The sound of gunshots roared in her head.
Her vision blurred at the sight of blood-spattered walls.
Paul had stood by and watched as Madison’s parents, Henry and WillaJean Slocum, tried to sell her to their drug supplier in exchange for forgiving their debt. Even at eight years old, Madison knew they were serious.
Her father pushed her toward their supplier as though she was something other than human—a commodity to be bartered or sold.
At first, the man laughed and nearly pushed her right back.
But once he’d caught a glimpse of her deep violet eyes, he reconsidered. His mouth twisted cruelly, his gaze hardened on hers, and life as she knew it was forever altered.
One moment she was a helpless, terrified eight-year-old girl, and the next she’d made a dive for the gun on the coffee table, aimed it straight at her parents, and shot them both dead.
Her small hands shook as she spun on her heel and pulled the trigger again, effectively wiping that sick grin off the supplier’s face as a bullet tore into his gut and he crumpled to the ground.
Paul was the only one left, and as Madison leveled the barrel on him, he raised both hands and in a soft voice said, “Don’t shoot. I’m a cop.”
Madison wavered. He was nothing like the others who used to hang around. Sure he was big, hardened, and scary in his own way, but in those dull, milky eyes she’d caught a flash of something she’d never seen in her parents.
This strange, beige, nondescript man actually cared about what happened to her.
“I know you’re in pain,” he told her. “I know how scared you must be. But I need you to give me the gun.” He extended a hand, but Madison knew better than to fall for that trap. “It’s okay,” he’d said, somehow managing to stay calm. “I understand. Just hold tight and don’t do anything rash. I’m just going to reach into my pocket and show you . . .”
A moment later he’d flashed her his badge, and Madison found herself howling and shaking in the shelter of his arms.
Paul was undercover and just days away from arresting her parents and their supplier and sending them all to jail for a very long time. But now he was faced with an entirely new dilemma. He explained how easy it would be to tell the truth, since Madison was too young to be held accountable for her actions. But Paul had also been around long enough to know how a crime like that could manage to stick.
He’d seen something special in her—the kind of spark most people lacked. In a bid to give her the sort of life she deserved, he staged the scene to appear as though the supplier had shot her parents and Paul had then shot the supplier.
She’d never forget the feel of her father’s fingers digging into her arm just before he gave her away. The bruises he left marked the spot where she eventually pressed a piece of burning wood to her flesh. The resulting wound lent authenticity to the alibi, while serving as a visual reminder of why she’d chosen her path.
The memory faded as Madison met Layla’s gaze. She’d stayed silent too long, and now anything she said would be met with skepticism. Still, in the end, it would always be Madison’s word against the truth, and she would do whatever it took to ensure that the truth never leaked.
“I didn’t kill my parents,” she said. The energy in the room was so charged it seemed to crackle between them. “Though I also won’t lie and pretend that I miss them. I’m glad they’re gone.” She allowed the words some space to settle before she continued. “They were negligent, careless, reckless, and completely unfit. They sold drugs in order to pay for the drugs they took. Only they had a bad habit of not paying their debts, which is what got them into the sort of trouble that ultimately ended their lives. They also had a bad habit of forgetting to buy things like soap, and toothpaste, and food. Some of my earliest memories are of me digging through our neighbors’ trash for scraps to eat. Stories like that aren’t known for ending happily, and yet mine did. The day my parents died, I got a second chance at a much better life, and I’ll always be grateful for that.” It was more than she’d ever revealed to anyone, and after living with it in her head for so long but never daring to put a voice to it, the words felt strange and foreign on her tongue.
Everyone fell into a sort of stunned silence—everyone but her harshest critic: Layla, of course.
“I feel like you’ve mistaken this for a game of two truths and a lie.” She wasn’t the least bit affected by Madison’s story. “Question is, which is which?”
Tommy shot her a sharp look, and the look Layla flashed in return assured Madison that whatever they’d once shared was now doomed.
“Think what you will.” Madison inspected her nails. “But why would I tell you all that when I’ve worked so hard to sell a very different, much more wholesome version of myself?”
“Who set the fire?” Layla was relentless.
Paul. Paul set the fire. He risked his job, his reputation, and his life in order to protect me.
It would be so easy to finally confess and unburden herself. But so many years of her and Paul jealously guarding each other’s secrets precluded her from spilling them now. She couldn’t imagine ever stating those words out loud. She hoped she’d never have to.
“Was it you?”
Madison shook free of her thoughts and focused on Layla.
“Was it Paul?”
Madison may or may not have blinked, but otherwise she remained very still.
“Or perhaps it was Gerald Rawlins?”
Madison froze. Layla had just spoken the name of the man she and Paul had framed for killing her parents.
Layla folded her arms across her chest and smirked. “Maybe you should start over, from the beginning. And this time, tell us the real story.”
TWENTY-SIX
THIS IS WHAT YOU CAME FOR
Tommy could not believe the mess he found himself in. Madison had tricked him, his friends had all turned against him, but the worst part was the way Layla ignored him.
