Page 32 of Making Home with You (The Rockport Beach #3)

Finn

I must watch the video a dozen times by the time I finally stop for lunch. Not because I’m somehow getting off on watching a secret movie of me fucking my girlfriend, but because I’m trying to figure out if I can prove who it’s from and whether it’s something I want to report.

Even though I know it has to have come from Carla, there’s no way I can prove it. It’s a blocked number and the video itself has no sound and gives no clue as to who’s standing on the other side of the camera.

And while I know the BCI has the resources to investigate this, I’m not really sure I want Detective Greenwood or any of the other people investigating these allegations to see it.

In fact, I know I fucking don’t. How could I possibly be okay with strangers seeing my girlfriend like this?

This sort of thing is private and while I couldn’t care less about me, I definitely don’t want to expose Sarah to all the shit that could come from people seeing her like this.

But I can’t keep it and do my own investigation into where it came from either.

For one thing, I’m off the case. For another, because it’s an unknown number, I’d have to submit a formal request in order to access the records.

And a formal request means I’m interfering, which likely means I get my ass kicked, possibly suspended, for not staying out of the investigation like I was told to.

I should just report it to Detective Greenwood, I know that. But I can’t. I can’t do that to her.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I grab my jacket and walk out of my office. “I’m taking lunch,” I call to Mavis as I walk past the reception. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

I don’t catch whatever she says in return as the station door closes behind me. I don’t bother with my car, instead walking down Main Street toward the only safe haven it feels like I have left in this town. Christ, not even my own house is private anymore.

I walk into O’Loughlin’s and take a seat at our usual spot while Beck finishes serving some customers before wandering over.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay, you look a bit stressed out?”

I shrug. “Pissed off more like it,” I admit. “Can you get me a coke, please?”

“Sure,” Beck replies. “Shot of bourbon in it?”

“Fuck, I wish,” I say, scrubbing a hand down my face. I could definitely use a drink right now.

Beck grabs me my coke and walks over, putting it in front of me before asking, “You want the usual for lunch?” I nod and watch as he wanders back to place my order. After he’s done, he comes back, leans against the bar, arms crossed over his chest and says, “Okay, talk to me.”

I take a long sip of coke, replacing the glass on the counter before looking up at him. “I had a minor run-in with Carla last night,” I start, even knowing that’s the least of my worries right now.

“Shit. Where? What happened?” he asks, straightening a little.

“At the grocery store,” I say. “She saw me, came running over and then proceeded to act as though nothing was going on between us. Like she hadn’t filed a report or made any of these bullshit allegations or anything.”

“Fuck,” Beck says, letting out a long exhale. “What the fuck is wrong with that woman?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, I always found it weird that she was so strangely obsessed with me, but to make up these lies? To file an actual police report and then act like nothing has happened? It’s fucking crazy.”

“Ah, yeah,” Beck says. “Just like she is. God, she probably drew that cock on the side of her restaurant herself, just so she could get you investigating it.”

I nod once. “Yeah, the thought crossed my mind too,” I admit.

“What are you going to do?” Beck asks. “I’m assuming you’ll tell Greenwood about it?”

“Yeah,” I reply, scrubbing a hand through my hair. “I will. There’s more though, and it’s worse.”

Beck doesn’t say anything at first, instead calling out to one of the other staff members, asking them to take care of things for a bit before he moves around the bar and takes a seat on the stool next to me.

“Finn,” he starts, his tone serious as he briefly puts a hand on my arm. “What’s happened?”

I glance sideways at him, wondering how in the hell I’ve found myself in this situation. Not just this whole mess with Carla, although it’s clearly up there as one of the worst things to ever happen to me. But this coming to Beck for advice, for help on what to do.

I wasn’t even consciously aware that’s what I was doing when I left the station and walked in here just now. All I knew is I needed somewhere safe, somewhere that I had no chance of running into Carla or anyone else who thought I’d done the things she said I’d done.

It was pretty obvious by now, if you came into O’Loughlin’s, you believed my side of the rumors that were currently circulating around town.

