Page 89 of The Revenge Agenda

“Wait.” Rush turns to me. “You were renting in Portland, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“And you had good records?”

“Yeah. Paid on time each month, lived alone, no parties or pets.”

Rush turns back to Rylan. “What if Hunter gives you the number for whoever managed his last rental? Could you go back to your friends and tell them it’s all bullshit and pass along the number?”

“No.” While I fucking love that he’s suggesting it, I don’t want to put Rylan in that kind of position. “I don’t want to be pushy about this.”

“Well, I don’t think we have much choice here,” Rush points out. “Ian is being pushy first, and since everyone is so intent on believing him?—”

“It’s not that,” Rylan says. “There’s an excess of tenants at the moment. Plenty of them with really good histories, and I’m sorry because I know it sucks to hear, but in a choice between someone squeaky-clean and someone rumored to have a bad rental history … well, which would you choose?”

“I’d choose Hunter,” Rush says. He’s so fucking loyal.

I take his hand, not bothering to let it go when our food arrives. I know he wants to keep pushing, but Rylan and I steer the conversation into easier waters. I’m trying not to act as fucked as I am, but it’s hit the point where I can’t think of a way forward.

If I didn’t have Rush so squarely on my side, I probably would have given up by now.

Do I put my common sense aside and move in with him? Head back to Portland and do the long-distance thing again? Neither of those options is great, especially after what happened the last time I left a man alone for too long.

God, I should have hit him twice.

Once for me and once for Rush. I don’t understand how one person can be that morally bankrupt. He already fucked my life over once, and now that I’m not in his control anymore, he’s getting to me another way.

I desperately don’t want him to win, but he’s fighting with an army from higher ground, and I’m standing here with a one-shot pistol.

It would be so easy to give in, but then I glance over at Rush, at his sweet, unassuming face, and I’m swallowed by a rightness I’ve never felt before.

Everything from his frantically bouncing knees to the way his eyes dart around the restaurant to his conversation tangents. He makes me want to be better. Stronger. To stand my fucking ground.

There has to be a way.

Chapter 26

Rush

P.L. Ant is taunting me. After Hunter’s latest note, I need to think of something cute and witty and not totally unhinged. Telling him I’m a deviANT for his dick feels more like second-date territory, though given we’ve had sex twice now, does that put us at third-date level? Or more like fifth? Is there a special category for men who are your ex-boyfriend’s ex-fiancé and now currently your boss, who you made out with for revenge and then accidentally fell into bed with?

Probably not.

This lack of social structure sucks.

I shift in my seat, reading my screen and reading it again. The words make sense, but it’s the doing of the things that’s the hard part. I know what I have to do. I just … can’t.

I crack my knuckles, reveling in each pop, but it’s not enough, not grounding enough.

Eloise’s face suddenly appears over the partition. “I’m on a call.”

“Okay. Then why are you talking to me?”

She gives me her most patient Mom-smile. “Think you could grab me a coffee? I’m out.”

“Yeah, of course.” I jump out of my seat, accidentally sending it flinging back, but it doesn’t hit anyone, so I call that a win. Maybe once I’ve been to the kitchen, made us both a coffee, and then come back, I’ll be able to get my head into it.

There are a few people in the kitchen, most I at least recognize, and I throw out some hellos while I wait for the coffee machine. The microwave next to it has been left open a crack, and when I move closer, I work out why. The smell of something burned is wafting out. If I had to make a guess on who’s the culprit, my only one is Taylor, Ted’s assistant. She’s even more distracted than I am, but hers comes from having a billion and one things to do every day. I can’t imagine having a workload like hers, and the least someone can do is clean up some of the hurricane she leaves behind.

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