Chapter Four
Melinda
“What do you mean, he’s in my office right now? What the fuck is he doing there?” I raise my voice at Sarah and immediately feel guilty. I know she’s only trying to help, but at the moment, it’s has the opposite effect.
“Jesus, Mel. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m so frustrated right now. Between my brother, Sam, and Mason, I have absolutely no privacy. I feel violated.”
“That’s because you have been violated. What the hell are they looking for? I don’t get it.”
“They all believe there’s more to the story. I don’t know why,” I lie. “I simply needed some friggin’ space, so I went for a run. Why can’t they understand that?”
“Well, then, you have nothing to worry about. They’ll back off as soon as they realize that’s all there is to it. Now, can we get to something more important?”
“Yes, anything to get my mind off of this crap.” I laugh.
“Why didn’t you tell me Mason Tanner is as hot as fuck? Like super model hot, dirty hot, rugged hot. Why didn’t you give me a head’s-up?” she shrieks into the phone.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I lie yet again. “I think he’s a complete prick.” This time I don’t lie at all.
“Oh, come on, Mel. You know that guy is smoking hot. You’d have to be dead not to notice.”
“All I see is a relentless asshole who needs to get out of my life asap,” I reply in exasperation as I remember the jolts of electricity that shot through me when he helped me out of the car.
“Well, when you do take notice, you’ll see how right I am. I’d love to get him in bed. I tried flirting with him but he didn’t take the bait.”
“You are a minx.” I smile for a short moment. “Maybe he’s gay.”
“I don’t think so. I think he’s super serious and not interested in my flirtations.”
“Well, then, he’s an idiot.”
“I’ll text you when he leaves.”
“Thanks. I’ll be working from home for a while. Doctor’s orders are to not leave the house for a few days.” I sigh, not liking the directions I’ve been given.
“I’ve got it covered here. You rest. Your body has been through so much. You need to heal.”
“You know I hate sitting still. This feels like torture.” I twirl a strand of hair through my fingers.
“It will be over before you know it. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay,” I respond and my thoughts return to the night in the park. Why didn’t they simply take the money and run? What did beating the crap out of me solve? What do they gain? Was it planned, or did they do it spur of the moment? I thought paying the ransom would end this nightmare. Instead, it’s opened an entirely new can of worms. One being Mason Tanner. Ugh. That guy is will grate on my nerves while he’s here. Why can’t he mind his own business and leave me the hell alone.
I jump when there’s a knock at my door. Why didn’t the bellman call me before sending someone up?
Annoyed, I pull the door open and find no one. Peering out, I look down the hallway for any sign of who could have knocked on my door. As I step forward, my foot kicks a small box on my doorstep. What the fuck? Fear courses through my body and my hands begin to tremble. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I have a very bad feeling about this. I have a gut instinct that I don’t want to see what’s inside this box. I lean down to pick it up with my good arm, but I tremble so badly, I can’t seem to grasp it. Tears sting my eyes and my fear grows.
“Melinda?” I jump at the sound of my name and turn quickly to shut my front door as fear grips my chest.
“Hey, now, it’s okay,” the voice says as it reaches me.
I must look like a crazed woman, standing there motionless without a word, with tears brimming in my eyes.
“Melinda, can you hear me? Say something.” The moment his hand touches my skin, the familiar sizzle of electricity jolts through me. He turns me toward him and his eyes search mine as I continue to tremble. Panic kicks in as I realize Mason could actually discover the truth of my situation.
“I’m…I’m…fine,” I barely manage.
“Let’s get you inside.” Mason nods his head to motion me forward into my apartment and picks the box up as he follows me inside. He helps me to the couch, where I curl my feet under me and try to steady myself.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks as he places a blanket over my lap.
I shake my head, unwilling to allow the words to slip out of my mouth for fear they’ll betray me in my vulnerability. He takes a seat next to me.
“Melinda, the only way I can help you is if you’re honest with me. I’m not here to complicate your life. I’m here to help. Can you be real with me?”
I stare at him but the words I want to say are stuck in my throat.
“You can trust me,” he urges. “I know you don’t know me from Adam, but I won’t do anything to hurt you. I know you’re hiding something—something that terrifies you—and you’re trying to handle it on your own. I get it. However, it could take some of the burden off of you if you share it with me.”
