Cold Deception (His Agenda 4): Prequel to the His Agenda Series (14 page)

“Something came up in New York. I’ll be leaving Serendipity tomorrow morning… for a while.” He shifted from one foot to the other as though he was nervous. “I wanted to see you before I left. Can I ask you for the last time to have a coffee with me?”

Lacey looked at him and then at her car keys, turning them over in her hand. Common sense urged her to say no, to let him go and forget about him. But she couldn’t forget the joy that had bubbled in her chest when he’d walked into the restaurant. This could be the last time they saw each other. He might not return. She licked her lips and swallowed. She knew what she wanted to say.

“I guess it’s time,” she said, but only inside her mind. What was she doing? What had she done, letting another man into her marriage? Yes, her marriage was in shambles, but going to coffee with Winston would make things worse. She had to sort out her life with Terence first, figure out what was left of them before doing anything stupid, even though Terence was the one who started with all the stupidity. He could even be with another woman right now. How would she know?

She dropped her head. “Winston, I can’t. I also enjoyed our conversations, but I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have invited you to the Christmas party, I shouldn’t…” She looked into his eyes. “I can’t do this… with you, with anyone.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she tried to blink them away, but they refused to be stopped. They trickled unhindered down her cheeks. She was standing on the pavement with a man who wasn’t her husband, and crying as though her heart was breaking. She’d cried a lot since Terence walked out, but not like this. This time she wept for what she was about to lose. 

Everything happened fast after that. Suddenly she was wrapped in Winston’s arms, cradled against his chest, listening to the fast beating of his heart. He held her with one hand on the back of her head and the other against her back. Something crackled inside her, like a fire being lit, burning brighter, sending out sparks that warmed her body.

This was what she had longed for when she’d opened her heart to Winston, this kind of comfort that made her forget her problems, forget reality. She wanted to pull back but found she couldn’t. When Winston pressed the side of his face to hers, his beard caressing her skin, her body unfurled with life. She pushed him away gently, her palms flat against his hard chest. Winston reached for her wrist before she could walk away.

“I know you feel what I feel, Lacey. There’s an attraction between us. You feel it too, don’t you? Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know how I feel right now. I feel like my whole world is breaking apart. I can’t do this. Please understand.”

“You’re unhappy. I want to change that.”

“I’m married.”

“You’re stuck inside an unhappy marriage. What kind of man lets his wife spend Christmas alone?” He touched her chin and tipped it upward. “How can he not appreciate you… and this?” He lowered his lips to hers.

She was helpless to resist.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lacey stood at the front door, steeling herself before entering the house. Every day she expected to come home to find Terence. But today she wasn’t so sure she wanted to see him—not when she still tasted Winston on her lips. He had sent her senses spinning out of control and she had no idea how to collect them. For the first time since Terence left, she was glad he was away.

She gathered her pain, guilt, and fears into one large ball inside her chest and pushed the key into the lock. Her skin prickled as soon as she entered; he was back. Two weeks away and now he was back as if he’d only gone to the grocery store.

She closed the door and walked past the living room, not stopping to greet him, her anger boiling inside her veins. She simply climbed the stairs and went to their bedroom, then took her time changing her clothes, expecting him to walk in at any moment. He didn’t. While he was gone, she had prepared the speech she wanted to give him the second he walked through the door. Now that he was back, she was too angry to open her mouth.

Lacey went downstairs to the kitchen. If he expected her to go to him in the living room, he was wrong. She didn’t owe him a thing.
He
owed her an explanation. He should come to her. She placed two slices of bread on a plate, then opened the fridge to remove sandwich ingredients. The moment she pulled out the ham, the fridge slammed shut, and she jumped and spun around.

“I saw you.” His voice was raw and dusty. “I saw you with another man. Are you fucking him?”

Trying not to reveal her surprise that he had been following her, Lacey squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “You have no right to ask me that, to ask me anything. You can’t walk in here after almost three weeks and pretend we still have a marriage.”

