When I walk back into the party room, I scan it quickly. People are drunker now, but not much else has changed. The band plays jazz, and the partiers dance or talk in huddles. Waitresses and waiters circulate. I look over the room, past Markus, past a few of my men, and to the stairs. Cassandra stands at the top, waving at me.

 

I push through the crowd, fighting the urge to sprint, to barge people out of the way, and up the stairs. Cassandra turns on her heels and walks down the hallway, toward the computer room to which I sent Eden. That’s where she got her. Screensaver… what damn screensaver? I push open the door, and Cassandra swivels in the chair like a Bond villain. The only thing the bitch is missing is a little cat.

 

I close the door behind me.

 

“Maddox,” she says.

 

“What did you say to her?” I growl. I look at her closer. Her eye is black, and her knuckles are grazed. “What is wrong with you? What happened? Goddamn, Cassandra…” I walk closer and look with more detail at the graze and the black eye. “That’s makeup.” Part of me wants to punch her directly in the face, but I’ve never hit a woman, and I’m not about to start now. “That’s makeup. Did you put that on to make her pity you? Is that your little game?”

 

Cassandra just throws her head back and laughs. Then she leans back and turns on the computer screen. It hums to life, and a photograph of Cassandra and me appears on the screen. We’re on a beach, kissing. I remember the day – it was at the start when she was still pretending – but I don’t remember the photo. But I was drunk as a sailor on leave that day, wasn’t I? How easy would it have been for her to snap a photo? And who was it that was giving me drink after drink?

 

“You planned this long ago,” I mutter.

 

“Oh, no.” She giggles. “Not this precisely, but I took the photo as an insurance of sort. Oh, you never know what will come in handy, do you? And earlier, I overheard you and your little princess talking. It was after you had sex in the gazebo. So I rushed up here and voila!” She grins at me. “It softened her up. Drunk, scared people are willing to believe anything, you know.”

 

“Why?” I breathe, my entire body willing me to become what she said I was: to beat her. But I won’t, I never will. Despite what she said, it isn’t in my bones. My body wouldn’t allow me. Invisible hands would grip me, holding me in place. I could never hit a woman.

 

“Why?” She shakes her head at me like I’m a naïve little boy. “Because I suspected that you might not leave her, so I had to make her leave you. Don’t you see? Now she’s out of the way, we can be together. We don’t have to worry about this pretty little babe any longer. It can be just you and me —”

 

“Look at yourself, Cassandra. You’ve painted yourself in pretend scars and bruises. You’ve made out that I cheated on you, hit you, when I never did either. You’ve caused pain to the woman I think I—And you think I’ll come back to you?”

 

Cassandra nods solemnly. “Eventually, yes. You want an exciting woman like me. Not a boring woman like sweet fickle Eden.”

 

“Eden isn’t boring.”

 

“I’m everything she’s not.”

 

“Which is why I would rather die than leave her for you. Do you think you’ve worked this out, really? She was drunk, tonight. Shocked, too. I’ll straighten it out.” I stare down at her. For once, she looks scared. She shrinks back. “You cut me, you stole from me, but you won’t do this. Stay. Away. From. Eden.”

 

I growl the words, and then turn away and pace from the room.

 

I walk down the hallway and push into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, and leaning up against it. I slump down onto the floor, letting my head drop between my knees.

 

I wanted to get out of the dangerous parts of my life. I wanted to get out of them, become a real mechanic, or a programmer, or something. Get out of the life and take Eden away. Somewhere quiet, somewhere isolated, somewhere safe. Somewhere we could be alone.

 

But she won’t have me now, will she?

 

Please listen. Please just listen.