Perfect Submission (6 page)

“Not right now,” Andre answers. My heart
sinks. “But I believe he’ll be back this afternoon.”

Good. I wanted to speak with him, but since
he’s out of the apartment, a new idea strikes me. “Can you please
have removal men and a locksmith meet me at the apartment? I need
to get some things out of the property.”

“Of course,” Andre agrees quickly. “I’ll
have them come right away.”

I hang up, feeling more determined. First, I
need to get Brent’s things out, and then we’ll have the
conversation that’s been a long time coming.

Cam will understand, I tell myself. He has
to. This is my life Brent is screwing with, and I can’t let him do
it another day.

* * *

I use a back entrance to sneak into the
Dunsmore building, then spend the morning working with the movers
to box up all of Brent’s things in my old apartment. It’s strange
being back here, the place I called home all year, but still never
felt like I belonged.

The décor, the style, it’s all showy and
ultra-feminine, lots of gold and chandeliers and fancy touches I
used to try and mark the space as my own, even with Brent using it
as his personal crash-pad. His stuff is everywhere: expensive
clothes and gadgets discarded like they mean nothing at all.

Not for the first time, I wonder how he can
be so careless. We both came from poor foster homes, we both grew
up with nothing, but instead of treasuring all the privilege the
Ashcrofts gave us, Brent just acts like he’s entitled to whatever
he wants.

I remember, the first Christmas we both were
with the family, I couldn’t believe all the gifts waiting under the
tree, it was like something out of a dream for me. Charles Ashcroft
and his wife had gone all out: toys, dolls, games. I unwrapped
everything so carefully, wanting to savor every moment, but Brent
tore through all his gifts in minutes – and then threw a tantrum
because they hadn’t gotten him an expensive model car he
wanted.

Looking around the room, it’s clear
nothing’s changed.

“That’s the last of it,” Andre says when
Brent’s things are finally boxed up in the hall. “The locks are
changed, too. Here’s the new keys.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, taking the keys.
“You’ve been wonderful, like always.” I see Andre’s smile reach all
the way to his eyes, and he adjusts his cap to hide it.

“Did you want the boxes delivered anywhere,
Miss Ashcroft?”

“Nope. My brother will be along to pick them
up,” I say. I already texted him, telling him we need to talk.

Sure enough, barely five minutes after Andre
leaves, I hear the elevator arrive with a ding! from down the
hall.

I try to steel myself. The thought of seeing
Brent makes me feel sick inside, reminding me of all the years I
was under his control. His manipulation, his tempers. I worshipped
him, but only because I was so desperate and needy for love.

No more.

I hear his footsteps approach the apartment.
They stop outside the door, then comes the sound of his key in the
lock. “Fuck,” I hear Brent’s muffled curse.

Be strong
, I remind myself.
You
just need clues about the witness.

I get up and go open the door. Brent is
scowling, already red with anger. “What the fuck?” he demands,
pushing past me inside. “Why won’t my key work? And what the hell
is all my stuff doing in the hall?”

“You’re moving out,” I say calmly.

Brent looks around, the truth dawning. “Are
you forgetting something?” He turns back to me with a cruel sneer.
“I know your little secret.”

“And now so does the whole world,” I reply,
folding my arms. “That means you don’t have any leverage over me
anymore.”

Brent’s face falls, and I have to try not to
laugh. “Didn’t think it through, did you? Now that I’m officially
charged with murder, you can’t blackmail me anymore. That means no
apartment, no car payments, and no credit cards. That’s right,” I
add, “I already called them and cut you off.”

I didn’t think I could find a silver lining
to this terrible nightmare, but the look on Brent’s face as he
realizes how screwed he is makes me feel better, just for a
moment.

“You bitch,” he growls. “You won’t be
smiling when you’re rotting in jail.”

“If they get a conviction,” I try my best to
bluff. “But the lawyers say there’s no way that’s going to happen.
They expect to get the charges dropped any day now.”

“You’re dreaming,” Brent smiles, confident
again. “You’re going to prison. They don’t just let you walk for
murder.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I protest, my voice
rising with anger. “I told you all those years ago, it was an
accident. I didn’t know about the fire.”

