Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
GRIFFIN
“Finny?” Sophie cried, somewhere on the edges of my consciousness. She shook my shoulders. “Finn, you need to wake up.”
I pried one eye open.
She laughed—short and wet. “Oh, good. You’re not dead.”
My other opened. She was leaning over me, cheeks tear-streaked. There was a ceiling above us and I was lying on something with cushions.
I blinked, trying to pull the room into focus. Where was I? And why was Sophie crying?
Jules…
A sob rose before I could stop it.
“Oh, Griff.” Sophie collapsed against me.
“No,” Theo said somewhere off to my right. “I don’t believe it.”
“Theo,” Liam’s voice was a warning. “I’m telling you what I saw. Are you calling me a liar?”
“Chill, guys,” Bowen said. “Chill.”
“No, I’m not calling you a liar,” Theo said, though his voice was fraying at the edges.
“I’m just saying I lived with her for the past three months, and I’m sorry, but she didn’t act like someone who’d prostituted herself.
Never once did she try anything with me.
She wasn’t sneaking men in, and she wasn’t sneaking out.
Trust me. I would know. She whimpered and cried all night from bad dreams. Some nights I hardly slept at all.
” He let out a weary sigh. “She never went anywhere other than the farm, the ranch, or our house. It was like she was afraid to go out in public. And she left her phone plugged in on the kitchen counter every night like a teenager who’d been grounded. ”
“Some people are good at hiding secrets,” Holden said.
Liam propped his hands on his hips. “Look. I confronted her about it when Griffin first brought her home, and she basically admitted it.”
“You outright asked her if she was a prostitute?” Holden asked.
“Well, no. But it was heavily implied, and she didn’t deny it. She said she’d changed, and she wasn’t that person anymore. I hope that’s true. But the fact is, it’s what she was.”
Something cracked open behind my sternum.
“No,” Theo said. “There’s no way. Someone like that—you’d feel it on them.
But Juliette is pure light, man. She’s… goodness.
I’m telling you. She hardly ever swears, and she never talks badly about other people.
Heck, I never saw her watch an R-rated movie.
It was like she wanted to bathe in goodness wherever she could find it.
She thirsted for it. You all saw her. She went to church with us every week.
And anytime she wasn’t working—which was rare—she’d be curled up, bingeing some show called ‘Road to Avonlea.’ Set in the early nineteen hundreds—frilly dresses and wholesome mischief. ”
“He’s telling the truth,” Sophie called. “I caught him watching it with her once.”
“Shush.” Theo released a heartbroken laugh.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Christy said, her voice thick. “That show is one of my all-time faves.”
“Chris.” Holden chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “Not the time.”
“Just saying. It’s a really good show.” I looked over to see Aunt Christy pressing her fingers under her eyes.
Everyone had been crying except Liam, who looked gutted.
And Holden, who’d seen so many terrible things in his career as the Commonwealth’s Attorney for Seddledowne that almost nothing fazed him.
I’d only seen him cry once—when Aunt Christy sobbed for a week after cutting ties with one of her manipulative sisters.
I looked around. Where were Cash and Charlie?
“You’re wrong about her,” Theo said. “I don’t know what you think you saw, or what you think she confessed to, but there has to be more to the story.”
“Believe it, bro,” Liam said. “She’s a freaking supermodel. She schmoozes some of the richest, most corrupt people in the world. And I hate to say it, but she looked perfectly happy about it.”
I pushed myself up. Everyone turned.
“Perfectly happy about what?” I asked.
“Griffin.” Aunt Christy hurried over. She knelt in front of me and brushed my bangs to the side. “Are you okay?”
“Mom,” Maddie whimpered, hugging her dad. “Of course he’s not okay. None of us are. Least of all him.”
I stood carefully, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “Perfectly happy about what?” I repeated more firmly.
Liam’s head dropped.
“Why do you know anything about this?” I asked him. “Unless you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been, doing something you shouldn’t have done.”
“Griff,” Bowen warned. “Let him tell the story first.”
“Knock, knock.” A middle-aged man entered the room wearing a burnt orange Fury polo with gray trim, charcoal slacks, and clean white shoes. “Who am I checking for a concussion?” he asked Liam.
Liam pointed at me. “Tall guy with red hair. Griff, this is Dr. Brevik.”
The man walked toward me, pulling a tiny flashlight out of his pocket. “Can you sit so I can check your eyes?”
I sat on the chaise lounge behind me. The light hit the back of my skull like a spike. I jerked away.
