Fall From Grace

“Why were you so surprised that I was here?”

He looks at me curiously, and I smile at him. “Evie told me I was meeting with her. I guess I just didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”

He lifts the glass sitting next to him and takes a long sip of the amber liquid. “Well, like I said, I’ve heard all about you.”

I give him a demure look. Praying to God that the information I had made up really did make it to him in honest form. Brea Davidson has been my false name for years whenever it comes to escorts and sex rings.

His finger goes back to his bottom lip. “Usually I’d have Evie meet with you and then invite you to a party to meet our clients. But I changed my mind with you.”

“You don’t want me to work for you?” I ask curiously, anxiety overtaking me again with the look in his eyes.

He shakes his head at me. “I wanted to see for myself how good you are at this job,” he says as he unbuckles his pants.

I knew I was going to have to sleep with someone to get evidence for this story, but I never thought it would be the senator in essentially what is my interview. I grip the sides of the chair, my heart racing.

You’re going to give yourself away.

Jonathon clears his throat and stands, his hard cock evident through his boxer briefs from the way his pants hang open. He walks toward me, and I look up at him as he stands in front of me.

“Ms. Davidson, you know what you’re supposed to do.”

I nod, my fingers trembling as I reach toward his pants, but before I can touch him, his hand wraps around my throat as he lifts me from my chair and backs me into the wall.

“For such a good escort, you seem scared,” he breathes against my ear.

“Just nervous,” I manage to get out steadily as I try to reach between his legs.

He brushes my hand away. “Maybe that’s because you are lying to me.”

I shake my head as his knee goes between my legs, shoving them apart.

“Are you sure?” he asks as his fingers slide under my skirt.

I suck in a breath as his fingers grip my thigh.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Ms. Prescott?” he growls into my ear.

My eyes bulge out as he uses my real name.

“You think you can find a way into my life. Fuck me over?” His hand tightens on my throat. “I know what you are doing. And I suggest you forget about this little story of yours. Before I fuck you and your career.”

“Please,” I mutter, scared of what he will do.

“Get the fuck out of my hotel room. And drop this fucking story before you regret ever thinking about crossing paths with me. You try to find another source, I’ll blacklist you. You print the story? Your life will be over.”

He steps back and pushes me to the ground as he lets go of my throat. I take a deep breath as he adjusts himself and buttons his pants.

I watch him as I pull myself off the ground and reach for my clutch.

He grabs it from me, snapping it open, and pulls out my recording device, smashing it on the ground with his shoe. “That will be your entire life, smashed to pieces. Drop the damn story.”

He throws the bag at my feet and I quickly pick it up and rush out of the hotel room, to the elevator and out to my car.

* * *

My knuckles are white, my fists curled tightly in my lap as I sit in my boss’s office. I told her I needed to talk to her about my article. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at me as we were pouring coffee in the break room. And I know she knows. She knows I failed. I didn’t listen to her warnings about this article.

And I normally wouldn’t give up so easily. But the day after Williams’s warning, I reached out to Alana. She told me if she even thought about speaking to me, her life would be on the line. I reached out to two more sources, and I was shut down. Then I got the picture. It was shoved under my door. Nothing else was with it. No words of warning. The picture was enough. Alana was dead. And I knew it was because she talked to me.

But I can’t be mad about my failure. I took the risks. I did what I had to do to make it in this competitive world. It just didn’t work out. But I have another idea for a story, nothing nearly as eye opening as the sex ring, but still something. She can’t fire me.