Page 55 of Playing Dirty
"No," I said, my voice sharp as I held my ground. "I'm telling you what I know."
Matt opened his mouth to argue again, but I didn’t let him.
“I know you have a home in Casper,” I said, my voice low but cutting. “Not an apartment, not some rental—you own the place. I know you work for the Frontier Market there from time to time. And I know you don’t just vanish for weeks without reason.”
A flash of something—panic—flickered across his face before it hardened into defiance.
“Callie, that’s?—”
“That’s the truth! You’ve been feeding me one story after another, like I’m too dumb to notice the holes. I’ve pieced together every fragment, every lie you’ve spun, and I’m done being your sex puppet.”
He stepped forward, trying to crowd my space, his presence like a looming thunderhead. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve got it all wrong?—”
I stood my ground, feeling the electricity crackling in the air between us, daring him to keep denying it.
Then, the back porch door creaked open, a sound that sliced through the tense silence like a knife. Matt froze, his eyes darting toward the intrusion, just as Rhett stepped inside with an intensity that filled the room.
Matt’s swagger cracked, his tone edging somewhere between pissed and rattled. “What the hell’s he doing here?”
The question hung in the air, begging for a fight, but Rhett didn’t bite. He just moved—slow, deliberate—each step landing with the weight of a warning until he stood over Matt, close enough that the space between them seemed to be holding its breath.
Tension crackled between them like a live wire, and I braced myself, half-expecting Rhett’s fist to fly. His shoulders were tight, his jaw clenched hard enough to shatter teeth. Yet instead of the punch I feared, Rhett shoved Matt onto the couch with a force that made the cushions groan in protest.
“You’re lucky she’s here,” Rhett growled. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be stopping at a shove.”
Matt’s face contorted with defiance and fear. “You can’t just?—”
Rhett cut him off by pulling out his phone and pressing play, revealing the audio I hadn’t heard before. The room filled with a hauntingly familiar sound—a woman’s laughter, soft yet piercing, followed by Matt’s voice, sinister and unmistakable.
The color drained from Matt’s face as the damning evidence played out, each note of laughter a nail in his coffin. The walls seemed to close in, the weight of the truth undeniable, and I could see the realization crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
Matt shot up from the couch like the phone had burned him. “You’re both out of your damn minds,” he barked, but there was no weight behind it now—just the sound of someone scrambling to grab control before it slipped completely away.
He turned to me, his face tight. “You’re done here, Callie. Pack your things, turn in that rental car, and if I hear one word—one damnwhisper—about this, I’ll make sure you regret it. I can make you unemployable faster than you think.”
I almost laughed. “No problem,” I said, my voice flat. “I quit. I’ll turn in the rental car.”
For a second, he blinked, like he couldn’t compute it. I guess he expected me to beg, cry, or cling to whatever power he thought he had.
Rhett took a slow step closer, and Matt instinctively backed up until his calves hit the couch again. “You’re not the one making threats here,” Rhett said. “This town? We protect our own. And you’re not one of us. Not now. Not ever.”
Matt’s jaw worked, but nothing came out.
“You’ve got an hour to be gone,” Rhett added, his tone cool and final. “If you’re not, I’ll make sure the whole damn county knows what you’ve been up to—Casper, Frontier Market, all of it.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, tilting the screen just enough for Matt to catch a glimpse of the video.
Matt’s face went pale, his mouth opening like he had something to say, but no words were ready to save him.
“And trust me,” Rhett went on, “they’ll believe her over you. And if they don’t, I have the video and a witness for proof.”
Matt swallowed hard, his glare shifting between me and Rhett, but he didn’t say another word.
Rhett took my arm and steered me toward the door. “Come on.”
“I need to go back in and get the rest of my things,” I said, looking over my shoulder.
“No, you don’t,” he said firmly, already guiding me toward his truck. “I’ll buy you anything you want or need, sweetheart. Nothing in there is worth stepping foot back inside for.”
