Chapter 14 Brooks #2
The food is amazing, and so is the company.
Sawyer is telling us about the non-profit she’s starting with her mom.
Evie told us about how things are going in her new private practice.
Everything feels…normal. Like we are just family catching up on each other’s lives.
But there is something off about Wren, and it’s nagging at me.
She holds my hand, but she hasn’t said a whole lot.
Something’s bothering her, and I don’t know what it is.
We’re finishing up, and the servers I hired are collecting our plates and napkins.
“Thanks for this, Brooks,” Julian says as he pats his stomach.
“Yeah, this was a great call,” Keaton adds. I smile and nod. Even the little things, the little bit of approval from them, feels really fucking good.
“All things good on the Everett Enterprises front, Wren?” Julian asks, and it’s the first time anyone has mentioned it all night. I swallow as she pauses for a moment. She looks up at them, then at me, and forces a smile.
“Uh…yeah,” she says, and her hesitation makes me even more wary.
“What’s up?” I ask her. And when she looks at me, I know she can tell that I already know that something is.
She clears her throat, and the room is silent. She makes sure that the servers have left the room before she speaks.
“Uh, today at the end of the day, Cato let me know that we have an off-site work meeting that he wants me to attend with him. He said it’s at the Landry Hotel downtown.”
Everyone is silent around the table.
I have a death grip on her hand, and my breathing starts to feel erratic.
I’m staring at her, but I’m just seeing red.
“Did he say what it is for?” Julian asks.
“He said it’s a meeting to discuss a potential investment opportunity, but he didn’t say with who,” she says, her voice lower than normal. Julian nods.
“Are you okay?” Evie asks her, and I love that her initial reaction is to check in on Wren. Wren nods slowly.
“I think so,” she says with a nervous laugh. “Just wish I knew what was coming.”
There’s another pause, and Julian pats the table.
“Well, let’s try not to worry about it tonight. I’ll reach out to Ally again and see if she can give us a little information about what happened the first time he took her to the hotel. She was one of the survivors we interviewed. Let’s plan on talking tomorrow and getting a plan together.”
“We got this, Wren,” Keaton adds. “You’re not alone.”
She nods and smiles at everyone, but right now, all I want is for them to all disappear so she can fall apart the way I know she needs to.
And luckily, they all get the hint. They all stand to leave, we give our hugs goodbye, and then it’s just me and her in my penthouse foyer.
She turns to me slowly, and I see the tears forming in her eyes.
Her head falls to my chest, and I wrap her up in my arms, just letting her get it all out.
“Baby,” I whisper, “it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just grips onto me tight, holding me to her.
After a few moments of her crying, I swoop her up into my arms. I carry her up the stairs to my suite and into the bathroom.
I set her down on the floor and turn on the bathtub, making sure the water is good and hot.
I add in some bubbles and some salts, and then I turn to her.
I take her clothes off slowly, and while her naked body will never not do things to me, I stay focused.
I help her into the tub, and I prop up my bath pillow behind her head.
And then I sit down on the floor next to her, and I stroke her hair.
She sits in the hot water for a little bit, her breathing slowed, and I watch some of her stress melt away.
I stare at her, her long eyelashes fanned out over her skin, her perfectly pink lips pursed, that little line between her eyebrows that shows up when she’s worried.
I love it because it’s her, but I hate it for what it means.
I lean forward and press a kiss to it, and it instantly softens.
“Baby,” I whisper.
“Hmm?” she says.
“I don’t want you to go,” I say. Her eyes pop open, and she turns to me.
“What?”
“I don’t want you to do this. It’s killing me. I feel like we are throwing you to the wolves, and I…I don’t want you to go.”
She turns her body to me, putting a wet, soapy hand to my face.
“Brooks,” she says, “I appreciate how much you care. I love knowing that I have you in my corner. But I’m not doing this for me, or for you, or for your brothers.
I’m doing this for the women who didn’t know what danger they were getting into.
I’m doing this for every other woman in the future that might have applied for this job otherwise.
I’m doing this as a big fuck-you to any man in a position of power who thinks he doesn’t have any rules to follow and that people’s lives are dispensable. Brooks, I am the wolf here.”
I smile, looking back at her. I nod.
She’s right.
She is the goddamn wolf. She stands up slowly, the beads of soap and water trailing down her body as if they’re taunting me.
“Now,” she says, “take me to your bed.”