Bradford Brawler (Bradford Bastard 2)

We end this tonight.

With Hudson out for the second half of the game, the girls utilized his knowledge on cars, and after slipping into the visitor’s locker room and stealing Colby’s bag—containing his phone, wallet, and keys—they were able to fuck with that car enough to make sure the asshole could never afford to fix it. That car isn’t going anywhere fast, and that’s the exact distraction we need.

The parking lot cleared out ten minutes ago, and we even went as far as driving our own cars out just to let the fucker think he was in the clear after our win tonight. But he should know better. When you fuck with me or mine, I won’t rest until you’re in the ground.

Roxten leans over the open hood of the Charger, braced against the cold metal while shaking his head as Colby paces back and forth in anger, kicking the tires every chance he gets. As he roars his frustrations, a grin kicks up the corners of my lips. This is going to be the best fun I’ve ever had.

Despite how badly they wanted to stay for the show, we kicked the girls out of here twenty minutes ago. I know Bri deserves to see this after everything she’s been through, but she’ll have to be okay with the fact it happened. I couldn’t live with myself knowing she saw me like that. It’s not going to be pretty, it’ll be brutal and animalistic, but I have to do this for Addison and every other woman or girl this motherfucker has touched.

Swinging the baseball bat, it comes around in a perfect 360 before the metal shaft drops into my open palm. “You boys ready?” I ask, not bothering to look across at them, knowing damn well they wear the same expression I do.

“It’s now or never,” Hudson says, his tone filled with venom. “They called the tow company twenty minutes ago. We get in and get it done before anyone sees. If someone comes, we bail. Drop the fuckers and run, no questions asked. We’re not going down for this.”

“Agreed,” Logan says. “Let’s do this.”

Without another word, we pull our masks down and step out of the shadows.

We have the silence and stealth of cats in the night until the very last moment when finally, we pounce. We make our way down to the student parking lot completely unnoticed. Roxten and Colby keep their backs to us, talking shit about how they’re going to fuck me up, and it’s cool, it doesn’t bother me. But the moment I hear Addison’s pretty name fall from his lips, he seals his fate.

We step up behind them, making a circle around them, leaving no way out but through us.

I rear back with my Louisville Slugger, preparing for the best batting practice of my life. I hold my position, a trick I’ve stolen from Jax over the years because let’s face it, the prick is all for the dramatics. Not being the kind of man to drop someone with their back turned, I let him know his time is up.

“Hello motherfuckers,” I say, mimicking that ridiculous sound from TikTok. Colby and Roxten whip around at the same time I swing the bat, letting the cool metal smash into the side of Colby’s face. A loud crack sounds through the night as Jax and Hudson don’t wait to jump Roxten.

Colby goes to fall, but I push into him, shoving him up against the side of his Charger for easy access. Grinning like a fucking maniac, I toss the bat to Logan, wanting to use my hands for every second of this. I want to feel his heart racing beneath my palm, feel his blood beneath my nails and know that this is the best kind of justice Addie might ever get.

Colby shakes off the hit, though there’s no mistaking just how disoriented he is, or the fact he’s rocking a brand-new broken jaw. He tries to shove me back, but the blow to his face weakened him, and I easily overpower his bitch ass. “You like that, don’t you?” I mock taking another swing to the exact same spot on his jaw. “You like when they can’t fight back.”

Colby cries out, falling forward and gripping his face in agony. “I’ll fuck you up, asshole,” Colby spits, blood staining his teeth.

A barking laugh tears from my throat, listening to the sweet sounds of Roxten Hargrove being jumped. “I’m right here, motherfucker. This is what you wanted, right? Come at me. Give it your best shot.”

Colby tries to swing, but I take a step to the left, watching as the momentum of his missed hit sends him spinning to the ground. He drops to his knees and tries to pull himself up by gripping the side of his Charger, and even with the cover of darkness, the blue paint from Brielle’s Honda catches my eye and sends a wave of fire pulsing through my veins.