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“Worse, he only had an idea something was going on and he set up an interrogation scene with Brose out there.”
Abby shivered. “Damn. I don’t even want to think about that.”
“Believe me, it wasn’t much fun doing it.”
“What did he say when he found out?”
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p; Meagan closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. “He told me to get the fuck out of his studio and out of his house. He wouldn’t listen to me or let me explain.”
Abby leaned forward and took her hand. “I was afraid it would come to this when you didn’t tell him. I’m so sorry.”
“There’s no way to get him back, either, is there?”
“Trust once lost is difficult to get back.” She squeezed her hand lightly. “But it is possible. I know it is. But I don’t want to give you false hope. I think that’s worse than no hope.”
“I just wish I knew what to do.”
“Have you been in contact with whoever is blackmailing you?”
“No, not yet. He gave me more time with this. I have until the end of the week.”
“What are you going to do?”
Meagan thought about what she wanted to do: curl up in a ball and cry, lock herself in her house and never come out. But those weren’t options. She had a life and she had to live it. Even if that life now stretched out before her, looking more and more lonely every day. “Maybe I’ll get a dog,” she tried joking. “Surely, I can’t mess that up.”
“Seriously, though.” Abby’s voice sounded soft and soothing. It was a balm after Luke’s tirade.
“I’m thinking about going to the police and telling them everything. Then I can contact the blackmailer and tell him to fuck off.”
“Or if you go to the police, you could give them the details and let them go after him.”
Meagan thought about both possible options. While there would be satisfaction in telling The Taskmaster what he could do with himself, she knew deep down that it would be for the best if she let the police handle it. They were more capable than she was, and in doing this she could wash her hands of the entire situation.
“Yes,” she said, agreeing with Abby. “I should probably go to the police. My one big concern, though, is whether he has any more naked pictures of me. I feel so . . . violated. I’d hate for one of those to get out.”
“If you go to the police, and give them all the information you have, maybe they can take care of it for you.”
Meagan just wasn’t sure she was ready to do that.
When she got home, she booted up her computer and sat looking at the blank screen for several long minutes. She knew it wouldn’t be possible to reason with The Taskmaster and he had already proven that he was unwilling to negotiate. That vastly limited her options. Plus, she had probably lost Luke forever, so whatever she did, needed to be for her. It was too late to get him back.
She took a deep breath and started an e-mail.
Taskmaster,
In my life, I have done several things that I regretted. Most of them are small, and have little to no bearing on either my life or my future. But there is one that I deeply regret. And that was falling prey to your demands.
I’ll give it to you—you knew exactly which buttons of mine to push. Which fears to play upon. And where to hit me at my weakest. But those aren’t the main reason I’m so angry. The main reason is that you involved Luke.
Part of me thinks I should be happy. After all, your little plan put me back in contact with him. And I will forever hold those times dear. But you took what was dear and made it something I was ashamed of. Something I couldn’t enjoy without feeling guilty. But most important, something that hurt Luke. And that is something I cannot forgive.
I’m not playing your game anymore. Do what you want, I don’t care. Nothing you can do will come close to hurting me any more than you already have.
Regards,
Tired of Your Shit
After composing the e-mail, she drummed her fingers on the desk. Not because she was unsure about sending the e-mail, but because she was trying to decide if she should copy Luke. When she realized it might be her last chance to contact him, she put him on blind carbon copy, closed her eyes, and hit SEND.
She expected him to reply immediately as he’d always done in the past. After sitting and staring at the laptop screen for five minutes, it became obvious he would not. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Eventually, she turned off her laptop and put it away.
Now that she had ended the situation with The Taskmaster, she had to decide her next step. She didn’t think she was going to the police. No, that would be too easy, and she needed to make a statement. She wanted to send a loud and clear message, not only to The Taskmaster, but also to Luke. Though she didn’t think there was any chance of them ever getting back together again, she couldn’t help but hold out some sort of hope he still wanted her.
His feelings for her had been real; she knew that. Surely, there was no way those feelings could simply disappear overnight. She held on to the hope that he was simply angry and perhaps one day he might forgive her.
She was restless for the rest of the afternoon, but she’d decided on her next step and she made a few phone calls in order to line it up. Thinking it would help clear her mind and pass the time until she heard back from The Taskmaster, she decided to go to the pizza place where Luke had stopped before their picnic.
She walked outside with the intention that she’d get takeout and eat in Central Park. But halfway to the restaurant, she knew she couldn’t do it. Too many memories of Luke. Instead, she would simply eat alone, in the restaurant.
A lady was working the hostess stand when she entered. She was glad; this way she wouldn’t be recognized. She wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions about Luke.
The waitress had just taken her order when a familiar voice rang out.
“Teresa,” a man said who sounded very much like Luke. “Did Angeleno kick you out of the kitchen?”
The hostess laughed. “He knows better.”
“Just picking on you. How about a table for two?”
A table for two? He was with someone. Was it a date? She didn’t dare look over her shoulder to see. She felt like sinking into the booth and wished she still had the menu to hide behind.
The hostess took Luke and his date to the other side of the room. Fortunately, a plant kept Meagan out of his line of sight. However, if Meagan looked between the leaves, she could just make out his table. Her heart sank when she saw he was with a woman.
And not just any woman. She was beautiful. Most definitely a model.
The waitress brought her food, but she didn’t feel like eating. She forced herself to take a few bites, though it may as well have been cardboard. Laughter drifted her way from Luke’s table and though she couldn’t hear what was said, the message was clear.
She had been replaced.
She left as quickly as she could, not even taking her leftovers home. She didn’t want to wait for a box; she just wanted to leave and get home. To get on her pajamas and curl up on the couch and think about anything other than how quickly Luke had found comfort in another woman’s arms.
And because she was a glutton for punishment, she checked her e-mail one last time before going to bed. There were two new messages. She read Luke’s first.
Don’t bother copying me on any further messages. They will be deleted unread.
She couldn’t stop the tears that ran down her cheeks. If that wasn’t a sound good-bye forever, she didn’t know what was.
That left the e-mail from The Taskmaster unread. She opened it, knowing no matter what it said, there was no way it would be half as painful as Luke’s.
You only think you’ve won, you uppity bitch. Just you wait. When you least suspect it, I’ll make you pay. And it’ll make those pansy-ass spankings from Luke feel like child’s play.
Reading the e-mail should have frightened her. There in black-and-white was a bold threat. But her eyes could barely make it past the first sentence.
Uppity bitch?
There was only one person who had ever called her that.
Her brother.
