Page 19 of Beautiful Killer

“It’s fine, Zeke,” she said cutting me off. Then she fucking smiled.

It was false as hell.

The idea of not coming back tomorrow night tore me up and that’s exactly why I couldn’t come back. It was not fine. How the hell could she lie there and pretend this didn’t suck, that this didn’t matter, that tomorrow she’d wake up and what? Pretend none of this ever happened? That we never happened?

Looked that way, because she just sat there and gave me nothing. The woman was so closed off. Shit, maybe even more than me. Under that pretty exterior there was a whole lot going on, but she was locked up tight.

“You hide behind that beautiful smile, don’t you, darlin’?” I heard myself say.

She jerked back. “No, I . . . I . . .” She sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. “There’s just . . . nothing to say. We both knew this was casual.” She shrugged a slender shoulder, then started twisting that ring on her thumb. “Now you’re leaving.” Her eyes slid away from me. “You were always going to leave.”

There was so much behind her words. So damn much. Sunny was oceans deep and I’d only seen the surface. I fucking hated that, too.

I should get up and leave now, but I lifted my hand and cupped her face, because I had to touch her one last time. “Woman like you shouldn’t be hiding. Don’t hide, Sunshine.” She didn’t move, just stared at me with those wide eyes as I pulled away and climbed out of her bed.

She stayed there, said nothing as I cleaned up, got dressed, and walked toward the door.

And this time, before I walked out, I didn’t look back.

Sunny

I stared at myself in the mirror and smiled, forcing my lips to curl up on the sides. Why was smiling so hard lately?

I shook my head. I knew exactly why I wasn’t feeling myself. It had been over a week since Zeke had walked out of my bedroom, after he’d delivered parting words that had been on constant loop in my head since. Words that hit far too close to home.

We’d run our course. He’d said he had nothing else to give and I appreciated his honesty. I’d known all along we were on limited time, and I was okay with that . . . well, I thought I was. Maybe somewhere deep inside, some silly wishful part of me had imagined that he might decide he wanted more, that he might want me. I knew that kind of thinking was dangerous, useless. I knew better.

I swiped lip-gloss across my lips and looked into my own eyes. You’re not enough. My ex’s words shifted through my head. Pain sliced through me and I quickly shook it off. Why the hell was I thinking about Richard? We broke up three years ago. Zeke and I had never had a proper relationship. Kids, a life together, had never factored. If I was feeling fragile, I had no one to blame but myself.

I pushed away from the bathroom counter, went back to my room, and opened my jewelry box. I wanted to wear something of my mother’s today. I hated to admit it, but I needed to feel close to someone, even if it was a mother I didn’t remember. I reached for the pale pink velvet pouch I kept the fine, chain-link bracelet in. She used to wear it all the time—well, I assumed she did anyway, since she had it on in most of the photos. I opened the pouch, reached inside, and frowned. Not there.

I lifted the top out of my jewelry case to check out the lower level. Nothing. I moved around my bed, bent down, and opened the door in my bedside table. My safe was in there and quickly entered the combination to open the door. Carefully removing my grandmother’s jewelry, which was very valuable and the reason I hardly ever wore it, I did a quick search. Not in there, either.

Maybe I left it at the shop? But I couldn’t remember taking it off there. I couldn’t actually remember the last time I wore it. I fought off the freak-out threatening. It had to be here somewhere. I didn’t have time to look now, unfortunately. I needed to get to the shop.

I opened up, only fifteen minutes late, and kept myself busy between customers dusting and redoing several of the display cabinets. What I didn’t do was allow myself to think about Zeke. Nope. The way he smelled, the feel of his body against mine, the scrape of his whiskers against my skin—the way he’d sometimes called me Sunshine with that deep Texas drawl of his.

A woman walked in and I busied myself helping her pick out a gift for her sister. She chose a silver and turquoise necklace, one of my favorites. I had one similar and I’d been tempted to keep this one as well, but I couldn’t keep everything I liked or I’d have no stock.

We were making small talk, she was telling me about her sister’s dinner party, how much she was looking forward to it, which got us talking about food, then restaurants. I didn’t really know any good spots because eating on your own surrounded by couples and families wasn’t something I enjoyed. Or chose to put myself through.

She smiled at me and dropped her hand to her belly. It was slightly rounded. “Do you have any kids?”

I blinked at her, somehow utterly thrown by her question.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” she said, obviously noticing my reaction.

“No . . . it’s fine . . . I . . . um . . . I . . .” I bit my lip, then grabbed for the counter as a wave of emotion smashed into me, like a head-on collision out of nowhere, so hard and fast and unexpected, and with so much power, a sob threatened to explode past my lips.

The woman in front of me looked shocked and I didn’t blame her.

Humiliation heated my face at the same time my eyes started stinging. Oh God, I was going to cry.

“Are you okay?” she said.

I needed to stop, but the floodgates opened wider and tears escaped. What the hell was wrong with me?

The woman in front of me stood there with her mouth hanging open.

Mortified, I shoved the bag with her necklace at her. And obviously freaked by my sudden outburst, she took it and all but ran from the shop. I followed and threw the lock on the door then went to the back. Another wave of deep sadness washed over me and I grabbed for the small desk beside me to stop from sinking to the floor. Then I gave up and did exactly that. I don’t know how long it had been since I’d allowed myself to cry, probably years, and now the tears were flowing, there was no holding them back. No stopping it. And for once, I didn’t try. I let it overtake me, the sadness, the loneliness I tried to pretend I didn’t feel.

But God, I was, I was so damn lonely.

I don’t know how long I stayed there—quite a while. When the tears finally dried up, I picked myself up, reapplied my makeup, and opened the shop back up.

And for the first time in a long time, I admitted to myself that I wished I had someone there to ask if I was okay, to offer me a hug. But there was no one, there never had been. I didn’t understand what had come over me, why today for some reason everything got too much and I broke. But I did know it wasn’t going to happen again. I was going to go back to being content, happy in my solitude.

Back to the way I’d been before I met Zeke.

There was no other choice.