The Exposure (24 page)

“I'm going to go.” She took another step toward the door.
“Tell Jake I came by and I'll call him later.” And she'd make damn sure the next time she came by that creepy guy wouldn't be here.

“Are you going to see DeVaan?”

Her hand stopped halfway to the doorknob and the uneasy feeling she had grew stronger.

“So funny,” he said. “You see, I got this e-mail from someone I'd been corresponding with and she told me to fuck off. I've been spending the last few days trying to decide what I was going to do about it. How I was going to punish her. And now I don't have to. Because she simply walked right into my hands.”

She froze, trying to process his words. They didn't make sense. None of it made sense. She spun around, facing the man who had to be The Taskmaster. “Who are you?”

He stood up and she moved closer to the door, wanting to leave, but in the same breath, wanting to know why and now, even more, who.

“You wouldn't know me. You never actually saw me that night. You were too busy with V.”

When he stood up, he looked much bigger than he had sitting down. And he stunk; it was worse as he drew closer.

“I wanted a piece of the brunette who came with you, but that Parks man messed it all up and then your precious DeVaan threw me out of the club. My reputation is ruined and I'm not welcome anywhere.”

She gaped at him.
This
was the man who almost assaulted Abby? And then she knew where she'd seen him. At the club she Topped at. That night with Master C.

“So,” he continued. “I decided to ruin
him
by selling his celebrity photographs to the highest bidder. And who better to aid in his distraction than the woman he never got over? And as
a bonus, it also happened to be the woman who brought the brunette in the first place. You were never my original target, but once I discovered who you were, I decided your life should be ruined as well. It was easy, you know. Just followed you both for a while, made friends with Jake, and got the goods on you.”

Puzzle pieces started to fall into place and Meagan took a step backward. “Jake?”

He gave a short laugh. “I couldn't believe you thought it was Jake. I was over here when you called. He didn't know what the hell you were talking about. Of course, he doesn't have the brainpower to do anything other than get high.”

“What did you do to Jake?”

He waved his hand. “He's fine. Or I guess he is. Sleeping off his last hit. The question you should be asking is,
what am I going to do to you?
”

Heart pounding, she turned and headed for the door, but he was surprisingly quick and beat her there. In one smooth move, he had his arms around her and pushed her against the wall. “Did you seriously think I'd let you go that easily?”

She struggled, but he was too strong. He was pressed against her and she closed her eyes in disgust. “Let go.”

“No way. I finally have you here and you're going to work off what you owe me since you didn't get that picture for me.” His lips grazed her neck and she shivered. “A whore like you shouldn't have a problem with it.”

“Jake!” she yelled. “Jake! Wake up!”

He slapped her. “Stop that. It won't work anyway. He'll be out for hours.”

“Help!”

He slapped her again. “Shut up.”

She jerked her shoulders, struggling to get away, trying to
kick him. It was useless. He pushed her harder against the door, banging her head into it, and she saw stars. From somewhere he took a dirty rag and tried to shove it in her mouth. She spat at him, earning another slap in the face.

A sharp rap sounded on the door. They both shouted at the same time.

“Help!”

“Go away.”

There was a silence, and then came the sweetest sound she'd ever heard.

“Meagan?”

“Luke!” she called, seconds before The Taskmaster punched her in the stomach and she dropped to the floor. She curled into a ball and squeezed her eyes tightly, trying without success to make the pain go away. It hurt to breathe. He hadn't broken a rib, had he?

The deep breath she attempted came out as a wheeze and she braced herself for another blow. But what followed was a resounding crash as the door at her side gave way and splintered beside her.

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” The Taskmaster asked from somewhere above her.

“Where's . . . Why is she on the floor?” Luke sounded pissed. “Did you
hit
her?”

There was a thud as something—or someone—hit the wall, followed by a groan.

“Fucking touch her again and I'll rip you apart from limb to limb,” Luke said.

Meagan rolled over to see what was happening. Luke held her blackmailer with one hand around his throat while he punched something into his phone with the thumb of the other.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked when he saw her watching.

“I'll live.”

“I'm calling the police. Is this your brother?”

She shook her head. Her lungs still ached, but she managed to reply, “No, his friend.”

“He's the one? Not your brother?”

“Right. You actually kicked him out of your club. Long story, but he's the guy who attacked Abby.”

Luke slammed the guy into the wall. “Is that true, fucker?”

Jake.
She sucked in a breath. Jake was passed out in his bedroom. She should go check on him. She pulled her knees under her body and sat up.

“Where are you going?” Luke asked.

“Got. To. Check. On. Jake,” she said, punctuating each word as she slowly stood.

She had to find Jake and make sure he was okay. There was no telling what he'd taken. It wasn't until she was halfway down the hall that it hit her.

What was Luke doing here?

She almost turned around to go back to the living room to ask, but Jake's room was closer. And, if she was honest with herself, until he told her differently, she could pretend Luke had forgiven her.

She found Jake snoring in his bed. Ugh. He smelled. No telling when his last bath was. At least his room was relatively clean. And by that she meant there weren't any fast-food wrappers scattered on the floor.

“Jake.” She made it to the edge of his bed and shook him. “Wake up.”

He mumbled something and rolled over.

“Now. The police are on the way.”

One eye cracked open. “What?”

She breathed a sigh of relief that he was awake and coherent. “The police. They'll be here any second. Your asshat friend has been blackmailing me.”

He didn't move.

“Come on. Get up and get dressed. After the police leave, we're getting you cleaned up. It's time to be a man.”

Two car doors closed outside the apartment. She looked out the window. “They're here.”

