Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(72)

She didn’t recognize the deep male voice. “May I help you?”

“No, but I’m willing to help you. I have something you want.”

“Who is this?”

“Freddie. Freddie Siskin. Remember me?”

She couldn’t stop her skin from crawling. “Yes, I remember you. Why are you calling me? Do you want to make another donation to my charity?”

“No,” he snapped. “I don’t want to make another donation to any damn charity.”

“Then I’m going to end this conversation.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you. I’ve got something you might want.”

“If it’s not a donation, then what is it?”

“A sex tape.”

She looked over at Striker and saw the way his face had tightened. “Excuse me?”

“I have a sex tape of you and Scott doing the nasty. He gave it to me. If you call Scott for verification, I’ll put it out on social media. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that, being an heiress and all.”

“I don’t believe you.” She wondered how Freddie had found out she was an heiress. And from the look in Striker’s eyes, she knew he was wondering the same thing. If Freddie knew, chances were Scott knew as well.

“Then meet me somewhere so I can give you your own personal copy. Once you view it, you’ll have twenty-four hours to contact me to make a deal. If it’s something you don’t want exposed to millions, then be ready to pay me off.”

“That’s extortion!”

“Call it whatever you like. Meet me today. And, remember, if Scott tells me you called him, then all talks are off. Besides, Scott is pretty pissed with you, which is why he gave me the sex tape. All this time he thought you were a struggling seamstress. Imagine his shock when I told him you’re loaded. You used him.”

“I didn’t use him.”

“You forced us to give our hard-earned money to some damn charity.”

“You didn’t have to accept the deal. Both of you could have gone to jail.”

He snorted. “Just because of a joke I played on you? Look, I’m through talking. If you don’t want me to put this sex tape on the internet, I suggest you meet me today.”

Margo held Striker’s gaze as he mouthed the words stall him. She nodded. “We can’t meet you today. I’m not in town now.”

“Too bad. I would suggest you make your way back to Charlottesville. I will call you in four hours with the location.”

“But what if I can’t get back to Charlottesville by then?”

“Then that will be pretty damn unfortunate. Like I said, I will call you back. If you report this conversation to anyone, then be prepared for the consequences.”

Freddie hung up.

Margo clicked off her phone, and for the longest time, she just sat there. Shocked. Did Scott actually make a tape of one of their lovemaking sessions? A part of her wanted to believe that Freddie was lying. But what if he wasn’t?

“Margo?”

She blinked and met Striker’s gaze. There was nothing judgmental in the eyes staring back at her, and she appreciated that. If Scott had made a sex tape and given it to Freddie, she didn’t want to think of the possible consequences. “Yes?”

“If given the chance, I plan to kick Freddie’s ass right along with Scott’s.”

His words, filled with anger, conveyed his support, and at that moment she needed it. She felt like such an idiot for even getting mixed up with Scott.

“Don’t blame yourself,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “Personally, I don’t believe Freddie has anything. I think he’s merely trying to play you. Get some money off you.”

Even while her life seemed to be falling apart, she still felt desire with Striker’s touch. “But what if he does have a tape? He offered to let me view it before I pay anything.”

“I think he did it just to be convincing. It’s just bait to get to you.”

Striker’s words gave her some hope and were filled with such understanding and support that a part of her wished she could curl up in his lap, lay her head on his shoulder and have a good cry. “But how can we do anything when I’m in hiding, Striker?”

A wicked grin stretched across Striker’s lips as he ran his thumbs across her knuckles. “Just leave that up to me, Margo.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THAT NIGHT MARGO lay in bed beneath the covers, trying to put that phone call from Freddie Siskin out of her mind. It bothered her whenever she thought that Scott could stoop so low as to make a sex tape of them. More than anything, she appreciated Striker for taking control of the situation. His plan was truly ingenious, and she couldn’t wait for it to unfold.

Striker, determined to help her relax, had suggested that they have a picnic for lunch and spend some time outside by the lake. It was one of those rare days in February when the sun had come out. While he packed up the food for their meal in a basket, she’d gathered the blankets.

Freddie’s call could easily have ruined the entire day, but Striker had made sure it didn’t. While sitting on the blankets they’d spread on the ground, they’d made easy conversation, and she managed to relax.

Hours later, when they’d returned to the cabin, he watched a basketball game on television while she prepared a dinner that consisted of pork chops and gravy, wild rice, green beans, corn on the cob and iced tea. He’d told her a number of times that he had enjoyed it. After they had worked together and cleaned up the kitchen, she had gone upstairs to shower while he checked around and locked up for the night.