Page 166 of The Liar's Reckoning

I shake my head. Unbelievable. Only Fans, here I come? Fuck. This is not how I saw my day going—or the next year of my life for that matter.

As unconventional as this job is—was—it was easy money. Money I relied on. Money I planned on having well into the future, but now?Now what?

“I transferred a small severance into your account today. I don’t know if you saw?”

I haven’t.

“What did you want to be when you grew up, Silas?”

“I—uh…” It’s a hard question to answer when my life is literally falling apart before my eyes. “When I was a kid I guess I wanted to be a doctor, but then I thought more…physical therapist.” I haven’t thought about that in a long time.

Her face brightens as she smiles. “I love that. You’d be wonderful.”

“Yeah, well…it’s a lot of school, and I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Still…it’s good to have a goal.” She waves her hand in a vague gesture. “Something beyond all this.”

“What happens to the website?”

“I’ve already taken it down.”

Those words ring with finality. It’s over. I won’t even be able to pay my own rent—much less Trixie’s bills. I knew on a very basic level that I relied on this money, but as I sit here—nothing but a part-time doorman—I realize how much of my identity is wrapped up in it, too. Sure, it’s not something I talk about at parties, and I don’t introduce myself as a high-priced escort, but being one has made me feel bulletproof. Like all the problems people have making it in Manhattan have never been problems for me—no college degree necessary.

And maybe I’ve been a little smug about it, too, because I feel humbled down to a nub. I’m a month away from actual homelessness if I don’t figure out something very major, very fast.

She must see the stress on my face because she adds, “You’ll find something, Silas. I’m not worried about you at all.”

If that’s the case, she’s seriously misjudged my situation. “Thanks, Katia,” I say, needing out of here.

She walks me to the door, offering me a hug and good luck before I’m out on the street looking around like an answer can be found in the vicinity.

Gil comes to mind first.

What the hell ishegoing to do? Lilah uses her outrageous allowance to pay me through Katia, but is removing that layer between us going to be too weird?

Still, I don’t see them going out to look for someone else, not when I’ve already established a relationship with them. This is so fucked up. So insane and unexpected, I’m still reeling when I get to my apartment.

The first thing I do is google this law.

And wouldn’t you fucking know it.

Of course. Of course this is Graham Lawther and family reaching into my life to blow it up all over again.

Obviously it isn’t just him—it’s the senate Republicans trying to keep the kids safe from all the whores and queers, but he sure is out there talking it up. Video after video, interview after post after quote. He’s got his hands all over this.

It’s how we fuckingmet.

If I thought I knew what betrayal felt like before, that was an appetizer. This is the main course, served hot, fresh and designed to fuck me up.

I hate him.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

Katia’s severance ends up being ten grand, which, yes, does buy me some time to figure out my life. In total, it leaves me with twenty-one thousand dollars and a part-time job with benefits.

I guess I should see if Gibson has any full-time openings. It’s a start. A living. It’s not enough for meandmy aunt, but with what I have, I can keep her afloat a little while longer. The problem is, I need a huge paycheck to continue supporting us both—one a doorman can’t make, not even if I do manage to maintain one paying client.

I have no desire to try to sell my services on my own. I still have mild PTSD from the one time those content creators filmed me—even if Katia stopped them from posting the video. Havingthe video with Graham circulating was a nightmare. I was recognized—identified.