by T Gephart
It had killed me to leave her in my bed. Her eyes barely opened as I kissed her goodbye, nodding her head as I promised I would see her soon. Then I had gotten into my car and driven to Joey’s. He knew what I was doing and also knew why, and it had been his idea to ride shotgun. It was more than I’d be willing to ask, but in the end I didn’t need to, and for that I honestly loved the guy.
Angie and Rus were aware of the situation. I’d given them both the rundown as well as making it clear that as much as I loved the band, my first priority was Beth. I’d gotten no resistance from either of them, both of them at my back if I needed. Because that’s the way it had always been, and no amount of fame and money was going to change that.
“You think he’s going to show?” Joey stared out the window as we pulled up to the gym.
“Yep.” My thumb tapped impatiently on the steering wheel. “He’s predictable and not smart, so I’d say we’re going to have no problems.”
Mike Warren—or piece of shit, as I liked to call him—was a creature of habit. He liked to get a green juice from Beets around the corner, and then spend a couple of hours in the gym.
And as much as I would have liked to pretend the CSI had been difficult, I’d gotten his daily routine with zero effort courtesy of his Twitter account. Every check-in and Twit-pic of his boring existence was just waiting for me to see. But it wasn’t just his fucktard poser gym photos that were featured. Nope, there were links to his family, where he worked—every single detail of the moron’s life hashtagged for convenience. @Asshole #YouAreADumbFuck.
After that it was just a few well-placed emails, and all I had to do was wait.
Annnnnnnd there we were, right on schedule, the douchebag sucking his wheat germ, kale and whatever juice as he walked down the street. Time to get out of the car and give him his surprise; we didn’t want to be rude and keep him waiting.
“Hey.” He lifted his hands defensively the minute he’d spied Joey and I. “You touch me and I’ll sue.”
“Awww, he’s worried we’d hurt his pretty face.” Joey laughed, waiting for me to take the lead.
“We’re not going to lay a finger on you.” I leaned up against my ‘Vette, wondering what the hell Beth had ever seen in this guy. “But we are going to talk and you are going to listen.”
“Sure, I’m happy to hear whatever you have to say but my time is worth money, boys.” Smug bastard grinned. So green it was, good to know. “How much is she worth to you?”
I was seriously having issues with not touching him.
No, for real. If my fist was to accidentally connect with his face that surely wouldn’t count. I mean, he was literally begging for it.
“She’s worth everything, but I’m not paying you one penny.”
It wasn’t an issue of money. If I knew that giving this guy a couple of grand would take care of the problem, then I’d happily open my wallet. I gave little fucks about the size of my bank account. But it didn’t take a brain surgeon to know this dumbass wasn’t going to be content with a one-time money pay off, nor did I like being extorted. Call me sensitive. I also preferred to neutralize this piece of shit rather than sweep him under a carpet; it was the old Bronx mentality that was hardwired to my DNA despite my new zip code.
“Well, then I think you are wasting your time. There are lots of people who are more than happy to pay. Your lawyer can throw up as many roadblocks as she likes. But photos don’t lie.”
Beth had mentioned he had some kind of proof, but she had assumed it was surveillance footage, witness accounts that put them together. Turns out that he wasn’t just a garden-variety opportunist, but also a grade-A pervert who liked to take a couple of happy snaps. The nature of the photos was yet to be determined but I assumed they weren’t of his microscopic dick.
Again, I struggled to keep my feet nailed to the floor, the asshole pushing his luck on how willing I was to allow him to keep breathing. My patience running out by the second.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I fought the urge to shove the cup he was sipping on like a douchebag up his ass. “You’re going to delete those photos and you’re going to give Beth your heartfelt apology. You’re going to get down on your fucking knees and beg she believes you’re sincere and then you are going to say goodbye and crawl back under whatever rock you crawled out from under.”
“Ha, why would I do that? I know you can’t do shit.” Fuckface smiled, no fucking clue about the shitstorm about to rain down.
“Really?” My grin matched his as I eyeballed him. “Pretty sure your boss, Cooper, feels differently.” I pulled out my phone, the screenshots I’d saved displayed so he could get a clearer picture of what I was talking about. “I’m wondering if he is aware you fucked his underage niece last year at the staff Christmas party? Statutory rape stings like a bitch, dude. Not a lot of work out there for child molesters.”
“She was eighteen.” He paled, his eyeballs widening like he couldn’t be sure. “And you have no proof I slept with her.”
“You really are a dumb fuck.” I barked out a laugh. Seriously, how this man was able to think and breathe at the same time was still a fucking mystery. A few clicks here and there and I was able to get all the recon I’d needed, he even made it easier for me, his profiles wide open.
“Her date of birth is on her Facebook profile, which you probably should have checked before you tagged her in your threesome life goals post.” I scrolled through my camera roll, screenshots illustrating my point. “Also the photo of the two of you on your buddy Braxton’s couch doesn’t do you any favors. I’m sure you remember the one, dated the day after your original post.” Screenshot. “Even with your shirt over her head, it doesn’t take a lot of detective work to see they’re her tits in your mouth.” Amazing how the smug ass grin was no longer plastered across his face. I was just getting warmed up too.
