That earns me a laugh as she throws her arms around me and peppers kisses across my cheeks and along my jaw.
“We can take her for a spin when we go to Bennett’s house later. For now, let’s go christen the kitchen island. I just finished baking my mama’s famous peach cobbler for the cookout.”
I lift her up bridal style and run back into the house to properly wish her a happy birthday.
30
October
Carson has been needier ever since the season started. He’s been apprehensive about leaving me alone at home, but he won’t say why. It’s not like I haven’t noticed the upgraded security system, the way he’s checking the locks every night that he’s home, and how when we’re on FaceTime, he asks me if I’ve checked them. But he hasn’t said what’s brought on the sudden fear and heightened his anxieties.
Staring back at my reflection in the full length mirror, I run my hands over the stitching of the black and lime green Wolverines jersey. I turn around, and with the claw clip holding my hair up, it’s easy to spot “WILDER” across my back. This afternoon is Carson’s first regular season home game, and it will also be the first game I wear his jersey to. I’m oddly nervous to have him see me in it.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way down the stairs to grab my purse and keys from the front entry table. I’ve just pulled the strap of my bag over my shoulder when I realize I left my phone on the nightstand upstairs.
“Shit,” I murmur to myself. I’m already going to be late, and I don’t want to worry Kenna.
Running up the steps, I grab my phone off the charger when it vibrates in my hand in rapid succession with incoming text notifications.
Unknown:
Hello, my beautiful Belle.
You thought you could just ruin my life and then trance off to a foreign country with another man, and there wouldn’t be consequences? It’s like you never knew me at all. But I know that can’t be the case. You know perfectly well what I’m capable of.
*Picture message attachments*
My heart sinks as I click on a blurred photo of me and Carson naked in the pool in Florence. The second photo attached is of me and Carson in our home library. Even though it is a bad angle and the blinds are in the way, it’s still very clear what’s going on. Tears sting my eyes as a lump forms in my throat.
Fear like I’ve never known slithers its way down my spine as the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Unknown:
You have two days to pack your shit and leave him like you did me or this picture, and the accompanying videos, will be released to the media. Don’t fucking test me, Dakota.
With shaky hands, I try to type out a reply, but have to start and retype it several times.
Me:
Aaron, you’re not supposed to contact me.
What are you going to do? Call your lawyer? I wonder what Theo will think of his son’s name being dragged through the mud because of a stupid whore.
Tick, tock . . . the clock is running. If you’re not out of his house in two days, the videos I have will be released to every website and news station.
You’re not willing to risk your golden boy’s squeaky-clean reputation are you? Or have you really become that reckless?
I release the sob that was stuck in my throat.
Me:
And if I leave? How do I know you won’t release them anyway to seek revenge?
Unknown:
If you leave him, that’s enough for me. You don’t deserve happiness after you took everything from me. Do as I say, and I’ll send you the original files and all copies to your mom’s house. And don’t think I’ll stop at the footage. Remember that little fender bender your beloved Wilders were in? Who do you think hired the photographer that crashed into them?
At this rate, nothing he says or does should surprise me, but I’m shocked that Aaron would go so far as hurting Carson and Cadence. They’re innocent in all of this. I don’t know what his end goal is or what this game he’s playing is, but I know him well enough to know he’d never turn the photos and videos over so easily. But until I know more, I have to play along. My stomach churns, and I know I’m going to be sick as I type my reply.
