Wrecking Beauty Read online

  She pulled the slip of paper that Stephanie had written her number on out of her Kate Spade clutch, a gift from Owen, and tossed it onto the bar. Another friendship she would miss out on. This wasn’t the first time that Owen had wanted her to skip out on a friend. She’d been here in Nashville for over three years now, and she still didn’t have any close friends except him. He always told her it was because he needed her so much, and didn’t understand why she would need another friend but him. It was just that sometimes she wanted a girlfriend to confide in.

  She supposed she’d always bent to other people’s wishes for her, like transferring to Vanderbilt to make her parents happy. They wanted her to get a degree in Art History, or English Literature, but Addison had always had a head for business, and after she'd met Owen, he agreed to pay way through the school’s MBA program. She was so excited at first, but she found herself feeling more and more uncomfortable with the idea of being so dependent on him.

  She smiled at herself. Owen was right—she was ungrateful. There were people starving in the world, and she was worrying about him paying for her education! She had a beautiful apartment, a successful fiancé, and here she was surrounded by people celebrating their future life together. She didn’t need any more friends. She had Owen.

  She tipped back the rest of her martini and swirled the salty olive around in her mouth. She signaled the bartender for another. Owen appeared from amidst the crowd and waved her over.

  “Come here! I have some people who want to meet you.” He snaked his arm around her waist. He guided her over to a booth that was filled with several guys she didn’t recognize. She slid along the soft leather of the booth, and he followed her in. “Addie, this is Sam, Taylor, Mark, and Beau.”

  Addison smiled, knowing she wouldn’t be likely to remember their names. All of Owen’s American friends tended to wear blue collared shirts and khakis, but at least these friends didn’t have on those white college baseball caps that made it impossible for her to tell them apart. “Hi, nice to meet you guys! You have to tell me all about what Owen was like in high school.”

  “Oh, man, your accent is crazy!”

  “Ha, I know! Isn’t it cute?” Owen laughed, kissing Addison’s cheek. She blushed and giggled.

  “All right, let’s get it out of the way. What words do you want me to say?” She asked, gamely.

  “Say Owen! Say Owen Devlin!” One of them shouted.

  “Owen Devlin.”

  “That sounded normal.”

  “Sorry to disappoint!” Addison laughed.

  “Addison has to put up with this from everyone she meets. Way to be original, guys.” Owen said. One of his friends loudly dropped his beer on the table.

  “I don’t think you want to know what Owen was like in high school!”

  “Taylor, you’re drunk, man.” Owen said, shooting Taylor a dark look.

  “He was a fucking wild man!” Taylor continued. Addison smiled politely. He was indeed slurring his words a bit.

  “I said shut the fuck up.” Owen said, his voice suddenly low and tightly controlled. Addison saw the muscles in his neck tense up.

  “Hey, baby, have you tried the martinis here? They’re so good!” Addison said brightly, rubbing the small of his back with her hand. “I can’t believe you rented out this whole place! Everyone is having so much fun.”

  “Yeah,” one of his other friends chimed in. “And look, your frat brothers could never compare with us, your real friends, but they’re pretty cool.”

  “You know what we need?” said Owen, relaxing. “Shots.” He signaled to a cocktail waitress. “Shots for everyone!” He shouted. The bar erupted in cheers.

  Addison smiled. This was the Owen she loved. The one who just drew people in, who gave so generously to his friends. And he chose her.

  After downing the whiskey shots, Owen and his friends got up to mingle and dance with everyone. Addison sat contentedly in the booth, her head feeling a little light from the drinking. Every so often, someone would walk by and give her a hug and say congratulations, and she would smile back.

  Suddenly, Taylor dropped into the booth across from Addison and leaned over the table toward her.

  “I was being serious.” He grumbled.

  “OK,” Addison murmured. “I’m going to go find Owen.”

