by JA Huss
So I just say nothing.
I don’t care what we do now. As long as it doesn’t involve talking about my past, I’m up for it.
Chapter Fifty - Vaughn
#ThingsYouCantUnknowTakeThree
CONNER’S PHONE rings and he looks over at me. “It’s Tray.” I nod at him and he accepts the call. “Yeah,” he says, looking at me. Then he nods. I look over at Felicity and she’s biting her nails. She gives me a tenuous smile. “Got it.” And the call ends. “He’s in a room down the hall.”
“Well.” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “How convenient. Doesn’t he just think of everything?”
“We ready?” Conner asks, ignoring my statement.
I look over at Felicity and she shrugs. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Conner and I exit the room. He checks the plaques on the wall that tell us where to go to find the room Tray is waiting in, and then we take a left and walk around the corner.
“Remind me why this is a good idea?”
“Vaughn, are you in or not? We’ve got ten seconds to decide. He’s got video of Sam. Do you really want that shit on YouTube tonight?”
I stop walking and grab his arm to make him stop with me. “Is it bad? That Sam stuff? I mean, what are we talking about here?”
“It was last Christmas, just after they met.”
“Did you ask her about it?”
Conner laughs. “Are you crazy? That’s enough to set her off right there. But I’ve spent a lot of time with her over the past few months. She seemed fine to me. And she came and stayed with me a few days up in Santa Barbara before the wedding. She was great. So I’m thinking it was a one-time thing. Maybe even related to Tray, ya know? We need to just get rid of this guy.”
“But Grace? What about that?”
“If he really knows something, then I’ve got a plan. Just trust me, bro. This is my area of expertise. You handle the media, I’ll handle this.”
I nod and let out a long breath. “OK, let’s do this then.”
“At the very least, V, it buys us some much needed information.”
We continue walking and a few seconds later we round another corner and we’re face to face with the door. Conner looks over at me as he knocks.
It opens to a goon pointing a gun at my head. “Come in,” he barks in a low voice.
What choice do we have? We enter the room and find ourselves in a suite larger than the one I’m booked in.
I spot Tray sitting at the bar on the other end of the room. He looks like fucking shit.
“Do you have information for me?” Conner asks.
I say nothing. I might be tempted to choke this asshole out, and that would definitely be a bad idea since he’s got a bodyguard.
Tray points to a computer sitting on the other end of the bar. “It’s on the flash drive. Watch it.”
Conner walks over to the computer and fucks with it for a second and then a video pops up. The sound is low, but I can still hear the hitches and stuttering in Sam’s voice. It’s Christmas—I know this because she’s sitting in her old room at the parents’ house and her bed is filled with wrapping paper and boxes. Sam always sleeps over at the parents’ house on Christmas Eve and she brings all her gifts with her to wrap them. It’s a tradition she’s had since her first year in college.
“My name is Samantha Asher and I—” She stops and looks up at the person holding the camera. “I don’t want to do this,” she says, on the verge of tears. Her face is all red and her eyes are filling up. She’s definitely not in control.
“Go ahead, baby,” Tray says back. “The world wants to know the real you.”
“I don’t want the world to know me this way. I’ve done everything I can to stop the world from knowing me this way.”
“Turn it off,” I say, walking over to the computer. I slap the laptop closed and whirl around to face Tray. “You know what, asshole? You are the lowest piece of shit I’ve encountered in a very long time. I’m not paying a fucking dime for that. You set her up. You encouraged her, didn’t you? You pretended to love her this whole time so you could sell her out in the end. I’m not paying you a fucking dime. And just so we’re clear, that money means nothing to me. Nothing. I have more money than I need. Ten million dollars is nothing. I won that much last night in an impromptu game of baccarat. But you. Will never. Get a fucking cent from me. Publish this, Tray. I fucking dare you. I will take Samantha’s hand and lead her through this with her head up. Her secret will be out and she will finally, finally be able to come to terms with that part of herself.” I look over at Conner and he’s just staring at me. “Conner, we’re not paying him for this shit.”
Conner lets out a long breath. I know I just fucked up his plan, whatever it was, but I don’t care. I refuse to play along with this bullshit. “OK,” he finally says.
“Vaughn,” Tray says from his perch on the barstool a few feet away. “Whatever you think, I did that for her own good. She confided in me, and no matter what you think is happening here, you’re wrong. I thought she could handle it, and she did pretty well, but she cracked at the end and lost control. So I stopped. If you watch the whole video, you’ll see. I did that to help her.”
“And you’re here asking for ten million dollars because you love her?”
“No.” He stands up from the bar and I realize something isn’t right. His clothes are all rumpled and there’s a rip, like someone took a razor and sliced the front of his white dress shirt. His jacket pocket is hanging by a thread, and his tie is too loose. “No, I just needed to get you here. I just needed you to come hear me out. It’s not for me, OK? I don’t want your money. I want your sister. But she walked out and I was trying to process what was happening with”—he waves a hand at the computer—“this fucking bullshit.”
Conner seethes next to me. “Why the fuck are we here, Tray?”
