Page 83 of Pretty Black

Gathered again in Caspian’s living room, which had become our makeshift war room, we sifted through the massive dump about Alister and Kingsley. We had associates at our lawyer’s firm on speaker phone, feeding them what only our manager could have known from the articles to see if they could put together some sort of case for an injunction.

Caspian kept one eye on me, and I was sure it was because he was worried this would push me to the edge again.

“Do I have this right?” Aspen said through his teeth after we’d painted a pretty grim picture of the leak. “He’s making you look like a fucking predator?”

“Yep. He made it look like I’m the shitty older guy preying on Alister when it was Alexander,” Kingsley said with his head in his hands. “How can I even combat this?”

Alister rubbed a hand over his back. “I don’t know. We are going to have to talk to Ari and your PR. They are probably going to tell us to say nothing.”

“How many fucking celebrity men date younger women exclusively, and now I’m the asshole for dating someone in my peer group?” Frustration bled from Kingsley’s voice.

“Arguably, more famous too,” I added. “Ten years looks pretty bad at nineteen and twenty-nine. Less bad at twenty-three and thirty-three. Maybe it will die down.”

“It’s still bad, and we knew the fans wouldn’t love it, but fuck’s sake, what is he, like forty-five? Fifty? Fucking pig.” Kingsley ground his teeth.

“I hate this fucking argument that any age gap is bad. I don’t know. I think there are other factors that play into it, including power dynamics, but I’m an adult.” Alister slumped, defeated.

“They are calling me a fucking groomer.” Kingsley threw his phone. “I give up. I don’t want to know anymore.”

“They said what?” Royal asked.

Kingsley gestured at his phone. “Go look for yourself if my phone still works.”

Royal looked at Aspen. “Come on.”

Aspen got to his feet. “Yep.”

They headed for the door.

“Where are you two going?” Kingsley asked.

“Better if you don’t know, baby bro,” Aspen said, closing the door behind them.

“What the fuck was that?” Caspian asked.

Kingsley laced his fingers behind his head. “I have no clue. You never know with those two. They could be out bribing news organizations, or they could hire a hitman, and honestly, I’m not even sure which is more likely. They spent longer on the streets of Boston than I did.”

“Should we call Aspen or something? I don’t want him in jail.” Alister put his head in his hands. “That will not make any of this better.”

Kingsley walked across the room to retrieve his phone and clicked, tapped the screen, then held it up to his ear. A phone started buzzing on the counter and next to it was a second one. “They didn’t take them.” He sighed.

Lowe, Caspian, Alister, Kingsley, and River’s phones all started buzzing.

“What the fuck?” I asked, reaching for my phone. But there were no alerts.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Caspian sunk to his knees in the middle of the room and closed his eyes.

“What?” I asked, searching the faces of the others in the room.

“'It won’t stop until you give in. This was only a taste of what I have coming,’” River read out loud from his phone. “It’s from an unknown number. And I’m betting we won’t be able to trace it.”

“Of course.” I shook my head. “He won’t stop. Probably not for the rest of our lives.” I got up and went to Caspian, sitting on the floor next to him. We wrapped ourselves around each other.

We laid in bed long after everyone had retired, defeated. Aspen and Royal returned within the hour but wouldn’t say a word about where they’d gone. Kingsley assumed on a drug run, and I didn’t want to know. I was trying to only take the drugs prescribed to me and smoke joints, which doctor Kahn said I could do to help with my anxiety. I didn’t trust myself with anything else, especially not tonight.

“You don’t think I’m suicidal, do you?” I asked at length.

“What makes you ask?” Caspian asked, meeting my eyes in the low light.

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