Chapter Twenty-Two
Blue
Lying in bed, obsessing over West while I stare at the ceiling, thinking of his touch…
It’s like I’ve gone back in time.
I’ve seen him jealous before, I’ve seen him pissed, but he was in a full-blown rage this afternoon. It was like he saw red when he thought something more had happened between me and Seth.
And… I didn’t hate it.
Maybe it’s just nice to know he’s still got some fight in him after all.
Flipping onto my side, I feel for my phone through the darkness, and I find it beside the lamp. I lie back again, settling on the pillow as I tap out a text.
Blue: You’re all I can think about.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit send, then clutch the phone to my chest. I swear I still feel him touching me, still feel his stubble grazing the insides of my thighs. I squeeze them together, but it doesn’t help. I’m still just as addicted to him now as I ever was.
Not a big surprise, it’s just been so long since our issues haven’t stolen all the air from the room.
The phone buzzes in my hands, and I’m already smiling when I peer down at the screen. Only, it isn’t West. Instead, it’s a name I could go my whole life without seeing again.
April Lawson.
I’m seconds from letting the call go to voicemail, but I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess.
“Hello?”
“Blue. Thank God you answered.”
Sounds like we both know I shouldn’t have. She’s been acting like Queen Bitch lately, so I would’ve been well within my rights to block her ass.
But she seems frantic, nothing like her usual calculated self. So, I’m curious what might be amiss in her perfectly manicured little world.
“You barely caught me. I was almost asleep,” I lie.
“Shit. I know it’s late. Sorry. I wouldn’t have called if it weren’t an emergency.”
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
She breathes deep, and I roll my eyes at the ceiling. “Look, I know we haven’t exactly been friendly lately, and I won’t insult you by apologizing before I ask for a favor, but… I’m desperate, Blue. I… I need you.”
I cover my mouth when I almost laugh out loud. Yep, still Queen Bitch.
“I’m listening.”
“Well, I—” she pauses, voice quivering. “We need to talk. But not like this. Will you meet me?”
My brow gathers. “April, it’s nearly midnight. I—”
“Blue. Please. If it wasn’t important, believe me, I wouldn’t have called.”
My eyes fall closed.
I’m warm, I’m comfortable, and most of all, I’m not in the mood to put up with April’s bullshit.
“Please,” she says again, and I’m tempted to cave.
She’s right. She’s been far from friendly, and I owe her absolutely nothing, but there’s just this feeling in my gut. It’s telling me I should put my pride aside and go.
“Fine. Where?”
“Anywhere you want.”
There’s no way I’m bringing her here, and no way I’d ever go to her home. So, I choose someplace neutral.
“My uncle’s diner. It’s closed, but we can talk in the parking lot.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there in twenty. Come alone.”
We end the call and, ten minutes later, I’m dressed and in the truck.
There’s no point in trying to dodge my security detail, because West would hand them their asses on a platter if they let me go alone.
So, the closest I can get to meeting April’s request is convincing the guys to hang back a couple blocks.
And of course, West texts back while I’m driving, so I check his message at the stoplight.
West: I fucking love you, and I can’t put into words how badly I want you home.
I smile and send a heart emoji because the light just turned green and that’s all I have time to send. There’s no way I’m telling him where I’m headed. He’d definitely tell me to turn around and go back to Hunter’s, but like I said, I feel drawn.
April’s already in the lot when I pull up. Her headlights go dark when I park beside her, and I’m praying I don’t regret this.
She steps out—hair disheveled, oversized pajama pants and slippers. A far cry from the polished version of herself she tends to put out to the world. But it’s a testament of how out of sorts she is.
“Thanks for coming,” she says, shrugging deeper into her Cypress Pointe Emperors hoodie.
“I’m here. Now, what’s so important?”
She looks around, exhaling through her mouth, and judging by her puffy eyes and red, splotchy skin, I can guess she’s been crying.
“I need you guys to back off. Pandora understood West’s post about Vegas, knows he’s somehow got eyes on her, and she wants him—wants all of you—to stand down. Stop trying to track her, stop trying to expose her.”
My head’s spinning. “What the hell are you talking about? Pandora contacted you?”
“Yes, but—”
She’s so fidgety, unable to stand still or stop wringing her hands as she glances around like she’s in Witness Protection.
“April, what aren’t you saying?”
Tears fill her eyes, then stream down her distraught face.
“It was me,” she says.
There are too many different ways I can take that, so I need her to be extremely fucking clear right now.
“What was you?”
She shakes her head, which doesn’t answer my question. “I was upset, and Reed was upset, and I just… I had to do something.”
My stomach twists in knots, and the only sound is that of the occasional car passing by my uncle’s diner.
