Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

God, he looked pitiful too. His head was bowed, his body trembled and he hung back from Bradley as if he were an abusive partner who might lash out at any minute. Again, it did a little to make Bradley feel sorry for him... but it wasn’t enough.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” It was the first thing Bradley could think to say.

“I don’t know.” Sherman spoke softly and stared at his feet.

“That’s all you have to say?” Bradley clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, careful not to erupt. “Can’t think of anything else?”

“What else is there to say?” He stayed by the door, a solid ten feet from where Bradley was standing. It was a smart move really.

“How about what you were doing – what you were fucking thinking?!” That last word screamed itself out of Bradley, and he took a deep, calming breath again to try and recenter himself. “Do you know how dangerous that was?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, great! So, you knew and you did it anyway. You thought ‘what can I do today that might completely —”

“It wasn’t like that.” He still spoke down and to the floor.

“What was that?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Then how was it? Please, tell me because I’m struggling here, Sherman. I really am.” He felt like a parent, scolding his child for skipping school or something silly and mundane like that.

“You know why.”

“Do I now? Could have fooled me.”

“You do.” Still soft and to the floor. Still refusing to even look at Bradley.

“I can guess. Should I guess?” He waited for a response, but when Sherman remained silent, Bradley powered on. “You lost your job during Covid. You were bored. You were restless. You couldn’t wait it out like everyone else in the whole God damn world had to, so you thought it might be fun to try your hand at drug smuggling? Why not? You’re rich, successful. What could really go wrong? A slap on the wrists... maybe?”

“That’s not...”

“What did you think was going to happen, Sherman? Fuck! Bikers! The Fucking Hades Angels! Are you serious – are you really that stupid?! I know you have a bit of a drug problem – I do. Yes, I’m very aware – I'm not an idiot. And I know you’ve had a hard time the last few months. I do. I really... but it doesn’t excuse it. It doesn’t —”

“You don’t know!”

It came out of nowhere. One minute, Sherman was looking down at his feet, acting like a mouse who was desperate not to be seen by the hungry cat a few paces away. The next minute his head was up, his eyes were narrowed, his expression venomous. Sherman came out of his cage.

“You don’t know anything! It’s been so easy for you! You don’t... You even... you’ve had nothing to worry about since you arrived! New apartment? It’s fine, Sherman will find that for me. No job? It’s fine, Sherman will pay for everything for me. Covid? It’s fine, all I have to do is ride it out and I’ll have a job waiting for me afterwards. You haven’t had to worry about a God damn thing!”

Bradley was speechless. But only for a moment. “Is that what you think it’s been like?” he clapped back. “I haven’t had to worry about – how do you think it’s been for me, having to babysit a man-child for the past three months? You think I like having to cook and clean for you? You think I enjoy —”

“Yes, I do.” Sherman was deep in the room now, although Bradley couldn’t remember how it happened. “You love that you have to cook for me, that I can’t do anything on my own. You love that you have all the power and I have none!”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded sarcastically. “I just wish you didn’t know how to wipe your ass. Then I could do that for you too.”

“How about paying your own rent? Can you do that?” Sherman tilted his head and looked at Bradley as if expecting an answer. Bradley didn’t even understand the point he was making. “Before you answer, I’ll tell you what to say. No, you can’t. I know that for fact.”

“Huh...” Bradley blinked. “What does that —”

“Two-hundred a week?! Are you really that fucking stupid! Oh wait, you must be! Either that or you were happy to ignore it while I paid through the mouth for you to live here!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I pay your rent!” Sherman screamed. “Me! That lovely fucking apartment you live in – this one!” He gestured to the practically unlived in apartment. “It costs four-hundred and fifty a week. Not two hundred! I organized to pay the difference for you so you could live here – me! I did it! While you were locked away in that study, reading lines, I was bleeding through my wallet for you? And for what? So, you could look down your nose at me and feel big? Is that why? So please, don’t act like I’m some sort of charity case. We both know that’s not true.”

“You... you were paying...” Bradley didn’t know what to say. He’d had no idea that Sherman was doing that.

“Of course I was,” he sneered. “It was that or you’d be living in a fucking ditch somewhere trying to ‘make it’ as an actor. It’s easy to make it, isn’t it? When you have someone else footing the bills.”

Now it was Bradley’s turn to look down at his feet. He even took a small step back, as if putting that extra little bit of distance between he and Sherman might make some sort of difference. Unlike with Sherman earlier though, Bradley wasn’t staring at his feet because he was embarrassed or ashamed. It was because he couldn’t stand to look at