the bet → brad simpson | ✓

24

"Get in the car, Brad!" Anne screams and I was scared for my life. Nat was stood by me as she, too, watched Anne shouting at Brad to get in the taxi.

"I am mum, calm the fuck down," he rolls his eyes, opening the taxi door and slamming it shut a moment later. Even in this situation, his voice was calm yet annoyed, and it made me wonder if he actually cared about getting a beating off of his mom.

"The cheek of this boy!" Anne shakes her head, turning to us. "Are you sure you girls don't want to stay here with your dad?"

"We're sure," Nat answers for us both, knowing that I wouldn't go back in by myself. We both get into the car, me sitting in between Brad and Nat.

Brad had his arm holding his face as he stared out of the window, looking fairly tired and gloomy. Somehow, Evan had punched him and Brad had a bruise forming under his eye.

That was nothing compared to Evan's busted lip and equally as nasty bruise under his left eye.

I rip my gaze from Brad and to the road ahead, lights flashing by. The radio crackled, breaking the silence. Anne was on her phone and Nat was falling asleep.

When we soon arrive at the hotel, Brad is the first one out, slamming the door shut behind him as he walks up to the room. I climb out after Nat, who waits for Anne as she pays.

"Me and my mum are gonna go to the bar to get some drinks. Wanna come?" Nat asks but I shake my head.

Firstly, I was tired, since it was in the middle of the night. Secondly, I wanted to make sure Brad was okay, and to possibly calm him down.

We all go our separate ways—me to the elevator and Nat and Anne to the bar around the corner. I patiently wait for the elevator to arrive, getting on with an old couple who had a smile on their faces the whole journey, which I couldn't help and smile back at.

I knock on the hotel door as soon as I reach it, and it took a few minutes before Brad eventually opened the door for me.

"Thanks," I say through a yawn, throwing myself into the bed. It was so comfy and cool and I didn't want to leave it to get a shower and changed.

"Are you not getting a shower?" He asks, and I yawn and sit up. Jesus, I was tired.

"Yeah, just gimme a minute," I say. He was definitely still moody, even though he seemed to try and disguise it. He walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in.

"Just be quiet, then, I wanna go to sleep."

I don't bother replying as I go straight to the bathroom, stripping out of my dress and unpinning my hair so it fell in puffy curls to my shoulders.

I get into the shower and the warm shower comforts me, yet makes me more tired. It took me fifteen minutes to eventually get out and dry myself off.

And then I realise I forgot my clothes.

I curse, wrapping a towel around my body and unlocking the bathroom door and opening it slightly. Brad was sat on the bed on his phone, typing away quickly.

"Um, Brad?" I say, pulling his attention away from his phone as he slowly looked over to me, raising an eyebrow. "Could you pass me my pyjamas?"

"Can't you get them yourself?" He huffs, putting his phone on charge next to the bed.

"I'm in a towel," I reply with an eye roll. With that, he sighs again and sits up, grabbing my pyjamas. "Could you grab some underwear, too?"

"What did your last slave die of?" He snarks and hands me some underwear and pyjamas nonetheless.