Bradford Butcher (Bradford Bastard #3) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bradford Bastard Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
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I watch as my father swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as I do everything in my power to ignore the heavy sobs and murmured whispers coming from the other side of Addison’s door. I don’t doubt Hudson will be breaking down the front door any minute now, determined to be the shoulder Addie cries on.

Without a single card to play, my father finally realizes he just lost the best thing to ever happen to him. No matter how many wives or children he has, he’ll never be able to replace what he had here with Mom and Addie. He shoots me one last stare and there’s still a fight in his eyes, but he knows damn well I will put him in the ground.

He hangs his head, his shoulders falling in defeat before silently walking back down the long hallway, clutching the duffle bag in his hand. He passes in front of me, and I watch him go, an odd hollowness in my chest. He gets halfway down the stairs when I move closer to the railing, watching him closely. “Dad?” I call after him. He pauses to glance back up at me. “Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

And with that, I turn around, hoping like fuck I never have to see him again.

Chapter 21

BRIELLE

“You know what?” Sara says as we sit around the dining table, Tanner on my left and Hudson on the right while a puffy-eyed Addison sits directly opposite me. “I’ve always wanted to open a bakery, but I’ve never had the guts to do it. I’ve always waited around for Trenton, waiting on him to tell me what our next steps will be, but why should I hold back? There’s nothing stopping me from going after that dream now.”

“I say go for it,” Tanner says while scooping a bite of risotto into his mouth. “There’s no denying you’re the best baker in Bradford. The things you make are sophisticated and elegant, much better than the shitty bakery down by the school. Their chocolate eclairs look like someone took a shit on the baking tray.”

“Tanner!” Sara scolds. “Watch your mouth. I’m not doing this to be some kind of competition to every bakery in town, or because I think I can do a better job. I just want to wake up every day and enjoy what I’m doing. I want to have purpose.”

“And what about those country club bitches?” Addison asks, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “I doubt they’ll be accepting of you when you walk in wearing a dirty apron with flour in your hair.”

“Fuck them,” Sara says, her lips pulling into a smirk as her children gape at her casual use of the word fuck. “They can go to their hoity-toity events and live their lavish lifestyles, but every night, they’ll go home to husbands who won’t ask about their day. They will never know what it feels like to live a rewarding life, but I will.”

“Damn straight you will,” Tanner says. “And if they have a problem with it, you could always shit in their eclairs.”

Sara blanches, gaping at Tanner in horror. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she gasps as Tanner and Hudson giggle like misbehaving children.

“Come on, Mom,” Addison says. “We all know those country club women would take one taste of your pastries and hire you for every event until their dying days. You’re just that good.”

Sara gives her daughter a fond smile, pride shining through her eyes. “Thank you, my love,” she says just as a knock sounds on the door.

Sara goes to stand, but Tanner waves her off. “Finish your dinner,” he says, getting up from the table. “I’ll get it.” Tanner doesn’t wait for a response before striding out of the dining room and through the kitchen.

Sara continues talking about her bakery as I listen for Tanner, hearing the soft click of the lock and the front door creaking open. I hear a man’s voice, too soft to make out the words from this far away, but curiosity claims every inch of my soul. I lean back in my chair, peering up through the long hallway and into the foyer to see two men standing just inside the door.

I gasp, recognizing them immediately. “It’s the cops from the hospital,” I say, my eyes wide, cutting off whatever Sara was saying as panic tears at my chest. “The ones taking Colby’s case.”

Addison straightens in her seat, her eyes widening as Sara flies to her feet, gaping at me. “Are you sure?”

I nod, pushing out from the table and getting to my feet. “Certain,” I tell her, walking around the big table, determined to hear what’s going on. “Their faces are ingrained in my mind.”



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