And while most people had no clue as to the full story, it was reassuring to know so many people were still on my side.

A relief to know I wasn’t killing Beck and Ryan’s careers in addition to my own.

“Talk to me,” he says, when I still don’t say anything.

His words are enough though, because even though it’s been years since either of us has had to confide in each other about something serious, I know my brother means it when he says he wants to help.

Back when we were kids, it was mostly always him coming to me.

A younger brother seeking advice from the older brother who had been there and done all of it years before him.

And even though back then, most of that serious talk revolved around girls or school or whatever, I know it didn’t diminish the trust he had in me.

The trust I knew I could place in him in return.

“I got a text this morning,” I start, as a wave of exhaustion once again sinks over me. “It had a video embedded in it,” I continue, my eyes on the wooden bar, a finger tracing the grain line. “Somebody had filmed me through my living room window last Friday night.”

“What?” Beck asks, body tensing beside me. “What the fuck?”

I glance at him, an eyebrow raised. “That’s not even the worst part,” I tell him.

“Oh shit,” Beck says, as though he already knows. “Please don’t tell me…?”

“Yeah, was kind of a compromising position,” I admit. “And yes, it includes Sarah.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Beck says and I can hear the frustration and anger in his voice. “That woman will stop at nothing,” he adds. “Have you reported it?”

I shake my head.

“Finn, fuck, why not?” he asks, turning so he’s facing me now. “You gotta tell that Greenwood guy,” he continues. “This is exactly the kind of shit they need to hear about, so they can use it to end this mess.”

I nod. “I know, Beck,” I say. “Seriously, I know, but I just can’t do that to Sarah,” I tell him. “I can’t expose her like that, okay? They’re gonna want the video.”

“Jesus Christ,” Beck says, exhaling hard. “Please tell me she was at least stupid enough to send it from her phone?” he asks, a hopeful look on his face.

“No, of course not,” I tell him. “That would be far too easy.”

“You do a search at least?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I can’t, remember?” I tell him. “If I put in a request it makes me involved and I can’t be involved.”

Beck nods, turning away and staring at the rows of bottles that line the wall behind the bar.

Neither of us says anything now, except my thank you to the waitress when she brings me my BLT.

Eventually, Beck gives a quick nod before standing and turning to face me.

“Leave it to me,” he says, meeting my stare. “I’ve got an idea.”

“You want to elaborate?” I ask.

Beck shakes his head as he offers me a grin. “Better if you’re not involved, right?”

I nod, taking a bite of my sandwich. “Thanks, Beck, seriously.”

His smile widens now as he claps me on the back. “Come on, you’re my brother, you know I’d do anything for you,” he says, before walking back around the bar and getting back to work.

It’s strange how close I feel to breaking down in that moment.

When I get back to work, I open up the notes I made from my run-in with Carla on Sunday night.

After I add them to the running word document I’ve created of everything I can remember happening since this started, which uncoincidentally is also around the time I started dating Sarah, I attach it to an email and send it off to Detective Greenwood.

I don’t send or mention the video, not quite ready to go there yet.

Even though I’m absolutely positive it’s come from Carla, who I’m sure has made copies she’s only too eager to share with the world, I’m not prepared to expose my girlfriend like that.

No matter how much it might aid my own situation.

After I click send, I pick up my phone and send Sarah a text.

Me: hey babe, hope you’re not too tired after your early start this morning…hope the meeting went well?

Sarah’s reply comes back immediately.

Sarah: meeting was a bust, annoying…day is ok, how are you?

I can’t help but smile at the idea that someone cares about me and my day, at the warm feeling that creates in my chest. Who knew being with someone, having a relationship like this could feel so good.

Finn: I’m ok…you wanna come over tonight, I’ll cook you dinner?

Sarah: dinner and a sleep over…you must really like me Chief?

I laugh, continuously surprised by this easy banter we share, by how much I love it.

Me: I do indeed…so that’s a yes?

Sarah: YES! Want me to get anything…dessert?

