Home > Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard #1)(64)

Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard #1)(64)
Author: Sheridan Anne

I nod, getting it. “I kinda figured as much.”

“Yep,” he says. “That day at brunch when I was staring at you, I wanted you to fear me. I did the same thing to your mom, but she was too caught up doting on my father while he paid her absolutely no attention. No offense, but the woman is kinda daft. That’s beside the point, though. I wanted you both to feel uneasy about moving in here, but it clearly didn’t work. Your mom was all too eager to throw you to the wolves, even after I followed you into the bathroom.”

“That was fucked up by the way.”

He laughs. “I consider it some of my best work,” he says, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “You were freaked out and wary about being here, and at first, I think your mom was too, but anything my father says is religion to her.”

Letting out a sigh, I meet his stare. “Okay, here’s the deal,” I tell him. “You and I don’t have to be friends, we don’t even have to acknowledge each other when we’re here, but I’ll chill on the bitchy attitude if you promise to keep being normal.”

“Sounds good, sis.”

My hands slam down on the counter only to find the asshole smirking back at me. “I swear to God, Jensen Channing, call me sis one more time and I’ll shove a ten-inch dildo up your ass and pull it out through your throat.”

He gets up from the table and drops his plate in the sink. “I’d like to see you try,” and with that, he’s gone, leaving his plate staring back at me. I scowl at it. Did the asshole not see me cleaning the kitchen and filling the dishwasher? Am I invisible or is he just an entitled, rich kid who assumes everyone else is going to clean up after him?

Out of principle, I leave the plate in the sink and make my way back up to my room, determined not to allow the day to go to waste. I get myself dressed, and as I’m pulling on a shirt, something on the ceiling captures my attention.

My gaze lifts to find a small piece of the ceiling slightly sitting out of place and realize it’s access into the roof, like some kind of crawl space.

That asshole.

I saw Tanner come in through my closet last night but hadn’t taken a moment to understand how he was making it happen. It’s bugged me for the past two weeks, especially after making a point of locking both the windows and the door. I never would have guessed that he was coming in through the ceiling. I mean, how did he even work that out?

I finish getting dressed when I hear the familiar beep of my phone, and I hurry across my room to scoop it off my bedside table. There’s a slew of unread texts, most of them from the girls, checking in and making sure everything is okay.

Quickly scanning through them and responding to what I can, I come to my latest message—a text from Erica.

I open it and scan over it before my stomach turns to lead. I force myself to read it again, pain paralyzing me.

 

Erica - What the fuck, Brielle? You had your new boyfriend beat the shit out of Colby? What a low fucking blow. I told you he didn’t do it and now look at what you’ve done. Those rich assholes are changing you. Where’s your fucking loyalty? He was just going there to talk to you because you keep skipping out on his texts. It’s one thing to humiliate him for cheating on you, but this? Really, Brielle? You’re not who I thought you were.

 

What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck?

 

 

Chapter 30

 

 

TANNER

 

 

One message sent around the student body is all it took to ensure every last video of me beating the shit out of Colby Jacobs was deleted. Don’t get me wrong, I know there’s bound to be someone who’s going to hold on to it for safekeeping, but it’ll never see the light of day.

Leaving Brielle’s bed this morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I wanted nothing more than to lay with her all day, feeling her head resting against my chest as she slept, feeling her tight little body pressed up against mine, but there was shit to do.

I’ve had cops on my doorstep, questioning me about Colby and demanding answers, but with so little information, they walked away. Colby apparently woke in the early hours of the morning and refused to speak, but he’d be wise not to open his damn mouth because that’s only going to draw attention to the reason why I felt so obliged to break his fucking jaw.

Not going to lie, a part of me had hoped the fucker would have suffered more. Perhaps a coma and ventilator would have sedated the need for vengeance living inside me, but nothing, not even my fists can change what happened that night. Nothing will ever take away Addie’s suffering, the torment and memories she’ll wake to remember. If she wakes up at all.

The moment the cops left, the boys were here, going over everything and making sure that I wasn’t about to spiral out of control. Hudson explained how he’d camped out on the property overnight, watching as the ambulance showed up and delivered first aid. Colby was out cold, but he was alive, and despite needing that to have been the outcome, it didn’t offer me any relief.

Riley, Logan, and Jax left late last night, assuming I’d passed out, but I laid in my bed, unable to sleep and glancing through Bri’s window, finding her just as lost as I felt. I couldn’t resist heading over there.

It’s been a long fucking day, and the killer hangover isn’t helping. I tried to work it out down in my home gym, but my mind kept going back to last night, kept telling me that I should have stayed just a moment longer, should have delivered just one more punch. No amount of broken bones will ever make up for what he did to Addie.

It’s well past dinner time when I finally head up to my room, desperate to sleep it off, only my first grin all day cracks across my face.

 

SCARED? OF A BITCH LIKE YOU? DON’T BE RIDICULOUS!

I’VE SEEN MY GRANDMOTHER THROW HARDER PUNCHES THAN THAT!

 

 

How the fuck does she do it? Even on my worst day, she has me grinning like a fucking idiot. I can’t help but make my way across my room and open my window, finding Bri alone in her room, books spread out over her bed as she annihilates her homework.

Her window is cracked just a sliver and I call out. “Hey, Killer.”

Bri’s head snaps up, her eyes coming to mine. “Ugh, it’s you,” she says, keeping a straight face, only her hungry eyes give away the thrill shooting through her body. “It’s only been a day and you’re already desperate for my attention. I didn’t pin you as the stage-five-clinger type.”

“Shut the fuck up and get your ass over here. I’m ordering in.”

A brilliant smile spreads across her face and she all but launches herself off her bed and crosses to her window. “I want it stated for the record that I’m coming over for food, not because I want to see you.”

I grin back at her, hating how fucking obvious I’m being. “Noted.”

Bri closes her window, and after one last glance toward me, she dashes out of her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I make my way downstairs, and by the time I’m at the door, Bri is already dashing across the front lawn. When she glances up and sees me here waiting, she slows her pace, trying not to appear so excited about spending the night with me.

I lean against the open doorframe, watching as she moves toward me, her eyes locked on mine. She steps into me, and as I go to reach for her, she catches my hand instead, holding it up to look over my cracked knuckles. They should probably be bandaged, but when I’m working out a red-hot rage in the gym, the bandages only slow me down.

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