Craving My Brother's Best Friend (Bailey and Kaleb) novel Chapter 53

**The Night We Borrowed Fire from a Broken Star by Selvin Arlo Crest**

**Chapter 53**

Kaleb’s POV

I accelerated down the road towards the apartment, adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pounding fiercely against my ribcage.

“Please let her be okay. Please let her be okay,” I repeated like a mantra, each word a desperate plea that echoed in my mind.

As I arrived at the building, I parked hastily, barely taking the time to shut off the engine before I dashed inside.

The elevator seemed to crawl, its doors opening with an excruciating slowness. I pressed the button repeatedly, my impatience growing with each agonizing second. My stomach churned, a knot of anxiety tightening as I thought of Bailey.

Finally, with a ding that felt like a small victory, the elevator doors opened. I burst out onto her floor, my breath quickening as I turned the corner toward her door. But then, my heart sank. There stood Ethan, right in front of Bailey’s door, poised to knock, a smug look on his face.

In his hands, he cradled an extravagant bouquet of red and white flowers, as though he were some kind of knight in shining armor.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath, a surge of anger boiling within me.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I marched up to him, my hands gripping his shoulder as I yanked him back.

Before he could utter a single word, my fist connected with his mouth, the impact reverberating through my knuckles.

The bouquet slipped from his grasp, petals cascading to the floor like confetti, a stark contrast to the tension in the air.

Ethan staggered, a look of shock mingled with fury on his face as he wiped the blood from his lip. “Are you crazy, Kaleb?” he shouted, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Why are you here?” I growled, my chest heaving with rage. “What the hell are you doing at Bailey’s door?”

He spat blood onto the floor, dropping the remnants of the bouquet like it was worthless. To my fury, he lunged at me, his fist connecting with the side of my jaw. Pain shot through me, igniting my anger even further.

I shoved him hard against the wall, my voice low and dangerous. “You think you can just waltz in here with flowers like nothing ever happened? After what you did?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ethan snapped, struggling against my grip. “You’ve gone insane!”

“I’m talking about the video! The news! The absolute bullshit about Bailey!” I punched him again, my knuckles screaming in protest.

“You paid that guy to post it. Don’t you dare act innocent!”

Ethan’s laughter was sharp and bitter, filled with mockery. “You’ve lost it. You’re imagining things!”

My vision blurred with rage as I hit him again and again. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” I hissed between labored breaths, “but you better fucking leave Bailey alone!”

Ethan groaned, blood dripping from his lip, yet he managed a twisted smile. Leaning closer, he whispered darkly, “Even if I did, do you think Bailey will believe you?”

That was the final straw. I shoved him harder, my fists raining down on him. “You bastard!” I roared. “I’ll make you regret every second you thought you could mess with her!”

He ducked one punch but caught me with an uppercut that snapped my head back. Staggering, I fought to regain my balance, refusing to go down.

Ethan charged at me again, fists flying, landing blows to my ribs and jaw. Pain coursed through me, but I surged forward, tackling him to the ground.

We crashed onto the hallway floor, rolling and grappling, fists hammering wherever they could find purchase. My knee pressed into his chest as I struck down, my anger fueling each blow.

His hand clawed at my shirt, pulling me closer, and he spat blood in my face. “You don’t know a damn thing about me!” he growled.

“I know enough!” I shouted back, my voice rising with intensity. “I know you’re the reason Bailey cried herself sick!”

His smirk returned, twisted and ugly even as blood dripped from his mouth. “And yet… she’s going to run to me, not you. She called me to come herself.”

Something inside me snapped, and I lost all control. I pounded him harder, the sound of fist against flesh echoing through the hallway like a war drum.

He groaned, coughed, and tried to shove me off, but I wouldn’t relent. “You sick fool!” I screamed, my voice raw with fury.

In a moment of desperation, he grabbed my wrist mid-swing, forcing it back, his eyes burning into mine. “And what are you? Huh? The jealous asshole who can’t stand that she trusts me more than you?”

I yanked free, striking his face again, his head bouncing off the floor. Blood smeared across the tiles, a stark reminder of our violent confrontation.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify