Kat grimaced. “I don’t even want to think about it.” She stiffened. “There are photos of you sleeping in our bed.”
My skin crawled. “What do we do?”
Harold shook his head. “Your mom is on her way.”
“What are you? The prep team?” I would have laughed, but this wasn’t funny. This was my life. Someone was forcing their way into my life.
“Who does this?” I hopped out of my seat.
Harold squirmed in his chair.
I wandered to the window and traced the outline of Kat’s smudged face from last night. “Does this person have any decency? Scruples? Following me, breaking into our home. What’s next? Kidnapping? Being stashed in some basement, never to be seen again?” Neither of them spoke.
I rested my forehead on the cool glass and stared down at the people and cars twenty floors below. I pretended I was Gulliver, trapped in an unknown and confusing land. I squashed everyone down below between my forefinger and thumb, feeling somewhat more in control.
“I think we’ve lost her,” Kat told Harold.
“Seems to be the case.” Harold sounded forlorn.
A knock sounded on the hotel door. All of us eyed each other.
Harold stood. “I’ll get it.” He cautiously peeked through the glass and whispered, “It’s your mom.”
“Let me in, Harold,” Mom barked from the other side.
She strolled in, took in the chaos of the room, and smiled. “My, my, my. Good thing your stalker doesn’t have photos of this… yet.” She waved to the destroyed room. Our dresses and underthings tossed about. The toppled chair by the window. The vase and flowers spilled on the carpet.
Shit, did the waiter have a hidden camera on him? Was he the stalker? Or perhaps just on the stalker’s payroll? Did stalkers hire freelancers?
“How’d you find us?” I asked.
“I made the reservation, remember?” She set her purse down on an end table. “If we don’t play this right, the whole world will soon know your every move. The letter demands a meeting or all of the photos will be leaked—the racy ones.”
“It said that?” I blinked.
Both Kat and Harold nodded.
“Fuck!” I squinted down at the street again. Was that a crowd by the entrance, waiting for us to leave? Were we too late?
“If these photos get out, you’ll be super famous, and not for getting beamed in the head by a baseball.”
Would no one forget about that damn ball?
Shit! Would no one forget about this?
“You don’t really think the person will go public with the photos, do you? I mean, it has to be a bluff, right? Do stalkers like to share?”
Mom exhaled. “I have no idea. We need to prepare for all contingencies.”
Contingencies. My life now boiled down to contingency plans because some psycho had set their sights on me. I perched on the edge of the couch and held my arms tightly against my body. “So now what?”
“Get dressed.” She pointed to Kat and me. “You’ve had your fun. Time to take care of this. Barbara’s waiting in the garage in Roger’s Bentley.”
“Why’d she bring Roger’s Bentley?”
The car was his baby, which he’d only ever taken out on Sunday drives, not for busting out his niece from whatever the fuck I was embroiled in; however, he might have, if he were still alive.
“Seemed like the perfect car for this situation. Goodness knows it got Roger out of a few scrapes.”
I huffed. Right now, I didn’t want any comparisons to my uncle and the seedy side of his life I’d ignored for years.
“Don’t start with me. I’m not the one teetering on the brink of unfathomable embarrassment. The pictures are explicit, but what if the person has a video of you two?” Mom smiled. Only my mother. She was truly enjoying the situation.
I smothered my ears. “Don’t say that.”
Kat guided me by the arm toward the bathroom. “We’ll be out in a moment,” she said over her shoulder.
Mom snapped her fingers. “Harold, start tossing their stuff in that shopping bag.”
From the confines of the bathroom, the sounds of Harold and Mom rustling through the room, sweeping things into a bag, filled me with guilt. Here I was, a woman in her thirties, being rescued by her mommy. I stepped outside for a pair of jeans right as Harold plucked Kat’s crotchless panties up off the floor. We locked eyes, and then I retreated behind the door once again.
“Who’s doing this?” Kat collapsed against the bathroom counter and placed her hands on my shoulders. “You okay?”