I so desperately want to believe him. I want to confide in him, but whenever I trust a man, it backfires on me. He’s no different. The only men in my life I can trust are my dad, Ryan, and Sam. I have no reason to share my dilemma with him. I shake my head.
“If you can’t trust me, you can at least trust Sam’s judgement. You know he would never send anyone he didn’t trust completely.”
He has a point. Sam’s like another brother to me. We met when I dated his roommate years ago. Another mistake on my part, but I did walk away with Sam’s friendship and it’s something I treasure. Sam would never send anyone he didn’t trust, yet I’m so afraid to reveal my secret.
“Melinda?”
I snap out of my thoughts and focus on Mason. He really is as hot as fuck. I was merely too pissed off to notice it before. The most extraordinary amber eyes are fixed on mine. They remind me of autumn with their brown and gold color combination. Chiseled cheekbones accentuate his striking face as dark stubble shadows his angular jaw. His hair is light brown and slightly long in length. Damn, he really is sexy.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t.”
I glare at him. “You just told me I could trust you. Now you’re telling me I don’t know if I can?”
“You won’t know until I prove it to you. That’s how trust works.”
“I’m scared,” I admit and turn my face so I don’t have to look at him.
“I understand. I really do.” He takes my good hand in his and that damn electricity surges again. He doesn’t show any signs of feeling it so it’s probably only me.
I turn back to him and dig deep inside. “I’m being blackmailed,” I whisper, the words barely audible.
Mason moves closer to me on the couch.
“Go on,” he encourages me as his thumb rubs the top of my hand gently.
“I’m so scared of this getting out,” I admit. “The day I was mugged, I was meeting someone in the park with a backpack full of money. I had no idea they would beat the shit out of me. I had no idea “they” were a “they.” I thought I would meet one person, give them the money, and all this would go away.”
“That’s not how blackmail works,” he says gently.
“I figured that out.”
“What do they have on you?”
I inhale swiftly. How can I let him know the truth?
“It’s okay,” his thumb still rubs the top of my hand.
“Pictures,” is all I can manage by way of explanation.
“What kind of pictures?”
Fuck. I don’t want to do this, but it seems I’m at the point of no return.
“Pictures of me having sex with my ex-fiancée,” I blurt out. Ashamed, I bury my face in the back cushion of the couch.
“Hey.” He lifts my face with his hand. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Those pictures are a violation of your privacy. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Tears spill over and stream down my cheeks, “I can’t let them get out. It will ruin me.”
“Then we won’t let them get out. Do you have any thoughts on who the mastermind is behind this?”
“I really haven’t thought about it. I have been a little indisposed.” I lift up my arm that’s in the sling.
“True,” he says and rubs his chin with his fingers, “Were all the pictures taken in the same place? Did you happen to notice?”
“Oh, my God! I didn’t even think about that until you said something.” My voice is high-pitched as fear takes hold. “They were all in my bed.”
Mason
“Breathe Melinda,” I coax her as I watch her grapple with the gravity of her situation. “Look at me. breathe in deeply through your nose and out through your mouth…that’s it. Good girl.”
Her fingernails dig into my arm as she regains control of her breathing.
“Someone’s taking pictures of me in my own house? Oh, my God, what if they have pictures of Emily?” Her voice shakes as the realization hits home.
“Show me your room,” I command with a steady voice to keep her as calm as possible.
I stand and reach out my hand to help her up. She takes it, and that jolt of electricity is there again. Dammit. Her eyes search mine as if she’s felt it too, but now is not the time to let her know it’s reciprocal.
“This way,” she says shakily.
I follow her down a long corridor and past multiple doors until the last door on the left. She opens it to her bedroom, and it’s exactly like I thought it would be. Plush, feminine, and sensuous, the room is filled with soft grays and whites, with hints of silver.
“I don’t want to go in,” she says from the doorway.
“Okay. Stay there. I’ll have a look around.”
I take my time examining the large bedroom. I know exactly what I’m looking for and have a feeling it’ll be tied to her television. Only she doesn’t have a television in her bedroom, so that totally shoots down my theory.
“No TV?” I ask and look over my shoulder at her standing in the threshold.
“I don’t watch TV,” she responds, her voice vulnerable with fear.
I continue my inspection and stop at a picture frame on her dresser.
“Have you always had this frame here?”
