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Conner lets out a long breath. I know I just fucked up his plan, whatever it was, but I don’t care. I refuse to play along with this bullshit. “OK,” he finally says.
“Vaughn,” Tray says from his perch on the barstool a few feet away. “Whatever you think, I did that for her own good. She confided in me, and no matter what you think is happening here, you’re wrong. I thought she could handle it, and she did pretty well, but she cracked at the end and lost control. So I stopped. If you watch the whole video, you’ll see. I did that to help her.”
“And you’re here asking for ten million dollars because you love her?”
“No.” He stands up from the bar and I realize something isn’t right. His clothes are all rumpled and there’s a rip, like someone took a razor and sliced the front of his white dress shirt. His jacket pocket is hanging by a thread, and his tie is too loose. “No, I just needed to get you here. I just needed you to come hear me out. It’s not for me, OK? I don’t want your money. I want your sister. But she walked out and I was trying to process what was happening with”—he waves a hand at the computer—“this fucking bullshit.”
Conner seethes next to me. “Why the fuck are we here, Tray?”
Tray looks right at me. And this, for some reason, scares me. “Grace,” Tray says, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What?” I growl at him. I’m so fucking close to beating the shit out of this guy. The only thing that holds me back is the knowledge that he wants me to do that. He wants me to do that so he can sue me and drag my name through the tabloids. “How the fuck would you know anything, asshole? The whole thing is sealed up.”
“I don’t need records, Vaughn. I got a phone call back on Saint Thomas. That morning Sam left, in fact. I got a call and that’s why I was out drinking. He threatened me, you guys. He threatened to kill Sam if I refused to help him. And somehow he got this video. That’s not my account on YouTube, OK?” Tray says it like he’s pleading with us to believe him. “That’s his account. The video is private right now, but at six tonight, he’s making it public. He said that’s my payment for being perfect and privileged. Everyone needs to pay, and I’m no different. That’s what he said. So no matter what, that video of Sam is going to be all over the internet tonight.”
“That makes no sense,” Conner says. “Why release the video if he gets what he wants? That’s not how guys like this work.”
“He’s crazy, Conner. He said girls are weak and can’t face reality without the guidance of a man. He said he liked me because I got Sam to make that video, but that I was a coward for not publishing it and making her face her fear. So he was going to take away my options. My decision, he said that specifically. He was going to take away my decisions and force me to behave like a man.”
All I can think of is Grace. Is this why she prefers her fantasy life? Did this sick fuck mess with her brain? Confuse her and force her to believe that she was incapable of living in reality?
“And then,” Tray continues, “I got a visit a few days ago and that computer was dropped off. Open the computer back up, Conner. There’s a minimized window. Bring it up and watch.”
Conner defers to me and I nod. “Do it.” We might as well understand what’s happening and if we walk out and refuse to watch, we’ll be in the dark.
The video starts out with just a black screen but it’s jarring and shaky and there’s sound, but it’s not clear. Muffled voices and maybe crying.
My stomach lurches inside me because I recognize that voice.
Teenage Grace.
The camera angle changes and then she comes into view. She’s bound and gagged, lying on her side in a dark corner of a filthy room. Her eyes are wide with fear and her nightgown is tattered and dirty. She squirms as the camera approaches her—
Conner reaches out and flips the computer closed this time. “Enough.”
“He says he taped her. He says he has days, weeks, months’ worth of video of her, Asher. And he’s left her alone all these years because she never told anyone and she never got attached. But apparently that’s changed. He said he’s been watching and to tell you, ‘She’s mine.’”
I just stare at Tray. If he’s trying to throw my whole world off its axis, mission accomplished.
Tray meets my stare and holds out a piece of paper with a trembling hand. “This is an account number where you need to transfer the money, Asher. It’s not for me, it’s for him. I’m just the messenger. My job is to deliver the message and he won’t hurt Sam.”
Conner and I look over at each other.
“And now I’ve done that. So make the transfer because I believe him. I think he really will kill Sam if you don’t. Or even worse, I think he might take Sam if you don’t.”
I give Conner a nod and he walks towards Tray and takes the paper from his outstretched hand. Then he pulls out his phone and texts the bank in Switzerland.
I stare at the computer, wondering if I should watch more of the video. Wondering if I can actually stomach more of the video. And knowing I have no choice in this matter. If I want to save Grace, I need as many facts as I can get. She might hate me for inserting myself into her life, but that’s a chance I’ll have to take. It’s more important that she’s safe.
“Done,” Conner says as he reads an incoming message.
Tray straightens his ripped and rumpled jacket, lets out a long breath, and heads for the door, giving his bodyguard a nod as he passes.
“Wait.” I snap out of my stupor before Tray makes it to the door. “When you talked to him… what did that sick fuck say he wanted?”
“Grace,” Tray calls out, his back to me as he walks away. “He says he wants Grace.” And then he stops and turns his head slightly so I can see his profile. “And he said he’s coming to get her and there’s nothing you can do to stop him, so be ready.”
They walk out and the door closes behind him.
“Come on,” Conner says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Everything is about to explode and we need to get ahead of it.”
“How, Conner? How the fuck are we gonna get ahead of this?”
“I’m calling Dad and the PR people. We need to have a solid plan for dealing with Sam and that video. It’s not the end of the world, V. You and I both know her bottling all that up inside is not good for her. We will walk her through it and she will come out the other end better than ever.”
