BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (44 page)

“It’s done.”

Every bit of unrequited affection flipped into indignation, equally as intense, but altogether different. Jaw locking, she wheezed from the pain and whispered, “I hate you.”

He wouldn’t even touch her. “You have every right. I’m so sorry. Goodbye, Ms. Farrow.
”

****

Reaching into his pocket, Asher removed his phone. His hands trembled terribly as his vision blurred. Sweeping his thumb over the screen, he sent an already typed text to Steve telling him to come get her. Shutting his eyes, trying to block out her gasps, he raced to the door as it opened and Steve entered, a look of shock taking over his face as his eyes jerked away from Scarlet’s naked form.

He couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes. He was too ashamed of what h
e’
d done. He should have never involved himself in her life. This entire attempt to be someone else ended in another disgraceful failure, his inadequacies driven home with the force of a meteor.

Steve caught his arm as he shoved past him, his eyes searching for some form of explanation.

“Please,” Asher wheezed, finding it impossible to hold his emotions inside. “See that she gets home safely.”

Disbelief flashed in Steve’s eyes as Asher shook off his hold and raced down the front steps. The cold cut through his clothes as he hurried around the side of the mansion to his car. Pressure built in his chest so tight he worried he was having some sort of attack. He climbed inside, jamming the key in the ignition and missing completely as his shaking transcended to a full body tremor. “God damn it!” he shouted.

When the keys finally slid into the hole he overturned the motor and sped away from the house. He took the turns furiously, breath panting through his teeth as the consuming pain in his chest tightened.

His fingers gripped the wheel as his jaw locked. His vision blurred.

Go back to her. You can fix this.

With every passing mile he begged himself to turn around, but the coward inside of him held its ground on a continued escape. The further he went the more permanent his decision became.

He couldn’t imagine her calling for him. She’d likely already made up her mind to hate him forever. That was best. He blew out a harsh breath. He’d always be less than what she deserved and the sooner she realized that the better off she’d be.

****

Scarlet’s knees softened and she collapsed like a broken doll to the floor, a marionette cut loose from its strings. For several minutes she cried blindly on the cool tile. What sort of a mind fuck had she consented to? This wasn’t what she’d asked for, hoped for, and nothing close to what she assumed they’d shared.

Her chest shook with each gut-wrenching sob.
Why?
It was the only word she could think in that moment.

A throat cleared and Scarlet stilled like a small creature in the presence of a great, unforeseen predator. She reached for the mask—

“I’m afraid the mask must stay on, Ms. Farrow, or there could be consequences.
”
It was Pennyworth.

“Why is he doing this?”

“I don’t know, Ms. Farrow.” The weight of her coat whispered over her shoulders.

Who
were
these people? Dropping her trembling hands, she bitterly denigrated herself for not taking that question more seriously until now. Her ignorance was frightening and her own stupid fault.

It was all fake for him, but so very real for her. The pain consumed her and she shook with the effort of containing it.

“If you’ll allow me to help yo
u
… The rest of your clothing’s in the Mercedes and once we’re a few miles out you’ll have permission to remove the blindfold. I’ll deliver you home, safely, as promised.
”

His voice was always soft and kind, now spoke of barely contained rage, which made her reluctant to go with him. But what other choice did she have. Reluctant to trust anyone, she begged, “Please don’t hurt me.” Her disgrace bloomed into crippling humiliation.

“Never, Ms. Farrow.” Her feet left the ground as strong arms lifted her to a warm chest. “I have you. The cars only a few feet away.”

Beneath her confusion rested gratitude for his assistance. Cold wind bit into her exposed skin as he quickly carried her down the steps. He fed her into the warm leather-scented car idling and shut the door.

As soon as he reached the driver’s seat the car swayed into motion. Her head rolled back, her body weak from the emotional assault she still couldn’t fathom. Debased. It was the only reoccurring word that made sense in that moment. He’d debased her without even fucking her. He’d betrayed her, tricked her into loving him, while knowing full well that nothing would ever come of her wasted heart.

She’d likely be waiting a long time for the fallout of their experience to stop resonating. It traveled beyond hurt, reaching to such depths, filling her with such angst the pain gradually transcended to numb agony.

For as lonely as her world had been three months ago, returning to it—cherished, then rejected—made her perfectly aware of just how vacant her future would be.  Nothing was worth such anguish.

Suddenly furious, she wanted no trace of him left on her body. “I’m taking this off. Go ahead and tell him.”

She ripped the blindfold from her face, peeling back the lace moistened by tears. The chauffeur sighed, but didn’t object. He appeared quite distraught for an outsider and she took comfort in their fragile alliance—unsure how it compared to his loyalties to Mr. Stone.

Needing the shelter of her clothing, she ignored her surroundings and hastily dressed, her survival instincts kicking into autopilot. Spontaneous words laced with anger came barreling from her lips.

