Page 32 of Bae

The sound of Braeden’s beer bottle hitting the bench seemed to punctuate my demand. “What?”

Trent and Drew glanced at each other, and I growled. My patience was used up. Rim would be back any second, so he needed to spit it out.

“I chased the press off the shelter property last night,” Trent said to B, then looked at me.

“Vultures,” Braeden muttered. “How the hell did you clear ‘em out?”

“I made a deal. Offered them something they couldn’t turn down.”

“Such as?” I pressed.

“Exclusive guaranteed photos of me and Drew.”

“Man-love PDA,” Braeden mused, tipping his bottle against his lips.

I stood and paced in front of the fire. “You threw yourself at the press to protect Rimmel?”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Trent replied. Beside him, Drew didn’t seem so convinced.

I let a few choice words fly. Itwasa big deal. Trent and Drew hated being put on display in front of the world. The bigots and haters never shut up, and quite frankly, it put targets on their backs every time they were seen out together touching, even in the most innocent ways.

Trent was a private guy; he was very protective. Experience had taught him to be extremely cautious about who he let into his life, who he showed his true self.

I locked eyes with Drew. “Was it bad?” He’d be a little more blunt about what the camera-wielding devils were like today.

“It was worth it,” he replied.

“That’s not a fucking answer.”

Sensing my agitation, B stood. “How much did you give them?”

Trent shook his head once. “Not much. A kiss, some hand holding. I told them where to be today and what time. They were there. We performed, then got in the car and sped home.”

“Why the fuck did you show up?” B asked. “You could have blown them off.”

“Because next time it wouldn’t have worked. They would have just come at Rimmel harder.”

“What else happened?” I asked, sensing there was more. Rim was followed a lot. The press was already outright brutal, so if Trent was worried they were about to get worse, there was a reason.

He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I got a call,” Drew said. “I was offered a lot of money to spill some family secrets.”

My body stilled. “What?” I growled.

“They mostly wanted dirt on you and Rim. They asked about Rim’s past, her miscarriage…” Drew went on.

The edges of my vision started to go a little dark. Rage was like a black cloud, rolling in with a massive storm, threatening to consume me.

They had no right. No right to Rimmel and her private pain.

“Obviously we told them to go fuck themselves.” Trent spoke up. Maybe he sensed I was about to blow. “No amount of money would make us turn on family.”

“Christ.” I fumed and dropped back into the seat. I drained about half my beer in one swallow, then finished the rest.

“How much?” B asked.

Drew hesitated, then replied. “Two million.”

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