Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I rolled my eyes, then reminded myself I’d get more out of him if I looked meek. Meek was so not my thing. But surely, I could pretend for a little longer. I went back to hugging my arms around my chest, letting my head dip a little. Think small and scared, Avery, I reminded myself.
“Cammie let you in?” I asked. “Or she broke into my office?”
“I wasn’t even there,” he said. “That was all Cammie. She emptied out your drawer and took everything because she didn’t know what was important. She stole Bob’s phone for me, too. He’s as dumb as you are. All about being a family man, but Cammie flashed her tits and lifted his phone without him noticing. I cloned it while she kept him distracted. It’s easy if you know where to look on the internet.”
He stared me down, taking a step closer to loom over me. I had to fight the urge to move out of reach. “There’s nothing to prove I did any of it. Everyone saw me at Bear Run on Sunday, and Cammie did the break-in all by herself. But you, you were there while Wild Haven burned. Your name and your brother’s money won’t be able to get you out of this. Maybe you should sell me Sawyers Bend Brewing while you can.”
I backed up a step, wanting space from the menace in his eyes. I’d wanted him to think he had the upper hand, but his confidence was unnerving.
“I’m not selling you my brewery,” I said, and the waver of fear in my voice wasn’t entirely an act.
“You sure about that? I know you can’t reproduce the beer everyone loved so much on Halloween. Even if you managed to remember the recipe, I added something you don’t know about. Only I have the real recipe.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, dropping the whole meek act. He was fucking diabolical. Bad enough he’d broken into my office, set Bob’s brewery on fire, framed me for arson, and almost killed me. But now he was fucking with my beer?
“Are you kidding me?” I demanded.
“Nope,” his grin so smug I struggled not to take a swing at him, even though he could probably knock me out with one good hit. He tilted his head to the side. “I’ll tell you what. For the right price, I’ll give you the whole recipe. Secret additions and all.”
“Fuck you,” was all I could say. Did I want to know how to make that magnificent brew we’d sold on Halloween? Yeah, I did, but I was not giving this asshole a dime.
“Are you sure about that, Avery? You won’t get it any other way.”
I shook my head. He wasn’t worth another word out of my mouth.
“You want to think about that?” he asked, closing the distance between us. “Think real hard about what more you have to lose.”
He reached for my arm. I stepped back, hitting a tall stack of bags stuffed with hops. Fuck. I’d forgotten how tall Matthew was. My heart kicked in my chest, my throat dry—
And then I heard the sound I’d been waiting for, growing louder as West came out from behind the shelves at the back of the room.
“Matthew Holt. You’re under arrest for breaking and entering, arson, and attempted murder.”
Matthew’s face went slack, his eyes wide with shock. I took advantage of his distraction to slip off to the side, far out of his reach, biting my lip to stop a semi-hysterical laugh of relief. I hadn’t been sure I could pull it off, but Griffen had been right—Matthew was just arrogant enough to think he could get away with it. He only needed a little prodding.
West had the cuffs on Matthew and was pushing him out the door when Chris came to my side. He tugged at his sandy ponytail, his eyes heavy.
“Hey, Avery. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t—”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. I hired him in the first place. I had no idea he was this level of crazy.”
“He knew his stuff,” Chris said, leaning one shoulder against the tall stack of hops.
I nodded. “He did. But poor Bob.” I let out a breath, my chest tight at the memory of watching Matthew’s fire devour Bob’s brewery. If it had been me, I’d be grieving. This was a business, but we were all in it because we loved what we did. Every brewery around here was a little different, reflecting the personalities of the owners and their staff. And Bob’s was effectively gone. I turned to Chris.
“I was thinking,” I said, “we should all get together, do a fundraising thing for Bob. I’m sure he’s got insurance, but you know how that goes. It doesn’t cover much.”
“Yeah,” Chris said, grinning at me. “That’s a great idea. I’ll make some calls. I know he’d appreciate it. And it’s cool of you to think of it, especially after—” He raised his chin at the door Matthew had so recently been pushed through.