If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse: A Dark Grumpy Sunshine Romance

Chapter 28

Briar

So, it turns out Rurik memorized my number. Jesus, am I supposed to feel kind of giddy that he memorized my fucking number? And no, I’m not going to text or call him back.

Do I consume his every text as if I”m starved for connection?

Possibly.

But I don’t text back, no matter how much I want to.

He apologized! He’s literally begging you to text and call him back.

No. He must realize that he can’t keep throwing me out like that. It’s fucking tiring, and honestly? I deserve better.

I get another text notification and groan despite immediately opening the text.

RURIK MY ANGEL:

-Answer your fucking phone.

-Briar.

-This isn’t funny. I need to talk to you. Please don’t shut me out.

-You know what I hate the most? When people try to take away my choices for me. That’s what you fucking tried to do, Briar.

-You gave me an ultimatum — a fucking impossible one, if you ask me, because you just don’t understand the whole picture — and expected me to fucking answer immediately?

-I knew you’re fucking crazy.

I glare at the recent text. Usually, I would text him back and say I love his way of flirting, but not this time. He’s been spamming me with calls and texts, and he thinks I’m crazy?

I mean. Okay, yes. I am.

But that’s not the point! I’m the one who spam his inboxes. In fact, I remember being well acquainted with the inside of Rurik’s phone in the beginning.

My phone vibrates again.

RURIK MY ANGEL:

-I messed up, Briar. Big time.

-Can you at least reply back so I know you’re alive?

-I’ll take a fucking emoji at this point.

-Please.

-Please, Briar.

-You looked really beautiful, by the way. I”m sorry I didn”t tell you that.

ME:

-No.

Shit.

No.

Okay, no.

I know what it looks like. But that’s not why I texted him back. I didn”t reply because I felt terrible that he had to resort to begging. I replied because he was bothering the hell out of me, and I need to focus. I’m at Nat and Oscar’s place, and we”re here to discuss our little senator problem.

But God. Fucking. Damn it.

He’s so adorable when he’s feeling guilty.

After hearing what Rurik told them, I told Nat and Oscar everything about me and Rurik. Rurik was adamant about keeping us a secret, so imagine my fucking surprise when I found out from my friends that he also confided in them everything—from when I pursued him to how he never stood a chance with me.

They both looked understanding when I told them I didn’t want to talk about Rurik anymore. Nat told me ending things can be seen as a blessing in disguise because this means I can channel all my energy and focus on bringing down Philip Greene.

But it’s still hard because the asshole keeps texting and calling me, leaving voicemails that range from desperate to angry.

I may have saved all of them.

“Briar. I’m not going to come over because I’m sure you’ll change the locks again, and I don’t want to look like a fucking creep standing outside your door. But answer your phone.”

“I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Can we please talk?”

“You’re still fucking mine, Briar.”

If I were any other ordinary woman, I would freak out and consider getting a restraining order or something. But I”m not ordinary — I’m extraordinary, according to Rurik one time — and I sure as fuck not freaking out. In fact, witnessing him freaking out like this is stirring something within me, and... I”m loving it.

I can’t help but feel a bit smug.

In your stupid, handsome face, Rurik.

I knew this man has feelings for me.

Stupid asshole.

“I know you’re happy about getting justice, but you don’t need to be smiling like that,” Nat interrupts my thoughts. My head snaps up as I stare at her.

“Like what?” I ask, blinking stupidly.

Nat smirks, a brow rising as she leans forward and points at my mouth. “Like that.”

“Stop judging her,” Oscar teases his wife. “Maybe discussing kidnapping the senator gives her all those warm fuzzy feelings.”

“You’re not wrong,” I grin, putting my phone away. “Murderous can be warm and fuzzy.”

“There she is,” Nat throws an arm around my neck and kisses my cheek. “Welcome back, bitch. Now, how do you want to do this?”

Oh, right. I need to focus on what’s important right now, though, which was hard for me initially because I sometimes kept forgetting the link between the senator and Rurik.

“You guys are the usual masterminds,” I shrug. “I’ll do whatever you guys think is right. All I ask is you leave Philip Greene to me.”

“Okay, the senator will be a guest speaker in this charity event this weekend,” Nat says, pulling up her laptop to show us the pamphlet for the event.

