Bastards and Scapegoats (Twisted Legacy Duet #1) - CoraLee June Page 0,88

far up his ass to help you, I’ll drive you to wherever your mother is, okay? I’ll park right here and wait for you. I already called off of work.”

I was speechless. “Really?” I asked.

She waved her hand. “Don’t get all emotional. I like you. Infinity likes you. Sometimes I wonder if you have anyone looking after you. I guess I’m just trying to say that you aren’t alone.”

“Thank you,” I replied before swallowing the emotion crawling up my throat, and shut the door. As promised, Jess moved to park on the street, and I watched as she pulled out her cell and started mindlessly scrolling, waiting for me.

The guards let me in after I showed them my ID. I was thankful that Jack still had me on the approved guest list. I wasn’t sure how much longer he would allow that. Especially after last night. Between the faked pregnancy, my involvement with Hamilton, and Joseph’s abusive ways, it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan.

Following Jess’s instructions, I walked around to the back of the house and found the trail she spoke of. Trees lined either side of me as the eeriness of the quiet woods made my steps cautious, my heart a pounding, rebellious monster in my chest. Each shadow looming over me felt like it held secrets. Each step made my skin chill. Every muscle, bone, and tendon in my body was still and on full alert. Something was wrong. I felt like I was on the edge of something major, but I didn’t know what.

“You’re a joke. I’m willing to pay premium—” Hamilton’s voice carried through the air, though it sounded far away and dulled by the wind and surrounding trees.

“You backed out of our last deal. It was supposed to be easy. One picture with you and Vera. Now you’re asking for more when you haven’t paid up.”

The blood in my veins turned to ice. What? Who was he speaking with?

Leaves crunched under my boots as I walked closer. “Saint, I told you. I want Vera out of this. I have a good story that will ruin my brother.”

Saint? No. No.

“Nothing will ruin your brother! You gave me the faked pregnancy scandal, and Jack had it shut down in minutes. I’m blacklisted from most publications, and the ones I am allowed to work with aren’t reliable, trustworthy, or meaningful enough to make a difference. There’s no merit in trash.”

“He’s beating his wife,” Hamilton growled.

“Not to sound heartless, but people won’t give a shit unless you have proof. A video. Pictures of it happening. No one ever believes the victim when the monster is a man in a position of power. It takes concrete evidence, and even then, you still have to smack people upside the head with it. It won’t do anything. I’m in fucking hiding now because approaching Vera put me on the radar.”

“Yeah, well your theatrics are to blame for that,” Hamilton replied, his tone sarcastic. I pressed on, hiding behind the large trunk of a tree while peering at them. Hamilton was wearing the same outfit as last night, and Saint was sitting at the base of a large tree, picking at his nails.

“Look. I’m glad you got the story on the faked pregnancy. Only you could weasel information out of a bridesmaid while fucking her. You must have a magic dick, because she spilled everything. Honestly, that story probably saved what little of a career I have left. I can’t believe Lilah Beauregard went to such lengths to fake a pregnancy. Maybe she deserves a shitty husband. I’m a firm believer in karma.”

Hamilton kicked Saint in the shin and growled. “No one deserves Joseph’s cruelty. Even Vera’s shitty mother.”

Saint groaned and rubbed the spot on his leg where Hamilton kicked him, while peering up at Hamilton with a scowl on his thin face. “I’m just saying. You wanted a scandal. You fucked your niece—numerous times—for the cause. I could have had that taboo treat on the cover of at least a few publications, but you vetoed it. It wouldn’t have ruined the Beauregard name completely, but it would have at least made your family look bad. We tried. Unless you’re willing to pull out the big guns or take down Joseph yourself through illegal means—which is still an option—there isn’t much I can do anymore. My reputation as a journalist is in the toilet. I don’t blame you, Hamilton. You’re my brother, man. I’m here for you.