Page 108 of Make Me Sin (Bad Habit 2)
he hotel comes into view, I see the second wrong thing.
A car, parked next to the fountain in the driveway. It’s a beauty, too, a brand new Rolls-Royce Ghost, black on black, sleek and shiny. For a moment, I’m confused.
Did A.J.’s manager come here?
The strange feeling gets stronger. I park my car next to the Ghost. I try to look inside, but the windows are blacked-out limo tint; no luck. I hurry inside, take the staircase two steps at a time, and run down the hallway toward room twenty-seven, my handbag bouncing at my side.
Calm down! I tell myself. But it doesn’t work. I’m panicking. I know, on a deep gut level, that something is very, very wrong.
When I open the door to the room I’ve been living in for the past two months, it only gets worse.
A.J. is in bed. He’s lying on his back with his hands beneath his head, staring at the ceiling. He’s bare chested, the lower half of his body under a sheet, but I can tell he’s naked. Though it’s midafternoon and still light outside, all the candles are lit. It’s warm in the room, too warm, and it smells like . . . perfume?
I step inside. He turns his head and looks at me. What I see in his eyes—the deadness, the total lack of light—stops me short.
“A.J.? Are you all right, sweetie? You missed the meeting.”
Before he can answer, I hear a sound that stops my heart cold in my chest.
The toilet flushes.
Someone is in the bathroom.
A.J. is naked in bed, in our bed, and someone is in the bathroom.
Then the bathroom door opens and my world comes to an end.
Heavenly steps out, brushing her long, wet hair with a brush I instantly recognize as mine. My grandmother gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday; it’s a sterling silver boar’s hair brush with my initials inscribed on the back. She looks up, sees me standing in the doorway, and freezes.
She’s nude. She’s beautiful. She’s just taken a shower.
She’s just fucked the man I love.
A noise comes out of me, an ugly, choked groan from deep within my chest. It sounds like an animal in agony.
Heavenly drops her arms to her sides. She makes no move to cover herself. She doesn’t even look surprised to see me. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, looking away.
Sorry for what? Killing me? Because that’s exactly what she’s done. She’s just stabbed me a thousand times in the heart with a dagger. She’s just shot me in the gut with a shotgun. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Everything is suddenly too bright, too loud, too close. I feel like I’m suffocating, drowning, like I’ve jumped off a building and am falling at top speed toward the ground. My heart pounds and my hands shake and my throat is closing up.
For the final blow, Bella ambles from the bathroom, sits at Heavenly’s feet, looks up at her, and barks.
I know that bark. It’s her “feed me” bark. It’s a bark she’d only make with someone she’s comfortable with.
With someone she loves.
Oh God. They’ve been doing this all along. I’ve been going to work every day like a stupid, naïve little girl, and my man and his whore have been fucking in the bed that we share. If I hadn’t come home early, I’d never have caught them. I would have let A.J. put his hands and mouth on me tonight, I would have believed every murmured word of worship and love that passed his lips.
I feel the exact moment when my face crumples. I back up a step, clutching my stomach, tasting bile in the back of my throat. I look over at A.J., but he’s gone back to staring at the ceiling.
In a voice devoid of any shred of emotion, he says, “I’ll pack up your things and have them sent to the shop.”
I’ve been dismissed. Just like that, I’m no longer needed.
I’m no longer wanted.
It’s all been a lie.
There’s nothing left to say or do, so I simply turn and run.
