Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IAN
Waiting on the sidelines is torture.
Knowing Rose is on her own—okay, not on her own, but I’m not with her—is even harder than I’d thought it would be.
It’s not that I think she’s incapable of taking care of herself. Obviously, she’s managed quite well for years without me. But this is different. The person behind this sick plot could be here, waiting for an opportunity to hurt Rose again. And she has no idea who it might be. All it’ll take is a missed cue or a minor delay and everything could go sideways.
Yes, my friends are here to keep her safe. It’s not the same. No matter how much I trust and respect them, no one cares more about keeping Rose safe than me.
I’m stuck lingering in the kitchen, messing with trays of appetizers while I try to surreptitiously keep an eye on the room. Every so often, a guest comes in and gives me a look, like, why are you in here and not out where the party is? Where your girlfriend is?
If only I could be. Instead, I’m in here, she’s out there, and all I can do is wait for the signal to move.
Even though, logically, I know Rose is safe right now—there’s someone stationed in every room she could be in—worried thoughts keep slipping in. What if she’s grabbed in the hallway? What if this person is here and crazy enough to try to hurt Rose in front of everyone? They could pull out a knife, a gun, they could shoot her right there in the living room?—
With a small beep, the tiny earpiece I’m wearing finally, finally , comes to life. A moment later, Finn’s voice comes through. “She’s headed to the solarium. I have a visual of her on the cameras; she’s alone.”
“Good.” Low and commanding, Cole gives the next order. “Move in. One at a time. Try not to draw any attention.”
This is it. The next minutes could end in disappointment or danger.
Rose could end up alone in the solarium. The asshole behind her attacks could either not be here, or choose not to take the bait.
Or the fucker could take advantage of Rose’s vulnerability and try to hurt her.
Although my instinct is to run, I force myself to walk slowly. Casually. Glancing at my phone from time to time, like I’m distracted by something. Until I slip into the darkened den just off the solarium and spot Finn, Zane, and Cole huddled around a desk with a laptop on it, and rush over to them.
There have to be twenty camera feeds active, but the one of the solarium is expanded to fill half of the screen. And there, standing by a window, so brave and beautiful it makes my heart ache, is Rose. She’s inspecting a sculpture of the Headless Horseman, trailing her fingers along the smooth lines of metal, her posture relaxed, her expression contemplative.
It’s a good act, if not for the slight trembling of her fingers and the rigid jut of her chin. Or the way she reaches up to touch one of her earrings, as if she’s reassuring herself that it’s there.
Oh . This need to be with her. Even though we’re only separated by a door and a few dozen feet, it feels miles too far.
“It’s okay,” Finn says quietly, casting a quick look in my direction. “She’s doing great. Talked to everyone; it seemed like people were buying her story about being fully healed.”
“Brand? Diem? Are they here?” I quickly scan the rest of the video feeds, searching for the faces I’ve only seen in photos, but never in person.
Finn nods. “Yes. Rose spoke to both of them briefly.”
The door opens and Cash comes in, his features like stone. Once he shuts the door behind him, he says, “Brand was looking for Rose. Just a minute ago. I overheard someone pointing him towards the solarium, so?—”
A voice comes through the laptop speakers, and we all fall silent.
“Rosalyn. So glad to have found you alone.”
Brand.
His gaze fixed on Rose, practically undressing her with his eyes. Shoulders back, chin up, the posture of someone who thinks he’s above the rest of us. His tone is outwardly friendly, but something more sinister lurks just beneath it.
She freezes, sucking in a sharp breath, then turns and smiles at him. “Brand. What are you doing in here?”
He beams at her, clearly not realizing her smile is patently fake. “We didn’t have enough time to speak before, I’m afraid. And with all the people around, I really wanted to speak with you in private.” Moving closer, he extends his hand to Rose. “If I could just have a few minutes of your time.”
A growl rumbles deep in my chest. My hands fist instinctively. I want to run in there and drag him away from her. Not stand here ineffectively watching.
Rose steps back, just out of range. “What did you want to talk about?”
