Alphahole

by DD Prince

  “I don’t deserve any of you, you know? But here you all are for me.” She starts to weep. Auz moves in and puts his arm around her. I rake my hand through my hair.

  She did this to herself with her association with Bella, but I’m not exactly feeling like rubbing her nose in it right now.

  There’s another knock at the door. It’s late so the staff must be all gone. Adele goes this time.

  “Careful, Adele. It might be a---” I move to answer the door, in case there’s paparazzi. It’s Roger Greer. Roger strides in and glances at my father and goes directly to my mother.

  “I do not think so,” Dad shouts and he’s suddenly between Roger and my mother.

  “Aw fuck,” I say aloud, and move in to flank my Dad. Austin rises and gets on Dad’s other side. We’re a wall in front of my mother.

  “Audra? Can we speak?” Roger asks.

  “Get the fuck out of my house,” Dad snaps.

  “Go Rog,” Austin says.

  “I…”

  “Go!” Dad barks.

  “You’re all here for her? You’ll be there for her through this shit storm?” Roger demands. He’s seen the division in my family for years. He’s had a front row seat.

  “We will,” I say.

  Roger gives me a pointed look, then backs out and leaves.

  Shortly after, we say our goodnights. My mother goes to bed, looking frail and exhausted. She won’t stop crying. Adele climbs in with her, saying she’ll stay until my mother falls asleep.

  Dad’s told us he’s driving her to rehab in the morning. It’s probably more like a five-star resort for rich women, but either way, it’s a start.

  He tells me that once she’s out of that, they’ll go to marriage counselling and see if they have anything worth rebuilding.

  I get home at two o’clock in the morning.

  Carly is fast asleep in my bed. I crawl in with her and pull her close.

  She nuzzles in. “Everything okay?”

  “Quite a night,” I mumble. I fill her in while she lays on my chest, listening.

  ***

  I leave for work before Carly is awake, leaving a note against the banana I leave on the counter to say I’ll meet her at the office. I started leaving a banana out with a post-it on it whenever I leave before her in the morning. I always sign it,

  See you a work. Yours Always,

  The Banana Thief

  I hit my safety deposit box the minute the bank opens and pull out the thumb drive that says “Bella Wilson” on the label.

  I slip it into my inside pocket and head to the office. I open my private laptop and login through my VPN.

  That fucking bitch is going to pay. No, I don’t have scheming bitches beat up. I fuck their lives up in other, more lasting ways than a few bruises.

  46

  Carly

  I tell Ally all about last night on the way to work and she looks so relieved. She’s a good friend. I catch Ash giving me kind eyes in the rearview mirror, too.

  I’m so, so relieved that Aiden didn’t have that girl beat up, that he’s not going to have the same thing done to Sienna.

  I replayed the conversation with her in my mind. I assumed he beat her up. She smiled devilishly when I voiced it, like maybe she hadn’t thought of that angle, but saw that was causing damage so went with it.

  Of course I’m not thrilled by what was on that audio recording, but it doesn’t surprise me. I haven’t suddenly forgotten who Aiden was when I got here, how much of a dick he was to me. How conceited and cocksure he was.

  He’s not that Aiden now.

  He’s going through a lot right now with his mother, too.

  I’m just going to try to be supportive to him through these times.

  I get to the office and he’s sitting behind his desk with a devious look in his eyes. He’s got two laptops in front of him.

  “Hi,” I say in his doorway.

  “Get in here and kiss me, peaches.” He orders.

  I shut the door and wander in.

  “Blinds,” he demands.

  I shake my head. “Keep it professional, Mr. Carmichael. We don’t need any more salacious gossip or tabloid fodder just yet.”

  He narrows his eyes. “You’re right. You still better come kiss me.”

  I round his desk and lean over. He grabs my hair and uses it to deepen the kiss.

  “We should go away this weekend.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Anywhere. Anywhere without internet or Wi-Fi.” He pulls me into his lap sideways.

