Chapter 16
Suddenly, Balfour’s hand shot out, his broad palm clamping down hard around her throat. His eyes burned with a cold, ruthless fury.
“Cynthia, didn’t I warn you to stay away from Lynne? I told you, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. All I ask is that you behave yourself and leave Lynne alone!“}]
Cynthia felt his grip dig painfully into her neck. Tears slid down her cheeks, cheap and unwanted, but when she looked up at Balfour, her gaze was full of resentment.
“Balfour, you said you wanted to be with me. You said I was the one you loved. So why can’t I be Mrs. Tobin, openly and honestly? Why is it that I have to leave everything behind and run away with you, while Lynne gets everything I’ve ever wanted–handed to her on a silver platter?”
“You chose me, didn’t you? So why am I still the one who has to suffer?“}
Her voice was sharp and furious, cutting through the room. She didn’t care that his hand was still locked tight around her throat.
For a moment, Balfour was stunned by the look on her face. The anger, the pain. His grip loosened, and he let go, almost in a daze.%
He staggered back, unsteady on his feet.
Unable to meet her eyes, he looked away, staring at the phone lying in the corner. “Lynne is dead. I won’t let anyone slander her. I’ll get to the bottom of this–I won’t let anyone hurt her again!“}
Cynthia’s face crumpled, the fight draining out of her. She couldn’t even muster another bitter retort.
Right then, she realized she was the biggest joke of all.
A hollow laugh burst from her lips, echoing off the walls–shrill and sharp, making Balfour wince. But he didn’t spare her a glance. Instead, he carefully picked up Lynne’s phone and tucked it safely into his pocket.}
He didn’t notice when Cynthia finally left.§
Numb, Balfour went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He twisted off the cap and drank straight from the bottle, gulp after burning gulp.
Only when he was drunk could he see Lynne.
He knew she was still angry with him. If he drank enough, if he punished himself enough, maybe she’d finally forgive him. Maybe she’d come back, just for a moment, and stop being angry.
He was drowning in despair, haunted by the memory of her silhouette.
“Lynne… Lynne…”
When Balfour woke up again, he was in a hospital bed.
Sexton emerged from the doctor’s office, took one look at Balfour’s hollow, red–rimmed eyes, and let out a heavy sigh.”
YOU’H
“Balfour, last time was already a warning. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’ll go blind from crying at this rate!“}
Balfour didn’t answer.
Suddenly, something on the hospital TV caught his attention–a glimpse of an art gallery, a fleeting figure.”
He jerked upright and fixed his gaze on Sexton.
“Where is this?!*%
Sexton blinked. “The hospital, obviously,” he answered, scratching his head, worried Balfour was losing his mind.
But Balfour cut him off sharply. “No, I mean the place on the TV!“}
He pointed insistently at the screen.
“How should I know? Balfour, what exactly are you trying to do?“%
Balfour’s face was grim. “Find out I need to know where that is.”
He never took his eyes off the screen. That figure–he was sure it was her. Even if it wasn’t, he had to see for himself.
As soon as Sexton found the address, Balfour bought a plane ticket without hesitation.
But before he could leave, his phone rang. Cynthia
As he remembered the way she’d left that night, Balfour’s brow furrowed. It was time to finally put an end to things between them. Lynne was gone, and she’d taken his heart with her. He knew he would never love another woman again.
He answered, but before he could say a word, Cynthia’s hoarse, trembling voice came through the line.
“Mr. Tobin, your woman’s with me. If you want to save her, come to Warehouse Nine. And come alone.“%
