Page 94 of On the Run
“Tommy? Tommy! Damn, baby, what’re the chances? Been callin’ you for weeks!”
The bad news was that so often when you thought you’d hit bottom, you hadn’t quite gotten there yet.
I opened my eyes to find Aron standing in front of me on the sidewalk, flanked by a couple other muscleheads. They were all dressed to the nines, like they were out on the prowl, and the look on Aron’s face as he stared at me suggested I was a Christmas miracle that had appeared a few months early.
One of the friends jabbed the other in the bicep, and they rolled their eyes behind Aron’s back in a knowing way, like they thought their friend was about to score before they even made it to the club.
The very idea made me wanna vomit.
“Mi angel, can we talk for a second?” Aron reached out a hand for me, and when I sidestepped, he darted a glance at the others, like he didn’t want me to get away but also didn’t want to explain my presence to his friends.
I inhaled sharply. Once again, my instincts were screaming at me to walk away, run away, deflect, and retreat, but I made myself stand firm. I wasn’t going to do that anymore. Leaving Whispering Key was the last time I would run away.
From now on, I was runningtowardsomething. Toward Beale.
So instead, I pretended that Beale was standing behind me, his broad chest against my back.
“I told you not tomi angelme,” I said, folding my arms. “It was bad enough hearing it the night you staged that picture.”
“What? Tommy, come on.” Aron smiled for his friends’ benefit and reached for me again. “Two minutes—”
“Zero minutes, and do not place your hand on me unless you’d like me to explain to your friendsexactlyhow a photographer from BlazeNewz helped you pay for that Tom Ford.” I gave his suit a critical eye. “Under these streetlights, you look positively jaundiced. Silver issonot your color.”
He forced a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy. I didn’tstage—”
“Of course, I’m sure your friends will find out all the details when I testify on behalf of Jayd Rollins. I’ve already given an affidavit that the picture was staged,” I lied, not bothering to lower my voice. “I named you and BlazeNewz specifically, and explained all about the deal I was offered to out Jayd for money—”
“Aron, what’s he talking about?” One of Aron’s friends elbowed him in the side.
Aron seemed too busy staring at me to notice.
“I’m not certain whether his team are planning to go forward with things from a legal standpoint first,” I continued blithely, “or just get HiWire News to write up a huge exposé of the situation. First they need to contact your gym to see how they feel about one of their trainers being involved in something like this. And they’ll contact that body competition thingy, too—”
“Muscle Men of Manhattan?” Aron’s eyes were round. “No.”
“Yep.” I inspected my nails. “But it won’t be so bad. Your bosses might not be happy, and I’m not sure if the Muscle Men will want someone of your moral standing to compete, but at least you have your blood money, right? Better than the choice you gave Jayd.”
“Jayd?” Aron’s other friend said. “Like, Rollins? Wait, what?”
Aron swallowed and whispered hotly, “But I’m notoutin the bodybuilding world. They can’t run a story with my name that ties me to Muscle Men! That wouldn’t be…”
I gave him a look that said he was a hypocriteandan asshole.
“…cool,” he finished weakly. He ran a hand through his hair, which was a poor choice considering how much product was in it. “Shit. Tommy,mi… uh.” He cleared his throat and held out his hands in a placating way. “There’s no need for any of that. I’m sure we can figure something out.”
I tilted my head to one side. “Not my call, Aron, but I don’t know why they’d have any interest in helping you out unless you managed to get BlazeNewz to stop showing that picture, and I’m pretty surethatcould only happen if you admitted you staged it—”
“Y-yeah,” he said quickly. “Okay. I’ll say I photoshopped it.”
“Really?” I slathered my voice with a thick layer of disbelief. “Even if BlazeNewz makes you give their money back?”
“Ah, damn.” Aron shut his eyes. “Yeah.”
I tried not to show that I was doing an internal victory dance. “Well, I’m not sure if anyone will listen to me, since I’m just the eyewitness to the crime you perpetrated, but I’ll mention your intention to the, um… crack legal team.” I shrugged. “We’ll see what they say.” I smiled at his friends. “You all have a lovely night.”
“Aron? Dude! The fuck did you do?” I heard the guys mutter as I walked around them and continued down the street.
Halfway down the block, my hands started to shake. I needed Beale so, so, so much. I wanted to tell him the whole story. I could almost picture his smile.
