For Alice, With Love

Chapter 22 - The Truth

Gillian was standing just inside the doorway when he rounded the corner, and Chris swore under his breath and prepared himself for battle. He assumed Mel had seen her too, because a tiny squeak in surprise just met his ears, and footsteps reversed away from them.

"Get out," he growled, stopping just at the edge of the foyer. "If you know what is good for you, you'll leave."

"I can't Chris. I need—"

"I know what you need, and you aren't getting it, Gill. Did you think you could just sneak in here, grab that evidence and run?" he said, cutting her off.

Gillian's face drained of colour and she stumbled slightly, and he took a step, praying she wasn't about to faint. That wouldn't be good for the baby.

"So you found it," she replied, and sat heavily on the ornate oak bench along one side near the coat closet. "What will you do with it?"

"What do you think?" Chris snapped. "I can't not hand it over. Not with you taking that money out of my account to pay them off."

"Please don't. I can't go to jail. Not now," she said, her hands fluttering over her stomach.

"For God's sake. What were you fucking thinking? Did Jet make you deliver drugs for him? If he coerced you it is one thing, but why the fuck were you being blackmailed? I could go down with you for this."

He watched as her eyes hardened and she looked up at him, hate in her glare. He stood his ground, and folded his arms, the poker still in his hand.

"You wouldn't care if I told you. So fuck off. My choice, asshole."

"Just like college, Gill. Same fucking line. How many times did we pull you out of some party house downtown where you were so tweaked out you barely remembered your name, huh? Did you think being rich and married would mean you could get high in classy condos instead of on a filthy flea-infested mattress?"

"Not like that," she mumbled. "I'm sober, have been for a long time. I was buying and selling, with Jet. We just got in too deep with somebody."

The last vestiges of guilt over his failed marriage crack away as she said it. None of this had ever truly been real, and she had never been the right woman for him. He saw that now. The façade of her being turned around was just that. She'd gone right back to her old ways the moment they'd signed the marriage license.

"I see. So you owed someone bigger than you, is that it?" he probed, and set the poker down. He didn't need it anymore. He flicked a glance sideways, and Mel was tucked away around the corner, her phone on her ear. She put a finger to her lips and he knew that at the very least, police were on their way.

"I don't expect you to understand," she stood up again, and her arms flew out around her. "All this, it has always been yours. Chris the prodigy, Chris the golden boy! Silver Spoon Smith! I needed you to make me legitimate and get sober away from all the shit. I never expected to have to sign that damned prenup, or stay married to you longer than I had to. It all fucking blew up. My inheritance is going to get spent on dildos and hipster condos by my sister and her girlfriend. I won't see a dime. So I needed you."

Chris raised his eyebrows at that. What? Was it always in the plan for her to find a rich man to cover for her? Did she always know about the clause in her parent's wills?

"So finding out about your stipend after the fact was an act. You knew all along."

"Of course I did. Jet knew too. We had plans, you know."

"You've been in with Jet for a long time, haven't you," he stated quietly.

"Since before I met you, darling," she snarled, and walked towards him. "Who do you think used to sell to me? Now hand over my envelope."