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

had such a quaint feel to it, like something out of a fairytale. All the houses were narrow and tall and built right against each other. All the buildings looked like they belonged to Medieval times, and even the people themselves appeared happier than any that Bradley had ever seen.

But then he began to notice how long he had been in the taxi. The trip was a little over one kilometer in length, but the drive was taking ages. He pulled out his phone to check and saw that indeed, the driver was taking the long way to the hotel.

“Ah... excuse me...” Bradley started hesitantly. He was never much for confrontation, and the idea of arguing with a taxi driver in a foreign country scared the bejesus out of him.

“Yes, sir?” The driver asked without looking back. He was an older man, maybe fifty or so with dark stubble, darker eyes and the lingering smell of cigarettes on him.

“Um... you know where you’re, ah... going?” Bradley asked.

“I do.”

“Oh... and we’re, ah... going the right way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh... Okay, then.”

What more could he do? He didn’t want to argue or start a fight. And his mind was still primarily on Jackson, and that photo he had uploaded. So instead of saying anything else, Bradley sat back quietly and watched the map on his phone as his driver took him on a joy ride all over the city before finally pulling up out the front of his bed and breakfast.

The B&B that Bradley had booked was in one of those tall, narrow houses that he had been admiring on the way here... only, his room was on the third floor and there was no elevator. Conversely, he ended up being happy that he hadn’t gotten into a fight with the driver, because said driver was only too happy to help Bradley unlock the door – via a very hard to use key – and then carry his bags in and up the stairs for him!

It was once they were back in front of the taxi, sorting out payment, that another problem arose.

“That will be... you know what Steve Irwin, an even fifty will be just perfect,” the driver said pleasantly. He smiled at Bradley like his Steve Irwin reference was enough to disguise the fact that he was also ripping him off.

“Fifty...” And that was when Bradley realized his mistake. “Fifty dollars?” he asked hopefully.

“Euro.”

“Right...” Bradley fiddled with his wallet, opening it wide as if hoping that maybe, somehow, fifty euro would just magically appear there. But of course, that wasn’t the case, with only Australian dollars being on offer. “About the euro...”

It took some serious haggling, and a little bit of internet research to find out the exchange rate, but eventually, Bradley managed to convince the driver to let him pay in Australian dollars, one hundred of them, to be precise. This was now, officially, the most expensive taxi ride that Bradley had ever taken.

When it was all said and done, and Bradley was finally alone in his little Dutch room, he felt like bursting into tears. For some reason, he had just assumed that this travelling thing would be easy. He’d lived his whole life on the fly, so why should now make any difference? Maybe Jackson was right? Maybe he was young and inexperienced?

But that just brought Jackson to the fore of his mind’s eye. His eyes popped in excitement as Bradley whipped his phone out. A moment later and Instagram was open, and... nothing! Over two dozen people had viewed his story and none of them were Jackson.

Bradley felt his heart sink through his stomach. Why hadn’t he checked it yet?! He knew Bradley was here! He knew what he was doing! What could Jackson possibly be doing that was more important...

Without thinking, Bradley hurriedly searched Jackson’s Instagram, opened his story... and then felt that sunken heart literally explode inside his chest.

Jackson hadn’t checked Bradley’s story because he was also out. The location was a club of some description, but Bradley couldn’t tell which one. The fact he was out clubbing was hard enough to take, but what made the whole thing impossible to swallow was who Jackson was out with.

Jefferey Montey! Jefferey Fucking Montey! Jefferey was a ‘friend’ of Jacksons that Bradley just knew wanted to fuck him. He always had, and was so freaking obvious about it too! Even if Jackson always claimed he couldn’t see it. With Bradley out of the way now, and the two men out clubbing together...

Bradley felt sick. He felt ill. He felt like he might literally collapse on the ground and never stand again. He had come all this way, spent all this money, put all this time and effort in, and for what?! Was it all for nothing?!

Bradley seemed to sink into the floor as he watched Jackson’s story over and over again. He was in a club, surrounded by sweaty hot men. They were dancing, they were drinking, they were grinding up against one another. Every now and then one would spot the video Jackson was taking and they’d stick their tongue out, or blow a kiss at the video, or even kiss Jackson on the cheek...

And there was Jefferey the whole time too, hands around Jackson’s waist, his smarmy face grinning at the camera, his pants so fucking hard and tight that he wasn’t even trying to hide his intent. It was disgusting!

For a very long moment, Bradley thought his trip was ruined. Indeed, the idea of pulling out his phone and booking a flight home for first thing in the morning became so strong that his fingers even started typing into Google ‘flights to Australia.’ He hadn’t even realized he was doing it!

But then his phone vibrated with a notification on his Instagram. It wasn’t anything too exciting, just