Bradford Brawler (Bradford Bastard #2) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: Bradford Bastard Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
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Channing steps in front of Colby, determined to put on the best kind of show for his guilty-as-fuck client, but if I have to go through Channing to get what I want, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. “Think about what you’re doing, Morgan,” Channing spits, his hands flying up as if to ward me off. “You put one hand on my client, and I’ll destroy you.”

I reach them in a matter of seconds and my arm rears back. Not sparing a thought for Channing’s bullshit pleas, I grip the front of his tailored suit and launch my fist clear into the side of his face. He goes down like a sack of shit, and I barge right past him, not sparing a single thought for the asshole who just helped my sister’s rapist walk free.

Colby barely has a moment to react before I’m on him.

My hand grips his throat, and I throw him to the ground, pinning him beneath me as I let every last shred of fury fly free. My tight fist slams against his temple, his eye, his jaw, his lips. “You’ll never fucking touch them again,” I roar, no hope of saving myself now. “I’ll fucking kill you, ya hear me? I’ll end you right fucking now.”

My fists continue in a rapid assault, but nothing is enough. I need to go harder, faster. I need to fucking destroy him.

“TANNER,” Brielle’s shriek tears through the madness. “STOP!”

I hear her, but nothing is stopping me now. Not until it’s done.

Blood spurts across the front of my shirt as I re-break his nose, but all too soon, I’m being dragged away. “Get off me,” I roar, fighting the tight grip.

Slipping free of my captors, I go for Colby again, but when my palms hit the ground and my face scrapes the pavement, the fog clears. There’s a knee in the center of my back, and I go limp, letting the officers wrestle a cold pair of cuffs around my wrists.

Brielle drops down before me, panic on her face and tears in those bright blue eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” she promises me. “It’s going to be okay.”

And not a moment later, I’m hauled to my feet and shoved hard into the back of a police car while my father shakes his head. “Get him out of here.”

Chapter 27

TANNER

The holding cell is nothing but a small cement box and a metal bench. I’ve paced the bars like an animal, rattling my cage and screaming to be released, but no one gives a fuck.

How can they hold me here when Colby Jacobs is out there, free as a fucking bird?

Gripping the bars tighter, the scabs over my knuckles split open again. It’s a torturous cycle. It’s almost as though the minute they start to scab over, I do something that tears them apart again, but I don’t regret it. I’ll split my knuckles a million times over if it means getting to Colby.

I lost track of time hours ago, but one thing is for sure, my parents should have had me out of here well before now. Eddison should have shown up, and I should have been freed, but for some fucked-up reason, I’m still rotting away. No one has come down here to let me know what’s going on. The only human interaction I’ve had since yesterday is the asshole who got stuck with the job of offering me food and water. Hell, I shouldn’t complain, during the middle of the night, he even offered me a blanket. It was scratchy and stank of piss.

Releasing the metal bars, I start pacing again, grunting in frustration.

Neither Bri nor Addie are safe out there without me. They’re unprotected, left alone to fend for themselves. Bri will be alright. She’s strong and will be able to hold her own long enough to call for help, but Addison … after the blow in court, she’ll crumble. I guarantee that she’s locked in her room right now, weeping in fear.

I have to get out of here.

The familiar buzz of the security door sounds through the cell and my head whips up, watching as the heavy door pulls back to allow space for two people to stride through—one being an accompanying officer while the other is the devil himself, Orlando Channing.

Rage burns through my body, and I clench my jaw, the only relief coming from the sight of the heavy bruising across the side of his face. That dirty motherfucker. It’s one thing to push your case and do everything within the law for your client, but this? Fuck no. I always knew he was dirty and full of shit, but I never expected that he was capable of something so heinous.

The officer remains by the door as Channing strides toward me, dropping his briefcase on a table and looking like the biggest douchebag I’ve ever seen. His filthy gaze locks on mine, anger swarming deep in his stare. This motherfucker hasn’t forgotten what I did to him, and he won’t be forgetting it anytime soon. Hell, just the memory of my fist slamming into his face has made my stay in this cell almost pleasurable.


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