Page 91 of Broken Play
The comments read:
Yes, I believe in fate.
Is this your brother, Greyson?
Who is this with Greyson O'Ryan?
Whoever she is, he looks smitten.
Is he off the market? Please tell me he's still single.
Fate. Destiny. Yes!
"Noelle seems to know what she's doing. How did she get all those followers?"
"I have no idea. Maybe because she's a college cheerleader. She's been posting about cheer, softball, and tennis for a long time. Most of her followers are probably younggirls wanting to learn to flip or fly high into the air like her. Honestly, I'm not sure if it will work."
Her eyes widen, and she points to the post. "Oh, it's working. From the time we started this conversation, the video has gotten two hundred thousand likes and nearly fifty reposts. I just hope it draws the person out."
Wincing, I ask myself, What if the person still releases the video or attempts to do something worse to Sutton? Not wanting her out of my sight, I ask, "Wanna go feed the horses with me? I need to hire someone to do it, but I haven't had the time."
"Yes." She hops out of bed with me at four-thirty in the morning. We make a cup of coffee and head down to the barn. She's getting more comfortable now. Sutton rubs their noses and feeds them carrots. "I can see why you love animals so much."
"Granny made sure we were there enough to learn to help out, and then my parents bought the ranch that Dad and the kids still live on."
"You know, the only one who is still a kid is Witt."
"Hell, Sutton, I make my living playing a kids' game. I consider myself a child." I chuckle as my phone rings.
There's no name on the screen, so I let it go to voicemail.
Again, the phone rings. No caller ID. The third time, it's Witt.
"It's early for you to be up. Need anything?"
Witt scoffs. "I just got pinged on one of the scripts I wrote."
Talking to Witt is never easy. He thinks you should understand his vocabulary, and he doesn't give you context. He's the most literal guy ever. "And?"
"He or she emailed a partial video to the whole company."
My lids fall shut, and I feel a cramp in my throat. "Witt... how bad is it?"
"It shows you in the locker room nude, but they cropped out Sutton," he says matter-of-factly.
"That's a relief," I add, while Sutton's eyes plead for me to give her details.
"Not really. Think about it. Noelle is suggesting that you two are an item, so it won't be long before people realize it's her in the video."
"Fuck. Can you trace who sent it?"
"Working on it now."
I stay on the line, but Witt hangs up on me. I thought that meant he could tell me now—but the only answer I get is the hollow echo of my own fear of Sutton being exposed.
FIFTY
SUTTON