“I’ve always had the picture there. It’s me the day I arrived in New York. I never wanted to forget that feeling of coming here to make my dream come true. The frame was a gift I received a few years back. I don’t even remember who gave it to me. It was given to me as a hostess gift and there was no card with it.”
“What made you put it here?” I ask as I search for any indication of a recording device.
“It matched my room beautifully. It was as if the person who gave it to me had been in my room before. I knew I wanted the picture of me arriving in New York in it. It’s perfect.”
“It’s perfect all right. It’s also a recording device,” I tell her as I break open the back of the frame and find exactly what I’m looking for.
“What?” she shrieks.
“Calm down. Let me get this turned off. It’s motion activated.”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
“Melinda, I need you to breathe right now.” She’s clearly freaked out, as she should be, but I need to shut this thing down before I can comfort her. It takes me less than thirty seconds to stop the device from recording.
“Okay, I’ve turned it off.” I turn to look at her as she slides down the doorframe to the floor.
“Melinda!” I rush to her as she hits the floor with a thud. Kneeling in front of her, I take her face in my hands.
“Melinda, look at me,” I instruct her. “That’s it. Focus on me right now, okay? You’re safe with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I instinctively brush the hair away from her face. Damn, she’s beautiful, even with her black eyes. “Thatta girl.”
“I-I…I don’t want to be here,” she stammers. Fear and pain are evident in her eyes.
“Then let’s get you out of here. I’ll call Harry, okay?” She nods but doesn’t say a word.
I reach for my phone and press the driver’s number.
“Harry, it’s Mason. Listen, we need you at Melinda’s apartment asap. Back door. How fast can you be here?” I pause so he can answer. “Okay, we’ll be down then.”
“Look at me,” I instruct her again. She’s clearly in shock. “Harry’s on his way and will be here in fifteen minutes. I need you to pack a bag. Can you do that for me? I’ll look around the rest of your place to see if I find anything else.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” she says, barely audible.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise you, you’re safe with me. I also need you to call Emily and tell her not to come home tonight, okay?”
She nods. I’m not sure if she’s computing everything, but right, now I really need her to focus on the tasks I’ve given her.
“I’m going to help you up, okay?”
She’s unsteady when I help her to her feet and clearly shaken. I wrap her in my arms and pull her close. Her good arm wraps around me instinctively as she leans her head on my chest.
“I’m so scared.” She sobs into my chest. I take a deep breath as the scent of her invades my senses. Holy fuck, she’s intoxicating.
“Melinda?”
“Yes,” she says through sniffles.
“I need you to dig deep right now so we can get out of here, okay? Dig into the inner bitch you have when you’re shooting daggers at me.”
She snorts. “You noticed.”
“It’s hard not to notice when someone absolutely loathes the sight of you.”
I step back and remove her arm from around my waist as I do so.
“Okay?” I ask before I release her hand.
“Okay,” she says and takes a step back from me.
“I’ll look around the apartment. Where is Emily’s room?”
Her eyes grow wide with fear. “The second door on the right.” She points down the hallway.
“Go get your things and call Emily,” I instruct her.
I stride down the hall to Emily’s room. My mind goes a million miles an hour. I swear, if someone violated her like they’ve done Melinda, I’ll lose my shit. I inspect her room as well as I can with the little time I have and don’t find anything, thank God. Tomorrow, I’ll come back and go over the rest of the apartment.
“Please tell me there wasn’t anything in there.”
“I didn’t find anything but I’ll come back tomorrow to check the rest of the place. Right now, we need to get you out of here.” I take her bag and place her hand in mine. The sizzle flares when our hands connect. We glance quickly at each other and I lead her into the family room. The small cardboard box sits on the coffee table.
“We need to bring that.” I nod toward the box. She groans and I pick it up and place it inside her bag.
“We need to see what’s inside and also if it gives us any clues.”
“I don’t want to see what’s inside.” She shakes her head vehemently.
“I know. But you have to be strong right now. Don’t give them power over you.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you’re not the one who’s been recorded for God knows how long,” she bites back at me.
I take it, knowing she’s upset.
“Let’s go.”
I pull the door to her apartment open and check the hallway before we step out. We’ll take the employee elevator again and Pete waits for us at the end of the hall.
“Thanks for meeting us.”
“No problem at all, Mr. Tanner. Ms. Morgan.” He nods.
