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“Sugar, we would never—”
I closed my eyes, blocked him out. I couldn’t look at them anymore. The tears fell now. I wasn’t very good at being angry. I was more sad, usually, and that kept me from fighting. Like now. I was done. It was just like usual.
“At least Chris—the rocker ex-fiancé—didn’t take pictures. Hell, we didn’t even have sex. He used me, yeah, but only for growing his fan base. I knew what I was getting into. But this? I believed your lies. All of it.”
“I don’t like what you’re insinuating,” Micah said, his voice hard.
“I’m not insinuating,” I countered. “You said forever.” I choked on the word and started to cry.
“And we meant forever.”
I sniffed, wiped my cheeks, settled into my actress mode. It was time to fake it. To get out of here, as far away from them as I could. I took a deep breath, even formed a smile. It almost hurt to do it, but I pasted it on. I would get a damn Emmy for this role.
“Past tense. Why did you do it? Money? The pictures got you the money you needed to finish your house, right?” I glanced from Colt to Micah. “And you? What did you need, some start-up funds?” I shrugged. “I hope you got enough. I know those tabloids drive a hard bargain. You could have just asked me for it. I have enough for whatever you want to do. You didn’t even need to bare your ass to get it.”
I walked toward Matt’s truck. He’d thankfully remained silent through all this. He grabbed the strap of my bag from my shoulder, took it from me.
“That’s it? You accuse us of selling pictures of us having sex to the tabloids and then you walk away. You don’t want to find out the truth? To fight for us?” Micah asked.
I didn’t turn back. “I only fight if there’s something worth the battle.”
“It could have been you,” Colt countered. “Hiring someone to follow you, to take pictures, to end whatever fucked up relationship you had with your ex. Maybe you used us.”
Those words had me turning. The sharp bite of them. Both Micah and Colt stood there, breathing hard, their faces flushed with anger.
“Just as my sister said, I needed to get laid. I’d say we’re even, don’t you?” I gave them one last look, then ran for Matt’s truck. He was there to open the door. “Can we hurry?” I asked.
He nodded, gave the men a dark stare as he went around to the driver’s side.
He didn’t linger, but drove off before I could start to cry. I caught one last glimpse of Micah and Colt, the two men who’d stolen every ounce of trust I had left, but also my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Micah
After Matt drove away, Colt and I stood there, like idiots, staring at the settling dust.
“What the fuck just happened?” I asked, running my hand over the back of my neck.
I wore just my jeans as the woman of our dreams drove away, hating us.
“Someone posted pictures of us. Shit, they’re bad,” Colt said. Each word he bit out as if spitting nails. “We need to go after her.”
I shook my head. Every molecule in my body wanted to jump in Colt’s truck and chase her, but she wasn’t going to listen. Not now. We had to let her go.
“Fuck. No.” I explained my reasoning and he grudgingly agreed. “We know we didn’t do it, so we have to find out who did.”
“Damn straight.”
Colt walked toward the cabin, the cabin that still had Lacey’s floral scent in the air. He grabbed his phone, settled on the couch and ran his finger over it.
“It could have been that couple from the barbecue. They were insane. They’d mentioned selling that damned napkin for a hundred dollars. Maybe they wanted more.”
“Yeah, but who knew we were up at the backcountry cabin? Lacey was right. Even we didn’t know we were going there. Seriously, who could predict a fucking act of God?”
He didn’t look at me as he talked, but at his cell.
“They paint her as a slut. Two men in two days. There’s no question what we’re doing with her.”
