#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8)

by Cambria Hebert

  He nodded.

  I straightened but left him lying. I wasn’t about to help the bastard up.

  “Three-quarters of a million,” he said once the chair was righted and his ass was in it.

  I glanced at Trent and B. We all spoke without a word.

  If he was only getting three-quarters, that meant the rest was going to Missy. By the time she was done, she would pocket well over a million dollars.

  Guess that was a lot of money to help make her stupid #BuzzBoss website even bigger than it had already grown. Sure, I’d known Missy was still the #BuzzBoss. After we all left Alpha University, she kept it going, but instead of reporting on small-time campus gossip, she started going after celebrities. It took about a year, but eventually, the website had gone national and it became a legitimate source of gossip.

  But knowing Missy, she wanted it to be even bigger. She liked power. She liked money… and she was willing to do whatever she had to do to get it.

  If she wasn’t a woman, I’d punch her in the face.

  “You’re not doing this story. You’re going to walk out of here today and never talk to another reporter or gossip rag about me or my wife ever again.”

  He laughed.

  My tongue slid over my teeth. “How much is this payday worth to you?” I tilted my head to the side.

  “I already told you,” he spat.

  He was a dumb asshole. “Yeah, but that money, it ain’t free. What’s it going to cost you?”

  “He has no idea what you mean, Rome. He’s stupid,” Braeden put in.

  “If you give the interview, take the money, you’ll never have another day of peace,” I intoned, flexing my hands. “I’ll always be around. Not physically, but you’ll know I’m there. You know I can’t stop you from selling your lies to the press, so you know you can’t stop me from doing it either.”

  “I’m not lying. I popped her cherry.”

  “You got any proof?” I asked, wanting so badly to hit him again. The thought of this guy touching my girl made me want to kill. “Any evidence?”

  “I have a picture.”

  I stilled.

  Braeden made a sound and jumped forward, grabbing him up by the front of his shirt. “Men who take pictures of women in vulnerable positions make me sick.” He reared his fist back.

  Oh shit, this idiot went and triggered Braeden’s memories of everything Ivy had been through.

  I stepped forward in case I had to pull him off.

  “She’s got clothes on!” Kane screeched and winced, waiting for the hit.

  “What?” Braeden paused.

  “It’s not from that time…” Kane slid his eyes to me. “It’s a group shot of her with me and my friends.”

  Braeden dropped him. He sagged into the chair, relieved. Kane looked at me. “It’s proof I knew her back then.”

  I shrugged. “So you knew her. Big deal. Doesn’t prove shit. I have a lot of money, Kane. I have a lot of lawyers. I know people. I’ll sue you so much and so hard you’ll live inside a courtroom. Slander, harassment, falsifying information—I’ll get you on it all.”

  Note: I didn’t know if I could sue him for all that shit. I wasn’t a lawyer, but he wasn’t either, so whatever.

  “Then there’s the fact that you’ll be labeled a sexual predator,” Trent added.

  Everyone looked at him.

  Kane sucked in a breath.

  “You were seventeen years old. She was thirteen. I’m pretty sure that’s considered molestation, statutory rape… or at the very least, assault,” I said, adding to Trent’s words. “You know what the media will do to someone like you?”

  He swallowed thickly.

  “I’ll make you burn through all that money in court fees, and then when that’s over, you can live for the rest of your life as a registered sex offender.”

  “No,” he said, his eyes wide like it never even crossed his mind.

  “You know what they do to child rapists in jail?” Braeden asked quietly.

  He paled.

  “I know it seems like the press hates Rimmel right now, but they don’t. She’s their little darling. You come out with this, and they will turn on you faster than you even know is possible. She’ll become a victim, and you… you’ll be tried and sentenced before I even get you into court.”

  Beside me, Trent spoke. “Seven hundred and fifty grand don’t seem like very much now, does it?”

  “I’ll ask for more,” he said, angry. “I’ll get it.”

