Priceless (Forbidden Men 8)

“Because I feel like an idiot.” She bowed her head as a sob made her entire torso shudder. “I should’ve known Seth wanting to go out with me because he was actually interested was too good to be true. And I’m a fool for falling for his lies.”

God, she was crying again. I set my hand on her back. “You’re not an idiot, no matter what. And I’m going to kill him, no matter what. So you might as well just tell me why I am.”

“Fine.”

After wiping at the tears on her cheeks, she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “His friend texted his phone while he was in the other room getting us some drinks. And this is...well, here’s the group-text conversation about four or five of them have had over the past few days.”

She tapped into her photos where she’d taken a couple screenshots of some texts. Frowning when she handed them to me, I watched her pale face a minute, wondering what could be so incriminating from a text.

Then I frowned. “He didn’t passcode protect his phone?” After my cell phone encounter with Shayla in high school, I’d always protected my phone.

She rolled her eyes. “Worse. His code was 1-2-3-4.”

“Ah.” Finally ready to see what she had to show me, I glanced down and read the bottom, most recent message first.

It said: Don’t forget, asshole. You need to provide proof before we pay you.

That made no sense to me, so I moved up to the one above it.

Have you nailed the cripple yet?

“What?” I breathed out, the air stalling in my chest.

Needing to start from the b

eginning, I found the first text and promptly became sicker and sicker from every post I read on my way back to the end.

Apparently, Sarah had been the object of a challenge. A couple of Seth’s buddies had dared him to ask her out and then sleep with her tonight. He hadn’t wanted to, but they’d kept picking at him, even offering to pay him until the price rose to over two hundred dollars. Finally, he’d been forced into it to save face.

“What the fuck?” I shook my head, unable to believe my eyes.

What...why...how could anyone do this to Sarah?

They didn’t even know her. They had no idea how amazing, and sweet, and spirited she was.

They’d only seen something to ridicule and...and they’d hurt her.

Those bastards had hurt Sarah.

I looked up, feeling as if a Mack truck had slammed into my chest. Sarah’s eyes grew big when she saw my expression. I wasn’t sure what I looked like; I was too dazed to care. But she gripped my hand and whispered, “Please don’t lose it.”

For some reason, those four words flipped a switch inside me. I went from hurt on her behalf to outright livid.

“Motherfucker,” I hissed, curling my finger around the phone that held such vile words about my Sarah until I swore I heard the plastic case crack.

That prick was going to hurt for this. He was going to bleed, and scream, and cry for what he’d done to her. And then he was going to bleed, and scream, and cry all over again. I couldn’t believe I’d left him in that apartment untouched. I was such a fucking idiot.

Winding back my arm to throw the offending words on her phone as hard as I could against the wall, I paused when Sarah cringed and ducked, covering her head with her arms.

Shit.

Freezing, with my arm raised, I said, “I’m not losing it.” I was in complete, utter, murderous control.

After placing the phone gently in her lap, I stood up, murmuring, “I gotta go.”

“No!” She leaped off the bed after me, and I had to catch her or she would’ve fallen flat on her face.

“Sarah!” Gripping her arms, I pulled her against my chest and then eased us back onto the bed. “What the hell?”