Page 75 of Am I the Only One

“What about yesterday? The money?”

She leans across the table, getting close to my face, and in a hushed voice, tells me, “I told you the plan was done the last time we met. We were done as soon as you refused to give me the texts and emails. There is no money.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Shittingyou? No. I told you not to see him again, so what happened yesterday is on you,” she says before slipping out of the booth and standing.

When she tosses a few dollars onto the table, I grab her wrist, and her eyes fly open in shock. “Do you realize the damage I could do to you, both you and your husband?”

Her jaw locks.

“If I don’t get paid, I’ll release the texts.”

She yanks her arm free of my grip as her eyes dart around the empty diner. Carly sees the young, knocked-up waitress watching us, and choses to take her seat again instead of making a bigger scene. “You wouldn’t.”

I stare her down in hopes of intimidating her, and after a handful of uncomfortable seconds pass, she rebuttals my threat.

“What about your reputation that you’ve been so fearful of damaging?”

“I’m not talking about the texts between Tripp and me.”

It takes her only a breath of time for her to read between the lines and realize that she, not her husband, would be my target.

I smile. “None of the texts I ever sent you incriminate me. You’d never be able to prove that I slept with him, and I seriously doubt Tripp would come to your defense and admit his affair.”

“I don’t have any more money to give you,” she seethes under her breath. “If I pull out more cash, he’ll notice. I’ve already given you all the money from my private accounts.”

“That isn’t my problem.”

“Think about what you’re asking of me.”

It’s laughable that she’s still making herself out to be the victim. “And think about what you’re asking ofme. I’m not out here fucking your husband for free.”

“I told you not—”

“I get it. But it happened, and if you think I’m simply going to chalk yesterday up totaking one for the team, you’re wrong.”

She takes a hard swallow, her neck flexing as she does.

Yeah, it’s a jagged pill I just forced her to swallow.

“Fine,” she bites. “I’m going to need a little time to get the money.”

“How much time?”

Flustered, she stammers over her words as she slides out of the booth. “Three...maybe four days.”

“Ten thousand. Same as last time.”

“Are you insane?” she whisper-shouts. “I’ll pay you five and not a penny more. After that, you leave my husband and me alone. I want you to stay away from us, got it?”

“Whatever you say.”

Emma

My stomach has been tangled between anxiety and elation ever since I left the diner. Never had I felt like such a badass as I did in that moment, taking this situation in my own hands. When she drove away, I released the biggest breath of my life. There was no questioning whether she bought my threats, hell, I even convinced myself that I would go to any length to ensure she pays me. My heart rate is still through the roof as I drive back home.

In a way, my ability to be that conniving alarms me but also excites me, to realize how strong I could be when pushed against a wall. But there’s also fear woven between these emotions, the fear that, after she hands over the measly five grand, that will really be it. I’ve been able to bank sixty-five thousand dollars, which helps, but only a little. It still isn’t enough to get myself through my last few semesters of college after I pay for Matthew’s expenses and pay down some of my debt. I’m still short ... by a lot.