  “Wonder how much I’ll get when I leak your arrest record to the press,” Drew mused behind us all.

  Everyone turned to look.

  He smiled from behind the laptop. “Breaking and entering, car boosting, assault, and… wait for it… solicitation of a minor.”

  Did you hear that sound?

  It was the sound of the nail in his coffin.

  I laughed. And laughed some more. “You’re a fucking moron.”

  “How did you get ahold of that?” he demanded. “Those records are sealed!”

  “Not anymore, they’re not,” Drew drawled.

  “Drop the story,” I intoned. “Or I swear to God, I will ruin you.”

  “I’ll go to the press, tell them you threatened me! I’ll tell the police!”

  I grabbed my cell, lit up the screen, and held it out. “Want me to dial the cops now? When they get here, I’ll tell them about your prior record and the fact you lured me here to try and blackmail me to keep you from telling your lies about my wife to the press.”

  “They won’t believe you! Look at my face!” he yelled, blood splattering his chin from his busted lip.

  “When Rome refused to pay your blackmail, you rushed him. He was just defending himself,” Braeden said.

  “That’s what I saw.” Trent agreed.

  “Ditto,” Drew replied.

  “You gotta ask yourself: who they gonna believe? A guy with an arrest record that includes solicitation of a minor, or me, a quarterback at the top of his game, whose wife has been harassed relentlessly by the press and is now the victim of a sick stalker?”

  “You’re an asshole,” Kane whined.

  “I also make good on my promises.”

  His head hung onto his chest.

  “Call and cancel the interview,” I ordered.

  He sat there debating for a long time. Well, it sure as fuck felt like a long time. Really, it was probably only minutes.

  The silence was beginning to get to me. I was getting nervous he wasn’t going to cave under the weight of my argument. For some people, that kind of money was a once in a lifetime.

  But so was my wife, and I wasn’t leaving here until he called it off.

  “Dude, how many unpaid parking tickets do you have?” Drew asked, breaking the silence. “Did you know your driver’s license is suspended?”

  He slumped a little farther. “Fine.”

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “I’ll call it off.”

  “Do it now.”

  He took his sweet ass time pulling out his cell and calling up a number. When he pressed the phone to his ear, I made a sound.

  “Put it on speaker,” I demanded.

  He did as he was told. He was learning.

  “Hello?” a voice from the past answered.

  “It’s Jonathan.”

  “I’m on my way to the hotel now. You ready for the interview?”

  Braeden began pacing at the sound of her voice.

  “I changed my mind. I’m not doing it,” Kane said and glanced at me.

  I nodded.

  “What!” Missy exclaimed. “You can’t back out now!”

  “Yes, I can. I have.”

  “If this is about the money…” She began.

  “It’s not. I just changed my mind.” He glanced at me again, and I pressed a finger to my lips, indicating he better not say shit about me.”

  “Why?”

  “It just doesn’t feel right,” he replied, and my eyes narr
owed.

  “They got to you, didn’t they?” She accused.

  “Who?” Kane pretended he had no idea.

  “How the hell did they find out—Ah!” She gasped. “I never should have shopped it to People.

  “Kane, listen to me—”

  I dragged my finger across my throat.

  He cut the connection and looked at me.

  “Get your shit. You’re checking out.”

  “I’m here until tomorrow,” he insisted.

  “Nope.” Braeden argued.

  I motioned for him to hurry up and then waited impatiently while he threw what little shit he had into a black duffle on the floor.

  “Leave the room keys on the table,” I instructed.

  He put both keycards on the table.

  “Don’t bother going to the front desk. They’ll check you out when they get the keys and send the bill to whoever is paying for this room.” He didn’t need to know I knew all about the #BuzzBoss.

  We escorted him down the stairwell and out into the parking lot.

  “I don’t have a car here,” he mumbled.

  “Get in.” I motioned at our rental.

  He balked.

  “If I wanted you dead, you would be already.”