“That’s not what the witness says,” Brent
smirks again, and there’s something so smug about his voice that my
suspicions are confirmed. He knows something.

“What do you know about it?” I ask.

Brent snorts. “Enough to know you’re not
getting off so easy. You’ll be in jail soon enough. Enjoy those
group showers.”

I swallow back my rage. Brent is mean as
hell, but he’s also arrogant. Maybe I can play to that.

“What do you want from me?” I drop my voice
to a whisper, begging him. “Please, Brent, I don’t understand. Do
you want more money? Because this isn’t the way to get it. If I’m
in prison, all my assets will be frozen or go back to the family
trust!”

“Fuck money.” Brent’s face splits in a
furious scowl. “You want to know what this is about? This is about
you! Leaving me for that Scottish bastard. Thinking you’re so much
better than me.” Brent paces closer, making my heart skip. “You’re
just a common whore, the way you spread your legs for me all these
years, and now you’re doing the same for him. You think I don’t
know what you’re doing with him? I’ve heard all about how Cameron
McCullough likes it, you dirty bitch.”

I’m speechless, but even as I try to
recover, I hate knowing that Brent saw the shock and pain on my
face.

He smiles. “I know what you’re doing with
him, all that kinky shit, so now it’s my turn to make you hurt. I’m
going to destroy you, until you’ve got nothing left in the world. I
want you on your knees, begging me for mercy the way you beg him.
Because he won’t stand by you once you’re a convicted killer.
You’ll be all alone in the world, the way you deserve.”

I stare at him in disbelief. I can’t believe
he has so much hatred boiling inside him. Or that I would have done
anything for him once.

“I can’t believe I ever loved you,” I tell
him, disgusted. “That I never saw you for who you really are.”

He smirks again. “You were easy to
manipulate. Poor little Isabelle, so desperate for my approval. It
was fun, making you run around after me. And then when you turned
legal, well, that was fun, too. My own personal plaything,” he
crows.

I feel sick. “You’re disgusting. I was just
a kid, I trusted you.”

“And I developed that trust until there was
nothing you wouldn’t do.” Brent laughs cruelly.

He’s enjoying this. He loves to see me
suffer. That’s when I realize, I can use his ego against him.

“Please,” I whisper, trying to look
pathetic. “I don’t understand. The fire was an accident. How could
they have a witness?”

“God, you’re so fucking naïve,” Brent leers
at me. “People will say anything for the right price. Ten Gs and
that girl would say anything I want.”

“Which girl?” I demand.

Brent’s face changes. He realizes he’s said
too much. “You’re too late,” he snaps. “You’re not getting out of
this one. And I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer. You’ll wish
you hadn’t crossed me by the time I’m through.”

“Never.” My voice comes out clearly. I find
the strength to stand tall and stare him down. “I don’t care what
you do to me, I’ll never regret breaking free from your toxic
influence. I was just a kid when you got your claws into me, I
didn’t know any better, but I do now. You’re worthless, Brent.
You’ve had all the opportunities in the world and you’ve squandered
all of them. Plotting against Keely, trying to steal the company,”
I tick his crimes off on my fingers, “And now this, your vendetta
against me. I won’t take it anymore. If you think I’ll come begging
to you, you’re wrong,” I vow fiercely. “I have a better life now. I
have friends, and people who love me, and a partner who knows what
it is to be a
real
man.”

I glare at him, feeling years of pent-up
anger and betrayal come flooding to the surface. “What I have with
Cam is real. He doesn’t have to manipulate or blackmail me to make
me love him. He loves me for my strengths, he doesn’t exploit my
weakness. You’ll never know what it’s like to be loved the way I
love him, because you don’t deserve it. You may have taken my
adolescence from me, but you’re not taking another moment of my
life. We’re going to fight this, and win, and you’ll be left with
nothing. You have no one, Brent,” I add, furious. “No friends, no
family, no money, no one who cares.”

He tries smirking at me again but it looks
forced now, and I recognize a familiar panic in his eyes. He’s
pathetic.

I glare at him, so relieved to finally be
free. “Goodbye, Brent. Now get the hell out of my apartment.”

Brent opens his mouth, but a voice from
behind me cuts him off.