“Social media, man.” Joey shrugged, his eyes looking between my screen and the dickhead. “It really is the downfall of society.”
“So true.” I nodded with as much sympathy as I could muster. “But I’m glad to see your mom, Celica, is embracing the digital age.” Her Facebook profile front and center on my screen. “It’s good to be able to connect.”
Mention of his mom made his head snap up, predictably he didn’t want mommy dearest finding out about what kind of asshole she’d raised. And we were just getting started.
“Who else did we find, Joe?” I gave my chin a stroke, the grave we were digging about to get a little deeper.
“Dude, like everyone.” Joey pulled out his own phone and started scrolling through the names we’d compiled. “Uncle Pete, your cousin Steve, Aunt Jackie, your brother Tom.” He paused, looking up from his phone. “He looks like a serial killer, by the way, so you might want to watch out for him. One day you’ll be out chilling and next minute you end up in a barrel behind his garage. It happens. Oh and PS, your sister Alice has a nice rack.”
“You-you can’t do this,” douchebag stuttered, all the fucking confidence he’d been radiating mysteriously MIA.
“Actually, we sort of can.” I laughed as he wriggled around like a worm on a fucking hook. “And it’s pretty fucking wonderful how easily we can get everyone together and give them a big cyber hug. Don’t you think your fam would be really interested to know all this stuff? Joey and I are pretty concerned citizens; the public service alone would be our pleasure.”
“She told me she was eighteen.” He continued to shake his head like saying it again would somehow make it true. He really needed a new tune; the one he was singing was getting old quick.
“Yeah, close but just not close enough.” The fact not changed regardless of his ignorance. “Incidentally eighteen or not, you really are a disrespectful fucker. You have a sister, you should definitely know better.”
“What do you fucking want?” He raised his hands in surrender, all talk of monetary compensation forgotten in his moment of defeat.
“I told you what I fuckin
g want.” I got up in his grill, my fists so tight my fingernails were cutting into my palms as I kept them glued by my side. “Whatever photos you have are fucking gone, and then you’re going to grovel like the worthless meatbag that you are. And you better be fucking convincing, or I not only tell your family everything, but I will destroy you. All of that shit, was done in one night. Imagine what I can put together when I have some time on my hands. You were worried about me taking a swing? Dude, you’ll be praying for me to end your life.”
This was as big a compromise as I was willing to make.
The urge to beat the ever-living shit out of him hadn’t passed. And if I saw the fucked up grin of his one more time Joey was going to have to hold me back, deal or no deal. But my point had been made.
No one fucked with what was mine. That wasn’t going to change whether I was playing a stadium or whether I was broke, working at Staples. And if anyone else had similar ideas, they would have the same fucking fate.
I loved that girl and it was about time to show everyone exactly how much.
As another unanswered call went to voicemail, I continued to ignore my phone.
While the news story hadn’t run as previously planned, my sudden absence at work had been noticed. A substitute had been called to take my classes, while staff and parents were informed I had taken some personal time.
Jules fed me details—something I hadn’t asked for—claiming complete ignorance while being my inside man.
Most had assumed my rock-star boyfriend had whisked me away on a romantic trip, while others whispered that I was probably pregnant. Because, of course, those were the only plausible reasons why I was no longer in the classroom doing my job. The fact that the establishment had taken the right from me based on hearsay and innuendo couldn’t possibly be to blame. No of course not.
I wasn’t proud of how I’d dealt with it. I was still grappling with my emotions and how I’d responded, annoyed I hadn’t been stronger. But the shock had knocked me off my feet, and it made me question everything. That someone I’d barely known could take so much away from me scared the hell out of me. I’d been naïve, and I had more than learnt my lesson.
Max was right about one thing.
My first instinct was to run.
Not because I didn’t think he was worth the trouble, but because I was scared that I was going to lose everything—Max included. I figured it was easier to bail out early than to have it taken from me. And the last thing I wanted was to be anyone’s burden. I loved him too much for that.
Turns out he didn’t give me a choice.
And maybe that is what scared me the most. That he would one day regret his decision.
He’d kissed me before he left, he seemed reluctant but I knew he had work to do. They had an album that needed to be recorded and I couldn’t ask him to drop everything or put his life on hold just because mine was in the toilet. Besides, he’d already done so much. Holding me, loving me—not once asking for anything more than I was able to give.
I forced myself to shower, go downstairs to my empty apartment and put on some clean clothes. I might soon be unemployed with no prospects, but I wasn’t going to totally give up on life. And it was while I was there looking at the bed I hadn’t slept in that Max had called, asking if I could meet him at a nightclub in midtown.
A nightclub.
In the middle of the day.
Sure, that wasn’t weird.
I thought by virtue anything that had the word night in its title wasn’t operational during the daylight hours, but hey, crazy shit happened all the time. Who was I to judge? And it’s not like I had a good excuse not to go, my daily schedule was completely clear. It was probably going to be that way for a while too, so other than the venue being slightly questionable there really wasn’t a reason not to.
