Bully Me This (Bully Me #1): A Best Friend's Brother Bully Romance Page 3

  “Make me.” She demands, her body rigid while she grits her teeth. What the hell have I walked in to? Why do I always end up getting dragged into all the drama?

  Enough is enough. If I don’t try to break this up, then things are going to get ugly pretty fast. “All right you two, break it up already.” I fly between the two of them, pushing my arms out wide to separate them but I’m only small and it doesn’t have as much as an impact as I would have liked.

  “Willow, get the fuck out of my way. I really don’t want to hurt you, but I will.” Jett barks down my ear but I ignore her. Instead I spread my feet and stand firm.

  “Back down, Jett.” My voice sounds calm but on the inside I’m raging so bad. I can feel my blood beginning to simmer under my skin, ready to boil and blow when I reach breaking point—and I can tell it’s close.

  Ryder laughs, and when I look at him my fears come true. His eyes are clouded, and intense heat simmering within them—dark pools of destruction, and I know there’s no way he’ll be the one to back down. “Why don’t you listen to little miss perfect here and walk the fuck away?”

  I know Ryder’s worked up, but I really don’t appreciate the tone he’s taking with me. I didn’t ask to walk into this goddamn shit storm, yet here I am. Pissed or not, none of this is my fault. I don’t even know what this is. All I’m doing is trying to avoid this from reaching a point of no return. Also, the last thing I want is any bloodshed while Bryson is away.

  “Enough!” I shout again and this time they both stop and look at me. “I don’t know what’s going on here and I don’t really care. But you two need to end whatever this is right now. You’re both grown ass adults, so work your bullshit out and stop acting like a pair of immature kids.”

  Jett’s the first one to stand down. Her black eyes are puffy and red—a rare sight if ever I saw one. It’s also a clear indicator that whatever Ryder has said or done has caused her enough upset to make her cry. Anyone who knows Jett knows she doesn’t cry for anyone. Yet the fierce scowl on her face tells me this issue between her and Ryder is far from over.

  “We open in thirty minutes and instead of making sure everything’s good to go, you’re too busy tearing chunks out of each other. You’re fucking acting like a set of bitches. Bryson wouldn’t put up with this bullshit and you both know it.” I hate being the one who has to deliver the low blows and home truths, but if I don’t do it, who will? “Either sort your acts out or get the hell out of here.”

  “There’s nothing to sort. We’re done.” Ryder barks over my head, all six-foot-two of him towering over my small five-foot frame. He mutters something else, but I struggle to understand it before he turns around and storms off, forcing both Jett and I to watch his retreating form disappearing out the door to only god knows where.

  “Asshole.” Jett calls after him but he’s already left the building and to be fair, I don’t think he’d give a damn about anything she had to say anyway.

  I turn back around to face her, hoping for at least some kind of explanation, but all she does is shrug her bare shoulders at me. Really? This chick is something else. Sure, she might be Bryson’s kind of stepdaughter, but she really needs to figure out what she wants from life instead of moping around and causing problems.

  “Are you being for real? Is that really all I’m getting?” I’ve just had to break the two of them apart and she isn’t even willing to tell me what it was about.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to know what the hell just happened.” I demand, and I can feel what little patience I have left begin to wear away. “I want to know why I’ve been dragged in to cover Miley’s shift super last minute, and I also want to know why you and Ryder were ripping each other to shreds?”

  “Ask pretty boy. I’m sure he’s got all the answers.”

  “Pretty boy isn’t here, is he? Which leaves me another man down for today. Plus, I’m asking you, so you need to start talking.”

  A small, barely visible tear falls and rolls down Jett’s cheek and I suddenly realize something major must have happened between them. I just hope she wasn’t stupid enough to sleep with him. Ryder’s the biggest man-whore this side of the coast—always has been, and I’d like to think Ryder wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk his life by sleeping with Bryson’s stepdaughter. Sure, it may not be by blood, but he loves the bones of that girl and everyone knows Bryson would kill for Jett.

