Page 65 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

Of course it’s peppermint tea.

Eden sips her own cup next to me, patiently waiting. She’s good at that, knowing when to talk and when to let the other person pick their time. Her silent support envelopes me like bubble wrap, and I know she won’t judge me when she hears the truth.

So I tell her. Everything.

“When I was sixteen, somebody started an anonymous gossip blog about locals in Toronto. It was snarky, irreverent, a little judgmental. It sounded a lot like my own journals, actually. I read all the entries obsessively, even though they weren’t about anyone I knew. It was all businessmen, heiresses, and athletes. People in their 20s and 30s living fascinating, dramatic lives I couldn’t even imagine.

“The blog got popular, and after a while, the publisher started going by a name. ‘The Earl.’ There were Reddit forums trying to figure out who it was, but nobody even got close. At least, not that I know of. When the Earl posted inviting more contributors to submit, I knew immediately that I wanted to do it. But I didn’t know anyone interesting enough to be in the Tea except for…”

“Luke,” Eden says when I trail off, and I nod.

“Yes. Luke was in college then, even though he was spending more time getting Twisted Devil off the ground than he ever spent going to class. He still found time to sleep around a lot, though.”

“I remember.” Eden nods. “You used to tell me about it.”

“One day, when Luke was over for dinner, some random girl showed up. Ryan was there, too, because he somehow shows up whenever Mom makes pork chops. Anyway, the girl screamed at Luke for not answering any of her texts, he screamed at her for tracking down his family’s home address and interrupting dinner with his parents. Ryan filmed the whole thing. I’m not super proud of the next part, but…I stole Ryan’s phone and sent the video to myself.”

Eden’s eyes widen. “How did you get into his phone?”

“It’s Ryan. He’s not exactly secretive when he enters his passcode. So I took the video and I wrote up a sample post and I sent it to The Earl. He sent a really nice reply, complementing me on my writing by telling me that Luke just wasn’t well-known enough to post about. That might have been the end of it, but a month later, Luke launched Twisted Devil. With Nate funding the publicity, the brand took off, and I got another email from The Earl. He wanted to publish my article, and he wanted me to write more.”

“Wasn’t Ryan suspicious of how the Tea got the video?”

“No. He assumed he got hacked. Ryan was getting more famous at the time, too, with his poker career taking off. Everyone’s profile was rising, and suddenly, people wanted to know about the guys. So I kept writing. I snooped around, I sent anonymous messages to any woman they were spotted with, and once I got big enough, people started sending me tips. My profile rose, too—well, not mine. Peppermint’s. The anonymous name I wrote under.

“I published a lot of personal information about the guys. I didn’t care if it was invasive or gross, or even if it was true. The more I wrote, the more addicted I was to the attention that Peppermint got. All the comments, questions, and tips were just proof that I had something to say that people wanted to listen to. When I was Peppermint, I felt…seen.”

“Did any part of you feel guilty?” Eden asks, her head cocked slightly to the side. Not judging—curious.

“A little,” I admit. “But it was nothing compared to how powerful I felt. I controlled the narrative. I could share whatever secrets I wanted. I could finally take revenge on my brother and his shitty friends for the way they had treated me.”

“It felt fair.” She doesn’t say it was fair, because we both know it wasn’t. Luke read my most vulnerable secrets out loud in front of a crowd, but not online, where the whole world could read them. He betrayed me, but on a smaller scale, and he didn’t hide behind a fake identity when he did it.

“It felt fair,” I echo. “I got a little more discerning once I was older, and once I had a more nuanced understanding of the world. I should have known better than to publish an interview with one of Luke’s sexual partners, outing all his kinks. I went too far, and I’m lucky that it took this long for that interview to go viral. It could have blown up in my face way earlier.”

“You wrote about Beau, too.”

I take a long sip of my tea. “Yes. I blamed him just as much as I blamed the others. He deserved it, I thought. Once I started seeing him, though, I stopped writing about him, except when I planted fake stories to throw people off track.”

“Did you tell him it was you?”

“No.” I twist a strand of hair tightly around one finger. “He found out, though. He told me tonight.”

Eden gasps. “Was he furious?”

“No. He was…” I frown. “He told me he understood why I did it. And, well…I kind of freaked out, because Beau and I never talk about the Never Have I Ever thing. It’s one of those things we just pretend never happened.”

She nods slowly, processing. “I understand why you did it, too. I know what those boys took from you—your faith in love, in the world. I’m not going to sit here and pretend you didn’t have a good damn reason to write what you did. But…”

There’s always a but. I brace myself for mine.

“You wrote about Pippa’s dating life, Brin. You wrote about Cat and Nate. About Maura’s marriage.”

I bite my lip and look down at my hands. “I know.”

“These are your friends. They didn’t do this to you. The guys did. And you dragged the women into it anyway.”

“I didn’t write about the women. I just wrote the truth about what the guys did—I never lied. I didn’t mean for Cat and Pippa and Maura to get caught in the crossfire.”