Fractured Things - Samantha Lovelock Page 0,23
night? It seems like spitting on Torstens is something of a sport among us Bradleighs.” I raise my glass in a toast to her.
“What? Which other Bradleigh has been spitting on which Torsten?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise, while a grin that she’s trying admirably to hide tickles the corner of her mouth.
Whoops. I guess she never did find out about my spitting on Hali in the cafeteria.
“Oh, right. That. So, Aunty, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Chapter Seven
After witnessing her dirtbag landlord earlier firsthand, having Stella agree to come back to Folkestone with us permanently at least allowed me to breathe a bit easier. That guy deserved each fucking bruised nut and nail gouge he got, and then some. If I had my way, we would have left him rotting in a dumpster behind the sad, squat apartment building he ran, and I doubt anybody would miss him. I’m happy our feisty little Terrible Twosome proved they can handle themselves and kick some ass, but fuck if I didn’t want to skin that greasy bastard alive.
It had seemed strange when Sunday abruptly disappeared from the window, whacking her head on the frame in her haste, but we initially chalked it up to her being her. When we heard the scream though, Payne and I knew something shady was happening and booked it up to Stella’s floor. We ran down the hall not knowing exactly which unit was hers, and skidded to a stop at the open door, pausing for a millisecond to take in the scene in front of us.
Sunday clawing at the face of the shithead who wouldn’t stop squealing and moaning in pain.
Stella trapped underneath both of them and trying to squirm her way out, the movement causing her shirt to slide off both shoulders and expose her black strapless bra.
The rage flooding my senses was echoed on my best friend’s face. Both of us lunged at the same time—Payne pulling Sunday off the top of the pile and carrying her out of the way and me throwing the dirty, skinny lech out into the hall. Adrenaline pulsed through me, and it took every single ounce of control I had to not wrap my hands around his scrawny neck and snap it like a fucking twig.
My need to inflict violence doesn’t come out to play very often anymore, and it’s a side of me I’d rather Stella not see. So I tamped it down, and it’s been festering under the surface since we left that sack of shit groaning in the hallway of the building.
The thought of either one of them spending another night in that place made me crazy, and if Stella had changed her mind and refused to come back to Folkestone with us, I knew Payne and I would both be camped out in that shitty little apartment with her and Sunday, whether they wanted us there or not.
Now that we’re finally on our way to the airport, everything feels sideways and strained.
Payne and Sunday are trying their damndest to pretend there’s no sexual tension between them and are being annoyingly polite while somehow still managing to argue.
My father keeps aiming very pointed sidelong glances my way, and I know he knows I haven’t mentioned anything about my previous travels to Stella. I also know he is less than pleased by that fact.
To top it all off, Stella herself has been utterly silent since we left the diner. Turning to check on her every so often, I get glimpses of a lifetime of emotions as they flicker across her gorgeous but strained features. Her temple rests against the tinted glass of the back passenger-side window, a forlorn air smothering her natural spark.
There’s nothing I’d rather do than climb into the backseat, shove The Bickerson twins out of the way, and pull Stella onto my lap. My fingers flex on their own as I imagine digging them into her round ass and ravaging her full lips until the crushing sadness that haunts her violet eyes is gone. But I bite back the desperate urge to try to fix her. She needs to work through her demons in her own way, and I have to believe she can.
My nerves are already stretched razor-thin when we pull onto the tarmac, and the look on Stella’s face as she stares down the jet when we get out of the car tells me the fun isn’t over yet.
If she fucking bolts, I will lose my damn mind.
Sunday pulls