Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

Army lets Milo fall to the ground, and he grabs his bloody cheek as Clay
moves over to Callum.
He sits there, slouching and knees spread, watching as if it’s a show and
he’s not outnumbered.
“That was hot,” he tells Clay.
His eyes flash to the side as Dallas moves behind him, and I watch my
brother stare down at him, his eyes unreadable.
Clay steps in front of him, still holding the knife.
“You really want to do this?” he asks her. “Make all the threats you want.
Promise to sink me in the swamps for the gators. You and I both know that
what you can do, so can I.”
I drop my eyes to my phone, slowly moving my thumb over the screen.
“You didn’t learn, did you?” he asks her. “That’s why you always pick on
the weak, Clay. You can’t beat me if the playing field is even.”
And I press Play.
“Did you know,” Callum’s voice drifts through my phone, “that a
structure can be deemed a historical landmark and cannot be destroyed after
it reaches one-hundred years old?”
Everyone turns to look at me, taking in the cell in my hand. Callum’s
eyes sharpen on me.
“And while fucking for me will get you Mercutio, fucking me will get you
a meeting with Raymond FitzHugh to push through your petition to protect
the lighthouse? And, in effect, your land?”
Macon’s body turns rigid, and Dallas lets loose a snarl.
“Fucking me good guarantees it, in fact.”
I pause the recording, stepping up to Clay’s side. “The playing field is…”
I shake my head, loving the way his lips tighten and that fucking smile is
gone. “Not even, Callum.”
I feel Macon’s heat rolling off him, and I know the wheels in his head are
turning. He wants to do something, but maybe if I can get him out of here
now, I can calm them all down.