The Devil Wears Black by L.J. Shen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MADDIE

September 25, 2008

Dear Maddie,

Today I found cigarettes in your backpack. Again. We had an argument. It was bad. You said it was a mistake. It’s not a mistake if you continue doing it. You must have a reason to repeat the same action over and over again.

Whether you want to rebel or get distracted or you simply got addicted.

It’s like the corpse flower that smells like rotten meat. It smells like this because it is rare and vulnerable, not by chance.

Every decision you make has a reason. Think about it.

Love,

Mom. x

This time, I didn’t lie to myself.

Didn’t fight it or deny it. It had a name. Mom had said it best in a letter years ago, when I’d tried smoking when I was going on fifteen. It was an addiction.

When I saw Chase’s name on my caller ID, I picked it up on the first ring. When he invited me to the ranch, ready to launch into a convincing speech, I cut off his arsenal of arguments and promises and accepted immediately. The carnal need to be there for him nearly paralyzed me. I knew, with certainty that bubbled in my veins, that it didn’t make me Martyr Maddie.

It made me someone who cared deeply for Chase and didn’t want to see him fail.

Layla was going to have a field day when she found out I was still playing with the devil. But knowing what I knew about Julian, about Amber, I felt responsible for Chase where they were concerned. Besides, our lie to his family was so big at this point it loomed over everything, my conscience included. It was a rolling snowball, growing larger each time it spun, swallowing objects and feelings and victims—Ethan, Katie, Clementine—as it descended an endless mountain of dishonesties. Even though I knew the snowball was going to hit something and pop at any minute, I couldn’t stop it. Coming clean didn’t seem like an option anymore. I accepted this was something Chase would have to deal with once he lost his father.

We arrived at the Lake George ranch early Friday evening.

The nineteenth-century stone building sprawled on a good portion of the ten-thousand-acre land the Blacks owned. The entire second floor was bursting with green double-doored balconies. Ivy curled up the building, the backdrop of the lake making the property one of the most magical things I’d ever witnessed with my eyes. The sun sank lazily toward the horizon, the sky surging with various shades of gold and pink.

I must’ve sucked in a breath when Chase helped me with my suitcases, because he glanced over his shoulder and chuckled. “This one’s Dad’s favorite. The Hamptons is Mom’s playground.”

“Which one’s yours?” I asked, not fully realizing what I was insinuating.

He stopped walking, shooting me a charged frown. “You.”

He dropped my bags. There was a moment when I thought he was going to wrap his arms around me and kiss me. I wanted him to do that. Badly. But he just shook his head, getting rid of whatever it was he was thinking about.

“Don’t let me seduce you,” he growled.

“Okay.” We continued walking. “Why?”

“Because once I have you again, it will be impossible for me to let go. To let you be. To respect your decision.”

He hoisted my duffel bag over my spinner suitcase, taking my hand in his free one. The charade was back in full force.

We made it to the landing. Voices seeped from the dining room. Laughing, talking, whispering. Utensils clinked. Wineglasses too. We frowned at each other.

“Julian,” Chase clipped, his jaw tightening. “Must’ve told everyone we were running late and to start eating. Douche.”

“It’s time you put him in his place.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He glowered at me. “I let him off the hook because our parents, sister, and Clementine shouldn’t suffer through what I want to put him through.”

We made our way into the dining room, leaving the suitcases on the landing. The long table was fully hidden under platters and dishes. Fresh rolls, pitchers of sweating homemade iced teas, and bottles of wine were scattered on the pristine white tablecloth. The scent of smoked meat and seasoned vegetables laced the air. Saliva coated my mouth.

“Oh goodness, please tell us that story again. I cannot believe Clemmy said that!” Lori gushed.

“Start from when she walked in.” Amber’s tone was buttery, different. “When she saw the empty fish tank.”

“All right, all right. I’ll tell it again.” I heard Ethan laugh.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back it up. Ethan?

I didn’t have the privilege to be able to turn around and run for my life. I was already halfway inside the dining room when it registered. Chase was a step ahead of me, shielding me with his broad body, my hand still clasped in his. I felt the floor soften beneath my sandals, threatening to open its jaw and swallow me whole. My eyes connected with Ethan’s from across the table. Snakes danced in the pit of my stomach, sinking their venomous teeth into my insides.

