Betty
I stood with my back to the door, my heart racing as Michael dripped water onto my floor. I couldn’t keep up with the thousands of thoughts in my head. Duke’s hand on my wrist still burned. Michael’s desperate eyes haunted me. And the envelope in my hands felt like a thousand pounds.
“You looked into Duke. You hired someone to find out about his past.” Out loud, my voice sounded hollow.
“Yes,” Michael replied.
“Why did you do that?” Michael answered, pulling out the phone and showing me.
“I got a message. A direct message with a picture of your bruised back, it reads, she is in danger. Red Room Club. Tonight.”
My stomach twisted. Someone took that photo of me. Someone sent it to Michael. “Who did this?” I asked again.
“The number was untraceable,” Michael ruffled his wet