  With a sigh, he got into the passenger seat, while me, Trent, and B squished into the back.

  Drew drove him the airport and pulled up to the departure wing. “My plane doesn’t leave 'til tomorrow,” he whined.

  “Change your ticket or sleep at your gate. I don’t give a fuck. Now get out.”

  “Might want to clean your face up in the bathroom or TSA is gonna think you’re the Unabomber,” B cracked.

  Kane spun in his seat. I saw the anger and hatred in his eyes, felt it brewing on his tongue.

  Trent jerked forward, surprising us all, and grabbed him by the face, squeezing Kane’s cheeks between his fingers. “You’ve been warned about talking about my sister. Don’t say it,” he growled. “‘Cause this time I’ll knock you the hell out, and we’ll dump your unconscious pussy ass on the sidewalk and drive away.”

  “Fuck you,” Kane muttered as he stormed out of the car like a five-year-old.

  “You aren’t my type,” Trent yelled after him.

  Drew drove off before he’d even stepped fully onto the sidewalk. I stared out the back window as he watched us drive away.

  “You don’t think he’ll jump in a cab and go back to the hotel, do you?” B asked, his eyes watching him, too.

  “Nah.” I was sure we’d scared him enough. He knew I meant everything I said in that hotel room. He saw it in my eyes.

  I would destroy him.

  I would probably even enjoy it.

  As Drew turned onto the on ramp to take us away from the airport and back to my wife, I glanced back one last time.

  Kane was walking into the airport, on the way the hell out of our lives.

  Rimmel

  Romeo Anderson was not the boss of me.

  Neither were any of my three overbearing brothers.

  So when he put me in bed and told me I had to stay there while he went off and likely did things I wouldn’t approve of, my first reaction was to kick him.

  Then I remembered I was tired.

  And I didn’t want to see Jonathan.

  Maybe just this one time, I could appreciate his bossy, annoying behavior and not argue. Ivy seemed to be of the same mind, even though neither of us said it out loud. Besides, we had Nova to think about.

  They were gone a long time… like hours.

  We ordered food, but I didn’t eat. I couldn’t. My stomach was in knots. I drank some tea and picked at a muffin, but Nova ate more than I did.

  After I’d glanced at the clock for like the millionth time, I glanced at Ivy. “Do you think they’re in jail?”

  “I really hope not,” she replied. “What a bunch of boneheads.”

  Nova was napping between us on the mattress, and we both went back to watching some movie that was doing a terrible job at keeping our mind off things.

  As much as I wanted Romeo not to go, I was sort of glad he did. I didn’t want that story to come out. It would be humiliating. Even if I never confirmed it, even if it was embellished and not completely accurate, it was still terrible.

  I would be so ashamed. My father would see. He would know it was true. It wasn’t as if he were some picture of perfection—heaven knows he made more mistakes than me—but he was still my father.

  My grandparents would see.

  Everyone I worked with would see.

  The entire world.

  The press would run wild with it, and the coverage would be endless. I just wasn’t up for it.

  I was tired. I just wanted us to be happy and for the fresh start we worked so hard for to not be tainted with the past.

  Ivy must have sensed my swirling thoughts because without a word, she reached across the bed, over her daughter, and grabbed my hand. I gave it a squeeze, thanking her for the silent support.

  We sat like that until there was a knock on the door. Ivy and I glanced at each other.

  “Think they forgot the key?” she whispered.

  I shook my head.

  “Me either.”

  There was another knock.

  “Housekeeping?” Ivy guessed again.

  I shrugged and slid out of bed and walked on what felt like unsteady legs toward the door. Ivy followed along with me. Both of us stopped at the door and listened.

  I motioned for the peephole, and Ivy nodded. I leaned forward and squinted to look through.

  I reared back like someone slapped me.

  “What is it?” Ivy whisper demanded.

  “Missy!” I whisper yelled.

  Her blue eyes went so wide I could see the whites around her entire irises. No way, she mouthed.

