It’s after midnight when Brandt Remington, third of his name, enters the café. And though he’s here at my request, it’s with no small effort that I withhold my full wrath at the sight of him, this imposter, this worm, this worthless wad of gum beneath my shoe. To think that he ever uttered a single word to cause her pain, let alonetouchedher…
“Thank you for meeting me here, Brandt,” I say congenially, escorting him to a table at the front. “I’m so sorry for the short notice and the hour, but I’m on a deadline and can’t spare a moment away. Also, discretion is of the utmost importance, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Absolutely.” He smiles across the dim space as if seeing me in a whole new light. “I’m always happy to make time for an investor.”
“Care for a drink?” I pour myself a bourbon, and at his nod, one for him as well.
He takes the offered glass. Smirks at me over the rim. “Did I call it, or did I call it?”
“Call what?”
“The moment I laid eyes on you, Devlin, I knew you weren’t really interested in Violet.” He laughs. “Cute girl, pretty good lay, but not a lot going on upstairs, if you get my drift.”
“Oh, I get your drift, Brandt.”I’m about four seconds from drifting my boot up your arse and kicking my way out through your teeth…
“So tell me.” He smacks his lips, sets down the drink. “What, exactly, can my associates and I do for you and your millions?”
Another laugh.
Another urge to rip out his throat.
But that particular reward will have to wait.
After seeing Violet so upset the other night—because of the dim bulb wet-napkin bastardgloating in front of me—I knew there was no way I’d let it go. I also knew there was something not quite aboveboard about the grant application process. Violet suspected as much from the moment she entered that conference room, and their all-too-quick rejection letter was further proof.
So that night, relegated back to the café couch, I contacted Olivy, who—after making me promise she could indeed sell my severed appendages should any harm come to her sister—put her dark-web sleuthing skills to work, coming through for me in a big way.
After printing out the evidence for the judge and jury—me serving in both esteemed capacities—I called his personal cell number, also uncovered by Olivy, and requested the meeting. Millions of dollars to invest, I said. Looking for a trustworthy partner who understands how to cut through the red tape. How to get creative with the legalities. All for the greater good of lining our pockets.
Brandt didn’t even question it. Not the odd hour, not my sudden interest after mocking him at every previous interaction. Ah, well. Greed has a tendency to dull the edges of even the sharpest tacks, and as we’ve already established—quite thoroughly—Brandt is certainly not one of those.
Now, I place my dossier on the table and scoot my chair around so I’m seatedrightnext to him, so close my knees touch his thigh, so close I can smell the bourbon on his breath. Awkward as a first-time threesome, that—not knowing exactly where to look, what to touch, which tab goes into which slot.
Fuck, I love making lesser men squirm.
And squirm he does. “Wh-what’s going on here?”
I drink my drink. Drinkhisdrink. Lean in close. Smile. “One chance, Brandt.”
“Chance for… for what?”
“I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer it. If you lie to me, you’ll suffer consequences the likes of which someone of your limited mental capacity can’t evenbeginto imagine. Hence, one chance. Any questions?”
“I… I… I’m not—”
“Why was Violet’s grant application denied?”
“That’swhat this is about?” Confusion clears from his eyes, his brow furrowing. I swear the bastard almost cracks a smile, as if he’d ever get off the hook so easily with me. “She’s not up to snuff, Pierce. It’s that simple. That’s why she lost the grant.”
Oh, but Ilovewhen they test my patience.
“Wrong.” I let my true form emerge, horns twisting out of my skull, the red glow of my eyes reflecting in his dark pupils, fear paralyzing him in place. “She lost it because her jealous arsehole needle-dick ex decided, in his infinite wisdom—which wouldn’t even fill a fuckingthimbleif I tipped his head sideways and poured it out his ear—that she didn’t qualify. And why did you make this decision, the jury might ask? Because…” I flip open the dossier. Run my finger down the first page, then the next. “Ah, yes. Here it is. You’ve already awarded the grants a month ago—long before the program was even announced—to five out-of-state firms posing as local businesses on paper. Firms your institution has been financing with shell loans for years. Firms headed up by men—and I use the termveryloosely—you attended college with. Pledged a fraternity with, as a matter of fact. A fraternity which also includes… drumroll, please… Nathan Pike, reprobate realtor to bottom-feeders the world over.”
Brandt’s face turns the color of sour milk, his lip quivering, the scent of his fear nearly overpowering the scent of the booze, but I’m just getting warmed up.
“There’s also the matter of your so-called financial institution’s practice of denying business loans for legitimate businesses all over town without even reviewing their applications, adding illegal fees and rate hikes on the few businesses who get a foot in the door, closing lines of credit without cause, and generally being an abusive dickhead to your staff.”
“That’s not… this isn’t what it... Where did you get all that?”