Layla was feisty and prone to occasional verbal sniping—two things Tommy had always liked about her. But he’d also seen another side that was tender, sexy, and loving in a way he never saw coming. She was the most passionate girl he’d ever known, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder if he should maybe let her go without putting up too much of a fight.
He truly did like her, but sometimes he worried they were like some dumb reality TV couple—the kind who convinced themselves they were soul mates when their lives were filled with roses, champagne, and Jacuzzis, only to discover they could barely stand each other once the viewers and cameras turned elsewhere.
Real relationships required the kind of work the reality shows tended to skip. And Tommy was no longer sure he had it in him to keep trying.
At some point, Madison had stopped speaking. And Tommy had been so lost in his thoughts that he struggled to catch up to where she might’ve left off.
“You’re seriously trying to pretend you didn’t know he survived and that he was in jail all this time?”
Tommy watched Madison squirm. Nothing obvious, but he’d been studying her all day, and the way she pulled the throw higher onto her lap was a sure sign Layla had hit a sore spot.
Still, Tommy felt sorry for her. Madison was bruised, battered, and exhausted, yet she put on such a good show of having it all together no matter the circumstance, it was easy to forget she was just an eighteen-year-old girl who’d spent the bulk of the summer fighting for survival.
“As far as I knew, he died in the fire. Last I saw, he was unconscious and the house was in flames. Not long after, I was taken to the hospital, and then Paul had me stay with his mom until my name was changed and my adoption arranged. Paul did everything he could to protect me, and I guess that includes lying about what happened to the shooter. You have no idea how shocking this is. It makes me question everything I thought I once knew. And while I’m definitely upset to learn I’ve been in danger all this time, I wouldn’t have had half my success if it wasn’t for Paul. It’s because of him
the shooter was never able to find me. Or at least not until now.”
“Well, the shooter’s not the one who found you,” Layla spat. “The shooter is dead. He died in jail last year.”
Madison stifled a yawn. It seemed a strange way to react in the face of such news, but Tommy guessed her fatigue was getting the best of her. Or maybe she was faking. It was impossible to tell what was really going on with her.
“Do you think you would’ve gone missing if it weren’t for the contest?”
Tommy looked at Aster, startled by the question.
“I mean . . .” Aster paused to collect her thoughts. “Do you think it was somehow connected or linked? Or do you think we’re just all wildly unlucky victims of unfortunate timing?”
“How could it be linked?” Tommy tried to make sense of it.
“Unless Ira was involved.” Ryan voiced the thought they were all thinking.
“You think Ira Redman kidnapped me?” Madison was more curious than incredulous. “You think there’s a connection between him and Gerald Rawlins?”
Aster shifted uncomfortably. “Listen,” she said, her voice quiet, as though afraid of being overheard. “I feel like a traitor even saying it, especially after all that Ira’s done for me, but sometimes I wonder, you know? I mean, Ira’s been there from the start, and I can’t just stick my head in the sand and refuse to see something because it’s inconvenient and makes me uncomfortable.”
“And I don’t think you should let it go,” Tommy said. “Looking back, that whole night seems perfectly choreographed to set you up for the crime, and Ira played a big part in that.”
“But why me?” Aster’s look was pleading.
“Why you?” Madison balked. “You sure you don’t mean why me?” She jabbed a thumb toward her chest.
“I meant why did he set me up? Why not Ryan, Tommy, Layla, or any of the other competitors? Why did Ira target me as the one to mess with?”
Tommy had a few suspicions, but he chose not to voice them.
“Whatever.” Aster sighed. “It’s done. I may never know the answer to that one.” She waved a hand in front of her face.
“Say Ira is behind it.” Madison spoke as though testing a theory she wasn’t even remotely convinced of. “What would he possibly get out of it? Pretty sure he knows me well enough to know I plan to prosecute whoever did this to the full extent of the law. And as far as I know, Ira has no connection to my past.”
“He gets a boatload of free PR,” Ryan said. “You can’t believe what’s gone on since you’ve been away.”
Madison fell quiet, her expression contemplative.
“But let’s say Ira is behind it,” Ryan said. “How exactly did he arrange all of that? I mean, he must’ve had help. Even Ira can’t be in more than one place at a time. He would’ve needed at least one accomplice, maybe more.”
“Starting with the girl at the apartment,” Tommy said.
“Who the hell was she?” Aster pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “From the back, she looked just like you.” She nodded toward Madison.
“I assure you, it wasn’t me. I was hanging at the Vesper with Tommy.”
Tommy was dumb enough to glance at Layla. What he saw left him convinced that any hope of reconciling had just died a quick, easy death.
“Okay, so someone who, from the back anyway, looks like Madison, lured me to an apartment more or less around the same time you disappear. Then a few days later your blood very conveniently shows up on the Night for Night terrace as well as on the dress I was dumb enough to leave behind in that stupid apartment.”
“What’s up with the blood?” Layla asked.
Madison was quick to defend herself. “I had my blood stored, and it’s not nearly as crazy as it may sound. Presidents do it all the time.”
“Yeah, except you’re not exactly the leader of the free world, are you?” Layla sneered.
Madison was undeterred. “Billionaires, CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, and many A-list celebrities have done the same thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ira has too. Over a period of time, someone collects your blood and stores it in a safe place. It’s not as uncommon as you think.”