“Hi, Pete. Thank you,” she says. Her voice sounds steadier. “Are there still reporters out front?”
“Yes. They’re all vultures in my opinion.”
I take her hand in mine and squeeze it for reassurance.
“Pete, did you let anyone up to Ms. Morgan’s apartment this afternoon?”
“What? No! Of course not. No one gets into this building or to anyone’s apartment without being on the guest list. Why?”
“Ms. Morgan had a package delivered to her doorstep earlier today.”
“Is that so? Well, I can have security pull the video to see who dropped it off.”
“Get me that information as soon as possible, Pete.”
“Yes sir.” He nods.
We arrive at ground level and head to the back entrance. I peek my head out and see the black SUV. Harry gets out when he sees the door open. He opens the back passenger door so we can get Melinda in unnoticed. Just as she steps out the back door, a bright flash goes off.
“Ms. Morgan, how are you feeling? Do you know who attacked you? Ms. Morgan, any comment on Nathanial?” the reporter continues to pester her as I give Harry Melinda’s hand and he leads her quickly to the car.
I step in front of the slimy reporter. “You’ll not have a word with Ms. Morgan, understand?”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am. Get the fuck out of here,” I roar.
For a minute, he looks like he might try to get around me and closer to Melinda in the SUV, but then his rational side must have decided against it when he saw the look in my eye. I’d murder him with my bare hands if I could get away with it, and he knows it.
“Fuck you!” he shouts and spits at my feet.
I lunge at him and grab him by the shirt collar.
“Let go of me!” he shouts. “This is assault.”
I bring him up to his tip toes by the collar of his shirt. Fear is evident in his eyes.
“If you get within so much as fifty feet of Ms. Morgan again, you can bet your ass you’ll land yourself in the hospital. Understand?”
“I’ll have you arrested for assault and threatening me,” he says, visibly shaken.
“Try it. I’m an attorney. You’ll never win, you scumbag. Now get the fuck out of here.” I shove him backward and he stumbles to regain his balance.
“Fuck you!” His vocabulary is about as articulate as mine. I chuckle as I turn, not giving him another second of my time.
“Are you okay?” I can hear the concern in her voice as I climb into the backseat beside her.
“I’m fine. You?”
“I’m fine. A little shaky but I’m fine.” Relief floods her voice.
“Harry, to my place please.” He nods at me in the rearview mirror. “Do you know that guy?” I ask and turn my attention back to Melinda.
“I’ve never seen him before in my life. I’ve learned to ignore them over the years. Especially the ones who tend to linger outside my building.”
I nod. “He shouldn’t bother you again. If he does, I’ll handle it.”
“Thank you,” she whispers and her eyes brim with tears. I reach across the seat and squeeze her hand to reassure her. She responds with the same gesture. Ten minutes later, Harry drives around the back of my hotel. He has made arrangements with the concierge and given strict orders that no one is to know Ms. Morgan will be staying here for a while. He does a couple of laps around a few blocks to make sure we aren’t followed. Harry’s climbing higher and higher on my people I can trust list. It’s a short list, so he’s made quite an impression. When he’s happy, he pulls up as close to the back door as possible and I step out the car.
“Mr. Tanner, sir. I’m Theo, here to assist.”
I hand him Melinda’s bag. “Thank you. I assume you understand the privacy of this matter?”
“Yes, sir. It’s all been explained. You have our complete cooperation. I’ll give you my personal cell phone, as well as our manager’s, Mr. Stephens, as soon as we get you settled, sir.”
I nod, turn to the car, and reach out my hand so Melinda can take hold of it. She wears dark sunglasses to hide her bruises as best she can. Her hand feels fragile in mine as I help her out and is clearly shaken over today’s events. I can’t blame her. So much has unfolded in the last hour, I’m impressed by the confidence she has managed to hold on to.
“Ready?” I ask and squeeze her hand. She responds with a similar gesture.
“If you’ll follow me,” Theo says and motions to the door. Once inside, he leads us to a freight elevator.
“This will ensure your privacy. It’s used by only a few employees with the highest ranking. Your privacy is important to us.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Harry says from behind us. “You have my number if you need anything.”
I shake his hand. “Thank you.”
With a nod of his head, he turns and heads outside.