For a brief moment, a cold sensation washes over me before anger bubbles up from within.

The event is to honor and support overseas workers from third-world countries. To thank them for their hard work and to raise money to help a few lucky workers send them home for a well-deserved vacation break.

It’s such a generous event, and I had no idea it existed.

But the fact that Philip Greene is a fucking guest speaker?

Him?

My mind immediately flashes Amaura’s face.

Despite it being so many years ago, I can still hear her screams and the way it suddenly stopped. I didn’t understand what was happening then because I was only a child. But that type of shit stuck with me growing up.

I once tried to talk to a therapist recommended by Mr. Rogers about that. She said something about childhood trauma and all that, but I stopped going.

“How ironic,” I mutter after reading the event’s information. “So what, we go to this event and just take him?”

“Well, we have to be smart about it,” Oscar says. “We have to take his safety measures out first.”

“Like the guards.”

“Yeah. All of them. I’m sure there will be some hiding in the crowd pretending to be guests. There’s probably going to be some on standby all spread around.”

“How will we find them all and take them individually?” I ask, frowning. “I don’t doubt our skills, but it sounds like this is going to be a very busy event, and we can’t exactly do what we want and expect no witnesses.”

“Right,” Oscar nods. “I have someone on the inside. Mike. He will be assigned to be part of his bodyguard team with the senator. There will be three more men the senator will hire, and we’ll focus on taking them down first.”

“Dad will have his team spread around, too,” Nat assures me. “We’ll have everything covered, don’t worry.”

“It just seems too easy,” I say.

Oscar nods, “Yeah, but anything can happen, right? We’ll be fine. Mr. Rogers will be with us. We’ll wear the earpieces he gave us, and we’ll be able to hear and communicate that way.”

I may still look skeptical because Nat adds, “We’re going to stick together.”

“If shit hits the fan, we stop, okay?” Oscar says. “Like if we lose contact with any of our men, we stop. We don’t continue.”

“Okay, yeah.” I sigh before nodding. “We got this. We stick to the plan, listen to each other, always communicate, and stop when things get suspicious.”

Nat and Oscar grin.

They’re confident, so why shouldn’t I be?

*-*-*-*

“How are you feeling, little one?”

I open my eyes and glance over at Mr. Rogers sitting beside me. Shit, I must have been so tired because I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep leaning against their armchair.

“Uh, good.” My voice sounds hoarse from my nap. I clear my throat as I sit up. “I’m fine. How are you?”

He smirks. “Good. How are you feeling about what we’re going to do tomorrow?”

I grin. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, of course. I can’t believe we’re fucking doing this, finally.”

“We’re doing this for you,” He reminds me. “So if you need anything from us, you’ll tell us?”

“Yeah, of course,” I frown. “Why? Is there something you think I need?”

“Is there something you think you do need?”

“I fucking hate mind games, Mr. Rogers.”

“I fucking hate being called Mr. Rogers by you kids. Just call me Drake.”

“No.”

“Fucking brat.”

“So I’ve been called.”

“Natalie’s been telling me about someone who happens to be the senator’s stepson.”

I drop my teasing and grimace. “Okay?”

“Is he going to be a problem?”

I blink. “What? What are you saying… Oh! No!” My eyes widen as a sudden rush of anxiety hits me. “No! Rurik”s okay. He won”t be a problem. At least, I don”t think so.”

Mr. Rogers just stares at me, his eyes unblinking. It’s like he’s trying to peer through my brain and read my thoughts, and I don’t like it.

I glare. “I’m serious. Rurik is fine.”

“So that’s his name,” He says slowly. A small smirk formed across his face. “Rurik.”

“We’re not a thing anymore if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried…Wait, he’s that boy that threatened me during Natalie and Oscar’s wedding.” He raises a brow. “The painter.”

“What do you want?” I grunt, crossing my arms.

Mr. Rogers just shrugs. “I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Is that wrong?”

“Okay, Dad,” I say in a playful mocking tone. “I promise, Rurik is perfect—”

“Don’t. I bet you call him Daddy too—”

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t need to hear what he’s good at.” He interrupts, his face twisting into a feigning look of disgust.

After a few minutes of us exchanging disgusted looks, his face softens. “I just felt like I needed to remind you that despite us not being blood-related, you’re our family.”

