Dean managed to be himself the next two weeks so she didn't catch on to something being wrong. Luke kept his distance all the way up until the night before the final show where he caught Dean outside the locker room.
"I know what I want," Luke said.
"What?" Dean snarled.
"Her," Luke said.
Dean's jaw dropped, and he stared at the other man.
"You have got to be kidding me!" He yelled.
"Ssh, someone might hear you when you're mad like that, and then they'll come around asking what's going on, and I'll be forced to show them the pictures," Luke smirked. "Do you want people to see the pictures of your girlfriend?"
"You fucking asshole!" Dean growled lowly.
"One time with her. Tomorrow afternoon at 3. I need to get off before the final show," Luke said. "After that I'll delete the pictures."
"I'll delete the pictures!" Dean took a step closer.
"Sure, I'll hand over my phone so you can delete them," Luke chuckled. "Tomorrow. Make sure she isn't late."
Dean walked out to the car where she was waiting. He managed to put on a fake smile so she wouldn't catch on to what was wrong. He kept quiet with the whole thing the entire evening and most of next day. He ordered room servive for lunch, and waited with opening the toxic subject until after they had eaten.
"Luke knows," he said.
"Knows what?" She asked.
"About your past. He has pictures from the escort service you used to work with," he answered.
"How did he get those?" She asked.
"How the fuck should I know?" He felt angry. "He's got them, and he's gonna show them to everyone unless..."
He looked at her, hoping she could fill in the blanks on her own.
"Unless what?" She asked.
"Unless you go to his room at 3," he answered.
"And do what exactly?" She asked.
"You know," he sighed.
"I wanna hear you say it," she said.
"He wants to fuck you!" He yelled.
He jumped up from the bed and started pacing the floor. She watched him for ten long seconds until he finally spoke again.
"Would it really be that bad?" He asked.
"Excuse me?" She raised her voice.
"You've done it before, and it's only gonna be this once. He'll delete the pictures afterwards, and no one will ever see them," he said.
"Do you seriously want me to go to his room and fuck him?" She asked.
"Come on, Mackenzie, just this once. I'm thinking about you here. Everyone will see those pictures if you don't," he said.
He looked at her with pleading eyes. For a few seconds she stared back, and then stood up too.
"Get out," she said.
"What?" he asked.
"I have a customer to get ready for, and I don't want you in here while I'm transforming myself into a common whore!" She growled. "Get the fuck out!"
"I'll see you tonight after the show," he said.
He walked over to kiss her, but she dodged him and walked into the bathroom. She slammed the door with force and waited to hear him leave the room. Once she heard the door close behind him, she finally broke out in tears.
The hours had gone by so slow, and he had pictured every possible sex position with her and Luke. The show finally started, and he and Roman were opening. He pushed his feelings aside and did his job flawlessly. Afterwards he walked to the locker room and looked at his phone. She hadn't reached out to him at all.
"Are you okay?" He texted her.
He took a shower and got dressed while checking his phone constantly. She didn't answer. Afterwards him and Roman walked out of the locker room when he spotted Luke and Karl further down.
"Just a second," he said.
He sprinted down to the two men and stopped in front of Luke. He didn't say anything, but his eyes screamed of the one question he didn't dare asking.
"She never showed up," Luke said,
"What?" Dean asked surprised.
"A shame," Luke said.
He walked away and left Karl standing there awkwardly.
"He told me," Karl finally said. "When we met up to go here tonight. I made him delete the pictures."
"She didn't show up," Dean mumbled.
"Luke never wanted to fuck her, Dean. He just wanted to hurt you, and you allowed him to do it," Karl said.
Dean took out his phone and tried calling her. It went straight to voicemail.
"Roman!" He sprinted back towards his friend. "We need to get to the hotel now!"
He had explained in the car what had happened, and then taken a tongue lashing unlike any other from Roman. His friend was pissed off that Dean had asked his girlfriend to do that. They had both hurried up to Dean's room. Only Dean's things were there. She had left.
"No, no, no!" Dean cried.
"Can you really blame her?" Roman said.
"I need to see her," Dean started packing.
"Don't leave without me. I'm gonna go pack my things too," Roman said.
She had a lot of hours headstart, and Dean was certain she was already home. She had probably packed her things the second he left the hotel room, and then taken a flight home. He had messed up way more than any time before. He wasn't sure if he could fix it, but he had to try. He drove straight to her apartment complex and parked in front.
"I'm going with you," Roman said.
"Why?" Dean asked.
"To keep you fucking grounded. You're gonna stay outside her door unless she invites you in. You're gonna listen, and you're gonna do what she wants, no matter what it might be," Roman said.
He nodded and then walked up the stairs with Roman right behind him. He knocked on her door and was actually surprised when she opened. She crossed her arms and stared at him.
"Mackenzie," he took a step forward.
"Stay right there!" She snapped.
Roman placed a hand on his shoulder, and Dean stood still. He swallowed hard and looked at her again.
"I'm sorry," he said as tears ran down his cheeks. "I messed up. I did the only thing I could think of to protect you."
"You didn't do it to protect me. You did it to protect you. You don't want anybody to know that your girlfriend used to be a prostitute. You're embarrassed by me," she said.
He didn't know what to say. She was half way right. He wasn't embarrassed by her, but it was true that he was trying to protect himself and his career too. If word got out that he was dating a former prostitute, the press would have a field day with it.
"Please," he spoke again. "I messed up. Give me a chance to correct my mistake."
"Correct your mistake?" She snorted. "Dean, you don't get it. You can date a prostitute, but you can't prostitute your girlfriend. The second you crossed that line, you went from boyfriend to pimp. You're worse than all those costumers I used to serve. At least they were honest and knew what they wanted. You were hiding behind your charm and the whole good guy act."
"I love you!" He sobbed loudly.
"I suggest you figure out how to stop," she said.
She started closing the door, but he stopped her by catching the door with his hand.
"Please!" He begged.
"Let go," Roman grabbed his wrist. "Dean, let go right now!"
Dean held on to the door for another second and then let go. Roman looked at her and gave her a weak smile.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"So am I," she said.
"I'll make sure he won't bother you at work," he said.
"No need. I took care of it. I called the school, and I can get my old job back," she said. "You're a good man, Roman. Stay that way."
She closed the door and locked it. Dean turned around, wrapped his arms around Roman, and sobbed down in his friend's shirt.
"What did I do, Roman? What did I do?" He cried.
"You messed up," Roman said.
"Help me fix it. Tell me how I can fix it," Dean pleaded.
"You can't," Roman sighed. "You gotta let her go."