Page 70 of Dirty Legacy

“Fuck you. I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Tears spring into my eyes. I feel disgusting like bugs are crawling all over my skin. “Those were for you. This is so fucked up, Brad.”

“Relax! It’s five grand. You can handle it. Just bring the money to Heart and Stone, you know that bar? Meet me and Lavender there tonight and this’ll be done.”

“Fuck. I don’t have any money. I can’t even—“ I stop before I say, I can’t even leave my room.

“Don’t play around.” Brad’s voice gets serious. He sounds almost regretful. “Seriously Angie, just pay. It’s easier. Please.”

“You’re such a bastard. This is vile.”

“I know. But it’s happening. Just pay and move on. I swear, I’ll delete everything.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears well out and roll down my cheeks.

We dated for years. I thought Brad was the one. We had good times together too. We laughed, made plans, kissed and snuggled. He cooked me pancakes and I made him homemade fries. It wasn’t perfect, but I thought it might be for real.

Now he’s using me for money. Using the naked pictures I sent him. Blackmailing me.

I feel so violated and I want to get sick.

“Fine. Five thousand.” My head works in circles. I have access to my money still through my phone, and I have over six in savings. It’s everything, but I can cover this. “Swear you’re not lying.”

“I wouldn’t.” More muffled talking. “Oh, and Lavender says you should take up streaming. She says you’d be really good at it.”

“Tell Lavender she’s a disgusting bitch.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Go to hell, Brad.”

“Ten tonight. Heart and Stone, in the back. Later, Angie.”

He hangs up. I look down at the phone, numb and horrified.

How is this happening?

And how is Brad so goddamn stupid?

It’s bad enough that he’s doing some revenge porn shit, or at least threatening it.

But if I go to Connor, what’ll happen?

My husband came home covered in someone else’s blood.

There’s no way Brad will walk out of that room alive.

Which means I have to pay him. Not because he deserves it, but because there’s still a part of me that doesn’t want to see him and his piece-of-shit girlfriend get murdered.

God, am I really this twisted? I’m trying to protect my blackmailer.

It’d be easier to tell Connor. He’d make all this go away. No doubt in my mind.

But he’d do it with blood and pain.

And what’s the point of money now, anyway?

I’m wiping my face off when there’s a knock at my door. I hurriedly get myself together, only to find Rowan slipping inside. She’s wearing black sweats and a tight tank, dark eyeliner around her pretty eyes. Her bright smile fades.

“Hey, are you okay? I came to see if you wanted to have breakfast with me.”