“I’m not in love with you. I never was.” The words are so rough they sear my throat.
Hurt shines back in her eyes. “Like hell! You used to say it. Were you lying to me then or are you lying now? It only goes two ways, Nicholas.”
I sigh.
“I was young and stupid. You still had a shred of a soul, and you were my friend. We grew up together. I thought...I thought I was in love with you once, but you became a habit. A terrible one. No different from the fucking bottle, which you were always happy to share. It’s hard to tell what was worse when you were always there to help push me off the cliff.”
Her mouth drops with a gasp.
I’ve finally shocked her into silence.
I don’t even enjoy it.
“Asshole, if you don’t tell me which memory card it is, I’m taking them all!” she hisses.
Fuck. I can only think of one way to end this crap that stops Carmen from popping up with new threats. When I go through with it, I’ll lose Reese. My career will go with her, and so will what’s left of my public reputation.
“Carmen, you asked if I would hurt you?” I say quietly.
“Will you?” She blinks, hesitation on her face.
“What I’m about to do will hurt you—just not like you think. And it’s bound to hurt me a whole lot more.” I’m going to lose the only thing I’ve ever cared about, but there’s no other way to end this, not when I’m backed into a corner.
Sighing, I take out my phone and start slowly snapping pictures of the white powder strewn across the floor, my bedspread, her dress, my shirt. I walk right past her, leaving her bewildered and stumbling after me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, catching her balance against the wall.
I get another picture of Carmen—with blinding flash—her red dress splattered with white doom.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks again, spitting venom.
“Hurting myself. Hurting the woman I love who doesn’t deserve this bull, and probably hurting a lot of good people in the process who looked up to me as their boss. I’m hurting you, hurting everything, and I take no delight in it. And I’d do it a thousand times over if it means ending your games before they can hurt anyone worse.”
She’s quiet for a long minute while I continue hovering around the condo, capturing everything speckled with white dust.
“Why are you taking pictures? You don’t have my permission,” she whines nervously.
I snort at the irony.
“Funny. You don’t have my permission to be in my home pawing through my things either, but here you are.”
“What is this?” she asks again.
I don’t answer until I’m almost done typing out a brief email to Roland Osprey with the images attached.
This is it.
My self-destruct sequence, and it’s meant to bring her down in the process.
The only way to protect Reese and her heart is to expose my train wreck of a life. Carmen doesn’t have the sex video, but even if she did, it won’t matter.
I’m getting everything out in the open while she has no leverage.
If my prayers are answered, and Sutton follows up on that warehouse, Will Frisk’s hours are numbered. He’ll be arrested sooner or later.
I’m also fairly certain Abby will be a free woman after Will’s in custody. Cops aren’t dumb. They’ll figure out he’s the culprit.
That leaves making sure Reese isn’t dragged into my shitshow once the cocaine in my room gets traced back to Frisk. That means protecting her from me.
Roland Osprey, vulture that he is, still refuses to write stories without total confirmation. Maybe he’s not as much of a jackass as I thought.
I feel an eerie sense of relief sending him these naked pictures of my life. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I ever feared the sex tape leaking at all, when this is just as vulnerable, and just as damning.
With the mail finished and the new photos locked and loaded, I hold my phone up for Carmen to see.
She staggers back like she’s been shot in the chest.
“Wh-what? You can’t be serious? Why would you send those pictures to Osprey? You’ll ruin us both!”
“You’re bent on destroying our lives anyhow. This way, I beat you to it, and you won’t have anything to threaten me with anymore, Carmen. I’m doing us a favor,” I grind out.
“I was trying to help, you stupid, stupid man!” she spits, shaking her fists. “And after you hammered my heart to smithereens and put it through a blender.”
“Carmen, you don’t want me. You want the idea of me,” I say slowly.
“The idea of you? What the hell? A guy with rich grandparents who isn’t nearly as successful as his older brother? There has to be more than one chump in the world who fits that profile. Sorry.”