The bet where you fucked the princess and caught it on video for proof. Compelling stuff.”
I don’t like the way he says it, like he knows something I don’t. “You got something to say, then say it. I’m not in the mood to fuck around with you today.”
“You still don’t see what’s right in front of you. Amazing.” He laughs, but it sounds neither amazed nor amused. Setting his drink down, he leans in. “Let me spell it out for you. You could have had that ten grand and complete ownership of this club weeks ago.” His eyebrows rise. “You’ve already got what I want.”
My head is shaking before he even finishes his sentence. “No.”
“A video of their sweet little princess getting grudge-fucked in her own high school is better than anything you could possibly dig up. Something tells me they’d pay a lot of money to keep that from getting out.”
“I’ll go to jail,” is what I say, but deep down, there’s a stronger argument churning in my gut. I couldn’t care less about her goddamn family. Gene can take them down all he wants. But the thought of dragging Georgia into it doesn’t feel right.
It doesn’t feel like a win.
Gene shrugs at this, offering, “We’ll blur your face.”
“No one is that stupid. It happened in my office, during my probation.” If I close my eyes, I can still vividly remember the shape of the bruises I pressed into her hips. The way she cried out when I slammed into her. The exact fan of her hair over the desk, jerking around as I fucked her. Most vividly, I can remember being unable to decide if I wanted to fuck her or kill her. I can remember it, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to feel it. “I’ll be in handcuffs again long before you see a goddamn dime.”
He spreads his arms. “No proof, though, is there? Criminal court needs evidence beyond a reasonable doubt. No judge would convict you on circumstantial bullshit like an office.”
“It’s not happening,” I snap, banging my glass onto the counter. “Drop it.”
“You want your ten grand?” he hisses, close enough that I can smell his cheap, disgusting aftershave. “That’s the only way you’re getting it.”
“I can still dig something up,” I insist, feeling it in my bones. All I need to do is wait for Collins to duck out again.
“Maybe,” Gene says, voice scornful. “Maybe not. Your choice, Wilcox.”
Long after he’s left, I sit there at the bar, staring into my drink. I don’t really have the appetite for it, but I throw it back, anyway.
I need to be drunk for what I’m about to do.
I’m not totally convinced I have his number memorized, which is the only reason I don’t hang up on the first ring. Chances are, a complete stranger will answer. I still have a way out of this.
True to the luck I’m having today, it’s him who answers.
“Sup.”
Sup? If I weren’t calling to ask a favor, I’d tell him what a fucking tool he is. It’s swimming around in my brain, kicking up a storm that makes my knuckles go white around the office’s receiver.
Yep. This is rock fucking bottom.
“It’s me,” I start, and then a rushed, “Don’t hang up.”
There’s a long pause on the other end, absent of static or shifting. The voice that answers is full of irate disbelief. “Heston?”
I’m almost the one who hangs up. Briefly, I think I’d rather go to jail than ask this asshat for a favor. My mind goes back to the hot pokers under my fingernails. That’s definitely preferable.
I gather up my balls and begin, “I need a favor.”
“You need a favor? From me?” Sebastian makes a sharp, cutting sound. “Go fuck yourself.”
“Wait!” I’ve gotten pretty good at hearing when someone’s about to hang up. “If you do this one simple thing for me, I’ll never bother you again.”
“You’re not bothering me now,” he volleys back, voice growing angrier. “Go ahead and threaten me, you prick. I fucking dare you. I’ll drive my ass down there and—”
“I’m not going to threaten you,” I growl, knowing it’d be easier if I could. But I’ve got nothing over this kid anymore. “I just want you to do it because I’m asking.” Any other person could throw out some trite bullshit about brothers sticking together, being blood.
Sebastian laughs. “Are you on drugs now? Because you must be out of your goddamn mind if you think—”
I barrel over him. “I need