Page 13 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“Fine.” Luke crosses his arms, scowling. “I’ll set up a meeting with your PI this week, Nate. We’ve dealt with enough bullshit from Peppermint. It’s time to make them pay for it.”

My stomach twists uncomfortably. Fuck, I hope I’m wrong. I hope all the hunches I’ve had about Peppermint over the years were dead wrong. That they’ll turn out to be someone’s disgruntled personal assistant instead of the woman I trust most in the world.

Eventually, the group breaks up. James heads off to take his call, and Ryan, Nate, and Luke head down to the gym to help Luke work off a bit of his anger with the punching bag. I shrug off their invitation with a stock excuse about doing inventory at Terrace. Nobody ever asks follow-up questions about inventory.

Really, it’s date night over at Brinley’s.

I always go to Brinley’s place. Obviously, we can’t meet at the House of Cards. Too many friends, too many eyes, too many elevators that might open at the wrong time. Brinley’s apartment is safe.

Or at least, it was. Now, Brinley has a friend staying with her.

Beau

Can I come over tonight? Is it okay with Eden there?

Brinley

Of course! Eden’s totally cool with it.

Beau

Great. I’ll be there in an hour.

She shoots me a heart emoji back, and I sigh. Eden might be Brinley’s friend, but her presence still adds a level of complication. Right now, I’m not sure how many more complications I can handle.

4

BRINLEY

The only thing distracting me from the anxious nausea turning in my stomach is the rising number on my phone. All I need is for 15,000 more people to read this blog post for it to officially have a million views. That’s more than ten times the readership I get on my average Toronto tea posts. Normally, I’d be thrilled. A niche gossip blog doesn’t go viral every day. Somewhere, my editor is probably cracking open a bottle of champagne.

Tick. The numbers on my phone tick up by another 2,000 readers.

That’s 2,000 more people who are now intimately acquainted with the details of my brother’s sex life.

I turn my phone face down on the Copper Cup counter. Thank god there’s a lull in customers, because if I had to plaster on a fake smile and make someone a macchiato, my face might crack from the effort.

God, I never should have published that interview. Even at the time, it felt more than a little icky, especially after I figured out that the woman I was interviewing was mostly interested in petty revenge. Luke never hurt her or pushed her boundaries—the only real sin he committed was not being interested in her. It wasn’t fair for me to put his kinks on blast for the world to read.

Back then though, I was angrier. The pain from what Luke and his friends did to me was fresher and more bitter. I wanted my brother to feel even a fraction of the humiliation I did, and I was willing to platform an opportunistic liar to do it.

I’m not just the antagonist—I’m the fucking villain in the story.

Taking a breath, I dare to turn my phone over again. It tells me that 3,500 more people just read the humiliating interview. The viral moment has shown no sign of slowing down. Soon, 1 million people will have read about my brother tying up girls for fun.

My stomach churns, and the grilled cheese sandwich I scarfed down for lunch threatens to make a reappearance.

I open my texts, half-expecting a furious missive from Luke, eviscerating me for betraying his trust and ruining his life. Of course, that text isn’t coming. My brother has no idea that I’m Peppermint. I’ve been careful about getting caught, even if I haven’t been careful about other things.

Like Luke’s reputation.

Like the way Peppermint’s writing affects my friends.

I wrote all my worst articles when the House of Cards guys were just a faceless group of assholes who destroyed my life. That was before I got to know Pippa, Cat, and Maura. Having friends who truly back me up went a long way toward healing my old wounds. Being with Beau for all these years—even if it’s not a real relationship, it’s made me second guess whether his friends could really be all that bad.

Honestly, I’ve been pulling back from writing as Peppermint for a while. As much as I wish I could unpublish the post, I know it wouldn’t do any good. The internet remembers everything, and it doesn’t care about your character arc.

Meanwhile, my chat with the girls is blowing up. I’m sure by now, they’ve seen the Peppermint post too. I brace myself for hurt and disbelieving reactions, and let out a sigh of relief when I don’t see any.