Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“What is it?” Logan asks.
“I’m not really sure.” Drew looks at me and holds it up. I look at it and instantly recognize it’s a microSD card for a camera.
“Oh, I’ve got a reader that will plug into the back of the TV.” I grab my purse from the side of the couch and dig to the bottom until I find it. I put the tiny card into the slot, place the TV on the correct setting and plug in the reader.
“It looks like there’s a lot of stuff on here,” I say, scrolling through different random generic named videos. Everyone is huddled around the TV when I click on the first one and press play.
Mia’s face pops on to the screen and the remote slips from my fingers, hitting my shoe and bouncing to the floor.
Mia Fucking Montgomery.
“Hey, baby!” She flips her dyed blonde hair over her shoulder with a sly smile. “I wanted to wish you the happiest of birthdays. I miss you more than you’ll ever know.” She bends over and blows a kiss to the camera, and I nearly swallow down the vomit that rises in my throat.
“What is this?” I mutter, unable to take my eyes off the screen. No one says anything because no one knows what to say.
Mia continues, “And I miss the way you taste. I didn’t get nearly enough in Vegas.” When the word ‘Vegas’ leaves her lips, I see something in her eyes, a glimmer of hope almost. I’m so confused on where this is going. I can’t comprehend any of it and before I can open my mouth and ask Drew, the camera cuts to another frame. It’s the back of Mia and she’s walking toward a bed. Before she slips under the covers, she looks over her shoulder, bites her lower lip and then flashes a smile at the camera.
There’s little light in the frame, but I recognize the room, my clothes thrown over the chair, and my suitcase is in view. My heart drops when I realize it’s our room in Vegas.
My stomach rolls when the camera cuts to Drew sleeping shirtless. Mia crawls under the comforter. The frame changes once again, sunlight from the windows shine in as Drew’s voice echoes in the room, and I swallow hard, knowing exactly what Mia’s doing under there.
“Mm...sweetheart,” he growls, his back arching as she continues. “Looks like you’re making up for last night.”
My heart is breaking, shattering, falling to the floor in a million fucking pieces.
What the hell is happening? I’m so confused.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groans on the video as his hands grip the sheets tightly. It’s easy to assume what’s going on, the way Drew is enjoying himself as Mia hides under the covers.
I stand frozen as my world completely shatters. I can see and hear everything—the moans, the sheets rustling, my nickname on his lips. It all happens too fast.
Struggling to bend down and grab the remote, Viola reaches it before me and quickly turns it off. Swallowing hard, I work up the courage to look over at Drew, his face blood red and he’s noticeably livid.
I blink several times, hoping to erase the image out of my brain, but there’s no use. It’s now burned in there and I can’t feel anything. I’m numb. While I was waking up in a room alone, having no idea what was going on, Mia was in bed with Drew. She didn’t just come into our room to get me out of there, she put her mouth on him, trying to claim what was no longer hers. And Drew never fucking told me. He actually left out that one detail.
I look around and see everyone is as shocked as I am. Viola’s mouth is wide open and Travis’ jaw is clenched so tight, it looks like it could break right off his face. Kayla, Tyler, Logan, and Jackson are all staring at me intently, waiting for someone to explain what the hell is happening.
My throat is too dry to speak and the room is spinning. Watching her with him, them being intimate together, feels like a direct punch to the gut—so powerful it steals my breath away. Why didn’t I know? Why hadn’t he told me this happened? We’d gone over the Vegas incident at least a dozen times. He never said a damn word about this. I want to scream and ask so many questions, but I can’t find the right words. I can’t find any words.
I feel Drew’s hand on my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.” Drew pulls me to his chest and tightly wraps his arms around me and holds me. My arms stay limp to my sides as my head continues to spin. I can hear people whispering around us, but I can’t make out any of their words. My body shakes as I try to process it all—the images, his raspy, needy voice, her evil grin. It already haunts me.