She was so innocent, I think, sitting in my soundproofed office. It’s just gone one o’clock, and I’ve finished the final touches for the night, and now, inevitably, my mind returns to Eden. She was so innocent. At least, she looked so innocent. Damn, but she isn’t anymore. Not even close. Now she’s as wild as me, as hungry as me. I’ve finally met my match, and that’s a fact.

 

I’m replaying the scene in the hot tub over in my head when there’s a knock at my door. I get up and open it to Markus, whose bald head is sweating madly, beads of sweat sliding down over his stern eyebrows into his eyes.

 

“Something wrong?” I ask.

 

“Uh… not sure,” he grunts.

 

I close the door behind him and return to the desk. He drops into the chair opposite me so quickly that the legs of the chair creak. “Maybe,” he mutters, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Uh… yeah… maybe…”

 

I interlock my fingers and rest my chin on my knuckles, staring at him across the desk. “Tell me,” I say.

 

He rests his huge fist on the table and tap-tap-taps with his forefinger. “You know your old ex-girlfriend?”

 

“Which one?”

 

“Cassandra,” Markus mutters, and it’s like a sheet of ice falls over the room.

 

“I remember Cassandra,” I say, voice shaky. Why is he bringing her up? Why now?

 

Markus meets my eyes. His eyes are wide, as though he’s scared I’m going to get angry with him.

 

“Whatever it is,” I assure him, “it’s not your fault. I promise you that.”

 

Markus blushes. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath, his cheeks blowing up puffer-fish-style, and then lets it out slowly. “Cassandra is dating Mason Abraham. I heard it from a few of the guys, so I sent them to check it out, you know… to make sure. And it’s right. It’s her.”

 

“So she’ll be there tonight,” I say, gripping the arms of the chair. “She’ll be there with him. She’s dating our employer. Damn…” The urge to scream, to throw something, comes over me. But I fight it down. Scream at who? Markus? It’s not his fault. A leader must learn to control his anger, use it only when necessary. I can’t cancel this gig now. The men are expecting the pay. Hell, some of them may even be relying on it.

 

“I’m sorry, Boss,” Markus says, his booming voice oddly quiet. “I know that it’s not…”

 

I plaster a smirk to my face, let go of the chair, and clap my hands together. “Don’t give it any thought,” I say. “Cassandra is there. Fine, we can deal with that, eh? We’re not going to crumble ’cause one psychotic bitch has decided to date a Silicon Valley billionaire, are we? Anyway, we’re The Miseryed. What sort of party would tonight be if it didn’t have a little anguish?”

 

Markus nods.

 

“Go on,” I say, nodding at the door. “Go and get yourself into the party spirit. Have a drink. One drink—I want you sharp.”

 

“Yes, Boss. Thanks, Boss. Sorry, Boss.”

 

Markus climbs to his feet and shuffles out of the office.

 

Just before he leaves, he says, “I think she might still be obsessed with you. According to one of the guys, anyway.” He shivers. “Sorry, Boss. Sorry.” Then he closes the door behind him.

 

He’ll need cheering up, I think, still numbed by the news.

 

I take out my phone and send a text to Eden: Bring your friend tonight.

 

Then I grit my teeth together so firmly I’m sure I feel flakes of enamel on my tongue.

 

Cassandra, there, tonight… fuck.

 

That night comes back to me again, that night which was the end of it all, the fall of the final domino.

 

***

 

I had sat beside the bed, watching her, this ghoulish woman whose grasp on reality was nothing short of terrible—hell, terrifying. Then I reached across and shook her by the shoulder. She opened her eyes so quickly I’m sure she was awake the entire time, pretending to be asleep.

 

“What is it?” she said. There was a layer of danger behind her voice, the voice of someone willing to do something drastic. Like she hasn’t done that already!

 

“I’m going to say this to you once, Cassandra, and I need you to understand.” The cuts on my chest had opened again, and my shirt stuck to my skin with blood. I ignored the pain and stared at her. “You need help. But I can’t be with you anymore.” She made to talk, but I held up my hand. “I can’t be with you anymore. I’m sorry, but…” I left the sentence unfinished. But what? But I never really cared about you anyway? But I’ll never really care about any woman? But you were always nothing to me? “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you to a private hospital and get you help.”

 

She had sprung across the room so quick it was like there was a fire under the mattress. She stood next to the door, naked, directly in the winter light. “Don’t be silly,” she said, twisting her lips. “What are you talking about? You’re not leaving me. I’m not going to a hospital. We’re together, Maddox. Me and you—we’re together. You’re being silly.”

 

I stood up and walked toward her slowly, holding my hands out. She wasn’t threatening herself or me. Her hands were dangling at her sides. But Cassandra had that overall demeanor of a feral creature, and I’d seen what she was capable of tonight already. I walked slowly, slowly, ready to jump at or away from her if I had to.

 

She stood up straight, her lips curling. “You lied to me,” she whispered. “You said you would be my lover until the day we died!” She screamed the last words, spit flying from her lips. “You lied to me!” she growled.

 

“I didn’t,” I sighed. “I never said any of that to you. We don’t even know each other, Cassandra. Not really. We have sex; that’s all. I’m sorry if you think it’s more than that. But it isn’t.”

 

Her mouth had fallen open as I spoke, as though she couldn’t believe what I was saying. I was speaking a language she didn’t understand. In her mind, we were probably lovers, destined to be lovers until the day we died. She had bent reality around her wishes, and now she couldn’t tell the difference between the two.

 

She’d backed toward the door, her eyes flitting around the room.

 

“I want to help you,” I said. “Just let me help you. I can do that—”

 

“You broke my heart! You promised you’d love me forever!” she growled.

 

“I didn’t. I didn’t say anything even goddamn close to that.”

 

“You did!” she hissed. “You fucking did!”

 

“Listen to me—”

 

Moving snake-fast, she wrenched open the door and sprinted into the motel parking lot, naked. I jogged after her, not worried at first. Where was she going to go? She jogged across the snow-scattered concrete, and then I realized she was heading straight for my bike. Is she going to trash it?

 

But she had sat down on the bike. When she opened her fists, I saw my key. How long has she had that? I raced toward her, legs pumping. Too late—the bike growled to life and Cassandra, naked, shivering, swearing, rode away from the motel.

 

I ran down the road after her, shouting, “I want to help you! Goddamn it, I want to help you!”

 

But the bike was fast and soon she had zoomed away from me at one hundred miles per hour.

 

When I slumped down next to the road, she had disappeared into the falling snow.

 

On my way back to the motel, I told myself, “At least it’ll be the last time I ever see her.”