He exhaled through his nose and followed my movement, trying again.
I knocked his hand away. “I’m fine,” I growled, about to punch someone. Maybe this guy, maybe Liam. Maybe both. I exhaled through my nose. “Please leave me alone.”
“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Holden said. “Thank you.”
The doctor looked baffled, but he left the room.
I stood again, everything in me coiled tight, and aimed myself at Liam. “Again, how do you know anything about my w-wife?” My voice broke. I didn’t want to ask the next question, but I had to know. “Did you…” Deep breath. “Did you have sex with her?”
Christy yelped and pressed her hand to her mouth.
“No,” Liam said. “I didn’t. I swear.” He looked sincere.
I wish I could say it helped me relax, but I suspected I wouldn’t relax for a very long time after tonight. Possibly for the rest of my life.
He stared at the floor for a moment. “It happened about a year and a half ago. Pike and I had gotten pretty tight, and against my better judgment, he talked me into going to Vegas one weekend to unwind.”
“Liam.” Christy made a disappointed sound.
“Duprees don’t gamble,” Bowen said in a mock-Granny voice, but no one had the heart to laugh.
“I told him gambling wasn’t something I did, even for fun,” Liam said.
“But he promised we’d do other things.” Then he looked back at me.
“That turned out to mostly be a lie. I spent my time watching him blow thousands of dollars and drink away thousands more.” His hands hung at his sides.
“The last night we were there, he told me we’d been invited to a party, and there would be this stunning supermodel there.
His exact words were, ‘Her face card is lethal. Top to bottom, bro—she don't miss.’ He said he’d been to one of these parties once before, and it was ‘lit.’ It sounded better than sitting in a casino, so I agreed.
” His chest heaved. Then it heaved again.
“But when we got there, things felt… off. First, we had to sign a non-disclosure agreement. When I asked Pike what that was about, he said it protected us as much as the people throwing the party. He deflected every other question.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.
“I should’ve left then and there, but I didn’t want Pike to think I was soft… so I signed.”
“Geez, son.” Holden shook his head. “They’ve got you on a list now.”
“I know that, all right?” Liam said, like he’d beat himself up plenty. “It was incredibly foolish, and I learned some hard lessons that night. The first being that if your gut says to leave, you leave. No matter how weak it makes you look.”
“What happened after that?” I asked.
“They took our IDs and told us we weren’t allowed to leave until it was over. Warning bells were going off in my head, but again… pride. Then they checked to make sure we’d sent in our lab results.”
“Lab results?” Christy said, like, what did that have to do with anything.
“Yes,” Liam said. “I thought maybe that would save me—I had no idea what they were talking about, so I couldn’t have sent anything.
But they nodded and said we were both approved.
Pike admitted that he’d sent them my labs from the last time they were drawn here for the team, as if he’d done me some kind of favor. ”
“That’s a HIPAA violation,” Theo said.
“Thank you for that,” Sophie said dryly.
Liam blew his bangs out of his eyes. “I asked Pike what kind of party it was that they’d need our labs, and he just laughed.
Then a door opened and a man in a suit summoned us inside.
We followed him down a long hall into the ‘Viewing Room.’” Before any of us could ask, he held up a hand like he wanted to get this over with.
“We sat on one of the expensive-looking leather couches. Ahead of us, there was a wall of glass, which Pike told me was actually a two-way mirror. Whoever was on the other side couldn’t see us.
” He shoved a hand into his hair. “Then a couple of scantily dressed women entered, offered us hors d’oeuvres, and asked what we’d like to drink.
When I asked for a Diet Coke, they laughed.
Pike laughed. The whole room laughed. But they brought me a Diet Coke. ”
“Wait,” Holden said. “There were other people there?”
“Other men. Yes,” Liam said. “Three or four more filtered in after us. Fifteen total.”
“And they all signed the NDA?” Holden asked.
“I would assume so,” Liam said. He looked directly at me.
“I remember demanding again that Pike tell me what this was all about. He laughed and said to relax, and that I wouldn’t regret coming.
” But Liam looked like he regretted it. Intensely.
“A few minutes later, the lights dimmed. A small door on the other side of the glass opened…” He held my stare for a few seconds, and I knew whatever he said next would be the sucker punch.
I also knew that he’d rather be anywhere, doing anything, than be the one to deliver it.
“…out walked Juliette in nothing but stilettos, a black lace bra, and a matching thong.”
My stomach seized.
Theo fell back onto a stool.
Holden swore, fingers laced behind his head.
“You should’ve left,” Christy said.
