53 Bronson

“Who the hell was that woman Bronson?”

Silence.

“Well, are you going to answer me?”

I shut my eyes when the bedroom to Nikki’s door slams shut and blow out a frustrated breath when Cassandra rounds the corner and stands right in front of me. Her dark hair and dark eyes used to once allure me, now I only compare them to the angelic face of the stubborn woman now upset and embarrassed right upstairs.

I should have told her about Cassandra form the beginning. Why didn’t I?

“Bronson.”

“She’s a friend.”

“A friend?” She asks. Her lips pouty and her perfume aggravating my senses. She has always acted like a spoiled brat, made herself seem like the victim and although, I suppose in this instance she is, her attitude is not warranted. “I think you owe me more than that Bronson.”