Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Sophie,” Riley says, knocking on my door. “I’ve got a letter for you.”
A letter? I can’t even remember the last time somebody sent me one. It must’ve been in high school during the pen pal program. Closing my laptop, I go to the door. Riley hands me the letter, not looking at me for some reason. I wonder if she’s tired or something.
“I’m going to check on Paul.”
The letter is addressed to me, handwritten. Opening it, I spill the contents onto my desk. A memory drive falls out. What the hell? I’m about to plug it into my laptop when I realize it could have a virus or something. Instead, I go under my bed and root around until I find my old laptop. This one barely turns on. I was supposed to trash it last year, but I kept putting it off. There’s something nostalgic about it. It’s the first laptop I ever owned, back when I’d use videos to disappear from Mom and Dad’s tragic passing.
After the laptop chugs to life, I plug the memory drive in. There’s one video. I click play. What the fuck?
I’m looking at the thirteen-year-old version of myself. I remember recording this video. I remember foolishly uploading it to the Cloud before, then deleting it years later. Where did they get it? Did I upload it anywhere else? I can’t remember. I look so young, silly, and innocent, my braces flashing at the camera, a big dorky grin on my face.
“So Kaleb looked at me today…” Thirteen-year-old me twirls her hair around her finger, getting a silly, dreamy look on her face. “I think he really liked my outfit. Maybe I’ll wear green more often, huh?”
I go on like this, completely disconnected from reality, saying the most insane things. Toward the end of the video, it fades to black, and a message appears. I’ve heard the phrase chilled to the bone before, but now I actually feel it, a cutting coldness moving right through me.
This is to let you know we are serious. How would your brother feel if he knew about this, Sophie?
Await further instructions.
I stare at the words, white on a black backdrop. The video ends and then automatically replays. I slam the laptop shut, my head aching, trying to figure out who would’ve sent this and how they got the video. And why?
There are too many questions. I don’t even know where to start. It’s not like I can talk to Paul about it. He doesn’t even know these videos exist. Kaleb and I left things too sourly for me to go to him. I feel stuck, trapped in place, with no option other than to do what this mystery freak wants. Await further instructions.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kaleb
I’m on the treadmill again, as if I can outrun my demons. I’ve spent the day buried in work, trying not to think about the fact I failed. Nobody forced me to give into my lust. Nobody forced me to slide my hand between her thick legs and rub until she was creaming, moaning, and hungry for more.
On the TV screen across the room, an interview plays with Jane Larson, the woman from the hospital who wanted a video, the woman whose phone Sophie stole. Thinking of that gets me grinning despite how we left things. Jane Larson is clawing onto her fifteen minutes of fame.
“I was incredibly heartbroken by his response,” she says. “All I wanted was a quick video. My mother is suff-suff…” She trails off, fighting off tears, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it were all an act. “Suffering so badly with her cancer scare.” Cancer scare, not cancer, but of course, Jane wants to get the c-word in there. “When I saw the other angle, saw him smirking, it made me sick. Did I really do anything that bad?”
I swipe on my phone and call Tyrone.
“Boss?” he answers after a few rings.
“Let’s arrange a one-on-one with Jane Larson,” I tell him.
“What? Why? Are you sure?”
“Our brand is about freedom. I’ll explain to this woman why I should have the freedom to visit my sick friend. Let the public decide who’s right.”
“It’s risky. Anything could happen.”
“If we cared about risk, I wouldn’t have a job. Neither would you. Neither would anybody in the company. Anything on Mark or Lisa yet?”
“Nothing, but I’m still digging.”
“Dig harder,” I snap, and then hang up.
I know I’m being an ass. Maybe it’s one benefit of being a CEO, being able to behave in a dickhead way. I’m normally able to resist the urge. I can’t stop thinking about Sophie, though, how we left things. I stormed away from her and pulled out of her street like it was a drag race. I didn’t even say goodbye to my so-called best friend.
I keep running until I feel like my legs are going to crumble. Then I jump off the machine, breathing hard, wishing Sophie was here, but that’s nothing new. I always wish she was here.