  My eyes dart toward the window. Stacy passes us, sees us, averts her gaze, and keeps walking. Helder in accounting then walks by from the other direction, doing the same.

  “That doesn’t sound terrible. Except that I have to keep an eye on our social media accounts.” I have alerts on my phone to watch our reputation. “We’ve got lots of traffic outside those windows, best let me up,” I say, trying to get out of his lap. He’s got a firm hold on me.

  “Get Kieran or an intern to do it. If shit with my mother gets linked to the company, or rather when it does, it’ll be a shit show all week.” He starts tonguing my earlobe. “Have a feeling sparks are gonna be flyin’ all week long, in fact. A getaway might be good. Maybe we’ll take off tomorrow night and have a long weekend.”

  I make a sour face. “Yeah. Well, it’s one of the things I’m paid to do so I should be doing it, not taking off to some sex lair with no cell signal.”

  He shrugs. “We’ll talk closer to the weekend, see where things are at. Now get off my lap, peaches. You’re making me hard. I haven’t fucked you in two days. I’m about to throw the blinds down and take you against your will.”

  I raise my eyebrows in challenge. “Against my what?”

  “Okay, with a safeword.” He snickers.

  He’s edgy today. He’s defiant today. I’m not sure if it’s sexy or a little bit scary.

  “I gotta get into my day,” I say, heading for the door. He follows. He then smirks deviously and grabs my ass and then kisses my collar bone and heads out of his office before I do.

  I look back at his desk at the two laptops sitting there side by side.

  I don’t know why, maybe because of the way he was just acting, but I walk behind his desk and take a look.

  His non-Carmichael laptop is bigger. Sleeker. It’s on a video channel home page with user ‘h8fux’ as the icon. There’s a video on-screen with a message that says “Your video has been uploaded.” There’s a Lingo email tab beside this video site tab.

  Oh my God.

  He didn’t.

  He didn’t upload those videos of Bella like he threatened.

  I tap the touchpad and open the email tab. There’s an email right there.

  From: h8fux@lmail.send

  To: AJWilson@, JaneWilson@, BellaWilson@, Jfrench@, BPhillips@ & 18 more…

  Bella starred in a h8fux video recently. See attached.

  Sincerely,

  H8fux

  H8Fux --- Want to be a star on our channel? PM us.

  ***

  There’s a video attached, and the icon thumbnail is her face with a dick in her mouth, the image taken from above, obviously taken by whoever she’s giving head to. She’s choking on it. She has mascara-tinted tears running down her face. The background of the photo? It’s not super-clear, but I recognize it. It’s the wall of black and white photos in Aiden’s living room.

  I sit there a minute, processing, until he’s back. He has a Starbucks in his hand and his eyes land on me.

  “Grabbed you one, too. It’s on your desk.”

  I straighten up and fold my arms across my chest. How I didn’t notice this from his lap, I don’t know. I guess I was focused on him.

  He shuts the door. He has his lips pursed.

  “Had to be done, Carly.”

  “I can’t believe you.”

  His eyes go big and he shrugs. “She deserved it. She knew the consequences of her actions. Figured she’d gott
en the videos off my phone when she cloned it. She figured wrong. I already had them aside.”

  “Are you insane?” I yell. I can’t contain my anger.

  He frowns at me and starts shutting the blinds one by one.

  “Are you?” I demand.

  “Hang on, peaches. Chill out.”

  “That’s your cock on the video!”

  “Yeah. But my face isn’t in it.”

  I choke on my astonishment. “There are pictures of Braeden on the wall in the background, Aiden. Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He startles and moves to the screen.

  “Do you really think I wanted to see your cock in her mouth, besides?” I snap.

  “You can’t make out the pictures of Braeden. Even if it’s blown up. And you shouldn’t have looked, peaches. Didn’t give you permission to click into any of that.”

  “Oh. My. God!” My head is going to explode. “This is unbelievable. Last night, when you saw how utterly broken I was at the idea that you’d hurt someone like that… you seemed like you gave a shit.”

