“Two…”
“On three, he kills you, just so you know,” Wraith adds.
“Okay,” Bradley grunts. “He ruined my family.”
Bending down, I wrap my fist around the collar of his shirt and pull him to his feet, slamming him back against the wall. “Go on.”
“My folks were forced to take him in and all he did was make our lives miserable.” Bradley suddenly looks his age as his bottom lip trembles and fear permeates his features, but then they harden with anger and hatred. “He wasn’t grateful for any of it. I had to share my room and he caused so many problems. My parents were always fighting because of him.”
“Keep going.”
“He attacked my dad. Did you know that? He stabbed him.”
“What was your dad doing at the time?”
Bradley’s face hardens. “Defending his family.”
“I see.” I move my hand to his neck. “You better get to the part where you decided to stalk Colson.”
“He ruined everything,” Bradley says, his voice cracking slightly. “We lost everything because of him. My mom started drinking even more to deal with the stress. He killed her.”
“And your family is completely blameless? Colson was just a bad seed? Is that it?”
He nods, clearly not the brightest bulb in the box if he can’t pick up on what’s happening. “My mom died and she made me promise I would make it right.”
“Make it right?”
Wraith appears next to me, glaring at Bradley. I see the fear and panic spreading through Bradley as he makes eye contact.
“Scare him,” Bradley mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “But that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to ruin him like he ruined us. He was hard to find until I found his Instagram page and found out where he worked.”
“What was your plan to ruin him?” Wraith asks.
Bradley’s jaw ticks and his lips press together. I slam him against the wall hard enough that he coughs and claws at my hand around his neck.
“What was the fucking plan?” I repeat, getting in his face.
Bradley glares at me, but I see the moment he makes his choice. “I was gonna fuck him like the faggot whore he is.”
Before I can even think about it, I pull my arm back and slam my fist into Bradley’s face, instantly breaking his nose. He groans in pain, trying to reach for his face.
“And?” I shake him. “You’re so fucking tough, huh? What else did you have planned?”
Bradley tries to avoid my questioning, turning his face away as blood drips down his chin.
“Tell me or I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
“That’s it,” he grunts. “He was so protective about it when we were teens. I knew it would hurt him if I took it from him.”
My brow crinkles. “What? Protective of what?”
“His body,” Bradley spits out. “He wouldn’t—” He cuts himself off, but I tighten my grip on his neck.
“Wouldn’t what?”
He obviously doesn’t want to tell me, so I smash my fist into his gut. “I’ll beat it out of you if you make me.”
Bradley’s eyes meet mine, resignation reflected in them. “He wouldn’t mess around with me. I wanted to know, but he wouldn’t.”