“You heard the lady.”

I turn. “Cam!” I exclaim. He’s standing in
the doorway, and although he’s casually leaning, I can see his body
is ready for a fight.

Brent looks between us. “I don’t need to
bother with you,” he sneers, still trying to save face. “Enjoy
jail.”

“Go. Now.” Cam’s voice is lethal. Brent
quickly storms out.

I gulp for air, shaking. I didn’t realize I
was so tense, but now exhilaration floods my body.

“Isabelle?” Cam strides into the
apartment.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” I gasp.
“After all this time, I finally told him where to go. And I meant
it! It’s over, Cam. It’s all in the past now.”

He doesn’t smile. With a sinking feeling, I
realize what I’ve done: disobeyed him. And to speak to Brent, which
could endanger me and my case even more. “I’m sorry,” I blurt
quickly. “I know you ordered me not to talk to him, but I had to
try.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Cam says, but
his face softens. “Did you mean what you just said to him?”

“About how crazy in love with you I am?” I
meet his eyes and nod. “Every word.”

Cam grins, even though I can tell he’s still
mad at me, too. “I’d proud of you, Isabelle,” he says, pulling me
into his arms. “I know it took a lot of courage to stand up to him
like that. But why didn’t you tell me? I could have been here for
you.”

“I needed to come alone,” I explain,
relieved. “Brent loves to show off. I knew that if I pushed him, I
could get him to reveal what he’s doing behind all of this.”

“And?” Cam asks.

“And, I think I figured it out.” I look at
him, my excitement building. “He said it was a girl, the witness
he’s paying off to lie about what happened.”

Cam pulls out his phone. “I’ll tell Jake.
Maybe that will narrow it down.”

“You don’t need to call him, I already know
who it is. Britney, my foster sister. She was the only other one
who could have been at the house that day. She’s the one who’s
lying, she has to be.”

After Isabelle figures out that Brent is
paying her former foster-sister to claim she killed Clayton on
purpose, we have to move fast. I get Jake to dig out everything he
can on this supposed witness; he tracks her to an address in
Florida, not far from where Isabelle grew up.

“Petty theft, some drug charges, looks like
she’s not exactly a model citizen,” Jake says on our conference
call. I have the phone on speaker so Isabelle can hear, too.

“Doesn’t that help us?” she asks. “I mean,
in court.”

Grant clears his throat, then speaks up on
the other end of the line. “Maybe. But relying on a witnesses’
character is never a sure thing. After all, the prosecution will be
trying to paint you as a bad person, too. They’ll use photos of you
partying, all kinds of things to show you’re of poor moral
character.”

“Which is why it’s important to get to this
Britney and convince her to stop lying,” I decide. “We take off in
a few minutes, I’ll call you once we land.”

I hang up and turn to Isabelle, sitting
beside me in the cabin of the private company plane. It’s
luxurious, with leather seats and a hostess on call to bring
anything we want, but Isabelle looks terrified.

“Are you scared of flying?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m scared of what
happens when we land.”

I pull her closer, squeezing her hand as the
pilot revs up the engine and we taxi down the private airstrip. We
take off smoothly, and soon, the small plane is cruising above the
country.

“Score one for the Ashcroft fortune,”
Isabelle cracks, trying to smile. The hostess comes back to take
our orders.

“Can I get you anything?”

Isabelle shakes her head.

“You haven’t eaten all day, and we need to
keep you in fighting shape,” I remind her. “We’ll take some fruit,
and a couple of club sandwiches, thank you,” I request from the
hostess. She moves back to the cabin to prepare our food.

Isabelle stares out of the window, anxiously
twisting her bracelet around. I hate that she’s stuck in this
nightmare, even though I’m doing everything I can to get her out.
She’s so brave, facing down Brent and getting the information about
the witness, but seeing her here, none of that strength is
apparent: she looks like a scared child.

I don’t understand it. And then it hits me.
She’s going home.

“You haven’t been back since Ashcroft
adopted you?” I ask, concerned.

“No.” Isabelle swallows. “He offered… said
we could try and find my mom, if I wanted, or relatives. You know,
have a sense of my past. But I didn’t want to. The day I left, I
swore I’d never go back.”