Page 37 of Rescuing Brinley

Cheesy? Yes. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Brinley was The One.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The remaining time she spent in Fiji waiting for her flight to leave had been hard. Everyone was on edge at the hotel, and those who couldn’t change their flights kept to themselves. Brinley included.

She ordered room service for all her meals, mostly because she didn’t feel safe anywhere else. Which she hated, because the staff at the resort had gone out of their way to be kind and accommodating to the guests after the harrowing terrorist event. There was also notably more security on the premises.

But considering her role in what happened, that she’d helped foil the Red Vipers’ plans to kidnap eight women, Brinley felt extremely vulnerable.

The one time she did venture out of her room, needing a distraction from her thoughts, she ran across Callista, Tamika, and Valerie. And it hadn’t been pleasant.

She’d had to endure ten minutes of them rehashing what happened in the ballroom—focusing on themselves, of course, and not the eight women who’d been singled out to be kidnapped.

It wasn’t that she didn’t think the trio had been through something traumatic—they had, she was sure of it—but they didn’t seem to have even one iota of empathy for what anyone else had gone through right alongside them. Or any gratitude for the men and women who’d helped free them. Or for the people who’d gotten hurt in the ordeal.

No, all they cared about was themselves.

But because Callista was her sister, and she somehow still remembered how sweet she was as a child, before she’d been spoiled beyond redemption, Brinley had stood there and commiserated with the women.

That was, until the complaints started. How they didn’t think the pageant staff had done enough to keep them safe. How the local security forces didn’t act fast enough. How unfair it was that Ayla and her family were given preferential treatment.

Personally, Brinley thought they were being ridiculous. She kept that opinion to herself. She knew better than to antagonize her sister. And the two bitches she’d latched onto weren’t any better.

“Where the hell were you, anyway? I thought you were brought here to cater to your clients’ every whim,” Tamika sneered.

“It’s not as if she would’ve been in any danger if she’d been in the ballroom,” Callista said to her friends, finishing with a mean little laugh. “Hell, her being there might’ve made the men turn around and run because of how hideous she is.”

The other two giggled at that.

Brinley was done. She didn’t have to stand there and listen to her sister make fun of her for the thousandth time. At twenty-six, Callista should’ve outgrown the need to belittle her big sister. Apparently, not even a life-or-death situation could help her change her ways.

The truth was, she pitied Callista. She was mean. She’d learned from their mother to use her looks to get what she wanted and, if that didn’t work, use words to tear others down. Frankly, it was just sad.

Ignoring the continued taunts and laughter from the trio, Brinley had just rolled her eyes and headed back to her room with the to-go box she’d purchased for lunch from the on-site restaurant. She’d been planning on eating outside, but decided she’d rather avoid the risk of running into her mother or Callista, or any of the other contestants her sister had managed to turn against her.

The morning she left the resort was uneventful, and she was relieved to get to the airport and through security with no hassles. The feeling of needing to look over her shoulder all the time was unsettling. And it hit her that when she was with Dash, she hadn’t felt that way even once, despite the danger. He had her back, and even though she wasn’t a super-trained special forces operative, she’d done what she could to have his too.

The flight home was long. Going from Fiji to Los Angeles was over ten hours by itself. Then she had a fairly long layover, and another almost six-hour flight to Fairbanks. She’d splurged and upgraded her ticket to a business-class seat, which made the flights a little better, but by the time she’d landed, she was still grumpy, tired, sore, and more than ready to be at home, where she could decompress.

Cypress wasn’t hard to spot once Brinley left the secure area—Fairbanks International wasn’t that big of an airport, after all—and she couldn’t help but smile at seeing her friend. It hit home that she’d come really darn close to not making it back at all.

She practically ran toward her bestie, hugging her extra tightly as she greeted her.

“I’m so glad to be home!”

Cypress pulled back after a moment and frowned. “Don’t ever do that again! I saw the videos on the news about what happened and it scared the crap out of me!”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“I can’t believe you stole a plane! I didn’t think you had it in you. My bestie, a badass rebel!”

Brinley chuckled tiredly. “Don’t get excited. I think it was temporary insanity or something.”

“It was something for sure,” Cypress said. Then her voice lowered. “I’m guessing it had something to do with the hottie who’s standing behind me, waiting to welcome you back.”

Wondering what the heck her friend was talking about, Brinley looked over her friend’s shoulder…and froze.

Dash was standing there with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face.