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I note the shock on her face, watch it wash away like ocean waves on a sandy shore and leave ripples of betrayal in the sand beneath.
“She didn’t sell you out,” I say, pulling out the chair across from her and taking a seat. “She wasn’t complicit,” I go on, knowing that must have been her first thought. “Hallie doesn’t know I used her phone to text you.”
Charity shakes her head, her face etched in lines of disgust. “I’m leaving.”
She turns to get her purse, but I stop her with a dismissive, “No, you’re not.”
She looks at me, bug-eyed and angry. “Yes, I am.”
I ignore her and drop my briefcase on the table. I see her slow down and watch me open it.
Curiosity gets the best of her. “What are you doing?”
I draw out the second Charity folder, the one Hallie doesn’t know about. “You and I have a few things in common. Other things, not so much.”
“Spare me the monologue, all right? I just want to know—”
“For instance, we both love Hallie.” I look at her. “Right?”
I can see that she doesn’t enjoy being lumped into the same category with me, even if that’s the one. “I do. You don’t. You’re some sicko who’s weirdly obsessed with her, but that’s not love.”
I roll my eyes and echo her own words back to her. “Spare me the monologue, please.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, full of attitude. “Is this the villain-hero showdown? Winner takes Hallie?”
“No.” But I smile, liking her melodrama. “I take Hallie no matter what, and there are no heroes here.” To emphasize my point, I place the Charity blackmail packet down on the table. The corner hits the plate and knocks one of the tiny toasts onto the table. “See, that’s one of the glaring differences between us.” I meet her gaze. “I know what I am. You? You’re a bit deluded.”
Laugh-scoffing at my audacity, she says, “I’mthe deluded one?”
“Yes,” I say calmly, opening the folder so she can see the contents.
Her face falls instantly. Then it pales, and she sinks back down into the chair. I watch her swallow, grabbing at the paper and pushing the top one aside to see the photograph underneath.
She cringes.
“Where did you get these?” she asks quietly.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I have them. That they exist in the first place.” I spread out the photos so she can see the one beneath it. “As if it wasn’t bad enough to have sloppy sex with your best friend’s moronic boyfriend…” I lift thepiece de resistance—a copy of a medical form she had to sign when she left the abortion clinic. “You didn’t know if it was his or Tyler’s, did you?”
Her eyes fill with tears. She swallows and glares up at me. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
“I know,” I say almost sympathetically. “Now, I don’t want to use any of this, but I will. I’ll show Hallie everything—the texts, the pictures, the paperwork… I’ll show it all to her if you make me to get you out of her life.”
She shakes her head miserably and angrily dashes away a tear that betrays her by falling.
“But I don’t want that. That will cause Hallie immense pain. She loves you, and I would like for you to stay in her life because that’s what she wants.” I lean down over the table so she feels me near and her gaze shoots back to me. “And I will always look out for Hallie.”
She sniffles and her nose twitches. She wants to be defensive, but she knows I have her nuts in a vise.
I withdraw from my intimidating stance—I don’t need it anymore—and take a seat across from her. “However, the only way you’ll be able to stay in her life is if you don’t pose a threat to me. She hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet, but Hallie is pregnant. We’re getting married. We’re having a baby. I am here to stay, same as you. So, we will have to learn to live with each other.”
Charity shakes her head. “She won’t believe this. I know you’re a psychologically abusive prick who is willing to stoop to murder; she’ll never believe I just decided not to care.”
“She will because she knows I’m blackmailing you.” My hand is playing out well enough; I decide to up the ante. “I blackmailed her with it to begin with. It’s how I got her to spend more time with me. If she didn’t, I would send the other Charity packet I have to Tyler—the one where you fucked that bartender the night before your wedding. There’s a flash drive and everything. Anyway, she was perfectly willing to cover your ass and sacrifice her own to save your marriage. I told her I would use that to keep you from sniffing around things that could get you killed.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asks lowly.
“Not with murder, no. I won’t kill you, but my friends might if you keep looking into things you shouldn’t.”
