Afterlight (Fanfiction) - EDITING ✓

chapter forty-three

Chloe

"WHY are you calling?" I snapped, my voice colder than I expected, though it barely masked the tremor of anger boiling underneath. I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, my left hand now resting on my hip in an attempt to ground myself. How dare he? After everything he had done, he had the audacity to call me, as if the past could be erased with a casual "catching up."

My mind raced back to that night. The headlights from his car had receded into the distance, leaving me standing alone on the street, a blur of tears stinging my eyes as my world unraveled. To him, it had been nothing more than another impulsive moment. To me, it had been a wound I wasn't sure would ever fully heal.

I glanced at Justin, his brows furrowing as he watched my expression twist with barely contained rage. His jaw clenched in silent understanding. Without hesitation, he reached out, gently but firmly taking the phone from my hand.

"Who is this?" Justin asked, his tone calm but razor-sharp, a barely veiled warning lacing his words. He pressed the speakerphone button, and Brad's voice spilled into the room like an unwelcome shadow.

"Take a guess." The amusement in Brad's voice made my blood run cold. He sounded casual, smug, as though he hadn't shattered pieces of me and left them scattered in his wake.

Justin's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. "What do you want?" he demanded, his tone steady but carrying an edge sharp enough to cut.

"Just calling to catch up," Brad said smoothly, pausing for dramatic effect. "I wanted to see if everything is going well for the two of you."

The mocking undertone in his voice made me clench my fists at my sides. Justin's gaze flicked toward me, his protective instincts simmering just beneath the surface.

"We're good," Justin said curtly, though his voice betrayed his growing frustration.

Brad chuckled, the sound venomous and dripping with insincerity. "I may be giving you two a visit soon," he added, his tone almost taunting.

Justin leaned forward slightly, his body taut with restrained anger. "After you threw your sister onto the street, you have the nerve to call and say you're visiting?" he spat, the bitterness in his voice undeniable. "What kind of brother are you?"

There was a beat of silence before Brad's voice returned, silkier than before, with an undertone that sent a chill down my spine. "The type that doesn't stab their younger sibling," he said slyly.

The air in the room shifted, thickening with an oppressive tension. I froze, my breath caught in my throat as my mind scrambled to process his words. My heart thundered in my chest, and I felt Justin stiffen beside me, his posture rigid as he locked eyes with me.

Since when had Brad known? How could he know? And, more importantly, how much did he know? The silence stretched between us, a taut string ready to snap.

"Brad." His name left my lips like a heavy exhale, as if saying it aloud might make the weight of him disappear. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until my lungs burned from the release. "Listen to me."

My voice wavered, the words trembling with both desperation and resolve. I wanted to tell him we were leaving soon, that we had plans for a fresh start far from here, somewhere his shadow wouldn't loom over us. I wanted to tell him he didn't need to come, that there was still a chance to leave the past behind.

But before I could say another word, Brad cut me off, his voice cool and indifferent. "I'm coming to hear you out in person. See you soon." And then the line went dead.