Oh.

I look away, nodding. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

Jesus, my heart feels heavy now.

“You’ll come to us if you need help?” He presses. “We’re going after the senator for you, Briar. I hope that proves nothing we won’t do for you.”

Without thinking, I throw my arms around him and bury my face against his side. “Thank you. I know. You, Nat, Oscar, Mrs. Rogers… You guys are my family.”

“Emma asks about you often,” He grins down at me, his face lighting up as he mentions his wife. “She’ll be home in time for your birthday. If you can’t speak to me about anything, come to her?”

I nod. Emma Rogers has been the mother I wish I had grown up with. Of course, I’ll go to her.

After Mr. Rogers is satisfied with my answers and is reassured that Rurik won’t be a problem for our plan tomorrow, I’m left alone again.

I should go home.

But if I do, that means I’ll be alone. And when I’m alone, it gets dark, and the voices in my head return.

Lately, the darkness and the voices have barely shown up, though. I’m assuming one reason is the constant buzzing on my phone—like now.

I pull my phone out and see a voicemail waiting for me.

“Hey. It’s me again. Rurik, in case you forgot about me.” He releases a deep sigh. “It’s only been a few days, and I feel like I’m going crazy. You’re being seriously unfair. Why the fuck did you pursue me only to walk away? I’m sorry about my cousins. I told them about you, by the way.” He pauses before chuckling. “I know, a little too late. Can you just… Can you please call me back? I’ll settle for you telling me to fuck off. Please? I really need to talk to you about something. Okay. I’ll try again later. Bye.” He pauses for a few more seconds before adding, “Call me back, please.”

Aww, fuck.

Fuck me.

Motherfucking fucker that gives all the fucks.

I’m losing the will to remain cold and continue ignoring him.

How can I keep ignoring him when he sends me voicemails? He rarely does that. Actually, has he ever?

Fuck.

Tomorrow. I’ll call him after tomorrow. Once justice is served, everything will be better.

I just know it.

*-*-*-*

“Thank you all for having me here. With great humility and gratitude, I stand before you today at this remarkable event honoring our migrant workers. These dedicated workers, often far from home and loved ones, represent the essence of dedication and sacrifice.”

I roll my eyes and mutter, “Such bullshit.”

Nat snickers beside me as we continue to listen to some speech Philip is saying some intern probably wrote that.

“I am deeply honored to be part of this noble cause and express our heartfelt appreciation for their work. And let us not forget the families left behind, who endure their sacrifices, supporting their loved ones from afar.”

Applauses and shouts of support erupt from the crowd, and Philip pauses to wave at them all.

My eyes roll for the 100th time today.

“Let us take steps to ensure their well-being and provide them with the support and resources they need to be successful. Let’s create a future where every worker is valued and respected.”

“What were the steps to ensure Amaura’s well-being, Chef Greene? Was she valued and respected? Was her work appreciated?” I scoff under my breath before turning to Nat. “I can’t listen to this anymore.”

“I think he’s wrapping up,” She says.

I look back at him, and sure enough, he’s smiling and waving at the crowd again as if he genuinely believes the words he just said.

“Okay, ladies,” Oscar’s voice filters in our earpiece. “Mike will be leading him off the stage, but they changed his position at the last minute. He won’t be with them. It’ll just be the three. One guard will be watching his back. The other two will be walking on either side of him but keeping their distance and eyeing for potential threats.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait to see these hot, beefy men,” I tease. “How do we know which ones are they?”

“They’ll be hot and beefy,” Nat grins. “Question. Will they be all in uniform? And will the uniform be tight-fitting? I hope not. I’m a sucker for men in uniform.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Oscar snaps. “We’re going to talk about this.”

“Good,” Nat chirps. “I’ve been waiting for you to bring dressing up into the mix.”

“I hope your dad isn’t listening,” I say while Nat and I walk through the crowd to blend in.

“I don’t want to know the kind of fucking nonsense you three are talking about,” Mr. Rogers grunts. “Focus on the target.”

“They’re about to enter the back of the building,” Oscar says. “We need to move fast.”

We immediately switched gears. Instead of heading to the courtyard, where everyone is expected to go for the festivities, we followed Philip and his guards. Thanks to Mike, Oscar immediately described how each guard looked.

