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Chapter1
My Best Friend’s Daughter
Fletcher Sweeney
Iwatch Brittany approach that annoying, shady motherfucker Rob Wheeler for the third time this week. Even in a modest dress, Brittany turns heads. Her white cardigan billows around her as she walks over to Rob with a flirtatious smile on her face. Since she was a little girl, she always dressed up for church, sometimes making my best friend Harry late because she couldn’t decide on a pair of shoes or fluffy socks. My stomach lurches as I watch her.
What the fuck does she want with Rob Wheeler?
She’s not wearing fluffy socks or Minnie Mouse Mary Jane shoes anymore. No sir, Brittany is all grown up, about 5’11” tall, and every dress highlights her silhouette, even a flowing, church-appropriate floral dress like this one. My cheeks redden as she tilts her head to the side, waving at Rob and pushing a cascade of bouncy curls away from her round brown face.
Brittany Reddick doesn’t know how closely I look out for her, but her dad looked out for me when I was an idiot kid becoming my best friend when I was ready to give up on my fucking life. Her dad is the reason I became a cop and I owe him. Rob waves back and a knot tightens in my stomach. They can’t be friends, can they? Or worse… Is she interested in him?
Brittany waves back and flicks a thick handful of black curls behind her shoulders. Her hair hangs in a thick mass of coils to the middle of her back. Two clear hair clips hold her hair out of her face and she gazes up at Rob with nothing but pure admiration that makes me sick.
She’s the worst kind of twenty-something — she doesn’t know how fucking pretty she is and or how naïve she is. Men take advantage of women like that, especially men like Rob who smooth talk their way into trouble just as easily as they talk themselves out of it. He’s classically handsome, but also classically unemployed. I’ve seen him in the shadiest parts of town or speeding down Route 281 in a piece of crap F-150 littered in controversial political stickers.
What the fuck does she see in this guy?
I grit my teeth as Brittany talks to him, smiling more and glancing down at her modest white high heels. He looks up from his phone, giving Brittany a semi-annoyed half-smirk. He enjoys her obvious crush, but it’s clear he doesn’t return her feelings – at least to me. Brittany looks oblivious. I sidle closer to them, filling up a cup of theDunkin’hot chocolate the church ladies set up in the basement for us.
“Hey Britt,” Rob says.
“Hey. Did you listen to the playlist I sent you?” she asks, rocking on her heels nervously. Does that twerp seriously make her nervous? He should be fucking grateful he gets to stand in the same room as Britt Reddick.
“Nope. Didn’t have time,” Rob says coolly. He glances at his cellphone, sends three more text messages and then gives her a confused, disinterested look. Her visible disappointment sends prickles of fury through me. Why is she talking to a scumbag like Rob Wheeler?
“Oh. That’s cool,” Brittany says, undeterred. “A bunch of us are going over to Green Lakes to hike this weekend. Wanna come?”
Rob grins, raking his fingers through his hair. “I dunno, Britt…”
“Never mind,” she says. “I get it. It’s cool.”
She sips on her water bottle as Rob quickly changes the subject to his upcoming trip to Ann Arbor with a few of the other guys from church.
“Don’t be like that,” Rob says. “We’ll hang out. I promise.”
Brittany nods. “Yeah. Sure.”
I can’t keep watching this. Before I can get a hold of myself and not be so dumb as to get involved in a situation with Harry’s kid of all people, I stride over there and stick my hand out to that Wheeler kid.
“Hey Rob. Hey Brittany. Did you enjoy the service?”
Who the fuck enjoyed the service? I’m at this church because I’m a cop and that’s what cops in this town do. You show up to church, you shake hands, you make sure your best friend’s daughter doesn’t make a fool of herself with the town player who’s been stringing her on for the past year and a half.
Brittany nods. She can’t hide her disappointment about that dick, but she has no business losing her mind over a little shit like Rob Wheeler. His older brother was in my year at our high school and he was a fucking asshole too.
“The service was great, Officer Sweeney,” Rob says, his face turning red. He makes an excuse and stumbles off. Brittany turns to me with a scowl. She’s ten years younger than me, but she looks even younger than that. She has smooth honey-colored skin and dark brown eyes as round as fucking saucers, and right now those brown eyes are glaring at me.
“Hi, Fletcher. Why exactly are you here? I was talking to Rob.”
Rob Wheeler is a fucking tool who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same oxygen as Brittany Reddick.
“What would your dad think about you talking to that idiot?”
“He would hopefully mind his business,” Brittany says quickly.
She’s already on the defensive. Great. I try to calm her down, “Brittany…”