“But why?” Tommy asked. “What’s the point?”
“Normally, it’s to use in a medical emergency. For me, it was mainly in case I ever needed to disappear in a hurry.”
“Which you did,” Layla was quick to point out. “And your blood was splattered all over the same terrace you were taken from.”
“So I’ve been told.” Madison held Layla’s gaze until she was the first to look away.
“So, who had access to the blood?” Ryan asked.
“Paul and me. That’s all I know of.”
“And James? What sort of deal do you have with him?” Ryan studied her in a way that made Madison squirm.
“Nothing.” She tried to dismiss the thought. Then, realizing she wouldn’t get away with that, she said, “He used to do some light spying. Petty stuff.” She glanced between Aster and Ryan. “He’s the one who told me about you two.”
Ryan looked away in embarrassment. The room grew quiet as they all retreated into their individual thoughts.
“Listen,” Madison said. “If I hadn’t been the one taken, I’d be in a complete state of awe. The whole thing is kind of genius, if you think about it. It’s a complicated series of events. And trust me, Paul is capable of all of that and more. Ira too.”
“Does Paul know Ira?” Aster asked.
Ryan nudged her arm. “Everyone knows Ira.”
“But does Paul work for Ira? You know, as a fixer, or whatever it is Paul does.”
“No idea.” Madison shrugged. “I’m his most important client, but not his only client. Either of them are capable of pulling that off, but neither of them could’ve done it alone.”
“The girl, whoever she was, had to be in on it,” Aster said. “That was a real live girl, not the Ghost in a wig. Also, we found your car waiting for us just outside Ira’s tequila launch party. The GPS led us right to Paul’s office, presumably so we could find the blood-collecting kit.”
“I doubt that was legit,” Madison said. “Paul would never leave a blood-collecting kit randomly lying around for someone to find.”
“It was in a filing cabinet,” Ryan corrected.
“That makes even less sense. What else did you find?”
“An empty file with your name on it.”
Layla piped up, “The contents were sent to me.”
“Let me guess: It was full of diary entries and whatever else you posted on your blog or saw fit to give to Trena Moretti?” She glared at Layla, but Layla refused to confirm or deny. “Clearly someone planted the blood kit and empty file folder,” Madison said. “What would Paul want with my diary entries?”
“I thought you suspected Paul?” Aster’s tone was softer than Tommy expected.
Madison shook her head. “Now I realize he was trying to protect me from knowing the truth. But I panicked and ran, and he’s probably freaking out trying to find me.”
“It’s equally possible he’s trying to hunt you down so he can harm you,” Tommy said, prompting Madison to send him a searching look that was not lost on Layla, who made a point of sighing and rolling her eyes.
Before it could go any further, Aster broke in. “If Paul is behind it, I don’t think he’d want us to see any of those documents, much less the blood kit. Ira, on the other hand, could’ve easily made all that happen.”
Tommy kept quiet. His head was spinning with theories.
“Look—” Ryan bumped Aster’s shoulder with his. “I don’t know if Ira’s behind it or not. What I do know is that scandal is sexy. And this particular scandal is tailor made for a celebrity-obsessed public who never tires of rehashing the grisly details. There isn’t a person left on the planet who hasn’t heard of Jewel, the Vesper, or Night for Night, which is now one of the top five tourist destinations in town. It’s pretty much the best thing
that ever happened to Ira. Though it’s definitely the worst thing that’s ever happened to us.” Ryan’s voice rang of anger, and the color rose to his face. He was getting seriously heated. Tommy could relate.
“So . . .” Aster shifted toward him. “Let’s assume Ira is behind this.” She frowned. “I mean, what now? What am I supposed to do? I’ve pretty much given him control of my life! Do I find a way to disconnect? Or do I hang in there with the hope that it’s entirely possible that the reason he’s gone out of his way to help is because he knows the charges won’t stick? Like, maybe at the very last second he’s planning a big reveal that’ll prove my innocence. And then, in addition to building his business, he can be a hero for believing in me when everyone else turned away. God, that sounds cynical.” She sank her head in her hands and rubbed at her face.
“Cynical and entirely possible.” Ryan sighed.
“But would he really go that far just for an epic PR play?” Aster smoothed her hair behind her ears, her expression thoughtful as she considered the idea.
On the surface, it sounded crazy and woefully far-fetched.
In reality, Tommy knew Ira was capable of all that and more.
Still, he said, “But why would he kidnap Madison? I mean, it’s one thing to be an amoral businessman. It’s another to actually abduct someone and hold them captive for weeks on end. That takes planning, patience, deliberation, resources.”
“All of which Ira has in abundance,” Madison said.
“So if Ira is behind it, do you think he planned to trot you in front of the courtroom at the last minute so my case would be dismissed? You think that’s his big reveal?” Aster stared at Madison as though she had the answer. When Madison failed to reply, Aster frowned and slumped low in her seat. “I know, it sounds insane—like the worst sort of magical thinking. But at this point, it’s all I’ve got. Ira controls my whole life! And the worst part is, I went along with it.”