Page 73 of Wrecked

Everyone laughs, and then they feel guilty for finding it funny.

Everything is fine, until it isn’t. The first sign of trouble is when Beth’s phone chimes with an incoming message. She grabs her phone, probably thinking it’s Shane getting back with her. But no. The blood drains from her face as she stares at her screen.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. This is a whole new level of WTF!

She keeps staring at her phone, eyes wide.

Then her phone chimes a half-dozen times, rapid fire. Somebody is spamming her phone again, and I can guess who it is.

I lay my hand on her back. “Beth? Talk to me.”

She shoots up out of her seat and makes a run for the ladies room.

I stand, intending to go after her, but Lia beats me to it. “Beth, wait!”

When I join them in the bathroom, a concerned Lia is standing outside Beth’s stall door.

“How is she?” I ask.

Lia shrugs. “I don’t know. She won’t open the door.”

“Beth, it’s me, Sam. Sweetie, are you sick?” I’m about two seconds away from crawling underneath the door to get to her.

“Please, guys,” Beth says. She sounds gutted. Heartbroken. “Just go back to the table. I need to be alone right now.”

Oh, hell no!

“We’re not leaving you, Princess,” I say. “Please come out and talk to us.” I reach up to grip the top of her stall door, and when she reaches up and lays her hands over mine, my heart just about breaks. I can feel her hands shaking.

When Beth unlocks the stall door, I push it open.

She holds her phone out to us, showing us the screen. Lia grabs it to get a better look. I loom over Lia’s shoulder as she flips through a series of photos.

“Holy shit,” I say, feeling as shocked as Beth.

“No way,” Lia says, shaking her head adamantly. “No fucking way.”

The first photo is of Shane and Luciana standing outside a jewelry store on North Michigan Avenue. Luciana’s wearing a slutty red dress and fuck-me red heels. Shane’s dressed in his customary business suit.

In the second photo, Luciana is cupping Shane’s face with her hands, leaning into him, her red-painted lips plastered to his.

In the third photo, Shane’s fingers are in the skank’s hair, and he’s holding her tightly to him, his mouth locked on hers.

There are three more images of them kissing. In one, he’s copping a feel. In another, he’s grabbing her ass.

I look closer at the images. Yeah, that’s definitely Shane, and that’s the skank. But this doesn’t make any sense. Shane would never cheat on Beth. Not in a million years! I mean, come on. The guy worships the ground she walks on. It’s impossible.

“Beth, come on,” Lia says. “You know he wouldn’t do this to you.”

Beth grabs her phone back and looks at the images once more. Then she shoves her phone in our faces. “Look at those images! That’s clearly Shane!”

Now it’s my turn to grab the phone. I scroll through the images again. “The first two are definitely Shane, yes. But in the rest of the photos, you can only see the guy from the back. I’ll admit itlookslike him, and he’s dressed the same, but you can’t really be sure it’s him.”

Beth shakes her head. “Come on, guys.” She sucks in a shaky breath, clearly on the verge of tears. “These photos were takenat the same time, in the same location. They’re standing right outside the same shop.”

“No,” Lia says, shaking her head vehemently as she sticks up for her brother. “He wouldn’t do this.”

My mind is desperately searching for a reasonable explanation as Beth and Lia debate the authenticity of the images.