Me: there’s only one dessert I need ;)

Sarah: cheeky boy…cu tonight x

Me: can’t wait x

I push my phone to the side and turn my attention back to work.

Even though this dark cloud of bullshit that hangs over me shows no sign of disappearing anytime soon, just that simple back and forth with Sarah has somehow eased some of the anger and frustration that’s been building since I got that text this morning.

It’s amazing how much better things can seem with someone in your corner. Even though it continues to surprise me, I’m starting to see why Beck and Ryan gave everything up for the women in their lives. Considering everything you get in return, it all makes so much more sense to me now.

And it only strengthens my desire to protect Sarah from all of the bullshit I’m going through right now too, including knowing about that video.

Sarah arrives back in Rockport at a decent hour for a change and in a surprisingly good mood.

When I ask her about it, she chalks it up to a productive day, but doesn’t elaborate, instead telling me about the new client Kelsey passed onto her and how much they liked her work.

She’s been using her commute to do much of the work and while I hate the idea of her working such long days, it’s nice to see her happy about one job at least.

“So, you think you can help us out with the pub too?” I ask.

Sarah grins at me. “Kind of a weird conflict of interest there, isn’t it? Me related to one boss and sleeping with another?”

I chuckle. “Like I said, I promise I can be impartial,” I tell her. “But from what I hear, you’re really good at this stuff, so it isn’t going to matter.”

Sarah leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Of course I’ll help you out,” she says, nibbling my ear. “It would be my pleasure.”

I shoot her a glance, eyebrows raised. “And it would be my pleasure to repay you,” I say, giving her a wink.

Sarah laughs and it immediately makes my heart expand, as a warm feeling grows in my chest.

After dinner, Sarah and I spend the night on the couch binging on some Netflix show she’s into. It’s the second season and while I don’t really follow the story or understand what it’s about, it doesn’t matter. It’s just nice lying here with her.

I do make sure the blinds are closed though, because after this morning’s message, there’s not a chance in hell I’m risking someone being able to see us.

After a couple of episodes, Sarah sits up and stretches, her back arching in a way that makes my pulse quicken. “Ready for bed, Chief?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder at me.

I grin up her. “You better believe it,” I reply, standing and reaching out a hand to her.

Sarah slides her hand into mine and I pull her up and into my arms, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth.

“I’m just gonna take the trash out,” I say, lips against hers.

“I hope I find you naked in my bed when I come back inside.”

Sarah grins. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says, winking before smacking me on the ass and sashaying off to my bedroom.

Grin still plastered on my face, I walk into the kitchen to grab the trash and recycling before heading outside. Lifting the lid, I’m about to dump the bag inside when I notice something strange sitting on the pile of garbage already in there.

Putting the bag on the ground, I lean in and grab what turns out to be a large yellow envelope.

It’s brand new, clean as though it’s only recently been put in there and I can’t help but glance around, as though the person who dumped it might still be here.

Of course they aren’t, so sliding a thumb under the tab, I rip it open.

Inside are pictures that have obviously been ripped from a magazine.

Not just any magazine though, some kind of hard-core pornographic magazine.

There must be close to half a dozen pictures, all of women in really compromising positions, including blinded, gagged and tied up while multiple men fuck them.

It’s sick, but the worst part is the faces of these women.

All of them having been replaced by someone cutting out and sticking Sarah’s photo over it.

It’s clearly a shot of her when she was unaware her picture was being taken and that alone should piss me off, but to see her superimposed over these pictures.

Now my blood is fucking boiling.

It’s one thing for Carla to come after me. To be pissed that I’m not interested in her or that it’s not her I’m sleeping with or whatever.

But to go after Sarah, a woman who has absolutely nothing to do with any of this, now I’m fucking livid.

Shoving the pictures back into the envelope, I quickly go through the rest of the trash to see if there’s anything else. Thankfully, this is all there is, so after I drag the cans to the curb, I head back inside, slipping the envelope into my work bag so there’s no chance of Sarah seeing it.

Then, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to calm down, I head back to my bedroom and the only thing keeping me sane right now.