“There’s bad news, and bad news. There are pictures,” Ed started.
“I’m aware of that,” my anger over this situation was rising.
“Yes, well according to the techs on the crisis team, you’ve only actually seen one of them. Several have been sent to your phone, but you haven’t viewed the rest of them,” Ed continued.
“That’s right,” I said.
“Okay. The techs are forensically tracking everything. We know the details from Cindy’s phone, which was used as the originating hardware, how many, and what the images are. No video, that we know of.” Ed said.
“The forensic tracking led to Carl Covington’s phone. He’s the, uh, perpetrator …”
“The guy that screwed my wife,” I interrupted Ed, “I only knew his name was Carl.”
“Yeah, uh, look there’s no easy way to say this Jeff. Carl Covington is a nobody, essentially he was just a honey trap, from the information we’ve collected,” Ed said.
“Okay. I really don’t need play by play details right now. Just sketch out the important stuff,” I said.
Ed looked like he was struggling to move forward. He was very apprehensive about telling me something. I glanced down at Tabs icon and she was staring down at her desk.
“Spit it out, Ed don’t sugar coat this shit for me,” I demanded, already tired of this conversation.
Ed looked ashen as he continued.
“We have indications that Nick is involved,” Ed stated warily.
“Nick who?” I boomed. “If the next word out of your mouth is Gantry, you’re all fired!”
The depth of my rage was palpable. Both in the spa and over the phone, my wrath was felt as it escaped the tight control over my emotions like an arrowhead piercing ancient armor.
My eyes dared anyone to say anything and my glare was met with meek expressions of resignation.
The silence was deafening.
It contained the answer that I didn’t want to hear.
Ed started to speak and I glared at him.
“Don’t even think about telling me to calm down!” I said.
“How the hell did this happen!” I demanded.
“How did my wife, my wife,” I screamed in frustration, “become a target of destruction!”
Zoey and Nomi both boldly approached me from either side and dropped down into the hot tub. They leaned against me in mutual support to calm my rage. I allowed them to try to work their magic because I realized that Vicky was right. They were, after all, her tools and have already proved to be invaluable to my emotional health since I met them.
Yes, I knew Vicky that well. Nothing had been said, no sly motions or looks had passed between anyone. But I knew, as sure as I was breathing, that Vicky had manipulated me since I boarded the Vixen.
We had not had an in depth talk of details or over emotionally sharing about the events that led me to the Vixen in the first place. Neither Vicky or I needed to do that. We have a strong bond of shared history between us; to a degree that much of our communication with each other occurred subconsciously. I can’t explain it, that’s just the way it is.
From The Vixen (The Lust Boat book 1) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LK0TTKG | Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22711110-the-vixen