“I’m stunned. A blackmailing stalker? Really? This doesn’t happen to people like me. Roger—yes. Even my mom, who has novels in every airport bookstore, but I’m Marilyn Munster.”
“What?”
“Marilyn Munster—the only normal one in The Munsters.” My voice cracked.
Kat shook her head and disrobed.
I’d yet to make a move toward getting dressed. It was as if I were frozen in ice and couldn’t move.
“Hey! Are you two having sex again? Get moving!” Mom shouted from the other side of the door.
“She’s loving this, isn’t she?” I slipped into my jeans.
“Nell Tisdale lives for moments like this.” Kat hiked up a pencil skirt.
“What? Blackmail?” I yanked a T-shirt over my head and raked my hair into a clumsy ponytail.
“Protecting her only child. Don’t ever mess with a momma bear.” In one motion, Kat swiped her makeup into an overnight bag we’d purchased yesterday in preparation for weekend trips in Europe. “Let’s roll.”
I managed a small smile. “You’re enjoying these spy shenanigans, aren’t you?”
“Kinda.”
Harold and Mom waited by the door. Harold had his eye glued to the peephole. Mom leaned against the doorjamb, looking slightly amused by his antics, which were straight out of one of his graphic novels.
“Ready?” She straightened.
Harold’s hand shot up. “Someone’s out there,” he whispered.
Mom whispered back, “I know. He’s with us.”
“Really? He’s huge.” Harold stared at my mom as if she were the head of the CIA.
“Did we get everything?” Mom asked.
Harold’s pale brown eyes scoped the room. “Wait.” He trotted toward the bed and reached for something under the covers.
My mind flashed to the object, and I shouted, “Don’t touch that!”
Too late. Harold turned around with a leather strap-on dangling from one finger, the six-inch dick twitching in the air.
I covered my mouth while Mom broke into hysterics.
Harold wore the oddest expression. Was he disgusted? Turned on? Confused?
Kat grabbed it from him and shoved it into her purse. Then, for some inexplicable reason, she turned to my mother, the woman who’d given birth to me, and confessed, “I surprised Cori last night.”
“I’m sure you did.” Mom chortled.
“Seriously, is this happening?” I crumpled against the wall.
“Breathe.” Kat rubbed my arm.
Mom tried to wipe the smile off her face. “You ready?”
“Just get me out of this,” I mumbled.
In the hall, I shook hands with Floyd, a man Roger had employed from time to time, and tried to act normal. He was a PI, bodyguard, and chauffeur all rolled into one.
“Let’s hit the road.” Floyd motioned for us to go ahead.
“Not that way.” Mom rolled her eyes. “The service elevator. Such an amateur.” She tsked. “Who knows where your stalker is?”
“How’d you get access to the service elevator?” I asked over my shoulder.
Floyd and Mom remained silent. My gut said this wasn’t Floyd’s first time breaking a client out of this posh hotel. Had Roger used the service elevator?
In the garage, Barbara had the Bentley right next to the door. I hoped my
aunt hadn’t waited in this exact spot for her husband.
The four of us squeezed into the back seat, and Floyd rode shotgun.
Barbara adjusted the rearview mirror to peer into the back seat. “Roger would have loved this.” Her eyes glistened with happy nostalgia, eradicating my earlier hope.
Dammit, Roger! The shit he’d put her through. How was he such a wonderful uncle and a completely crappy and selfish husband? I would never understand that completely.
“Now get on the floor, just in case.” She gestured to me. “And, Kat, stay out of sight.”
I rolled my eyes, but complied. Kat, who was several inches shorter than I was, scrunched down in the back seat mostly out of view. Mom placed a floppy old lady hat on Kat’s head and Jackie-O sunglasses over her eyes. Seriously, had they been waiting to do this all their lives?
“Love the new look,” I said.
Kat fluffed her voluminous dark hair, which poured out of the hat like a chocolate waterfall.
“I don’t know about you, but I want to track down the son of a bitch who broke into our home,” I said.