  No. It must be something else. Something bad all the same because Jett is our very own ice-queen. In all the years I’ve known her—way before she started working at Sinner’s, I’ve never once witnessed her lose the handle on her emotions. Those bad boys are locked up tighter than Fort-Knox.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be too hard on her? Maybe she’s going through some major stuff right now, but damned aren’t we all?

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask and I could kick myself. I’m turning into Hadley. But then what else am I supposed to say to her? She looks upset enough as it is and I’m the last person who should be questioning anyone’s morals right now. I decide not to push her, and I wait patiently for her reply. If she wants to talk then she will, if not I’ll leave her be and give her some space.

  I have no idea what to expect from Jett. On first glance it looks like she’s thinking about opening up and letting me in, but then her trademark blood red lips clamp shut, and she shakes her head.

  Something crazy has definitely happened, that’s for sure. I just don’t know what. One thing I do know is Ryder and Jett need to work out their differences and fast. Preferably before Bryson makes his grand return.

  Sinner’s is getting a new manager any day now. Bryson wants to take on a more backseat position. I’m sure he’ll still play an active role, just from behind the scenes. None of us know who this new guy is, but if these two don’t quit bitching I’ll bet my life they’ll both be out of a job.

  “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  The bar has quietened down some after a chaotic lunch rush, and Jett looks like she’s calmed some too. I wouldn’t approach her otherwise because I know better than to approach storm Jett.

  “Not really, but what can you do?” Jett’s eyes are sad, framed by her super long lashes, yet she still looks as beautiful and flawless as ever. “But I will be. You can be sure of that.” Her head moves toward the door and then she turns back to me. “I can’t believe that son of a bitch was all up in my face. I mean, seriously. Who the fuck does he think he is?”

  If I’m being honest, I can’t believe it either. But from where I was standing, they both looked like they were doing a damn good job of holding their own. The problem with Jett and Ryder is that they’re too similar. Neither of them will ever admit it, but until they can see it for themselves, I guess nothing will change between them.

  “Do you want to talk about it yet?”

  Jett sighs heavily and I know she’s still bubbling from her showdown with Ryder, only now she seems to be handling it a whole lot better.

  “Not really.” She taps her fingers on the bar before suddenly slamming her palm down. “Actually, yes I do.” I’m taken aback when she reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out a beer. In one swift flick of her wrist she knocks the cap off the side of the bar, then lifts the bottle to her vibrant red lips. And it looks like the Jett I know is back. But I’ve got one hell of a feeling this is going to be a long ass day. I’m regretting agreeing to cover Miley’s shift more and more as the day goes on, and by the looks of things it’s only me and Jett holding the fort until Rush arrives.

  “He’ll calm down. You know what he’s like. Ryder’s a hot head, but with time it will all blow over.” I tell her as calmly as I can, but even I’m not convinced by my words of encouragement. I haven’t seen Ryder as mad as he was in a long time. I’ve also witnessed Jett and Ryder argue heaps of times but today felt different somehow. Final.

  “I don’t give a damn if he calms down. Ryder isn’t my problem anymore and he’s only got himself to blame
.”

  “But you two…”

  “Us two are nothing. Never have been and never will be. If we were then he wouldn’t be balls deep in Miley, would he?” Acid whips off her tongue, lethal and ready to strike anyone in her path.

  “Wait, Miley?”

  I was about to say that Jett and Ryder work together, but it looks like her anger goes a whole lot deeper. Ryder and Miley, though? No, I try but I just can’t see it. Jett must have this all wrong. There’s no way Ryder would go anywhere near Miley—or would he?

  Even if it is true, I don’t understand why Jett is so upset about it, unless… “Oh, Jett. Please don’t tell me you gave in to Ryder’s charm? Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

  “Oh, I did.” She laughs, her eyes shine bright with delight and then once again her face drops, “but it mustn’t have done much for him because it seems our very own whore-bag has been keeping him warm for some time now.”

