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Bluey clicked on the next folder, and they all made disgusted noises at photos depicting Zetta masturbating—still in Jesus drag—onto a Bible.

“This is so fucked up,” Billy said.

“No, my dear,” Flanger said, barely able to contain himself. “This is karma, and it’s delicious.”

Bluey clicked on another folder titled CHRISTMAS.

“This should be good,” he muttered.

These photos were the first ones to feature another person. Zetta was dressed in a loincloth and a wig, and even though it was supposed to be Christmas, he was sporting some fake bloody wounds on his wrists and ankles, and he was kneeling before a woman dressed as the Virgin Mary. She held a black veil to her face, only her hands visible. Bluey clicked through the photos, and they watched Zetta move from rubbing the woman’s feet to lying on the bed with his head in her lap, at which point, once again, he started masturbating.

They were near the end of the photo set when, in one photo, the woman’s hand was placed on top of Zetta’s head, a huge emerald ring on her right hand.

Billy grabbed the counter to steady himself. Harrison grabbed him.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?”

Billy stayed in his arms.

“Yes, what is it?” asked Flanger, intrigued. “Spit it out!”

“Um … I, uh … I know who that woman is,” he stammered. “We can’t sell these. We can’t. Oh fuck, Jesus, fuck.”

“That’s what she said,” Harrison quipped, proud of himself.

“Son, who is it?” Flanger implored seriously.

“It’s Gaynor. I’d know that gaudy-ass seventies ring anywhere.”

“Well, that’s why we’re all here.” Flanger put his arm around Billy. “To protect the innocent. We shall weed out the photos that she’s in before we send them anywhere. They haven’t gone anywhere yet, have they? Harrison? Bluey?”

“No, sir,” said Harrison.

“Well…,” said Bluey.

Billy grabbed Bluey by the collar of his shirt and shook him.

“Who the fuck did you send these to, you dirty fucking drug dealer?” he yelled. “Did you send these to Seamus?”

Bluey looked from Flanger to Harrison and finally made eye contact with Billy.

“No, you drama queen,” he said, pushing Billy’s arms away. “I sent them to my actual boss. I sent them to Crystal.”





CHAPTER 30

KARA WOKE FROM HER NAP nestled into the finest linens she’d ever felt against her skin. She stretched like a cat, lethargically. When she grabbed her phone to switch it off silent, she saw the screen was full of texts. She thumbed through them. Perry Pruitt, the reality show producer, then an all caps CALL ME from Amber, and a string of increasingly urgent texts from Gino, the paparazzi agent she’d dealt with for the Jimmy J photos. She felt her insides freeze. What if they wanted their money back?

She called Gino’s number. He answered immediately.

“Kara mia,” he purred. “So lovely for you to call. How’s Ojai?”

“What’s wrong?” she said, sounding every bit as panicked as she was trying not to sound. “Wait—how do you know where I am?”

Gino chuckled into the phone. “A little birdie told me that you were on a certain movie set this weekend.”

“Damn, you’re good at your job,” Kara marveled. “Well, maybe I am and maybe I’m not, but even if I was, I signed an NDA so I can’t send you any photos of the set.”

“It’s not the set I want, bella.” Gino was suddenly all business. “Remember how much you got paid for that shitty meme and a few other snaps from your phone? If you get me photos of Seamus and Nicola Wallace, I’ll get you five times as much.”

Kara froze at the mention of Nic’s name.

“I can’t, Gino; she’s my friend. They don’t want this to get out.”

“Kara, if I’m asking you about it, it’s already out. Don’t be a silly girl. If you don’t make this money this weekend, somebody will. I promise you.”

Kara took several deep breaths.

“I need a minute on this. Let me talk to Nic and see what she says.”

“NO,” Gino roared. “If you mention this to Nicola, I will finish you.”

“Hey, man, fuck you,” Kara began.

“Fuck me? No, it’s definitely a case of fuck you, you pathetic loser. If you jeopardize this, I’ll call Amber back and you’ll be off the show so fast your fucking ’fro won’t stop spinning for a week.”

Amber, Kara seethed. Of course Amber had sold her out.

“I don’t deserve to be spoken to this way,” she sniffed. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”