Page 77 of Riot

I freeze. I could keep walking, but fuck that.

Turning, I stomp toward him on my heels.

I grab one of the catalogs as thick as a book as I go, and I rush him. He stumbles back into his desk, money falling around him as I smash it across his face. He screams as he flips from the impact, hitting his desk. Grabbing his hair, I press his face to the cover of it where Evelyn sits. “Don’t forget her name. Don’t forget our names. I’ll be back for you.” Releasing him, I blow my hair from my face and smile at Kage. “Shall we?” I hold out my hand, and he lays his in mine and lets me lead him from the office.

“Feel better?” he asks once we’re in the elevator.

“I really do.” I grin up at him as I pull out the list. “Now, we need to get these people to work with us.”

“And then?” he murmurs.

“Then it’s time. We can’t wait anymore. It’s time for the truth.”

So far, we have tracked down two of the names. They are still working in the industry, but the others have disappeared and either changed their names or they never revealed their real ones to begin with. Kage is working on that as we speak, knowing we are running out of time. Every moment we waste is another minute where whoever killed Evelyn and tried to kill me could come back at us. Once this is in the open, they will have no shields to hide behind.

The first name, Yolanda, agreed after a tearful talk, although she seemed nervous, but I think that’s normal. The second name, however, concerns me. Poe is at the top of his game, so he already faces enough criticism. Would he be willing to help us?

I don’t remember seeing him at the parties, but it doesn’t surprise me that they did the same shit to men they did to us women. Nothing was off-limits.

We are lucky he agreed to meet at a shoot since he’s so busy. I leave Kage outside, next to the lounge and snack area for the crew, while Poe’s manager lets me into his dressing room. He’s sitting on a sofa, his head tilted back and eyes closed. He looks exhausted and no less stunning. I’ve seen him in so much, but I never suspected this would be the conversation we would have. His short blond hair is spiked, the tips pink, and his makeup is artfully done, with glitter across his face. He’s beautiful, which is exactly why he’s one of the best, and he also knows how to work the camera.

Like he feels my gaze, he lifts his head and smiles. “Fallon.”

I’ve never met him, but I instantly feel at ease. I sit in the chair opposite his sofa, and he watches me. “I get it.” I blink at his statement, and he carries on. “Sorry, just thinking out loud. I finally get why everyone is so obsessed with you. The cameras don’t do you justice.”

“Nor you,” I admit, and he laughs as he sits up. He sighs and rubs his face before tilting his head and watching me again.

“I’m assuming this isn’t a social call?” The shrewd look in his eyes surprises me, but it shouldn’t.

“No,” I admit softly.

“Your father?” he asks. “I saw that you are going to expose him and everyone else. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you mean.”

“Yes, I heard you were at the parties.”

“Some.” He nods, his features tightening. “Enough before I managed to get my ass out of there, but not without a cost.” His lips tilt up in a bitter smile.

It’s one we all have.

“I need you, Poe. I need your help. Evelyn was going to speak out.” His eyes widen, and I nod. “I think they killed her for it.”

He laughs again. “And now you want me to? Even though it could get me killed?”

“So what? You’re just going to live with it and pretend you don’t know? That it didn’t happen to you? Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. They could kill you either way if they know you were there. They made it clear they are willing to silence anyone,” I argue.

“Yet you aren’t scared?” he asks.

“I’m terrified, but I won’t let it stop me. I can’t.” Pursing my lips, I meet his gaze. “I’m haunted by what happened to me, but it’s more than me now. It’s Evelyn. It’s all of the people who were there. We have to stop this, and the only way to do that is to expose everything. I know what I’m asking, and I know it could ruin your career, but I’m asking anyway.”

He considers me for a moment. “I was so angry about everything for years. I let it consume me, and I took so many drugs to forget. I’m clean now, and I’m embracing my healing, which I’m told means forgiveness. Part of me thinks I should just forgive them and move on, forget about it,” he murmurs, looking at me. “Don’t you?”

“No. Fuck that,” I spit. “You don’t owe them forgiveness. You don’t owe people who hurt you sympathy. You don’t always have to be the better person and bury your feelings, letting them build until you explode. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to feel angry and betrayed. You are allowed to . . . be. Doing that doesn’t mean you’re not healing. It means you are strong enough to face what happened, but I won’t force you. I’ll even try to cover your name up if you wish, so nobody knows.”

“Why?” he murmurs.

“Because I’m determined to protect everyone when no one protected us back then,” I reply. “I won’t back down, but this isn’t everyone’s fight. Yours is wherever you choose to be, and that’s okay.”

“You know what they will say about me if this comes out,” he whispers. “I made it up. I slept my way to the top. The rumors about my sexuality will eclipse everything.”