She made sure Jake was up and getting dressed before she left to join Luke in the living room. From the voices she heard, the officers were inside. It was time not only for Jake to grow up. It was time for her to do so as well.

“Meagan?” Luke called.

“Coming,” she replied, and walked down the hallway toward her future.

*   *   *

I
t took a hell of a lot longer than Luke anticipated for everything to settle down. The Taskmaster, or Ted, had been belligerent to the police. After the police took him away, Jake took a shower while he and Meagan straightened up the apartment. Then he drove Meagan and Jake to a nearby rehab facility where Jake enrolled himself for treatment. Luke waited in the car while they took care of everything and couldn't help but notice the peculiar look on her face when she came back to his car. He wanted to ask her what the cause of it was, but they had so many other things to discuss, it didn't seem like the best time.

Without asking, he drove to her place. It wasn't what you
would call neutral, but he thought it was a better option than his place. For her part, Meagan was simply silent.

It wasn't until he followed her to her door that she voiced any concern. “Are you coming in?” she asked with a lifted eyebrow.

He nodded. “We need to talk.”

Her lips tightened, but she opened the door and ushered him through. She didn't stop in the living room, but continued on toward the kitchen. “I don't know about you,” she called over her shoulder, “but I need a drink. Wine?”

“I'd like something a bit stronger,” he admitted. “But wine will do for the moment.”

She handed him a glass when she made it back from the kitchen and sat down as far away from him as possible. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I'm sorry for how I acted when I found out about the blackmail.”

She shook her head. “You don't need to apologize. It was all me. I should have told you.”

“Maybe. But who's to say how I would have reacted? It might have turned out a lot differently and then we wouldn't have these.” He reached into the messenger bag he'd brought in with him and pulled out the pictures.

She may have been hesitant to talk to him, but she was insanely curious about her photos. She shifted a bit closer to him. “Are those . . . ?”

“The pictures I've selected for the book. Yes. Come have a look.”

He spread them out on the coffee table so she could see them easily. One at a time, she picked them up and studied each one. He'd been around models enough to know there were two
types: the ones who found fault with everything about their bodies and those who thought themselves flawless. He hadn't been around Meagan years ago when she'd seen her pictures of their shoot. He wondered which camp she fell into.

She put the last one down. “Not bad.”

“That's all you can say?” He picked up one from the night she had the formal gown on. With the moonlight and her wistful expression, it was a stunning portrait. “This is fucking fantastic.”

“You did an amazing job.”

“Thank you, but I had a lot to work with.”

Her delicate smile was enough to let him know she wasn't as unaffected by his praise as her next words would have him think. “The thing is, when I look at these pictures, I see a woman who was keeping secrets.”

Her response left him momentarily stunned. But of course that would be what she saw. “Meagan . . .” he started.

“No.” She shook her head. “Don't make excuses. I was wrong. I just . . .” She blinked away tears. “I just didn't want to ruin what we had and instead I messed it up even more.”

“It might have been messed up, but it's not unfixable.”

She looked up in surprise. “You want to fix it?”

“I'd like to try.” He stood up and walked to where she sat and took a seat beside her. “I think what we have is worth a second chance. Let's face it. I haven't been a saint in this entire ordeal.”

“Yeah, but at least your screwup was years ago. Not like mine.”

“You were being threatened and you wanted to protect your brother. I can't fault you for either of those things.”

“Funny thing, that.” She took a long sip of wine. “Wanting to protect Jake.”

“What's funny about that?”

“I told him about the blackmail while we were waiting for him to be admitted today. You were in the car.”

And it had taken damn near forever. He thought she'd never get back to the car. For a minute, he thought maybe she'd decided to admit herself for something. “Right. I remember.”

She finished the wine in her glass and told him about the fires. He sat silently, just listening.

“Ted got him drunk one night,” she said, after she'd told him almost everything. “It was the anniversary of Dad's death, but Ted didn't know. Jake was miserable and feeling guilty and told him everything. Cleansed his soul, he said. Fucker e-mailed me the first time the very next day.”

Luke thought it odd that Jake had been so bothered by it, but he never talked to the one person who knew he'd set the fires. As far as he knew, the two siblings had never discussed it. “Why didn't he cleanse his soul with you?”

“Oh, you know. I was the perfect one. With the awesome job and great house. I had it all together. I didn't need anything of the sort.” She winced.

“There's something else, isn't there?” he asked gently.

She nodded and he waited for her to tell him. Finally, she took a deep breath.

“My father died because of the last fire Jake started.” She got only those words out before stopping and looking at him. He was shocked speechless and simply nodded for her to continue. “I was able to talk to him, at the hospital . . . before.”

He reached over and took her hand. She squeezed his in a silent
thank you.

“He told me he knew what Jake had been doing. He covered it up because he didn't want people to know his son was the one
starting fires. Then he made me promise to look after him. And I've tried. Heaven knows, I've tried. I'm just . . .”

He stroked her hand with his thumb, afraid if he said anything, she'd stop, and from the way it sounded, she needed to tell someone what she'd been keeping inside all these years.

“What else could I do?” she asked. “I had to keep quiet. My father died a hero and if I'd told people what really happened, he won't be seen as that.”

“And Ted decided to use your guilt as a way to get to me.” He hated the man even more. “I'm sorry, Meagan. Not only for not listening before, but for what your father did to you. That's a lot to put on a teenage girl.”

She sniffled. “My mom didn't even know. It feels so good to finally tell someone.”

He pulled her into his arms and whispered, “I promise from now on, you can tell me anything and I won't judge you or hold it against you.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He held her for several minutes, basking in the simple joy of having her in his arms again and how thankful he was he hadn't lost her. When she pulled back, he reluctantly let her go.