Page 49 of Corrupt Me

How many? How long? How had I never found out? How did I have no clue?

He kept his eyes averted.

My simmering outrage became a ring of fire, burning through my blood. “Tristan, look at me.”

He did, but I almost wished he hadn’t. Coldness gleamed from the depths of his eyes. “You don’t want the truth, Ever.”

Not Shortcake as he’d been so fond of calling me these last weeks but Ever. He used my name, and it gave me a sinking feeling in my chest. My fingers balled into fits at my sides. “How many times?”

Tristan shrugged, leaning on the desk opposite his bed.

“Last year?” I prompted, searching for a timeline.

He knew what I was asking. Had Preston been sleeping around on me during the darkest time in my life? When things had been so bad at home? When I needed Preston the most?

Silence.

Tristan’s piercing eyes just held mine.

I shook my head, stiffening my lip from trembling as it wanted to do. I refused to cry. “I can’t believe him. That two-timing prick,” I muttered more to myself. Had I really wasted years of my life on Preston? It was difficult to not look at the past. Sure, I’d finally broke things off with him, but if it hadn’t been for Tristan, would I still be with his brother? Oblivious to Preston’s cheating ways? “Why do you have those photos, Tristan? Why did you have your brother followed?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I have my reasons.”

My foot yearned to kick him. Anywhere would do as long as it hurt. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

The asshole remained tight-lipped.

“Do you have photos of the others?” I asked, trying again.

Nothing.

I started to wish our families weren’t intertwined with years of friendship. It would make hating them so much easier. “Fuck you. Fuck you both.”

My eyes burning, I shoved off the wall and stormed to the door, ripping it open. I walked into the hall, slamming his door behind me with a satisfying echo that rang through the building.

I stomped to my room where Sam already waited for me. Her troubled eyes lifted as I flung the door shut behind me, the second crash within thirty seconds.

Her eyes jumped at the sound, the walls shaking. “I take it things didn’t go well?”

I held out my hand. “I need your keys.”

She rolled to a sitting position on the bed. My room didn’t have a lot of seat options. It was either the bed, the desk, or the floor. Sam had chosen the comfiest of the three. “Okay, what happened?”

“Keys?” I demanded, holding out my hand.

Her bag lounged at the foot of the bed, but she didn’t reach for it. Instead, she continued to eye me. “Where are you going?”

“I need to talk to Preston. I’m ending this once and for all,” I stated, my body rigid.

A measure of confusion moved into her features. “Back up. How did we get from sneaking into Tristan’s room to going three hours away to see your ex-boyfriend?”

“I don’t have time to go into all the details.” If I started talking about it, I might break down, and right now, I only wanted the anger, I wanted to cling to it. I needed to.

Her gaze turned concerned with a splinter of protectiveness. “I’m assuming things didn’t go well with Operation Fuck Over Tristan.”

“He’s a dick,” I said, going to my small closet and pulling out a hoodie.

“That’s what I’ve been saying.”

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