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ELEVEN
Istepped inside Brayden’s house. I didn’t even consider this place home anymore. I was always over at Bailey’s these days.
Melanie was on the couch, her feet tucked under her as she watched TV. She glanced up at me. “Everything okay?”
I didn’t say anything. She and I used to be close, but now, she was all up Brayden’s ass—thought he hung the moon—and she barely existed outside of Trent. She was so desperate for a man to love her that she didn’t even care he was neglecting her for his little sister.
But I was all for anyone helping Bailey, so honestly, Trent could neglect my older sister all he wanted. Besides, she had a number of men waiting to take his place if he ever got tired of her and dumped her.
I walked through the house, the sound of Brayden working out in the basement reaching my ears. I jogged lightly down the steps, and he looked up at my entrance.
“Finally pulled yourself away from my girl long enough to come have this damn talk you want to have?” he demanded.
My girl. I wanted to punch him in his face for that shit.
“Not your girl anymore,” I calmly told him. “Never was, as far as I’m fucking concerned.”
His lips tilted up in a smirk. I just evenly met his gaze, not finding anything about this amusing. “Guess she didn’t tell you we fucked, did she?”
This time, I did find something amusing. My own smirk twisted my lips. “Yeah, she did, and then, I fucked her.” His expression darkened, the smug look falling from his face. “Made sure I darkened all those hickeys you left on her while I was at it, too. She didn’t want you, Brayden. She was a fucking miserable mess yesterday because of what you two fucking did together.”
He shrugged and turned to grab a weight, now too pissed to care about what I had to say. “She fucking agreed to screw.”
I snatched him by his shoulder, swinging him around to face me. “You can’t tell when a woman isn’t fucking into you?” I snarled. “You’re supposed to be interning at a goddamn therapy clinic, and you can’t tell when someone is fucking suffering? You can’t tell when someone is using you to just fucking distract themselves?” I asked him.
Fucker had to be the worst damn therapist I’d ever fucking come across.
He shoved his hands off of me. I barely resisted punching him. “She agreed to fuck you because she felt like she fucking owed you something, you dipshit!” I barked at him. His face paled, reality finally setting in. “You were the one fucking person that made her feel somewhat normal—didn’t fucking look at her and try to save her because you don’t know what the fuck she’s going through!” I shoved him, fucking getting pissed now. “Stay the fuck away from her, Brayden,” I snapped, pointing my finger at him. “I fucking mean it. End things with her, you hear me? I’m doing everything I fucking can to save her from herself, and this dumb ass shit you two have going on is making things worse. I won’t let you be the thing that fucking kills her.”
With that, I stormed back up the stairs, slamming the basement door shut behind me.
* * *
I staredup at the stars, indulging in something I hadn’t indulged in a long time: a fucking cigarette. I needed something. I was too damn worked up after my confrontation with Brayden to go back to Bailey. She didn’t need to see me like this. I was afraid it would trigger her.
Trent said she had been sleeping most of the day anyway, so I was thankful for that. Her dreams seemed to be more peaceful than her reality at the moment.
“Fuck are you doing out here?”
I jerked into a sitting position, staring at my oldest brother. Steven was twenty-eight, and he was built like a fucking freight train, though you wouldn’t know it by how softly he walked.
He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, a leather jacket on over his shoulders. “You’re home?” I stupidly asked, honestly surprised to see him.
He shrugged a shoulder and leaned against my truck to take some pressure off his injured leg. Three months ago, he’d received a bullet to the thigh. After healing and a couple of months of physical therapy, he still wasn’t the same.
“Guess the board decided to let you go?” I asked, putting my cigarette out.
He nodded, looking away from me for a moment. “Leg still isn’t fucking working properly,” he grunted. “Can’t run like I used to. Shit’s over.”
I jumped down from the back of the truck and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “I’m sorry about that, bro.” And I meant that. I knew how much being part of the military meant to him. He’d busted his ass to become a SEAL, and now, that was taken from him.
He sighed. “Such is life,” he grumbled.
My phone went off in my hand before I could say something, Bailey’s name on the screen. I instantly picked it up, pulling my phone to my ear. “Yeah, babe?” I asked, my tone soft. Steven arched a brow at me.
“You didn’t come back,” she mumbled, her voice husky with sleep.
I smiled softly, aware of my brother’s eyes on me, but I didn’t care. “I’m on my way now,” I told her as I moved away from the tailgate. Steven lifted it for me. “Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be there, yeah? You ate yet?”
