Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Briar
T he cab ride back to Jameson’s penthouse is a blur. The trip up the elevator passes with me trying to remember where my suitcases are and wondering if it’s even worth grabbing the few belongings I’ve accumulated.
I’ve built up a small wardrobe since working at Shadow Security. Outside of my clothes and shoes, I don’t have anything that I couldn’t bring myself to leave behind. I’d ditch those as well if money wasn’t an issue. It kills me knowing I’ll never have access to my baby pictures or any mementos from my mom.
It’s better to be alive to be sad about it than to be stupid and get caught trying to retrieve those things. It sucks, but it’s true. I can live without them, even if it hurts.
The elevator doors open, and I step out, taking the right toward Jameson’s penthouse. This place has never felt like home, and I wonder if it’s because I never let it.
Did I subconsciously keep myself from settling in because I always knew something like this could happen? It’s possible, but it ultimately doesn’t matter.
This life has come to an end.
I’m going to have to spend most of the money I’ve saved to secure a new identity. That’s why leaving without my clothes would be a stupid move. Or maybe I’m hoping Jameson will see me and beg me to stay. He’ll notice something is wrong or see me planning to flee, and he’ll plead with me to level with him. He might even say something cliché like, all you have to do is trust me.
And I might.
It’s scary being completely alone in the world.
My hand shakes as I pull my key from my coat pocket and work on getting into the top lock. It might be a blessing if Jameson isn’t here. That way, I can get in and out without any distractions.
My chest gets tight.
It’s not just me who doesn’t know where Jameson is. Easton was pissed about not being able to get in touch with him all day.
It’s fine.
I’ve sensed something was wrong for a few weeks now. It’s my own damn fault for letting those dimples and sparkling eyes convince me that we could have something special.
We moved way too fast.
He’s obviously spiraling because he wasn’t prepared for the level of commitment that comes with a live-in girlfriend. I bet it’ll be a huge relief for him to get home and realize I’m gone.
There’s no way I can fit everything into the two suitcases that I find in the guest bedroom closet. I grab the duffel bag at the bottom and load it up, too, even though it’s not mine.
Jameson bought me several pairs of beautiful red-bottom heels that it’s physically painful to leave behind, but one hasn’t even been worn. Maybe he can return them and buy himself a new duffel bag.
I carry the suitcases out to the entryway and go back for the duffel. It’s heavy from being loaded down with shoes, jeans, and two spare jackets. I ended up leaving behind a lot of the lightweight items, like T-shirts and dresses, because it’s winter. I focused on the things I’ll actually be able to wear in frigid temperatures.
My eyes ache as I reposition the duffel higher on my shoulder. Tugging out my phone, I pull up a rideshare app and order a car.
The bus station isn’t too far away, and the first step is getting out of town.
Once I have some distance, I’ll hunker down in a hotel for a night or two while I work on making a long-term plan.
I shove my phone into my pocket and open the door. It’s going to take two trips to get all my stuff out into the hall. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to manage getting it all onto the elevator.
I drop the duffel on the floor and keep the door open with my foot to get the suitcases. Jameson’s key is still on my key ring, and I debate if I should leave a note with it once I get the bags moved.
The door across the hall pops open, and I grimace while avoiding looking over.
Steffanie has been nothing short of friendly to me, and it makes me feel rotten because I have no excuse to hate her. Okay, hate is an extreme word that I should probably reserve for men like my dead fiancé, my father, and my brother.
I don’t like her.
At all.
Something about her feels off.
More like you don’t like the way Jameson looks at her.
Well, that’s true, and the worst part is, it’s not her fault.
That’s on him, and I know that.
It still doesn’t make the hollow pit in my gut lessen.
I’m sure she’ll be around to comfort him when I go missing.
“Are you sure you have to go?” Steffanie’s voice fills the air, making me jolt. “It’s still early.”
“Yeah, I’ve got like fifteen missed calls from my boss.” Jameson was inside her apartment.
Okay, realistically speaking…he was inside her.
That’s where he’s been when he was MIA all day. It’s hard to be indignant when I’m in the process of leaving without a word, but my stomach burns with the urge to make a scene.
Damn omega genetics.
My eyes ache like I might shed actual tears. It’s just another example of a man discarding me like I never meant anything. He could have broken up with me, then fucked her.
I snatch up my suitcase—suddenly manifesting superhuman strength—and throw it next to the duffel bag with no trouble. Pure, unadulterated fury will give a person an extra power boost, apparently.
I tell myself not to look, but Steffanie is in a long T-shirt and nothing else.
Damn.
