{18+ COMPLETE} For the past three years, Bren Hadaway has been preparing to die.
When he was sixteen, he watched his dad murder his mom. And ever since, he's been counting down the days until it was his turn to be at the end of a gun. And Bren has...
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"Bren..."
She said my name like I was overreacting.
But if I had done more to take care of Quinton, we never would have been in that situation at the bar. I never would have had to stand there, waiting to die while he tried to squeeze the life out of Madie.
I didn't know what I would do to Brodie Thompson, but I wasn't about to walk away without doing something.
"Bren," she repeated, and my eyes flicked up to hers.
Her hair had begun to dry slightly, curling around the soft frame of her face. Her gaze was wide, and I could see every shade of blue in it.
She was such a fucking angel. How the hell did these demons keep getting their hands on her?
"It's taken care of," she said, bringing me out of my thoughts.
I squinted a bit—as if my vision was the problem here. "What does that mean?"
"He hasn't bothered me since that day."
"Okay, but is he still breathing?"
"Bren." Madie sighed. And I wasn't sure what it was about that sigh, but it made me grind my teeth. "Yes, Brodie's still breathing," she said. "But Hale kicked him out of his class after he walked in on the whole thing."
My eyes narrowed further. "Hale?"
"My Western Civ professor. The one..." Madie trailed off.
But I was able to pick it up for her. "The one downstairs? With his arm around you?"
Madie's eyes had a little flicker of exasperation as she nodded.
Leaning back in the tub, I mulled that over for a second before saying, "First name basis, huh?"
This time, the exasperation that flashed across her face wasn't slight. "He asks all the students to call him that. And he got Brodie in a ton of trouble for what he did and was really nice to me when I needed it."
I held my tongue. Because I was conflicted as fuck. Was I thankful that someone had been there to help her? Of course, I was. I was so goddamn grateful for that.
But all I could see was Hale leaning over to whisper in Madie's ear downstairs.
"Earlier, he was checking in to make sure that Brodie hadn't been bothering me," Madie said, interrupting my internal brooding.
My anger twisted. Because I realized it wasn't the first name, or the nice gestures, or the downstairs whispering that bothered me. It was the fact that someone else had been there for Madie when I wasn't.
I should have been there. I should have fucking been there. And if she would have told me about this when it happened, that would have been the only thing on my mind.
