Beneath the Scars (34 page)

I whimpered. Without even knowing it, he hit all of Zachary’s weak spots. “What happened?”

“Zachary hit him. Only once, but it was hard. He went down and Zachary bolted.” She shook her head. “That’s when he ran out the door and into the mess back there. Jonathon called the police and went out back and grabbed you.”

I shut my eyes as fresh tears gathered. So easily broken. The fragile bond I knew would take time to strengthen had been so easy to break. Small cracks had been forming, and today, the final blow had been delivered.

“I didn’t do this, Ashley. I’m not writing a book about him. I didn’t expose him.” The tremor in my voice grew stronger. “But, it is my fault.”

“What?”

“Jared heard me say his name and where I was staying. I thought I covered it up, but obviously I didn’t. He was looking for a way to discredit me so no one would ever believe me about my book, or anything else.” Bill had been right. A sob erupted from my chest. “It worked.” I met her eyes. “Zachary will never listen to me. He’ll never give me a chance to explain.”

She rolled forward, clasping my hand. “I believe you.”

“You do?”

“No one could fake the way you looked at Zachary, or how he looked at you. He was different with you.” She squeezed my hand. “You have to make him listen, Megan.”

“He left without me.”

“He was scared and in shock. The person he thought he could trust betrayed him.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she waved my words away. “The truth or not, that’s what it looked like to him. Think about it, Megan. He’s been here for ten years and until now, felt safe. Out of the limelight and away from his past. Then you enter his life—” Her voice trailed off.

“The one thing he needed, the one thing he counted on—his privacy—was suddenly taken away from him and he was told you were responsible. He knows this’ll be all over the news. He’ll hide for a while until he figures out how far this will reach in the media and how adversely it’ll affect his life.” She shuddered. “I hope they don’t know where his house is located.”

I stood up, gasping. “I have to get to him.”

She tugged me down. “Jonathon will drive you once he thinks it’s safe. You can’t be followed, either.”

“What if he won’t listen to me?” I whispered.

“You have to give him some time. Let him think it through. Once he calms down, I’m sure he’ll realize who is actually the one lying.”'

“You didn’t see how he looked at me.”

“I saw how he looked at you before this happened. You need to hang on to that image.”

I shut my eyes, my entire body exhausted.

I was pretty sure that wasn’t the image I would remember.

Time passed as I sat in Jonathon’s office. Slowly the crowd dispersed, the town once again quiet. When they realized there were no more pictures to be taken, and no one in the town would even talk to them, the reporters left, although I was sure they’d be back.

I stood in the shadows outside, waiting for Jonathon while he went to pick up my purse at the store. He was not as convinced as Ashley was about my innocence, but he was at least being polite. I tried calling Zachary, but the calls went straight to voice mail. Every time I heard his terse message, I began to cry again, so I didn’t leave him any messages. I doubted he’d listen to them anyway. I needed to see him face to face.

A ball of paper caught my eye and remembering it had been in Zachary’s hand, I bent down, picking it up and unfurling it. My eyes widened at the pictures. Zachary and me on the beach the day before—close up and zoomed in on his scarred face. Another one of us walking in town. Then others, of me with Jared, his arm around me, taken when we were dating. All the pictures were date stamped, but the ones of me with Jared were falsified. They were dated so it looked like they were taken last week when I was in Boston; made to look like we were still dating. To make Zachary believe I was the horrid person Jared said I was.

A figure moved and I tensed when Jared appeared.

“I’ve been waiting.”

“How?” I whimpered.

He laughed, the sound cruel. “Did you forget what I did before I started writing, Megan? I was a researcher for the publishing house. I checked facts, dug up information.” He sneered. “You made this little project so very interesting for me.” He sniggered. “I passed you on the highway last week, and waited for you here. I heard you talking to your lawyer and say where you were staying, so I rented a different car and followed you. Once I was sure where you were heading, I drove in front of you and waited.” His eyes narrowed. “So worth my time, too.”

“Why, Jared?” I asked, my voice shaking with barely concealed hatred. “Why did you do this?” I threw up my hands, shaking the fake pictures. “It’s a book, it’s only a book!”

“A book you wouldn’t give me.”

I shook my head. “I emailed Bill the other night and told him I would accept your offer. You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to destroy someone else’s life!”

He laughed again, the sound low and evil. “Don’t you get it, Megan?”

“I guess not.”

