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I lay back down, letting myself remember the rest of the night. We hadn’t stopped. Brett kept taking from my body, and I gave it. Gladly. Completely. I stifled another groan, because my God, he could come back in here, and he’d be able to just slide right inside because I was wet. Then again, this was probably from the last two rounds, as I lay on my stomach and he took me from behind. I’d tried reaching for him, tried bending down so I could suck him, but he wouldn’t let me. He said last night was his feast. I’d get to eat another night, and I was looking forward to that. Images of our very last round flashed in my head as I rode him, rising up over him, and as we watched the other the entire time, neither of us spoke the whole time, and I cursed, knowing, feeling it in my chest—back to my regular programming schedule of terror and murder.
I focused on my phone, seeing there were no new texts or calls. My family was still sleeping, no doubt, like normal people. Whatever had happened, though, I couldn’t wait. There was an itch inside me, and it was growing, becoming more demanding.
Something had happened, something bad.
I slipped out of bed, grabbing the sheet to wrap around me.
Brett’s voice was coming from his office, where he was sitting on his couch, one elbow resting on his knee and his head hanging down.
“What’s he ‘allegedly’ saying then?” His gravelly voice ground out. He waited for their answer before biting out a curse. “Just fucking tell me. Should I listen to it and summarize for her or let her hear it?”
His head lifted, his eyes already guarded.
His mouth turned down. “I’ll call you back.”
Whoever was on the other end protested as he ended the call.
He didn’t tell me anything, just held my gaze, and after a moment, I could see his suffering. He was hurting for me.
I crawled into his lap and took the phone from his hand. He leaned back on the couch, cradling me, as I went through his call history. KIM KINGS PR was at the top.
“Kim is public relations?”
Brett nodded. His neck was stiff. His whole body was rigid under me, but I hit call.
“Billie—”
She answered immediately, her voice filling the room as I hit speaker. “Jesus Christ, Broudou. I’m not calling to ruin your day or Billie’s, but what affects her now affects you, and that affects the team. We’ve taken a stance to support you. I need to know how to proceed. I’m getting calls from the press about this leaked call.”
My heart had sank inside me, but now it swung like a pendulum. “What leaked call?”
There was a beat of silence before she sighed. “Thanks for the heads-up, Broudou.”
Brett pressed his forehead to the back of my shoulder, his hand folding over my stomach. “Just tell her what you told me.”
She hesitated.
“What leaked call?” I asked again.
“There’s a report hitting the news today that the Midwest Butcher took a reporter’s call, and it’s going to be leaked.”
My insides felt wooden. “Leaked?”
“It’s leaked. It hasn’t hit the news yet, but it’s out there.”
“Where?” I grated out.
“Brett?” she asked, a pinch of impatience edging in.
Brett reached around me to take the phone. He brought it closer. “Just tell her, Kim. She’s been dealing with this shit all her life. You’re not going to be the one to break her.”
She was quiet again, and I didn’t know this Kim person, but I wondered how often people talked to her like that.
“It’s on social media,” she said. “Take your pick. You’ll be able to search for it and find it, and it’s going to spread fast. Do you want me to tell you what he said or do you want me to wait for you to listen to it?”
Brett growled behind me. “Just find it and press play. You can listen to it with us.”
I closed my eyes, shutting down in preparation. I was going to hear his voice again. I’d see his face in my mind.