  I know Jett’s trying her damned hardest to hold back the tears, and she refuses to look at me. Instead she lifts her beer back up to her mouth, takes a long pull and then slams it back down before wiping her lips on the back of her hand.

  “Do you know what? They’re a match made in hell and they’re fucking welcome to each other. We’re done. Ryder is as good as dead to me.”

  Jett tells me this with so much conviction, but I know she doesn’t really mean a word of what she’s saying right now. The cracks in her voice are evidence enough. She’s angry and hurt but as soon as she’s had a chance to calm down, she’ll feel better about this whole messed-up situation she’s found herself in.

  “You’re angry. I get that…”

  “Angry…” Jett throws her head back on a howl and when she looks at me again her eyes are the blackest of black, misting over, warning me storm Jett is close by. Shit. She’s more than angry—she’s fucking psychotic. “Believe me, Willow, angry doesn’t have shit on what I’m feeling right now, and if Ryder and that bitch Miley know what’s good for them then they’ll stay the fuck out of my way.”

  I decided it was best to give Jett a wide berth for the remainder of her shift. I’ve seen her mad before, plenty of times but this is something else and it’s not something I really want to involve myself with. I have my own issues to overcome without getting dragged into another domestic shit storm.

  The more I watched her, the more I realize Ryder has well and truly crossed the line. Sure, he’s pulled some stunts in his time, but this one beats them all. By fucking Jett, he’s just signed his death warrant. There’s no way Bryson will let this slide when he finds out, and he will—because Bryson finds out about everything.

  I really hope they manage to work it out before he gets wind of it, but right now it’s looking really unlikely. So long as they keep it professional while they’re here, that’s all I’m asking right now because there is no way in hell that I’m about to start playing go-between.

  I wait until the bar is almost empty and settle my tired ass onto a barstool. Man, what a day.

  A small part of me thought Ryder would eventually come back through the door to finish what he started, but thankfully that hasn’t happened.

  Instead, while Rush is busy downstairs I’ve been forced to watch on in silence as storm Jett hurtled around the place, ready to take out anyone in her way.

  “Do you need me for anything before I leave?”

  I hear Jett’s voice somewhere behind me and I struggle to find enough energy to turn my head. I really need to start working on my sleep before it catches up with me.

  “I’m good.” I call back while feeling the early stages of a migraine building. Great, just what I needed. I swear I can’t wait for this day to end, then I can head home and climb into bed—Colby’s bed. Actually, the prospect of staying here suddenly sounds much more appealing.

  I’ve worked at Sinner’s for the best part of five years so I’m technically part of the furniture now, so… “You get off.” I tell her and them remember. “Oh, Jett…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve took you off the next couple of nights. Hopefully with a bit of space you and Ryder will be able to sort things out. Help things settle a bit.”

  “What? But I need those shifts, Willow.” Jett comes closer and her voice is laced with panic. “Why am I being punished just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants?”

  This time I turn to face her, and I find her watching me wide-eyed. Any anger that was there previously has vanished, only to be replaced by fear.

  “No one is punishing you, Jett.” I tell her and I can’t help but feel for the girl stood before me. I’ve seen that look before. It’s a look of someone who will do whatever they need to do to survive, no matter the cost. Maybe I shouldn’t have switched the shifts, but Ryder isn’t here so I thought changing Jett’s was the best thing to do, only now I’m not so sure. “I just thought this would make things a little easier for you. You’ll still get paid. I’ll clear it with Bryson as soon as he’s back.”

  Bryson is our boss man. He’s been in charge of Sinner’s way before I stepped through the doors. He’s also Hadley’s uncle and Jett’s kind of stepdad too. Even though her mom’s not around anymore he still likes to make sure she’s okay and play and active role in her life. I think it’s really sweet. I’ve never had that, except when Hadley’s parents were still alive. Truthfully, I don’t think Jett realizes how lucky she is to have someone like Bryson looking out for her, rooting for her no matter what.

