Taint(68)

Breaking News…

This Just In…

Shocking Truth Revealed…



Same bullshit, different headline. But all I can see is a face, a name. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, crying false tears of remorse and longing.



Evan Carr’s shocking revelation: I sent my wife to the sex doctor

In a press release earlier today, Evan Carr revealed that he regrettably sent wife, Allison Elliot-Carr to celebrity sex therapist, Justice Drake, under the pretense that Drake was an intimacy professional, NOT a sexual deviant.

“When we first were told about Mr. Drake and his practice, we thought it would help Allison build her confidence and become in touch with her sexuality,” said the socialite. “We signed up with the assumption that it would be positive for our marriage. Little did we know what Justice Drake was really about. I would have never put my wife in this situation had I known.”

A tearful Carr goes on to say that he is doing everything in his power to locate his wife and bring her back. “Her place is with me,” he says. “Not with some hack that sold us a lie. I can’t even imagine what he could be doing to Ally and God knows who else.”

Evan Carr provided details of the enrollment forms, saying that the women would be sent to an undisclosed location where they could have no contact with the outside world for six weeks. When asked about Justice Drake’s identity, Carr shook his head.

“No one has ever seen him. I can’t even be sure that he’s a man. All contact has been through his PR or email.”

Drake’s publicist, Heidi DuCane, was unavailable for comment.



I dial the illusive blonde next, my heartbeat pounding painfully in my head.

“You’re lucky I have shit to do,” Heidi says after picking up on the first ring. “I wanted to storm your little love nest and drag your ass out of there.”

“Where are you?” My voice is gruff with sleep and aggravation.

“Headed back to New York, but had to make a stop first.” She pauses to give the driver instructions to a hotel on Michigan Ave. “Something came up and I want to check it out.”

“You’re in Chicago?”

“Yeah. Art is meeting me here.”

I exhale heavily and lean back on the couch. Arthur Cambridge, III is my attorney. If he’s involved, something is up. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re being blackmailed, Justice. A few hours ago, I was sent an audio recording of you having sex. I don’t know who it was with, but the woman was very vocal. She kept calling you by your name. Know anything about that?”

I close my eyes and rub the tension collecting in my temples. “No. How do you know it’s not doctored?”

“We checked it out. It’s authentic. However, my team was able to trace the IP address back to Chicago.”

I almost smirk. “You have a team of hackers, Heidi?”

“Doesn’t everybody? And even if it is from years ago, we can’t take that risk. Not with the press calling for your head on a platter. I’m texting it to you now. Listen. Call me when you’re done.”

A message chimes a second later and I hang up with Heidi to open the attachment. Heavy breathing. Moaning. A sweet voice singing my name as I instruct her to fuck, then suck me.

I don’t need to hear anymore. I was there. Just yesterday, I was there.

I call Heidi back, and she answers immediately. “I have a pretty good idea who’s behind this, and I’m sure you do too.”

Erin.

Stupid fucking Erin.

I think back to when I took Ally right here on this very couch. I remember telling her to take off her shirt and then capturing her flawed beauty through the lens of my camera phone. Then my mouth was devouring her pink-tipped nipples and demanding she take off those ridiculously oversized boxers. And then I was deep inside her, losing myself to pleasure, my phone forgotten.

How the fuck did Erin get a recording of that? Hers was the last number I dialed, but the screen was locked. Had she called? Did we accidently graze that evil, little green icon, while Ally rode me like a cowgirl?

“We’re going to bury her,” Heidi continues. “Her grandchildren will be paying you their lunch money.”

I shake my head in frustration. “How much is she asking?”

Heidi makes a tsking sound. “Two million, which technically won’t kill you but still…”

“Give it to her.”

“What?”

“Tell Art to give it to her. Give her the money.”

Heidi’s voice goes a pitch higher than I’ve ever heard it. “You can’t be serious! That bitch is in direct violation of contract, and you want to reward her? She has nothing, Justice. There’s no way she can prove it was you-”