“They’re being published without my permission. There must be something she can do? And how did Express Media get hold of them?”
Claudia shakes her head with regret. “Unfortunately, they have the owner’s permission.”
“That’s ridiculous. I would never give them permission.”
“Not you…Lucas.” Claudia’s tone is filled with accusation.
My heart sinks to my stomach. “He wouldn’t.”
But what other explanation can there be? He’s the only one who has access to his camera. No, I can’t believe he’d do something like that after everything we’ve been through. After he told me he loved me.
Claudia puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “He’s done it before. Now he’s done it again. Probably still blames you for Garrett’s death, and this is his revenge.”
Too agitated to sit, I jump to my feet. “No… It was Travis who took the photos on the beach. Lucas knows how much it hurt me. He would never do that to me. Because he loves me.” He told me he doesn’t blame me for the accident. Did he not mean it?
Rising from her seat, Claudia stands next to me, a sympathetic expression on her face. “Then explain how they’ve gotten leaked. I know there’s no way you’d do it.”
I pace the floor. “Why? What would he get out of it?”
Why would he want to break my heart in such a humiliating way? Earlier this morning he said he was worried no one would show up at his exhibition. Is this his way of attracting attention? Nausea rolls in my stomach.
This can’t be happening. Lucas loves me. “There must be a mistake. Lucas deleted the photos,” I say to remind her, or am I just in denial?
“There’s one way to find out if he really did. Is his camera in his office?”
I nod.
“Let’s find out.”
She starts to leave, and when I don’t follow because my feet are glued to the floor in fear, she turns back, takes my hand, and pulls me along behind her.
“Better to get this over with,” she says. “Then you can deal with the low-life, lying jerk.”
Walking into Lucas’ office, even though I’ve come in here many times, now feels like I’m violating his privacy. By looking through his things, I’m guilty of being suspicious. Doubting his love for me and wondering how the hell I’ve found myself in this position again.
“Is this it?” Claudia drops my hand, picks up the camera on his desk, and hands it to me. My hands shake so violently I almost drop it.
“Yes,” my voice croaks.
Turning it on, I click through the many photos. Some I recognize as pieces he’s adding to the exhibition. Just as I’m about to give up and breathe a sigh of relief because Claudia is wrong, the next photo stops my heart. In it I’m lying naked on the forest floor on a bed of leaves and moss. Weak light filters through the canopy, cascading over my pale skin.
The blood drains from my face.
He didn’t delete them.
He lied.
“From your expression, I can tell you’re holding the proof that he’s not to be trusted,” Claudia says. There is an air of smugness in her tone, like she’s enjoying being right. “What are you going to do?”
I set the camera on the desk and hug my arms around my waist, trying to keep myself from falling apart. “I don’t know.” I can barely breathe. How am I supposed to know how I take the next step?
“Would you like me to call Lucas and tell him what a piece of shit he is? He’s worse than Darren.”
“No. I’ll deal with it.” Like a zombie, I walk from the office and into my bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare sightlessly at the floor.
“I always knew he couldn’t be trusted,” Claudia says from the doorway. “He spun you a story, and you fell for it. This was his plan all along. Get you to fall in love with him to then stab you in the back. I tried warning you.”
I rub my hands up and down my thighs. “Yes, you did.” From the first day I showed interest in Lucas—back in high school—Claudia continuously let me know that he was no good and he’d never return my feelings. He was a jock. I was invisible.
