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Where the fuck is she?
My phone goes off. I answer immediately.
“Talk.”
“Yo, boss man!” Charlie says. He sounds funny, like he’s nervous.
“I need this line clear,” I snap at him. “In case Eden calls.”
“Actually, it’s about Eden.”
“What? Have you heard something?”
“Um…”
“Spit it out.”
“I’ll send you a link. The pictures are everywhere. TMZ got a hold of them and now…”
“What fucking pictures?”
No sooner do I say this does a text message with a hyperlink come through. I click on it and…
My blood runs cold.
Pictures. Dozens of them. Of me and Eden in my pool. The quality is in high definition, so I can clearly make out our faces. It’s very obvious that we’re naked together, kissing, embracing,fucking.
Annabeth gasps when she sees my screen, a hand flying to her face. “Hunter! What the fuck? Are you and my daughter—”
“Shit,” I hiss. “Fuck.”
I don’t even know where to begin. I’m so fucking angry I want to put my fist through a wall. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. If I ever find out who took these pictures, I swear to God, I’ll tear them limb from limb. I don’t even care what the headlines are going to say about me at this point. All I care about is Eden and what this means for her, her future.
She’ll be ruined.
Sheisruined.
All because of me.
How the photographer managed to sneak close enough for these shots, I’ll never know. It feels suspicious. The timing is impeccable. The day I’m seen carrying Eden to the hospital is also the day these pictures surface? I don’t believe in coincidences. This is deliberate. Someone was sitting on these pictures waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Hunter,” Annabeth says carefully. “What’s going on? Are you seeing Eden?”
My mouth is dry. The truth is finally out, but in the worst possible way.
“Yes,” I say gruffly.
“For how long?”
“A few months. Since she started working for me.”
Annabeth isn’t as mad as I first thought she’d be. She isn’t screaming, which I take as a good sign. Or maybe it’s theworstsign, like the calm before a disastrous storm. “She’s half your age, Hunter.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Is it serious?”
“I…” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know.”