“Last time I checked you’re still my wife. Whether I’m around or not, you’re still my fuckin’ wife.”

“Really?” She tightened her grip on the ham. “What kind of husband puts his own ego before his wife? What kind of husband walks out on his wife and disappears for days without letting her know where he is? What kind of husband leaves his wife alone at Christmas?” Emotion tightened her throat. “Tell me, Terence: what kind of marriage is this?”

“Listen to me carefully.” He drew closer to her and she backed away until the fridge stopped her. He moved closer still, until their bodies touched. “No matter what’s going on in our marriage, you have no right to fuck other men.”

“I’m not fucking anyone. The man you saw is my friend.” She blinked away tears. “You left me. God knows where you were or who you were with. I have the right to choose my friends, and I have the right to work. Whether you like it or not.”

“What kind of fool do you think I am?” The palm of his hand connected with the fridge. She flinched, but only inwardly. “I saw you kissing him.”

“I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.” Her voice shook. “But after what you did, maybe I should have kissed him back.”

Terence gripped her hand so tight, pain spread through her knuckles and up her wrist. She bit into her lip and yanked away her hand. She squeezed out of the little space he had pushed her into. She went to stand near the table, gripping the edges. “Don’t you dare hurt me. You’ve done enough of that already.”

“Then stop being a stupid bitch.”

Lacey blinked several times and shook her head sadly. “What happened to you, Terence? You’re not the man I married. The man I married would never call me that.”

“And you’re not the woman I married. My wife is not a whore.”

She rushed toward him and slapped him hard across the cheek. Her palm stung. “How dare you.”

He touched his cheek, and then his face broke into a sadistic smile she had never seen before. He barreled into her, slamming her hard against the wall. He encircled a hand around her neck and squeezed. She gasped for air. “Whatever I do to you, it’s your fuckin’ fault. You make me do it.”

This time the hand around her neck hurt more than the words. She tried to fight him off, but he was so much stronger than her. When he released her, she curled her fingers around her own neck and tried to push away, but he pressed her against the wall with his whole body.

“Let me go,” she whispered, choking back tears.

“Never. You’re mine.” He pulled her away from the wall and spun her around roughly. While she was still trying to catch her breath, he placed a hand on her upper back and shoved her forward. When she realized what he was about to do, she stood back up, but he pushed her down again.

“What are you doing?” she cried out, trying to move away from him, but he held on to her with a death grip.

“Taking what’s rightfully mine.” As tears dropped from her eyes, he yanked down her jeans along with her panties. Then he slid into her roughly, hurting her body at the same time that he pulverized the broken pieces of her heart.

When he was done with her, he left the kitchen and she crumpled to the cold floor where she remained for an hour, sobbing. At some point the front door slammed.

Lacey pulled herself up and sat against the wall with her head in her hands. She had to accept the man her husband had become. There was no going back to what they used to be. It would only get worse from here. She had to get herself out of the mess Terence had made of their marriage.

Left with no other choice, she walked upstairs on shaky legs and began to pack her bags.

***

Lacey could have gone to Oasis. She would have been welcomed with open arms. But it would have been the first place Terence looked. Instead, she accepted Florene’s offer to stay at her place. This was after Lacey told her everything. Lacey promised it would only be for a couple of weeks. The night she left Terence, she switched off her phone. He could go crazy calling her for all she cared. He could go to hell. He didn’t deserve her. The first thing she would do in the morning was get herself a new number.

“But he knows where you work,” Florene said as she helped Lacey carry her luggage into the guest room.

“I thought about that, but I can’t give him what he wants. I can’t quit. That job is all I have.”

“Does he know your work schedule?”

“No. The only thing he wanted to know when it came to my job was whether I’d quit.”

“Wow, that’s messed up. At least he doesn’t know that you’re not working for the next two days. Maybe he’ll think you
did
quit.” Florene sat down on the bed. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“There are different kinds of dangerous.” Lacey unzipped her suitcase and took out a nightdress.

