“When?” I squeaked, not knowing what the fuck to say.
“When he came over the first time,” he hissed, his voice raw and angered. “I sat in your room wondering what the fuck was happening and if I should still marry you.” His admission made me unsteady. He knew and said nothing? What the fuck. “Then I dug super deep and got in contact with Donnie.”
“You didn’t,” I griped, thinking of how Donnie hounded me for the last few months, wanting me to convince Madden.
“He told me it was okay that you two were fucking around because you weren’t even blood relatives.” The way his words felt like a slap over and over had me covering my face. It hurt, hearing the way he admitted things to Brandon when he wanted everything from Madden.
“It settled me a bit, made me less freaked out. Then I accepted it. Maybe you guys had a bond, something I could work with you on. A codependency. You both loved each other through trauma and created a connection—”
“Shut up,” I whimpered, not wanting to hear him. Our bonds went deeper than trauma. It meant more than death and sadness. We meant a lot to each other.
Our upbringing might have brought us together to be best friends, but it changed somewhere, and love became reality between us.
His face morphed into anger, finally dropping the slice of peace he offered the world. “Then you fucking left me to embarrass myself and I thought I’d just fuck you as hard as Madden does. Maybe degrade you like that little shit did.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I yelled, feeling anger and shame and so much disgust it painted my eyes with rage.
“I followed you, Andy. I looked into your texts, your emails to the girls,” he detailed with a sneer. His normal Ken-doll-looking kindness was nowhere in sight. “I saw him touch you at the club... birthday party, my fucking ass.”
He stepped closer, closing the gap between us. “I had you followed in London, got a ton of fucking pictures of you and him. Can’t say it doesn’t surprise me that you like his dick, seeing as it’s pierced. And a fucking sex club like a whore? Shocked the hell out of me.”
“Stop!” I screamed, feeling so many emotions as he gripped my jaw. His touch felt foreign, unwanted.
“You could have told me you like being fucked like a whore, Andy. I’d have given you what you wanted.” His voice bordered on unhinged, the vehemence in his words spitting at me.
When Madden called me degrading names, they were said in adoration, lust, a love he felt deep inside. When Brandon said it, it was to shame me, make me feel disgusting.
Tears leaked from my eyes as I realized I’d broken Brandon, but also, he had to have this anger inside him to be able to set it free now.
“What, I thought you liked it rough?” He used one hand to keep me from wiggling, and then the snick of his belt unbuckling sounded.
“Don’t do this,” I whimpered, trembling. He held my face so tightly, his fingers were bound to bruise me. He didn’t seem like the man I dated, let alone believed I loved, he seemed like a fucking monster.
“You want to be fucked like a slut, I’m just following through.”
His hands fumbled over his zipper and I gagged. “No, Brandon. I don’t want this,” I struggled with his arms. They were strong, corded muscles as he kept me at a distance. His hand slid down to my throat, holding me back. “Don’t want you.” It was a mere gasp, but the darkness hitting his face was showing me how much he didn’t want to be the second choice.
He held my neck, squeezing too hard, the roughness of his fingers debilitated me. Black spots coated my vision. Would I die this way? As revenge for fucking up?
“Don’t pass out now, Andy, I haven’t fucked you yet,” he rasped, the smell of his cologne invading me even more so as he leaned in.
My heart hammered as my breathing slowed. Breath play, the one thing I told Madden I wasn’t into. It reminded me of nearly drowning.
“Andy, let’s go swimming!” Madden suggested, his face full of joy. We were both in Florida, Dox brought us both on tour but he was busy so we ended up set up in a hotel with Royce.
He wasn’t nearby, so he told us to wait for lunch and then we could go play. “Roy said not to!” I yelled back at him.
“Don’t be a baby, Andy! Come on!” His face was full of mischief. We loved spending so much time together and this was no different.
He didn’t need to know that I couldn’t swim well or that Roy always held me up as I tried paddling my legs in the water. Madden would think I was a baby since he always swam fine.
I couldn’t have that.
So I nodded and changed into my swimsuit. He grabbed my hand when I walked into the pool house, staring at the blue water. I’d always wondered why it turned blue. Did it have color tablets like Mom and Dad put in my baths as a little kid?
It didn’t make sense but it mesmerized me nonetheless.
Madden let me go to cannonball in. “Come on, Andy!” I swallowed the lump in my throat, fear eating at my resolve. Instead of chickening out, I jumped, screaming the entire way.
Hitting the water, I sucked in and immediately choked. Under the water, I could see blurriness, a fog of blue as I coughed, trying to rise up.
But I couldn’t rise up. I didn’t wear my floaties as Roy had instructed me to. I didn’t know how to swim. In that moment of realization, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Oxygen left my lungs, stealing all coherent thought, and then it went black.
And then, it all went black.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Too Heavy – The Plot in You
Madden
I had a feeling something was off. Andy promised to text me when she arrived at her apartment and the fact that Royce was already here for her shit and she hadn’t texted made me uneasy.
I left and took my bike, needing to be there faster than possible. She didn’t live far from me, but it was still a drive.
They said in life you knew when changes would happen, it took me arriving at Andy’s to realize that time was now. The door was locked, but she gave me a spare when she came on tour. Told me she changed it because of Brandon. Fuck that guy.
He must’ve taken no for an answer, her dumping and leaving him. Him not harassing her while we were on tour kept me from having him killed—or worse—doing it myself. I spent so much time between her legs, cherishing her, making her scream, and devouring her every moan.
She was mine.
Unlocking the door, I felt the change as soon as it opened. Brandon stood over by Andy in the kitchen. She was pressed against the island as his hand gripped her throat. She didn’t struggle, her face was purple, almost blue in hue. I lost all conscious thought and rushed him. He struggled to rape her, I could see it on his face, the moment he lost all sense.
His rage was written over every fucking wrinkle on his forehead.
She didn’t move and that worried me. I swung, catching his jaw in the next hit. He stumbled, letting Andy go. I couldn’t bend down to make sure she was okay, but she looked like twelve-year-old Andy after she jumped in that goddamn pool.
She never told me she couldn’t swim that day and as I see her lifeless-looking frame, it reminded me of almost losing my best friend.
I couldn’t lose her.