Chapter One #2
She peered at the message for the longest moment, waiting to see if she would type back. Hoping the tiny three-dot bubble would appear.
Nothing.
She didn’t want to call Chloe. They hadn’t spoken in a long time and the last time they did they’d argued. But she had to call her. Opening her contacts again, she scrolled through until she found her and then punched the mobile number to dial.
It rang four times, then the voicemail picked up. “Hi! It’s Chloe. Leave a message!”
Brianna hesitated. “Chloe…it’s Brianna. Listen, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, but I feel like something is wrong. Are you okay? Where’s Evie? I can’t get her. Call me back.”
She ended the call.
She was still staring at the silent phone in her hand when there was a faint knock on her door. Grayson stood in the doorway with a concerned look on his face.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
She bit her bottom lip. “I can’t get in touch with my sisters.”
“Your sisters?”
She had never spoken of them, so likely it was a surprise to Grayson.
“The twins,” she said, as if that elaboration would make him understand.
“You have twin sisters?”
“Fraternal,” she clarified, distracted. “Evie and Chloe.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said, sounding nonchalant.
He advanced into the room. Sweat gleamed on his naked torso.
He reached for her, plucking the phone out of her hand and tossing it to the unmade bed.
His hands slid around her waist as he leaned in for a kiss.
She put a hand on his chest and pushed him away, unable to shake the feeling something was off.
“Stop.” Her voice was sharp. He pulled back, releasing her, the surprise evident. She shoved out of his arms and reached for her phone again. “Something is wrong.”
She tried calling Evie again. Again, voicemail. Then she tried Chloe. It rang but went to voicemail. She tried texting both of them.
“I’m sure they’re all right—”
“No.” She spun toward him as the detective’s words came back to her, haunting her. “They’re not all right. Something happened to them. A detective called me. He said—”
“All of a sudden you have sisters who need you. Sisters you’ve never told me about.” Confusion followed by disbelief was clear on his face.
“I know it sounds weird, but—”
“Are you screwing some other guy?”
“What? No!” She quickly scrolled through the pictures on her phone looking for proof they existed.
She came across the one photo she’d managed to keep—of the three of them on the twins’ graduation day.
She shoved the phone toward him. “Look. Me, Evie, and Chloe the day they graduated from high school.”
Grayson stared at it for a long moment, then his gaze flickered back to her. “You expect me to believe this?”
“Yes.”
The anger punched through the worry as she glared at him.
She dropped the phone to her side. The need to go pounded through her.
She spun in the room, looking for her bag.
It was discarded on the other side, empty.
When she unpacked, she thought she would be staying a while.
She stomped to it and snatched it off the floor, then went to the dresser and flung open the drawer.
She shoved what few clothes she had inside.
“What are you doing?” he asked, standing in the middle of the room looking befuddled.
“Packing,” she said on a huff. She bent and found her suitcase stuffed under the bed. With a yank, she pulled it out, flung it on the bed and then went to the closet.
“You’re…you’re leaving?”
She pulled the clothes off the hangers, wadded them into a ball, and tossed them into the suitcase. Then she went to the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush and other toiletries, as much as she could carry in her hands, and dumped them in the suitcase.
“You’re leaving me,” he said as though he was dumbstruck.
She paused in her frantic packing to look up at him. His handsome face contorted in shock. He was used to being the one to break it off with women. Not the other way around.
“I’m leaving, period,” she said. Then resumed packing.
She shoved everything she could into the suitcase and zipped it closed.
One glance down at her attire and she realized she had to put on real clothes.
He stood and watched as she pulled white linen pants on over her bikini bottoms, then reached for a gauzy white shirt and pulled it on.
She’d deal with getting dressed in real clothes as soon as she was out of the house.
The only problem was the only way off the island was by his private yacht. She slipped on her sandals and turned to him. He still stood in the center of the room, dumbfounded.
“I’m going to need you to take me to Nassau,” she said.
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“But…why?”
