I liked Clara before, I was intrigued, but this is something new, like she’s gone from a reed to a willow in one afternoon. Or maybe she always was a willow, and somehow, we all mistook her for a grass, easily crushed underfoot.
She crosses one leg over the other, her feet bare. “Actually, I was going to ask you for a full rundown on Bryce. I need to know everything so I can fit it into the plan. No secrets, and no leaving things out to protect me.”
I open my laptop, hoping she won’t want to see what I found, that a simple a description will be enough. God, I hope a description is enough. “Today I drove out to the suburbs to track down that last friend. I didn’t have more than a few messages between the two of them, and money via Venmo for pizza. I planted a few sniffers, but I wasn’t getting enough, so I physically accessed the guy’s network.”
My nostrils flare, a flash of rage trying to break free, but right now, I need to convey information, not react. I can react later.
Trips is in jail, Clara is in danger, and if things don’t change fast, we’re all going to be locked up before midterms, so my wrath will have to wait.
“It took some work, but I was able to cut into his network. This guy,” I clear my throat, forcing myself to continue, “he brokers porn. Not just regular porn, but he has a niche of ‘barely legal’ porn. The thing is, not all the movies he distributes are of adults. There are definitely fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds in the mix. He buys them from disgruntled boyfriends, or even happy ones, most of them filmed by secret camera. I don’t think any of the girls know they’re being recorded.”
“How do you know?” Walker asks.
This is the part I didn’t want to have to say. My palms are damp as I look up at Clara. “I don’t know how to ask this, well, delicately. Did you and Bryce make sex tapes?”
Clara’s brown eyes blink quickly while her brain pieces together what I’d rather not say. She shakes her head, wet strands of hair flopping over her shoulder as she does. “No. Never.”
“That’s what I thought. You, uh, didn’t look like you knew.” I shake my head, knowing I started at the wrong end of that sentence. “I didn’t watch, though. Not once I realized what I was watching, you know?” My face is hot as I stammer. Seeing Clara like that, with her fucking monster ex—it had been a special kind of hell.
Walker and Jansen are motionless, waiting to see how Clara reacts, and both look ready to jump in and comfort her. She taps once, only once, on her thigh, then meets my gaze. “It was that fucking picture frame. Why else would he care that much about a photo of a fucking lake?” She swallows. “How many videos?”
“I stopped counting at six.”
“And Bryce has been buying too?”
“Yeah. A few times a week, it looks like, for the past four years.”
She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. When she opens them again, the steel is back in her gaze. “Thank you. I needed to know.”
Chapter 44
Walker
Claratapsherthighonce, when that bomb landed at her feet with no warning. Fuck, RJ needs to learn some tact—a little would go a long way.
But honestly, how do you tell someone that you saw their sex tape? Especially when you’re pretty sure they had no idea they even had a sex tape? Let alone six sex tapes?
What must she be thinking?
My brain would probably stutter to a stop if I found out an ex had been selling videos of me.
Clara shifts on the arm of the couch. I want to reach out and hold her, to comfort her, but it feels like she sat there so I couldn’t reach her. She wanted the upper hand, perched above us all, untouchable, and I don’t understand why.
She and Jansen were cagey when I came in—they told me Trips was in jail and that Clara had a plan. I didn’t have time to clarify what that meant before RJ got back, as the two of them were furiously texting Emma. There had been some concern that Emma was in danger, but I guess she was struggling with a group project. Dealing with a messy group project is honestly the max difficulty of plan I expected from Clara.
But something has shifted. She’s…in control? I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s new. If I’d drawn her yesterday, (which I did, not that she needs to know) the drawing would have been of a beautiful girl, with broken, fearful eyes and a stubborn jaw. Today, though, I’d be drawing a woman staring into the unknown, daring the darkness to do its damndest, because she could fucking take it. No way I’m blocking her plan unless I have to.
She tucks a wet curl behind her ear, clearing her throat. “What can you guys tell me about Trips’ dad? You said something about needing to do a trade?”
Jansen pulls his legs under himself, knowing he’ll be fielding any questions about Archibald the Second. “It’s a game he plays with Trips. He’ll do whatever Trips wants, as long as he thinks the price is fair. The price is always tied to dragging Trips deeper into the family business, tying him down so he can’t leave.”
“And what’s the family business?” Clara asks.
“Politics,” I say.
“Not just politics,” Jansen clarifies. “His dad and grandfather were both hot-shot lawyers. According to Trips, they know the deep, dark secrets of every Fortune 500 company in the Midwest. They’ve used those secrets to pivot into politics. Trips’ half-brother is already in the state house, and they want Trips to be his fix-it guy.”
“How bad would it be if their fix-it guy goes to jail?” she asks.