Maybe it was a band thing? Wanting to test out the music on a stage through a PA or something? I mean, maybe that happens, right? Or what if he bought the club? Deciding that just being a highly successful musician wasn’t enough, so he should invest in property too? It would make sense, the two industries sort of overlapping. And he’d recently bought the penthouse he was now living in so maybe he was expanding his portfolio.
So, with wild and differing theories running in my mind, I made my way to the address he’d given me, a small boutique club in Midtown that had a big red closed sign on the front door.
It was while I was debating whether to knock on the door or call Max on the phone that the dark wooden door swung open. A mountain of a man who stood seven foot tall and at least four foot wide answered the door.
Gulp.
I looked down at my phone to make sure I had the right address.
“Hi.” The big burly guy with a man bun smiled. “You must be Beth.”
“Ummm, yes I am.” I put out my hand wondering if offering a handshake made me appear lame or business like. Probably lame but I had other problems to worry about, like what the hell I was doing here.
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Dom.” He returned my handshake, his hand surprisingly gentle for someone with that many muscles. I had fully expected to have a bone or two crushed in the exchange so was pretty pleased to have all my wiggly fingers whole.
“Hi, Dom.”
I’d hoped it was his name and not his job title. Maybe I had been presumptuous in thinking I knew what kind of club this was. And if this was Max’s way of being funny—ha ha invite the girl who was accused of kinky, wild sex to a sex club—I was going to kill him.
“Come in, I’ll get Max for you.” He stepped aside so I could squeeze past, my feet stepping into a small foyer with still no clue as to why I was there.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Max appeared a few minutes later, his lips on me before I had a chance to return his greeting. “I would have come and picked you up, but I was in the middle of something.”
“It’s no big deal.” Making my way to the club by myself the least of my worries. “Is there a reason you asked me to meet you here?” Not that I didn’t appreciate the distraction from my misery, but the question needed to be answered.
“I didn’t want an audience.” He took my hand, taking a step forward; the door leading to the main part of the club still closed. “I need you to trust me and walk through that door.”
This was totally a sex club.
“Max, I trust you. I do, but I need to know what I’m walking into. It has nothing to do with trusting you.” I kept my feet in place not moving any closer towards the door. “With the stuff that has gone on in the last twenty four hours, I can’t handle any more loss of control. I need to be in the driver’s seat.”
“I promise, you will be all the way,” he said, giving away very little. “You don’t like the way it is going, you walk out the door. Come with me, Beth. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
If I ever was going to take a massive leap of faith, it would be now. And even though I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side, Max had made it clear that I wasn’t doing it alone. What was the worst that could happen?
I nodded without trying to over think it; my feet taking a few tentative steps until he pushed open the door.
The lights were on, illuminating the entire place so I had barely stepped foot inside when it all became clear. Mike was there, sitting at one of the empty tables with Joey sitting beside him. And every single ounce of oxygen housed in my lungs expelled itself in one giant rush.
“What—” is he doing here? I couldn’t finish the sentence, my chest hurting as I struggled to breathe.
“Beth, he won’t hurt you.” Max steadied me, his hands on my waist holding me upright. “He does have something he needs to say though.”
I didn’t hear the words right away, too busy wondering why Mike was here and what he could possibly say that I wanted to hear. Not gonna lie, I was also surprised he was still breathing after Max’s reaction last night. He’d obviously showed a ridiculous amount of restraint.
“What?” Again
the sentence not completed, the do you want left hanging, he didn’t deserve more.
“I’m sorry about what I said to the press.” Mike’s knee jigged under the table. “But I won’t be saying anything else to anyone so . . . I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t an idiot, I was well aware his sudden need to apologize had been coerced. While Mike was sitting with no visible marks or bruises, I didn’t expect he’d come to the realization all on his own.
“You’re sorry?” The words sounded just as ridiculous coming from my mouth as they’d had from his. “You tried to ruin my life.”
“I didn’t think about it that way.” He shook his head, clueless to the hell I’d had to endure at his hands. “You pissed me off, okay? You were all about me and then nothing. One date and then you took up with him.” His eyes moved to Max. “How is that fair? I can’t compete with a fucking rock star, so I figured if I was going to have to be shoved to the side, might as well make some extra cash in the process, no big deal.”
“Me and you not being together had nothing to do with him. You were a terrible date, and I just didn’t want to go out with you again.” I felt Max’s fingers tighten on me, and I wasn’t sure if it was to stop himself from punching him or to comfort me. Probably a mix of both. “And even if I had been so shallow, it doesn’t justify what you did.”
“Yeah, well.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I think it did.”
“Tell her the rest,” Max spat out, obviously knowing more of the conversation than I was hearing.
“The reason why the paper was willing to run the story was I had photos. Of you. It was enough to prove your identity and our relationship, and that’s all they really wanted to know. The other stuff they were happy to take my word on.”
I couldn’t speak, first that my privacy had been violated and secondly that a paper cared so little about the actual facts they were willing to take unsubstantiated half-truths.