The memory of my fingers deep inside of her haunted me. It had been a few days, and I couldn’t even bury myself in another warm hole because every time I went to Badlands to look for one, all the other women in the vicinity came up short in comparison.
At least none of them had stirred anything below the belt.
“Oh, Sam …” Gerald rubbed his face tiredly, flipping through his books.
“That’s the point where I’m supposed to ask how you’re doing, right, Gerry?” I sat across from him, lighting a cigarette.
“It is.” His chin quivered. “And the answer is terrible. I am beside myself. I moved out of my marital bedroom.”
“Ah, the old doghouse,” I said dryly, unable to scrap an ounce of pity for the man.
“The doghouse is better than sharing a bed with a bitch. I don’t want to be anywhere near her. She goddamn nearly killed me, Sam. And the worst part is she is still denying it. Trying to poison me. Damn woman.”
The fact that everyone suspected Jane Fitzpatrick was the person who poisoned Gerald was a new development to me but one I welcomed nonetheless. I wanted to toy with the man, to mess with his psyche.
“Have you made the list yet?” I probed. “The faster we get to the bottom of this, the quicker we can move on from this.”
I was referring to the list of mistresses he’d kept over the years. I’d insisted on him confessing to every single one. For research purposes, of course. “Jealousy and desperation for money are key aspects in trying to mess with someone,” I explained.
“I did.” Gerald puffed his cheeks. “Three nights it took me. Doing this made me realize something, you know, son? It made me see that I’ve been spending most of my time with women but none of it with the woman I was married to. Such a sad state of affairs. Ironically, I won’t be giving Jane more attention now, after what she put me through.”
“Hand me the list.” I ignored his little speech. I wasn’t in the mood for his fucking TED talk. If he needed to sit down and write the names of all the women he’d slept with while married to figure out his marriage was a sham, he had the IQ of the room temperature.
Reluctantly, Gerald opened the drawer in his desk, throwing me cautious looks. He clutched the papers—all fucking three of them—to his chest like a maiden protecting her virtue.
“There’ll be some names you might recognize on the list. I trust everything in this room is confidential.”
“Sure,” I spat out. I was a professional, yes, but this man fucked my mother. Then killed my brother inside her. Then convinced her to leave me.
I was professional but not a dumbass.
He dragged the list across the desk, and I snatched it, my eyes roaming, looking for the name I was waiting to see.
I recognized some of the women. A news anchor, a congresswoman, the former Secretary of State’s wife, and the daughter of a baseball legend.
But I did not see Catalina Greystone’s name.
I skimmed again. And again. And a-motherfucking-gain.
Still. Nothing.
I looked up from the pages, scanning him silently while my blood hummed. Anger was a potent spice. Too much of it dulled your senses. But I couldn’t help but feel irrationally cross. Why didn’t he put her name in there? Ah, but I already knew. He must be privy to the fact she died not too long ago and figured she couldn’t be behind the sex scandal leak and the poisoning since it was a little difficult to haunt a man when you were six feet under.
Truth was, Catalina posed no threat to him now, and I had no reason to call him out on it without outing myself as knowing about him. If I wanted a confession out of him, I needed to up my game.
I folded the pages and stood up, smiling.
“I’ll have a look.”
“Let me know if something pops up.” He rubbed his forehead, looking like a less-alive version of a roadkill. “I just want this nightmare to be over. I put extra cameras around the house to make sure I am protected. I want to believe it is not Jane, but with our history …” He shook his head, heaving a sigh.
Making my way out of his office, I wondered why the fuck I was so invested in making Gerald’s life a living hell. I didn’t care one iota about Cat. Sure, Gerald wronged me on a fundamental level, maybe even killed my half-brother, but did he really do something to throw my life off course in a negative way? If anything, I should thank my lucky stars Cat had left me with the Brennans when she did. Hell knew where I’d be if she stuck around to “parent” me.