Page 11 of Filthy Rich

What the hell is this about?

“I’m getting out.” I tug up my jeans and grab the gun from the lockbox beneath the seat. “I’ll be fine. You stay put.”

“No. Don’t go!”

“It’ll be okay.” I rest my hand on her leg for a long moment, kissing her forehead gently before opening the door. “I don’t care who’s outside. I’ll deal with it and get us back down the mountain so we can finish what we started.”

Trish nods slowly, and I jump down out of the truck, gun at my side. It’s one thing to try to run after someone in the darkness of the Colorado night, but it’s another to do it with a rock-hard, fucking erection.

“Oh my God, Christopher.” She opens her door and hops down, scurrying around the truck. “I know him.”

“What are you doing? I told you to wait!”

“Ethan?” Her tone is flat as she stares toward the kid who’s trying his best to hide behind a pine tree. Man, I swear they make kids dumber these days. Why didn’t he keep running? With that head start, I would’ve never caught him.

Trish catches up with me and reaches for my arm. “It’s okay. He’s one of my students. He’s the one I was talking about earlier.”

I glance toward her.“Prostitute kid?”

She rolls her eyes and steps toward the child who’s tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Ethan, what are you doing out here?”

“Ms. Marshall?” He pushes back his short brown hair and tugs up his oversized blue jeans. The kid is probably a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, and he looks like he hasn’t showered in at least a week. Then again, it’s hard to see out here. Maybe it’s the dark color of his hair, or the reflections of the headlights. “I didn’t know it was you. I’ll delete it.”

“Delete what?”

“Nothing.” The kid stiffens and I get the feeling we both know where this is going. I step through the field, crunching over piles of half melted snow. “You filmed that?”

Half of me wants him to send it to me before he deletes it. I’d love a true to life replay of that moment over and over again. The other half knows better. “Give me your phone.”

“I’ll delete it,” the kid shakes as though he’s not used to being confronted, “I swear.”

“No. You’ll give me your phone now or I’ll take it.”

Trish glances up at me. “Christopher, he’ll delete it. It’s okay.”

I don’t do well with trust. It’s not because I’ve had some major event that’s left me suspicious. I just don’t see the point in trusting other people to do things you can do yourself. So, I swipe the phone from the kid, find the video, delete it, and give the phone to Trish. “Why were you filming?”

The kid grins and stands taller as though he’s proud of what’s coming next. “People come up here to make out and stuff. I post all the clips on social media for views. I’ve got like four million total right now.”

“What you’re doing is illegal, Ethan. You can’t film people without their consent.”

“I pixel out their faces. I mean… if they choose to come up here and do things in public, that’s on them.” He shrugs his shoulders. “You can keep the phone. I’ll get another one.”

“And your parents? What do they say about all this?”

He laughs. “They don’t care. I’m just playing around on social media like every other kid.”

Trish glances toward me then back at Ethan. “Why don’t you get in the truck? We’re taking you home.”

“What? No. I live like ten minutes from here if you cut through the woods.”

She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t feel right not bringing you back. So, either call your parents to come get you, or we take you.”

Ethan rolls his eyes, and for a second, I wonder if I’m going to be forcing a kid into the back seat of my truck. That would totally change the picture of where I thought tonight was going.

Instead, Ethan climbs up on his own as Trish and I stare toward each other with a look that I’m not sure I can explain. All I know is that the energy has shifted, and I’m pretty sure Ethan is to blame for all of it.

Chapter Five

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