Page 87 of Jameson’s Salvation

“What’s—”

“Fuck!” Jameson roared and my body jerked with the force of his yell.

I turned my head to follow Jameson’s gaze to McKenna’s laptop. Her hands were nowhere near the keyboard but pictures were scrolling.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Reggie accessed his cloud.” McKenna’s answer was barely above a whisper.

I watched in horror as images of me and Jameson in my house scrolled down the screen. Some of them had an arrow in the middle of the image indicating they were movies.

“How did he…I don’t understand…” I stuttered.

“Peyton Marshall didn’t take anything, he set up cameras,” McKenna explained.

My knees buckled and I was grateful Jameson had an iron grip around my waist or I would’ve hit the floor.

Reggie continued to scroll and when an image of me naked on the bed with Jameson’s head between my legs filled the screen, I felt sick.

“Turn the fuck around,” Jameson barked.

“Already did, man,” Chasin answered.

“I’m gonna throw up,” I announced but Jameson didn’t let me go.

“Fuck. Goddamn,” Nixon barked from the doorway.

“Jameson. I’m going to throw up. Let me go!” I shouted and wrenched my body away from his.

I pushed past Chasin and when I was halfway to the bathroom I heard him say, “Lock his ass down and don’t let him leave. I’ll call Weston and see to Kennedy.”

I didn’t have time to shut the door before I was on my knees heaving into the toilet.

“Weston. Get to the office now.”

I heard a clatter on the sink basin, then a wet cloth was pressed to the back of my neck.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Kennedy.” Chasin tried to soothe.

“No, it’s not. He has naked pictures of me and Jameson. Oh, God.” My stomach roiled again and if I’d been in the right frame of mind I would’ve kicked Chasin out.

Sick.

Reggie Coleman was a sick fucking bastard. Oh my God, he’d seen us have sex. He’d seen me naked—having sex. No. This couldn’t be happening. That did not just happen.

“Kennedy. Try to take a breath and hold it, you’re gonna hyperventilate.”

“So?” I panted.

“You’ll pass out, sweetheart. Slow your breathing.”

“At least I would stop thinking about that fucking prick seeing us… seeing…holy shit, Chasin. He saw.”

I must’ve been delirious because one second I was on the floor in front of the toilet emptying the contents of my stomach and the next I was sitting on a counter and Chasin was washing my face like a child. I had no recollection how I got there.

“My mom,” I cried.

“Will never see them. No one will. McKenna will make sure everything is wiped clean.”