36 Inches (Size Matters 3)

“I said I’m coming!” I shout again, already grabbing the handle. I turn it fast and pull on it. I look up then, half-expecting to see a delivery guy on a tight schedule, but that’s not who my eyes meet.

“Hello, Cara,” Sienna smiles, her hair like a bowl that someone glued to her head. Eek, I’d never leave the house if my hair was in such a state.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her, never taking my hand off of the door. I’m more than ready to slam it shut. Of course, she seems to be anticipating that already; she puts one foot inside my apartment, just in case I decide to close the door. What she doesn’t know is that I don’t mind if I break her foot. In fact, I’d be more than happy to do it.

“I’m here with a proposal,” she tells me, that disturbing smile never leaving her lips. Sidestepping me fast, she steps inside my apartment and, with both hands on her hips, she stares at me appraisingly. “How would you like to your old job back, Cara?”

“My...old job?” I repeat, not entirely sure if I heard it right.

“Or maybe you’d like to be my co-author? How does that sound?” She continues, her unblinking eyes never leaving mine. I feel my skin prickling under her gaze, and a cold shiver travels up my spine.

“So, are you that desperate?” I tell her, finally finding the words I was looking for. “You found out you didn’t get the right drive, huh?” I thought my words would be like a punch to her, but she barely seems to have registered them. Instead, her smile just widens.

“Don’t be a fool, Cara,” she says, lowering her voice. “I’m offering you one last chance. If you decide to go up against me ... well, the consequences will be dire, Cara. And I won’t be able to help you.”

“What are you even talking about?” I ask her, but I feel my lips growing dry with each passing second. There’s some piece of information I’m missing in here, and I sure as hell don’t like to be playing a game when I don’t know what the rules are.

“It’s quite simple, actually. All you have to do is expose you little friends. Mason, Derek, and Parker.”

“You want me to turn against them?”

“Not exactly. I just want you to be truthful. You always prided yourself in your outstanding morals, so this falls right in your zone of comfort, doesn’t it?” She continues, and that cold shiver in my spine turns into a block of ice. “Just sign a statement and admit that Naughty Angel publishing was behind the break in. Just tell the truth, Cara, and there might be some hope for you.”

Tightening my grip on the door’s handle, I have to fight against the urge to slap her head off. Thankfully, just one look at her hideous haircut and I manage to control myself.

>

“You’re insane, Sienna,” I whisper, taking one step back. “You’re so jealous of the success others fought so hard for that you're willing to do anything, aren’t you?”

“I’m ambitious,” she shrugs casually, almost as if she was commenting on the weather. “Is that so big of a sin?”

“Fuck you, Sienna,” I growl through my gritted teeth. “That’s the only thing I’ve got to tell you.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” she shrugs again, her smile widening some more. Then, she reaches into her purse and fishes out of her phone, placing it against her ear.

“Yes?” She says to whoever is on the other side of the line, her eyes never leaving mine. “She’s right in front of me. Send them in.”

Chapter 21

Cara

“What are you doing?” I ask her, simply watching as she stuffs her phone inside her purse. I have no idea who she was just talking to, but judging by the grin on her face ... well, it can’t be good. But then again, nothing good ever happens when Sienna’s involved.

“You made your bed, Cara,” she tells me, taking one step toward me. Reacting by instinct, I take one step back and bump against my couch. “Now you’re gonna have to lay on it,” she continues, and as she finishes speaking I hear the elevator doors open on my floor, that characteristic ding feeling like a bad omen.

Then there’s the sound of heavy boots rushing down the hallway and, before I even realize what’s happening, at least a dozen men in blue uniforms storm into my apartment. They flow around Sienna as they walk in, completely ignoring her, and I feel my heart drop as I notice the FBI jackets these men are wearing. Federal agents in my apartment? What the hell’s going on?

“What do you think —?” I start to say, but one of the men, a six foot giant with a balding head and an earpiece, stops me mid sentence.

“We have a warrant,” he informs in that casual tone of someone that has done this courtliness times before. He shoves a document into my hands and, even though I look down at it, I can’t read any of the lines I see in there. All I notice is a court’s stamp of approval.

“What’s going on?” I ask Sienna as the men swarm into every room of my apartment, opening drawers and pushing the furniture out of its place.

“What’s going on,” she tells me, closing the distance between me and her and whispering these words into my ear, “is that you didn’t want to play nice. Now you’re paying the price.”

Taking a step back, she turns toward the federal agent running point on the operation, the tall bald guy, and points with her chin toward me. “That’s the one,” she tells me, her grin from before now giving way to a thin line of contempt. “She was the one stealing copyrighted content from Naughty Angel Publishing. She’s the one you’re looking for.”

I have to blink twice as I try to process her words. Me? Stealing copyrighted content from Naughty Angel? What the hell has Sienna been smoking? Her new haircut must have fried whatever brain cells she had left in that hollow skull of hers.