Page 30 of Scorching Sienna

“Si! No way. Is that my little Si in the flesh?” Before I know what is happening, Bradley has Sienna in his arms, her feet dangling off the floor, and red suspender clips visible as he hugs her tightly.

My anger unfurls like a leopard waking up and seeing another animal trying to take its meal.

Fucking Bradley. I hope you enjoyed that hug. It may very well be your last.

Chapter 10

Light

Brad hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. Just when I think I might pass out, Damon comes to my rescue.

The way he clears his throat is so menacing that all three of our heads turn to look at him. Even with his mask on, you can see he is not happy. If looks could kill. Never has that saying been more accurate than at this very moment.

Damon is eyeing Brad like he is a dead man walking.

“Hands.” One word. Not shouted. Not a raised tone in sight. And yet, Brad stiffens in response, slowly putting me down before taking a step back. The warning absolutely clear.

My stupid stomach does flip-flops, the red flag waving proudly in the wind. Yet, I choose to ignore it. His behavior opens a faucet, and I fear the little object in my vagina might fall out at this rate.

“My, my,” Mrs. Samson, or as she is now called, Lady Chatman, says as she steps forward between Brad and Damon, a large, mischievous smile on her face.

I remember Gael mentioning her arrival on my first day atSin, after Damon and I had the little heated conversation about my ponytails. By the time I composed myself, she had left, so I never saw her then.

I step back, and simultaneously, Damon closes the distance between us.

His hand circles my waist, pulling me close to him.

His gaze remains leveled at Brad, who, surprisingly, doesn’t flinch. I would if I were on the receiving end of the death glare.

Brad frowns, breaking eye contact with Damon. The smile from moments ago has fled, as has the warmth.

“Does your brother know you are here? And in such…questionable company?”

Wow. Indignation rises, and I tense ever so slightly.

“Does this company not include yourselves?” Damon answers before I can, his tone one I have not heard before. It is more dangerous. Edgier.

“I’m thirty-five years old, Brad. Old enough to make my own decisions. I can choose the company I want to keep, and if that is Damon’s, then that is my choice. I trust you, of all people, to understand this?” Words finally find their way out of my mouth and come out clipped. For once, I don’t care.

I knew Brad from high school, which is also where I met Lady Chatman.

Although, all those years back, she was Mrs. Samson. Librarian at the local community library and part of the school committee. Definitely not the woman standing before me in a tight black leather dress, thigh-high black leather boots, and an elegant red mask. And definitely not turning forty-five right now. Add on ten years, and that would be more accurate.

Toward the end of high school, Brad started hanging around witha group of students who were accused of performing satanic rituals. Complete hogwash. Rumors spread by those in the community who were ignorant and shit-stirrers. Just because the group wore black and listened to heavy metal.

It got so bad that Brad and, by extension, his mother were practically spurned from the community. Mrs. Samson lost her job, and no one in town would hire her. It was why they left town shortly after he graduated from high school.

Damon's eyes on my face, and the anger I feel flush my cheeks red. And for once, I hate it. I hated justifying my actions to anyone, especially someone I had last spoken to when James died and who doesn’t even know me now.

The silence drags on for over a minute.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Brad, apologize. You sound like a jealous ex-boyfriend. Sienna can do whatever she wants.” Lady Chatman swats her son’s shoulder lightly, her stern tone similar to my mother's when reprimanding me.

“Sorry, Sienna. It’s not my place. Of course, you can do whatever you like. I was just looking out for you.” I almost laugh. He sounds like a ten-year-old being forced to return someone else’s toy. The only saving grace is the bit of sincerity accompanying the words.

“I look out for her.” Damon’s words make me smile, but they do not have the same effect on Brad. The dip of his eyebrows and the pull of his mouth indicate his disbelief.

“Heaven help us. Off you go before you are late.” Lady Chatman pushes Brad toward the front door.

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