“If he assaulted you,” Shaw said, “this is a matter for the police. I can drive down there with you.”

“No.” The word came out mangled. “No. No police.”

“If he—”

“He filmed it.” Matty scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “I didn’t think we were in love or anything. I didn’t think he was going to marry me. I didn’t even know his name. But it was . . . it was . . .”

Shaw let out a slow, measured breath as realization clicked.

North said it. “Your first time.”

“I’m just so fucking stupid.” Matty was crying freely now, but his words, although thick, were clear. “I thought I was being smart. I thought I knew what I was doing. I had a condom. I had lube. I’d even, you know, gotten ready. Just in case. But I never thought a guy would—would do something like that. When we—when it was over, he went into the bathroom and I heard the water and then he came back out and sat in a chair and told me. He wasn’t even dressed. Just sitting there, his dick hanging between his legs while he told me he had a nice video of me begging for him to—” Matty stopped. Shook his head. “And he said he’d give me the original for five thousand dollars.”

“Go to the police,” North said.

Matty stared at him. Then he turned to Shaw.

“It’s blackmail,” Shaw said. “North is right; you need to talk to the police.”

“No. I can’t. I cannot do that, do you understand? If I talk to the police, it’s official. If they catch him, if they arrest him, if they prosecute him, there will be a trial. It’s all going to be public—”

“That’s not necessarily true,” North began.

Matty talked over him, his voice rising. “Do you know what my dad would do? My dad would kill me. He would kill me with his bare hands. And my mom. Do you have any idea—no. No. I am not going to the police. I’ve got money.” He fumbled in his pocket, produced a wallet and began stacking crisp, hundred dollar bills on his knee. “I can pay you. I know you don’t do anything for free, but I can pay. If you give me some time, I can pay double—”

“No,” North said.

Shaw’s hand closed reflexively around Matty’s. Then, forcing his breath to softness, Shaw stood. “Matty, I need to talk to North alone for a minute.”

“I said no to this Shaw.” North leaned forward, elbows on knees, his gaze pointedly excluding Matty. “We’re not doing this.”

“Matty, step outside.”

Shuffling the hundreds into his hand, Matty stood, his gaze rocketing between the two men for a minute, and then he went to the door. As he opened it, Pari’s voice swam in from the outer office.

“Shaw, God help you if you threw away my Oikos—oh. Hello.”

“Umm,” Matty said.

“Pari,” Shaw called through the door, “Matty is a client. Could you make sure he’s comfortable while North and I discuss something?”