Luckily, I don’t have to wait long for an answer.
A few seconds later, Coach sends a link to a vertical video. The still frame shows a woman in her late twenties or early thirties with long brown hair and serious brown eyes. It’s clear from the image alone that whatever she’s talking about is heavy, but I have no idea how heavy until I press play and her voice drifts from my phone’s speaker.
“This is my first post on this app, and it might be my only post. Ever. I never wanted to be famous, not even social media famous. If I’m honest, I was afraid to be. I was afraid beingtoo visible might attract the attention of the one person I never wanted to see again. But in light of recent events…”
She trails off, her throat working for a beat before she fixes her focus on the camera again and adds in a steady voice, “When I was fifteen years old, my boyfriend shoved me into the trunk of his car and drove into the woods surrounding our small town. He forced me into an abandoned hunting cabin, tied me up in the cellar, and held me there for three weeks. Three terrifying weeks when I was positive that I was going to die, and this boy, the boy who had told me he loved me just a few weeks before, did nothing to ease those fears.”
She wets her lips before pushing on, “He eventually came clean, and I was set free, but the trauma of that experience has never fully left me or my family. The fact that the justice system released this boy with a slap on the wrist and community service only made it worse. It also made me afraid that if anything else happened to me, justice would not be served.”
“I’ve kept quiet for years, but as a woman who believes in supporting women and a mother of two little girls, I wanted to say this openly.” She drills an unflinching look into the lens as she adds, “Kai Morrison is the ex-boyfriend who took me and hurt me. Before anyone takes his accusations at face value, I think it’s only fair you know what kind of boy he was. And, I strongly suspect, what kind of man he still is.”
She arches an imperious brow I hope makes Kai feel like the lowest form of scum before the feed cuts.
I watch it again, the words lifting the hairs on my arms all over again.
She’s incredible. And brave. And Kai…
Kai is finished. He might still make music. He might even become an even bigger star—I realized a long time ago that a lot of people don’t actually care about keeping women safe orpunishing the men who hurt them—but his power to control my sister is slipping through his fingers.
And he involved the police in his lie.
I was already pretty sure they weren’t going to like learning they’d been lied to, but now there’s no way for Kai to pretend he’s an innocent who had no idea that voice message was fake. Or that he was simply “confused” about what was happening with Bea. Law enforcement is going to know there’s a very credible report that Kai himself has a history of abusive, criminal behavior.
If we’re lucky, his claims will be summarily dismissed by the police and the press. If we’reverylucky, he might face charges of his own.
I’m not going to pretend the thought of Kai in deep shit with the law doesn’t bring me joy. Couldn’t if I tried.
And I’m not gonna.
I hurry back to the bar, grinning ear to ear as I slip inside. The phone box is open and several more cells are missing, assuring me it’s fine for me to take mine to our table.
The second Charlotte sees my face, she knows. “Oh my God,” she says, her lips curving into a smile. “It’s over? You’re back on the team?”
“I’m back, baby,” I confirm, high-fiving the hand Blue lifts to mine.
“What happened?” Charlotte asks, lifting her hand for her own high-five, which I happily deliver.
“Yeah, what happened?” Bea seconds. She joined our group while I was outside, and is currently perched on a stool beside the booth—celebratory salted margarita in hand.
She sets it down on the table as I say, “This happened,” and hand her my phone.
She pops to her feet as she takes it, her eyes going wide. “What is it?” She glances quickly over her shoulder at theindustry people still milling and chatting, before turning back to us. “Am I going to cry? Or cuss at the screen? Because I really don’t want to cry or cuss in present company.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s good news. Intense, but good. And I already turned the volume down so it shouldn’t carry.”
I watch Bea’s face as she taps the screen, soaking in every word playing softly from my phone.
Her eyes go wide. Her free hand flies to her mouth.
And then tears well in her eyes, making me feel like absolute shit.
“Sorry,” I say when she’s done, angling to put myself between her and the rest of the bar, offering what shelter I can. “Shit, Bea, I’m so sorry, I should have known you’d be upset. I can?—”
“No, it’s okay,” she cuts in, smiling at me through her tears. “I’m not upset. I’m just…” She sniffs, taking a beat to regain control. Her voice is steadier as she adds, “I’m touched. I can’t believe she did this for me. It’s so badass. So brave.”
“That’s what I thought,” I agree.
“Warrior-level shit,” Charlotte thirds, while Blue nods sagely.
