Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 8 TESSA

“Show me,” I say.

His brows dip.

I clear my throat and tip my chin up. “I need to see it.”

He tucks his phone into his pocket then climbs through his window and over to mine. I stand and move over to the bed, and he slides in next to me.

“Are you sure you want to see it?” he asks.

I nod, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks it, opens the app, and hands it over.

I stare at the profile. Sure enough, it’s a photo of me from the office Christmas party two years ago. The details are right, but as I glance through the videos posted, it’s not me.

“I don’t know Stephanie’s body all that well, but it could be her. Don’t you think?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I haven’t paid her much attention, to be honest.”

I twist my lips, and I click one of the previews. There’s no talking, just swaying to some quiet music in the background. She mostly fills the screen, but I look wildly around the room for any clue. I come up empty. The walls are white and empty, like maybe she took down some photos to record this video.

She slides her fingers into the top of her panties, and a notification pops up on the screen.

Want to see more?

I click the yes button, and it takes me to another screen for payment information. I glance at Tristan, who’s chewing his bottom lip, and he nods. I click accept, and it takes me back to the video.

There’s still no face, but she turns around and plays with her hair a little, pulling it up like she’s making a ponytail before letting it drop.

“Wait,” Tristan says. “Can you rewind that?”

My brows dip, and I click the screen. A video control bar pops up, and I click the rewind button.

“Pause it,” he says. I click pause.

“What are you looking at?” I ask.

“Right there,” he says. He takes the phone from my hand and moves the video bar just slightly as she pulls her hair up. “There’s a tattoo on her neck just under her hairline.”

He moves the video around just a little again, but it’s impossible to make out what it is. I spot just the edge of some ink, but it’s blurred and hard to see.

“Does Stephanie have a tattoo?” he asks.

I shrug. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen her with her hair up.”

He blows out a breath. “It’s not much, but it’s a lead. We can watch more of these and see if we can get a clear view of it, or we could file a police report and let them do the research.”

He clicks play, and we watch as she unhooks her bra, the camera taking in her naked back. She crosses her arms and turns around, then makes a big show of lowering one arm at a time so we can get a good view of her boobs.

She plays with them, and I roll my eyes as I fast forward. But there aren’t any more shots of her neck.

“Let’s file the report tomorrow,” I say, and he nods as I hand him back his phone.

He scrolls down a little, and he tries another video. There’s no neck in this one, either. He tries a few more, and he glances over at me.

I shrug. “Try one more, and then we’ll let the police handle the rest.”

He clicks it, and it’s a lot like the last one. It’s like she filmed a hundred clips of herself doing the same thing over and over.

No neck in this one, either.

No other clues.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah, I’m all right. Just the thought that this is out there, that someone somewhere might really believe this is me…it’s gross,” I say, and my stomach twists at the thought. “In one way, I feel a little violated.”

“You have every right to feel that way. What this person is doing…it has to be illegal, right? We’ll get to the bottom of it,” he says.

We’re both quiet a few beats, and then I glance over at him. “Is it always going to be like this?”

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I don’t know,” he says, and his honesty makes my chest tighten with fear. “But I’ve got your back, Tess. T and T, always, okay?”

“Always,” I repeat.

I fall asleep in his arms, and he’s gone when I wake up in the morning. I meet him at the new house after a shower and breakfast, and there’s already a huge delivery truck waiting out front.

“Where do you want the couch?” one of the delivery workers asks me as I walk in.

“Is it the sectional or the sofa and loveseat?” I ask.

“Sofa,” he says.

“Over there,” I say, pointing toward the middle of the front room. The furniture is arriving at our new house today, and we’re moving in next Monday—just as soon as Tristan gets back from minicamp this weekend. We’re both excited, but we’re both intent on not rushing things, too. I can’t rush things anyway right now, not in my current state of carrying this watermelon in my stomach.

I walk through the house and into the kitchen, where I spot Tristan talking to Walter Keegan.

“Any other details you’d like to provide?” Walt asks.

Tristan shakes his head.

It’s so strange seeing Walter Keegan in a police uniform. He was always a nice kid, but I remember him jumping a fence to get drunk out in the cornfields behind town when I was a freshman and he was a senior. Funny how he’s the one trying to stop kids from doing the same things he used to do as he works to uphold the law.

“I think that’s everything,” Tristan says.

Walt nods and glances at me. “Tristan filled me in on the impersonator. I’ll share the information with Roger, and we’ll get to work on it.”

There isn’t a lot of crime in the small town of Fallon Ridge, and we share our officers with the town next to us. The small police department is made up of the police chief, two sergeants, and four officers—one of which is Roger, the town’s detective.

“Have a great day, ma’am. We’ll be in touch with any questions,” Walt says to me, and he heads through the house and out the front door.

“You filed the report already?” I ask softly.

Tristan nods as his eyes fall tenderly to me. “I didn’t want you to have to relive it again.”

I practically fall into his arms. “You’re so good to me.”

He sighs. “Doing my best,” he finally says. “And I have some good news, if you’d like it.”

“I’d love some good news.”

“Richard emailed me this morning,” he says, referring to his lawyer.

“He did?” My heart thunders in my chest as anxiety pours through my body and into my words. He said it’s good news, so it has to be what I’m praying it’ll be…right?

He nods, and his lips lift. “Cameron signed the papers.”

“He did?” I ask again, but this time my voice holds relief.

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “He did,” he confirms.

“The sectional?” one of the delivery workers yells through the house, interrupting our intimate moment.

“In here,” I yell back, indicating the family room on the other side of the kitchen.

Our day transitions from whatever weirdness is happening on a porn site over to making sure all our new furniture ends up in the right place as Tristan goes upstairs to direct the delivery men up there. I stay downstairs to place everything down here.

I’m sure we’ll have a chance to talk more later, but for now, at least one fire is out. Now for the rest of them.