  Missy knocked again. “I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

  Romeo told me not to open the door for anyone.

  Remember how I said he wasn’t the boss of me?

  I opened the door.

  She was standing there at the threshold like she owned the place. Her holier-than-thou persona made my stomach roll and my upper lip curl.

  “What the hell do you want?” I snapped, my voice firm and angry, not one ounce of my exhaustion and stress showing through.

  “I want my interview and my big payday.”

  I had to appreciate the fact that she cut right to the chase.

  Hopefully, she would appreciate the fact that I was going to do the same.

  I reared back and sent my fist forward with all the momentum I had. It slammed into her nose with really good accuracy. I actually felt the bone shift under my knuckle.

  Pain exploded in my hand. I winced but otherwise sucked it up. I wasn’t about to show weakness to this little bitch.

  “Ow!” she wailed. Her head snapped back and blood began to pour from her nose. She pressed a hand over it immediately, pulled it back, and gasped when she saw all the red. “You hit me!” she exclaimed. “I think you broke my nose.”

  “Better get the hell out of here before I break something else,” I snapped, shaking out my throbbing hand.

  “You little bitch,” Missy snarled and dropped her designer bag (which was now splattered with blood) onto the floor. The next thing I knew, she was coming at me.

  I planted my feet and got ready for her. If she wanted a fight, then I would damn well give her one. She deserved an ass kicking after everything she’d done to my family.

  Romeo wasn’t the only one that could throw some punches today.

  Just before she reached me, an arm snaked around her waist from behind, and she was dragged back. She continued to kick and hit and try to get at me even after Romeo lifted her clear off the floor.

  “I told you not to open the door,” he growled.

  “You’re not the only one who can protect this family.”

  “She broke my nose!” Missy exclaimed again.

  “Maybe it will
make you look better,” Ivy called.

  Missy started struggling again. Romeo looked bored and didn’t even have to try to restrain her.

  “I know you made him cancel!” she wailed.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Romeo replied.

  “You liar!” Blood was running out of her nose and into the palm of her hand.

  “You should probably go,” I told her. “Get that checked out.”

  “I’ll call the police, have you arrested!”

  As if on cue, hotel security walked onto the floor, out of the stairwell. “Are you the one who called?”

  “That’s us.” Drew motioned for him.

  “This woman tried to enter our suite. She’s a reporter for #BuzzBoss.com. We asked her to leave, and she became belligerent. She tried to attack my wife,” Romeo said. He was so calm, so reasonable even I didn’t doubt what he was saying.

  “She broke my nose!” Missy yelled.

  The security officer looked at me.

  “I’m afraid I did.” I nodded. “She leapt at me, and I threw my hands up. My fist connected with her face.”

  “I saw the whole thing.” Ivy nodded gravely. “I think she’s a stalker.”

  Missy wailed in anger, and it only made her appear that much guiltier.

  “I think she needs medical attention,” I told the guard.

  “I’ll take it from here,” he said, grim. “Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Anderson.”

  “Romeo,” my very charming husband corrected. He handed a still struggling Missy over to the guard and then moved by them so he and the rest of the guys could come in the room.

  “I’m so sorry about your nose, miss,” I called. “If you come near me again, I’m going to have to get a restraining order!”

  Missy started screaming about lies, and I shut the door and threw the deadbolt. I leaned back against the door in relief.

  “Way to bust her face, tutor girl,” Braeden cracked. “She was bleeding like a stuck pig.”

  “Oh, nasty,” Ivy muttered.

  “You really let her have it, huh?” Romeo smiled. I heard pride in his voice.

  “I’m so sick of that bitch,” I muttered. “She had it coming.”

  “All that and more,” he vowed.

  I didn’t ask him what that meant, because at the moment, I just didn’t care. The adrenaline from seeing Missy at the door and from breaking her face was draining away. Suddenly, I felt more exhausted and woozy than ever.