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“Corbin?” I whispered into the dark room. It was so black with the shades drawn that I could barely see anything. Light from the living room filtered in, but it seemed to get lost in the shadows.
What time was it? Had he tried to wake me? The home was quiet, but I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was very wrong. A heaviness sat on top of everything like a thick blanket, but rather than provide warmth and security, it planned to snuff out the life under it.
And one of those things was me.
I rolled over and reached my hand out, feeling the other side of the bed and finding it empty and cold. Corbin never came to the bedroom to sleep like he promised.
The room was warm, the old air-conditioning unit not able to keep up with the demands of the house even though this part of Maine had a temperate climate even in the summer. I slid out from the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. Lights in the living room were on and I paused in the doorway to have an uninterrupted view.
Corbin sat on the couch in much the same position I’d left him earlier. He had his computer resting on his lap, and the glow from the screen lit up his face. The angles of his face were wrong. Distorted. He resembled the original Corbin. The one who’d been annoyed and irritated me during our first meeting.
It was not the Corbin I’d fallen in love with in less than a week. I leaned forward, getting ready to walk to him and ease his burden, but his head turned, and I saw he had a phone held against his ear. He clutched it tightly and shook his head in firm movements.
Who would he call at such a late hour?
I sucked in a breath, being as quiet as possible to hear what he said without having to breathe.
“I don’t believe you because you have every reason to lie. These images will ruin you, Westley.”
Who was Westley?
What images? Did Corbin successfully unlock the thumb drive and recover the files Sean gave me? He promised twice that he’d wake me up when the files finished.
He listened to the other person, letting the room grow quiet. His frown deepened at whatever the other person said.
“The files don’t lie. Pictures don’t lie, Grandmaster.” He sneered.
Westley was the Grandmaster? Corbin knew him by first name?
I tensed in my hideaway spot, my fingers grabbing onto the trim around the door and squeezing tightly. He saw the files from the thumb drive and didn’t wake me like he promised? He promised. Twice. Two promises. Corbin said I should trust him, but he lied.
Had he always been planning to keep the information from me? Was everything he said the last two days a lie?
My heart thundered so hard in my chest I feared he’d hear it, but when Corbin spoke again, his words were clear. “The chess pieces found at the scenes connect you. This isn’t a game you’re going to win. I’ll personally see that you go under if you don’t pay exactly what I ask for.”
A hand covered my mouth to stop me from yelling out and calling Corbin a traitor. It sounded as if the person on the phone actually was yelling. I hadn’t been able to make out words earlier, but now a steady mumbling sound came from the phone.
I didn’t imagine Corbin had late night talks with many people, and what he said broke my heart. Had he been working with Jack Beamer and the Grandmaster this entire time? Is that how he knew so much about All American Bank?
“I want fifty million and then I’ll make your problems go away. No one will ever see this thumb drive or its contents again.”
I bit my bottom lip, covering a sniffle. Only one man came to mind as someone Corbin might blackmail for money. I’d been wrong to ask him for help. How didn’t I see the signs? What were they? He seemed so sincere. I fell for his game—hook, line, and sinker.
My stomach sank. What about his kind words? Was any part of Corbin true? My heart broke in my chest and I wanted to slide down the wall and cry, but couldn’t give myself away. I’d been strong through everything else life gave me, and I didn’t intend to stop.
Even if it felt as if my entire world ended, and every journey I set for myself after this exploded like a bad fireworks show in my front of my eyes, I’d trusted Corbin. I wanted to believe what he said, but I’d been wrong. I fell for his good looks and personality. Corbin played me spectacularly. I thought I broke through the hard shell of the man I first met, but now I realized it had been a ploy.
He used me to obtain the thumb drive and get what he wanted. Money.
Government contracts and helping poor women weren’t what kept Corbin and Cyrus going but blackmail and extortion. Were any of his stories true?
Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, that he couldn’t stomp on my heart any more, he proved me wrong. Corbin’s next words chilled me to my core. “Let me worry about the girl. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of, and I’ll throw it in at no extra cost to you.”
My brain argued against every single word he said. I tried to come up with logical explanations, but I had none. The pictures were worth fifty million dollars, but my life cost nothing.
I’m a freebie?
“You’ll find that I’m very discreet. I don’t go around throwing fucking chess pieces at every crime scene to link back to me,” Corbin said, his words like ice. They sliced through my skin, causing me to bleed.
