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“I know,” she laughs, covering her face in embarrassment. “It just kinda happened. I’ve been meaning to delete it, but like . . . it’s Dylan Pope. Without that video, no one would ever believe I was with him, not that I would ever show this to anyone, not even you. But also, it kinda gives me a reason to talk to him again. I’m just not sure when that happens that I particularly want to be admitting to having a sex tape of him. I don’t want him to think I did it on purpose or that this is some kind of money grab because it’s not. I would never do that. Plus, breaking out the phone was totally his idea. If anything, I should be the one scandalized, but like . . . I actually look kinda good in it, so, you know, I’m just keeping it for sentimental reasons.”
I can’t stop gaping at her. “You absolutely have to get rid of that.”
“But like . . . do I?” she questions. “It would be a shame to get rid of it prematurely. What if Dylan wanted a viewing party?”
I go to tell her what a terrible idea that is, but on second thought, a viewing party of his own accidental sex tape is Dylan’s idea of the best night that ever existed. “You know what,” I say with a heavy sigh. “Maybe I could run the idea past him.”
Madds laughs and presses her hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”
I shove her off me just as a rush of paparazzi flood the store window, their cameras flashing over and over, blinding us as they scream for my attention. “What the flying fuck?” Madds says, stepping closer to me and grabbing my arm. She pulls me away as the store attendants hurry past us to the door, quickly locking it before the paparazzi take over their store. “What’s going on?”
I shake my head, not having the slightest clue, but what I do know is that this is so much more than just dating rumors. This is a scandal. I just wish I knew what.
“Raleigh. Raleigh Stone,” I hear them yelling through the glass, some of them banging against it and making it rattle. “What can you tell us about your father? Are the rumors true?”
“Rumors?” Madds asks, looking back at me for confirmation, but all I can do is stand and stare at them, feeling the blood drain from my face. Please don’t tell me they know about my father. “What rumors?”
“No. No. No. No. No,” I start chanting.
“MISS STONE?” the paps get more insistent, their blinding flashes sending me into a spiraling panic. “MISS STONE, DID YOUR FATHER RAPE YOU AS A CHILD? MISS STONE. MISS STONE? CAN YOU COMMENT?”
Fuck.
Madds whips her head toward me, her eyes wide and filled with horror. “What are they talking about?” she questions as the store attendants start piling up clothes racks in front of the window, desperately trying to give me some privacy, but all I can do is run.
I turn on my heel and bolt, darting to the dressing rooms in the back of the store. I find the first one, diving into it and pulling the curtain closed behind me before crumbling to the ground, locking my arms around my knees.
My whole body shakes. How do they know?
The only people on the planet who know about this are me, Ezra, and . . . my father.
FUCK.
“Rae?” Madds calls, hurrying after me as I hear her searching the dressing rooms, pulling back curtain after curtain until she finally gets to mine. “Rae,” she says, finding me, her tone filled with concern. She drops down in front of me, her hands clutching my knees. “What are they talking about? It’s not true, is it? Why would they be asking you something like that?”
Tears well in my eyes, and as I hold her stare, she sees the truth, just as clearly as Ezra had. There’s no need for me to respond, no need to delve into the horrid details, she already knows. “Oh, Rae,” she cries, throwing herself at me, her arms winding around my body and holding me close. “I’m so sorry. I never knew.”
I cry into her shoulder as the store attendants come to find us. “We’ve done what we can to barricade the door,” one of them says. “But it’s not looking pretty. More are showing up by the second. What do you want us to do?”
Madds looks back, trying to figure out a game plan. “I don’t know. Should we call the police?”
“No. Call Ezra,” I say, handing her my phone. “He’ll know what to do.”
Her eyes widen as she stares down at my phone, doing what she can to try and keep her composure, knowing that this is important and now is not the time to get starstruck by my boyfriend. “O . . . okay,” she says, her face turning green. “I’m just going to call Ezra Knight. No big deal.”
She visibly swallows before searching through my phone for his number, and as she presses call and holds the phone between us, she takes my hand, squeezing it tight. She presses the speakerphone button, and as memories of my father’s assault cripple my mind, I try to focus on the sound of the call.
“Hey, baby. What’s up?” Ezra’s voice comes through the phone a moment later, the sound somehow starting to calm me. “We’re just in rehearsal.”
“Oh, ummm . . . hi,” Madds says awkwardly. “This is Madds. Raleigh’s friend.”
“Uhh . . . okay,” he says, a strange tone to his voice. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, ummm . . . no,” she says, clearly frazzled, but she’s doing a hell of a better job than I could right now. “We’re in a store, and we got flooded by paparazzi. There are heaps of them, and they’re screaming out questions about her dad and what . . . you know . . . he did to her.”
“What?” he rushes out in a panic, his tone hardening. “How the fuck do they know about that? Where is she? Is she okay?”
Madds glances at me, a sadness in her eyes. “She’s right here listening, but no. She’s not okay. She’s shaken, and there are so many paparazzi surrounding the store, I don’t know what to do.”