  That being said, you don’t tend to see Bryson a lot. He enjoys hiding and lurking in the shadows, yet he still manages to see and hear about everything. Trust me, there’s nothing going down at Sinner’s without him knowing about it.

  Damn, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already in the know about Ryder and Jett’s latest run in.

  I sure hope not, for Ryder’s sake. This won’t end well for either of them, least of all him. Bryson is well known for his intolerance to bullshit and drama. I guess that’s where the two of us are alike, but any similarities start and end there. If Bryson finds out that Ryder and Jett have been getting down and dirty, heads will roll, that’s for sure.

  Sinner’s is Bryson’s baby. This place is his legit business venture, but everyone knows a lot of illegal activity takes up the majority of his time, and I’m fairly certain that’s why he’s bringing someone else to oversee the running of this place.

  But hey, this is his business and what he does has nothing to do with me. So long as he continues to provide me with a paycheck, I’ll continue to turn an oblivious eye.

  “Thanks,” Jett whispers after a short while. “Please don’t tell him why.”

  I won’t. I don’t have a death wish, and I’m not stupid enough to detonate that bomb. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. But remember, Ryder isn’t worth it. He never has been. Jett, you’re worth so much more.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  COLBY

  “It’s a done fucking deal so quit bitching about it.”

  I reach out and grab my short from the floor and pull it over my head. I can feel the heat of Tiffanie’s curious eyes burning into me, heating my skin.

  I fucking hate it when she tries to get all superior on my ass. Like I actually give a damn about her opinion. She means nothing to me. Never has and never will.

  Tiffanie Melrose is nothing but a thorn in my side, burrowing deeper and deeper, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.

  Under different circumstances Tiffanie wouldn’t stand a chance around me. She’d be nothing but dust as I watched her blow away with the wind.

  I’m Colby Carter and I make the rules.

  I call the shots.

  The world is my playground.

  If people have a problem with that then they can fuck off back to wherever they came from.

  Well, at least that’s how things used to be. If only it were that fucking easy to dispose of her, my life would be a whole lot sweeter.

  “I th
ought you hated it there?” Tiffanie snipes and I snap my head toward her. Not as much as I hate it here, I want to say but I bite down hard on my tongue—knowing what’s good for me.

  “Remind me. What the fuck does any of this have to do with you?”

  The answer to that question would be nothing. Zilch. Nada. Jack fucking shit.

  My eyes roam over Tiffanie’s body. She’s lay on the bed, her legs wide open ready and willing for me to take her again, but my dick’s limp and I don’t have it in me to think of anything exciting to get my juices flowing.

  The truth is, I fuck her because I have to, not because I want to.

  “Baby,” she purrs, her blue hooded eyes warning me to tread very carefully because whether I like it or not, Tiffanie holds all the ammunition. “If you’re fucking this,” her hand slides up her pale thigh before stopping at her pussy, and she licks her lips seductively, “then you better believe it has everything to do with me.”

  I struggle to fight back a laugh as it rumbles deep within my chest. What a fucking chick.

  She’s got some fucking balls, that’s for sure. I’ll always give credit where credit is due, but she’d be nothing without her connections and she sure as hell knows it too.

  “You’d like to think so, huh?” I reach out for my joint on the bedside table and pull it toward my lips. I light it up and inhale deeply before turning back to her. I allow my lungs to soak it all up, welcoming the feel of calm as it washes deep into my soul and then I exhale, the cloud of smoke cutting her out of my vision for a period. “You’re good, Tiff, but you’re not that good.”

  My words must hit a nerve as she flinches and her body recoils as though I’ve just slapped her hard in the face. Man, how I’d fucking love to do that. I might be an ass at the best of times, but I’m not that guy. I’d never hit a chick.

  Tiff is quick to compose herself and she’s full of sass in no time. “You keep telling yourself that, but you and I both know you’d be nothing without me—period.”