“And who knows how many people Ethan’s snatched from us since then,” I argue.
“What are the numbers?”Hawke asks.“You take the majority of the bets.Have you noticed a significant dip?”
Have I?I pinch the bridge of my nose, hating the truth and what it proves.We’re down twenty-two-point-three percent from our average.Twenty.Two.Point.Three.I lower my hand and shake my head, caught between shame and fucking rage over the truth as it stares me in the face.
“I figured it was the time of the year,” I mutter.“People spending their money on holiday shit, not giving it to fucking Morgan instead.”
“Well, they are,” Jagger grits out.
My glare cuts to my big brother.“I’m aware.”
“How could you let this happen?”he snaps.“How could you ignore a dip?—”
I shove to my feet and meet him in the center of the room.“I wasn’t ignoring it!”
“How could you write it off, then?”he growls, jabbing his finger against my sternum.“You know every number means something.”
“Yeah,” I bark.“I do know every number means something.Including the odds of Violet winning the fucking haunted house, and clearly, I wasn’t the only one because the evidence is still missing.”
My brother looks at me like I just sucker punched him.“You really want to go there?”he demands.“Again?”
“Since we’ve yet to actually get anywhere on that front?”I laugh.“Yeah, it might be a good idea?—”
Hawke shoves himself between us while Roman pries Jagger away, creating more distance.“Will you two stop it?”Hawke seethes.“Now is not the time to turn on each other.”He lowers his hands, and my chest heaves with pent-up frustration, but I take a step back anyway, knowing he’s right.Satisfied, Hawke turns to me.“Thanks for telling us.I don’t understand how we didn’t know Ethan was sniffing around HHU.I’ve been running surveillance with Roman, and somehow, we missed it.That’s on us.”
“Hawke’s right,” Roman says.“You shouldn’t have been blindsided like that.”
Jagger’s chin dips, silently agreeing as he pins me with his stare.“I’m sorry.”He shakes his head in disgust.“I shouldn’t have blamed you when I’m the one who got us into this mess.”
Damn right, he did.
Trouble is, rubbing his nose in it will only waste time.What we need is a solution.
I run my tongue along my upper teeth, forcing myself to nod.“So what do we do?”I ask.“Last time we talked business, I said I’d come up with an idea, but I can’t stop thinking about Morgan and what I would do if I was him.”
“What do you mean?”Jagger asks.
Following the tiny breadcrumbs of my sentiment, Hawke answers for me, “Why hold onto the video?”
“Exactly.Why not show it to everyone?”I continue.“Proof that we manipulated the outcome of a bet would be an easy way to shut down our entire operation.”
It’s been messing with me ever since I found out about the tape.About the solid proof Morgan has in his possession.But instead of weaponizing it, he’s sitting on it.
Why?
“If I were him, I’d wait to reveal it,” Roman says.“Wait until a night like the haunted house.Wait until my opponent had invested a shit-ton of time and money and energy into an event they’d planned would hit big.Then, I’d give everyone the proof I had.Make it a big-ass spectacle.One they couldn’t sweep under the rug.”
“Which means we need to play the next few events carefully.”Jagger turns to Hawke.“Any luck on tracking it down yet?”
“Still working on it,” Hawke answers.
Roman sighs.“I’m gonna visit Rafe again,” he decides.“His cellmate knows a few of Morgan’s people.I’ll have him put out some feelers.See if he’s heard anything, or if he knows where Morgan might keep a video like that.”
“Or who would know about Hawke’s hacking skills, and why Morgan should keep a hard copy,” Jagger adds.“In the meantime, lying low won’t get us anywhere.”
He’s right.It won’t.
“This Friday,” I decide.“Let’s have a bonfire.Smores.Alcohol.Something to remind people who this town belongs to.”
