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I look at the screen. It’s a number I don’t know.
Normally, I wouldn’t answer an unknown number.
Especially after the creepy hang-ups months back, and the strange music always playing.
I know I shouldn’t answer it.
But I’m waiting for some information for grad school, so I really don’t have the luxury of sending any calls to voicemail.
The thought of not getting into a grad program after everything I have endured to get here is not something I want to think about, so I pick up the phone, still not convinced it isn’t one of Trent’s mouth-breathing lackeys again, trying to scare me.
“Hello,” I answer, but I’m not expecting anyone to respond, so when I hear the rough voice on the other side of the line, I stop walking.
“Payton,” a gravelly voice says.
“Yes—who is this?”
“It’s Brad.”
It takes me a few seconds to realize who Brad is, but when I do, my stomach clenches tightly.
He’s never called me before.
Why is my sister’s boyfriend calling me?
“Is everything okay with Erin?” I reply, my voice tight with dread.
The air in my lungs spills out with relief that it’s not a prank call, followed shortly by momentary panic. It’s rooted deep inside me, just from speaking to him. His mere voice sets me on edge.
“She’s fine,” he grits out, and his tone is enough to tamp down my fear and replace it with annoyance.
Typical.
The man is calling me, obviously wanting something from me, and he gives me attitude.
“Oh, okay, what can I do for you, Brad?” I’d rather do more chores for Trent than lift a single finger for Deadbeat Brad.
I also have a feeling I will not like whatever he says. It’s not just that he’s rough around the edges.
There’s something else about him that I don’t like, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s not that he’s ever hit on me, but it’s the way he looks at me. I know I’m being paranoid.
Not every man wants you, Payton.
Still. I don’t like him. I remind myself it’s okay not to love everyone I meet.
“Did you get our money?” he asks without a lick of shame.
A part of me isn’t surprised that my sister has her boyfriend doing her dirty work. Erin keeps asking and texting, looking for the money that I don’t have.
I don’t know what more I can say to her.
I tell her all the time that the moment I turn twenty-two, I’ll get it, but it doesn’t matter.
She still wants me to ask Trent for it now. I’m supposed to, according to her, tell Trent I have expenses I didn’t anticipate.
The problem is, she doesn’t know that it’s hard enough to get money from him to pay for my train tickets at this point.
I haven’t told Erin what’s going on with Trent.
I have too much going on in my life right now to deal with her on my case. Freaking out about the situation. Being all dramatic about “how this is cozy.” How she thinks I’m lying about my situation. How I cannot be trusted. How I’m the worst family she could ever ask for.
I can already hear her ranting how this isn’t fair to her.
It’s easier for me just to pretend that everything is all right and that I’ve just been busy, but I know I’m going to have to come clean and tell her that he is giving me hell.
My teeth bite down on my lower lip.
“I don’t have it,” I respond, knowing full well, Brad won’t be happy.
But I’m sick of this.
Frankly, I don’t deserve to be hounded by them when she hasn’t even bothered looking for a job.
“You gotta get that money,” he warns. I’m not sure if I’m imagining the threat there, but it puts me on edge. “We need it now, dammit.”
I flinch at the tone of his voice, but I steady mine and respond, “It’s not that simple, Brad.”
“Make it that simple.” I hear his pants. Like he’s pacing. Working himself up. “Your sister is driving me insane. She’s freaking out.”
“What is the cash for?”
“Our fucking bills,” he spits out. The panting intensifies. If anything, he should use that money on a trip to the doctor’s. That doesn’t sound healthy at all. “I already told you once, Payton, and I ain’t telling you shit again.”
They told me the same thing when I was at their place, but I am still cautious. Honestly, I don’t believe a thing that comes out of either of their mouths. Ever.
“How does Erin not have any money left?”
“Not everyone is living in the laps of luxury, little princess.”
When Brad says that nickname, it feels like spiders are crawling up my arm. Although it rubs me the wrong way when Trent says it, it’s nothing like when Brad does. Trent might hate me, but Brad makes it sound dirty.
“There is no part of me that is a princess, and you of all people should know that,” I snap. Inhaling, I forge on, “You’ll get the money for the utility bills, but it won’t be three grand. I’ll call you when I have what I can get. Pass that on to Erin.”
