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I’m sober now. But I could use some alcohol to numb me up, if only to touch the outer edges of my consciousness. I have a bad feeling about being here. I have a feeling I know what this is. They’re going to human sacrifice me.
“Sit,” Mark orders, once I’ve dressed in the robe. It’s not so hard to get people to do what you want when you’re holding a gun. “I hear you’ve been snooping around…”
“Me?” I motion toward my chest and then shake my head. “No.”
“Here,” he says, handing Adam the gun. “Just in case she tries to run.”
“There’s something I need to know,” Mark informs me. “Is it you who is the liar, or is that husband of yours in on this too?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He makes a clucking sound with his tongue meant to convey his disappointment. “And to think we’ve given you so much. Look at you, looking like a Barbie doll. And this is how you show your appreciation?”
“I’m flattered at the comparison,” I say. “But I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Beth comes down the stairs. “Finally.” I straighten the robe. “Now things should start making sense.”
But then nothing makes sense because Beth crosses the room and backhands me. “After all I did for you.” She hits me again. And again. She has a way of making her resentments felt. When my tongue touches my lip, I taste blood.
She’s been crying. I can tell by the way her chin quivers.
“Maybe we should talk about this,” Adam suggests.
“What’s there to talk about?” Beth sniffles. She can’t decide whether to be sad or angry. The struggle between her lack of control and her attempt to suppress it is disappointing. I’m embarrassed for her.
“She’s a liar,” Mark says. “She put the whole project at risk.”
“What project? Can someone tell me what’s going on?” I pull my lip between my teeth and suck the blood away. It can be dangerous to ask a question when you already know the answer.
“What the fuck?” Beth inhales deeply. She’s staring at her phone. Her eyes meet mine for a second, and then she looks over at her husband before finally settling on Adam. “You didn’t bother to take her phone?”
Recognition registers on his face.
“She Instalook Live’d from the trunk.”
“Fuck.” Mark runs his hands through his hair. “Where’s the phone?”
“Don’t worry,” Beth says to him. She exhales loudly. “Her location settings appear to be off and thank God I’m an admin on her account. I deleted it.” I watch as she holds up her screen, on it a vague outline of my face. My lips are moving, but nothing is happening. Beth laughs and shakes her head slowly from side to side. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” Beth laughs. “She had the sound off.”
Adam paces. “So what does this mean?”
“It means nothing,” Beth assures him.
“Hey,” I say. “Twenty-thousand people were in queue to watch that.”
“It’s basically just her face in the dark,” Mark says as he glares at Beth’s phone. He shakes his head and then crosses the room. “Twenty-thousand. Unbelievable.” I watch as he fishes a magazine from the coffee table. He holds it up to my face. “Recognize this guy?”
I do recognize that guy. “No,” I say.
“His name is Richard Fisher. Richard is the head pastor of Divine Life.”
“So?”
“So, you slept with him.”
I should say nothing. Silence is rarely misunderstood. Instead, I cock my head. “And?”
“And—Richard Fisher just so happens to be one of our biggest competitors.”
