Chapter 24
EMRIS
Leaving Brielle to herself last night was harder than I expected.
Every instinct in me wanted more. I wanted to watch her come undone, but I held back.
I won’t cross that line until she’s certain she’s ready, until there’s no hesitation or regret that might come later.
When we finally go all the way, it will be because she’s ready, and I can live with that.
I went back in there a few hours later to find her fast asleep, only to wake her up so I could clean her up.
She didn’t say a single word to me the whole time, even as I watched her visibly relax when I was washing her body, but she’s still pissed at me.
Part of me doesn’t mind, because I don’t see her pulling that shit again, and the other half of me is still fucking turned on.
Now we’re on our way to Jamestown—a smaller town on the outskirts of Washington—and the silence in the car is almost suffocating.
The hum of the tires against the asphalt, usually a somewhat comforting sound, now just feels like it’s mocking me.
Brielle’s in the passenger seat, staring out the window with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her entire posture screams “leave me alone.”
Fine, message received.
I’m not in any kind of mood to deal with her attitude, not when the pressure of finding Susie is still hovering over me like a dark storm cloud.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, but the ache in my hands is a distraction from the storm inside me.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye again.
She’s utterly still, gaze fixed on the passing scenery as if the tall pine trees outside are more interesting than anything I could say.
The tension in the car crawls all over my skin.
The air is thick with everything we aren’t saying.
My jaw clenches as I swallow the urge to snap, to demand she stop acting like I don’t exist, but it won’t get me anywhere.
It would only make things worse. At least Carson was smart enough to take his own car.
I think that helped calm Brielle enough to keep her under control. She doesn’t seem to hate Carson, but she’s mad at him for everything that went down after she stole my car, and she’s clearly still pissed at me for tying her to my bed.
The silence is irritating me the longer we drive, so I flick on the radio, in hopes it’ll fill the void. Some love song spills through the speakers about a couple coming together and fighting, and a laugh slips out before I can stop it. She shoots me a glare.
“Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with you, Brielle?” She doesn’t even acknowledge me. It’s like I’m fighting with a goddamn statue.
I slam my palm against the steering wheel; the sharp sound cuts through the car. Brielle flinches and looks over, shock lingering in her green eyes.
“You can’t fucking ignore me forever, Brielle,” I say, loosening my grip and taking a deep breath. “We are stuck in this car for another hour, you know.”
Her lips press into a thin line as she looks back out the window, not even whispering a single word to me. The silence that follows is loud. “Fine,” I mutter. “Be that way, but remember—I always win in the end.”
The road stretches out ahead of us, endless and unchanging. Just like the distance between us.
An hour later, we’re finally here. The hotel towers above us, the glass reflecting the evening light that’s basically gone now and is well over twenty stories.
It looms over us like a monument to everything I wish this trip wasn’t turning into.
I wish we were here for us. For me to pamper her the way she deserves, but not this time.
I have too many important things hanging over my head, too many things I need to take care of while we are here.
Brielle climbs out of the car as soon as we roll to a stop. Her steps seem a tad lighter than before, and by the way she looks around, taking in the giant hotel before us, she seems too enthralled by the hotel to be mad.
I grab the bags from the trunk, not wanting anyone else to touch her stuff, and slam it closed before handing the keys off to the valet driver. He gives me a nod and thanks before I walk to the automatic doors.
The automatic glass doors open with a soft whoosh, spilling us into the lobby that screams luxury—polished marble floors, and chandeliers dripping with crystals.
The ceiling is so high it seems to disappear the more you look up.
Brielle doesn’t spare me a single glance, her focus on the decor as if she’s never seen anything like it before.
I approach the front desk, my shoes clicking against the marble flooring. Brielle follows, but keeps her distance.
“Good evening, sir,” the woman behind the desk greets, her trained smile never falters. Her gaze flickers to me, slightly widening as if recognizing me, and I stifle a sigh.
Not now.
“Good evening,” I reply, keeping my tone as measured as possible. She reaches for the keys, which works out for me because I have no patience to deal with this right now.
“Everything has been prepared. Mr.—” I cut her off before she yells out my name. I don’t want anyone to know I’m in town yet, and that’ll go right out the window if this woman keeps yelling. Her face blushes as she pushes the penthouse key across the counter toward me.
“Thanks.” I don’t miss the way she glanced at where Brielle is standing as if trying to piece together the dynamic between us.
But of course, Brielle doesn’t make it easy.
She stands a few feet away, examining a fake plant as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
I shake my head, stepping closer to her.
“Are you done examining the fake Ficus, or would you like my cousin’s number so you can tell him about how he should upgrade?” I ask, pocketing the key for now and waiting. She side-eyes me, but I don’t miss the small smirk before she scoffs.
“Let’s go,” she says, some of her attitude disappearing more by the second. By the time we’re in the elevator, her shoulders slump, and I can see some of the tension leave her body, and even if it’s just a little, it’s enough for now.