Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
He smiles as he strolls past me to the door, opening it, and gesturing for me to get out.
“Just pay, Porter,” he says quietly. “Pay and this all goes away. You’ve got one day to think about it. After that, Beckett and Kempton’s lives get much, much harder.”
15
Beckett
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
I stare at Porter in shock, my heart sinking into my gut as his jaw hardens.
“Not even a little.”
Holy. Fuck.
“But, you and Justin…” I shake my head. “I mean you guys are friends, man. From school, from Wall Street!”
Porter grimaces. “Yeah, well, apparently not.”
“He can’t do this.”
“He is doing this.”
“Yeah well it’s fucking extortion!”
“No shit,” Porter spits, whirling and slamming a fist against the top of his desk before he storms over to the window. We’re in his office off his classroom, and I’m suddenly sorely wishing he kept booze in here.
Justin’s got a fucking tape of us. Well, two tapes. One of Porter and Kempton, and other of me and her, in my Jeep, shot from a security camera outside the house, I guess. The one of her and I isn’t bad—I mean, it’s not good that there’s a tape of her riding my cock, but whatever. It’s two eighteen-year olds doing what everyone expects us to be doing. But the one of her and Porter shot from some sort of nanny cam or something is not good. Not in the fucking slightest. And actually, since they’re both time-stamped videos, it makes the one of her hooking up with me something like twenty minutes after screwing Porter even worse. Because if it’s reputation Justin is going to go after with his threat involving the video, that could destroy her.
I mean fuck, it could only be worse if he had a video of all three of us together.
“Is there a chance he’s bluffing?”
Porter scowls as he turns to me. “He showed them to me.”
I grimace.
“So, how do we look?”
His eyes blaze in anger as they dart up to glare at me.
“You want to take this seriously?”
“I am, man,” I growl. And I am, it’s just sometimes making a wisecrack is my way of coping.
“How much does this asshole want?”
“Two million.”
My jaw drops. “Holy fuck!”
Porter’s face darkens and he looks away.
“Wait, do you have that kind of cash?”
He glances back at me with a hardened look and my brow arches.
“Jesus, Porter. Really?”
“Selling my soul on Wall Street was…” he frowns. “Lucrative. But I didn’t want to become someone like Justin, who’s basically a good guy compared to half the sharks we worked with.”
“So, what, you’re actually going to pay him?”
“Yes.”
I snarl, my jaw clenched.
“Fuck that.”
“I don’t give a shit about the money, Beck,” he spits back. “Or myself, for that matter. But you?” He shakes his head. “Beck, you’ve got a future. So does Kempton. And I’m not letting that asshole fuck up her life and yours because of everything that’s gone down.”
“Porter, you can’t just hand that shithead mon—”
“What’s going on?”
My heart simultaneously leaps and sinks at the same time, hearing that angelic voice from behind me. Porter looks past me, and I turn and smile at the sight of Kempton standing in the doorway to Porter’s office. And she looks gorgeous, of course. Long red hair tangled over her shoulders, big green eyes shining with curiosity as they flit between the two of us.
Neither Porter or I say anything, and her brow furrows as she steps into the office.
“I said what’s going on.”
Porter clears his throat.
“Nothing, baby,” he growls quietly. I know damn well neither of us wants to tell her about Justin and the tapes.
Kempton scowls. “No, don’t ‘nothing’ me, okay?”
I grin. Oh, she’s got sass all right.
“Kempton,” I say quietly. “Just leave it.”
“The hell I will. You both look furious and scared, and I want to know why.”
I glance at Porter, who slumps his shoulders and growls quietly before he nods at me.
“Tell her.”
Kempton shakes her head. “Tell me wh—”
“We were filmed. At that house party that night.”
She frowns, like she’s trying to figure out what I mean.
“That night,” I say quietly, and suddenly, her face goes white.
“What?”
Her voice is cracked and cold, her eyes wide as she realizes what I’m telling her.
“Kara Lowe’s older brother’s party?”
Porter grunts, nodding. “His name is Justin. We know each other from Winchester and then from working Wall Street together.”
“He… he filmed us?” she whispers, her face white. “How?”
Porter shakes his head, stepping out from behind his desk and going to her. His hands slide up and down her arms, pulling her close. “A nanny cam or something in the guest room. And then a security camera of you and Beckett in the Jeep later.”
Her eyes go wide. “He filmed me with both of you?!”
She glances at me, and I nod solemnly, feeling helpless as I watch her face cave.
“He… he… oh my God…” she croaks out. “I’m—I mean, if people see those, I’m—”