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Daniel's gaze zeroes in on our interlocked fingers, his face twisting with rage. “You piece of shit!” he roars.
Daniel's fist connects with my jaw in a sickening crack. White-hot pain explodes through my skull, lights flashing behind my eyes.
The force of the blow sends me staggering backward, my vision blurring. The world spins for a moment, and I have to brace myself against the porch railing to stay upright.
The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and I feel a sharp sting where my teeth have cut into the inside of my cheek.
I raise a hand to my throbbing face. “What the fuck?”
Confusion and hurt war within me. This is Daniel, my best friend, the guy who's always had my back. Why is he looking at me like I'm his worst enemy?
Scarlett's frozen in place, her eyes darting between Daniel and me, confusion written all over her features.
Daniel's on me again, gripping my shirt, shoving me backward until my spine slams against the wall. His chest is heaving, his grip on my shirt tightening. He looks like he's ready to kill me.
I open my mouth to try and reason with him, but he cuts me off, his arm rears back for another swing.
“Stop!” Scarlett cries, grabbing his arm. Her voice is shrill with panic, a sound I've never heard from her before. It cuts through the tension like a knife.
“You lying sack of shit,” he growls through gritted teeth. “How could you do this to Heather?”
I have no idea what he's talking about. “What does Heather have to do with this?”
“You got her pregnant and then cheated on her? With my sister?”
Heather? A baby? What the fuck? “What are you talking about?” I choke out, my jaw throbbing where he hit me.
Daniel shoves his phone in my face. “See for yourself, asshole.”
I pry his white-knuckled grip off my shirt and grab the phone. “Rock Star's Secret Scandal-ex-Girlfriend Miscarries Baby After Affair Pics Leak.”
The words on the screen swim before my eyes, each one a punch to the gut. My mind reels, trying to make sense of this nightmare. Heather pregnant? A miscarriage? An affair? None of this makes any sense.
My vision blurs as I scan the vile words, putting together the twisted lies. According to this trash article, I knocked up my on-again, off-again girlfriend Heather, only to cheat on her with Scarlett. The “stress” from the affair photos caused Heather to miscarry our baby.
What. The. Fuck.
Heather and I dated, but we broke it off. She was never pregnant, at least not with my kid. This is all bullshit. I'm used to the press making up lies about my personal life. But having my name tied to something as sickening as causing a miscarriage?
That's a new low.
It’s the photos that gut me. As I look at the pictures of Scarlett, her head thrown back in laughter, bile rises in my throat. We were grocery shopping for Christ's sake. How did something innocent become so twisted?
I shove the phone back at Daniel, disgust burning in my veins. “It's not true, man. You know me better than to believe that garbage.”
“Save it,” Daniel snaps. “I trusted you with my sister, and this is how you repay me?”
I look past Daniel to Scarlett. She's pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. I can see the questions and the doubt creeping in. I feel sick.
“Scarlett,” I plead, willing her to understand. “Those pictures in the article? They're from that day at the supermarket. Remember that guy who asked for a selfie?”
A flicker of recognition crosses Scarlett's face. “The one we argued about?”
“I told you about the paparazzi following me,” I insist, my gaze locked on Scarlett.
Scarlett's eyes widen with realization. “You got us trucker hats.”
“So what?” Daniel snarls. “That doesn't prove anything.”