I take Melinda’s hand again. She grasps mine to steady herself. The elevator moves upward with a jolt and we stumble before we find our balance again.
“It’s not used very often, so it’s a little stiff.” Theo chuckles before getting back to business. “You’ve also been upgraded to a two-bedroom suite as requested. All your belongings have been moved there, Mr. Tanner.”
“Thank you, Theo.”
“My pleasure. If you’ll follow me.”
The elevator stops, and we file out and down a long corridor. He opens the suite door and gestures for us to enter before him. The suite is enormous and extremely plush, decorated with elegance, and the views are like something out of a movie. Floor-length windows overlook Central Park and the New York City skyline.
I hand him a hundred-dollar bill. “Thanks again.” He hands me a small piece of paper with his cell phone number, as well as the manager’s number and that of Anthony, another concierge.
“Anthony and I will be at your service twenty-four seven, sir. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to us at any time.”
I nod my understanding and walk him to the door. When he leaves, I turn to find Melinda staring out at Central Park.
“Can I get you anything?”
She turns slowly toward me and studies me before speaking. “Is it too early for a drink?” she half smiles after she says it.
“Not under these circumstances. What would you like?”
“A glass of something big and bold. Maybe it will help me to stop feeling like a victim.” She turns back to the windows, lost in her own thoughts.
I leave her be as I know she needs time to process everything that’s happened today—if that’s even possible.
The kitchen has a full stocked wine fridge in and I decide on a bottle of Papillon by Orin Swift. You can never go wrong with a red by good old Orin, in my opinion. I pour two glasses and walk to the living room. Melinda hasn’t moved in the time I’ve been gone.
“Here,” I say gently and hold the glass of wine out to her.
She turns slowly and takes the glass from me.
“Cheers,” she says sarcastically. “To my entire life blowing up in my face.”
“I won’t cheers to that,” I say and place my hand on her arm so she can’t take a sip of her wine. “How about cheers to you being safe instead?”
She smiles weakly, holds her glass up to chink with mine, and takes a long, slow sip. I study her carefully, alert for any signs that she might break. Her back is rigid and her jaw set tight as she turns her attention back to Central Park.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever look at the park the same way again.”
Melinda
I feel out of my body and oddly detached. Here I am in The Plaza Hotel overlooking Central Park with a man I barely know and trust him to keep me safe from all the dangers that now knock on my door. The thought of a camera in my room for God knows how long sends shivers up my spine and makes me want to vomit. I feel violated and exposed. Who the hell would want to record me? I can’t think of anyone who could be an enemy.
“Why don’t you sit?” his voice tears me from my thoughts. Only a few days ago, the mere sight of this man enraged me. Now, I find myself seeking safety in him, which scares the living hell out of me.
I turn slowly, unsure of myself, which isn’t a feeling I’m accustomed to. I’ve always been confident, sure of who I am, and never cared about what others thought of me. Now, I feel unstable, self-conscious, and wary of whom to trust. I sit on the comfy chair in the living room and curl my legs under me.
“How long will I stay here?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
“That depends. I’ll get back to your apartment tomorrow and do a thorough search. Did you contact Emily?”
“Yes, she’ll stay with some friends for a few nights. I didn’t give her the full details because I didn’t want to freak her out.”
He nods.
“Did you tell my brother?” My voice breaks at the end of the question.
“I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Thank you.” I take another sip of my wine. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
Mason looks at me over the top of his wine glass. “We may not be able to keep this under wraps for long. I’ll do my best, but most blackmailers will push you for more money, or they’ll expose you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I can’t let this get out. It will destroy my career.”
“Having sex in a relationship isn’t illegal.” I look at her and see fear in her eyes.
“I know that. It’s some of the things I did during sex that I don’t want to get out.” I can’t believe I said that to him. My cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Well, now I’m intrigued,” he teases and a slow smile plays on his lips.
“My sexual preferences aren’t anyone’s business, including yours,” I snap at him.
He places his wine on the coffee table and holds his two hands up in surrender.
“Whoa there, hellcat. I was only teasing.”
“Well, don’t. My life is a fucking disaster right now. It’s unraveling around me and there’s nothing I can do about it.” I blow out a breath in frustration.
“That’s where I come in. I will do my best to fix it before any of this gets out.” He picks up his wine and looks sexy as hell doing it. For fuck’s sake, Melinda, get a grip. You go from hating this guy to thinking he’s sexy in five seconds flat, I admonish myself.