Anger darkens his features, but it’s gone a moment later. Carefully pleasant, he says, “The arrangement I offered you before. It’s still on the table. In fact… I’d be willing to add some additional… perks. A car. Trips for inspiration. Bonuses.”
Her brows draw into an unhappy V. “It’s a generous offer, but I wasn’t interested before, and I’m not now. I prefer supporting myself. But thank you.”
“Oh, come on, Rose. Living in this nothing town? Putting on some second-rate show at a local’s home? This isn’t success. Not like you deserve.”
Rose crosses her arms in front of her, and her chin lifts defiantly. “It’s not a nothing town. I like it here.”
Brand’s eyes narrow. “So you’re turning me down? Again ?”
“I am.” Her voice is firm. “I hope you’ll accept that.”
He glowers and takes a step closer to her. “And if I don’t?”
We all lean toward the screen, muscles tensed, on high alert.
“What will you do?” A tiny wobble tells me just how scared Rose is, and I’m a second from going in there and ending this right now. “Try to ruin my career? Or worse?”
He blinks, almost looking surprised. “No.” A pause. “No, Rose. Despite what you’ve heard of me, I won’t do anything to harm your career. You’re much too talented.”
Rose sags imperceptibly. “Oh.”
“But if you change your mind—” He turns and strides toward the door, stopping just before heading through it. “The offer stands. I would very much like to work with you.”
Once he leaves, Rose drags a shaking hand across her face. Her eyes close, and she takes a deep breath. Then she touches her bracelet and says quietly, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
Safe for now? Yes. Okay? I’m not so sure.
Through clenched teeth, I tell Zane, “I’m not convinced. He didn’t look happy when she turned him down.”
“I know,” Zane agrees, and everyone else—Finn, Cole, Grant, Cash, and Oliver—nods along with him.
“Leo’s looking into his finances,” Cole says. “And I have a friend out in Texas who’s searching for anything on the dark web.”
The dark web? Fuck. “Do you think?—”
I stop talking mid-sentence as another person enters the solarium.
“Diem,” Oliver says unnecessarily. We all know what she looks like.
“Rosalyn.” It’s clipped. Not pleasant, but accusatory. “I was surprised to hear about this show.”
Rose turns to face Diem, her jaw going tight. But she still forces a smile as she says, “Diem. Why would you say that?”
“Because—” Diem crosses the room, stopping only feet from Rose. “I heard your hand was broken. That you weren’t painting. That you pulled your application for the fellowship.”
“Just exaggerations,” Rose replies calmly. “It was a minor injury that was blown out of proportion by some bored reporters and gossips. I have a studio here in town and I’m more productive than ever.”
Diem plants her hands on her hips. “And the show? At the Williston Gallery? I heard you couldn’t complete enough paintings and that’s why it had to be canceled. Are you saying that’s not true?”
“It’s not true.” At Diem’s disbelieving huff, Rose continues, “My studio was broken into, which was terrifying. I needed to take a few weeks to regroup. Refocus. I wasn’t sure if I wanted the pressure of a big gallery show coming up, so I told Avery she could reschedule it. But I assure you, I’m completely fine.”
I’m impressed by how convincing Rose is. In all the times we went over her story in the week since she came up with this plan, she was nervous she couldn’t pull it off. That she’d trip up or blush or do something to signal she’s lying.
But Rose is doing great, and Diem looks like she’s buying it.
“So what now?” Diem’s features pinch in irritation. “Are you going to try to take the show from me? The fellowship? Everything? Just like you always do?”
“What do you mean? Take everything?” Rose’s gaze flickers to the small camera she knows is hidden in a picture frame across the room. Then she quickly refocuses on the woman in front of her. “What have I taken?”
“What haven’t you taken?” Diem spits. “The award senior year at RISD? The scholarship to the MFA program? That first show in Manhattan? The Future Generation Art Prize? The Williston Gallery? And don’t think I don’t know you were a shoo-in for the fellowship. You were.”
“Diem—”
“And that’s not all!” Ramping up, voice rising, Diem takes another step forward as she continues. “You had James Ellicott. Did you even know how rich he is? He would have paid for everything. And Brand Collington. He would have given you millions! While I have to beg for a fraction of that.”