  “Wait! You should be careful. You seem like a nice girl. You need to watch out.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Taylor rubbed his face, clearly waffling, and then seeming to make a decision, he pulled himself around the booth until he was sitting next to her.

  “I know Owen seems great, and, look, he can be a great guy, I mean, I’ve been friends with him for years, but I’ve got a younger sister, reminds me of you…”

  “What are you talking about?” Addison repeated, more intently.

  “He’s got a dark side—I don’t know, maybe you’ve seen it. And I mean really fucking dark.”

  “Look, this is really inappropriate.”

  “Just listen! Please. In high school, he dated this girl, Lauren. They were really serious, must’ve dated for a few years.” Addison frowned. Owen had never mentioned her. “During our senior year, she went missing. I know he had maybe pushed her around a little, but I never thought…There was an investigation, but Owen’s family...I mean you know how rich his family is, they’ve got their hands in everything, his dad’s in with the police and the mob.”

  “No, no, this is crazy,” Addison said, but she didn’t move.

  “They questioned him a little, but nothing ever happened with it. They just declared her a missing person, and her family moved out of town. Owen just went on like nothing had happened. Then our whole group took a trip after graduation down to Mexico, and we all went out partying, and Owen brought some girl back to the hotel room. I walked in on them, and the girl had a bloody nose and a split lip, and ran out of the room hysterical. He was just laughing about it, saying it wasn’t the first time, and he should just take care of her like he took care of Lauren. Look, I didn’t want to believe it either, but I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with him. It’s like he’s empty inside, and the person you know is just a character he’s putting on. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know he’s your fiancé, but you should know. I had to warn you. I had to.”

  Addison stared at him. She couldn’t believe it—refused to believe it. “No, no, you’re wrong. You’re wrong about him.” She stood up, and realized she was trembling. Her voice came out of her mouth like it belonged to someone else. “How dare you? How dare you say something so awful about Owen? You’re supposed to be his friend!”

  “Wait, please, I’m just trying to help!” Taylor reached for her hand. Addison saw a couple of people standing near them turn toward them. She snatched her hand away and leaned in to him.

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me. I’m leaving. This is ridiculous. You don’t know Owen, and you don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned and walked quickly out of the bar, trying not to attract any attention. She thought she heard someone call her name as she left, but she just kept going. She hurried the couple dozen blocks back to their apartment, ignoring the pain in her feet from her high heels.

  She rushed through the lobby of her building, thankful Brenda was off, and jammed the key code in to go up to their penthouse apartment. The elevator doors dinged open and she stepped into her apartment. Breathing heavily, she collapsed onto the couch.

  Her mind was racing. How could a friend of Owen’s say such terrible things? Sure, Owen had a temper, but that didn’t mean he could kill someone. Addison glanced down to her own wrists, to the faint bruises beginning to form there from that afternoon. It wasn’t the first time he had left a mark on her.

  She remembered the first time he’d hit her. It wasn’t until they’d been dating for at least eight months. She was head over heels for him. She remembered the night perfectly. They’d gone out to see the new Scarlett Johansson m
ovie, and when Owen had gone to the restroom during the previews, she started talking to a guy sitting a few seats down. They had just been cracking jokes about the lame commercials before the previews, but when Owen came back and saw then chatting, he didn’t talk to her for the rest of the evening.

  Then when they got home, he'd started accusing her of being a flirt, and a slut, and physically backed her into a corner of the living room. She remembered how it looked like the light had gone out of his eyes, like they were completely flat. When she tried to step around him to get away, he pushed her back against the wall and slapped her with the back of his hand. As she crumpled to the floor, he knelt down to her and took her face in his hands, and when she looked up, he looked like himself again.

  He had sworn it would never happen again, but only a month later, it had happened again, and then it seemed to happen more frequently after that. But he was always so sorry afterward, and there was so much about him that she loved, that she was willing to overlook those times.