He was there, sandwiched between Clementine and Amber, holding a glass of white wine to his mouth, wearing a Puppy Dog Pals tie.

Looking back.

Looking furious.

I browsed through my memories, replaying our latest communication. Where we’d left things off. We spoke on the phone this week but made no plans to meet up. Things had reached the point of fizzling out, and I thought both of us were okay with that. Ethan said he’d been invited somewhere this weekend. I said I had plans too. We’d both been cryptic. Now I knew why.

Ethan was always on the margins of my story. A secondary character I’d gone running to whenever I’d pushed Chase away. In trying to please him, to cater to him, to love him, I’d given him false hope. In trying to spare his feelings, I’d done something cruel to him. Martyr Maddie, I now understood, had a dark side.

The slow, spreading grin on Ethan’s face told me he wasn’t caught off guard as I was. He’d known. It was a setup. My remorse morphed into fury. I straightened my spine, tilting my head up.

I didn’t know when I’d stopped holding Chase’s hand. When my fingers clenched into fists, my nails dug into my skin.

“Well, this is awkward. Didn’t you say you two know each other?” Julian whistled low, taking a sip of his iced tea. His voice was thick with excitement. It clawed at my skin. “Dr. Goodman is Clementine’s pediatrician. We thought it’d be nice to invite him over to enjoy the ranch on a rare weekend off,” he pointed out when Chase threw him a what-the-hell look.

“Not awkward at all. As I mentioned before, I know Ethan and enjoy his company. We’re friends.” I smiled, leaning down to kiss Ronan’s pale cheek. Lori and Katie stood and hugged me. I bypassed a sitting Amber and Julian, settling for a pat on each of their shoulders. I kissed Clemmy’s head, then pressed a kiss to Ethan’s cheek.

“What a nice surprise,” he whispered as my lips brushed his closely shaved skin. His voice was paper dry.

“Ethan . . . ,” I breathed. “Why?”

“Madison, have a seat.” Chase stood across from Ethan, his death stare making Ethan flinch. I walked over to him, feeling my shoulders slump. He pushed my seat back. We began piling food onto our plates. Ethan retold the story of how Clementine had dropped take-out sashimi bits into an empty fish tank in his office on her latest visit, drawing laughs from the table.

I stiffly shoved one forkful of food after another into my mouth. I couldn’t taste anything. I wasn’t sure if I was more worried about Chase’s family finding out we weren’t together or about the conversation I would have with Ethan afterward. Chase snaked a hand between us and squeezed my hand under the table. Nuclear currents ran through my spine.

“Can I just back it up a little?” Julian rubbed at his chin, chuckling good-naturedly. “I’m trying to figure something out. Maddie said you and she are friends, Dr. Goodman. But I thought Clemmy said she saw you two hugging real long and real hard—‘like couples in the movies,’ I believe were her exact words—at your clinic a few weeks ago. Didn’t you, Clemmy?” He turned to his daughter, then back to me. “So which is it? Are you friends, or are you something more?”

Clementine looked down, blushing.

“As I said,” I gritted out, not giving Ethan a chance to answer, “I am with Chase.”

“My bad, Maddie.” Julian lifted his palms in surrender, taking a moment to make sure everybody was thinking about that time Clementine had told them about me kissing Ethan. “I just thought . . . well, this is silly, anyway, but I thought maybe something happened. I saw you at work the other day. You weren’t wearing your engagement ring,” Julian remarked as he cut his roasted chicken into tiny, meticulous pieces. “Yet here you are, with your engagement ring.”

He was becoming more and more blunt, presenting his elaborate case against us. I knew I had to get out of it myself. If Chase intervened, it’d look like another bickering match between him and Julian, and like I was making excuses for him. I shrugged it off. “The ring is very expensive. I don’t want to lose it or have someone cut my finger off in a dark alley for the piece of jewelry.”

“Smart,” Katie pointed out, popping a blueberry into her mouth. “Cutting off fingers with rings is a thing. Heard about it in a true-crime podcast.”

“Are your friends happy about the engagement?” Amber pressed, a fake smile marring her lip-glossed mouth. “I should think they’re planning one hell of a bachelorette party.”

