Curtis wraps his hand around Greg’s wrist, stalling his upward trajectory. “That’s enough. You got what you needed. Let her go.”
“Why do you care? You want rid of the bitch. I’m horny now, and I need to blow my load. Might as well fill her hole.”
He’s disgusting and repulsive, and if he does this, I don’t think I’ll ever recover.
“She’s still the mother of my kids. If they found out I let you fuck her, I’d lose them forever.”
“Rape, Curtis. The word you are looking for isrape, and you’re damn right. They would cut you off forever if you let this happen.” They’ll cut him off when they find out he let Greg stage this, for reasons I’m still not privy to. It’s on the tip of my tongue to spit that at my ex, but I shove the words back down, for fear he’d give his buddy the green light to proceed.
Curtis grabs the gun from Greg’s hand and pushes him away from me. “I didn’t agree to this.” He brandishes the gun in Greg’s face as the asshole pulls his boxer briefs and pants back up, and I heave a sigh of relief.
“I had to improvise. My son’s been teaching her self-defense. How else was I supposed to ensure she shut up and played her part?”
Curtis frowns but doesn’t reply as he yanks down my dress, unhooks the cuffs from the desk, and pulls me upright. I want to spit in his face or sideswipe his legs, but he’s still holding the gun, and if he’s desperate enough to buddy up with his enemy, then he’s desperate enough to shoot me.I know I’m a pawn in Greg’s sick game, but how does this help Curtis?If he thinks this will force me into accepting the terms of his latest divorce proposal, he can think again. When I’m done with him, he’ll be languishing in a jail cell alongside Vander’s father. “I don’t know what you think you stand to gain here, Curtis, but you’ve just fucked everything up.”
Leaning across me, Curtis swipes my cell from the holder and pauses the recording. “How dumb can one bitch be.” He grips my chin painfully, his nails digging into my flesh. “I’m not the one who has fucked everything up.”
I lurch for my cell, as he passes it to Greg, forgetting my wrists are still bound. Losing my balance, I take a tumble off the desk, but Curtis catches me before I face-plant the ground. Cursing under his breath, he plonks me in the chair in front of my desk, using his tie to bind one of my ankles to the leg. Greg absently loosens his tie and hands it to Curtis as he chuckles while watching the recording on my phone. “Great camera work, honey.”
Internally, I flip him the bird.
“Just email yourself the file, and wipe it from her phone,” Curtis instructs as he binds my other leg with Greg’s tie. “I want to get this over and done with before security comes looking.”
“I told you I handled that,” Greg says, pressing buttons on my cell before he drops it on the desk. “No one will come near us.”
Curtis grabs my wrists, scowling at my new ink. “This isn’t you. It’s crass. You’re letting him change you.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. “Vanderischanging me. He’s showing me how to appreciate my worth, something you did your best to destroy.” I put my face all up in his. “Guess what? You didn’t. And you get no say over what I put on or in my body. I’m free to do what I like and you can’t stop me.”
“Wanna bet?” He smirks, and I long to claw my fingernails down his face and leave scars. Curtis walks over beside Greg, and both of them prop their butts against the edge of my desk, facing me. “In case it’s not clear, you’re not exactly in a position to make such assertions when we hold all the cards.”
“You won’t when I report you to the cops,” I snap, glowering at both of them.
They trade wide grins, and all the blood drains from my body. “If anyone is reporting anything to the cops, it’ll be me,” Greg retorts.
“I haven’t done anything, and you know it.”
“The cops won’t see it like that,” Curtis says. “Show her.” He eyeballs Greg while scrubbing a hand over his chin, showcasing his impatient nature.
“I warned my son, on several occasions, what would happen if he didn’t play ball my way,” Greg says, extracting his cell phone from the pocket of his pants.
“Like I warned you not to cross me,” Curtis says, stretching his legs out and tucking one ankle over the other. “All you had to do was play happy family for a couple of years, and then we could have split up amicably, and none of this shit would be happening.”
“On what planet would West and Stella ever be happy with you cheating on me because there’s no way you’d ever have been able to keep that truth from them!”
“I had it all worked out, but you had to mess up my plans.” He jabs his finger in my face as his lips pull into a sneer. “And then you go and screw a kid. You disgust me.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re such a hypocrite. How old is your current fuck buddy? And how old was Lydia when you took her to bed?”
He fixes me with an arrogant grin, causing goose bumps to sprout along my arms. “They weren’t sixteen.”
My brow puckers.What the hell is he talking about?Vander is eighteen.
“You look confused, honey,” Greg says. “Let me fill you in.” He swipes the screen of his cell and sticks it in my face. “You and Vander made this simple for us. You were too busy screwing your brains out and making mushy declarations of love to notice what was going on around you.”
I stare in horror as he flicks through images on his cell, showing pictures and videos of Vander and me, in various stages of intimacy. They don’t just have footage from Vander’s apartment either. Greg scrolls through tons of photos taken when we were in Bridgeport, and I am so glad Dana and Diana fled to Europe after she left rehab because he must have had someone following Vander all that week.Or maybe the person was following me?
“The texts were the cherry on top of the cake.” Greg switches to a file containing hundreds of messages. “You really should be more careful with your cell phone around the office.” He smirks, and I long to smash his face in.