Mom nodded to Floyd, who returned the gesture. He about-faced and was on his phone, rattling off directions like a marine sergeant.
“And then what?” Kat asked.
“Sue the shit out of the asshole. After I pummel the crap out of him.”
Kat grimaced.
“He broke into our home while we were sleeping,” I squawked.
“Why do you think it’s a man?” Mom asked.
“Good question. But I don’t have any issues kicking a woman’s ass either. Not at the moment.”
“Whoa! Before you channel Clint Eastwood, take a step back. Like I said earlier, we have to play this just right. That’s why Floyd’s here. No matter what, we want to keep this out of the press and off the Web. Otherwise, this will dog you the rest of your life.”
“At the moment, I’m more concerned about the crazed person who wants me as a play toy.”
“I get that; I do. But think about everyone involved. Who knows what this person will say or do?” Mom held my eyes. “We don’t know how many photos the person has, but we’ve seen a preview, and it’s clear this person has been able to blend in seamlessly for months, if not years.”
“So what?” I sat up to the best of my ability on the floor of the car and leaned against the door. Barbara made a sharp turn, and I had to brace myself with both hands. “You want to dangle me in front of this creep in the hope of catching the bastard?”
“Floyd is going to track down the person and put a stop to this madness.”
“You mean?” I made a gun with my fingers.
Mom burst out laughing. “God, no. Once we know who we’re dealing with, we’ll loop in the authorities.”
“Why aren’t we looping in the authorities now? This person broke into my home and has photos of me sleeping in my bed next to Kat, not to mention photos of intimate moments. Every aspect of my life has been invaded.” I tossed both hands in the air, immediately regretting it when Barb made another turn and my head bumped into Kat’s knees.
“Floyd is back-channeling. We want to keep this off the radar, if possible. If all of this is released so closely to the news breaking about Roger, who knows how the public will react. They might not see you as a victim. Not completely. We need to control the narrative—you’re a victim, not a sex-crazed addict, even though all the acts are with your wife. However, the photo of you dancing with Inez suggests you may not be completely innocent, and the revelations about Roger are still fresh in people’s minds. Furthermore, there are segments in society who think all homosexuals are deviants. We need to get in front of that narrative and get the public on your side.” She turned to Harold. “You saved the day by retrieving that strap-on. We didn’t need housekeeping finding that.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I need to shower,” Kat announced as soon as we arrived at my mother’s house.
I nodded.
“Harold picked up some clothes for you two. Your bags are in Cori’s room.” Mom patted Kat’s back.
Barbara and Floyd disappeared into the office. Dad was nowhere in sight, and Harold had slipped off, probably to the library, which was his refuge in good times and bad.
Mom waved to the barstool in the kitchen. “Sit.”
I did.
“Want anything to eat? French toast?”
I shook my head. “No thanks. I ate earlier.” I leaned on the kitchen countertop, propping my head up with my palm. Mom stood on the other side, igniting a burner for the teakettle. “I’m worried.”
“I’m sure you are. This is beyond creepy,” she said with her back to me.
“That’s an understatement. I mean, I may be on camera now.”
Mom fluffed her hair.
“Seriously, Mom.”
“Doesn’t hurt to look nice.” She flipped around to avoid my glare.
I sighed. “It’s not just the stalker. I mean, that’s a huge problem, but Kat and I have been through so much. And now the nude photos of Kat, of me. What if Kat disappears—?”
“Don’t even think it.” Mom cleaved the air with her hand, her back still turned. “That’s not how you were raised.”
“Shit. You never prepped me for this. Someone breaking into my house, snapping photos of private things, threatening to share it with the world unless I become—what? A sex slave?” I covered my face with both hands. “Why is this happening? I’m not a bad person, and Kat doesn’t deserve this. Not one bit. She’s suffered so much, and now this is hanging over our heads. Will we ever feel safe again in our own home?”
Mom must have walked around the island, because her hand was stroking my back. “We’ll protect both of you. Nothing will happen to you or Kat.”