She’s got really nice legs. They’re long and toned.
Jameson is in his suit pants with his button-down on but untucked, and his head whips in my direction at the sound of the suitcase hitting the floor. “What the hell, Briar?”
I scoff.
Or snort.
It’s some undignified combination of the two, and I ignore it as I snag the remaining bag, tossing it next to the others.
“I’m pretty sure I should be asking you that,” I snap, swiping my hair back from my face. “But I actually don’t care. Best of luck to the both of you. By the way, Easton said if you don’t get your shit together, you’re fired.”
I finally let go of the door, and it closes as I dig in my pocket for his key.
Steffanie grimaces, closing her door as soon as he’s fully outside of it.
“Her hot water heater has been leaking all day. I was helping her clean up the mess,” Jameson says, crossing the hall.
I grab the keyring from my pocket and chuck it at him. “Oh, I’m sure something was leaking all right, but we both know this building has twenty-four-hour on-site maintenance.”
“What the hell is this? I don’t answer a few of your calls, so you throw a fit and move out?” He growls, stepping closer.
I slide backward, and my head bumps the wall.
“Just go back inside her apartment. I’ll be gone by the time you come back out,” I hiss, tilting my chin into the air. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
I hate that he’s so much bigger than I am and that I just retreated from him.
If anyone should have to back up, it should be him.
I haven’t done anything wrong.
Well, aside from stealing his duffel bag and leaving with no warning, but by my estimation, that’s the least he deserves. Wherever I end up, I’m going to take self-defense lessons.
I’m never going to be this vulnerable again. When Briar ceases to exist, so does this version of me. Gone will be the woman that men wanted weak, so I couldn’t fight back or defend myself.
Jameson’s face betrays his anger.
If I wasn’t backed up against a literal wall, I’d take another step away.
“I told you what happened. If you don’t believe me, that’s on you, but don’t call me a cheater.” He grabs my arm, tugging me toward the door to his penthouse. “You’re not fucking leaving.”
“I am!” I pivot, slamming my knee into his balls. He lets out an oomph , which is satisfying, but he slams my shoulder into the wall and twists my wrist in one painful movement.
A yelp escapes as I try to correct my balance enough that I won’t fall over when I slam my palm up and into his jaw. It’s one move I saw on a video about easy ways for women to escape. I hope that instructor knew what he was talking about.
“Unless you’d like me to break your neck right here in the hallway, I suggest you release Briar right the fuck now .” Easton’s voice sounds extra deadly. The man always sounds dangerous, but a low growl rattles around the hallway as he approaches, and it makes me shiver.
Thank God.
I’m not too proud to admit that I could really use some backup. Jameson is acting a little too unhinged for me to trust that he’ll calm down and let me go.
“Stay the fuck out of this, East,” Jameson snarls back.
“I warned you.” Easton’s hand lands on the top of Jameson’s forearm, while the other pries Jameson’s hold free of my arm.
I’ve been mostly turned, since I was preparing to get away, and I stumble into my suitcases and fall into the wall once more.
My head bounces against the Sheetrock, and I work on getting myself vertical again instead of leaning.
A vicious snapping fills the air.
Fuck.
I wish I didn’t recognize that sound.
My childhood really fucked me up. I don’t have to see it to know what happened.
Someone just broke someone’s bone .
I spin around at the hysterical wail that comes out of Jameson.
He supports his visibly broken arm against his chest, using his free hand to brace his wrist. “You fucking psychopath!”
“I did promise to break your neck.” Easton’s head tilts. He looks so calm while Jameson’s chest is heaving, and his face is bright red as he quickly steps back at Easton’s threat. “Perhaps I should follow through.”
“I should call the cops,” Jameson snarls. “You’re not God. You can’t go around doing whatever the fuck you want.”
Oh, shit.
The police are going to show up and ask me for a statement.
As shitty as it sounds, I can’t be here when that happens. It’s just asking to be outed. They’ll look into me, and I have doubts my identity would hold up to that type of scrutiny.
“Are you truly that brave, Jameson?” Easton chuckles, and it’s a scary sound. “Everything in me says you’re not.”
I snag the duffel and take off toward the elevator. The suitcases are too heavy to make a quick escape with them in tow, so I’ll have to make do without them.
“Wherever you disappeared to today, make sure you show up there tomorrow,” Easton growls. “You’re fired. Consider yourself lucky that I can’t be bothered with the hassle of disposing of your lifeless corpse.”
The bag bounces against my thigh as I jab the button to call the elevator.
The doors immediately pop open, and I chuck myself inside, slamming the close door button.
Holy shit.