“What does that mean?”
She swipes tears from her cheeks. “It means I’m the one who brought her back. Pandora. I put her back online.”
Her admission leaves me winded for a moment. I’m sure April gets the gist of who and what Pandora is, but she can never know the full scale of the hell we went through. The trauma, the danger, the humiliation.
In the past and the present.
I take a breath and stand straighter, composing myself before I speak.
“You know who’s been posting?”
She shakes her head. “No, I mean… I don’t know what I fucking mean.”
It’s clear she’s not going to cooperate, so I pull my phone from my pocket the next second, pulling up West’s name to call him. If April won’t talk to me, maybe he can convince her that this isn’t a fight she should’ve picked.
But before I can dial him…
“Wait, wait, wait. Okay, I’ll talk. I just… there’s a lot.”
I stare at her a moment and then slip the phone back inside my pocket.
“I brought her back hoping it would fuck with your lives as much as the Goldens coming here fucked the rest of the team.”
It doesn’t surprise me that she sees our moving back here as a threat, but I didn’t expect her to ever own up to it.
“So, you thought telling the entire city I’m struggling to get pregnant was—”
“I don’t really control the content. Hell, I don’t even control her! Or… them. Or whoever the fuck is in charge.” She gets overwhelmed and takes slow steps away to keep from spiraling as more tears come. “Shit.”
What the hell is going on with her?
She takes a deep breath and tries to compose herself.
“I placed a vague ad online,” she says. “I just made it seem like I needed someone tech savvy who specialized in password recovery. Within a few days, someone reached out.”
“Do you have a name? Are they local?”
She’s already shaking her head before I even finish asking. “I don’t know anything about them. It was all done anonymously. Even the payments I send every month.”
Un-fucking-believable.
“It took a few weeks for them to finally get into the account.”
“How’d they do it?”
She shrugs. “I’m nowhere near smart enough to answer that question, but I gave them remote access to my laptop while they tried to hack into it. Then late one night, while I was sitting at this tiny coffee shop downtown, they did it.”
I’m breathless, realizing how this whole thing spiraled out of control because April couldn’t control her damn emotions.
“Once they were in, they logged out from my computer,” she goes on. “They disconnected from my screen, then from there, they did everything from their own devices. For all intents and purposes, they went dark.”
Went dark.
Perfect.
I turn away from April while I gather myself, remembering that Pandora’s minions are always watching, which means beating April’s ass in the middle of a parking lot is a really bad idea. But shit… when does this ever end?
“Can you still contact her?”
“Only through Pandora’s DM’s.”
I’m completely silent, trying to connect all the dots, trying to make sense of everything.
“You said you don’t control the content, but I’m guessing you’ve been feeding her information about us?”
She hesitates, but I think she knows lying is useless at this point.
“Yes, but most of what she posts is what her followers share.” She sighs, and I want to strangle her. “I… Tiffany also talks a lot.”
I didn’t ask about her, so I’m guessing April thinks offering unsolicited information will soften me up.
“Does Tiffany know what you’ve done? Is she a part of—”
“No,” April cuts in. “She’s just lonely and feels left out and… she was an easy target. So, I took advantage of that. And I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you. And fuck your apology.”
I start putting distance between us, but she calls out to me before I get the chance.
“I also think you should know I’m not convinced it’s a she. Or even just one person.”
I face her again. “What does that mean?”
She shrugs again. “They always referred to themselves as we, so I’m pretty sure there’s a whole group or team behind the account now.”
Which means pinning down who’s doing this, and eventually stopping them, is most likely impossible this time.
Sadness floods my chest, and I have to lean against the grill of my truck. Those few years of peace we had are now gone.
For good.
“But you have to help me. Please,” she begs. “She wants to hear from either you or West by morning, promising to back off.”
I slowly drag my gaze back toward her, the one who brought so much pain to my life, the lives of my loved ones. “Don’t fucking call me again. I’m contacting my lawyer first thing in the morning.”
She’s on my heels as I start toward the driver’s side of my truck.
“No, you don’t understand!” she shouts. “If you don’t stop pursuing them, they’re going to fucking ruin me and Reed, Blue. And I can’t have that. I can’t hurt him like this. He doesn’t even know what I’ve done.”
She’s full-on sobbing now, and while I’d normally feel for someone in her position, I can’t. There isn’t an ounce of sympathy in me for her now, and there never will be.
“Blue, please. I can pay you. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Just… help me. Please.”
I shake her grip from my arm and climb into my truck, locking the door before starting the engine. There’s no missing the desperation in her eyes as I pull away, but whatever this plan is Pandora has for her and Reed… it isn’t my fucking problem.