“My close friends are excited, yes. We’re going to celebrate low key. I haven’t told my colleagues yet, though. You know, life is not about flaunting expensive rings and marrying your way up the tax bracket.”

Dang, dumping Martyr Maddie for a while was fun.

Amber winced. “I can see how that’d be awkward. I mean, Black & Co. and Croquis are sister companies. I wonder if people think you slept your way to the top.”

“Oh, I’ve had this job since long before I met Chase. Marrying into money is not an Olympic sport for me.” I smiled back. Chase pretended to cough to stifle a laugh. Lori polished off her glass of wine.

“Clementine, excuse yourself,” Amber barked, still staring at me. Ronan snapped his fingers, and a waiter appeared, ushering Clementine to the kitchen to sample the dessert. The dining room was now a full-blown war zone. The gloves were off.

“Interesting.” Julian tapped his chin.

“The things you find interesting amaze me. Is that what happens when you live a sexless, loveless life?” Chase asked dryly. Lori gasped. Ethan and Katie looked among all of us like we were crazy.

“Redirect that conversation,” Ronan groaned. He looked exhausted, and suddenly, I understood why Chase hadn’t been fighting back against Julian. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He knew it’d drain his father. Chase had been trying not to upset Ronan all throughout our fake engagement. He’d tried to pretend he was taking Julian’s undermining behavior and petty comments in stride. But he wasn’t. Julian got under Chase’s skin, and today, Chase had finally snapped.

“You’re right, Ronan. We should be talking about other things. Ethan, you’re such a catch.” Amber reached to him, rubbing his arm. Subtle as a tank. “Young, handsome, a pediatrician. I have so many single friends who would love an introduction. Are you seeing anyone?”

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting to mine. “Actually . . .”

What is he doing?

The horror in my face must’ve been visible, because Ethan backpedaled on whatever point he was trying to make. “Not exclusively, no.”

Martyr Maddie, always doing the right thing. Even if it’s dating a guy just to make him feel better,Layla’s voice singsonged in my head. But it wasn’t just that. I was desperate to fall in love with Ethan so I wouldn’t get hurt, and I’d ended up hurting him in the process.

There was silence, punctuated by good old Lori. “Ethan told me he ran the half marathon too, Katie.”

Katie lifted her head from her plate, her eyes zeroing in on Ethan. “Really? Who sponsored you?”

“Doctors for Africa. What number were you?” Ethan’s face opened up. So much light poured into his expression. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so . . . present.

“Nine two two three. Yellow shirt. You?”

“Three five two seven. Pink.”

“Phew, good thing we didn’t run together. We’d look like an ice cream cone next to each other.” Katie wiped invisible sweat from her forehead. They held each other’s gaze, a thread of something flirtatious entwining them into the same moment. Ethan was the first to look back at his plate, stabbing a piece of glazed potato with his fork.

“Maybe next time we won’t get so lucky,” Ethan said.

Or maybe you will,I thought. Ethan and Katie looked so easy talking to each other.

“So. Just to make sure we’re all on the same page. Ethan and Maddie are just friends?” Julian filled my wineglass to the brim. Was he trying to get me drunk? Probably, based on my disastrous visit to his family’s Hamptons home.

“Is that concept foreign to you?” Chase sat back, spearing his cousin with a dark glare. My hand was still in his under the table. “Or are you simply obsessed with my fiancée in general?”

“Fiancée. That’s a bold statement,” Amber muttered into her wineglass.

“Are we going to open the subject of bold here, at the table, Lady Macbeth?” Chase inquired dryly. Amber nearly spat her wine out. I put a hand to Chase’s arm. His muscles flexed under my fingertips. He was a beast restrained.

“I can hold my own,” I whispered.

“Don’t I know it. I’m still hoping to get my balls back for Christmas.” Chase sighed, kissing my temple. “Sorry.”

It was a lie, of course, but one I appreciated, even if it was a part of an elaborate Chase act.

“I just want you boys to get along.” Lori sighed, looking between Chase and Julian. “I know emotions have been running high, but nothing is worth your friendship. Blood is thicker than water.”