Tray looks right at me. And this, for some reason, scares me. “Grace,” Tray says, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What?” I growl at him. I’m so fucking close to beating the shit out of this guy. The only thing that holds me back is the knowledge that he wants me to do that. He wants me to do that so he can sue me and drag my name through the tabloids. “How the fuck would you know anything, asshole? The whole thing is sealed up.”
“I don’t need records, Vaughn. I got a phone call back on Saint Thomas. That morning Sam left, in fact. I got a call and that’s why I was out drinking. He threatened me, you guys. He threatened to kill Sam if I refused to help him. And somehow he got this video. That’s not my account on YouTube, OK?” Tray says it like he’s pleading with us to believe him. “That’s his account. The video is private right now, but at six tonight, he’s making it public. He said that’s my payment for being perfect and privileged. Everyone needs to pay, and I’m no different. That’s what he said. So no matter what, that video of Sam is going to be all over the internet tonight.”
“That makes no sense,” Conner says. “Why release the video if he gets what he wants? That’s not how guys like this work.”
“He’s crazy, Conner. He said girls are weak and can’t face reality without the guidance of a man. He said he liked me because I got Sam to make that video, but that I was a coward for not publishing it and making her face her fear. So he was going to take away my options. My decision, he said that specifically. He was going to take away my decisions and force me to behave like a man.”
All I can think of is Grace. Is this why she prefers her fantasy life? Did this sick fuck mess with her brain? Confuse her and force her to believe that she was incapable of living in reality?
“And then,” Tray continues, “I got a visit a few days ago and that computer was dropped off. Open the computer back up, Conner. There’s a minimized window. Bring it up and watch.”
Conner defers to me and I nod. “Do it.” We might as well understand what’s happening and if we walk out and refuse to watch, we’ll be in the dark.
The video
starts out with just a black screen but it’s jarring and shaky and there’s sound, but it’s not clear. Muffled voices and maybe crying.
My stomach lurches inside me because I recognize that voice.
Teenage Grace.
The camera angle changes and then she comes into view. She’s bound and gagged, lying on her side in a dark corner of a filthy room. Her eyes are wide with fear and her nightgown is tattered and dirty. She squirms as the camera approaches her—
Conner reaches out and flips the computer closed this time. “Enough.”
“He says he taped her. He says he has days, weeks, months’ worth of video of her, Asher. And he’s left her alone all these years because she never told anyone and she never got attached. But apparently that’s changed. He said he’s been watching and to tell you, ‘She’s mine.’”
I just stare at Tray. If he’s trying to throw my whole world off its axis, mission accomplished.
Tray meets my stare and holds out a piece of paper with a trembling hand. “This is an account number where you need to transfer the money, Asher. It’s not for me, it’s for him. I’m just the messenger. My job is to deliver the message and he won’t hurt Sam.”
Conner and I look over at each other.
“And now I’ve done that. So make the transfer because I believe him. I think he really will kill Sam if you don’t. Or even worse, I think he might take Sam if you don’t.”
I give Conner a nod and he walks towards Tray and takes the paper from his outstretched hand. Then he pulls out his phone and texts the bank in Switzerland.
I stare at the computer, wondering if I should watch more of the video. Wondering if I can actually stomach more of the video. And knowing I have no choice in this matter. If I want to save Grace, I need as many facts as I can get. She might hate me for inserting myself into her life, but that’s a chance I’ll have to take. It’s more important that she’s safe.
“Done,” Conner says as he reads an incoming message.
Tray straightens his ripped and rumpled jacket, lets out a long breath, and heads for the door, giving his bodyguard a nod as he passes.
“Wait.” I snap out of my stupor before Tray makes it to the door. “When you talked to him… what did that sick fuck say he wanted?”
“Grace,” Tray calls out, his back to me as he walks away. “He says he wants Grace.” And then he stops and turns his head slightly so I can see his profile. “And he said he’s coming to get her and there’s nothing you can do to stop him, so be ready.”
They walk out and the door closes behind him.
“Come on,” Conner says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Everything is about to explode and we need to get ahead of it.”
“How, Conner? How the fuck are we gonna get ahead of this?”
“I’m calling Dad and the PR people. We need to have a solid plan for dealing with Sam and that video. It’s not the end of the world, V. You and I both know her bottling all that up inside is not good for her. We will walk her through it and she will come out the other end better than ever.”
I nod, and I do believe that. But believing you should do something and actually doing it are not the same thing.
“I’ll take care of Sam, see what kind of info I can pull off this computer. You take care of Johnny Blazen and ask him what he needs to get that car location info. Maybe we need to pay off a judge or something. I don’t know. We need that info. Because that video of Grace, V, that was some sick fucking shit. And even though I sorta knew that’s what happened, it shocked the shit out of me. I never imagined he could’ve filmed her.”
I scrub my hands down my face and let out an exhausted sigh. How did my life go from dreams to nightmares in one twenty-four-hour period?
“Just go find that Johnny Blazen and get Grace back, OK? I’ll take Felicity with me and we’ll go work on the computer.”
