Page 98 of The Triple Play

He looked up at me, his hood tipping back just enough to get a good look at his face, his glasses, the hint of buzzed hair showing. My annoyance immediately turned into gut-twisting disgust.

“What thefuck?” I hissed.

The little camera came up between us, and Elliot’s finger pushed in on the button, the flash going off in my face. I ripped it from his hand with my free one and tossed it as hard as I could to my right, watching as it soared, bounced on the grass, and rolled straight into the man-made lake.

He snorted.

“The pictures go straight to my phone,” he said, his head tipping back on the wooden face. “So, congrats, Colton, you destroyed my camera for no good reason.”

I wasn’t above reaching into the pocket of his basketball shorts for his phone.

“Backed up to the cloud. It’ll be kind of hard to break something you can’t get your hands on?—”

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, pushing my forearm into him harder. “Are you seriously this fucking insane, man?”

He shrugged beneath my hold. “I’m helping.”

“Helping?” I laughed, but the sound was hollow, angry. “Helpingwho? Annie? You’re off your goddamn rocker if you think you’re helping her.”

“I’m helping her get her fucking life back,” he spat, his nostrils flaring, his lips curling back. “You think knocking her up and derailing her entire world is a good thing? You think taking her away from stability is apositive? I bet you don’t even know whose kid itis, for all you know it could be mine?—”

I saw red. Dark, crimson red, and I wanted to paint with it. “It’smyfucking kid,” I snarled, pulling him away from the fence so I could slam him back into it, the wood splintering beneath him. He grunted from the impact, his Adam’s apple working on a rough swallow.

“You believe her?” he laughed, a little breathless.

Of course I did. I didn’t need proof, even though we had it — Cole went with her to her first scan last week after winning rock, paper, scissors. Eleven weeks now. It lined up. But I didn’t need to prove it to him. “How do you know she’s pregnant?” I asked, the realization hitting me quickly. She hadn’t talked to Elliot — at least, if she had, she hadn’t told us.

“Her dad told me.”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “You talk to her father?”

“You think I’m doing this just for her and myself?” He snorted. “Nah, I’m getting a pretty penny out of it.”

“You’re insane,” I breathed.

“I’ve got other pictures, you know,” he smirked, and I pushed harder on his chest, tempted to let myself feel his ribs break beneath them. “You guys are shockingly bad at remembering to close your blinds when you’re at home. Could take them to the press.”

“Colton!”

I didn’t turn at the shout of my name. I could hear the Escalade idling, could hear Cole’s voice, the slamming of a car door, the frantic footfall. But all I could think about was what Elliot had said.

You guys are shockingly bad at remembering to close your blinds when you’re at home.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

“Why?” I pushed into his chest a little harder. “Why?”

“Because I care about her and want her to see sense,” he hissed. “So if it takes me going public with it to fuck over your situation and get her out of it, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” A hand, Cole’s hand, cut into view, grasping the top of Elliot’s hood and pulling him to the side, out of my grasp and onto the grass. “Have you not learned yet?”

“Cole, don’t,” I said, my voice like gravel. “Don’t hurt him. He’ll just sue.”

“He’llsue? With what money, his book royalties?” Cole put his shoe dead in the center of Elliot’s chest, holding him down.

“He’s working with Annie’s dad.”

“Fuck.”

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