“I’d like to approve it before you post it,” Lemmy adds quickly, looking at us both again. “I’m not in public relations, and you can surely run it by your PR team as well, but please let me look it over prior to publishing anything.”
“Okay,” Carter nods, letting out a tired breath. He leansback in his seat. “Thanks, Lem. I know I’ve been keeping you busy these past couple of months.”
Lemmy’s hard stare burns into his face. She reaches for some of the files, all without looking away from him. After a moment, when Carter says nothing more but starts to look ashamed of himself, she pauses.
“Carter, you know that there isn’t a mess that I won’t help you clean, correct?” she asks, and he stares at the countertop, offering a shrug. “You aren’t a bad man, and you are undoubtedly worth the headaches.”
Carter glances up at her, eyes all sad and disappointed in himself.
Lemmy leans forward to place her hand on his shoulder. I see a fire in her eyes, a rage that I feel brewing in my own chest.
“People try to take advantage of you because of who you are. You’re a celebrity. They will try to paint you out to be whatever fits their narrative, good or bad. It’s my job to ensure they don’t get away with that, alright? I’m here to protect Carter Forkerro, the guy who mails me a birthday card every year on my birthday and who never fails to make me laugh. You just happen to be a celebrity on top of a damn good man.”
Carter stares up at her, his shoulders softening at the impact of her words. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a soft smile touching his lips.
“Stop flirting with me, Lem. My girl is right beside me, and she can fight.”
Forker61: Story Post.
An interview has recently surfaced of a woman who alleges we had, and are having, an intimate relationship. I would like to state very clearly that this is untrue. I have never had anyrelationship with this individual, intimate or otherwise. I do not know her personally.
Although I am angry and disappointed at the hit piece that was definitely not vetted before publication, I am most concerned about my amazing and loyal partner, Arden, and how it could have impacted her. Arden and I have something special, and I’m unwilling to have her name dragged through the mud just because she’s with me. I am grateful to have her by my side throughout this, and hope you’ll respect her desire to remain a private individual who you will see out publicly with me.
I reject all statements made in that interview. They are all untrue. I will never bite my tongue when it comes to protecting the people I love. If this continues any further, I will be pursuing legal action.
Journalists, please ensure you are doing your homework before you post things that are unfounded and vehemently untrue. Have respect for your craft.
Carter Forkerro.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
carter
It’shard to help somebody who doesn’t want it.
Arden is busying herself to try and distract herself, but her distress is all over her. She wants sex frequently, which I am definitely not complaining about, but I worry she’s just using it to avoid thinking. I have tried to broach the subject, but she will not discuss it. It’s completely off the table.
I’m not forcing her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.
I just want Red to be okay. She’s over more often than she isn’t nowadays, so our ‘three days a week’ rule is pretty much null and void. She’s been taking extra shifts as frequently as she can. She’s either working, hanging out with Autumn and Whitney, or having sex with me. That woman who was finally giving herself a break has gone right back to who she was before our deal began.
I’m worried about her.
I help her in the only way I know how. I’m here. I’m present. I bring her lunch to work, I ask her what she needs, and I give her orgasms that let her sleep soundly at night.
And I walk into police stations to have little chats with her snivelly friends.
I’m still leaning against the desk when he rounds the corner, irritation flashing over his face when he sees me. I smile, big and wide and arrogant. I pull my sunglasses from my nose and nod at him.
“Officer Peck.”
“You’re the individual who wants to make a report?” He slows to a stop in front of me, his posture screaming that he’s annoyed. I don’t miss how he places his hand on the butt of his gun in its holster, either.
Little dick move.
“Oh, yeah. A big one.”
He stares at me, unamused. The officer at the desk starts busying himself with paperwork, skittering away to a photocopy machine.