Just hearing Felicity’s name snaps me back. “I don’t want her involved, Conner. I don’t want her hurt. She can’t be a part of this.”
“Fuck that, V. That girl is gold when it comes to hacking. We need her.” Conner grabs the laptop and tucks it under his arm and walks towards the door. “She’s gonna tear this computer apart and figure out if there’s anything we can use on here. And then she’s gonna set Sam up with a YouTube channel and have her make another video. One that shows a very composed and self-assured Samantha Asher talking candidly about her disorder.”
All the people I care about are suddenly a part of this fucked-up mess. Is this my fault? Did I invite all this hatred? Am I the reason why Grace’s abductor has resurfaced after ten years? Am I the root of all the pain and humiliation that is about to be unleashed?
“Vaughn!” Conner yells from the door. “Pull it together and go find that quarterback!”
I nod and follow him out. We walk back to my suite without words and before we even reach the door, Felicity is opening it for us. She scans our faces and frowns. “Oh, shit. Please tell me something good.”
I shake my head at her. “It’s worse than we imagined. I hate to ask you—”
“Vaughn, you know whatever you need, whenever you need it, right? I’ll do anything to help.”
Conner and I walk through the door and she shuts it behind us. I pull her close for a hug. “Go with Conner and help him. We’ve got a computer for you to look at. I’m just so glad you’re part of my life. Do you know that?”
“I know, V,” she says in a soft voice. “I’m the luckiest girl alive and it’s all because of you. I’d do anything to make you happy.”
I come from a level of privilege few can comprehend. I have a loving family and I’ve never wanted for anything in my life. And yet the day this kid hacked her way into my life I realized how much I was missing. I feel the same about Grace. I never knew how sad my intimate relationships were until I saw what they could be.
I can’t lose Grace. Not only that, I feel like it’s my life’s purpose to keep her safe and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens.
I watch Felicity and Conner leave, closing the door quietly behind them. And then I go back to the living room and call the concierge desk. “This is Vaughn Asher,” I tell the woman on the other end of the line. “I need Carl up here immediately.”
No time to dwell on consequences if we don’t succeed. There will be plenty of time for that if we fail. Right now, finding out where Grace went is the only thing that matters. And my best chance of doing that is making nice with a certain football player.
Chapter Fifty-One - Grace
#CallMeDontCallMe
IT TURNS out the past is a lot more difficult to avoid when it’s all around you. We look at the TV, and there I am. We check the internet, and once again, I’m the star of the day. They are talking about me everywhere. My face, my poor teenage face, is plastered all over the airwaves. Bebe is texting me. Her parents—my parents—are texting me. And even though I really need to call them back, I just can’t do it. They will want to whisk me away to a safe place. And I’ve been there, done that. I spent almost a year tucked away in a safe place after I came home and I can’t go backwards. I can’t.
News organizations are calling as well. I know what that means. They want interviews. They wanted interviews back when I was fourteen too, but they never got one then and they’re not getting one now.
The Big Guys are calling, hell, even the Little Ladies are calling. Although that might be about Kristi’s fucked-up wedding. I’m not one hundred percent sure about that.
Probably not though. That’s probably about my past as well.
But the one thing that surprises me the most is that Vaughn does not call.
Why?
Is he so disgusted about what happened in my past? He said we had a good time last night. And I honestly wish I could remember. I do remember the gambling. I remember him being there. I remember being so angry. And I know I walked out and then there’s a gap before we were in a restaurant together. He talked about… I don�
��t remember exactly. But I think it was personal stuff. I can remember being ashamed because he was weaseling his way back into my fairytale and I was giving in.
God, everything about my life since Asher came into it has been a mess. I’m a mess. This guy is not good for me.
So why do I care so much that he hasn’t called?
Maybe he figures I won’t answer?
He’s right, if that’s what he’s thinking. I won’t answer. I’m paranoid since my phone went missing and then reappeared the next day a few weeks back. Maybe someone hacked into my phone somehow? I don’t know how wiretapping works, I could be tapped, right? Who knows who could be listening on the other end.
But still, there is this emptiness inside me that craves to hear his voice. I take a deep breath and stare at my phone as it buzzes its way across the glass table. I could call him.
Jesus, Grace. Make up your stupid mind.
Right. I’m not calling him. There’s too much happening right now. The last thing I need is him making things more complicated.
“Earth to Grace?”
“What?” I look over at Kristi and her brother. They are staring at me. “What?” I repeat.
“Your phone?” Kristi says as she points to the buzzing tech on the table next to me. “It’s driving me nuts. Just answer it.”
I pick up the phone and check the number. “It’s Vaughn.” I smile before I can stop myself.
“Just answer it,” Jack says. “It’s obvious you want to talk to him.”
I shake my head no. “I can’t talk to him right now, you guys. He’s going to want answers. You don’t know him. He compels me to do things I shouldn’t. He makes me impulsive. He’s demanding, and bossy, and—”
“And on the TV right now,” Jack says, pointing to the flatscreen over the bar on the other side of the pool. “Look!”
I do look. I can’t help myself. I even get up and walk over there so I can hear.
