Page 156 of Red Flag
I looked up with a frown. “What I want with it?”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before looking uncomfortably at the laptop. “Well, if you want… we could send it to the police. To the papers that have been posting shit about you. You’ve always said you only need tosend something to one newspaper and the rest all follow. One paper. They couldn’t publish this. In fact, every time the original picture is sent, it’s a crime photo. If you—”
“It would prove my case,” I whispered, hands gripping his as I looked over my shoulder at the laptop. “I don’t want to see it, Nix.”
“You won’t have to,” he promised. “I’ll find it. Jules’ guys already took off the passwords, so I’m all good to get in. I have every bit of technology from that house in my car. I will find it. Then we can discuss.”
I looked back up at him. The fury had taken my tears for a moment, but they were back, brimming. “I don’t want you to see me like that.”
He rubbed the backs of my hands with his thumbs. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s completely up to you. We do whatever you want. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you — I know what you gave up for me, but I had to do something. I couldn’t simply know it was out there and that it could hurt you.”
I rested my head on his chest and sniffed. “I know,” I sighed. “I know.”
He held me for a while, arms wrapped tightly around me until I pulled back with a weak smile. “I’m going to shower. I can’t believe I’ve let your mum see me like this.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “You always look beautiful.”
I snorted and, with one last glance at the laptop, I left.
We had both done reckless things to protect each other.
Chapter 35
Christmas Eve.LucaMendes vs Tyler Wells. London.
It was only down the road and it was about time I got back to work. In person. It had been two weeks since he held me in my hotel room when I’d seen the first article, but it felt like a lifetime.
Salihacame round to our apartment, and we got ready together like we had during the season.
Singing along to ABBA, it was like nothing had changed.
And I got out mymotorjacketthat Nix had made for me. The one that matched my lipstick and I never wanted to remove. Until he would remove it for me when we got back tonight.
We were still going to wait until the end of the season to announce our relationship.
Crishad told me over and over to not worry. My job was safe despite my lack of social media and two-week absence.
I hadn’t heard fromPrixton, my new team, and it kept me up at night that they may no longer want me, given all the articles still coming out about me.
Nix reassured me that, no matter what happened, I wouldn’t be without. He could cover my annual salary with a day’s wages, but that wasn’t the point.
I wasn’t just Nix’s girlfriend. That wasn’t my identity.
I was Livie Quinn. Publicist. Media manager. Photographer.
I was a sister, a daughter. I was a true crime fan, an awful dancer.
I was more than my reputation.
I was a sexual abuse survivor. I knew that now. I’d accepted it.
But that wasn’t just what I was.
And I missed my old friends, my job, my life.
But, more than anything, I missed her. Me.
Tonight I would drink and cheer on my friend for beating someone to a pulp.
