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Frank gave a faint chuckle and picked up the styrofoam cup behind him. “Brett, this is Al. Al this is Brett. He has a habit of stalking young girls and fucking up their cars, so they're stranded.”
Al folded his arms across his chest and relayed a saggy smile. “Is that so? You like em’ young too?”
“Is that a problem?” I waited for Al to answer, but he sliced his gaze to the greasy floor and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “So, how do you know Frank?”
“He’s my brother.”
I winged a brow and shared a glance between the both of them. Their lips remained in a hard line, a beat of silence passing between the three of us before Frank let out a breath.
“Didn’t know you had a brother.”
“You never asked.” He shrugged and took another sip from the cup. “Is your truck out front?”
I nodded, and he brushed past me. I’ve known Frank for over twenty years, and not once had he ever mentioned a brother. The only family he talked about was the one he lost ten years ago. His wife and son died in a freak car accident.
“Do you live and work around here?” I asked Al as I waited for Frank to hook up Cora’s car to the back of my truck.
He pressed his lips into a fine line and tilted his head to the side. “No. I live in Chicago, and I own a bar. I spend my days listening to grown men whine. So, you fancy the young ones hmm?”
His words were tainted in skepticism, but before I could explain myself, Frank’s voice rounded the corner. I thanked him and climbed back into my truck. Pausing to check the time on my dashboard, my mouth went dry. It was already an hour past noon, and although I had Cora all to myself for the next couple of hours as we drove back, the reality of facing Dylan made me want to vomit.
CHAPTER15
Hard Truths~Cora
It waslike all the happiness that Brett embodied evaporated from his body when he took the heavy bags from my grasp. I walked through the small cabin once more and blew out my cheeks as I fidgeted with the key.Some vacation this was.We packed up, and the engine to his truck roared, leaving a cyclone of dust behind us as he sped down the dirt road.
His truck was strong enough to tow my little green goblin back, and I was thankful I didn’t have to drive alone with my thoughts in shit traffic. Brett tried to calm his nerves, but his repeated tapping of the steering wheel wasn’t helping. A magnifying glass wasn’t needed to see the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He had every reason to be nervous, but so did I. How did one tell their father that their best friend of thirty something years took their daughter's virginity? I nestled against the cool leather, nuzzling my head on the headrest. Brett kept his eyes on the road, shifting his body every so often.
“Geez, I thought I’d never get you to shut up.” I twisted a strand of hair around my finger before sticking my tongue out in his direction.Very child-like. Just like Daddy hated.
"I’m just thinking, baby girl. Why? You worried?”
“What are you thinking about?” I pried as I folded my arms across my chest.
He teetered his head from side to side and revealed that dangerous grin. “Oh, ya know. Just picturing you on your knees holding on to your unicorn stuffed animal as you choke on my cock.” His voice, an octave lower, almost as if he did it on purpose, made goose bumps break out across my body.
“I know that’s not all you’re thinking about,” I pestered.
He cleared his throat and placed his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you’re right.”
Intertwining my fingers with his, I tracked the pad of my pointer finger over the highway of veins protruding from his skin. I’ve known Brett my whole life, but this was the first time I'd seen him in a vulnerable state. After he left town I stalked him on social media. The guy with the penthouse in downtown LA who had his pick of the ladies. The guy who always wore a sinister grin with a dash of swagger in his step. But in this moment, he wasn’t that guy.
He was the man who took my virginity and showed me just how beautiful I was. He was the man who stole my heart in twenty-four hours, and I was determined to let him keep it.
“Dylan…” I squeezed his hand, forcing his eyes to mine.
He raised a brow, and the corner of his lip curled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call your dad by his first name.”
“It’s just a name.” Shrugging, I tugged the water bottle out of the holder.
“Yeah. Well, I guess it’s all good unless your name is Brett.” A nervous chuckle oozed off his lips as he scratched the edge of his chin.
“Is Dy— I mean, Dad—is his reason for being mad at you a legit one?”
“What did Dylan—“
“I don’t care what he told me all these years. What happened, Brett?” I interjected.
