a short account of how she and everyone in the office received it, that it was undoubtedly a fake, and that she wanted him to investigate and tie it to Clint somehow.
Disgruntled and dejected that nothing would probably come of it, she shut off her computer, grabbed her purse, left her office, locked up the front door behind her, and walked down the path to Tate’s truck.
She climbed in and studied Tate, who looked even more upset than she still felt. “What’s wrong?” She noticed the button-up shirt and slacks and asked, “Why are you dressed up?” She was used to seeing him after work in jeans and a T, sometimes a flannel.
Tate stared through the windshield not saying anything.
“Tate. What is it?” She reached out and touched his shoulder. Rock hard, every muscle tense, he fumed on the inside but didn’t show it on the outside. “What happened?”
He lifted his phone, tapped the screen, and turned it to her.
UNKNOWN: I had her first
The text set off another round of alarms in her brain and notched her heartbeat up to hummingbird speed.
Tate tapped the video below the text.
Her heart stopped. This time, it wasn’t a fake but her with Clint in bed. Not as explicit or graphic as the porno, they were under the covers, but still. Tate didn’t need to see her with him.
How dare Clint taunt Tate.
No one wanted to see the person they loved in bed with someone else.
Her stomach dropped and she clutched at the door handle as bile rose up her throat. She fell out of the truck onto the sidewalk and threw up in the gutter, retching when her stomach was empty but her body still tried to expel the horror out of her system.
Tate’s hands landed on her shoulders and he brushed her hair back into his hand and away from her face.
She swiped the back of her hand across her sour mouth and sobbed so hard her stomach hurt more and her eyes squinted closed but the tears just kept coming.
Tate whispered soothing words at her ear she couldn’t comprehend.
Nothing helped ease her mind or heart. She felt violated and exposed. She raged that Clint would do this to her. Film her without her consent or knowledge. Send it to Tate. To anyone. Their private moment, even if she did look back with regret that she’d ever been with him.
Tate somehow turned her around and wrapped her in a hug. “Ssh, you’re all right. It’s going to be okay.”
Neither of those things were true and just set off another round of racking tears that just made Tate hold her tighter.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown you that.”
“H-he s-sent one to e-every. O-one. At work.” She gasped for air that wouldn’t fill her lungs and buried her face in the collar of Tate’s nice shirt.
“What the fuck!” Tate hooked his hand under her knees and picked her up right off the sidewalk and gently set her back on the seat in his truck. He found a couple take-out napkins in the glove box, wiped the tears from her face with one, then handed her the other to blow her nose with. He grabbed the water bottle from the console, uncapped it, and handed it to her. “Rinse and spit, then drink some. Just a little. You don’t want to make yourself sick again.”
She did as he said, waiting for him to step back so she didn’t splash spit on his polished black boots. Feeling marginally better, she took a few sips, then turned to him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he . . . You should have never seen . . . How could he . . . I’m sorry. I’m so s-sorry.” Tears flooded her eyes again.
Tate reached for her face and made her look at him. “Don’t say sorry for him. I’m not mad at you. I’m furious he’d do something so reprehensible. Then again, I should have expected him to make his point to me. He can’t stand that we’re together.”
“It just keeps getting worse.”
Tate’s thumb swept across her cheek, wiping away more tears. “Not your fault, sweetheart.” He touched his forehead to hers, held her for a moment, then stepped back. “Did he send the same thing to everyone at work?”
“No. Worse. I guess. I don’t know what’s better or worse about those videos.” She tried to make her brain and the words coming out of her mouth make sense. “He doctored a porno to make the girl