Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“No,” Evan says. “My God, don’t you see he’s doing the same thing to you that he did to her?”
“He’s not doing anything to me,” I say, then smirk, “well, not anything I don’t enjoy.” Is it petty to throw that in his face? Yep. Do I give a fuck? Nope. Not a one.
Evan frowns, not liking that one bit. “Or that he’s made you think you like,” he corrects. “Dylan’s a control freak. He’s mentally abusive. The man’s a fucking monster, Raven. And while I should have said something to you earlier about Elise, I never—”
“Don’t go there, Evan. You’ve got absolutely no ground to stand on.”
Evan holds up a hand, begging off. “You’re right. But what I never did to you is what he did to Olivia. Dylan Sharpe blackmailed her. Why do you think she left town? Sure as hell wasn’t because she and I weren’t happy.”
That makes my fork pause, but I resume eating quickly. “Don’t believe a word you say, Evan.”
Do I think Dylan has the capacity to blackmail? Yes, absolutely. Mentally, emotionally, morally? All yes. To get ahead professionally, I think he’d do just about anything, especially back when he was coming up. He’s told me how hard it was to fight his way through, clawing and scrabbling for every lead. Do I think he would now? No. He wouldn’t let it come to that. He’s too smart, too calculating, and he sees the moves to make long before others do.
Now whether I think, even a long time ago, Dylan would’ve done anything to hurt Olivia is an entirely different question. He told me how much he loved her, how it gutted him to discover her and Evan, of all people, hooking up, and how he blamed Evan for taking everything from him. So no, I don’t think he would blackmail Olivia.
Evan, maybe, but not Olivia. Maybe…
“Look, you think I want to fucking be here?” Evan growls, pushing my hand to the table so I’ll stop eating and focus on him. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. But Olivia's not the only person Dylan Sharpe has shit on. That fucker’s got info on me, too. And he’s vindictive as can be. So I’m in a hard spot, and since you wouldn’t have shit if it wasn’t for me, I’m hoping you might find a shred of decency and help me.”
The anger and intensity in his voice give me a moment of pause. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. Desperation looks good on him, I think with a tiny hint of sick satisfaction. “You do realize the size of the grain of salt I would need to take anything you say seriously, right?”
Evan scoffs. “You don’t believe me? Ask him. He’s a shit liar,” Evan says. “It’s how I took him in poker all the time. He can’t fucking bluff. Dylan’s barely able to hold his own in his little circle jerk of buddies playing together.”
I know about Dylan’s occasional card games. He told me about them after I first went to his apartment. But I didn’t think Evan knew about them. What else does Evan know? “Still, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to help you. Evan, your entire fucking world can burn down for all I care.”
“Yeah? But here’s the thing,” Evan says, his eyes going shrewd. “If my world’s going to burn, you want it to be because you caused it. Because you think I deserve it.” He waits a second, like he thinks I might say ‘oh, no, you don’t deserve that,’ so I pointedly lick my lips and then press them closed. He smirks like he finds it amusing. “You’re still someone who believes in fairness and justice. That’s why you want me hurt. Justice.”
“Perhaps,” I admit, knowing Evan’s got me pegged to a T. Even in the backstabbing world of the Financial District, there are lines I won’t cross.
“Justice is only justice if it’s delivered at the hands of those who are worthy of dispensing it,” Evan says. “Think that over. In the meantime, listen. All I want is an old email deleted. It’s on Dylan’s personal server and has some information in there he’s lording over me. That’s all I need.”
“More dirty laundry?” I ask, and Evan shakes his head. “What is it?”
“Something that would make my family very… perturbed,” Evan finally says.
I roll my eyes and stand up. “If they’re not perturbed by you by now, I doubt anything short of—”
Evan reaches out, his hand quick as a snake, and grabs my wrist, cutting me off. “Look, he’s blackmailing me,” he hisses. “You want me to fucking burn? Fine. But at least let me fight from a fair standing against that asshole. That’s all I’m saying.”