Page 86 of Never Been Worse

“What do you want, Jeremy?” I ask with a bored tone. He shifts with my words, not expecting this version of me, the one who doesn’t back down, who is tired of being used.

“I want you to call off your dogs,” he says quickly. “Your fake little rock star is looking into shit he shouldn’t be looking into, and I want him to stop.”

“What are you so afraid he’s going to find?” I ask, intrigued, and watch as the mask of joviality and faux friendship melts off his face. “You have nothing to hide, right?”

“Nothing, of course,” he says with a laugh. He forgets, I think, how long we were together and the way I am well-tuned to the way he laughs when he lies. “But I don’t like the idea of him looking into me. What you should be afraid of is me telling the world that Riggins Greene is back on the bottle and in rehab again, which is why they really needed to delay the tour.”

“That’s not—” I start with a shake of my head, but he steamrolls past me.

“I wonder how the stress of that will go for Stella and her pregnancy? All the paparazzi hounding her, asking her about her husband, digging up old wounds. You know, I’m sure there’s something she doesn’t know from when they were apart, some bitch he fucked, some charge he paid off,” he says, and my pulse starts racing. “Or you know, someone could just plant something. It doesn’t really matter if it’s true or not these days, as you know.”

“You can’t just lie, Jeremy. It impacts people. People who have nothing to do with you,” I say. “Leave them out of your shit.” Although I’m mad and nervous, I try to remind myself Stella and Riggins are about to announce their pregnancy anyway, and with her belly just barely showing now, they even took professional photos to share. It would discredit whatever Jeremy plans to spread.

“What about Ava and Jules?” he asks.

“What?” I ask, my words faint.

“I have a friend down at the Evergreen Police Department. He’s been creating a file for me. Criminal harassment and stalking?—”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “We already handled this, Jeremy. You can’t?—”

“The card that went viral? And the wrapping of my car?” I close my eyes and breathe in deep, fighting the nausea that takes over. I knewwe shouldn’t have done that. I knew I should have left it alone, buried it, that somehow, like all the good things in my life, it would lead to disaster.

I gave him ammunition to destroy me again.

But then again, although I’d convinced myself otherwise, a small part of me had a feeling that if Jeremy knew I was designing, I don’t know if he ever would have stopped his blackmailing.

Suddenly, I realize being free of him was all an illusion: he is planning to keep me under his thumb forever. As soon as he saw I had talent and also a weakness—loving my friends and being willing to do anything to protect them—I gave up any power I had.

“You can’t prove it was me,” I whisper, not so sure about that. “And you definitely can’t prove it was them because they weren’t even a part of any of that.”

He shakes his head with the same smug smile still plastered to his face.

“That doesn’t really matter, not when you have friends in high places the way I do, not when there is documented history. As seems to be your way, you just pissed off one too many people while rampaging through their lives, and now you’re going to take them down with you.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “What do you want?”

The entertained look drops from his face, shifting to something mean and angry as he leans in. “Drop the investigator and give me what you’re working on. I want the piece you left out the first time.” Fine. If that’s what I have to do, whatever, I can make more. I can— “And get a divorce from Holden. He knows too much, and he’s digging into things he shouldn’t.”

My mouth drops open, and I shake my head frantically. “No,” I whisper. “I won’t do that.”

He leans back in his chair and gives me a pitying look. “Aww, did you get a little too attached to him, Harper? You never were very good at separating business and pleasure, were you?” I bite back a response, knowing the faster I get out of here, the better. “Do it, Harper. Either you agree to my terms, or I’ll alert the press today.”

I shake my head again, knowing even if Iwantedto, it wouldn’t be that easy.

“He’s not going to just accept my breaking up with him, Jeremy,” I say, my pulse racing, my head going light with panic. “What am I supposed to say? We have an agreement in place.”

Maybe the basics will convince him. If Jeremy knows about the fake marriage, he must know there’s a contract in place.

“Find a way.”

“Jeremy, how am I supposed to do that? You don’t understand, he’s not going to just…” I trail off because I don’t want or need him to know just howrealthings have gotten with Wes. I don’t need another person on his radar to destroy.

“That’s your problem, Harper. Make something up. Tell him you’re tired of him, tell him you want out, tell him you hate him. I don’t know, and honestly, Harper, I don’t care. I want this fucker off my ass, and I want to erase all of this bullshit.” The room starts to spin as I face the reality of the mess I’m in, but some other part of me, the one who wants to somehow salvage everything, to protect the people I love, kicks in and nods.

“How long do I have?” I whisper, praying for just one more night with Wes. Just one where I can savor him and love him before it all falls apart.

A wicked smile spreads on his lips, and I know my desperate plea will go unanswered.

---