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Did he suspect something? I couldn’t tell. My guilty conscience wasn’t making it any easier. The sickly feeling in my heart wasn’t helping, either.
I pounded the rest of my pint.
Cale sidled up to me, his cell phone in hand. “Hey, Rust. You gotta look at this, man. There’s this girl on OnlyFans you gotta see—”
“OnlyFans?” Johnny threw his head back and laughed. “Cotton, are you looking atpornat the bar?”
“I dunno,” Cale said and shrugged like a moody teenager. “It’s not like I can drink with these stupid X’s on my hand. And I wouldn’t call itporn.So yeah, why not?”
“Please tell me you’re not giving those internet porn whores your money, kid,” Johnny said.
“It’s not expensive. And again, it’s not porn. Some of them make really cool, artsy, and unique content.” Cale shrugged. “They deserve to get paid.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Johnny grouched. “You’re in the National League, kid. You don’t need to go on that OnlyFans crap. All you have to do is go up to a random girl and snap your fingers, pull up your HockeyDB page, and she’ll fuck you on the spot.”
“But … that’s not what I’m interested in?” Cale replied innocently.
Johnny turned to me. “Holy fuck. You weren’t joking. The kids today reallyaredifferent.”
I cracked a smile. “See?”
“Welp, I could use another after that.” Johnny stood and grabbed our empty pint glasses. “You want another round, big fella?”
“Sure.”
Cale lingered, phone in hand.
“What’s up, kid? What were you trying to show me?”
He cleared his throat. “So there’s this girl on OnlyFans I follow, BabyBelle. I was looking at her latest pictures just now and—dude, her new house kinda looks like your house. Alotlike yours,actually.”
I laughed. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Here, take a look for yourself!”
He thrust his phone in front of my face. My vision tunneled immediately. The pictures on Cale’s phone hit me like a blow to the stomach.
“Lemme see that,” I growled, snatching the phone out of his hands.
A pit of despair cratered my stomach as I scrolled through the pictures, one by one. It was my house in the photos, alright—but more importantly, it wasIsabelle. I recognized the photos—they were the same ones she’d sent me.
I couldn’t believe it.
Isabelle was on OnlyFans.
I felt sodumb.
All along, I thought she was taking those pictures for me. But clearly, she hadn’t been. She was posting them online. For money. From pathetic losers.
Was that what she took me for? Some sad, rich loser who could be sucked dry of his money? Was I being played?
Not that I needed anymore confirmation, but then I finally noticed her username.BabyBelle.The numbers following her username was her birth date. IsabellewasBabyBelle. Of course.
Oh, God. I couldn’t believe it.
And what wouldJohnnythink when he found out?
Paranoid, I glanced over my shoulder. Johnny was still at the bar.