“What I mean is, would he hurt you?”

Lacey straightened up and looked at her friend, tears sliding down her cheeks. “He already has.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Terence

When Terence returned home from a long drive through town, he found Lacey’s side of the closet empty. She was gone. Raging, he climbed back into his car and drove to the one place he knew she would seek shelter. The lights at Oasis were off, but he didn’t give a shit whether people were sleeping. He slammed his fist against the front door until it opened.

Lilliana looked genuinely surprised to hear that Lacey had walked out on Terence, but she didn’t hide her joy at the news.

“She’s not here.” Lilliana folded her arms. “I’m sure she had a good reason for leaving you. Bye, Terence. You’re not welcome here.” She shut the door in his face.

“Bitch,” Terence mumbled and walked to his car, his head spinning. Lacey was probably with the man he had seen her with that day, the man she had kissed. She was probably fucking him right now—right after Terence had fucked her. She should be punished for betraying him, but tonight she was out of his reach. If he couldn’t find Lacey, there was only one way for him to keep from going completely crazy. He would have to punish someone else.

Instead of getting into his car right away, he went for a walk down the street until he found an internet café. He went online and visited the forum where cheating wives hung out—a forum he sometimes turned to in his work as a private investigator. After going through a few posts and reading the confessions, he found the perfect victim. Her name was Krista Smith. He wrote down everything useful from her profile. A few phone calls in the morning would get him everything else he needed to find her.

Terence slept in his car, parked across the road from Classico. He woke up before dawn and watched the front door, waiting for Lacey to show up. This job was important to her, important enough that it had destroyed their life together. She would not give it up now. Or so he thought until she failed to show up.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

At 9 p.m., two days after Lacey left him, Terence found Krista Smith at a local bar called Lehman’s. She sat on a barstool, nursing a gin and tonic. She was more beautiful than she had looked in her picture online, her red hair tumbling down her back in lush curls. He took a seat on the barstool next to her to get a better look, and to get close enough for conversation. Close up, even in the dim lighting of the bar, her skin was smooth like porcelain, her neck elegant and slim, her eyelashes long and curved. She was striking despite minimal makeup, like how Lacey used to look before she started putting all that gunk on her face, before she became someone he didn’t recognize. Her beauty had been pure, so fresh. She had wanted to become somebody different, somebody she herself didn’t recognize. She had succeeded.

Krista drained her glass and put it down again, folding her arms in front of her, her gaze aimed at the muscular bartender.

Terence’s gaze slid from her face to her left hand. No ring. But he detected the thin line around her ring finger, left behind by a promise she had made to someone.

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked. She eyed him suspiciously, so he shrugged and flashed a smile. “I don’t like drinking alone.”

“You’re not drinking alone.” She traced the tip of her finger around the rim of her glass. “You’re in a bar full of people.”

“They don’t interest me.” He waved the bartender over and ordered himself a whiskey. Without her consent, he bought her another gin and tonic. “I don’t take no for an answer,” he said, pushing it in front of her.

“Thank you.” A slight smile curved her lips. “But you didn’t have to. I can afford to buy my own drinks.”

“What do you do?” Terence raised his glass to his lips and took a swig. At some point he would have to pull himself together and quit drinking alcohol. He hated the stuff.

“I’m a wedding planner.” She sipped her drink.

“I see. So you’re responsible for making dreams come true?” He leaned against the bar and turned to look at her face. She was truly stunning.

“Someone has to do it. And I’ve always loved weddings.” Her eyes lit up; she was telling the truth.

Terence laughed, but his stomach was filled with hot lava. “Only weddings? How about marriage—the real deal?”

She sipped her drink and looked away. When she spoke again, her voice was low and controlled. “I believed in marriage once, but it isn’t what it’s cut out to be. Most people believe it’s this amazing journey. I used to think so too, but I no longer do.”