Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
She froze again, head up, mouth hanging open, before she cursed under her breath. “Oh, no.”
“Slide in.” Kash’s command was not an option.
She gulped before she did what he said.
Matt started, because I knew he would. “Oh, fuck indeed. Camille Story, aka Quinn’s bitch, aka Hoda’s puppet master, who probably gave her name up to Kash’s grandfather.” He leaned forward, hissing, “You got her killed. Take ownership of that.”
Her eyes got bigger and bigger, the more he talked. She also got smaller and smaller in the booth, until she was almost shrunk half under the table. “I am not. What?” She pushed back up. “The only person I gave Hoda’s name to was Quinn. What she did with it, that’s on her. Not me.”
“Right. You’re so innocent.”
“I’m not saying I’m innocent, but what do you expect? Your family tried to ruin me. You tried to ruin Hoda. I know you ruined Quinn—”
I burst forward. “Quinn is guilty! She tried to have me killed. You’re on the wrong side here if you think you’re some vigilante blogger.”
She startled, pushing her glasses back up.
She looked at Kash, who was scowling at her. Then at Matt, who was also scowling, but he had more of a glare, and he raised his eyebrow at her.
“Are you serious?”
Matt snorted. “You’re unbelievable. All that evidence. Calhoun’s men killed your friend! Don’t you care?”
“I feel bad about Hoda, but this is war. And in times of war, there are casualties—”
“Would you like to be one?”
The question came from Kash, and it was said quietly, but damn, chills down my back.
Camille was feeling the same, because I caught the shiver before she swallowed once again. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” said Matt.
“Yes,” said Kash.
“Dude! She probably has a recorder on her.”
Kash looked down, picked up her purse, and dumped it out on the table.
“Oh my God! That’s personal property. You can’t do that.”
Kash was starting to look through her things. “Report me.”
She sat back, her eyebrows pinched together and her whole mouth pursed. “I’m not okay with this, with any of this. You are going through my things. You are threatening my well-being. You are holding me here against my will…”
And I was done hearing her complaints.
I slid a picture over the table to her.
She looked down, saw it, and gasped. “What—How—You—Oh my God! You invaded my privacy.”
Matt’s head fell backward. “Are you freaking kidding me? That’s all you do to us!”
Her face pinched in on itself. “I thought … I thought we had a good time the other night.”
Another groan from him. “That was forever ago, and it was so my family could get inside and figure out what the fuck you had on us.”
I pointed to the picture. “That’s also when I installed a program to watch you.”
I let my statement hang between us.
The image was of her doing something very illegal.
“I have the trail to back this picture up, along with audio and video footage over the last month.”
“You can’t do that. What you did was illegal!”
She was white around her mouth, matching the blood draining from her face. She couldn’t stop staring at the picture.
Yes. What I did was just as illegal. I didn’t care.
“Prove it.”
She looked up, her eyes so dilated that it took a second to focus on me. “You bitch…”
“I have mercenaries on my payroll.”
She turned, looking at Kash, and she visibly shrank back again.
He stared right back, his voice level. “I wanted to give them your name, to tell them to ‘get rid’ of you in any way they chose. I’d be very kind to Bailey right now. She overrode my suggestion.”
Another gulp. This time it was audible, and that said a lot since we were in a nightclub. Flashing lights and techno music was an automatic with these places. And dark corners, thank goodness.
She crumpled up the picture, her gaze back on me. “What do you want?”
Now that we got that out of the way, I slid over my next item. It was the latest piece she wrote about Hoda. “This is you.”
“No, it’s not.”
I shook my head, not understanding why she kept trying. “By now, you should automatically know that I don’t bluff. If I say I have it, I have it. If I say I know it, I have a trail of online evidence to back me up. Stop. We’re not even here to do anything to you. Just shut up and listen.”
Her mouth clamped tight.
“Finally.” Matt sighed.
“You are Inside Daily Press. I ran all of the articles, and they’re all from you. They all generate from your four computers. And yes, I know about the fifth one you keep in the back closet. I know all—just make that your mantra by now. Bailey knows all, so stop arguing with me. You’re only going to piss me off to find more shit on you, and I have a ton already. I have enough that we could hand it over to two FBI agents, who would be happy to do with it what they wanted. I don’t think you’d get away with the warning we’re going to give you.”