“She was calm, angry at me, at you, for what we did to her. She seemed strong, more determined.”

“So she put on a good show, what with the reporter there propping her up.” Alex smirked. “It doesn’t matter; at her core Juliet is the same. Who she is will never change. I know she couldn’t handle going public, no way could she stand up to what would happen next. Her pleasant little world would crumble around her. Her career would go down the toilet. You know she’d never subject her parents to that kind of scandal.”

“You didn’t see her, Alex, you didn’t hear her speak.”

Alex actually laughed. “Juliet knows very well what I’d do if she went public. I’d tell the world she’s a bitter, vengeful woman and this is her revenge for my dumping her. I’d bury her, Kent, blow up her world. Don’t doubt it. I know she doesn’t.” He paused a moment, searched Kent’s face. “All right, tell me exactly what Juliet said to you.”

Was that worry Kent finally heard lurking under the bravado? “She accused me to my face of raping her, Alex, and she asked me why I did it. She said she knew why you’d raped her, for revenge, to humiliate her. Did you want her to remember, Alex? Did you lighten the roofie so you’d be able to look at her and smile later, knowing she wouldn’t say a word?”

Alex saluted him with his glass. “You have me there. Juliet was always about herself—just listen to me play, listen to all the people applaud me and worship me.” He took another sip of whiskey, shook his head. “You want the truth about Juliet? I thought she was a beautiful cow, exquisite to look at, like a beautiful painting to be admired, nothing more, but boring to be with, and as uptight as her mother. She and that ridiculous piano she polished herself every frigging day. What we did to her—it served its purpose. Don’t try to tell me now you didn’t want her, that you didn’t enjoy that gorgeous body. You had her two times.”

Kent said nothing.