Page 46 of Impressing Brett

I’m shaking by the time he sets my purse on the counter. He lifts me off the floor and sits me on the island, his hands coming to my sides. His face is level with mine. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Little lamb. Never. I don’t like you thinking that way.”

“Okay, then why are you frowning like the bottom fell out of the Earth?” My eyes widen. “Is it my apartment? Did they change their minds and condemn it?”

“No, Lacy. Your apartment is fine. We can go over there and get your things whenever you’re ready.”

Get my things… To move in with him. Because he keeps telling me he’s serious about us living together. He’s serious that he never wants to spend a single night without me in his arms again.

My breath hitches. “You heard something about the will, didn’t you?” Now, I’m in a new panic. I was kind of hoping the Rutherfords would stop hounding me and move on, even though Daddy has told me multiple times he doubts that’s going to happen.

“Unfortunately, no, but something did happen, and you’re not going to like it. I need you to be brave for me. I need you to know that no matter what happens, you’re mine. We’re a solid unit. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Now, you’re really, really scaring me, Brett.” My voice is firm. I’m not the least bit Little right now. I’m still in my pencil skirt, blouse, silk bra and panty set, and heels. I’m adult Lacy until I change, which hasn’t happened yet.

Brett lifts me off the island, takes my hand, and leads me to the living room. He settles in the huge recliner he often sits in when I’m on his lap. After lifting me sideways onto his thighs, he draws in a deep breath. “Someone put something very disturbing in the mailbox today.”

“What is it?” Goosebumps rise on my neck.

He reaches for a large manilla envelope on the end table, brings it in front of me, and pulls out a thick pile of paper. No, not paper, photos. Large photos. Eight by tens.

As soon as I see the one on top, my jaw drops, and the blood drains from my head. I’m going to faint. I start shaking as I cringe away, not wanting to touch that photo. Not wanting to know how many like it are in his hand.

“Apparently, someone very sharp has been following us,” Brett tells me. “I’m so fucking sorry, Lacy. I’m usually the one who does the following. I’ve never been on the receiving end of a stalker with a long-range camera.”

“How?” I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry. This top picture is emblazoned on my brain. It’s one of me on my knees in the playroom. I’m wearing only babyish panties and a thin tank top. I’m surrounded by dolls having a tea party. It’s from this past Saturday.

“I don’t know yet, Little lamb,” he says softly, “but every available body at Black Blade Protection is working on it. I only got here fifteen minutes ago. All I’ve been able to do so far is call my boss and arrange for protection.”

I scramble off his lap because, suddenly, I can’t sit still any longer. I snatch the pictures from his hands and start flipping through them. My heart is going to beat out of my chest. I’m dying a slow death as I stare at the pictures one by one before throwing them on the floor.

Me in pigtails coloring in the kitchen. Me entering Surrender Friday night in my blue dress with the frilly socks. Me on Brett’s bed, naked, my legs spread open, Brett’s head between them. Me in every imaginable compromising position known to man.

I drop to my knees when my legs won’t hold me up any longer. I set my palms on the floor, close to hyperventilating.

Brett lowers next to me and sets a hand on my back.

“Don’t,” I tell him. I don’t want him touching me right now. I need to think.

He removes his hand. “Lacy, I know this is devastating, but I need you to listen to me.”

I jerk my head his way. “Devastating?” I shout. “This is so far past devastating it’s not even funny. Someone is blackmailing me.” I’m not stupid. “Is there a letter?”

“Yes,” he admits.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

He draws in a breath. “Yes. The Rutherfords.”

I laugh sardonically, the sound so foreign I don’t even recognize it. I shove off the floor to stand and stumble toward the stairs.

“Lacy…” Brett follows me.

I hold out a hand, turning partly toward him. “Stop.”

His face is pale. I’m hurting him. I don’t care. I have to get out of here. I need to be alone. Thank God I still have my apartment. I’ll go there. It’s at least on the fucking sixth floor. I’ll shut all the fucking blinds, turn off all the lights, and hide in my bathroom for a while. Like ten years.

“Lacy, talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”

I keep moving. When I reach the bedroom, I pull off my heels and toss them toward the closet. I look at the window and then enter the closet completely, turning on the light and slamming the door. At least there’s no window in here, but I do take a moment to look in the corners to see if there are cameras.

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