The Anti-hero (The Goode Brothers)

“Damn, I look pretty fucking hot,” I say, watching the video on my phone.

Sage has done an impressive job of editing the short ten-second clip by adding a filter, cropping, and putting some soft music with a heavy beat in the background to match the action in the video.

She scoffs at my remark, rolling her eyes from across the room.

As soon as we filmed that scene, we both got dressed and I put in an order for some Chinese food to be delivered to her apartment. She’s curled up on the couch, eating lo mein out of the box, as I sit at the mismatched table in her kitchenette area with a box of fried rice.

“How many views does it have?” she asks.

“Four thousand already. Is that good?”

“Not bad,” she replies with a mouthful. “I’m sharing it on some burner accounts to get the buzz going. Let’s see if we can get this to go viral.”

Watching her from across the room, I replay the scene over in my mind. As hot as it looks on camera, it was even hotter in the moment. The way her body responded to my dominating her like that—it was more than I expected. Those sounds she made had my dick harder than it’s ever been.

Man, I really need to get laid more often. And if it wasn’t for rule number four, I would.

Rule #4: No sleeping with anyone else for the next three months.

The rule makes sense, but it’s going to make for a rough three months. I’ve never been rough with women in bed. Mostly because the women I usually sleep with don’t really seem like the choke-me, spank-me, pull-my-hair types. And that’s not exactly the type of thing you assume without asking first.

Fuck, am I into that shit now? I’m not that guy. I don’t want to hurt Sage, so why the hell does my cock seem to love the sound of her whimpers?

Is she into that shit?

Judging by how soaked her panties were, she seemed pretty into it. My cock twitches in my pants at the memory of how good she felt on my lap, those pretty little thighs clenching around me, and her perky little tits bouncing as she pretended to ride my cock.

For the first time since that night, I actually consider fucking Sage again. I mean…why not? It’s not like we’d ever date for real, so we might as well just screw and get the authentic thing on camera, right?

Then I remember rule five.

Rule #5: Keep it fake.

It made sense when we proposed the rule. Three months of faking a relationship, never letting things get real to keep it from getting complicated. We have to keep the end goal in mind. Fuck with Truett and Brett a little, make things tense between them, and hopefully get the club away from my father in the process. With Truett’s son publicly fucking Brett’s ex, it should be easy.

“What do you think Brett will do when he sees it?” I ask.

Immediately, Sage fidgets and looks uncomfortable. “Umm…I don’t know. He’ll probably call me to tell me what a ho I am. Or find some way to make me feel like shit for what I choose to do with my own free will.”

“He won’t…hurt you, will he?”

Her brows pinch together as she stirs the noodles in the carton, not looking up at me as she shakes her head. “No. He wouldn’t.”

As worry starts to creep its way up, I’m about to say something to Sage when my phone rings on the table. I see my brother’s name on the screen, which is strange because Caleb never calls me.

Hesitantly, I pick it up and swipe the screen to answer it.

“Hey, Caleb—”

“Holy shit, Adam,” he barks into the phone. “Tell me this is some deep fake photoshopped bullshit.”

I drop the food carton on the table as my eyes widen. I’m not sure why, but I bolt out of my seat and stumble for a response to my brother’s accusation.

“Dude, answer me,” he yells.

“It’s real, Caleb.”

“What the fuck, Adam? Did you leak this shit on purpose?”

Across the room, Sage is staring at me with alarm on her face. This is what we wanted, right? This is what happens when you post a sex tape online. People see it.

“Yes, I did it on purpose,” I reply. My heart is pounding in my chest as I start to pace the room. My phone beeps and I pull it away from my face to see that I have another incoming call, this time from my father’s publicist. I quickly hit decline.

“Why the fuck would you do it on purpose? What is going on with you?”

“Because I’m sick and fucking tired, Caleb. I’m tired of being so perfect and doing everything he wants us to do for his image, his reputation, his ministry.”

“Jesus, Adam. This is about him firing you as his writer?”

“It’s about a lot of shit, Caleb. Shit you wouldn’t understand. He’s manipulated us long enough, and I’m fucking done. I posted that video because I wanted to. I started dating Sage because I wanted to. I brought her to the gala last night because I fucking wanted to.”

The line goes silent for a moment, and I can tell by the background noise that Caleb is in his car. After a moment, he responds.

“Damn. He’s going to lose his shit, Adam. Are you ready for this?” His tone is softer now as if he understands me a little more, but it’s laced with worry too.

“Yes, I’m ready. And if he thinks I’m not going to do it again, he’s wrong.”

Caleb sighs. “This isn’t like you.”

“No, brother. This is me. My entire life up until now…that wasn’t me. It was him.”

Silence again. I didn’t realize until this moment just how much I want my brothers on my side for this. How much I need to hear at least one of them say how much they hate that motherfucker so I’m not so alone. Not just for me. For Isaac too.

“Good for you, Adam. Fuck that asshole.”

I’m struck speechless for so long I don’t even realize the call ends, and my phone is buzzing with texts and messages.

“The video is already at two million views,” Sage says quietly, looking down at her phone.

“Good,” I reply, feeling motivated and ready to do some damage. “We can film another one tomorrow.”

She stares up at me with surprise. “Okay…” As her voice lingers, I know she’s about to say something else. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s better than all right. The video is working, and we’ve only just begun.”

I cross the room to the door and glance back at her, sitting on the couch with her pink hair shining with the afternoon sun. She looks beautiful from this angle, and I feel sort of…proud of her now. Proud of what we’re accomplishing.

So proud I almost…smile. But that’s against the rules. Not one of our rules, but one of my rules.

Don’t let Peaches know how much I like her.

It’s easier this way. No feelings. No strings.

Before I let a smile slip, I grimace instead. As I turn the knob on the door, I glance back at her, quietly muttering a cold goodbye before slipping out of her apartment.