The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 45

The black Bentley slipped out of Misty Vale, gliding quietly down the road. Inside the car, a streetlight cast a pale glow that barely touched Franco, leaving half of him swallowed by shadows. He absentmindedly rubbed the bite mark on his left hand.

“Franco, Hassan’s doctor just called,” Jay said, hands steady on the wheel. “He’s out of danger. No risks to his brain. He’ll be discharged soon, maybe in a few days.”

Franco pressed his thumb against the bite mark, his gaze lost in the shifting light that filtered through the trees. Behind his glasses, his eyes looked impossibly deep. “Take the men away from his room. He can leave whenever he wants.”

“Got it,” Jay replied.

As soon as they cleared Misty Vale, Jay picked up speed. The Bentley disappeared around the bend, swallowed by the night.

***

Past midnight, in the master bedroom at Misty Vale.

Petty stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, her skin still marked with red from earlier. The memory of what happened made her feel both angry and absurd. What did Franco actually want from her?

In three years of marriage, he’d only touched her once, and that was when he was drunk. Now, not even two weeks after their last encounter, he’d come to her again. She didn’t believe Franco was the type to get what he could before a divorce. But she had no idea what his real intentions were. She had never been able to figure out what went on in Franco’s mind.

He wouldn’t let her move out, but there was no way she was going to stay here just because he said so.

She’d woken up half an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep, so she decided to take a shower. Wrapping herself in a towel, she left the bathroom, trying to push away the tangle of thoughts in her head.

The guardhouse light was on, cutting through the snowy darkness. As soon as a car started moving, one of the guards stepped outside to block her path. Petty hit the brakes. She recognized him as the one who’d taken her to the hospital before—a big guy, broad-shouldered and intimidating, but he always did as he was told.

He walked up, bowed politely, and motioned for her to turn back.

“Petty, it’s late. Driving at this hour isn’t safe. Please go back inside.”

She didn’t bother answering. With her hands on the wheel, she leaned back and stared right at him through the windshield. If she couldn’t sleep, then she’d just wait him out and see who gave in first.

The guard stood there, unmoving, snow collecting on his shoulders for half an hour. Neither of them budged.