Page 77 of Beg Me

He groans, as if this conversation is the most grating thing in his life—like I’m calling him to waste his time. A long sigh slips through the line as I turn toward the park.

With every second that passes, the more annoyed I get at my brother. It’s moments like this that I can’t believe he shares any DNA with Mira and me.

“Okay, what are you talking about?” he asks.

I huff a breath. “Your tax bill came to my house. What do you want me to do with it?”

“Just mail it to me.”

If he would’ve said please, or at least pretended to be polite, I would’ve done it and moved on.

All of a sudden, I’m so over Miles. I’m good to him—way better than he is to our sister or me. He treats both of us like we exist to make his life easier, and I’m over it.

“Why did it get sent to me?” I ask. “Do you know?”

“Yeah. I had it sent to you. I didn’t want it going to the rental.”

“So … why didn’t you just have it sent to you?”

He blows out a breath. “Because it’s easier for you to run to the courthouse and pay for it than for me to get the fucking invoice and write a check. I’m not paying the online fees to process it virtually either. That’s bullshit. I don’t know why that hillbillly town can’t just modernize and do things like the rest of the world. But since you’re all fucked up over it, just mail it to me.”

“No. You wanna know what’s bullshit?” I ask, my blood pressure rising. “It’s you thinking that I somehow owe you my time. I do things for you because you’re my brother, and you can’t even say thanks. You can’t call to say hi. You just use me like your errand girl, and I’m tired of it, Miles.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’ll pay you back.”

He’ll pay me back? I have never asked for, or needed, Miles’s money. I’ve never even asked him to repay me for things that I’ve spent out of pocket for his house because we’re family. But I can see now that I might be the only one out of the two of us who thinks that way.

“This has nothing to do with money.” My jaw hangs open as I try to decide if he’s really this dense or if he’s just rude. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll put this in an envelope and send it to you. But you better call the treasurer or assessor or whoever it is and change the address.”

I pull into the park, spotting Jory’s vehicle, and slide in next to it. He grins from the fence as he sees me and comes my way. On any other occasion, I’d absorb that smile and wait for him to get to me, anticipating how he’ll pull me into his arms.

But I’m too pissed for that now.

“Why are you being such a bitch about this?” Miles asks.

I recoil in my seat. “Excuse me?”

“This isn’t a big deal.”

“For you. I …” I stop myself from trying to explain it. He either can’t understand or won’t, but neither is my problem. “I gotta go.”

“You called me, interrupted my time, and now you gotta go when I call you out on your bullshit?”

Oh, hell no. Jory opens my door, and I step out, avoiding his gaze and putting distance between us.

“You’re calling me out on my bullshit?” I ask, laughing angrily. “You need a reality check.” Jory steps beside me, his brows pinched together. “I’m at the courts. Change your address.”

“Oh, that’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Amusement colors his tone. “I’m sorry. Jory’s there beside you, huh? You’re trying to show off. I get it.”

My eyes widen as my pulse pounds so hard that I can feel it behind my eyes. “No, that’s not what’s happening. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jory bristles as he studies my face, trying to put the pieces of what’s happening together.

“I heard that you managed to get him to be your partner,” he says, scoffing. “But, really, Markie? Did you have to do that?”

I should hang up. There’s no way this conversation will end well, and the longer it goes on, the yuckier it gets. Especially considering that the accusation in his tone is bait.

“You are so out of line right now,” I say, my voice shaking with fury.