Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard 1)

Her eyes snap to the image and her brows furrow before turning her furious stare back on mine. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she demands, pushing her way out of the shower and adjusting the towel around herself, boiling with fury. “You come storming in here, bust into my bathroom with absolutely no regard for my privacy just to ask me if I have a boyfriend? Are you that fucking insecure?”

What a fucking joke. Insecure? Me? She clearly hasn’t been paying attention, and if I weren’t so pissed off, maybe I’d let her know, but not now. I step into her, the rage taking control as my gaze darkens, knowing just how intimidating I can be. Hell, the shit I’ve put her through is nothing compared to what I’ll do if I find out she’s been playing me. “Is Colby Jacobs your fucking boyfriend, Brielle. Yes or no?”

“No,” she grunts, slamming her hand against my shoulder and forcing me back a step. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Was he ever your boyfriend?”

“What does it matter?” she demands, storming out of the bathroom and into the closet, grabbing a dressing gown and pulling it on over her towel and tying it firmly at her waist. “Better yet,” she continues as I follow her into the closet and watch her rip the towel out from beneath the robe. “How is it any of your goddamn business? After you just left me in the woods last night with some bullshit comment about destroying me, you now think you can come in here and ask me bullshit like this? I know you’re used to swinging your dick around and getting whatever you want, but it’s not about to happen here. I’m done with your shit.”

“I swear to God, Brielle, just answer the fucking question.”

Bri storms out of the closet, completely missing the fact that the attic above her head is wide open, giving away all of my secrets. “Look,” she says. “Whatever you think was between us, it’s over. The messages on the mirror were cute, but you’re crossing so many lines coming in here like this. This is not okay, so fuck off before I find someone to remove you.”

“You think I want to be here right now?” I spit. “I will happily fuck off, but unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere until you answer my fucking question.”

Brielle groans and spins around, shooting me with a lethal stare that could rival one of my own. “You’re such a fucking prick,” she says, moving to her door and hastily unlocking it. “Get the fuck out, now.”

I storm across her room, slamming the door shut and throwing her up against it. “Answer the fucking question. How long were you with him?”

Fear rattles her and for the first time, my dick doesn’t get hard seeing her eyes widen. “We got together late February and were hot and heavy for a few months. I wanted to break up with him before the summer, but next thing I know, school was starting and he’s still hanging off me like a bad smell. I broke up with him last weekend when I caught him fucking someone else at a party.”

“You were with him right up until last weekend?”

“What the fuck is this about, Tanner?” she demands, shoving me off her and moving to the furthest corner of the room, keeping away from me as she crosses her arms and glares daggers at me. “You don’t strike me as the jealous type, and don’t even think about telling me that you wanted to be the only asshole to ever touch me. I’m not about to apologize for having a past. God knows you’ve probably already slept your way through every girl at school. Not that it should matter because you’ll never fucking touch me again after this bullshit.”

“Fucking hell, Brielle. This has nothing to do with you and me and everything to do with him.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she demands. “You’re going to have to give me a little more context than that.”

I reach my boiling point and storm toward her again, gripping her arm as I press her back up against the wall, hating how just being so close to her calms me while also sending my emotions into a fucking tailspin. “Your boyfriend is the reason my sister is in the fucking hospital, breathing through a goddamn tube. Tell me you didn’t fucking know.”

Her hands fly up to mine, gripping my fingers and prying them from her skin. “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t even know who your sister is.”

I know I shouldn’t tell her, shouldn’t share what isn’t mine to tell, but the words pour out of me before I get a chance to stop them. “He drugged my sister and raped her, left her for fucking dead at a party six weeks ago, all while you were shacked up with the fucking bastard.”