“If I…” Swallowing hard, Allister looks away because whatever he sees on my face is telling him I’m dead serious. That his life hinges on the words he chooses to push out of his bloody mouth. “If I ever talk badly about Millie again, you’re going to kill me.”
“And I’m going to make it hurt,” I tell him with a nod, eventhough I’m nowhere close to satisfied. Letting go of his tie, I let him fall, the back of his head hitting the floor with a dull thud. Looking at the blood on my hand, I wipe it off on his shirt with a distasteful grunt before standing up to glare down at him. “Now, kindly get the fuck out of my office.”
Not waiting to see if he complies, I move back behind my desk to settle in my chair, just in time to stagger to his feet.
“Her father is going to find out who sent her those texts, you know,” he says, reaching up to pass the sleeve of his ruined suit under his leaking sieve of a nose. “He has someone working on it. It’s only a matter of time?—”
“I know—he told me.” Opening my laptop, I don’t even spare him a glance when I say it. To be honest, I don’t understand what’s taking so long. The matter should’ve been settled weeks ago. “Which means you and Paige are living on borrowed time because we both know no one fabricated those texts. They’re absolutely real and as soon as Millie and her father know that, the two of you are going to get everything you deserve.”
“And you think she’s just going to forgive you for what you did?” Dropping his arm on a scoff, Allister shakes his head. “Yeah—I cheated on her. I fucked her cousin but so did you and when you found out about us, you used the situation to your advantage. You think you’re better than me? You’re not. You’re just a?—”
I look up at him. “I know exactly what I am and I know exactly what Millie thinks of me,” I tell him, swallowing hard against the surge of bile that saying it out loud pushes up the back of my throat. “I know what I did and I know I don’t deserve her—neither of us do.” Sitting back in my chair, I shake my head before refocusing on my laptop. “The difference is that I actually love her.”
“Look…” Desperate now, Allister lunges at my desk, but pulls himself up when I flick a warning glare in his direction. “I already lost my job,” he whines plaintively. “I lost my apartment?—”
“It was Millie’s apartment,” I remind him. “Everything you had belonged to her. You didn’t even buy the engagement ring you gave her.”
Jerking back like I took a swing at him, Allister shakes his head but he doesn’t bother trying to deny it. “I just need you to get rid of it. That’s all I want. That’s all I’m asking for—justpleaseget rid of it.”
“I’m sorry.” I tell him with an indifferent shrug. “But Istilldon’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do,” he shouts at me, his tone high-pitched and edging toward hysteria. “It was you. I know it was?—”
“It wasn’t him, fuckstick,” a voice I recognize says from the still open doorway. “It was me.”
Hearing him, Allister wheels around and glares at the man standing a few feet away from him. Taking in the man’s worn jeans and tattoos, he lets out a disgustedjesus, there’s anotherone kind of scoff. “Who the hell are you?” he demands before taking another swipe at his nose.
“Me?” Conner Gilroy says, pointing his finger at his own chest. “I’m the guy who’s gonna post the video of you fucking a blow-up doll on the internet—nice to finally meet you.”
FORTY-SEVEN
For a second, in the wake of Conner’sadmission, no one says a word.
Before I can ask him why the hell he’d do something like that, Allister beats me to it.
“You?” He stares at the man in the doorway for a second before he looks at me like I’m supposed to answer him. When I give him adon’t look at meshrug, he turns back to Conner. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“So?” Conner leans his shoulder against the doorway with a shrug of his own while he looks at Allister like he’s something he stepped in on the sidewalk. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know you.” I can read his t-shirt from here.
IBlackmail.
Shifting his gaze to meet mine, Con gives me a flat, irritated smile. “This motherfucker had the audacity to claim he graduated,Magna Cum Laude, from Columbia when in reality, he barely escaped UNLV with his ass intact.” Shaking his head with a disgusted snort, he refocuses his attention on Allister who’s face is suddenly so white, it looks like he’s been bled dry. “And let me be clear—it’s not the state school struggle bus that gets me. It’s the fact that you lied about,” Con says to him before looking in my direction. “His real name is Alan Winkle. He’s from Reno, Nevada and he’s thirty-six,notthirty-two. He was arrested multiple times in college for solicitation and drug possession—” shifting his gaze back to Allister, Con gives him a shitty smirk, “shall I continue? Because there’s more. I knoweverything,so I can say with confidence that a sad, thirty-second cringe fest of you jackhammering your inflate-a-date is the least of your worries.” Looking at me, Conner laughs. “I found it on his phone in a file namedspank bank.”Re-aiming his gaze at Allister, he shakes his head. “Don’t even try to deny it—you know it’s true. Don’t make me show him.”
“You can’t…” Shaking his head, Allister doesn’t look angry anymore. He looks like he’s about to have a stroke. Whatever Conner dug up on him must be bad. Real bad. “You can’t just?—”
“Kitten,” Conner says with anaren’t you adorableshake of his head. “I can do whatever the hell I want. No one’s stopping me—and what Iwantto do is to completelyfuckyou up.”
“Why?” Allister bounces a look between us, his voice shaking. “I don’t understand. What?—”
“You don’t need to understandAlan,” Conner tells him in the slightly exasperated tone of someone who’s trying toexplain simple addition to a toddler. “All you need to do is comply. If you don’t?—”
“Okay.” Nodding his head a mile a minute, Allister drags a shaky, bloody hand over his mouth like he’s about to throw up. “Fine. You win—just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Disappear,” Conner says, his tone flat and completely unsympathetic. “Right now. Walk out this door and vanish. Fuck off back to Reno and stay there. Forever.”
For a second, Allister just stares at him like he doesn’t understand. “What do you meanstay there?” he finally asks when Conner doesn’t elaborate. “Like?—”
“Jesus, he’s not very smart, is he?” Conner gives me awhat the fuckeye roll. “Let me explain it to you like you’re five.If you leave Reno—” Crossing his arms over his chest, Conner leans into the space between them “if you so much as touch your pinkie toe outside the city limits, for the rest of your dumb, miserable life, I’ll know.I’ll know, Alanand then I’ll have to make you very,verysorry.”
