“Is this about Colton?” she asked. Dr. Grayson had already made clear her dislike for Colton during previous sessions, highlighting his track record of manipulative, coercive behavior based on how I described our relationship over the years, things I had never flagged before.
“Don’t do anything fucking stupid, Har. I’ll know if you do.”
“I’d rather not say,” I replied, feeling unsettled by his threat.What if she’s working for them?I quickly shook the ridiculous thought off, couldn’t let myself spiral like that.
“Well,” Dr. Grayson sighed. “If I thought this person was a danger to other people, I would tell someone. Even if it’s not enough to have someone arrested right away, maybe exposing that person could result in ‘trial by media,’ which could then lead to a criminal investigation, once the professionals have a chance to look into it. We’ve seen that before, like with the MeToo movement and Weinstein. So yes, depending on what it is, of course, I’d speak up. Tell them my story, if I experienced or saw anything first-hand.”
My mind raced through all the potential consequences of talking. Colton’s wrath, or, worse, his family’s. And where that would lead. Ruined career and reputation.They’ll come for you, I thought, unsure if I was more scared of the Scotts or the public’s reaction for bringing down the nation’s golden boy. Not to mention potential jail time…
“But what if by talking… you incriminate yourself?”
Dr. Grayson frowned, studying me. I swallowed hard, not wanting to imagine what she’d think of me if she knew the truth.
“Well, I’m a big believer in the phrase ‘The truth will set you free.’” She shrugged. “So take from that what you will.”
*
I tossed and turned in bed that night, thinking about what Dr. Grayson had said.
“The truth will set you free.”
Was she right? Was coming clean the only way to truly regain control—over myself and my career? My life? But I couldn’t bear the thought of that. Of the consequences. Not until I explored every other avenue first—see if there was any way to take Colton down without implicating myself.
“If I go down, so do you.”
Unable to sleep, I got up and poured myself a scotch. The bottle, which I’d only bought two days ago, was nearly half gone. I told Dr. Grayson I’d given up pills, which was the truth. I just left out that I’d replaced them with more alcohol.
I stumbled from the kitchen to the window, wincing in pain as my hip bone collided with the edge of the table, sure to leave a bruise. Looking out across the city skyline from my beautiful glass cage, I thought back to that night in Paris. To the blind item Colton had showed me, the catalyst for him flying halfway across the world to confront me.
In the anonymous social media post, the user had accused an A-list actor of rape and, as expected, people had jumped into the comments trying to guess the culprit. The majority of people seemed to be accusing another actor, but a couple also mentioned that Colton fit the description too due to his “Old Money” status. For some reason, he’d been convinced that I was the reason for this, accusing me of “spreading lies.” At the time, I hadn’t understood why he’d been so angry about online gossip; there was so much shit out there about every celebrity, true or not. I chalked it up to it being the first time he had read something negative about himself, but even now, months later, my intuition told me that the reason for his intense reaction had been because he was scared someone was onto him.
The thought sent chills up my arms, making me wonder if perhaps there were other things like that out there, more anonymous tips from over the years that could be linked to him.
It was as good a starting point as any—my only lead—so I created a fake email address and anonymously emailed the contact listed on the blind item poster’s Instagram profile, offering money in exchange for tips. I didn’t explain who I was looking into, though, worried they’d take the info and bring it to the Scotts for an even bigger payout, so I simply asked for any other tips the user had received that were similar to that one—accusations made about famous, beloved actors.
There had to be more out there, it was just a matter of finding things that his family hadn’t already wiped from the face of the earth. I downed the rest of the scotch, caressing my throat as the liquid burned on its way down. It was like fuel to a fire, igniting my determination to destroy Colton Scott.
Chapter 31
Trying to plan her next move, Naomi stares at the wall, still organized in sections of “Before,” “After,” and “During.” She wonders if she should take it all down and start again, this time with Colton at the center, but decides to first write out all her new theories and questions on a piece of paper.
Theory 1:Colton is a sick bastard, but not the murderer. Harlow is a potential serial killer, murders Jade (potentially Faye and Bill as well) and then kills Colton when he finds out and blackmails her.
Theory 2:Colton (accidentally?) chokes Jade to death during sex. Harlow is an accomplice, helps him cover it up. She’s traumatized, hence the fall at the VMAs and potential rehab stint later that year. *This doesn’t explain Faye, Colton, or the alleged blackmail
Evidence:
Sex tape (of Colton and Jade?)—is this what triggered Harlow?
Model from club said she saw C+H+J walking up the stairs together, looking cozy, at the pre-VMAs party—sex tape potentially made this night
Harlow’s DNA found in Colton’s apartment—she claims they were seeing each other again
Text messages between Harlow and Colton show motive; C was blackmailing H—this makes most sense with Theory 1 *Side note: Could the blackmail have also implicated Colton somehow, which is why the case got shut down? Because his family didn’t want this leaking?
*NEW THEORY: Colton and Harlow were in on the killings together!?
Naomi drops the pen, wondering if she’s getting too caught up in crazy conspiracies. A million questions swirl in her mind.
