Page 137 of Craving Consequences

“Think so?”

I could kill him, I think through the red haze of rage consuming all other thought. I could bury his body under the foundation of my next project and layer him in concrete. No one would ever find him.

“I know so,” I counter.

Bron chuckles. “I think you’re underestimating just how much I despise you and your dick of a friend, and that bitch. Almost as much as I hate that dumb cunt Lauren, but destroying all three of you simultaneously would make my life bliss.”

“You’re forgetting something,” I lean in until my nose nearly bumps his, “there is nothing I won’t do to protect Everly. Unlike you, I won’t ever let anything hurt her, or Van. They mean more to me than you do.”

His scoff is a brittle crackling of ice. “You think I’m surprised?”

“I don’t care what you are, Bron. As of this moment, you mean nothing to me. Less than nothing. You are dead to me. Take the clothes on your back, the only gift I’ll allow you, and leave my life. Don’t contact me. Don’t contact Everly. And if you do anything, if you hurt her...” I drag him up just to slam him down into the wood. “I will let Van have you.”

That hits a cord. All the smug arrogance dies, leaving behind his hatred. “Pay me.”

I blink. “What?”

With a surprisingly strong shove, he breaks my hold on him. He straightens, jerking down on the hem of his top.

“You want me out of your life for good? Pay me. I want ten grand and I want my inheritance.”

I stare at him, certain he’s lost his mind. “You only have three months to wait.”

“I want it now,” he snarls. “It’s mine.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that there isn’t much left in there. There hadn’t been much to begin with, but after paying for his training and the amount he owed Everly, he’s not getting nearly as much as he thinks.

But I don’t.

I just want him gone.

“I want the video.”

His smug arrogance returns to his face. “Yeah, sure. Money first.”

I shake my head. “Show me the video. I want to see it.”

Bron snorts. “You think I’m lying?”

“I think I don’t trust you,” I retort honestly.

With a shake of his head, he reaches into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out his phone. I watch carefully as his fingers move over the pin, memorizing it. Say nothing as he pulls open his photos folder and finds the video.

It’s a wobbly view of the front windows. The camera pans and wavers as it’s adjusted over the wet windowsill. Rain roars in the background, a soundtrack to the silent motions of me kneeling behind Everly. The candlelight dances along the sheen of sweat coating her spine. It catches in the copper strands of hair twisted in Van’s fist as he moves her mouth down over his cock. Any other time, replaying last night would have gotten me hard, but clutched in Bron’s hands, his condescending amusement a poisonous perfume, it only fuels my loathing.

“That it?”

He pauses the video with a nod. “Yup.”

Without waiting for more, I snatch the device out of his fingers and shove it into my pocket. My palm slams into the center of his sternum when he gives a shout of protest and lunges to grab it back.

There’s a good chance he might have saved the video somewhere else, but without his phone or a way to access those places, I have enough time to get someone to wipe it all clean. Problems for later.

“Did you honestly think I would let you blackmail me?” I tell him, fisting the back of his shirt and hauling him in the direction of the door. “Let you hurt Van or Everly? We’re done. Get out of my house. Out of my life. Go back to your mother.”

Bron squirms and thrashes as I haul him down the length of the stairs.

“You can’t fucking do this!” he screams, flailing against my hold.