Page 21 of One Mistake

Reese blew out a loud breath that was half suppressed scream, half angry growl. “We were scratching an itch. Now we’re finished and he’s leaving. Can we please stop talking about it?”

If nothing else, her outburst silenced her friends until Avery recovered. “He’s leaving? What happened to ransom?”

“She’s a cop.” This time Felicity said it.

Avery sighed and Felicity nodded as if they’d managed to exchange some subliminal message. After a moment, she glanced at Reese. “Well, if we aren’t going to ransom the love king”—she jerked her thumb at me, and I gave a little wave because it just felt right—“then are we packing or... do you have some secret stash of cash you wanna tell us about?”

Reese spoke and had sadness not dripped from her every word, I would’ve chimed in with support for the idea of her staying, but I couldn’t pile it on. “I live in California. I can’t justify keeping this house.”

Felicity puffed out her lower lip. “You don’t have to go back to California. We have cops here, too.” She ignored Reese’s huff. “I’m just saying. If you wanted to hang around…” She shrugged. “We…your friends…would like that.”

She looked at me, and I held up both hands because no way was I going to pressure her. Not yet, anyway. “Don’t look at me. I’m just an itch.” Didn’t feel as nonchalant to say as I meant for my attitude to convey.

But Reese stared at me. Angry at first then she tilted her head and the gaze softened. “I think I still need a good scratch.”

I couldn’t look away. She didn’t look away.

“I don’t get this metaphor.”

Avery pulled Felicity to the door. “Come on. I’ll explain it over margaritas at The Rundown.” The bar I should’ve been serving this evening.

Reese glanced away. “Hey, Avery, leave the camera?”

Avery’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Did you learn nothing from the love king’s little video operation? I know it’s been ten years since that whole mess, but—”

Reese sighed, and I tried not to take offense since I’d done all the evil they’d accused me of. Well, almost.

“It’s for the ransom pictures.” She winked at me, and all was right with the world once again.

One Decade Ago

Shit. There was something wrong. A glitch. A spike in payments to my account. Not that I minded the extra money. But I’d had videos of the pledges up for weeks. And I’d made some quick cash, but nothing like the deposits of the last three days.

I had about six hundred emails since midnight to the video account showing today’s views along with credits to the amount of money I had. That meant the traffic to my site had increased by about five hundred views today alone. At six dollars a view, I took a pay raise of three grand. Today. And eighteen hundred each yesterday and the day before. I hadn’t advertised the site. Or added to it. Or…made a single change that would account for this increase.

There had to be a reason. I dialed Jameson. “Yo.” His typical answer.

“Did you tell anybody about the site?”

He chuckled. “Hell, no. You sink or swim on this one yourself.” Why I expected help from him I couldn’t imagine. He wasn’t exactly known for his loyalty or his willingness to pitch in if it didn’t benefit him.

My phone beeped, but I didn’t smile when Reese’s picture showed up. I had to get home. Get those videos down because my gut said this was the beginning of something that was going to bite my ass hard.

I ended the call with Jameson and shut the whole damned phone off. I couldn’t afford the distraction. Not now. I had to focus on what to do. Delete the videos. Shut down the site.

I turned onto Fraternity Road and stopped. There wasn’t one cop car in front of the Alpha house. There were four along with a white van. A couple of campus security guys sat under the maple tree that needed a trim with their golf carts, barricades, and yellow tape. Beth Cooper stood on the sidewalk, a camera guy with his equipment aimed at her as she spoke into a microphone and motioned to the frat house behind her.

I didn’t put any of it together. Not when I parked behind one of the cop cars. Not when two cops followed me to the porch, wouldn’t let me pass, then asked if I was Ryder Kennedy. I got the distinct impression it wasn’t good to be Ryder Kennedy at that moment, but I nodded anyway. And that was the moment it all became clear.

One of the cops called out, and a guy in a suit turned. “We got him.”

Got him? I was him? “What the fuck is going on?”

Chancellor Fields came out of the house with Keaton, who shot me a glare, and Finn who gave me an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“You need to come with us, son.” The guy in the suit dug his fingers into my biceps, and I yanked away.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Whatever the fuck was going on, I had more important things to deal with.