He stepped forward, close enough I could see the bruise forming on his face from Zachary’s fist. “I get what I want. I warned you not to fuck with me. Thanks to your stupid, inane mouth, I get it all. Luckily for me, I know you well enough to know what a lousy liar you are and there was no new dog. Good thing no one else has figured that out yet, and now they never will.” An evil smile curled his thin lips. “Even if this little story dies a fast death, which it probably will, no one will ever believe a word you say again. I get your book and discredit you,”—he smirked—“and, I get it all for free. I don’t have to pay you a dime.”

Revulsion tore through me. “You’re the most despicable person I’ve met. I regret the day I ever heard your name.”

He leered at me as he shrugged his shoulders. “Regret away, Megan. I still win.” His eyes glinted, dark and nasty as he shoved some more papers into my cold hand. “You made it all so easy, as well.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving me looking at the order receipt from Zachary’s paint, which had flown away, and some more pictures of the two of us together. He’d been here and seen me—he’d been watching us—following us. He found the information he needed because of my careless mouth and a piece of paper I let blow away. I hadn’t noticed him, never saw him passing me on the highway or watching us.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat again. I had led him right to Zachary.

Jonathon came around the corner, frowning when he saw Jared’s departing figure. His eyes softened when he saw my tears, and he slipped his hand under my elbow to steady me. “Are you all right?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

“Let me take you home, Megan.”

Home.

Zachary.

“Yes,” I mumbled. I had to get to him.

I stumbled into the house, refusing Jonathon’s offer of help. I needed to be alone and think before I went to see Zachary. The roads had been deserted, so I knew no one followed us from town, but I still hoped Zachary was safe in his house. I stopped at the sight of Dixie on the sofa, my hand clutching the doorframe for support. She’d been at Zachary’s when we left.

Why was she here?

I gasped as my eyes swept the room. Sitting on top of the mantle was a canvas I would know anywhere.
Tempest
was leaning on the wall; one long rending tear slashed diagonally across the painting, the image ruined. With slow steps and fresh tears falling down my face, I crossed the room, my fingers tracing the edge of the tear gently, the meaning behind the gesture plain.

He was destroying what I loved, because he thought I destroyed him.

A small piece of paper was tacked to the corner.

Finally. You got something you really wanted.

Sinking to the floor, I buried my head in my hands as I sobbed. I didn’t have to go to his house to know he was gone. His house would be vacant, the rooms echoing with silence.

He had left. I didn’t know how to find him and tell him the truth.

He left thinking once again he’d been used and discarded. He believed that I used him, because he was unworthy of really being loved.

A small bundle of fur crawled into my lap, and I pulled Dixie close to me as I wept. He brought her back to me and left me with the thing he believed I wanted most.

Except it wasn’t the painting I wanted. It was him.

Now, both were destroyed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Someone was tugging at my arms. “Megan. You have to move.”

Blinking, I looked up into Karen’s concerned eyes, then took in my surroundings. The room was dim, and I realized I must have cried myself to sleep sitting on the floor.

When did she arrive?

She shook me slightly. “Stand up,” she commanded, her voice firm but patient. With her help, I struggled to my feet and moved to the sofa. She handed me a glass of water. “Drink.”

I sipped at the liquid, the coolness feeling good on my parched throat.

“How—”

“Ashley called. She said you needed me. Right away.”

“Oh.”

All the memories came back, my eyes widening and filling with more tears. Karen took my glass and clasped my hands. “Tell me.”

Between sobs and hiccups, I told her everything. She listened, cursing at times, rubbing my back on occasion, while I cried and got out all the words.

“Bastards,” she hissed. “Both of them.”

I frowned at her, shaking my head. “This isn’t Zachary’s fault. You can’t blame him.”

“He believed Jared! How could he do that?”

“Jared did a thorough job.” Sniffing, I pulled the crumbled paper out of my pocket, showing it to her. “He covered all the bases—again.” Another sob wrenched from my chest. “For the second time, I handed it to him. Only this time, I’m not the only one hurt.”

“Stop blaming yourself. You had no idea Jared would do something like this, Megan.”

“I should have, though.” I stood up, pacing. “I should’ve taken the damn offer, like you and Bill said. Put it behind me. He stole my book, then had no problem calling me a liar and defaming me everywhere. I should’ve known he wouldn’t stop.” I held out my hands in a pleading gesture. “I dropped a receipt with Zachary’s name on it. I didn’t know Jared had followed me.” I choked back a fresh sob. “I didn’t know he was watching.”