This isn’t a rational person. I’m certain of it.
My heart is racing as I hiss at Cole, “She’s going to hurt Rose.”
“Just wait.” He’s enviably calm. “We need some kind of proof.”
Back in the solarium, Rose is doing her best to draw out a confession. “I didn’t take those things from you. Everything I achieved, I worked for it. I earned it.”
“Bullshit!” Black hair whipping, Diem shakes her head furiously. “It’s all because you’re perfect Rosalyn. So sweet. So shy. So unassuming. You don’t deserve any of it. I do! ”
Rose stares at her for a moment. Then she asks very deliberately, “And would you do anything to get what you think you deserve? Like taking out a competitor?”
A harsh laugh escapes. “When I heard your hand was broken, I was thrilled. Ecstatic. Finally. I get my chance. But now”—her lip pulls back in a sneer—“you’re going to try to steal everything. Except I won’t let you .”
“Cole,” I bite out. “I’m going in. Now .”
“Wait.” Cole glances at Finn, “Stay on the feed. We’ll be at the door. Tell us when to go.”
Finn jerks his chin. “Will do.”
In moments, there are six of us at the door, poised to move in. From the laptop, I can hear Rose’s voice faintly as she says, “What are you going to do? How will you stop me? Didn’t you try this already?”
“Well, it didn’t fucking work,” snaps Diem. “But this time it will. You’re not ruining things again!”
Then there’s a scared yelp, a loud, “Stop!” and Cole orders, “Move in. Move in. Move in.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Please don’t let Rose be hurt. Please.
It’s a litany repeating in the moments it takes to burst into the room.
And then.
Rage.
I’ve never wanted to hurt a woman until now.
But this.
Diem, her features twisted in fury, grabbing at Rose. Clawing at her. Kicking. Spewing curses. Threats. Hissing, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”
And Rose, white-faced, hiding her injured hand behind her, left hand clenched in a fist. Scared. Determined. Angry. But still calm, even in the face of this storm.
Zane launches himself at Diem at the same time as I rush to Rose.
He drags her away, screeching and flailing.
I gather Rose in my arms, hugging her to me. Her heart is pounding hard enough for me to feel it. She clutches the back of my shirt with her good hand and leans into me, giving me all of her weight.
“God, Rose,” I murmur into her hair. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Her breath is hot and fast against my chest, and her entire body is shaking. “I—” she starts. “I’m?—”
Fuck. What if she’s hurt? Her hand. What if Diem had a weapon? Is there blood ?
Heart galloping in panic, I lift Rose into my arms and carry her across the room. As soon as I get to the couch, I set her down and frame her face with my hands. “Are you hurt? Where? I’m so sorry. I wasn’t there…”
Words are tumbling out nonsensically, and I can’t seem to stop them.
She takes a shuddering breath and says, “I’m okay. She didn’t hurt me.”
“What?” How can that be so? Diem was like a dervish, and she attacked first, and she?—
Rose’s hand comes up to cover mine. Her lips curve the tiniest bit. “As soon as she lunged at me, I used the hammer strike. I couldn’t bring myself to do the eye strike. Not even to her.”
What?
Then I glance across the room to where Zane and Cole have Diem restrained and notice her nose is bleeding. Presumably from the hammer strike.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Rose asks. “I mean… if I broke her nose… she had it coming…”
“Ah, hun.” I cradle her left hand between mine, stroking my thumb across her reddening knuckles. I’ve never been prouder or more relieved. “You were incredible. Beyond incredible. And I’m so damn glad you’re okay.”
And I know beyond a certainty of a doubt, I will never agree to a plan like this again.
Not with my Rose. No matter how strong she is. Now that she’s mine, I’m not taking any chances of someone hurting her.
“Please don’t ask me to go through that again.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo and feeling the silkiness of her hair against my lips. “Please.”
She tilts her head back to look at me. “I won’t, Ian. But I knew I was okay. I knew you were right there. I knew you’d keep me safe.”
How does she do it? How can she climb into my heart and embed herself so deeply?
How did I not know love could feel like this?
“God, Rose.” I pull her into my arms again. “I love you so much.”