Page 57 of The Devil's Detail
“Who the fuck is talking?” I shout over the voice as it fills the room.
They all look at each other. Nobody says a word. “Who.The.Fuck.Is.Talking?” Pointing around the room wildly, I enunciate every word. Again, no reply. “Where is Jameson Bonney?” I growl out. And Freddie gasps.
“You’ve been told? He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Not until you’ve signed the NDAs. We’ve all signed.” He points around at the three of them.
More fucking NDAs? I’m sick of them.
Freddie carries on talking. “The NDAs are here. Henry’s just signed his.” He points to the young, extremely good looking guy on the couch. The guy looks a bit worried. “He’s the next man in line—” Freddie tries to explain.
I see red and cut him off. “The next man? You mean victim for Mr Bonney. Here. In this fucking house?” I’m shouting, but I can’t stop myself, my rage starting to seep through my sanity.
“Well, not just here. He’s due to go to London, Morocco, Mallorca, Italy… Everything is set up. No one is supposed to know though, so ho?—”
“What exactly is the problem?” The young guy has decided to be brave. “We all know the score here. I’ve been going along with everything. I really want this. I’ve signed all the additional NDAs. I’m not being spoken to like this. I’m fucking good at what I do. I’m a professional.”
He’s a dickhead. And it pushes me to places best left in my past.
I see beyond red. Moving quickly, I grab him off the couch and push him up against the wall by his throat. I’ve been played by Carter and Mr Jameson fucking Bonney.
“Where the fuck is Bonney?”
In his panic, instead of turning it off, Freddie has hit the play button on the phone again. The voice starts to talk, and the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“We’re not supposed to tell you. Unless you sign the NDAs.” Freddie is nearly in tears as Ash tries to grab his phone.
The young English guy is nearly pissing his pants, but remains as still as a man trying to play dead for the big bad predator that is about to eat him alive. Smart boy.
I spin my death stare onto Freddie. “I signed every fucking NDA. Now tell me where he is. Tell mewhohe is. You can’t hide his identity forever?” My eyes are blazing. I’ve lost my mind. My body is totally working on autopilot, the fight instinct completely taking over.
The voice has moved through the Wi-Fi now and is quietly playing through the speakers in the room. But in my mind, it’s like a pair of symbols constantly crashing together.
“We don’t want to, only until tonight.” I start to squeeze Henry tighter as he gets those words out.
“Stop,” shouts Freddie in a clear panic. “It’s Carter, okay. It’s Carter. He’s Jameson Bonney. It’ll be announced tonight.”
My mind stops whirring. Everything has gone quiet. I don’t say a word. I continue to hold the actor up against the wall, andAsh has hold of Freddie as he tries to coax and cajole me not to kill the young guy.
Carter is Jameson Bonney? How can that be? His voice is a southern drawl. Not this English upperclass one I hear coming out of the speakers.
“It’s Carter. He’s a wizard with accents, always has been. Can change his voice to anything he puts his mind to.” Freddie is spilling his guts now. “Let him go, Jackson. Please.”
The doors swing open again, and in comes Mr Jameson Fucking Bonney. Carter Fucking Maywood. The man I was going to fuck. Pfffttt—the man I have already fucked. Everywhere. And he’s fucked me.
The lying, cheating scum. How dare he play me. Tell me he wants no secrets, and oh but sorry, I may have fucked you, but forgot to tell you. But please still be my boyfriend. I’m in love. I’ll bet you are. I’m a fucking God in the sack.
My rage hits intergalactic levels. I’m actually worried a bit about the guy I have in a chokehold. He’s going blue.
The bottle hitting the floor breaks my trance. I watch the dark green glass skitter across the hard tiles. Every shard a dagger to my hopes. Every sliver a nick to burst my dreams. Everything shattered and broken.
“Well Hello, Mr Bonney. Fancy meeting you here.” I stare at the man I was going to go all in for. I glare at the liar, who wove a tale of love so fucking strong, even I believed him. He’s an actor, what did I expect? The truth, the cold hard truth? He gave me a fucking fairy tale.
I drop the young guy, and he sinks to the floor. His knees buckle, and he slumps to the side. Freddie squeaks and rushes over to ensure he’s not dead. He isn’t. He’s probably acting as well.
I stand and glare at Carter. He looks like he’s been turned to stone. His face pale. His hands shaking. He’s raking his hair at ahundred miles an hour. Planting my hands on my hips, I grind out, “You better start talking.”
“Carter, you can’t divulge the plot. We’ll all be sued for millions.” Freddie has sprung up from the floor and has tears in his eyes. He thinks he’s about to lose his money. He might lose his life if he doesn’t shut up.
“Fucking plot. What plot? To trick me? To make out you were not you, and I was not me?”
