“Someone sent me a . . . a tape.” She drops her eyes and worries the corner of her mouth with her teeth. “A sex tape.”
My mind races to all the implications of someone seeing us together. Why would they go to her with it when I’m the one with all the money?
“They came to you with our sex tape? But why—”
“Not you,” she cuts in, eyes still averted. “You’re not on the tape.”
“But you just said . . .” My words die right alongside a chunk of my sanity. “Who? Who is on that damn tape, Pep?”
“It’s me.” She finally looks at me, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “It’s me and Drex. From that night. I swear I had no idea he was recording us.”
Her admission topples any semblance of calm and rationality I clung to. It all falls down. Rage rises. Finally, a legitimate reason to have Gep find a secret way to kill that piece of shit.
“So Drex is the one threatening you?”
Years of hatred and resentment wrap around the words, choking them like weeds in my throat. That viper has found ways to make life difficult for me since the day we met in high school. Him fucking Petra, that was one thing. Him sabotaging my first album release, that was another. And he’s found dozens of ways through the years to piss me off, but this? Him threatening Kai with some bullshit tape from that one fucking night is too much.
“I don’t know if it’s him actually making the threats. I assume he has something to do with it obviously.” Kai covers her eyes. “We’ve been looking for him, but he’s disappeared.”
“We?” Pieces of information begin clicking into slots, forming a clearer picture. “When did he threaten you? Yesterday when I left?”
She couldn’t have let even a day go by without telling me this. Right?
“Pep?” She shifts on my lap, head lowered again. “When?”
“It was at the beginning of the tour.” She directs the words down, unable to meet my eyes.
“Three months ago? He threatened you three months ago, and you’re just telling me? What the hell?”
“We weren’t together at first, and I . . . I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“You tell me. That’s what you fucking do. Three months? And what about when we were together again? For the last six weeks you knew this and didn’t even mention it?”
“I thought . . . I thought I could handle it.”
“And what’s he demanding? What are the terms? Money?”
“No, not money.” She gives me a cautious glance. “Whoever it is only demanded that I not be with you.”
Whatever I thought rage was, it was a pale imitation of the fury that pounds in my temples when she says that.
“Is that why you didn’t want to go public?” I demand. “I mean the real reason, not the lie you fed me about not wanting to detract attention from your tour.”
“I did what I thought was best, Rhyson, for both of us. To protect you.”
“Bullshit. You did it to protect yourself. At least be honest with yourself since being honest with me obviously isn’t important to you. And that sounds eerily like my rationale when I took matters into my own hands with Total Package.”
“I know. I made a mistake, too.”
“You said we hit reset. We promised we wouldn’t lie to each other, and that’s all you’ve done for the last six weeks. I went to counseling with my parents for you.”
“That was for you, Rhyson.” She shakes her head, eyes barely holding mine. “You know it was the right thing.”
“Not the point, Pep. I went into counseling with my parents, whom I haven’t spent more than twenty-four hours with in over a decade, for you. So that you would know I’m serious about figuring out my shit. So that you’d know I’m serious about us having a healthy relationship, and you do this? Behind my back you hide this?”
I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth a few times, truly struggling to bring my temper under control.
“I lied first. I know that. I deserved your anger, your silence.” I take a moment before looking at her. “But when you said you forgave me, I never planned to lie to you again. We hit reset, and it meant the world to me. So finding out you lied—well, that spits on everything.”
“Rhys, let me explain—”
“So this piece of shit contacted you three months ago.” I can’t deal with her right now. I need to focus on him. “What’s happened since?”
“Well, you and I haven’t been public, of course, so he hadn’t bothered me at all.” She closes her eyes, folding her lips in before continuing. “But then that Spotted piece came out the other day speculating about us, and he contacted me again. Texted me threatening to release the tape if I didn’t stay away from you.”
A threatening text?
“That unknown number in the shed?” I demand. “Was that him?”
She nods mutely, eyes afraid of the anger I know is building in my expression. It has to be because I can’t hold it in any longer.
“You told me that was San.” My voice has climbed to a yell. “You lied to my face. God, Pep, was any of that true that night? Has any of it been true? If you could—”