Home > Final Call (Call #2)(50)

Final Call (Call #2)(50)
Author: Emma Hart

“That’s far too much information.” Tyler snorts, shutting the laptop down. “It’ll take a few days to edit these, but when they’re done, I’ll email you them so you can pick the ones you want for your portfolio. Then I’ll put it together and email it out. A different name, right?”

I nod. “I don’t want anyone at the company recognizing my name. I’ve never met any of the agents, so there’s no chance they’ll recognize me. Is that crazy?”

Tyler shakes his head. “Nope. Perfectly sane. Until you have to explain you’re not Maria Espinoza Barielles.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass on that one. I’ll think the name up myself, thank you very much.” I grin and grab the ringing phone. “Hello?”

“Miss Black? There’s a letter downstairs for you. It was just delivered,” Jasper, the guy on security, says.

“Oh. That’s strange. Do you know who delivered it?”

“No, ma’am. I’m sorry. It was delivered by a courier.”

My heart pounds dangerously loud in my chest, and I close my eyes. “Can you have it brought up?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Jasper.”

I set the phone on the cradle and wrap my arms around my stomach. My hands are shaking, and I barely hear Tyler asking me what’s wrong. I just shake my head and open the door when there’s a knock before taking the letter from Jasper.

I drop it on the bar in the kitchen and stare at it. The handwriting is the same. No postmark. No stamp. Just a scrawling mass of letters that makes up my name and my address.

“Dayton?” Tyler rests a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s another letter. She knows I’m living here now.”

“Fuck.” His fingers flex and he drops his hand. He rounds the bar and stands opposite me, clenching the countertop. “Are you going to open it?”

“What choice do I have?” I ask weakly, picking it up and flipping it over. I slide my pinkie beneath the flap just like I did last time and pull out the scrap of paper.

One week. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun? It’s a shame you told Tyler… I’ll let it pass. You’re getting desperate, after all. But if you tell Aaron…the world will meet Mia Lopez.

I drop it like it’s burning my fingers and squeeze my eyes shut. “Fuck. Fuck, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k!”

The volume of my voice rises until the word echoes off the walls. Fear and anxiety run rife through my body, constricting my throat and sending my heart into a dangerously crazy rhythm. My eyes blur with unshed tears, and as I gulp for air, I feel two hands rest on my upper arms.

“Dayton. Calm down. Day, Jesus. You have to breathe, love. Come on.”

I shake my head, rubbing my hands across my arms to stop the cold. The room is spinning. I can’t breathe and I can’t think and all that’s real is the frantic rushing of blood through my body. It’s coupled with adrenaline and a fear so strong it consumes me.

Until his voice breaks through and the touch of his hand on my cheek bats it away.

“Dayton. Breathe for me, sweetheart,” Aaron says softly. “Come on now. Breathe.”

I take a deep breath in.

“That’s it. And out. And back in. That’s better.” He wraps his arms around me, and I realize we’re on the floor.

How did we get here?

How did I get here?

Aaron kisses my forehead as I continue breathing steadily, and I brush tears from my cheeks. He holds me until I’ve calmed down and my heart is beating somewhat more normally.

“I’m glad you were here,” Aaron says over his shoulder to Tyler.

“Sorry I pulled you from your meeting, cuz.”

Aaron shakes his head. “Fuck the meeting. The contract will still be there tomorrow morning.” He turns to me. “What’s wrong?”

There’s nothing but compassion and worry in his eyes, and a stab of guilt hits me in the stomach. Jesus. I should have told him. I should have been honest. I never should have kept this to myself. I’ve been so f**king stupid.

“I have to tell you something,” I whisper.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

I glance up at Tyler, holding my breath, and he nods. “Naomi came to see me just before we went to London.”

Aaron’s whole body tenses. “What?”

I rub my hands over my face and stand, leaning on the bar. “She wasn’t happy with the divorce settlement, and she came to ask me for money.”

Tyler snorts, and I see Aaron’s eyes flit between us.

“You knew about this?” he directs at his cousin.

Tyler nods, and I see anger wash over Aaron’s features when he faces me.

“She asked you for money? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“She didn’t…ask…so much as blackmail me,” I finish in a small voice.

“How much?”

“Two and a half million.”

“What the f**king hell, Dayton!”

“She gave me four weeks to get it to her, and I have one week left.”

Aaron takes a few deep breaths and waits for me to continue.

“When I went home after London, there was a letter waiting, and today, there was one delivered here.” I look accusingly at the paper in front of me. “She’s keeping tabs on me. She knows Tyler knows and she said if I told you all bets were off.”

“All bets for what? What could she possibly know about you that she could hold over your head?”

I hand him the paper. “She knows I was a call girl. If I don’t pay, she’s threatening to expose my past and destroy your business.”

Aaron’s eyes skim over the words in front of them and close briefly. When they open again, I see nothing but pure anger. It’s a rage so fierce that it scares me a little—and even more so from knowing that some of that is directed at me.

Because I did what I condemned him for.

But I did it worse. I put his whole life on the line because of my own fear.

He drops the paper and walks out without a word. The apartment door slams behind him, the sound ricocheting around the room with a finality that settles deep inside me.

I look at Tyler. “Go,” I whisper. “He needs you more than I do. I don’t deserve to need you.”

He looks at me uncertainly, but I merely nod my head. I don’t want him here. I can feel the pressure building in my chest, and I don’t want him here when it bursts. He crosses the room and kisses the side of my head before following Aaron out the door.

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