“Vaughn,” Tray says from his perch on the barstool a few feet away. “Whatever you think, I did that for her own good. She confided in me, and no matter what you think is happening here, you’re wrong. I thought she could handle it, and she did pretty well, but she cracked at the end and lost control. So I stopped. If you watch the whole video, you’ll see. I did that to help her.”
“And you’re here asking for ten million dollars because you love her?”
“No.” He stands up from the bar and I realize something isn’t right. His clothes are all rumpled and there’s a rip, like someone took a razor and sliced the front of his white dress shirt. His jacket pocket is hanging by a thread, and his tie is too loose. “No, I just needed to get you here. I just needed you to come hear me out. It’s not for me, OK? I don’t want your money. I want your sister. But she walked out and I was trying to process what was happening with”—he waves a hand at the computer—“this fucking bullshit.”
Conner seethes next to me. “Why the fuck are we here, Tray?”
Tray looks right at me. And this, for some reason, scares me. “Grace,” Tray says, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What?” I growl at him. I’m so fucking close to beating the shit out of this guy. The only thing that holds me back is the knowledge that he wants me to do that. He wants me to do that so he can sue me and drag my name through the tabloids. “How the fuck would you know anything, asshole? The whole thing is sealed up.”
“I don’t need records, Vaughn. I got a phone call back on Saint Thomas. That morning Sam left, in fact. I got a call and that’s why I was out drinking. He threatened me, you guys. He threatened to kill Sam if I refused to help him. And somehow he got this video. That’s not my account on YouTube, OK?” Tray says it like he’s pleading with us to believe him. “That’s his account. The video is private right now, but at six tonight, he’s making it public. He said that’s my payment for being perfect and privileged. Everyone needs to pay, and I’m no different. That’s what he said. So no matter what, that video of Sam is going to be all over the internet tonight.”
“That makes no sense,” Conner says. “Why release the video if he gets what he wants? That’s not how guys like this work.”
“He’s crazy, Conner. He said girls are weak and can’t face reality without the guidance of a man. He said he liked me because I got Sam to make that video, but that I was a coward for not publishing it and making her face her fear. So he was going to take away my options. My decision, he said that specifically. He was going to take away my decisions and force me to behave like a man.”
All I can think of is Grace. Is this why she prefers her fantasy life? Did this sick fuck mess with her brain? Confuse her and force her to believe that she was incapable of living in reality?
“And then,” Tray continues, “I got a visit a few days ago and that computer was dropped off. Open the computer back up, Conner. There’s a minimized window. Bring it up and watch.”
Conner defers to me and I nod. “Do it.” We might as well understand what’s happening and if we walk out and refuse to watch, we’ll be in the dark.
The video starts out with just a black screen but it’s jarring and shaky and there’s sound, but it’s not clear. Muffled voices and maybe crying.
My stomach lurches inside me because I recognize that voice.
Teenage Grace.
The camera angle changes and then she comes into view. She’s bound and gagged, lying on her side in a dark corner of a filthy room. Her eyes are wide with fear and her nightgown is tattered and dirty. She squirms as the camera approaches her—
Conner reaches out and flips the computer closed this time. “Enough.”
“He says he taped her. He says he has days, weeks, months’ worth of video of her, Asher. And he’s left her alone all these years because she never told anyone and she never got attached. But apparently that’s changed. He said he’s been watching and to tell you, ‘She’s mine.’”
I just stare at Tray. If he’s trying to throw my whole world off its axis, mission accomplished.
Tray meets my stare and holds out a piece of paper with a trembling hand. “This is an account number where you need to transfer the money, Asher. It’s not for me, it’s for him. I’m just the messenger. My job is to deliver the message and he won’t hurt Sam.”
Conner and I look over at each other.
“And now I’ve done that. So make the transfer because I believe him. I think he really will kill Sam if you don’t. Or even worse, I think he might take Sam if you don’t.”
I give Conner a nod and he walks towards Tray and takes the paper from his outstretched hand. Then he pulls out his phone and texts the bank in Switzerland.
I stare at the computer, wondering if I should watch more of the video. Wondering if I can actually stomach more of the video. And knowing I have no choice in this matter. If I want to save Grace, I need as many facts as I can get. She might hate me for inserting myself into her life, but that’s a chance I’ll have to take. It’s more important that she’s safe.
“Done,” Conner says as he reads an incoming message.
Tray straightens his ripped and rumpled jacket, lets out a long breath, and heads for the door, giving his bodyguard a nod as he passes.
“Wait.” I snap out of my stupor before Tray makes it to the door. “When you talked to him… what did that sick fuck say he wanted?”
“Grace,” Tray calls out, his back to me as he walks away. “He says he wants Grace.” And then he stops and turns his head slightly so I can see his profile. “And he said he’s coming to get her and there’s nothing you can do to stop him, so be ready.”
They walk out and the door closes behind him.
“Come on,” Conner says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Everything is about to explode and we need to get ahead of it.”
“How, Conner? How the fuck are we gonna get ahead of this?”
“I’m calling Dad and the PR people. We need to have a solid plan for dealing with Sam and that video. It’s not the end of the world, V. You and I both know her bottling all that up inside is not good for her. We will walk her through it and she will come out the other end better than ever.”
