Page 8 of The Players

At least I could take comfort in knowing she was okay. The day when I’d found her nearly dead on the kitchen floor almost gutted me. I still felt nervous prickles every time I swept my eyes around the kitchen floor.

She was safe. At least that. One less person to worry about.

One down and three to go.

Well, four if I counted myself, which I often forgot about. What had Easton texted the boys? I knew Mills owed Easton money. Exactly how much was in question. What about Hector? Maybe something to do with his dad? And Lowell? There was no telling what Easton had made Lowell do as his enforcer. There were likely several crimes I could think of right off the bat.

I scrubbed my hands over my face. Sleep would be hard to come by, but at least I could stew over my life in bed without a bra on.

Tiptoeing to my room, I slipped inside and grabbed the first pair of PJ pants and T-shirt I could find. Then I took them to the bathroom and ducked inside. When I finally turned on the light, I saw myself for the first time that night.

I’d been taking better care of myself these last few weeks. Having three boyfriends made one care about one's appearance more than normal. But tonight, all the worry seemed to flood back into my face. My hair was a mess now that I’d dragged my hands through it, and some of my mascara had smeared. Quickly, I pulled my blond hair into a ponytail and washed the makeup off my face. Then I changed into my PJs and tiptoed back to my room.

The bed felt warm and welcoming, but I couldn’t get comfortable. Every time I settled in a position, I’d flash back to the coffin, gasping for air, my nails splintering as I dragged them along the boards, my throat raw from screaming.

I shook my head. I was not going to do this again tonight. I’d spent so many nights reliving that trauma. Nothing good had come of it. Well, nothing except the fantastic sex I had with one of my three partners any time I sent them a “U up?” text.

That wasn’t happening tonight. They were meeting without me. They hadn’t even looked at me as they drove away.

It’s over. Your little tryst has ended. Just be grateful it lasted as long as it did. And so many orgasms,a voice in my head said.

Was the voice right? Maybe. I didn’t know. If they all decided to walk away tonight, I couldn’t blame them, but then what would happen to me? Would I have to face Easton alone or would he give up once he had his crew back? Would taking them from me be enough to satisfy his hunger for revenge?

I didn’t think so.

Now he had a new crew, the Idiot Twins, or whoever they were. Savannah and Spencer. What stupid names. Where in the world had he dug those two up,Imbeciles R Us?

The itch to know more started to bug me. I pulled out my phone and typed in “Savannah and Spencer.” A Tiktoker with the name Savannah Spencer came up but it wasn’t the girl from earlier. I didn’t have a last name, but maybe they’d been tagged in Easton’s social media. Quickly, I opened Easton’s TikTok and dug around.

He didn’t post much. Just some videos of him at parties looking bored or him in a sports car driving like a maniac. It was all rich kid douchery. But then I spotted the user name @SavanSmiles and clicked on it.

Boom. There she was. Savannah on a beach in a tiny bikini. Savannah nibbling on tapenade at some swanky locale. And then in another video, mugging with Spencer, who did appear to be her brother.

A few more videos and I found one of them on a private jet with, yep, Easton Hill. The caption read “Jet setting with the cuz to Coz.”

Cuz. Were they cousins? Was getting his family to be his gang the best Easton could do right now?

I smiled for the first time in a while. It felt like the equivalent of asking your cousin to prom.

The boys needed to hear about this. I closed TikTok and opened up my text app.

That’s when I saw the text I hadn’t noticed before waiting for me.

ANONTXT: Hello, orphan. Hope you enjoyed the housewarming. Always happy to help. BTW, I thought you might like to see the video I shared with Lowell tonight. He gets to pick between this being leaked and you.

There was a video attached to the text. My heart pounded as I stared at the thumbnail. What could it be? Did I even want to know?

My finger was shaking so hard that I had a hard time opening the video. When it started playing, I wished I hadn’t.

In the video, the room was dark, but the sounds were discernable. Someone was crying, sniveling even.

“P-p-please s-s-stop,” a male voice said. “I s-s-swear, I won’t… I won’t…”

“You won’t what?” a voice roared. There was a loud smack as two hard objects bashed together, then more whimpering. “Does that help you remember?”

It was Lowell. Angry Lowell. Vengeful Lowell. I’d heard that voice when the man went after me with the pistol. Lowell had been so terrifying then. He sounded that way now.

Thank God there was no video.

---