“Because I have to get off this godforsaken island and find my sisters. I think they’re in trouble,” she said. Then she took a deep breath, expelled it. “I’m going to Scotland.”
“Scotland?” he repeated. Then he started to laugh like it was the best joke.
Fury pounded through her. “Yes, Scotland. That’s where they are. I need to find them.”
What was the point of telling him? He wouldn’t believe her. He didn’t even believe they existed. And that was on her. She was the one who kept everything locked inside, the one who never let anyone close. Concrete barriers around her heart kept her safe, sure—but at what cost?
She clutched her suitcase so tightly her hand cramped. If he wasn’t going to take her off this island, she’d have to find another way. Huffing, she started for the door, shoving past him.
He grabbed her arm as she breezed by, halting her. She looked up at him, met his gaze gleaming with anger and confusion.
“Just like that? You’re leaving?” he asked.
He didn’t seem to comprehend the suitcase in her hand or the determination pumping through her.
“Yes, I’m leaving. If you’re not going to take me to Nassau, I’ll find another way.”
His mouth twitched into a faint grin. “You will, huh?”
She jerked her arm free. “I’ve enjoyed your company but now it’s time for me to go.”
“For these phantom sisters of yours. Sure. Okay. I’ll play.” He folded his arms across his bare chest, his smirk like a knife to her patience. “When are you coming back?”
Her anger flared, scorching and uncontrollable. She took a step closer, her voice sharp enough to cut. “Coming back? Oh, I didn’t realize you were worried about losing your favorite toy. Is that all I am to you? A distraction to pass the time?”
He frowned. “It’s not like that, Bri—”
“Then what is it like?”
He was silent as he pressed his lips together, his gaze searching hers. As though he were looking for answers or the truth. The air whooshed out of her as her shoulders drooped.
“You don’t believe me.”
“How can I believe you when you never even mentioned sisters? You’ve never told me much about yourself except that you’re from Texas. I don’t even know your birthday or your favorite color.”
He was right. Six months together, and she’d kept her life locked away, hidden behind walls he’d never even tried to breach.
She’d given him bits and pieces—a few underwater photos, stolen intimate moments, sips of his expensive wine.
But most of her time was spent on the beach, not in his house.
She’d used him as much as he’d used her.
And that was intentional. Feelings were a liability, a weakness she couldn’t afford.
She’d built walls around her heart, brick by unyielding brick, each one a hard-earned defense.
Letting those walls crumble for him? Never.
He wasn’t the settling-down kind. He was a playboy through and through, and if she stayed, he’d shatter her heart into pieces.
“I’m sorry, Grayson. But I really have to go.”
She spun on her heel and headed for the door, the suitcase bumping along behind her. Everything she owned was crammed into that single case. Her whole life, reduced to a suitcase and a carry-on. The thought tightened her chest.
He didn’t try to stop her as she made her way through the house, down the stairs, and to the front door. How the hell was she going to get off this island?
She flung open the door and stomped into the late morning sun, the warm Caribbean breeze fluttering through her long hair, lifting it from her shoulders.
The luxury car he drove sat in the driveway, gleaming in the morning sun. If only she’d thought to grab his keys, she’d be on her way to the dock. Then she could take his yacht to the port and get to the airport and get out.
As she stood there contemplating her next steps, a jingle of keys behind her caught her attention.
Grayson stood in the doorway still wearing his swim trunks.
But he’d pulled on a well-worn t-shirt and stuck his feet in flip-flops.
A grim expression was on his face as he pulled the front door closed.
“Get in.”
He walked around to the driver’s side and pulled open the door. She was so stunned, she didn’t move a step.
“Are you going to get in or what?” he snapped before he ducked and got into the car.
It was enough to spur her into motion. She hurried to the car and placed her bags in the backseat, then slid into the passenger seat. She buckled her seatbelt as he started the car and put it into gear.
“Thank you, Grayson,” she said, her voice quiet.
He was silent as he pulled out of the driveway and headed away from the mansion to the dock.