My Roommate Framed Me for Crashing Car—It’s Owner Was My Brother Chapter 06
I limped over to the wreckage of the carbon–fiber
bike.
Every eye followed me.
I crouched down and felt along the underside of
the broken handlebar.
With everyone watching, I pried open a hidden latch and pulled out a high–definition action camera no bigger than my thumbnail.
That was Grant for you. The bike cost a fortune,
so he’d had a hidden ride recorder
custom–installed in case anything happened to it.
One of Grant’s men immediately handed me a tablet.
I popped out the memory card, slid it into the
tablet, and cast the footage to the large display in the lead G–Wagon.
Then I turned the volume all the way up.
The picture was crystal clear, and the audio was
almost flawless.
The first clip showed the dim mountain road the
night before.
Madison, wearing her cheap workout gear,
straddled the million–dollar bike and took selfie
after selfie.
Then she tried to show off with a wheelie and
crashed hard.
A sharp crack came through the speakers, and the
camera clearly captured a fracture along the
bottom of the frame.
In the video, Madison scrambled to her feet,
panicked, wrapped layer after layer of tape around
the damage, and kept muttering, “Oh my God. Oh
my God.”
The second clip jumped to that morning before
the ride began.
Something covered the lens, but the microphone
had captured two voices clearly.
Ethan and Madison, whispering together in a
corner.
“Ethan, the frame is cracked. It’s going to snap
sooner or later. What are we going to do?”
“We make that idiot Grace ride it. When it breaks,
it’s the broke girl’s problem. Not ours. That’s what
she gets for being stupid.”
“Right. And with everyone there as witnesses,
she’ll have to pay even if she doesn’t want to. We’ll
come out looking like the good guys.”
Their vicious laughter echoed across the open
mountain road.
The evidence was airtight. There was nothing left
to deny.
Every club member who’d defended them went
pale.
Desperate to distance themselves, they turned on
Ethan and Madison almost instantly.
“Madison, you’re seriously sick. I can’t believe you
planned something that twisted!”
“Ethan, you’re disgusting. You teamed up with the
girl you’re cheating with to frame your own
girlfriend?”
“You two are vile! You almost dragged all of us
into this!”
Accusations flew at the couple from every
direction.
Ethan saw everything collapsing around him and
went pale.
He knew exactly what it meant to make an enemy
of the Whitmores, and he turned on Madison
without hesitation.
He rushed at her and jabbed a finger in her face.
“This is all your fault! You’re the one who
manipulated me!”
“Grace, she lied to me! I didn’t know the bike was
stolen. She forced me into this!”
Ethan was trying to wash his hands of the whole
thing and walk away clean.
Cornered and betrayed, Madison finally snapped.
Her eyes burned red with rage.
She tore through her backpack in a frenzy.
Then she yanked out a crumpled sheet of
paper
and smacked it against Ethan’s face.
She screamed until her voice cracked.
“You bastard! Now you’re trying to dump all of this
on me?”
“I’m pregnant with your baby, and you think you can just throw me away now? Not a chance!”
The pregnancy report slid down Ethan’s face and fluttered to the ground.
The black print on the page was unmistakable: four weeks pregnant.
The wind swept past us, and a strange, deathly silence settled over the road.
I looked at Ethan’s ashen face and trembling body,
then laughed and began to clap.
Unbelievable. This disaster had turned into the best show I’d seen all year.
I stepped forward and planted my shoe on the pregnancy report.
“Well, congratulations to both of you. Now, how
are you planning to split the $500,000 repair bill?”