“Meet my neighbor, Kaitlin, and her friend Hannah.” Reverie’s voice is tight and rife with annoyance as she waves a hand toward the orange-haired girl and then the black-haired one, respectively.
“Reverie was, uh, just asking to see something,” Kaitlin explains.
I feign intrigue. “See what?”
She backs up toward the door and grabs the handle—directly across the hall from Rev’s.
“Reverie can show you,” she says quickly. “It’s easy to find.”
I hum and nod at her door. “This your room?”
She glances at her friend, her throat bobbing. “Yes, why?”
I shrug casually. “Just making sure you’re easy to find for when my lawyer has questions.” My grin is as warm as if I’m made of solid ice and a sculptor carved it into my face.
Both of their faces fall, terror sparking in their gazes as they look at one another again.
“W-we didn't do anything,” Hannah says, attempting to chuckle, but it falls flat.
“I sure hope not,” I say, my smile widening. “Posting videos of people fucking without their consent is classified as revenge porn.”
“Okay, well, it wasn't us,” Kaitlin snaps defensively, repeatedly glancing at Hannah with absolute terror. Her entire face is flushed, and Hannah's isn't any less red.
They don’t know real terror yet.
It's pretty fucking obvious one of them posted the video anonymously, and I will ensure they understand the repercussions of not only recording and posting that video, but opening their mouths to a single soul shouldthey dare confirm our identities.
“Great,” I say, my tone overly chipper. “Then you won't have anything to worry about when they track the IP address it was posted from.”
I've never seen faces bleach of all color in such a short amount of time, but I've also never been recorded fucking someone, so today is a day of firsts, it would appear.
Kaitlin squeaks out a, “We won’t,” before they both scurry inside her room, quickly shutting and locking the door behind them.
The ensuing silence is heavy while Reverie stares at their closed door. I want to know what she's thinking, but her energy is a flame held over gasoline.
She’s a ticking time bomb, and I truly am too tired to deal with an explosion.
It’s been a long fucking day.
“Let’s go,” I urge quietly.
Silently, she turns and walks past me. Her energy has exceeded hellfire and reached the tundra, where her fury is ice cold.
I grind my molars and trail after her. I’m not exactly looking forward to an ice cube in my bed, but I’d take her cold than not at all.
CHAPTER 21
REVERIE
Dreadful Sharpe’s scandalous sex tape makes waves across the internet only days after posting salacious picture with new girlfriend.
I skim over the article, my heart sinking as I read. It talks about how the public is speculating if the sex tape is of Dread, along with my identity—if I’m Charlotte D’Amour or someone who only resembles me. They’re also questioning if I’m the one in the video, or if he’s been caught cheating just days after announcing his relationship.
It also laments over how Dread’s made no appearances with a girl or acknowledged any romantic relationships prior to his post, to the point people were questioning his sexuality.
If it’s confirmed to be him, there’s no longer a question mark where Dreadful’s sexual preferences are concerned.
I bristle, immediately irked by the underlying tones of homophobia.
