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Gretchen went to her bag and pulled out a crumpled picture. She threw it at him, and he bent to retrieve it from where it fluttered to the floor. His stomach knotted as he stared at the picture of him and Ronnie. It had been taken a night about a year ago at her penthouse in Miami. He hadn’t known there was a camera.
“Baby, that’s not—”
She shoved him again, her face only a breath from his. “Don’t you tell me that’s not you.” Tears filled her eyes. “I know your body, and that is your body.”
He couldn’t deny it. “It’s old. That didn’t happen last night. I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
She glared back at him, her eyes black and shuttered. Any trust she’d had in him was now destroyed. He swallowed as that realization set in.
“And I suppose you didn’t tell her last night that I’m a tart who means nothing to you?”
He stared back at her, his chest suddenly too tight to breathe comfortably. She was never supposed to hear that.
She smirked when he didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought. That’s what they made me listen to as I stared at that fucking picture with a knife at my throat.”
He moved toward her again, determined to have her in his arms.
“Don’t touch me.” He hadn’t known her capable of the fury contained in her low voice. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.”
He stepped back. He might not touch her now, but hewoulddo so again.
“Who did it?” His voice took on a lethal tone reserved for Carlisle’s most pressing problems.
She went back to her bag and pulled out two pictures and a flash drive. She handed over the pictures and he took them. He knew these men. He’d seen them when he came in tonight.
Finn looked into her eyes. “Where’d you get this?”
“My apartment’s rigged with motion cameras. It’s how my partner got to me in time.” She shrugged, but her façade had started to crack.
Bile rose in his throat.
“Maybe you and Ronnie will enjoy the show.”
“I had nothing to do with this, you can’t think—”
“You had everything to do with it.” Her ragged voice broke. “All of your protection made her think you cared more about me than you do. You should’ve let everyone know you didn’t give a shit about me. It would’ve made things a hell of a lot easier for me.”
“You can’t believe I don’t care.” Even if she didn’t know he was in love with her, she couldn’t deny he’d always cared about her.
“You’re like a little boy with a fucking toy,” she accused with a humorless laugh. “You don’t give a shit about it. You just don’t want anybody else to touch it.”
“Umm, Lilah, five,” the DJ interrupted reluctantly from the other side of the curtain.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“You arenotgoing out there,” Finn ordered.
“I still have a job to do,” she warned, lowering her voice. “And I don’t mean the dancing. Don’t try to stop me. That bitch and her crew are going down, and I don’t give a shit if you’re in my way. The rules of the game have changed drastically.”
Before Finn could stop her, she disappeared onto the stage.
~ ~ ~
Finn wanted to pull his gaze away from the screen, but he wouldn’t. He forced himself to watch Gretchen’s attack, the same way those bastards had forced her to endure it. Rage washed over him and drowned him in waves of anger with no hope of relief. He’d only known fury like this when his mother had been killed, and now, like then, someone would pay.
And yet, even through the fury, he had to admire Gretchen. She met the eyes of her attackers with her chin up and her spine erect. When anyone else would have given up, Gretchen glared back and spit at their feet. Even when one of them yanked her head back and shoved the picture in her already bruising face, she called them cowards. She was a fucking warrior. Which was why when she listened to him say she was nothing to him, and her mask crumbled and her sobs escaped, his heart plummeted to his stomach with such force he was almost sick.
Finally, when the recording stopped, he yanked out the drive. He resisted the urge to crush it in his fist as he stood. Instead, he forced himself to breathe deeply and fight for the calm he could always find when dealing with Carlisle’s problems. This was different though. This wasn’t Carlisle’s problem, it washisproblem,hiswoman, and he had to make the bastards who’d hurt her pay.
