Ruthless Regret (Ruthless Games Duology #2)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

ASHLEY

“Go and pack. If we leave soon, we can be back home before it’s dark.”

Before I can reply to Jessa, there’s a knock at the front door.

“That will probably be the sheriff,” my mom says. “I’ll let him in.”

“No. I’ll do it.” I walk through the house.

“Ms. Trumont,” he greets me when I open the door, then quickly corrects himself. “Mrs. Ryder.”

I swallow hard. Mrs. Ryder —I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called that. Not that I’ll need to. As soon as I go back to New York, I’ll look into seeing if I can get the marriage annulled.

“Come in.”

He steps inside. “I know you’ve been through a lot today, but I’d appreciate it if you can just go through what happened at the house with me.”

I lead him into the living room, and wave a hand at one of the chairs. I remain standing. I’m not sure I can stay still. I’m still on edge, and my head feels like it’s about to explode.

“How are you feeling? What happened must have been very traumatic.”

“I think I’m still processing.”

He nods. “Do you think you can tell me what happened? What you saw, heard, anything that might help us identify who it was.”

I take a deep breath, and try to collect my thoughts. “Before we talk about that, I want to know who was arrested.”

“No one was arrested. That was a wrong claim on Zain’s part. We brought someone in for questioning. It’s not the same thing, and truthfully, I’d prefer not to share their name right now. Not after what happened with Zain, who was judged before the case even made it to trial. I don’t want to deal with another witch hunt.”

“There’s only the two of us in here.”

“And how can I be sure you won’t talk to someone, Mrs. Ryder?”

“I deserve to know.”

“Why? You were just a witness in the original trial, not the person on trial.” He looks around the room. “I say this with the utmost respect, but any information regarding the reopening of the case is really nothing to do with you.”

“Someone attacked me today!” The headache that’s been a dull throb increases until my vision blurs.

“Yes, they did, but we have no proof that it has any connection to a fourteen-year-old case.”

“You really think it isn’t?”

“I think that it could be linked in the sense of it being someone angry that Zain was released, or maybe angry with you because you testified against him. But beyond that, I don’t think our investigation into the original case holds any relevance to today’s incident.” He waves a hand toward me. “But until you tell me, in your own words, what happened today, I won’t be able to make an assessment on whether there’s any link. So, if you don’t mind …”

I glare at him. He says nothing.

“Like I told you, it all happened so fast. I was in the bathroom, and when I came back into the kitchen, there was a man standing there. At first I thought it was Zain, but then I saw the mask. He grabbed me, and dragged me toward the door. I fought to escape, and that’s when his arm went through the window.” I keep my sentences short and clipped, just wanting to get my description over with.

The sheriff nods, jotting down notes. “Did he say anything to you?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing.”

“And then what happened?”

“I tried to stop him from dragging me outside, but he was stronger than me. It wasn’t until Zain shouted, that he was distracted long enough for me to break free.”

He lifts his head. “What happened when he saw Zain?”

“Zain ran toward us. I got free and … I think I tripped. When I looked, he was coming toward me with a knife. Zain ran at him, and he fled. He was gone before Zain could catch him.”

McFadden scratches his chin. “And there was nothing that could identify him?”

“No. He was wearing a mask the whole time.”

The sheriff jots down a few more notes before looking up at me again. “Mrs. Ryder, I’m going to be honest with you. Whoever this was, I believe that they were targeting you , specifically.”

A chill runs down my spine. “Not Zain?”

“It’s a possibility, but if that was the case, I don’t think he’d have waited in the kitchen. He’d have been on the move looking for Zain before you came out of the bathroom.”

“Why would someone want to target me? ”

“Truthfully? With the media attention around Zain’s release, and then his shock announcement today that he’s married to the woman who stood on the stand and claimed he murdered her brother … There are people out there who are obsessed with true crime. There’s a popular video channel that has always believed Zain was innocent, and that you were responsible for his conviction.”

I wrap my arms around myself. “You think it’s someone who thinks I need to pay for that? What am I supposed to do now?”

“Surrounding yourself with people is a step in the right direction. It keeps you safe. I’ll make sure there are a couple of deputies outside. But I would suggest laying low for a while, at least until the media stops focusing on Zain’s release.”

My decision to go back to New York solidifies in a heartbeat. “I was thinking about going back to New York.”

He frowns slightly, then nods. “That might be a good idea. It puts you out of Zain’s orbit completely, which should also take any unwanted attention away from you as well.” He stands. “I’ll keep you updated, if we find anything further.”

“Thank you.” I walk him to the door, and watch while he gets into his car and drives away. As soon as he’s gone, I walk through to the kitchen, where my mom, Jessa-Mae and Karla are waiting.

“What did the sheriff say?” Karla asks.

I let out a long, shaky breath. “He thinks I’m being targeted, and agreed that leaving town is the best option.”

“Then let’s get you packed, and get out of here.”

“Wait.” My mom blocks the door. “Ashley, slow down. You’re running away again.”

“No, I’m?—”

“This is what happened when you turned eighteen. You couldn’t get out of town fast enough.”

“The sheriff said it was a good idea.”

“But is it? If someone is targeting you, don’t you think they might follow you? Surely staying here is the better option?”

I shake my head. Leaving town feels like the right thing to do. For the first time in days, I’m in control of my decisions.

I’m leaving Whitstone, leaving Zain, and going home to New York … where I belong. Where I can go back to being the person I’d built myself up to be.

“Please, let me pass so I can get my suitcase.”

She holds my gaze for a second longer, then sighs and steps to the side. I pause on my way past and kiss her cheek as a peace offering.

In my room, I grab my suitcase, thankfully I hadn’t unpacked it, then turn back to the door. As I do, I glance over at the bed. My eyes catch on the wedding ring. For half a second, I consider leaving it, letting it become just another discarded memory. But something makes me walk over, bend, and pick it up. I don’t put it on, but I slip it into my pocket.

Why?

It’s not because I want it, that’s for certain.

It’s because I need the reminder. A reminder of what I’ve been through, what Zain put me through.

Jessa and Karla are waiting in the hall when I walk down the stairs.

“Are you ready to go?”

I nod. I’m going to need a new cell phone. Zain still has mine, and I’m not prepared to go and beg him for it.

I stop. The case my cell is in has my driving license in it. While I could drive without it, I don’t want to risk being pulled over by the police and have to explain why I don’t have my license.

“I need to leave my car here. Can I get a ride with you?” I wait for them to ask why.

When they don’t, I relax a little.

I can apply for a new license once I’m back home. Maybe I can arrange for someone to come and get my car. But they’re problems for another day. A day when my head isn’t pounding, and the only thing I want to do is get out of town.

I say goodbye to my mom. It’s clear that she’s unhappy with my decision, but she doesn’t argue or try to change my mind. Karla puts my suitcase in the trunk, and I take the backseat, leaving the front passenger seat for Jessa-Mae.

But as the car drives slowly down the street, I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over.