Page 122 of Broken by my Bully
Ezra looks almost exactly like that meme of the little blond girl in her car seat, with his lip raised until his too-white teeth catch the light. “It’s the middle of the day. And the middle of the week.”
“Bro. Bro!” I lunge forward, but he steps deftly aside and I almost faceplant when I miss the sleeve of his pastel yellow polo shirt with the popped collar.
Do you have to iron them that way, or does he buy them already popped?
“We’re in fuckingcollege!” I roar, ducking to grab my half-empty bottle of Jäger. “The fuck we care what time it is?”
He holds up a hand when I try to press the bottle into his chest, shoving it back at me hard enough to send me sprawling onto the bed.
I start laughing, because thank God the mattress broke my fall, and then I can’t stop, because,well, weed.
“Glad you’re happy,” Ezra says dryly. “That slut was seriously messing with your mood.”
…look at me when I use you…
Setting my beer down, then carefully putting my dead roach in the makeshift ashtray I created out of a dented beer can, I screw off the Jäger’s lid and take a swig.
“You must be ecstatic she’s gone.” My brother’s voice moves with him as he prowls through my room like he’s taking careful note of every discarded sweet packet, beer can, or crusty sock.
I’m not usually a pig. But it’s hard to think about cleaning when all I can think about is how fragile and slender and warm and smooth Haven’s neck felt in my fingers as I tried to crush the life out of?—
Fuck!
“Goddamn slut,” Ezra says. “Thought she could fuck half the football team and you wouldn’t find out about it.”
I stare at the bottle of Jäger, start circling my wrist to make the booze swish around inside. “Yeah,” I rasp. “The fucking audacity on that one.”
“You know how hard it was to break that news to you? I almost couldn’t do it.”
My neck twists reluctantly, but I know my brother’s cues by now. If I don’t look at him, acknowledge this sliver of mercy he gave me all those years ago, he’ll make me pay for it.
And I owe him for it. How else would I have found out about the guys running a train on Haven? I thought she’d have told me she was back in town for the weekend.
Makes sense, though. She was saving all her energy for the gang bang.
“You two were so close,” Ezra says, shaking his head as he goes to stand by the window. “I mean, fuck, you loved that girl.”
The knuckles on the hand holding my Jäger have gone white.
“Shut up,” I push through gritted teeth.
“No one should have to live a lie. Especially not my brother. Watching her insult you like?—”
“Ezra, stop.” It’s a low, warning growl, but he’s too caught up in his pious retelling of the past to listen to me.
“—that. But you know what? I’m glad she came back. Gave you a chance to hammer that last nail in her coffin. Maybe now she’ll stay dead. Hey, now you can finally get a girlfriend.”
He flinches when the bottle of Jägermeister explodes against the wall a few feet from him.
In the hush that follows, there’s only a soft tinkle of glass as a shard settles.
“That almost hit me,” he says, turning eyes the color of dying moss onto me.
…you almost hurt me…
…you almost strangled me…
…you almost killed me…
