Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
brIAR
I exhale and stare up at the ceiling.
I know what I said wasn’t fair.
He’d explained.
I understood—understand.
And I still brought it up in the way most designed to hurt him, to put distance between us.
Because he’s right.
I love him.
I just…can’t ignore the knot in my stomach, the knowledge that this isn’t going to work out like he’s planned.
It can’t be that simple.
It can’t.
But I also can’t tell him no, not when he’s so damned earnest, not when he’s baring his heart. Not when he’s making so much sense. And he’s Brooks. The man who I trusted, befriended, loved…
Five years ago.
And—
“Dammit,” I whisper, rolling over to my other side. He’s right. I never stopped.
So I did the only thing I could.
Put a wall between us, widened that gulf.
Protected myself.
And now it’s the middle of the night and I’m staring up at the ceiling and I’m trying to ignore the need nipping at my heels, telling me to get out of bed, to believe in him, in us.
To live for today because tomorrow may not be guaranteed.
So why don’t I?
“Because I’m scared,” I say, flopping to my back.
My life is a series of long, interminable straight roads followed by sharp, blind turns.
You’d think I’d be used to it—those sudden changes.
But I’m not.
I roll to my other side, sigh.
I’m scared.
Ugh.
I survived the last years—hell, I survived the childhood I had and now I’m scared of getting my heart broken again?
No. Well, yes. But also…I’m scared of Brooks getting hurt.
And Chrissy. And Pascal. And Jace. And the others.
I flop onto my back and groan.
Then I scrub my hands over my face and I know it’s pointless to continue thinking in these endless circles. I need to do something—and that something isn’t continuing to spin myself into a tizzy.
“Right,” I whisper, sitting up and tossing the blankets to the side. “I need a plan.”
So, I’ll get the flash drive. Give it to Brooks and explain what I was doing the night of the fundraiser. He’ll pass it on to the others.
They’ll probably be pissed and keep their distance.
But that’s for the best.
It’ll keep them far away from the shit show that’s me.
Of course, they probably won’t trust me with the kittens any longer, but that’s for the best too.
No reason to put innocent creatures at risk.
I get out of bed, snag my pants from the floor, then creep toward the door, quietly turning the handle and stepping out into the hall. Dawn’s just creeping over the horizon in the distance, casting the living room in a faint glow of light. But it’s enough for me to make my way into the kitchen.
I snag a knife from the block and—
“What are you doing?”
Gasping, I whip around to see Pascal leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
I clutch my pants and the knife to my chest, shame rippling through me.
I could pretend I was trying to leave. It might be easier than watching his face change.
But…that’s not me.
Or not the me I want to be.
I use the knife to slice at the hem of my pants and pull out the drive.
Then I take a breath and hold it out. “I was supposed to sneak in and put this in Chrissy’s laptop the night of the fundraiser.
I don’t know exactly how it works, but I know enough.
It contains software to install incriminating files on her computer.
” I find that he’s suddenly right in front of me, his hand extended.
I drop the flash drive into his hand and put the knife back.
“I should have led with this. I was…well it doesn’t matter what I was.
Maybe there’s some way to track it, to use it against them—”
He settles his hand on my shoulder, his eyes delving into mine. “Such shadows in you.” A squeeze. “And such strength.”
My lungs catch.
“But so little forgiveness.” He turns away, stashing the drive in his pocket.
Heart squeezing. “I’ve forgiven Brooks,” I say. “I understand why he did what he did.”
“Not Brooks.” His eyes come back to mine.
“I—”
But I don’t finish the sentence.
Because he’s still talking.
“For yourself, Briar.”
Then, as I’m trying to absorb the blow of that, he disappears into the shadows.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall.
The sun is up.
The day is beautiful.
Brooks came out of the guest bedroom an hour ago, looking like he slept about as well as I did.
Then he went into the office—needing to take some meetings in person.
He’d cupped my jaw before he left, brushed his lips over my forehead.
But I hadn’t missed the hurt in his eyes.
“Ugh,” I whisper, lifting my head and thunking it against the wall. “Why am I so messed up?”
“You know the cure for that, right?”
Shrieking, I lurch to my feet and stumble back, my gaze searching for a weapon.
The woman who’s come out on the patio is a few years older than me and pleasantly curved, her smile warm. But I’m not fooled. A threat can come from anywhere.
“Easy, sweetheart,” she says.
“How’d you get in here?” I ask, moving toward the wrought iron chair. It’s heavy and unwieldy for weapon purposes. But it’s something.
Her brows pull together. “I used my key.”
So much for Pascal’s security.
I try to tell myself that’s not a surprise—I knew they could get in anywhere at any time.
I just…wanted a little longer.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
I’m not going to do it.
No, I realize, the truth of that thought settling somewhere deep inside me, soothing an old wound…or maybe I’m just finally finding my spine, finding my will to live again. I’m not going to do what they want. Never again.
But it might help Brooks and Pascal if I could find out.
“Do?” The furrow between the woman’s eyebrows deepens. “Umm…relax and”—her gaze drifts down my body and back up—“maybe eat something.” My stomach rumbles, right on cue, and her lips curve. “Come on inside when you’re ready and I’ll make you something to eat.”
She turns away, disappearing through the French doors, leaving me in the morning sunshine, the soft breeze buffeting my skin, the city spread out in front of me.
I hear the faint sounds of cooking through the glass.
Then the scents drift my way, making my stomach rumble again.
I peek inside, watch as the woman pokes through cabinets, pulls out ingredients.
“This is weird,” I whisper.
She looks up as though she hears that and waves at me, gesturing for me to come inside.
And…
Hell, it’s not like I’m going to jump off the balcony.
I might as well figure out what she really wants.
So, I release my death grip on the metal chair, take a deep breath, and go inside.