We hide in the corner, watching as they turn to enter the building, with one of the guards falling back to stand watch. We both put on our black masks to conceal our faces from any security cameras that might be scattered outside.

“I got him,” Nat murmurs. I watch as I stay hidden in the shadows while Nat sneaks up from him and takes him down with a quick dart to the neck. It won’t kill the man, but it would knock him out for a day. Maybe a few days if we’re being generous.

She turns around and gives me the Okay signal.

I rush to her, frowning at the unconscious guard. “That was fast.”

“I think he’s new,” She shrugs. “He wasn’t even paying attention.”

“One down, two more to go,” I say as we scan our surroundings.

We hear voices and footsteps ahead of us and quickly follow so we don’t lose them. However, we must have been too loud because one guard whirls around in time to see us rushing in.

He opens his mouth to warn Philip and the other guard, but I punch his throat. He falls on his knees, coughing. Unfortunately, that got the other”s attention, and they immediately ran.

“Fuck,” I mutter, already going in their direction.

“Get them. I’ll take care of him,” Nat says. She puts a hand on her earpiece and says, “They saw, and they’re running.”

“Do you need back-up?” Mr. Rogers immediately asks. “Do you need to retreat?”

“No,” I snap. “I think it’s just the other guard now. I got this.”

I pump my legs faster to close the distance between us, watching as they round the corner. Clenching my jaw and using as much strength as possible, I hurl myself at guard number three. He grunts, attempting to retaliate, but I’m too quick. As I move to apply pressure on his neck, he seizes my wrists and twists, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my arm.

“Briar!” Nat’s voice crackles through my earpiece. “Are you okay?”

Ignoring her, I focus on the guard.

“Why are you protecting someone who is so shitty?” I glare up at him as he maneuvers over me, his hand inching towards the gun at his waist.

Without hesitation, I draw my trusty dagger from its hidden sheath and drive it into his thigh. He yelps, and I use his pain as the perfect opportunity to incapacitate him with a swift blow to the throat.

I steal the guard’s gun and whirl around to see Philip running like a coward. Ignoring the pain on my wrist, I run after him. Unfortunately for him, the door he tries to go through is locked.

“Fuck,” Philip mutters in frustration, shaking and pounding on the door.

He whirls around, scanning the surroundings until his gaze locks on another open door. He sees me coming and darts through the door. Groaning, I quickly run after him, only to slow down as I realize it”s just an empty room, and I find myself standing in his path to the exit.

“Wait,” Philip lifts his hands when he sees me approaching. “Wait. What do you need? Money? I’ll—”

“I don’t want your stupid money,” I snap, slamming the door shut behind me.

He”s trapped in this room with just me now. I can”t help but grin.

“Briar! Update!” Mr. Rogers demands.

I press the earpiece and mutter, “I got him. We’re inside an empty office room upstairs just north of the building. His guards are down but not dead. Mr. Rogers, I got him.” I could cry with relief.

Justice is literally right here in front of me.

Philip gulps, his face getting pale.

“I liked your speech,” I told him, stepping closer. “I enjoyed the part where you mentioned appreciating and helping migrant workers and all that. You must know plenty of hard-working, kind migrant workers. Is that why you agreed to this gig?”

Philip nearly trips as he backs away. He steadies himself and looks up. He opens his mouth to speak but freezes. “Wait, you look familiar…”

I stiffen. Does he remember me?

How? I have a mask on. He can’t possibly—

“The airport attack,” Philip whispers. “You were there. You’re wearing the same mask, aren’t you? You and some others tried to kill me and my family—”

“Briar!” Nat”s voice suddenly screams in my ear. “You have to leave! His security is barging through the building. Oscar and I tried to slow them down, but there were too many.”

“Do as she says, Briar,” Mr. Rogers adds urgently.

What? No! No, he”s right here! “But—”

“Now!” Mr. Rogers”s voice is firm, with a rare urgency.

Fuck. He never yells at me.

I grit my teeth, tightening my hold on my dagger. I had swiped the gun from the guard earlier and use it to point it at the senator’s forehead with my good hand.

“Please! No, no, please!” Philip shakes his head, looking like he’s seconds away from pissing on himself. “I have a family! Tell me what you want, and I’ll—”

“Briar!” Oscar warns. “There should be an emergency exit down the hall from where you are. Head there now, Natalie, and I will meet you there.”

