37. Who the fuck nearly killed my fucking daughter?

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Okay so this is going to be another chapter on Brett's work, so enjoy getting to know more about him. I sure as hell am. :)

Please vote and comment, it helps me a lot. Gives me the motivation i need lately.

Third Person POV

"I'm ready daddy.", Charlotte says being the first to leave the house and head over to Brett's car. Brett and Olivia were taking Charlotte to the beach today, whilst Kelly stayed at home with Kyle and Lucy.

Olivia and Brett followed Charlotte out of the house, following her to the car.

Olivia was the first one to open a door.

Brett froze in his skin, hearing a familiar click, which wasn't the sound of the door opening. His eyes widened when the realisation hit, and he reached for his daughter immediately.

"Olivia, bomb. Run!", He yelled, pulling his daughter to his chest and running back towards the house, Olivia beside him. 

And just as they reached the front door, the car blew up into flames.  Olivia screamed and Charlotte cried into her dads chest, holding onto him for dear life.

Brett looked back towards the car, breathing heavily. His eyes wide still with shock and surprise - but the one question on his mind was... Who the hell would want him dead?

And the only answer he could think of was those bastards from down North — they must've followed them home last night and planted it then.

He held his daughter tighter to his chest, fear seeping into his bones when he realised that he could've lost her.

And then his eyes find Olivia, who was staring at the car on fire, and he realised he could've lost her too.

Whoever was behind this... they were dead already.

Brett's POV

Three hours later

Drinking my glass of whiskey, I stare across the table at Callum and another one of his men - Jack, I think his name is.

I hadn't said anything yet to them...

I'd just invited them to my pub, and here we were, sitting and just staring at one another. I had no idea how to go about this...

What if it wasn't them?

What if it was?

"I'm glad that you could have this meeting with me.",  I mutter, glancing between the two skinny men. Both of them dipped their heads as a sign of respect and acknowledgement.

I dare these bastards to fuck me about.

"This morning my car blew up into flames, it was planted with a bomb.", I state casually, keeping my tone calm and voice low - it was difficult. Usually, control came easy for me, but the rage i felt for whoever did this was consuming me at a rapid rate.

The two men stayed silent, eyes wide with fear.

"It wouldn't happen to have been any of your men?", I ask, sipping my whiskey. "And before you lie and start fucking me about, I suggest you get really fucking honest really quick.", I set my glass down on the table lightly.

"That bomb nearly killed my fucking daughter.", I growl, thinking about Charlotte and Olivia. I couldn't say her name though, I couldn't. "So...", I sigh, relaxing my shoulders and leaning back in my seat.

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