How long had this been going on? How long had he been cheating?She hated that he was so certain, so unaffected. She couldn’t see his indecision, couldn’t feel the pull of his conscience. It was present but her hurt outweighed it all.
She laughed, a sarcastic, fed up snicker as she shook her head, but she didn’t say another word. She turned and left him standing there in the middle of the living room.
Lauren had never been the type to do what she was doing now. Snooping. Hacking. Torturing herself with access to a man’s private files. Yet, here she was, letting her insecurities take her down a rabbit hole of searching for validation. She sat at her computer, staring at proof of Demi’s infidelity. His predictable iCloud password on her MacBook had pulled up the evidence of his affair.
Videos of the two of them in bed together. Pictures of the woman who had ruined her family. The fucking dog he had given to their son.
This dirty-ass nigga, Lauren thought. The discovery of this was worse than his admission of guilt.She’s touching him. She’s all over him.
Tears blurred her vision as she watched the homemade sex tape. The fact that he was comfortable enough to film himself with another woman. The things he did to her. The things he said. She didn’t know which part was worse. Lauren was gutted. Fifteen years and Demi had never touched her the way he was touching this girl. It was four o’clock in the morning and Lauren had been in this same seat for hours. She remembered seeing the girl on Day’s story after the talent showcase. She had stolen the show.
Demi’s sleeping with his artist,she thought.
Lauren would be damned if she would let a bitch come up off her pain without repercussions. She logged into Demi’s company Instagram account, and without thinking twice, she uploaded the video. Then, she changed the password so that Demi wouldn’t be able to take it down.
“Bitch,” she whispered, slamming the laptop closed.
“Charlie! Wake up!”
Stassi’s voice and the banging at her room door forced Charlie from her restless sleep. She had just gone to sleep. Hours of crying into her pillow had kept her awake.
Stass! I’m sleep!” she shouted, groaning.
“Wake up and check Shaderoom,” Stassi said. “It’s important, Charlie. He’s going to find you.”
Charlie popped out of bed and staggered to the door, unlocking it. Stassi shoved her phone in Charlie’s face. Charlie read the post.
Charlie Woods, the new songstress at Dynasty Music Group, is sleeping with the BOSS. Bad boy and street legend, Demi Sky, has new arm candy under his label and in his bed... and apparently, he’s not the only one. She has tapes with Shad Brooks too!
“Shad’s the first comment Charlie,” Stassi said. “I clicked on his page and he has pictures of you all over it.”
Charlie’s soul left her body. She and Demi were all over the internet, and while she was mortified, that wasn’t the worst part. Her ex, Shad Brooks, a man who had ruined her life, a man she was running from. Demi’s tape was fuel to a fire she had been trying to put out for months.
“Oh my God, oh my God, Stassi. Why would he do this?” Charlie asked. “He’s going to find me, Stass.”
She couldn’t stop herself from clicking on his profile. She had left home with Shad Brooks at 16 years old with the promise of fame as bait. He was in the industry. A music legend as far as the streets were concerned, and he had “signed” her to a deal when she was still in high school. When her father had refused to let her explore music, he convinced Charlie to follow him to New York to network and make connections that would help her “career.” She had been too young to see it for what it was. He had wanted a traveling groupie, someone who was too young to understand that she was on the road pussy. He had sold her big dreams and Charlie had bought them in bulk. It had been the worst decision she had ever made. Once he had gotten her away from home, she never saw the inside of a studio. Instead, he made her earn it. She didn’t eat unlessshe earned it. She didn’t sleep unless she earned it and the act of “earning” it was some of the most disgusting things she had ever done. What had started out as being pressured to prove she was grown had transformed into suggestions that she give his friends a try. The day Charlie refused was when the beatings began. He would fight her so mercilessly that Charlie felt like she would die. His manipulation knew no limits and Charlie cowered as she remembered the ways he had cut on her body to make sure no other man would want her. He filled her with Ecstasy and kept her so doped up that Charlie stopped fighting. It had taken Charlie seven years to find her way out. She set a house fire while he was gone, hoping that the police and firefighters would get there in time to save her because every time he left, he kept her locked inside.
She had come back home to her family after years of no communication. Now, he had found her. She had been reckless to fall for someone like Demi, to trust that his influence in the streets and with his label wouldn’t leave a bread crumb trail back to her. She was exposed and the terror that came along with that was paralyzing. She had been careful, until Demi. She had been rebuilding her life quietly, hoping Shad never found her, and now that he had, she knew it was only a matter of time before he came to take her back.
Demi’s phone rang non-stop. He reached for the nightstand, snatching it up to silence the ringing, but when he saw there were 19 missed calls, he sat up. Six calls from Day, numerous texts, and a bunch of random numbers.
He opened Day’s message.
DAY
My nigga, somebody hacked your page. It’s all over social. Let me know how you want to spin it.
He didn’t need to press the play button to know what it was. His heart stopped; not because he was out there but because Charlie was. Demi went to his Instagram account and when he saw the damage his temper skyrocketed. Every Black-owned blog had run the video, but when he saw that the story was taking on a life of its own, he saw red. He clicked on a post.
SHAD BROOKS LEAKS TAPE OF CHARLIE WOODS.
“SHE FOR THE STREETZ!”
Demi was out of bed, throwing on yesterday’s clothes before he could stop himself.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lauren asked. It was her tone. The tone she used when she asked a question she already knew the answer to. She was baiting him, testing to see how affected he would be by what she had done. She prayed for indifference. If he didn’t care about the girl on the tape being put out there for the world to see, then Lauren would know that it was just a jump-off. She could recover from unattached sex, but the look in his eyes, the worry, the pure rage, and the hurt not for himself but for the other affected party…for his side bitch…that shit peeled away at all the reserve Lauren had left.
“You went through my shit?” he asked.
