Page 108 of Back in Black

GIDDY with recent accomplishments, Millie sat at her desk and opened up the browser. She couldn’t stop chuckling as she remembered the horrified look of shock on Audrey’s face.

How dare that bitch choose Brett over her? Screwing the guy was one thing; she had nothing against that. A stud should never be wasted. Like that photographer loser . . .

He’d been so anxious to please, so titillated at the idea of joining her in her efforts to expose Drew Black for the bastard she knew him to be. But he’d proven too stupid to risk having around.

It was bad enough that he’d botched the bomb threat. But he’d almost let Drew catch him taking photographs, too. That was something she couldn’t allow. Loose lips sank ships, and really, who’d miss that creep anyway?

It sucked that she hadn’t gotten the photographs first, but eventually they’d be released.

For a little while there, Millie had considered Dickey Thompson as a possible conspirator. Even with his cauliflower ears, he was gorgeous, built like steel, and he looked like he could go all night long. After his girlfriend dumped him, he should have been easy pickings.

Unfortunately, the fool was all about the SBC and protecting the devil at the helm. She’d figured that out easily enough. So, fuck him. Dickey Thompson could go down with the rest of the organization, as far as she cared.

Millie first looked up news of the fire, but only found one small account. Apparently no one cared when a house in the slums turned into kindling. The report said that no one had perished, but that was okay. Brett would get the message anyway.

And so would Audrey.

She laughed again, imagining the fear that Audrey was starting to feel. She might even have some suspicions, but she couldn’t prove a damn thing. This time, Millie had unfailingly covered her trail. No more anger-management courses for her.

Next, Millie pulled up the article she’d posted on Brett. How easy it had been to dig up the dirt from his past. Even his mother and father hadn’t wanted him, but Audrey, damn her, chose to stick by his side no matter what. After all the work they’d done, all the workshe’ddone, to reveal the SBC and Drew Black as evil, blood-hungry, violence-mongering pricks, Audrey had still turned her back on them for aman.

And not just a man, but a fighter, theirenemy. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Audrey deserved whatever she got.

Hunkering in front of her laptop, Millie enjoyed all the comments from posters who wanted to support Brett in his time of need—something she knew he’d hate—when up popped a new headline.

The owner of the site encouraged everyone to check out a live news conference from Drew Black. Live? What was that demon up to now?

Millie read a follow-up comment from someone bouncing back and forth between the sites. It read:Dude, he’s destroying that WAVS chick. You have to check it out!

More posts popped up in agreement, most of them thrilled by what was surely another unjustified attack against her.

Millie went cold inside. No, Drew wouldn’t dare. Not now, not with his job gone and his whore exposed. Even an idiot would have enough sense to lie low, to ride out the storm without more public exposure.

Feeling numb, Millie clicked on the link—and reeled back in disbelief when Drew Black’s voice came through her computer. Hewasdoing this live, right now, despite everything.

She started breathing hard and fast. Humiliation and rage expanded in an explosion of emotion that blocked part of the garbage Drew Black spewed for all to hear.

But key words, likefucking nutcase, andsick idiot, andpathetic loser out for revenge, all seeped into her burning brain.

The fury built, boiled, until Millie snatched up the laptop and flung it across the room with a guttural scream of rage. The screen cracked and hinges broke.

Standing, panting, her hands in fists and her eyes burning, she focused on one thing. Only one.

Making Drew Black pay.

AUDREY was a mess, and she knew it. Her eyes were not only red from fighting tears, but because of the smoke. Her wrinkled clothes and tangled hair smelled of smoke, too. She looked like a walking disaster.

She’d taken Spice straight to her apartment and set her up in the kitchen with a makeshift litter box, a water bowl, and a soft bed of towels. Even though the cat seemed fine, she might need to see a vet. Reaching Brett was now more important than ever.

If he wouldn’t answer her calls, she’d just have to go to him. If he went back to his apartment without knowing . . . She shuddered. He had to be told about the fire and where to find Spice.

She called again, and this time she left a message, saying, “Look, I know you must hate me right now, but I have to talk to you. It’s important. I . . . I have Spice. She’s fine. I just wanted you to know. I’ll explain when you call me back or . . . I see you.”

When she pulled up in front of Roger’s Rodeo, she searched the lot and found what she thought was Brett’s black truck. Her chest hurt at the thought of confronting him before a crowd. Not that she believed Brett would go out of his way to humiliate her. He wasn’t like that. But a cold shoulder would accomplish the same thing.

After rubbing her tired eyes one more time, Audrey put a hand over her thudding heart and left her car. People glanced her way as she walked into the bar, making her even more self-conscious about her disheveled clothes and hair.

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