Page 32 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

Wyatt.

Wyatt is wearing only a pair of jeans. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this! I hear Charlee in the background.

“Wyatt? Who is it?” She knows who. I know she knows.

I pick the box up and throw it at him. Before he can recover, I slap him as hard as I can. I turn around and quickly walk back to the car. He shouts my name, following after me, but I ignore him. I open the door and get in. He knocks on the glass, but I don’t bother looking at him as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Drive.” I growl. Keaton still doesn’t move. “Drive the damn car!” I snap.

Finally, he puts the car in reverse and violently jerks the wheel. I hear a painful scream and watch out of the corner of my eye as Wyatt holds his foot. As pissed as I am, it’s hard not to smile.

Keaton then slams on the brakes and jerks the gear shifter into park. He throws open the car door and walks around the car. I watch as he punches Wyatt so hard, he falls to the ground. He’s staring past Wyatt and pointing his finger. I follow his line of sight to find Charlee standing in nothing but her underwear. She’s casually leaning against the doorframe, completely comfortable in her own skin. Isn’t she cold? I guess the ice queen isn’t bothered by the cold.

Through the glass, I hear Keaton yell at her. “Don’t flatter yourself. That was for her, not you.”

He whispers something to Wyatt and then gives him a swift kick in his side. He comes back to the car. The tires squeal as we zoom out of the parking lot.

“You knew.” It’s not a question. I’m not asking him if he knew his ex cheated on him with my now…What is he to me? We weren’t serious, but we were something. “Now it all makes sense. Why didn’t you just tell me? Why all this? To hurt me too?”

“I didn’t know he would be there tonight. I assumed. But I could not have imagined that you would suggest going there. So no, this wasn’t part of my plan. It did work out nicely.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?!” I scream at him.

He is completely unfazed by my hysteria. “You wouldn’t have believed me. Seeing is believing.”

“You’re an ass.”

He pulls into the driveway of my house and turns the key. I open the car door and slam it shut. It was a childish tactic, but I don’t care. He gets out of the vehicle and follows me. I turn around to face him head on.

“No need to walk me to my door. You’ve made your point. Mission accomplished. Goodnight.” I turn around and begin walking toward the front door. He follows.

“What are you doing? Leave. Now.” He gently takes hold of my arm and moves his body between me and the entrance. “Do I really need to call the police?”

“Let’s go inside.”

“No.”

“Yes. We need to talk.”

“Wanna talk? How about you accused me of being immature and vindictive, but look what you just did tonight?”

“Difference. Not much of one, but there is one.”

We’re at a stand-off. Neither one of us moves or even blinks for that matter. When I can’t stand staring into his ruggedly handsome face, I let out an unladylike huff.

“Fine. Let’s go to the guest house. If you want—we can drive around. There’s a driveway entrance—”

“I know where it is.”

We head out of the main house’s circular driveway and then make a right at the end of the street. The guest house has its own entrance, so if we do have visitors, they have more privacy. Trent and Rachel lived there for a while before they found their own place. Before Keaton has shifted into park, I throw open the door and stomp up the rest of the driveway. I key in the security code and open the door. As if he’s been here a dozen times, Keaton strolls in and begins turning on the lights. Maybe he did come over here when Rachel and Trent lived here.

“Please don’t be shy. Make yourself at home.” I remove my shoes as I watch him. Then in as much of a bitchy tone as I can muster, I sneer, “Although, don’t make yourself too comfortable, seeing as you won’t be staying long. Say what you need to say and get out.”

He chuckles and flops down on the couch. “Two things, Sweetheart. One, you told Charlee that I’d be here. Mission not complete until my car is spotted here all night. Don’t think they won’t check. Two, our agreement had nothing to do with them. Did I say I’ll cover for you if you make Charlee jealous? Nope. Our terms were you’re mine for two months.” He pats the space next to him on the couch and whispers, “This is only day one. Fun’s just gettin’ started.”

I look around in disbelief. “Are you planning to spend the night? My parents will freak out.”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” When I don’t reply, he sighs. “I can crash here and you can go into the main house. They won’t mind that and it’ll still look like we slept together to anyone else.”

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