Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 110

BRAYDON’S POV

“And why did you break into a female dorm room?” Officer John asks Bryan. He’s got both of us in his cramped office, his eyes scanning us like he’s trying to catch every twitch.

My palms sting, and my knuckles are wrapped in a gauze already spotting red. I don’t know why he keeps sneaking glances at me, like I’m also guilty.

“I need a lawyer before saying anything,” Bryan mutters beside me.

“Boy, you’ve been watching too many movies,” Officer John says with a flat and tired tone. You broke into a dorm room, destroyed property, and when confronted, you attacked him.” He points at me. “A lawyer will only be useful if you’re hoping for a reduced sentence if the victim presses charges, or if the university decides to step in.”

Bryan says nothing.

“Let’s start simple,” John continues, flipping open his notebook. “Why were you in Katy Evan’s room?”

Bryan shrugs, feigning innocence. “I wasn’t breaking in. I had a key.”

John leans forward. “And how did you get this key? Did she give you permission to use it?”

Bryan’s smirk fades just slightly.

“No, she didn’t.” I can’t help myself but answer. “He jumped her and stole-”

“Mr. Braydon, I wasn’t asking you,” Officer John cuts in, his eyes narrowing. “You will only speak when I ask questions. Understood?”

I nod, leaning back. “Yes.”

John turns back to Bryan. “Continue.”

“I got the key from her,” Bryan says. “And I didn’t jump her. I just… took it.”

My fingers curl under the table, my knuckles itching, but I keep them hidden. I can’t let him rile me enough to slap him.

John writes something down, then looks up. “You just took it,” he repeats. “And the ski mask? What was that for?”

“Boston’s cold,” Bryan answers with another nonchalant shrug.

John clenches his jaw but doesn’t respond, letting the silence stretch.

“Witness says you destroyed personal property,” John continues. “And we recovered pieces of a recording device on the floor. Want to explain that?”

Bryan’s smile tightens. “I broke a pen.”

“Not a pen,” John corrects. “A voice recorder.”

Bryan’s eyes flick for a second. “You don’t even know what was on it. I was recorded without consent.”

“We don’t need to know what was on it,” John replies. “We just need to establish intent. You entered without consent. You concealed your identity, searched the room, destroyed property, and assaulted someone.”

“That hockey prick hit me first,” Bryan snaps, leaning forward. “Call my dad and he’ll explain how my rights were violated. I was only trying to protect myself.”

John doesn’t look moved. “Were you also trying to protect yourself when you sexually harassed two female students at Cadston?”

Bryan freezes, his jaw ticking. He looks genuinely shocked that John knows about the harassment and I can’t help but feel a flicker of surprise myself.

“Then tell me what was on it.”

“I have no-”

“Dad!” Bryan suddenly shouts, cutting me off so sharply I flinch. I turn. He’s gripping the phone hard, his knuckles white, and body tight with panic. “What are you saying?” he snaps into the receiver. “You have the recording from yesterday. You said you did.”

There’s another pause before he adds, his voice cracking, “Dad, are you seriously trying to ditch me? I just need the recording, I’m not asking you to come here!”

I can’t help but smirk internally. If I know that man at all, he’s leaving Bryan to deal with his own mess. He’ll never admit to possessing recordings obtained illegally, no matter what Bryan says. He won’t admit he’s been scheming since the pen was destroyed, the one piece of evidence we had. Bryan is on his own.

“Dad, come on! The officer is saying a bunch of things about intent,” Bryan pleads, desperation bleeding through his voice. “Can you just explain to him that Katy recorded your conversations and this whole thing isn’t my fault? Dad…” The line goes dead. Bryan stares at the phone, disbelief written across his face. “Dad? Hello?”

He frantically redials, over and over, but each attempt goes straight to voicemail. His face tightens, and for the first time, it’s clear: his precious father, his partner in all this, isn’t coming to bail him out.

Bryan’s panic fills the room, and I watch silently, fighting a smile.

John closes his notebook. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says. “Bryan Cooper, you’ll be charged with breaking and entering, malicious destruction of property, and assault. Depending on what the DA finds regarding that recorder, more charges may follow.”

Bryan’s face pales. “You can’t do that.”

“Oh, we can,” John replies evenly. “And I’m very sure Cadston will also open a conduct case. You’ll face disciplinary action there as well.”

Bryan jumps to his feet, his voice rising. “Mr. John… this is a whole misunderstanding! I’m being set up!” He points at me. “He’s setting me up! I didn’t do anything!”

John smiles. “Being charged doesn’t automatically mean you’ll be found guilty. You’ll have your day in court. And yes, you’ll need that lawyer now.”