Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail

I nodded and moved upstairs, but my feet dragged as I went past their door. The light flickered underneath it and their fan was whizzing. Instead of turning on my own light, I just curled underneath my covers.

When I woke, I saw the same darkness in my room. Blinking tiredly, I sat up and squinted towards my clock. I stared long and hard before I realized what I was looking at.

Nothing.

My clock always rested on my nightstand, but it wasn't there. When I looked for my phone I saw it wasn't where I usually placed it either. In fact, I looked around my room and realized nothing was the same. Someone had come in and rearranged my room—then I remembered. My clock had been pushed to the floor from when Brady and I had been in there—when my hand had flung upwards. I remembered hitting it, but I hadn't registered what had fallen. And, patting my pockets, I found my phone tucked into my back pocket. When I opened it, it took a couple seconds before I registered that it said 9:03.

I started to climb out of bed, but my phone buzzed in my hand. There were ten text messages from Brady. The last one read, 'Where are you? Are you ignoring me on purpose or is she that pissed off? She wouldn't look at me in church. Call me.'

Church?

That was at nine—oh God. I scrambled out of bed and lunged towards the door. When I opened it, the entire house was dark. No one was home and there was no way that it was nine in the morning.

"Hey!"

I whirled around and screamed when I saw a dark figure crouched in my window.

"Hey! It's me."

Brady. That was Brady. Gasping, I fell against my door and patted my chest. "You scared the crap out of me."

"I think I just peed my pants. Jeez," Brady grumbled.

"That was shut." I pointed towards the window.

"But not locked, babe. I left it open an inch the other night. Figured we might have to climb back inside." He smirked. "That plan went differently, huh?"

"Not funny," I retorted and closed the door behind me. The room was dark, but an intimate feeling swept over me. I shivered, not from fear or excitement, but ignored it as I sat on the bed. "I just woke up."

"I was wondering," Brady murmured as he inspected the pictures on my wall.

I watched his back, noted the muscular build and thin waist. Brady looked good. He always looked good, as he always would, but I saw an extra tension in his shoulders that he normally swept aside.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Brady shook his head and asked instead, "Have you talked to your grandmother today?"

My 'grandmother.' He asked so formally. I shook my head. "She went to bed this morning before I got inside and I've been sleeping since. I'm kind of relieved. I really don't know if I can handle seeing how she looked at me last night again."

"Yeah," Brady mumbled as he sat beside me on the bed. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees, cupped his chin with his hands, and watched me steadily. His normally dusty blonde hair was cast in shadow.

A shiver passed through me at the intensity of his eyes. "What?" I tried to ignore the arm muscles that bunched together when he leaned further on his elbows.

"I was just wondering how you're handling this. I mean, you usually freak out. How come you aren't freaking?"

"Thanks for your support." I tugged the bottom of my shirt down.

Brady shrugged. "I'm just saying that you aren't acting normal. I'm concerned."

"You want me to freak out?"

"Oh come on. You're going to freak out sometime. Since you haven't done it yet, it means it's going to be really bad. I'd rather deal with it now, not later."

"Excuse me, but you don't get to pick when I decide to 'freak out.'"

"Don't get all huffy about it. I'm just saying—"

"—I don't care what you're saying. This isn't even about you anymore. This is about…this is about…" I turned away from Brady and wrapped my arms around myself. I started towards the door, needing to get away, but stopped short. I couldn't go out there either.

"Rayna?" Brady asked behind me.

I started to tell him to go away, but I stopped that too. Did I want him to go away? Did I want to be alone? I didn't know what I felt or what I wanted. "Maybe you should go. I don't know what to say right now."

I heard the bed creak in protest as he stood up. "Are you sure? I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I don't think I am, Brady. I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Rayna…come on…"

He wanted me to say that everything was alright, but I couldn't. I could still see the look on my grandmother's face. She looked at me like I was a stranger. I couldn't get that out of my mind. My throat choked up again. I shook my head and rasped out, "Brady, just go. I'll talk to you later."

He waited another few seconds, which seemed like minutes, before he crawled out of the window. As soon as I felt him go, I breathed in relief. I didn't know why I felt like Brady's presence was so oppressive, but it was. I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. I couldn't think like that. It was no good.

"Rayna, are you awake?"