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“Exactly. I didn’t anticipate the meeting running late. I’d planned on being there before she arrived.” I sent another text to my mother, but still no response. Nerves crawl under my skin, leaving the two of them unattended, especially after the bullshit my mother tried to pull the other night.
“Why don’t you call her?”
“I did,” I growl and run my hand through my already messy hair.
The overhead speakers crackle before the pilot’s voice comes out crisp. “Prepare for landing.”
“Thank fuck,” I say under my breath and spin my ring again, the surface smooth under my rough touch.
Bash raises a brow at the motion but doesn’t say a word when I meet his eyes. Misty is still so fucking skittish around me, and like fuck am I going to leave her to the wolf that is my mother.
“You know this is all temporary, right? Didn’t you make some kind of idiotic deal that she just has to put up with you for a year?”
I didn’t realize my baby brother had a death wish, but he’s pushing my limits.
“She’ll learn the truth when she’s ready. For now, she needs to believe she can get away.”
“It’s fucked up that you’re planning to basically hold her hostage.”
“I never said it wasn’t.”
He chuckles, his head falling back to its original position. “You know, I’m really looking forward to her kicking your ass. She’s got you by the balls, and somehow, you’re still delusional enough to think you make the decisions.”
He’s wrong, of course. I know exactly how much power she holds over me.
My body jerks when we touch down, and I’m already standing before we come to a stop.
“Find your own way home,” I tell Bash before I step out into the rain and head directly to my black-on-black Ferrari. I’d messaged Nicholas to have it brought over, knowing I was going to break more than a few laws to get to her.
“Hey! Fucker, I don’t have a car.”
I get into the driver’s side and shout back at him just before the door closes. “Not my problem.”
Cherry and blue lights flash behind me, but I don’t slow down. Once the officer pulls my plate, he’ll know to back off. I curb the car in front of the entrance, feet away from Matthias.
He doesn’t comment, just lifts one brow.
“Where is she?” I demand as I swing the door open and head up the stairs.
“Exactly where you left her,” he replies, only a foot or two behind me.
“Did you check on her like I asked?” I glare at the doorman when he takes too long.
“I said I would. She’s been fine.” Matthias is two steps behind me as I rush up the stairs.
“She better be.” The swipe pad beeps as I swipe my card over it, and the door swings inward.
It takes several beats before I can process what’s happening.
There’s a rack full of dresses, all in muted pastels I know Misty would hate. None of the women are visible. Instead, I can just make out their voices in the bathroom.
“Much better.” My mother’s voice grates on me.
“I’ll still need at least another hour to put color back in. This is only the first step,” a woman I don’t recognize says. They must be the stylist.
My strides eat the distance between me and the open bathroom door when I realize exactly what they mean. My mother and an unknown woman stand next to each other in the cramped space.
But it’s Misty that has my attention. She’s sitting on the edge of the tub, her eyes like voids as she stares at the wall, muted pale blond hair brushing her shoulders.
