The Feud That Never Was

In the quiet residential district of Maplebrook Heights, the houses looked as serene as they came—cookie-cutter two-stories, manicured lawns, and the kind of atmosphere that would make a horror movie jealous. Underneath the surface, though, things were rotting. One person could smell the decay, and that person was Reese Morgan, a seasoned journalist with a knack for sniffing out dirt. And let’s face it, she was a bit of an asshole.

Not the kind that ruins your day for no reason, but the kind who would eviscerate a corrupt politician in an exposé with a coffee in hand and a sly grin, then go on with her day as if nothing happened. To her, the world was a game of power, and she wasn’t playing to win—she was playing to watch others lose.

She’d been working on a story about Charles Grady, the town’s all-smiles, squeaky-clean mayor who, allegedly, wasn’t all that squeaky. Reese’s sources whispered about a scandal that would shatter Maplebrook Heights’ perfect little bubble—Grady’s involvement in some hush-hush dealings involving bribery, land, and a few ruined lives.

But there was one more thing tying it all together: a tutor. Not your regular “help with algebra” kind of tutor, but Devin Pike, who had been tutoring some of Grady’s political aides, teaching them God knows what. One thing for sure? The man could talk. And he did.

Devin was one of those chatty types who couldn’t shut up if someone duct-taped his mouth shut. He wasn’t dumb—far from it—but Reese figured he had an unlimited data plan for his mouth because he never stopped running it. And today was no different.

The two sat in Reese’s dimly lit kitchen, sipping coffee that had been brewed a little too long, the tension simmering like the pot that had produced it.

“So, Grady… he’s still at it, huh? With the bribes and stuff?” Devin asked, breaking the silence with the subtlety of a chainsaw.

Reese rolled her eyes, “No, he’s taken up interpretive dance instead. What the hell do you think? Of course, he’s still at it.”

Devin smiled awkwardly and continued babbling, “I just… I dunno. It feels weird, right? This whole thing. Grady, the feud with his brother—”

Reese cut him off, “What feud?”

Devin looked at her, startled. “The one with Jack Grady, his brother. The two of them haven’t spoken in years. Everyone knows about it.”

“Yeah, except they patched that up a year ago. Jack’s been out of the picture ever since, so whatever you think you’re adding here is worthless,” Reese snapped. She was not in the mood for this. The bastard was fumbling the bag of potentially good intel by dragging in rumors and half-truths. “Focus, Devin. Grady’s bribing council members. We don’t need to drag in his estranged family drama.”

Devin blinked a few times, as if trying to process what Reese had just said, before continuing. “But the memory… it’s foggy, y’know? I swore I saw Jack the other day at the café, talking to someone.”

“Jack’s in fucking Bermuda,” Reese spat. “I already checked. Focus.”

But something about Devin’s words stuck with her, gnawing at the back of her mind like a persistent itch. Could she have missed something? Nah, impossible.

As they kept talking, Reese realized Devin had way more info than she had anticipated. The babbling idiot was a goldmine of dirt, unwittingly spilling every scandalous detail like a leaky faucet. She learned about secret meetings, shady land deals, and, of course, Charles Grady’s knack for greasing the right palms.

Everything seemed to be falling into place until Devin dropped something that made her blood run cold.

“Y’know… it’s funny, though,” Devin said, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “You keep saying Jack’s out of town, but I’d bet my last buck that he’s back and hiding in plain sight. My memory’s foggy, but I swear, I saw him meet with Charles a few weeks ago. And not in a friendly way.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Reese snapped. “They hate each other.”

“No… see, that’s the thing. Everyone thinks they’ve been at odds for years. But maybe we’ve been looking at this wrong. Maybe the feud’s a cover.”

A twisted realization settled in Reese’s gut, like the heavy dread of staring at a ticking time bomb. The feud wasn’t real—it never had been. And Jack wasn’t out of the picture; he was smack in the middle of it.

Reese’s brain scrambled to piece together the puzzle. If the feud was a front, what the hell were the Grady brothers up to?

Devin kept talking, his voice becoming background noise as Reese’s mind raced. She cursed herself for not catching it earlier. All the corruption, all the shady dealings—it wasn’t just Charles Grady pulling the strings. It was both brothers, working together under everyone’s noses. They’d staged their feud, planting false rumors and covering their tracks so no one would ever connect them.

“That’s it,” Reese muttered, standing up abruptly. “Holy shit, Devin, you just cracked it.”

“I did?” Devin blinked. “Well, yeah, I guess I did!”

Reese grabbed her phone, heart racing. She’d been played. They all had. The Grady brothers were running a goddamn puppet show, and the whole town was the audience. She needed to get this story out now, before everything went to hell—or worse, before someone decided to make sure she never did.

“Devin,” she said, eyes sharp as daggers. “This is bigger than you think. And if you want to keep that motor mouth of yours intact, you better disappear. Now.”

Devin swallowed hard, his face losing its color. “W-wait, you’re not serious?”

Reese stared at him for a long, tense moment. “Oh, I’m dead serious.”

Devin, for once, shut up.

As he slunk out the door, Reese grabbed her laptop and started typing furiously. The town was about to go up in flames, and she was going to light the match. But first, she had to make sure the world knew that the Grady brothers weren’t just feuding—they were conspiring.

And if anyone came for her, well… she’d been in worse feuds herself.