The Wedding Rescue, Book Four(2)
Taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart, I tapped out another text.
Sorry. I had to sneak out. Couldn’t rush. Just a few more minutes.
No response. Watching the city flash by outside the window of the cab, I tried to take Steven’s silence as a good sign. My eyes blurred as tears filled them. I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself, but I was having a hard time not adding self-pity to all the other emotions roiling inside me. I’d sworn to stay away from men. Then I’d met Dylan, and for once it seemed like I’d found a good man, one worth loving. Now I had to leave him to protect him from my previous terrible choice.
My future stretched before me, clouded by Steven. If he was back for more this time, what was to say he wouldn’t return over and over? Especially now that he had that video. I had no real way to get it from him. I could demand the phone he’d used to film it, but surely he’d already uploaded it to a cloud storage site or put in on a computer. I could never be sure all copies of it were truly gone. Never. It would always exist.
A tiny voice in my head whispered that Dylan could take care of this. He could make one call to Axel and the two of them would be all over it. Except if I didn’t face Steven in about two minutes, the video would be out there for the world to see and all the data recovery in the world couldn’t stop it. Steven was an asshole, but he was smart. Maybe if he’d given me a little more time to think this over, I could have come up with a better solution than giving in to blackmail. Twenty minutes had left me barely enough time to dress and flee the Delecta. Not even. Twenty minutes had just passed, and I was still a mile from my house.
Two minutes, I typed.
I’m on your back deck.
Great. The last place I wanted to be with Steven was alone in the dark. But we’d do this outside. I wasn’t letting that bastard in my house. The cab pulled onto my quiet residential street, lined with small bungalows like my own, all dark for the night. I lived in a community of families and older residents. No one would be up at this hour. I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
Exiting the taxi, I closed the door as quietly as I could and headed around the side of my house. My back deck came into view, enveloped in shadows. I couldn’t see Steven, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, watching me. I kept the spare key to the house in a hidden compartment under my deck, secured by a combination lock. I’d never had to use it before. I hoped the lock still worked. I waited a few seconds for Steven to show himself. When he didn’t, I decided to get the key. I’d have to move it later if Steven saw where I kept it. But I’d worry about that tomorrow. I had enough to stress over without adding about my spare key.
The combination lock was stiff, and I had to lay on my back in the gravel beneath the low deck, but I got the key. I was coming to my feet, shoving the key in my pocket, when Steven stepped out from behind a nearby tree.
I jumped in surprise, the heels of my sandals slipping in the gravel, but I managed to stay quiet. I really didn’t want to wake the neighbors. The family on the left side of the house had two young kids. They were sweet. On my right was Mrs. Carmody. She had ears like a hawk and hated noise. I was quiet, so it wasn’t usually a problem, but if she caught us skulking in the dark on my back deck, she’d call the police. That would be a problem.
“You’re alone,” Steven said, sounding oddly curious.
“What do you want?” I was surprised at how steady my voice was. Inside I was trembling with fear and rage.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be smart enough to ditch the guy. You almost hit the mother-load there, didn’t you? How’d you like my video? Hot, right? I must have jerked off watching you come five times already.”
“What do you want?” I hissed again, my stomach turning at the thought of Steven watching me with Dylan.
How had I ever thought I liked him? Looking at Steven in the shadows of my deck, he was completely unassuming. By all rights he should have looked like a dirty, greasy weasel. Instead he was blandly handsome. Blond hair in a conservative cut. Khakis. A dark blue polo shirt. An evil bastard wearing the costume of a normal, everyday guy, and I’d fallen for it.
“You don’t want to talk about my movie making skills? How about we talk about distribution? I can have that video up where the whole world can see it anytime. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”
“What. Do. You. Want?” I demanded one more time. If he wouldn’t tell me what he wanted, I couldn’t give it to him and make him leave me alone.
“I want your 401k,” he said. “I saw the statement in your files. You’ve got almost sixty grand in that thing. Sign it over to me and I’ll give you the video. And I don’t want you to see that guy again. Dylan Kane is a problem I don’t need. You go back to him, I show the video.”