{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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To the naked eye, Luke Hadaway seemed relatively harmless as he sat there at Caroline's kitchen counter.
He fit into the scene well. I supposed he'd gotten good at that—fitting in. With his long hair, bearded face, and casual clothes, he looked like he was just an afternoon visitor, sitting down for a cup of coffee.
He didn't exactly look like a murderer, and I understood why Brodie's mom didn't think twice about inviting him into her home.
"I suspected that the conversation I had with Brodie this morning would push him over the edge," Luke said, apparently reading my mind. A smirk appeared on his face, and I internally took back the comment on him not looking like a murderer. "Figured he might come clean with you. Poor, conflicted kid."
Luke's smile grew, revealing how he really felt about manipulating Brodie Thompson.
"Brodie?" Bren questioned. His brows furrowed together as he trained his gaze on his dad.
Luke tossed an arm lazily over the back of the chair next to him. "I had a little arrangement with him. So I could keep an eye on this girl you're so invested in."
"You had an arrangement with his mom, too," I said sharply.
Bren's fist clenched. His jaw ticked. All I wanted to do was cross the room, to be there for him. But I didn't dare make a move. I didn't dare do anything that would cause Luke to pull his gun out again.
"How many women are you conning, Luke?" Bren asked in a low voice.
I frowned. There were others?
"It isn't a con," Luke replied, and I could barely stomach the earnest way he spoke. "I believe every relationship should serve a greater purpose. I think a lot of people would agree with me on that."
"Yeah," Bren said dryly. "But I think their idea of a purpose and yours is much different."
"I would have to agree," Caroline added bitterly.
The anguish on her face was palpable. Every feature twisted in a way that I'd never expected to see on her usually soft expression. It surprised me. She was more than simply frightened; she seemed mad.
"And what greater purpose did your relationship with mom serve?" Bren shot at Luke, who immediately shook his head.
"There wasn't one," he responded simply. "That was the problem. I loved her, but I resented her weakness."
"You made her that way, dad." Bren's lip curled as he emphasized the last word. The pain in his eyes tore at my heart. "You broke her down. You manipulated her into that role."
Luke shook his head again. "You don't get it," he said.
The sharp anger in his words put me on edge. I grew rigid. Beau squeezed my arm.
