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There, lining the back of Gunner’s closet door are hundreds of photos, and in each one is Zoe.
Anger surges in me and I step closer, looking at my princess, most photos showing her naked flesh, her expression in different states of contorted ecstasy. Some pictures are cut in half, like I’ve been cut out of them, and others where you can see my face, but have my eyes scratched out with crosses.
“Where the fuck did he get these?” I all but whisper, and Alana’s voice comes from behind me.
“I don’t know, but Tex is trying to get into Gunner’s laptop.”
I nod, still fucking stunned at what I’m seeing.
As my eyes dance from picture to picture, I start recognizing some of the still images. Leaning in closer, I examine one. It’s of Zoe, kneeling, my cock deep in her mouth and it’s not hard for me to pick up where this photo was taken.
It’s from that night when I got her to suck my dick after she came home drunk. The bet Gunner and I made is still fresh in my mind and I remember how determined I was to win.
The next day, both Zoe and I received a video of our time out behind her pool house. We didn’t know who had sent it, but now, as I find another still image from another one of the videos we received, I’m left with no other conclusion but the sender was my best fucking friend.
What the fuck, Gunner.
Fuck!
I wish that motherfucker was still alive. I want to beat the ever-loving shit out of him right fucking now. I feel cheated that he’s already dead. He fucking deserves to die by my hand.
“Where’s Tex?” I hiss, spinning to face Alana who is still wiping tears from her eyes.
“In the back room.” She steps out of my way, and I barge past her.
“Take the pictures down and burn them.”
She rushes out an “okay”, but I’m already halfway out the door, my mind set on seeing what Gunner has on his laptop.
I don’t know what good it will do other than torture me some more, but I need to know for sure the person sending the videos was him. Then, at least, I can be sure it’s over and done with.
Some of the men are here starting to clean up the rubble and tossing the trash in the dumpster I ordered. Our insurance has approved to cover the cost of the repairs, so contractors will start work in a few days, and soon enough, we’ll have our clubhouse back.
Pushing to open the door to the back room that doubles as our poker room, Tex glances up from an open laptop as his fingers fly across the keys.
“That Gunner’s?” I ask and he nods.
“Wasn’t hard to get into. The password was easy.”
My eyes darken and my lip curls. “What was it?”
“Zoe69,” Tex mutters like he doesn’t want to be the bearer of that fucking sick joke.
With my fist balled, I spin and slam it into the plaster, reveling in the pain that shoots through my knuckles and up to my wrist on impact. “FUCK!”
“You need to see this,” Tex states, not the least bit concerned about my outburst, so I take a moment to get my fucking breathing under control before I turn and march his way.
Looking over his shoulder, I see the file folder open on the screen, and in it are an array of videos and photographs.
“Open the first video,” I snap, and Tex follows my order, clicking on it before it starts playing.
There, on the screen is me on stage at Dirty Diamonds, looking murderous as I snarl at Zoe.
Shit. This is the video of me forcing Zoe to suck me off at gunpoint.
My fucking gut rolls with disgust at myself, and I slam the fucking laptop shut.
Why would he do this?