“We don’t have the same blood running through our veins,” Julian spat bitterly. “Maybe that’s my problem.”

“Julian,” Ronan scolded. “Stop that.”

“Chase is obviously the favorite child,” Julian persisted. He sounded like a five-year-old.

“No, you’re obviously still a child,” Chase bit back. “Crucifying my fiancée and trying to unveil imaginary mishaps on my behalf. It is real, and it is happening, and you can’t do anything to stop it, no matter how fucking hard you try. No matter what you do. I will marry her.” Chase stopped, his eyes gliding from Julian to Ethan, and finished off, “Julian.”

But it didn’t seem like his words were directed at Julian anymore. Not at all.

“Excuse me.”

A chair scraped, and I turned my attention from Chase’s thunderous face. Ethan galloped outside after throwing his napkin over his plate.

I followed him. I didn’t know why. Maybe because Chase’s behavior was uncalled for. Because he’d directed his anger at Ethan, when really, Julian was the person he was supposed to attack here.

“Ethan, wait!”

He got into the bathroom, about to slam the door in my face. I pushed my foot through the crack just as the door flew shut. I let out a yelp, feeling my skin bruising.

“Oh crap.” Ethan opened the door, wincing as he looked down at my sandaled foot. “Are you all right?”

“Please.” I stood on the other side of the door, foot still stuck between us to prevent him from shutting the door in my face. “Let me in.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do here for weeks,” he said quietly. “And you hurt me.”

“I know,” I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach with guilt. Martyr Maddie kicked in again. True, we’d both agreed it was casual, but he’d catered to me. To my situation. In a lot of ways, we were too much alike. Nonconfrontational at all costs. “I’m so sorry,” I croaked. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You’re sorry?” Ethan reared his head back, the anguish in his face tearing me apart.

“Yes, of course I am,” I said desperately. This was a good time to spit out the truth. That I couldn’t be with him, and it had nothing to do with Chase at all. Ethan was Prince Charming, but in someone else’s story. Not mine. He wasn’t the one I went to sleep thinking about.

He isn’t the one who keeps me awake in the first place.

“Do you regret it?” Ethan shifted from one foot to the other. I nodded. I did. I regretted hurting him.

I regretted not ending it sooner, when I’d known we had no future.

I did not regret kissing Chase. And that was a problem.

I opened my mouth to say something more, but Ethan beat me to it, pressing his lips against mine on the threshold to the bathroom. My arms flailed behind my body, like they were sewn artificially to my shoulders. It wasn’t the first time I’d been kissed by Ethan, but this time, it felt especially wrong. I had to stop this. I started leaning back, breaking away from the kiss, my mouth ashen.

“You must have what they call an open relationship, if that’s your fiancée’s idea of ‘good friends.’” I heard Julian’s entertained voice from my right. I jerked back, spinning to find Julian and Chase.

Julian smiled smugly, his arms crossed over his chest. Chase . . . Chase didn’t look at me at all. He stared at Ethan like he was about to hammer him to the ground, then stomp on his body until he set it on fire. His jaw worked. His eyes were two shades darker than their usual icy blue gray.

“What a mess.” Julian shook his head, chuckling.

“Step away from her,” Chase told Ethan. Julian didn’t even register in his universe. I wasn’t sure he’d heard him at all. Ethan did as he was told but looked between us, waiting for me to scold Chase for telling him what to do. I usually did. Chase was the only person I somehow found myself always arguing with.

Chase took a step forward. He was toe to toe with Ethan now, looming over him with his height and frame and Chaseness. My chest tightened. I realized I was scared.

“Whatever you’re about to do,” Ethan said, his voice steady but quiet enough that Julian couldn’t hear him, “I wouldn’t do it if I were you. We both know this story is far from over. The last chapter hasn’t been written yet.”

That was what broke me. The truth of his words. How they made Chase take a step back like he’d been hit. I’d never seen him like this. So . . . emotionally exposed.

“Right. I think we have much to discuss, brousin.” Julian clapped Chase’s back. “A quiet word in the library? It is our favorite place.”

I watched their backs as they walked away. How Chase was shrinking while Julian swelled and filled more of the hallway.

I looked on as I realized, for the first time, that I’d killed something with kindness.

Namely, my heart.