Page 87 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

Flynn nods and offers an understanding half-smile. “I know. And there’s no real definitive evidence it is one of my viewers, anyway.”

The door to the restaurant opens, and a large party tumbles out, laughing and talking loudly until they see the cop and his cruiser. Their revelry dies as they quietly make their way to their vehicles, eyes never leaving our little group huddled by Flynn’s damaged car.

Higgins motions toward the restaurant. “The manager told me your car is parked in an area of the lot that isn’t covered by the cameras.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.

Of course, it isn’t.

It would never be that easy. And since Flynn doesn’t have any info about what happened at his office garage, my guess is their cameras didn’t catch anything, either.

“But”—Higgins flips his notebook closed—“he said he will send them to us to review to see if any suspicious vehicles are leaving or entering around the time that this would’ve happened. I gotta tell you, though, I don’t have much confidence we’re going to be able to find who did this.”

Flynn sighs and drops his head back to stare at the night sky. “Me, either.”

Higgins offers me a sympathetic look, but whether it’s because of the damage and a culprit who will never be caught or because my boyfriend—or whatever the hell he is—is an online porn star, I can’t tell. “I suggest you be a little bit more vigilant about your surroundings and maybe reconsider your profession. It’s inviting people like this into your life.”

“It isn’t my profession. I have a real job—” Flynn starts to argue then waves a hand at the officer. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

And I’m starting to wonder if I really am.

His tires were slashed, and whore was written on his car. Both very real, very imminent threats he has kept from me for weeks.

What else is he hiding besides HRD4U and this?

I thought I knew Flynn inside and out, especially after the last few days we’ve spent together, but now, it’s like I’m staring at a complete stranger.

21

FLYNN

The door clicks closed behind me, and I follow Rachel into her living room. The fact that she came straight to her house instead of mine when the cab dropped us off outside didn’t go unnoticed.

She’s pissed, and I can’t say I blame her.

If the shoe were on the other foot and she kept something like this from me, I wouldn’t be very happy. I would probably be furious. And her absolute silence after Officer Higgins left and during our uncomfortable ride home has only served to build the tension between us.

She drops her purse on the end table and stands with her back to me, her shoulders tense and her body practically vibrating. I approach her slowly, cautiously, the way I would a wounded animal that might snap at me because it’s in pain.

I reach out but almost like she can sense it, she glances over her shoulder at me.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Rach”—I let my hand fall—“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” She whirls to face me, her green eyes flashing with something I don’t think I’ve ever seen focused on me before. Anger. But there’s something else there, something even worse. “Are you sorry for keeping what was going on from me? Sorry you lied? Or just sorry you got caught? Because I’m kind of at a loss here.”

I close the distance between us and grab her shoulders before she can back away. She gives a halfhearted protest and attempts to try to get out from under my hold, but I tighten my grip.

She sighs, and her body sags slightly in resignation. “This is serious, Flynn. Someone is obsessed with you and is pissed enough to do violent stuff like that. And it’s only escalating.”

Like I don’t know that.

Like I haven’t felt like someone put a target on my back since the moment we saw my car.

She’s no doubt already worked out what I did earlier. Whoever this is followed us tonight. A true stalker capable of God only knows what.

I squeeze her shoulders gently. “I know, Rach.” I shift one hand to tilt up her chin, forcing her to look at me. “And I need you to understand. I wasn’t trying to lie to you. With the tires, I honestly didn’t know what was going on. Like I told the officer, I thought maybe it was stupid kids or a mistake even, and there was no reason to get you upset about it.”

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