I sat up. “You’re right. I need to focus on Kat. Protecting her at all costs. Who knows what this crazy person is capable of?”
“And I’ll protect you,” Kat said, interrupting our conversation.
I turned to her. She was dressed in my dingy Harvard sweatpants and T-shirt. “Hi, beautiful.” I smiled.
Mom quietly cleared out.
“Come here.” I opened my arms and held her. “We’ll get through this together.”
She sniffled. “I know. But it still sucks.”
I drew back and gazed into her eyes. “It does, but there’s no one else I would want to go through this with. And let’s keep the big picture in mind. Soon, we’ll be in London.” I swiped a stray wet strand of dark hair off her cheek. “A new chapter in our lives, Kit Kat.”
Once I pulverize this stalking asshole.
***
“We received a video from Cori’s stalker. The person makes one demand.” Floyd sat on the couch in his impressive office overlooking Boston Common, his legs wide open and a hand on each knee. He and his crew had been monitoring my email, social media, and phone.
Harold hummed the James Bond theme song.
“What’s the demand?” Mom asked, ignoring Harold’s attempt to lighten the mood.
“I think you need to see it.” Floyd fiddled with the laptop on the table to his side.
Dad, Barbara, Kat, Harold, and Mom all swarmed the screen. I stood to the side, not wanting to see but unable to look away.
A figure in a black hoodie with a pixelated face spoke, obviously using a device to distort the voice—unless my stalker was a rogue robot.
“Hello, Cori.” The idiot had the balls to wave like we were long-lost friends. Were we? “I know you probably have some questions, and the only way forward is for us to meet. Please know I don’t mean you any harm…” A nervous giggle choked the rest of the thought. The person stiffened. “Let’s meet. Talk. Get to know each other.”
“No way,” I muttered under my breath.
“Once I explain, I know you’ll see things the way I do. Fate has kept us apart—and Kat.”
Harold made a fist and smashed it into h
is other palm.
“I’ll kill you, ya fucker.” I made a gun with my fingers.
Mom placed a hand on my shoulder. Floyd had stopped the video, and the look on his face questioned whether we could stomach the rest. All heads nodded.
“Kat isn’t the person for you, but you can’t see that. You and I have chemistry that can’t be denied. I didn’t realize it until recently. Before, I was content watching from afar, but now… I know we were meant to be more. I can’t walk away. And I won’t let you slip through my fingers. Not again.”
Harold flashed two middle fingers, jabbing them at the hooded individual on the screen.
“I want us to meet. Privately. If you don’t agree, you won’t like the consequences. I know you value your privacy—we all do. And I know you don’t want people thinking you’re anything like Roger. I don’t want to release the photos, but if you don’t agree to meet, I will. I’ll be in touch in twenty-four hours. What will you decide, Cori? Us? Or the end?” The screen went black.
“What do you think they mean by the end?” Barbara spun around to Floyd.
“Slip through my fingers? Do I know this person? Someone from my past?”
Floyd motioned for all of us to take a seat. “We don’t have a lot of time. Cori, did you encounter anyone recently or bump into someone you hadn’t seen in ages and share a moment, no matter how small?”
“A moment?” I rubbed the top of my head. “I told off Kat’s dad.”
“You told off Phineas?” Mom’s jaw fell.
I shrugged.
“You’re missing a key point. The person wants to be with you and I seriously doubt my father has been harboring romantic feelings about you.” Kat mimed crossing his name off the list. “Think, Cori.”
“I—” I jolted out of my chair. “I don’t really meet a lot of people. The only people I associate with, besides the people in this room, are Sam and Lucy—and I’m 110 percent positive it isn’t one of them.”
“What about the book event?” Barbara prodded.
I stopped pacing. “I bumped into Vanessa there.”
Floyd raised an eyebrow.
“An old girlfriend. She lives in New York now.” I massaged my eyes. “She was in town for Mother’s Day and popped into the store to buy a gift. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”
Confessions From the Dark Page 22