I wrap my arms around him, my position appearing to mirror his as far as the observer behind us is concerned. My fingers slowly work to slightly lift the fabric of his tee. Locating the familiar shape of my intended object, they wrap around the grip, slowly withdrawing it from the confines of his pants before dragging it around his torso and concealing it between our bodies.
Mav has me tuck the gun into the front of my shorts, which is thankfully concealed now by the hoodie I threw on prior to coming down here.
“You ready to go fishing?” Mav repositions his arm around my shoulder, pulling me alongside him as we begin strolling down the block away from our mystery photographer.
“Fuck yes,” I offer in eager agreement as my arm wraps around his torso, hoping this dumbass falls prey to our trap.
We reach the end of the block, banging a left around the corner, which allows Mav to sneak another inconspicuous glance. “Showtime,” he whispers as he smiles down at me.
Taking note of the approaching alley on our left, I offer him a final squeeze to his side before my arm drops, allowing me to dip off into the shadows while Mav continues on. Our stalker hasn’t rounded the corner yet, giving me an advantage in regard to my hiding spot. This particular alcove is really less of an alley and more a narrow sliver that opens up to a larger adjacent alley. However, this side is not accessible to everyone. Mav would never be able to fit here, so he gets to be the bait.
I stand in place, holding my breath as I listen for the sounds of approaching footsteps. Slowly, my hand withdraws the gun as I await the opportunity to end this. I don’t hear their approach, but then the figure passes by me, unaware of my location as they continue in their pursuit of Maverick. I hop out from the shadows, lunging for their shoulder and pulling them back into me as I dig the barrel of the gun into their back.
A slight yelp escapes their throat, and I don’t miss the way their body trembles within my grasp. The camera slips from their hands, coming to rest suspended from their neck by a thick strap.
“Please,” the small voice whimpers, and I’m thrown off as I realize she’s a woman. It’s just then I notice her size—comparable in height to me with a lean frame. I reach up, ripping the hood of her sweatshirt back, exposing her long brown locks.
“Val?!” Mav’s voice calls out from up ahead. I look to him, taking in the expression of sheer shock and confusion plastered across his face. “Val, what the fuck?” He jogs back to where we stand, his eyes glaring into her as she looks away in shame.
“I’m so sorry, Maverick,” her apology slips out as a strangled cry. “She made me do it.”
***
We’re upstairs in the apartment, seated once again at our dining room table. Only this time, the space feels more like an interrogation room. Val sits at the head of the table, eyes red rimmed with tears, as Maverick towers over her from where he stands at her side. I’ve positioned myself in the chair adjacent to hers, where I sit silently assessing her form.
“Val works for me,” Maverick addresses me, though continues to glare at her. “She’s one of my housekeepers. Lives in the commune in Hydetown. She’s been with me for years.”
My gaze shifts back to the woman before me who can’t be more than thirty, her body trembling with quiet sobs. Looking to the camera resting on the table in front of her, I’m surprised to see it’s of such high quality.
“So, you’re what?” I begin. “Housekeeper by day, rogue paparazzi by night?”
She shakes her head. “It’s a hobby. I like to take pictures of nature. Flowers, sunrises, stuff like that. Sometimes I even sell some of my prints here in Queen City at one of the galleries.”
“Thanks to the camera that me and the guys bought you for Christmas a few years back,” Mav seethes, crossing his arms over his chest.
She shrinks away from him, her eyes closing as more tears slip free.
Something doesn’t make sense. She’s not just scared she’s caught; she’s devastated that she’s disappointed Maverick. Her words from earlier replay in my mind, raising more questions.
“Outside, you said, ‘She made me do it.’ Who made you do what?”
More tears slip free as she launches into an explanation. “I made a mistake. I should have known better when she invited me out for drinks months ago, but I felt bad for her. I thought maybe she was just desperate for a friend.” Val swipes at her eyes before continuing. “We went to some bar in Middleburgh. I don’t remember much, but I woke up the next morning in some guy’s bed. She was there too. They had a video of me doing really horrible things with him, but I swear I don’t even remember leaving the bar.” Her sobs become louder, my heart splintering in my chest as I listen to her recall the way she was violated.
I hop up, running to the living room to grab a box of tissues, which I place in front of her upon my return. Val stills, looking up at me with pained eyes before she hesitantly reaches for them.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I drag my seat closer to her before dropping back down. Reaching my hand across the table, I grip hold of her palm, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Keep going.”
She nods slowly, pulling another tissue from the box before continuing. “They blackmailed me. Said if I didn’t follow you guys around and take pictures that they’d release the tape. Mav…” She looks to him. “I couldn’t risk Nathan seeing it.”
“Nathan?” I ask.
“My son,” she responds, lip quivering. “He’s eight. His dad and I don’t have the best relationship. We’ve been to court over custody a few times already. This would give him all the ammo he needs to take sole custody of him.”
“Hey,” I state, holding her gaze with an unwavering stare. “We’re not gonna let that happen. But I need you to tell me. You need to tell me who made you do this.”
She nods, inhaling deep in effort to steady herself. “Amber,” she says at last. “Amber made me do it.”