Page 80 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

I don’t lie. I’m done lying. “Yes.”

The first punch comes before I even finish the word.

27

BEAU

He hits my jaw first. It’s not a clean hit, his knuckles sliding over the hard bone instead of landing hard. His fist slams into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me and sending me stumbling backward. I knock back against a chair, almost tripping and plummeting to the ground.

The seconds it takes me to catch myself gives Luke the chance to pummel my mouth and chest. I hold up my arms to block him, but he’s got momentum, and he breaks right through my pitiful attempt at stopping him.

It’s what I deserve.

I’ve got a few inches and a good fifteen pounds of muscle on Luke, and I could knock him out if I really wanted to. I don’t. I’ve been waiting for this fight for five years. Part of me even feels relieved that it’s finally happening.

Then Luke’s fist pounds against my lower lip and all I feel is pain. Salty blood fills my mouth, and adrenaline makes my vision narrow in on the threat. I take a swing, not trying to hit Luke, but to force him back so I can have a fucking second to breathe.

“You motherfucker,” Luke growls, right before he starts swinging again. He’s got plenty to be pissed about, and I can practically feel the rage vibrating through every hit, my sins written out in punches.

The hit to my mouth is for the viral Peppermint post that humiliated him and cost him his Air Canada deal.

The hit to my chest is for lying to him for years.

The hit to my nose is for screwing his sister.

The knee to my stomach is for the humiliation of being the last to know.

I’m sure all the implicit lies are flashing through his head, just like they are through mine. Every poker night, every trip to Terrace, every time I clapped him on the back and asked how he was doing—all of it was a lie. Luke trusted me more than anyone, and the whole time I was sneaking around with his little sister and covering for the anonymous blogger who was trashing their lives.

Blows rain down on me. The pain fades with every blow, like I’m sinking into a pit of tar, crushing and suffocating, but soft in its own way. The world fades away until it’s just me, Luke and the pain.

I swing at Luke again, just to get a break, but my sense of balance is fucked and my feet go out from under me. I fall back on the carpeted floor, my head hitting it with a soft thud.

Luke’s on top of me in seconds. He pulls back his fist to strike, then it goes back and back and back. My blurred vision takes a second to realize that Nate’s pulling Luke back, yanking him out of the fight. Ryan grabs me under the arms and drags me to my feet. He grabs me by the arms to hold me back, but I’m not thrashing like Luke. I’ve got no fight left in me, not that I had much to begin with.

Through the whole fight, James hasn’t moved. He’s just standing by the table, hands in his pockets, watching with an expression that I can’t read.

My chest heaves as my body scrambles to get me oxygen. My arms and legs are shaky from exertion and adrenaline subsiding, and the pain in my lip roars back to life. I touch my mouth tenderly, hissing when I hit the wound. My lip is split, blood dripping down my chin. I sweep a tongue over my teeth, breathing a sigh of relief that they’re all there.

Across the room, Luke pulls out of Nate’s grasp as he takes stock of his own injuries. His knuckles are bloody, and I have no idea if it’s my blood or his. His face is pristine, unmarred by the fight, but his eyes churn with wrath.

“You filthy fucking traitor,” he spits. “Did you get off on it, keeping secrets from me when you knew how deeply I trusted you? Did it make you feel like a big man, holding that over me?”

“No,” I say, sending stinging pain through my lip.

“You were supposed to be the one person who would never lie to me!” he roars. “My best fucking friend! You’re my brother. She’s my sister. And you’ve been—for how long, Beau? How long have you been fucking my sister behind my back?”

I brace myself. “Five years.”

Ryan gasps behind me. Nate covers his mouth while Luke’s falls open with shock. It’s like I can see into his brain as he does the math. All the shared memories that happened over the past few years. Every holiday, every poker night, every moment of their friendship. I didn’t just betray him once. Betrayal bore the load of our relationship for years.

“You knew,” Luke mutters. “You knew it was Brinley destroying their reputations to the entire fucking world.”

No use hiding it. “I did. Not until a few months ago, but yeah. I knew.”

He sneers. “So you protected her instead of protecting us. Instead of protecting me. Your own best friend.”

“I was going to tell you tonight,” I tell him. My voice comes out too high, sounding desperate even to me. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go.”