  But what reason would Taylor have to lie? Maybe they’d had a falling out. Maybe Taylor was malicious, or trying to get back at Owen for something. But she couldn’t ignore the bruises on her wrists, or the sickening feeling that she was developing in her stomach. Well, there was one way to check up on what Taylor had said.

  She swung her legs onto the floor and kicked off her heels. She crossed the living room and went down the hallway to their bedroom. Her Macbook was still sitting on the bed where she’d left it that morning. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opened her computer and logged onto the internet.

  Taylor had said the girl’s name was Lauren, and she knew Owen had grown up in Greenwich. She Googled local Greenwich papers and clicked on the first search result. Under the tab for past issues, she typed in “Lauren, missing, Devlin.” She held her breath as the page populated with the results. There it was, the very first headline: Local Boy Questioned in Girl’s Disappearance. She clicked on the title, and scanned the article:

  Owen Devlin, son of oil magnate Marcus Devlin, has been taken in for questioning by the Greenwich sheriff’s office in connection with the disappearance of Lauren Green, Sheriff Bogrov has confirmed.

  In a press conference on the steps of the police station, Sherriff Bogrov stated that Mr. Devlin is not a suspect in the disappearance, but as the missing girl’s boyfriend, he is being questioned as to her state of mind. When asked by this reporter if they had ruled out foul play, Sherriff Bogrov responded, “These are good kids. Owen Devlin is a high-achieving student, athlete, and president of his senior class. There is no reason to suspect anything sinister. Let’s not ruin a promising kid’s life over some malicious rumors.”

  At this point in his speech, cries broke out from the rear of the small group of press members gathered around the podium. A distraught woman began yelling indecipherably at the Sheriff, who quickly ended the press conference.

  Asked for an interview afterward, the mystery woman identified herself as Martha Green, Lauren Green’s mother, saying “They think they can keep me quiet, but they can’t. Owen Devlin is a monster, just like his father. They’re trying to suggest my baby girl took her own life, but that’s crazy. Even when she was with that [expletive], she was happy. She would never kill herself. Never. I talked to her the morning she disappeared. She was so excited to meet her aunt’s new puppy that night. She had a wonderful life, until she met him.”

  The article continued, but Addison was gripped by the photograph of Lauren Green on the side of the page. The similarities between the two of them were striking: same long dark hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. She shut her computer. Tossing it next to her on the bed, she doubled over onto herself with a sob. It was true. She felt it in her bones. She felt dirty. All the times Owen had touched her, all the times they had made love. Everything was tainted now. She shuddered and stood up, tearing off her clothes as she walked to the bathroom. She had to get clean.

  She turned on the shower, cranking the hot water up until it was steaming. She looked around at the beautiful white bathroom. Everything in marble, the soft bath towels, the gleaming silver appliances. Everything bought with his money, his lies. She stepped into the streaming water and sank down into a crouch, hugging her knees, letting the hot water wash over her.

  How could she have been so blind? She began laughing, a sick grumble that began in her stomach and erupted out of her. She was a cliché! A stupid cliché. She could just picture herself being interviewed on one of those talk shows doing a segment on battered women. “Gee…he had always seemed like such a nice guy…he never really hurt me…just pushed me around a little.” Her laughs turned to sobs. What had she given up for him? How many friends? Opportunities? She wondered if she could ever regain her sense of self. Maybe she could go back home to England for a while, transfer her credits to a university back there.

  She didn’t hear the sound of the elevator doors opening as Owen returned from the bar. He was wasted. The room spun around him. Taylor had been such an asshole tonight. Who did he think he was, bringing up all that bullshit from the past? And then Addison leaving the bar like that, embarrassing him in front of all his friends. He smiled to himself. Well, at least he had gotten the number of that hot cocktail waitress. He could still picture that sweet ass of hers. Not that Addison wasn’t gorgeous—she was probably the hottest girl he’d ever been with, otherwise he wouldn’t be marrying her—but the same girl every night gets boring fast.

