Promise You Won't Tell?

Chapter 40

I’m keeping my promise to Riley. I agreed not to watch the CD, and I won’t. But I didn’t agree not to make a copy. 

Am I splitting hairs? 

Of course. Look, I’m sorry, but I did not go through all this just to walk away while the answer is literally in my hands. 

I have to see what happened. 

I have to know. And don’t get all high and mighty with me, because you would have done the exact same thing.

So don’t even go there!

After making the copy, I put it in my safe, unwatched. Then I put the original CD in my handbag, and drive to Gavin’s office.

 “What did she say?” he says, before I even manage to take a seat. Then he says, “I should have stuck to the two million, shouldn’t I? The minute you left I regretted going to three. No way she would’ve turned down two million.”

 “But you did say three, right?” I say, ugly streak still intact.

His face falls. “Fuck. Two million would have done it. I knew it!”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I say. “She turned you down.”

“Sh-she what? What? She turned—what?”

He’s really upset. This is no longer fun for me. I don’t enjoy seeing anyone squirm like this. 

He yells, “You told her three million, right? What are you talking about, she turned me down?”

I don’t hate him as much as I did when I thought he erased the photos on the boys’ phones. That would have made him guilty of destroying evidence. What he’s really guilty of is loving a rotten son, and cleaning up after him his whole life instead of letting Ethan take responsibility for his actions. Yes, Gavin’s shady. And I’m not sure what role he might’ve played in Parker Page’s confession. Or why he got it from her in the first place. Or how he planned to use it. But like I say, I’m not enjoying this. 

I’m not looking forward to telling him about the extra million she’s demanding, either. 

He yells, “I’m not sure you’re representing me properly, Ms. Ripper! I think you might be working against me! What the fuck is going on here? If I find out you’re milking this situation, I’ll—”

But here’s the thing: I don’t hate mentioning it, either. It’s kind of nice to see the bully get a beating.

“She said no to your three million, but she made you a counter.”

I hand him the piece of paper with the information about her charity.

“What’s her number?” he says. “Three-point-five?”

“Six.”

“Three-point-six?”

“No, sir. Six million.”

“Get the fuck out of here!”

“Seriously? You want me to leave?”

“No, asshole. It’s an expression. What the hell are you talking about? What happened to five million?”

“She said your counter was an insult. She feels the case is worth twelve million. She thinks you’re getting off easy.”

“This fucking gutter snipe thinks I’m getting off too easy by blackmailing me to the tune of six million dollars?”

“I don’t think she considers it blackmail.”

“Explain the logic behind that comment.”

“You offered her a million dollars to go along with a lesser charge. She countered your offer.”