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“The video,” I mutter to myself.
There’s exactly one godforsaken video she’s after if hers is really destroyed. And now that I know I’ve got the only copy of that fucking sex tape, I have to destroy it.
“Yeah, she said you guys had a bad breakup or something. You have the only working copy and won’t give it to her. It’s none of my business—I know this stuff can be difficult—but you should give it up, man. It’s for work, isn’t it?”
My head is fucking spinning. She was willing to pay this guy thousands for a blackmail asset?
She’s been lying to both me and Osprey the whole time, pretending she has a tactical nuke to hold over me.
I’m partly relieved she doesn’t. But the rest of me knows she’ll stop at nothing to get that damned video, her own twisted mind thinking it’ll force me back to her.
This needs to end. I can’t have Carmen sending hired mercenaries to scare the hell out of Reese.
I shake my head.
“It’s not ‘work’ she’s looking for. And as one businessman to another, you’ve already done your time. You should still bill her for today.”
“Nah, she was only paying when I delivered the info.”
“You’re lucky I’ll pay you regardless. I don’t have what she’s looking for. She never would’ve paid you,” I lie. “If you talk to her again, can you deliver a message for me?”
He looks at me slowly. “Sure. I guess. What do you want to say?”
I hesitate.
“Never mind. I’ll call her instead.”
He chuckles. “Now you have to tell me. I’m curious.”
“Just that this bullshit will end, right now. But I’ll tell her soon myself.”
“Harsh words for such a sweet girl.”
I roll my eyes. “She’s sweet like a poison berry. It’s an act. There’s nothing innocent about her. She could lead a damn mafia ring.”
He smiles. “I knew a few of those back in my day.”
Whatever. I’m not interested in his war stories.
I need to get home ASAP and take care of business—like the brick of highly illegal substance in my pocket, plus telling my psycho ex-girlfriend to back off once and for all before I throw my old SD card with the video in the fire. Hell, maybe all of them, if I can’t remember which one it is.
“You’ll have the rest of your money tomorrow,” I tell him without a goodbye.
From the car, I decide I can’t wait. I have to call Carmen.
It goes straight to voicemail.
“We need to talk. If you haven’t called me by the end of the day, you’ll hear from my lawyer. I heard about your games and I’m done playing,” I snarl, cutting it there before I say anything incriminating.
Ten minutes later, I walk through my front door and lock it behind me.
God knows I need no unexpected visitors right now.
I dial Sutton first. I need to know the best thing to do with the evidence I’ve gathered on Frisk for Abby’s case, and fast.
The attorney’s phone rings a few times, but he doesn’t pick up. I leave a message asking for a call back before pulling the brick out of my pocket.
Then Carmen calls.
Fuck. I don’t have time for this right now.
Cradling a brick of pure coke in my hand makes me feel like I’m holding a neutron bomb.
I’m safe at home, but I hate having this shit anywhere out in the open. With my phone ringing, I toss the brick into my top dresser drawer.
Then I slide the green bar to take the call from hell.
“Yeah?”
“Nicholas. You finally called,” she coos.
“What choice did I have when you’re having me fucking followed?” I snap off.
She’s quiet. Dumbstruck.
“Well?” I clear my throat impatiently.
“I didn’t mean...I just...Nick, I have a photoshoot in less than ten minutes. This isn’t a good time. If you’re going to chew my head off over a little mistake like that, we’ll have to do this another time. I can’t afford to go on camera too anxious.”
“Bitch, I’m on the verge of getting a restraining order. This is your only time.”
I’m so completely done with this woman.
I’d rather do three more tours in arctic waters, boxed in with guys who smell like gym socks, than deal with her shit.
She gives a sultry laugh. “Oh, Nicholas, you’re always such a drama queen. I’ll call you tonight after my shoot, okay? We’ll talk this out then.”
I don’t have time for this fuckery. I punch End Call with a voice in the back of my head screaming I’m forgetting something important. But what?
I rack my brain for a minute, but with Frisk at the front of my mind, I strip my clothes off and jump in the shower, hoping Sutton calls by the time I’m out.
At least we could end one endless frustration today, if we’re that lucky.
Once I’m dressed, I text the executive assistant to reschedule my meeting and call Reese for a ride back to the office.
