Page 59 of Off-Limits Bad Boy
When the doors slide open again, we're met with a quiet hallway that seems to stretch on forever. Each step toward room 306 feels harder and harder, like trudging through thick, sticky mud.
We stop before the door marked with delicate gold numbers, and Kade's hand hovers in the air, millimeters from the wood. His eyes meet mine. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I swallow the lump in my throat and nod, the comfort that this whole situation might be over in a few moments flooding me. “Maybe this will be the end of the whole thing,” I say.
Kade’s knuckles tap on the door. The sound seems to echo in the empty space between us, and for a heartbeat, I worry she’s not going to answer. Or maybe we missed her and a stranger will open the door. What if we never get answers?
The door swings open and there she is.
Stella stands before us, a vision in a simple dress that clings to her like a second skin. Her red hair cascades down around her shoulders, framing her pretty face as her wide, startled, blue eyes bounce from Kade to me and back again. And for a moment, nobody moves, nobody breathes.
“Kade... Emma,” she says, her voice betraying nothing but shock.
Stella's face transforms, her surprise melting into composure. “What can I do for you?” she asks, then studies Kade. “I didn’t think you’d come, and I never even considered that you’d bring Emma.” She says the words with the poise of an actress taking center stage.
“Come in,” she says, opening the door wider and moving into the room. She settles on a seat, motioning us to the couch. My gaze darts around, searching for clues, but it's disappointingly ordinary—neat, impersonal, a typical, sterile, hotel room with no soul.
“Why, Stella?” Kade's voice gives away the absolute betrayal he’s feeling. His jaw ripples as if he’s gritting and relaxing his teeth. “Why send those photos? Why the room card?”
“What?” Stella's brows knit together, her confusion seeming genuine. If she's lying, she deserves an award. “I didn't send you photos or a key card. Why would I do that?”
My breath catches as one little detail slips through; she doesn't know the evidence was sent to me. Doubt that she’s responsible creeps in, and I glance at Kade, trying to see if he caught her words.
She lets out a strained laugh. “I hate the thought of you with someone else, Kade, but I didn't do whatever it is you're accusing me of.”
Kade's dark eyes lock with mine, the questions in them echoing my own turmoil. He lifts his eyebrows as he studies me, saying without words that he doesn't think she’s responsible, and I agree.
“Who else would play these sick games?” I reach into my purse and pull out the manila envelope. Offering her the whole thing, she takes it with hesitation. Then she opens the flap and pulls out the images. The hollow at the base of her throat bottoms out, then she looks at me. “This was an innocent hug, I swear. He’d just told me there was no hope for a future between us and I asked for a hug.”
The hurried, almost panicked way she says the words leave no doubt in my mind. Not only was the hug innocent, but she’s not the one trying to hurt us with this info.
“Thank you,” I whisper around a lump in my throat.
“When you find out who’s doing this, let me know.” Stella sounds angry. “I don’t like being used like this, and I’m not a homewrecker.” I can feel the fury radiating off her, and her hands tremble as she pushes the images back into the envelope.
We thank her, and as we leave the room, I feel relieved... and even more concerned. If not Stella, then who?
Chapter Twenty-four
Kade
I grip the steering wheel, my mind racing as Emma sits silently beside me. I glance at her, trying to read her thoughts in her features. She’s looking out the window, her mind clearly elsewhere. No doubt trying to solve this crazy, life-ruining riddle.
“Who would do something like this?” She sounds almost angry as she brings both fists down on her knees with enough force that I flinch.
“Someone who wants us to split,” I say, my brain running down avenues and chasing ideas. We’re not even driving; we’re just sitting in my car, still parked outside the hotel.
Stella wouldn't expect me to run back if she played dirty. I know that for a fact. She’s not stupid, and that would be a very stupid move. Besides, we already know it wasn’t her - she thought I was saying she’d sent the envelope to me, and she was quick to defend me about the hug. Why would she do that if she wanted us to split?
Emma turns, her gaze locking onto mine, searching for an answer I'm not sure I have. “What do you think?” she asks.
And things begin to fit in place as I step back and think about who has something to gain from this whole situation. “Think about it,” I say, letting go of the wheel and turning to face her. “If you believed I'd cheated, where would you go?”
Her expression shifts to confusion. “My sister?”
I shake my head. “No, your best friend.”
Her lips part and she sucks in a deep, stunned breath. “Well, that certainly makes more sense than...” She gestures to the hotel, and I nod in agreement. “But we’re not friends anymore.”