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“You did very bad things, Bryan,” my voice trembles. “And now you’re going to get in trouble, and I can’t–”
“One moment,” Philip interrupts.
I didn't realize he was here as well. Now that I look around the room, Ian and Zayn are also here.
Philip puts his arm around Bryan’s shoulders. “We had a talk. It seems Bryan failed his initiation.”
I fold my arms. “What does that mean?”
My baby brother shifts nervously. “It means that I never killed anybody.”
Philip gives me a small smile. “He can either serve time, or he can do community service by taking over the center that Seth was using for his purpose and fix it. Seth is surprisingly willing to give in the names of every member of his gang to get a lenient sentence. But there are still kids in the center who need guidance. And I feel Bryan, under some mentorship, can probably do a good job.”
I look at Bryan who nods. “I want to be a good person, Sarah. I’ll still continue with medical school.”
Fergus puts his arm around me, making my brother bristle.
“Problem, kid?”
Bryan’s jaw is taut. “That’s my sister.”
I glare at him. “Oh, you’re hardly in a place to be making–”
Fergus shakes his head at me and then studies the man in front of him. “I intend to marry her once I’ve got a chance to properly court her like she deserves.”
Bryan opens his mouth and then shuts it, before nodding. “Okay. I just… I want her to be happy. She deserves the very best. She’s been like a mother to me.”
My eyes water. “Stop it; you’re making me cry.”
“You can stay at my apartment,” I tell him, sniffling. “And you should tell Ruby to come back. She misses you.”
Then, I lean up and kiss Fergus, whispering, “You had better marry me. I don’t think I could eat another man’s cooking after this.”
He laughs, and the warmth blossoming inside my chest tells me that we will be fine. I have never been this happy in my whole life, the contentment a soothing balm inside my soul.
OFF-LIMITS BEST FRIEND
BOOK 3
1
Ian
“Mr. Sawyer, I’m leaving. Is there anything you need?”
I look up from where I am leaning against the luxurious mahogany desk that the previous CEO of Bearing Consulting purchased with the company’s funds. I am flipping through a contract that has more holes in it than swiss cheese, and my mood is considerably sour.
The thin, nervous-looking man at the door seems ready to piss himself when I glance up, his wiry glasses nearly falling off his nose when I straighten.
What is his name, again?
I have been at the company for two weeks trying to sort through the mess the last CEO left. So far, I’ve firmly decided that if I ever get a chance to meet Jack Lawson, I am going to wring his fat neck for bringing this company to the edge of bankruptcy.
“I need some documents from the finance department. They have them prepared. Get them for me before you go, Harding.”
The man swallows. “I-it’s Hastings, sir.” Then he waves his hands, wildly, “Not that it matters. You can call me Harding. Harding’s fine.”
“Why would I call you Harding if that’s not your name? Sorry for the mix-up.” I tell him.
