Page 15 of Dark Horse

“I was not blowing off responsibilities.” It’s my turn to cut him off, and he doesn’t like it. “I had an issue with the liquor license, and then Hazel had a wedding emergency.”

“What liquor-license issue?” His lips flatten.

“I forgot to check something. Betty always made sure to remind me, but I guess she’s gone now. They’ve turned over a lot of the staff at the county office, and I missed a date. But I fixed it. I can take care of things myself.” I don’t want to hear him say that he’ll take care of it. He always “takes care” of everything and then lords it over me like I’m a child who can’t be responsible.

There’s a low scathing laugh on his part as he considers my defense.

“So you’re spending so much time talking to dirty old men on the internet, you can’t keep up with your actual responsibilities?”

“I’m not talking to them for fun. I need the money.”

“Yeah. I saw the thousands sitting in your account, and yet you haven’t been able to make rent for months. Why is that?” Accusation scorches through his tone.

“Because the bar isn’t doing well. You know this.” It hurts my heart to admit it, but it’s true.

“And you couldn’t use some of your porn money to pay the rent?”

“It’s not porn!”

Another derisive chuckle bubbles up from his chest. “No? What is it then?”

“It’s just some pictures. No different than the kind I’d share with a boyfriend. You’re making it sound lewd.”

He runs his hand over his lips like he’s half in disbelief and half incapable of speech. It’s distractingly attractive, and I hate it. He blinks and refocuses his attention on me.

“I’mmaking it sound lewd? Do you need me to replay that voice memo? Or the half dozen other ones I found? These men aren’t your boyfriends. They don’t care about you.”

“You listened to all of them?” I’m having trouble breathing, and I hear a faint ringing sound in my ears.

I can’t hear the rest of what he’s saying because I’m too busy coming to terms with the fact that Grant fucking Stockton has just witnessed enough private content to make me want to dig my own grave and jump in it.

“I told you. When you were missing…” There’s the slightest catch in his voice before he speaks, though, like he was thinking of the lie he was going to tell before he spoke.

“There’s no way you looked through all of that before you started calling your brothers if you really thought something happened to me.”

“I don’t call Ramsey for this kind of thing.”

“So you called Levi.”

“To see if he could find out where you were. It took time for him to get that information.” The middle Stockton brother is half genius and half enforcer. He’s always the one they call when they need the importantjobs done. If we weren’t in the middle of a humiliating argument, it might be a little bit touching he was that worried about me.

“So then you—” He cuts me off before I can finish.

“I’m done acting like this is a fucking democracy. You owed me rent. You didn’t pay, and now I find out you had the money all along.”

“It’s in arrears. I don’t have the money yet.”

“You didn’t have the money for the rent, but you had money for all these clothes and lingerie?” He points to the mess on the couch. I was trying to find something cute to wear for my client earlier. He’s particular about what he likes, but he tips well.

“It’s part of doing business. You have to spend money to make money.” I state the obvious.

“You spentmymoney,” he snaps, his tone growing more impatient each time he speaks.

“Like you fucking needed it!” It’s my turn to slap my palm on the table.

His eyes follow the motion, staring at my hand before the bright blues slowly lift to meet mine.

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

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