Fuck.

FUCK.

I don’t want to end Philip”s life like this. I prefer to savor it, to take it nice and slow.

With a growl, I strike the side of his head with the end of the gun’s grip. He releases a feeble sound and crumples, blood already flowing. Kneeling beside him, I press two fingers against his throat, seeking his pulse.

Disappointed that he”s still alive but glad for the opportunity to prolong his suffering, I rise to my feet and tap on the earpiece. ”Okay, I”m on my way.”

I swing open the door and follow Oscar’s directions, sprinting down the hallway.

“Hurry!” Nat says. Worry and fear lace her tone for the first time in so long.

Rounding a corner, I nearly twist my ankle when I collide with a large figure who is also turning the corner.

“Shit!” I groan, nearly stumbling backward, but firm hands grip my arms, steadying me—strong, familiar hands. I look up, my eyes locking with Rurik’s.

Shit.

Rurik”s gaze locks onto me, his eyes widening, jaw slack, and complexion paling. His fingers clench tighter around my arms as his gaze swiftly scans me from head to toe. Returning to meet my eyes, his own widen even further.

Oh fuck. He’s here. Of course, he’s here. Also, is it just me, or does he sound relieved?

No, that”s probably just the adrenaline playing tricks on my mind.

God, I must miss him.

”Briar,” Rurik whispers, his eyes locked onto mine. “Oh God... Briar?”

What the…

HOW.

I’m wearing a fucking mask.

How the fuck did he recognize me?

“Briar, where are you?” Mr. Rogers calls in my ear.

Ignoring the pain in my wrist, I push Rurik away from me and bolt past him, tuning out his shouts and pleas for me to stop.

After I caught up with Nat and Oscar, we met with Mr. Rogers to discuss what happened. I was extremely pissed over the fact that I had Philip right then and there, only for him to slip away from me due to timing.

If only we had attacked sooner. If only we had taken down those guards minutes earlier. If only, if only. But whatever. I gave Philip a good scare, and now he’s probably freaking the fuck out and looking behind him everywhere he goes, expecting me to come out.

Soon.

Right now, I’m exhausted, and my wrist hurts like hell.

Nat pleaded for me to stay with them so their doctor could examine my wrist, but I’m fine. It’s not broken; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to shove Rurik out of my way. No, I’m pretty sure it’s just sprained.

After getting out of the shower and changing into my pajamas, I”m in the kitchen. I attempted to wrap my wrist, but doing it with one hand proved challenging. A part of me kept thinking that if Rurik were here, he would have wrapped it up for me in no time.

God... I can”t believe he was at the event today. I mean, I could believe it. Of course, he would be there to support his stepdad doing his fake angelic duties. Philip is fake, not Rurik.

He’s still my angel.

Even though I’m still pissed at him.

Shit, there I go again, thinking about him again.

”Get it together, stupid,” I mutter out loud.

Wincing, I attempt to grip the wooden spoon and stir the pot with my sprained wrist. After a few stirs, I switch back to my good wrist. Sighing, I walk over to the freezer to grab an ice pack and set it on the kitchen counter. Placing my sprained wrist on top of it, I continue stirring.

I lift the wooden spoon to my lips and blow, preparing to taste-test the tomato soup, when I immediately freeze at the sound.

My door just swung open, and heavy footsteps comes barging in.

Fuck.

Philip’s men are here to get me. Philip recognized me, and now he wants my blood or something.

I gently place the wooden spoon back in the pot to avoid giving away my location and grab a kitchen knife from the knife block. Quickly, I retreat into my walk-in pantry, allowing the darkness to swallow and conceal me as I wait.

It only takes a few seconds, but I spot a tall shadow entering my kitchen. The person pauses, and I hold my breath. Then I see them inching closer to where I”m hiding and immediately pounce.

I shove my body weight against theirs, and they collide with the kitchen counter. Before they can fight back, I swiftly press the blade of the knife against their throat, my sanity teetering on the edge of snapping as I prepare to cut them open. I look up at their face, ready to ask them what the fuck they’re doing in my house.

But then I”m met with bright blue, wide eyes staring back at me.

And then I freeze.

“Rurik?” I choke out. “What are you doing here?”