  “I haven’t laid a finger on her, haven’t ordered anyone to lay a finger on her, Carly.”

  “No. You’ve destroyed her in a way that won’t heal like a black eye or bruises, Aiden.”

  “She’s trying to destroy me! She tried to take you away from me, make it so you’d leave me. She sold my mother’s shit to the press. Carly, if you think I’m just gonna let something like that go---” He shakes his head. “You and me are new but you can’t be shocked I’d retaliate.”

  “Retaliate with a sex video? Retaliate with your own dick in that video and send it to who? Who were those people?”

  “Her parents. Other people close to her parents. A big client of her father’s. Some of her friends.” He shrugs.

  I’m shaking my head; I’m blown away.

  “How many people have you done something like this to?” I ask.

  “Just her.”

  “Oh. You just happened to have video of her in case you needed it. How many more videos do you have of other girls?”

  “A few,” he says with a dead cold expression.

  And that dead expression in his eyes hurts me. It actually causes physical pain. I feel the tears welling up.

  He frowns at me. “This isn’t about you and me. Don’t make this shit about you and me. This is about that cunt fucking me over and about her having to pay for it.”

  “Oh. Right. And what happens if another ex crosses you? More videos of your dick go out there?”

  He shakes his head and laughs with a sneer on his face. “This isn’t about us, Carly. Go think on it. Think on the shit that cunt pulled. I don’t fight back, people fuck me over. I don’t fight back, people continually do their worst to blackmail, extort money, fuck my life up. Fuck that. Fuck that!”

  “Got any sex videos of me in case I piss you off, Aiden?”

  “No,” He snaps looking into my eyes. “I’d never do that to you.”

  “Right,” I scoff.

  He backs me up against the door. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I don’t.” He has my chin in his hand. His hold is gentle but his eyes? They’re furious.

  “Let me go.”

  “This isn’t about you and me,” he grinds out, eyes flaring with fury.

  “No. It’s about you. It’s about you being a cold-hearted prick. What if one day I upset you. What are you gonna do? Even if you don’t have a video of me. What kind of wrath will I face? I can’t believe you’d do this. I can’t believe I was wrong about you. You’re still the same guy who said that about me on that recording. The guy who tried to fuck me over by screwing with the family business to make me look bad when you thought I was … whatever you thought I was. I was kidding myself thinking you weren’t that same guy. You might not think you could hurt me like you’re hurting her, but Aiden… what if you do? I can’t be in love with someone who could be this callous, this cold-hearted. Do Bella’s mother and father deserve to see their daughter like this? Even if Bella is a BFC? You’re not just hurting her with this, Aiden.”

  He stares at me, grinding his jaw.

  I shake my head. “I gotta go. I’m going home. I don’t feel well. I’ll ask Stacy and Blake to take care of my stuff.”

  He slaps the wall beside me. “Carly, don’t.”

  “Let go of me.” I dash tears away and see black wetness on the back of my hand. Tears are making mascara tracks down my face now.

  He steps back, glaring at me.

  I stomp out of there, go right to my desk, snap my laptop shut and grab my purse and jacket. I walk straight out without speaking to anyone.

  Once outside, I send an email to Stacy asking her to please cover for me as I have an emergency and need to leave.

  I text Ally, too.

  “I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m finished processing. You’ve become an amazing BFF in a very short time. I’m going to miss you.”

  A text comes through fast.

  “Where the f are you going? This sounds like goodbye? We heard the windows practically rattling with you two arguing. What happened?”

  I can’t answer her. I’m crying too hard. I hail a cab outside and take it back to the condo and pack up my stuff.

  Ally: “I’m calling BFF rules right now. No processing. Talk to me now. Tell me where you went and I’ll come to you.”

  I don’t have the energy to answer Ally when my heart is crumbling in my chest.

  This is horrible. He might want to be someone who isn’t so cold and heartless, but I can’t be with someone who could so callously destroy lives like that, even if he swears it won’t happen to me.