“I need to see what’s in the box,” he says and completely knocks the wind out of my sails.
“No,” I answer matter of factly.
He stands abruptly and runs his hand through his hair. When he turns toward me, his eyes flare.
“I get that you don’t like me. I get that you don’t completely trust me, But I have a job to do and I can’t do it unless you cooperate. Understand?”
And here comes my contempt for him again.
“What if I don’t cooperate?”
“Are you always this big a pain in the ass?”
“How dare you?” I yell at him.
He draws in a long, rasped breath and releases it slowly. “If you don’t want this thing to blow up in your face, you’ll cooperate. If you don’t, I’m sure your blackmailers will be happy to have your pictures go viral in no time at all. Think of all the money they can make off Melinda Morgan and her sexual exploits.”
My jaw drops open. The mother fucker hit me where it hurts and he knows it.
I close my mouth, determined to not give him the satisfaction of a reply. I chug the rest of my wine and pour myself another glass. At least I can numb myself for a little while.
“Melinda”—he sounds like he’s trying to reel in his temper—“you have to deal with this. It won’t go away.” His jaw is clenched and his words are clipped.
“I want it all to go away. I want to wake up from this nightmare and have it be simply that, a nightmare.”
“Unfortunately, this is your reality right now.” His voice is softer as he looks at me.
“I know.” I hate the sound of defeat in my own voice. “where’s my bag?”
“In your bedroom.”
I lift my eyebrow in query.
“You have your own bedroom here. It’s upstairs.” He points upward with his finger.
“I’ll grab the box,” I concede, not at all happy about it. I can feel him watching me as I go reluctantly upstairs.
I walk slowly back downstairs with the box in my hand and a feeling of doom in my stomach. This won’t be good, is the only thought that runs through my head.
“I don’t want you to see it,” I confess and heat rises to my cheeks. I’m sure I’m crimson by how hot my entire body feels.
“I don’t have to. I merely need to know what’s in it. If you can take a look and tell me, that will be enough.”
I open the box cautiously and brace myself for the impact of what’s inside. Another USB—big surprise. I can only imagine what’s on it this time. More intimate pictures of me with Nathanial, no doubt.
I tremble a little as I open my laptop and insert the flash drive. Seconds—which feel like hours—pass as my quick time app opens with a video. I press play despite the feeling of dread at the base of my stomach.
The video begins, and I notice it’s my bedroom. Two minutes in is when my entire world shifts. I can’t breathe as the video continues to play.
“No,” I cry out and try to catch my breath. Mason stands but I hold up my hand to tell him to stop.
I want to vomit. Swallowing hard to suppress the urge, my eyes stay glued to the video. I can’t believe what I’m watching. It’s the ultimate betrayal. Memories of that night flood in. Eight months into our relationship, Nathanial convinced me to go to a rave with him. I didn’t want to go as I knew the things that went on there. He continued to press me, so I reluctantly agreed.
We wound up having a great time and danced and laughed to the booming electronic music. I let myself enjoy the music, danced freely, and didn’t worry about what anyone thought of me. Nathanial was with me, and I knew he’d keep me safe.
Things became fuzzy after I downed a bottle of water Nathanial had brought to me on the dance floor. Forty minutes after that, a strange sensation washed over me. I felt euphoric. The music pumped through my veins and I couldn’t my smile seemed eternal. Touching Nathanial was sensual, as if all my senses were on high alert. He said it was time to go, so we did. I felt so happy, I sang and danced our entire walk home with a large grin on my face.
When we reached my apartment, Nathanial talked me into things I had never tried before. He convinced me to experiment with being tied up and spanked, among other things. These weren’t things I would have usually done, but the sensations that rushed through my body had me willing and open to anything.
“Holy fuck,” I say softly and start trembling. I run to the kitchen sink and throw up. The red wine burns the back of my throat as it expels. If this gets out, I will be ruined. Everything I have worked so hard for will go up in flames. My reputation will be shattered. I have worked tirelessly at building my image and it could all be taken away if this is leaked to the press.
My shoulders begin to shake as tears stream down my cheeks. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I walk back to my laptop, rip the USB out of it, and throw it against the wall. And that’s when I crack. All the fractures that have been crept into my foundation over the last week finally break me wide open.