Page 13 of Brutal Lies


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Chapter 8

Pierce

“Shut the door.” I glare at Justin as he strolls into Getz’s office late. “I don’t want anyone walking in here while we’re talking.”

“Talking or arguing?” quips Justin, slumping down on the couch next to Bryce. I sit down in a wood chair next to Wyatt, who won’t look at anything but the floor.

It’s only the four of us meeting today, including Getz. The other girl dropped out of the club a month ago, and Astrid isn’t invited to our emergency meeting of the Investors Club. I refuse to take on the brunt of this shitstorm alone. Astrid has continued with her own club, and Ted Leister wants to change ours into a deranged sex dungeon, and then we’re all accountable. I’m not taking the blame alone. Or we can do the smart thing and stop it from happening.

“I talked to Astrid,” Bryce taps on his phone. “I’m straightening her out.”

I’m not talking to the top of his fucking head. I shove his foot with mine, and he looks up, glaring at me. “Is she shutting it down?”

His lips quirk, and instantly I know the answer is no. He hasn’t done shit. “I’m straightening it out. And don’t do that again.”

“You’re fucking her is what you’re doing,” I sneer back at him, not bothering with subtle talk. “She gave you head to shut you up.”

Bryce stands up as if he can intimidate me. The room’s so small he’s across it with one step. I hold back a laugh. One plowing punch in his pretty-boy nose, and he’ll be sprawled out on the rug, screaming for a plastic surgeon.

“Boys, let’s not do this here.” Getz holds out his hand as he stands from his desk. A bead of perspiration shines on his upper lip. We haven’t even gotten started, and the wuss is sweating it.

Bryce shoves my shoulder, and I’m on my feet. “I said I am straightening it out,” he hisses.

“Sit your asses down.” Wyatt stands up, challenging us both. He slips in between the tight space between us and pushes us apart. “We’re not here to have a who can be the biggest dick contest. We have to discuss business. This shit has gotten out of hand.”

“Did you know she was pulling this?” Bryce speaks calmly as he gazes at Wyatt. We all watch him, waiting for his body language to answer for him. His shoulders slump down, and along with it, the tension in the tiny room.

Wyatt hesitates. “I didn’t, but I knew that the Monarchs were sick of us. We fucked up their system by getting greedy.”

“What system?” Bryce takes a step toward Wyatt. “They had no system until we set it up. What did you really do, Wyatt? Did you turn a blind eye? You always fuck up, you traitor.”

Wyatt moves toward Bryce, but this time, I step between them. The room is really too tight for the three of us to get into each other’s faces. “Back off, gentlemen,” I say sternly. “We are here to discuss our future at Stonehaven, which will be screwed if this gets out. We can kick ass later. Right now, we have a real problem. We’ve lost our control.”

Bryce and Wyatt sit back down quietly, and I do the same. Neither one likes to hear that we’ve lost control, and I didn’t like saying it. Losing control is not something we take lightly. It’s something we’ve shared since our first class at Stonehaven. From the start, it was apparent that we had everything the other students lacked—money, looks, status. Putting it all together made us impossible to beat, and we happily split the spoils of the school until some girl came along. But we never let go of things with real value, and the Pit had value until we fucked it up.

I place my gaze on Justin. “Your pussy-chasing dad wants to turn the place into a fuck shop.”

Silently Justin just sits there and glares at me like his ass is stuck to Velcro. No freaking balls. I can respect Wyatt and even Bryce, but Justin will curl into a ball if you even mention a fight. He knows what his father is—a sexual deviant who has no business being near decent people.

I cannot believe that Astrid picked Justin over all of us. He probably pulled some girly shit and talked about his feelings because he’s a sensitive artist. Waa, waa. He’s a fucking pervert who can draw, is what he is. When I crack my knuckles, Justin’s eyebrows lift in alarm, and his gaze never leaves my flexing hands.

Bryce shoves Justin in the shoulder. “Your dad is going to drag us all into an impossible situation.” He points a finger at Getz. “And that includes you.”

Getz’s eyes bulge from his ashen face. “I had nothing to do with this.”

We moan in unison at his thin lie. He was there the day Bryce came into the office bragging about this place where people fought like in that movie. Getz brainstormed along with us. Now, he sits, turning every shade of pale as he realizes he’s also fucked.

“You owe us money, Getz.” I turn on him like a dog fighting for a bone. “You want your name erased from the books, then pay it off.”

He shakes as he sinks further down in his chair. “Right now, I’m short of funds, but I’ll have it shortly. I have an IRA I can cash.”

Bryce rolls his eyes as Justin sucks his teeth. No one believes his shit because it stinks. I shake my head and go at Getz again. “Until you pay up, you work for us. Do you understand? You’re going to work off that debt. You will do as I say, and if that means getting some dirt on your pudgy hands, you will.”

He lifts his chin and stares at me in horror. The thought of being my underling must have woken up his manhood. “I’m loaning you my office,” he replies, “I’m acting as your advisor. There isn’t much else I can do for you. Or should do.”

Wyatt laughs without humor. “I would start writing that press release for the day when we finally get caught.” Wyatt leans back in his chair, leveling his gaze at a jittery Getz. “I’m surprised Rawlins hasn’t dragged us into her office yet.”

“Why would she?” asks Justin. He looks like he just woke up with those wide eyes.

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