“I couldn’t.” Liam threw his hands up. “There were bodyguards blocking both exits.” He turned to me. “Griff. Please don’t make me tell you the rest.”
“Tell me,” I said, teeth clenched. “I have to know.”
“Fine.” He looked at the floor. “Then the bidding started.”
My heart tried to punch through my rib cage.
“The b-bidding?” Bowen went pale.
“Yes,” Liam said, looking as sick as I felt.
“While Juliette laughed and flung her head and hips from side to side, showing us her backside, her front side, every freaking side, men bid on her. It went on for like fifteen minutes.” He rubbed his temples.
“The most uncomfortable fifteen minutes of my life.”
“Wh-who won?” I asked. “Pike?”
“No,” Liam said. “And he was bitter about it the entire flight home. Apparently, he’d won her once before. Said she was ‘worth every penny.’ That night, she went to a man named Watterson. He wore a business suit and said nothing the whole time. He paid $500,000 for her.”
Bowen bomb-whistled but there was no force behind it.
Sophie made a sound like she’d been struck.
Christy covered her mouth.
Theo didn’t make a sound.
I couldn’t—I didn’t—I pressed the heels of my hands against my skull, trying to get control. But my gut wrenched hard, bending me at the waist, and I vomited all over the suite floor.
Christy shoved a small trash can under me.
“Griff!” Sophie cried, rubbing my back.
I shook her off. “Don’t touch me, please.” Then I puked again. And again and again and again until I had nothing left. When I was done, Sophie and Christy helped me sit.
“You can’t fire me for reporting the truth!” Sariah Morgandale stomped past us on the sideline, phone pressed to her ear, not looking our way. “I’m sick of the Duprees getting nothing but good press. They’re hiding things, I’m telling you!”
“Hey, Sariah!” Liam called, something dangerous in his voice.
She spun, glare ready—then jerked back when she realized we were all watching.
“Good luck finding a new job.” He blew her a kiss.
She bared her teeth like a rottweiler ready to attack.
“Ah!” he shouted as she stormed away. “That’s what we Duprees call karma!”
She turned and flipped him the bird. Which only made Liam laugh harder.
I wished I could enjoy it. But I felt nothing toward her. She wasn’t the cause of my anguish; she was simply the conduit.
“Finish, please,” I said.
“That’s it,” Liam said. “I don’t know anything else.”
“So did the guy win her for the entire night?” Bowen asked, voice low.
“Three hours.” Liam swallowed. “Three hours and…”
“Finish,” I demanded.
“Whoever won had to use protection,” he blurted. “The whole thing would be filmed. To protect Juliette. That’s what they said.”
“That’s sick,” Maddie said.
“To protect Juliette,” I snarled.
“No,” Theo said. “No. If that was happening, it was because someone made her do it. She didn’t have a choice.” He turned to me, begging. “She loves you, man. She cried herself to sleep for weeks after you left. You have to believe—”
“Stop!” I shouted, punching my thigh. “I have to believe nothing. She lied. Everything about her is a lie!” The room went silent. Snot was dripping from my nose.
“Here.” Sophie jogged over, grabbed some napkins off the counter, and jogged back.
“How many times?” I asked Liam.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking confused. “How many times what?”
“How many times has she done that?” I asked, voice rough. “How many times—” Deep breath, “—has she auctioned herself off to the highest bidder?”
Maddie made a low sound of grief. She adored Jules. Or she had.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Liam said. “I know it happened every second Sunday of the month. But for how long, I have no idea. I’m sorry. Maybe I should’ve asked more questions, but I figured the less I knew, the better.”
“Probably wise,” Holden said.
Bowen shook his head. “And this is why you and Pike aren’t friends anymore?”
Liam laughed bitterly. “Would you want to be friends with a guy like that?”
The door flew open, and Cash and Charlie burst in, panic-stricken.
Cash came straight at me. “I’m so sorry, man, we couldn’t find her.”
“We checked everywhere,” Charlie said.
“Did you look up her location on Find My?” Bowen asked.
“Yes,” Cash said. “Now it says location unavailable.”
Bowen swore.
“Doesn’t matter.” I shrugged, a hardness taking over. “Let’s go.”
Cash’s head jerked back. “Dude, we can’t just leave her here. We’re hours from home. I know she’s sorta messed up, but—”
“Sorta messed up?” The words tasted like ash.
“Bro,” Cash dropped his voice. “She’s still your wife.”
“My wife?” I nodded twice, like cool, cool. “Maybe. But she won’t be for long.”