Chapter 23 #3
With only an hour left before I needed to start getting ready for my date, I was determined to finish the stunning work of art I’d been working on for an author who’d contacted me out of the blue.
At this rate, I’d become a full-fledged PR firm instead of an influencer.
But I was grateful that somehow, she’d gotten my name.
While just a sample, I was very proud of what I’d accomplished.
Who was I kidding? I couldn’t concentrate. Not after what Marlee had said and the confrontation with Carrington. Why should what I’d done in my past matter to anyone?
Because you were underage. Because you made a deal with the devil.
Yeah? Which time? Just now with Carrington or before when I’d desperately needed the money?
The slight blip pulled my attention to the other monitor. I’d used some precious funds for purchasing two standalone screens, which allowed me to work on one and have my social media up on the other when I wanted.
I shifted the trackpad, bringing up the other screen. I’d left it on my Instagram account and blinked a couple of times before I realized what I was looking at. The number of followers had jumped overnight by a couple of hundred, which had thrilled me.
Now I was up a few thousand. How in the hell was that possible? Yes, I’d been contacted by a book box company who wanted to send me a box of books and asked that I post about them, which I had, but the timing was too quick.
At least I felt a little giddy inside. What I was doing was working.
Or…
Christian had interfered. Why should that bother me if he had? Was it because I was worried what Carrington had told me was true? This was crazy. One had nothing to do with the other. If Christian had used his influence to help me, so what? I’d still need to handle the actual work. Right?
“Wow,” I muttered, even stamping my feet. Another blip and I burst into laughter. Another ten while I was celebrating.
Get back to work.
The little voice reminded me I was on a self-imposed deadline, but before I could click off the screen so I could concentrate, I noticed I had a private message. It was from another influencer who’d also had trouble with the troll.
HappyBookGirl: Did you read about what happened to the jerk?
Me: I’ve decided to ignore him. What happened?
HappyBookGirl: He’s dead.
“What?” I jerked back, reading her words again.
Me: What happened?
HappyBookGirl: He was murdered. I caught something about it online and went searching for details. If you read the article from one of the St. Louis newspapers, they made it sound like the guy was a real creeper, as in stalking women from the romance community. I’ll send you a link to the article.
Me: Thanks.
The news hit me strangely, creepy-crawlies dancing all over my forearms and down my back. Even my throat was suddenly closed, but that wasn’t the worst part. I was giddy. I was truly happy the man was dead. What did that say about me?
A vision of the photograph Carrington had shown me slipped into my mind. No. I wasn’t going down that road.
The article popped into my box a couple of minutes later and I took the time to read it, realizing instantly what she was talking about. There were no egregious details, but there was an FBI investigation into possible wire fraud. What I also gathered was that he’d been murdered.
I sat back against my chair, taking several deep breaths.
My instincts told me I might know the killer. I had told Christian how much the guy had troubled me, but how was it possible Christian had tracked him down?
I was completely uncertain what to think or how to feel. On one hand, the troll had threatened me. On the other, had what he’d done been deserving of death?
No.
Or maybe…
As I closed my eyes, the face of the man who’d excited me more than any, who’d allowed me to feel joy when I’d thought I couldn’t dare trust myself or another man popped into my mind.
Would he go to those lengths to protect me when he’d already told me I belonged to him?
Or was it just wishful thinking?
If I was to believe he had something to do with either the troll’s death or even the man at the hotel, or with the man in Paris, I could only imagine what he’d do when learning about Carrington threatening me.
I sat back, debating calling Christian and ending what we shared. That would be the sensible thing to do.
However, there was no evidence Christian had anything to do with the deaths of either man. Plus, then Carrington would win and I definitely did not want that. But I did want to protect Christian.
The dilemma was eating me alive.
Perhaps the best thing to do would be to hand him an opportunity to confess his sins. Perhaps I would find the courage to confess mine.
And what if he’d done the horrible things?
All for me.
I suspected Carrington had been pushed against some invisible wall, which meant he was capable of anything. Given the threat, was it possible Christian would be arrested?
And worse…
The ache increased while my throat began to close. There was only one choice in how to handle this.
Only one.
And it just might break my heart.