Chance’s brows rose. His lips twitched.
“So, yes, I’d say it’s safe to assume that Gwen caught sight of me.”
Chance ran a hand through his hair. “Did you get her room number?”
“1608. I figured you’d be requesting room 1610…the one right beside her.”
Damn straight, he would be.
“I didn’t see anyone else tailing us to the hotel. So either the guy is good, really good, or the APB that Faith put out on the van has him in hiding for the moment. I’ll stick around though,” Dev said, “and keep my eyes peeled. Extra protection can’t hurt, right?”
No, it sure couldn’t. Chance slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
Dev nodded. Then he tilted his head to the side as he studied Chance. “Lies can fucking destroy, man. Take it from me…with my screwed up past, I know full well the damage they can do.”
“I’m not going to mislead Gwen.” Not anymore. His gut was knotted now—he needed to see Gwen.
“Good.” Dev’s voice hardened. “Because I like her. And I like you. So I’d hate to have to kick your ass, but if you make that woman cry again, I just might do it. I hate the sight of a woman’s tears. Nothing worse in the world.” Then he turned away, whistled, and headed for the leather chairs near the crackling fire place.
***
“Seriously…what in the hell were you thinking?” Sophie Sarantos demanded as she marched into the interrogation room. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shooting sparks, and her high heels tapped frantically on the floor. “I’m your lawyer. I told you to be quiet, I told you—”
“I didn’t talk to the cops,” Ethan said wearily. The handcuff was still around his wrist and annoying the shit out of him. “I talked to Gwen.”
Sophie sat down her leather bag. “Gwen?” Her eyes slammed shut. “Not Gwen Hawthorne…not the woman you’re accused of stalking.”
“Right. That woman. I told you that I needed to see Gwen.” He’d asked Sophie again and again to get him access to Gwen. “She had to know that I wasn’t the one trying to hurt her! She needed to know—”
“You had secret cameras placed in her house!” Sophie’s eyes flew open. Then her stare flooded with horror and she glanced toward the one-way mirror. “Doesn’t matter, they can’t use anything I say.” Her shoulders straightened. Sophie was a petite woman, barely skirting five feet two inches, and she normally wore three inch heels to give herself extra height. “What matters is what you say. That’s why, for the love of God, just keep your mouth shut.” Her heels clicked against the floor. “I am busting ass and pulling every string I have so that you don’t spend tonight in general lock-up.”
His laughter was rough. “Like I can’t handle that. Soph, you…of all people…know what it was like growing up.” Because Sophie Sarantos wasn’t just his lawyer. She was his friend. They’d been friends since they were kids. Growing up in the wrong part of town, desperately fighting to survive.
Sophie’s hands flattened on the table and she leaned forward. Her voice dropped as she said, “I owe you. More than I’ll ever be able to repay.”
Ethan shook his head.
“You paid for my college. For law school. You—”
“You’re one of the few friends I actually have, Sophie. One of the only ones who didn’t believe I’d hurt Jena.” And she was the one who’d helped him to get Marjorie out of the country. “You’ve repaid me a million times over.”
And that money he’d used to fund her education? Those days…it hadn’t come from any respectable business dealings. He’d skirted the law when he was younger, and, sometimes, it was hard to shake his past, no matter how hard he tried.
“I am your friend,” she whispered back to him. “So let me do my job and let me help you, okay? No more conversations with Gwen Hawthorne. No more talking with the cops or anyone…just me. This is a serious mess, Ethan. Whoever is stalking Gwen, hell, he’s made a life out of ruining you.”
Ruining my chance at happiness. He frowned. “The thing is…I never had a chance with her. I knew it, deep down. Knew she was hung up on Chance Valentine.”
Sympathy flashed across Sophie’s face. “Ethan…”
“I have to figure out who’s doing this. You were there back then, Soph, you knew Jena. Were there lovers before me? Anyone who wouldn’t let her go?”
She sighed. “She was always so hooked up on you…until the end. I can still remember how upset she was after that last fight with you…when she swore you were cheating on her. That you’d been seen with another woman.”
“I never cheated on her.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t fucking me.”
But…maybe someone had wanted Jena to think he’d betrayed her. The same person who’d killed Jena?
Sophie picked up her bag once more. “Try to keep it together, okay? I’ve got my firm’s investigator looking for clues, for any evidence that we can use. Just stay calm until I come back.”
Easier said than fucking done.
The door closed behind her. He turned his head. Stared into the mirror. Saw his pale face, his wild eyes.
Calm wasn’t exactly a concept for him right then. He stood, as far as the handcuff would let him…and he drove his left fist into that mirror.
The door immediately flew open. Sophie stared at him with horrified eyes. “That’s not staying calm!” Then she rushed forward. “Shit, you’re bleeding.” Her voice rose as she yelled, “We need some help in here!”
But he just stared into the fractured mirror. Stared at himself…
He wasn’t the monster, no matter what Gwen thought.
***
Chance stood in front of room 1608. He lifted his hand and knocked. He knew that Gwen would be able to see him through the peephole and she—
“Go away, Chance!” He heard her yell through the door.
Right. She’d definitely seen him. He flattened his hand against the door. “Please, Gwen, we need to talk.”
Silence. Then the distinct sounds of locks being turned. The door slowly opened and Gwen stood there, eyeing him suspiciously. “Did you just say the word ‘please’ to me?”
His head inclined toward her. “It is in my vocabulary.”