“You can tell him I never want him to contact me again. He’s not the man I thought he was. No
man
would do this. He’s just a scared little boy and you can tell him I said so.”

The driver remained silent, his eyes modestly avoiding the mirror, but his brow creased with what she assumed was uneasiness. While he didn’t verbally agree with her assessment of his employer, he also didn’t disagree.

She saw more than anyone realized—blind or not. She’d read Mr. Stone and sensed his vulnerability. She loved that gentle part of him that seemed to need what they shared as much as she did, but he’d destroyed everything.

He lacked the courage to see the person he truly was. But Scarlet saw him. Blind or not, she saw the real him and knew one day he’d come to see his mistake.

****

Asher didn’t return home for several hours. When he finally entered the house, the sky was deep mauve announcing the oncoming light of a new dawn. Arms weak and shoulders burdened, he staggered into the den.

“You’re back.
”
Steve’s words interrupted his assent to the couch.

“Hey,
”
he rasped. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Steve rested his elbows on his knees, his brow pinched as he shook his head. “I’m leaving, Ash.”

“What?
”
He was so tired.

“I quit.”

Asher turned. “Why?”

“I can’t work for someone who does whatever it is you do.”

Knowing he’d asked a lot of the other man, but unable to take any more criticism than he’d already drilled into himself, he defensively asked. “And what is it I do, Steve?”

“You’re a bully. And I made you stronger.”

He scoffed. Knowing full well what a bully was and that he wasn’t one. “You don’t know the first thing about bullies.”

“No? When I was a kid I had terrible acne. I was scrawny and short and always picked last in gym. I wasn’t always the man I am now. But at least I can claim to be a man. A real man knows his strength and doesn’t flaunt it. He takes responsibility for his actions. A real man doesn’t do what you did to that woman.”

I am not a bully!
He ended things because he couldn’t handle what they had. “Do you think I hit her, Steve? I’d never—”

“No. What you did was worse. You dishonored her, humiliated her, and used her in a game to satisfy some sorry part of yourself with no intention of taking responsibility for your actions. And I helped you.”

He swallowed. “You don’t understand.” He couldn’t explain his decision. He was exhausted and mentally drained. “If you love someone, you let them go. You do what’s best for them. That’s what I did.”

“You don’t get it, do you? A bully doesn’t have to use his fists to hurt someone. He’s just a coward passing off his pain to someone that doesn’t deserve it.”

Asher swallowed painfully. “I never meant to hurt her.”

“Then you seriously lost control of the situation, Asher. I had to wrap her naked body in a coat and carry her to the car. You killed her.”

No. He didn’t want to hear this. “She’ll recover.” She was strong.

“You left!
”
Steve snapped, jumping to his feet. “You didn’t see the look in her eyes or hear her sobs! How could you think your actions wouldn't hurt her? Have you ever even talked to her?”

“Have you?”

“Yes!”

Asher stilled. Scarlet had mentioned she and Steve talked, but Steve had strict instructions not to reveal any of his personal business. “You weren’t supposed to.”

“She talked, I listened. Jesus, Asher, that woman loved you. Every damn note you sent, she’d hold it to her heart and try to scent you in the paper. She gladly tied on that stupid blindfold just to go to you, to spend one measly night in your presence. Do you know how lucky you were to have a woman that dedicated to you? And you destroyed it. You destroyed her.”

He couldn’t breathe. Steve was wrong. He had to be wrong. “She didn’t love me,
”
he rasped, desperately waiting for Steve to confirm. “She loved a fantasy.”

“She loved you, you shmuck. It doesn’t matter what name you go by, she fell for the man she
thought
you were. That man was
you,
Asher.”

He didn’t know that! How was he supposed to believe in something when there was no tangible proof?
“Then why didn’t she tell me?”

“Love isn’t something you say. It’s something you feel. You’re a smart guy. Don’t be naïve.”

Breath jagged, shoulders tensed, he tried to understand. The episode in the coffee shop raced through his head like a steel train, shaking him to the core. Westerman asked for her number and she wrote something down. She smiled and acted agreeable to seeing Westerman again. People in love didn’t make dates with other men. She should have told that prick to get fucked—

He suddenly saw himself hiding in the shadows; too afraid to even pass the bully his credit card in the chance he might recognize his name. Why was it okay for him to hide, but he expected her to confront someone three times her size who’d hurt her in the past? He was a hypocrite.

Credit card...

He slowly panted as he replayed the moment in slow motion. She didn’t give him her number. She signed the receipt. Chills chased up his spine and down his arms. Could he have misread her response? Maybe that was how she dealt with people like Westerman, humored them, pacified them with a smile in order to escape unscathed as quickly as possible.

A cold sweat blanketed him.
What have I done?

His face dropped to his palms as Steve’s feet crept into his view.

His mind worked, rapidly trying to recall everything he’d said. Maybe she wasn’t as upset as Steve imagined. Maybe there was still time to fix this. “I need to talk to her.
”