  I can’t wage war and fight back. I can’t pretend it’s in me. It’s not me. I’m not Carly 2.0. I’m just not built that way.

  I broke almost all of my Carly 2.0 rules, except the F-word one. I’m not Carly 2.0; I’m just Carly.

  47

  AIDEN

  It has been a week since she left. A week of hell. And I’m about to put an end to it.

  She stormed out of my office and out of my life.

  I stayed at work until midnight that night, working, being a stubborn asshole with the door shut and the blinds closed, expecting to come home to more of a fight with her, but my apartment was just empty. She left the spare room just as she’d found it. No trace of her there except a bunch of banana Post-its strangely tucked into her drawer. She was saving them.

  Fuck me. That was when I sat on the floor in her room and drank almost a whole bottle of bourbon. And my life has been shit for a solid week.

  The next morning, my father was at my apartment, standing over me where I was passed out on her bedroom floor, telling me Carly had tried to tender her resignation by email to him.

  “I refused it. I told her to take a week and think about it. We’d cover her.”

  “She’s done with me,” I said.

  And then I told him what I did. I told him how I fucked back the bitch who did that to me. I told him how I’d fuck over anyone who fucked me first, that fucked Audra over. I did it red-faced and rage-filled, and expected him to be proud of me or something.

  And he was so fucking disappointed in me, it hurt. It fucking hurt.

  He told me to take the day off, to think about my actions. I was still holding my anger in. I refused. I went it late and I kept working, kept ripping into my employees and making them cower.

  Ally showed up at my apartment door that night, wanting to talk to Carly.

  “She left,” I told her. “She must’ve gone back to Buffalo.”

  “Why?” Ally asked. “What happened with you two?”

  “I’m an alpha male asshole, I guess.” I shrugged. “Now go.” I opened the door and waved her out.

  She gave me a supremely disappointed look. “You’re gonna be sorry if you don’t bust your ass to win her back.”

  She left. And then I put my fist through a wall.

  There are flowers on my dresser that are dying. There�
�s food in my fridge that is rotting. There’s her shampoo and conditioner in my shower beside my fucking pocket pussy, that hasn’t been used since she last used it on me. There’s the smell of her on my sheets.

  I told myself, fuck this shit. If she found it easy to cut and run just like that, maybe it was better I knew it now rather than down the road before she destroyed my heart.

  But a week later, and I know it was already too late. I’m gutted without her.

  I need to fix this.

  ***

  I get a text from Jude while I’m on the way to the airport. The text is about a piece of jewelry at a shop in Rochester that matches the description of one of the photos. He’s had the shop owner put it aside for inspection.

  ***

  I fly to New York on day seven. I pick up my New York SUV, a Range Rover that’s parked in the underground garage at the condo, and drive toward Rochester.

  I later head to Buffalo.

  When I pull into her driveway, a guy around mid-forties steps out. I recognize him from the photos on the walls. Carly’s father, Darryl Adler.

  He stands on the side door step and folds his arms across his chest. He’s tall, thin, dark hair and glasses. Carly’s got his eyes.

  I step out of the car and approach.

  “Mr. Adler?”

  “You the sonofabtich that broke my baby girl’s heart?”

  Fuck. Fuck me.

  “That would be me.”

  “Get in there ‘n fix it,” he orders and jerks his head to the door. “She’s in my TV room. She don’t belong in there. Can’t watch my shows. She’s watchin’ some stupid sitcom my wife says she watched with you. Get down there and get me my man cave back.”

  “Yes sir,” I say and open the storm door.

  Fuck. That went easier than I expected. But, next comes the hard part.

  I’ve got a leather backpack slung over one shoulder. I step into the kitchen.

  Charlene Adler is at the counter, frosting a cake. She looks over her shoulder at me and gives me a cold look.

  “I’m sorry for hurting her,” I say, not wanting this woman to hate my guts.