  He stumbled into the room, tripping over the ottoman and falling onto the couch. How many times had he told Addison not to leave the ottoman sticking out like that? He didn’t even feel like being in the apartment. Maybe he’d call one of his frat brothers and see if they were still out. He patted his pockets to find his phone. It wasn’t there. Fuck. He must have left it at the bar. He remembered taking it out of his pocket to get the waitress’s number, so he must have left it sitting on the bar.

  He looked around for Addison’s computer to pull up the bar’s number. She must have left it in the bedroom from when she was studying that morning. He did admire her drive, he thought, as he made his way down the hallway. Hell, she got better grades than he had in all their MBA classes. Not that he had to worry—he had a cushy job waiting for him in his father’s business. And once Addison got pregnant, he’d convince her to stay home and take care of the kids. He’d worn her down before.

  He heard the shower running as he hopped on the bed and opened the computer. What the fuck was this? Lauren’s eyes stared out at him, so similar to Addison’s. His fists clenched reflexively. Why was this all coming back now? Why tonight? He had worked hard to put it all behind him. Sure, he’d pushed Addison around a little, but he’d treated her well in general, bought her things, paid for her education, even. What an ungrateful fucking bitch.

  His mind began running uncontrollably. She must know. Maybe one of his friends let something slip at the party? Had he hit her a little too hard one night, so she started digging around? He needed to take care of this one himself. He wouldn’t bring his father in unless he had to.

  He remembered the last time he felt like this, when Lauren tried to break up with him. She had said he was getting too possessive, too controlling. She wanted to see other people. He had flown into a blind rage and beaten her head in with the end of his lacrosse stick. It had been messy, to say the least. He’d panicked and called his father, who’d sent Viktor, his right hand man, to help him clean everything with bleach and ditch the body at a construction site. But he was older now. This time he wouldn’t leave any blood.

  He heard the shower shut off and quickly closed the computer. He folded his hands calmly in his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. Addison walked out of the shower wrapped in a towel. She was sexy, he had to give her that. Her head snapped up when she saw him.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, smiling sweetly and trying not to slur his words.

  “Hey.” She said, frozen just outside the entrance to the bathroom.

&nbs
p; “You left the bar so fast I didn’t get a chance to say goodnight.”

  “Sorry, baby. I was worried I’d had too much to drink and didn’t want to embarrass you,” she murmured, trying to control the rising ball of panic in her throat.

  “That’s silly. I could never be anything but proud of you.” He said. “You know what, let’s take a vacation together, a little weekend away somewhere. I’ll look up somewhere close by, maybe in the mountains,” he added, reaching for her computer.

  “No!” she exclaimed, momentarily losing control. “No,” she repeated more calmly, catching herself. “You’ve already done so much for me. I couldn’t ask you to take me on a vacation when you’ve been so generous already.”

  “You’re right, I have been generous with you, haven’t I?” He grinned at her, like a cat playing with an injured mouse before devouring it. “So one more little vacation couldn’t hurt.” He reached for her computer again and opened it an inch. She quickly strode over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  “Wait, baby…I never got to give you a kiss tonight.” Her skin crawled where she touched him, but she just wanted to distract him long enough so that she could get out of there. She just couldn’t let him see what was on that computer screen. She kicked herself internally—she should have left when she had the chance. She leaned down and kissed him, and Owen slipped his tongue into her mouth. She marveled that just yesterday his kiss felt so wonderful, and now his tongue felt like a serpent.

  “God, you’re sexy,” he said, breaking away from her. “Let me see what’s under that towel.” She could barely keep herself from wincing as he undid her towel and let it fall to the floor. “That’s better.”

  He stood suddenly, picked her up from underneath her armpits, and turned and tossed her onto the bed. He leapt on top of her and before she could move he was kissing her again. It was all she could do not to scream. His hands drifted across her stomach, up across her breasts, and suddenly closed in on her throat. Addison gasped as his grip on her neck tightened. Her eyes flew open, and she realized that he was staring at her, his eyes filled with rage.