Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
If I wasn’t concerned before, the fact she’d almost said it’s your mother sent alarm bells off inside my head. Not since I was ten years old had she allowed me to call her that. During one of her phases, she decided to reinvent herself, scrounging up the money to change her name. She went into the courthouse as Patty Valentine and came out as Norma-Jean Richmond. She said she thought it made her sound classier. I silently rebutted that she was only fooling herself.
“What’s going on?” I asked, getting straight to the point.
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line which only made me more anxious.
“What is it, Norma?” I demanded. “Is Brayden okay?”
“He’s been attacked again,” she spat out as though it were somehow my fault.
Blood roared in my ears, and I had to hold onto to the table to keep myself upright.
“How bad is it?” I croaked.
This wasn’t the first time Brayden had been attacked. He’d been a target from the moment he stepped foot in the MCC. By the time his sentence was handed down, and he was transferred to Greenville, his face had been splashed across every major news outlet that ever existed. People all over the nation paused to shed tears for the victims of the horrific crime that had taken place. It was a story that pulled at the heartstrings of every man, woman, and child… myself included. But someone had to stand by Brayden’s side, and that someone was me. He was my twin brother, my lifeblood, and I knew in my heart he wasn’t capable of such recklessness.
“He’s in Greenville Regional,” my mother’s voice crackled through the phone. “And those fuckin’ nurses won’t tell me shit. They think they’re so much better than me…”
I could imagine why. Norma-Jean didn’t know how to ask something tactfully. But I was past the point of relying on her for anything, including information.
“I need to go,” I said. “I have to see what’s going on.”
My mother huffed and started her typical spiel about how ungrateful I was that she’d raised us on her own. I disconnected the line and steadied my hand as I tried to type in Ryland’s name, but before I could, I saw his figure in the doorway.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Long enough to know what that phone call was about.”
“Did you know?” I accused. “Did you already know about this?”
“I only found out five minutes ago myself,” he replied.
He just stood there. As if he had all the time in the world to relay this information.
“And?” I pushed.
“And as far as I know, he’s in critical but stable condition.”
“I have to go to him.” I thrust the chair backward as I stood. “I’m going now.”
A dark look passed over Ryland’s face, and it made my blood boil. I no longer cared what his issues were.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I walked up and shoved my hands against his chest. “He’s my brother. You told me he was your friend. And if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I swear I will slap that expression right off your face!”
He pinned my arms to the side to subdue me and crushed me against his chest.
“I know he’s your brother,” he whispered in my ear. “I wish he wasn’t, but I know he is.”
I pulled away from him and swiped at the angry tears that spilled from my eyes as I shook my head in disbelief. It broke my heart that anyone could hate Brayden so much.
“How can you talk like that?” I demanded. “He’s a good person. He didn’t even do anything to deserve this!”
“Didn’t he?” he asked in a hollow voice. “If that’s the case, then why did he plead guilty, Brighton? Have you ever stopped to consider that? Why he let the person who committed the crime walk away scot-free?”
I clamped my mouth shut as I processed his bitter words. He had a point. It was a question I’d asked myself a thousand times. But now that I knew Brayden wasn’t guilty, nothing else mattered. I knew his character. I knew what was in his heart, and he would never intentionally hurt anybody.
“What does any of that have to do with you?” I hissed. “Why do you care what Brayden did or didn’t do?”
His phone chimed, interrupting our conversation.
“Ted’s here to take you to the airport.”
He reached into his pocket and retrieved something before sliding it onto my wrist. A new GPS bracelet.
His fingers feathered over the metal while I scowled at him.
“Brighton?”
“What?” I snapped.
“Be careful.”
He released me with a pained expression. I hesitated only a moment before making my way into the house. I couldn’t think about Ryland right now. I couldn’t feel bad for him. But I did, and I didn’t even know why. But fuck him. Fuck him for always making me feel this way. Brayden was my main concern right now, and I wasn’t going to apologize for that.