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“Darling?” I look over at Julian. “I was wondering which station handled my disappearance, I was gonna send them a big box of doughnuts from Delilah's Bakery as a sorry. Police like donuts, right?” I fake a laugh for them both.
“I told you not to worry about that, sweetheart. I sorted it. They said these things happen all the time.” Both his hands reach for my hips and I let him pull me against him. “You have enough going on in that head of yours.”
“Okay,” I agree, watching the lies spew off his tongue. “You’re right. I’m gonna go get stuck into a book.” I smile at them both before I leave the room, but instead of heading into the library, I hang around and listen.
“He’s getting impatient, Julian,” I hear George whisper-yell at his son. “We don’t want to be on the wrong side of him, I don’t need to tell you what that could mean.”
“I’m close, Dad, I know I am, I just need more time.” I tiptoe away into the library, locking the door behind me. No wonder they were so keen on making me sell up, my parents are barely in the ground and they already have a buyer lined up. And now I’ve never felt so alone.
I sit in the chair where Mom used to do her work, wishing she was here with me now more than ever. She’d know what to do.
I think about running to Brax, but what use would that be? He made it clear that we couldn’t be together, and I understand why. As much as it hurts me, I get it.
A light knock on the door jolts me awake. I must have dozed off, and when the door handle rattles, I quickly get up to unlock it.
“Everything okay?” Julian asks, stepping inside.
“I must have fallen asleep.” I stretch my limbs and yawn.
“Sorry about Dad, he promised your father he’d take care of you if anything ever happened to him, he takes his responsibilities seriously. This place is too big for you, there’s a lot of capital in it too.”
“Just stop,” I interrupt him. “Please, can we just have a night without talking about house sales and clearing out rooms.”
“Sure.” He pushes me back until my back hits the bookshelf and forces his lips onto mine. It’s claustrophobic and desperate, and I want to spit the taste of him out my mouth. His hand moves to grope me through my top. Squeezing hard at my breasts, while his groin presses into mine.
“Julian,” I push my hands against his shoulder, attempting to get him off, but he kisses me harder, his tongue invading my mouth and almost making me gag.
“For god's sake, give me something, Grace. You’ve treated me like shit since you got home,” he whispers as his kisses move down my neck, and my stomach churns in revolt. I want to burst into tears.
“I can’t!” I shout, pushing him away, this time hard enough to put space between us. “I’ve been with someone else,” I blurt the words out, so desperate to have him away from me that I don’t care about the consequences.
Truth is, with or without Brax, I know it’s never gonna work with Julian. I can’t even stand him trying to hold my hand for Christ’s sake. When I open my eyes, he’s looking back at me with anger. And then it comes out of nowhere, the quick but painful swipe that the back of his hand serves against my cheek. He leaves, slamming the door behind him. And I hear the sound of car wheels screech off the drive, confirming that I’m alone. My cheek may sting like hell, but I feel a sense of relief in his absence. I don’t love Julian, the past month has proven that. And I make the decision to get as far away from here as I can.
Another day, another fuck up. This time, it’s Jessie I piss off. We’ve been sent to one of the bars where Prez suspects the manager is holding out on us. Thorne has found more than a few discrepancies in the accounts over the past few months, and we’re done giving him the benefit of the doubt. What was meant to be a warning, turned in to an opportunity for me to relieve some tension. Jessie warned me not to pick a fight there. The place is out of town and renowned for attracting the wrong crowd.
The whole thing quickly turned into a massive bar brawl, with two of us against eight of them, and although we’d come out a lot better than the other fuckers, we’re both a little worse for wear.
When we get back to the club, Jessie parks his bike and scowls at me before walking inside. As soon as Crystal sees the state we’re in, she quickly pours out two tequilas. Without taking his eyes off me, Jessie downs his in one swallow.
“What’s the matter with you?” Troj asks, as he moves one of the bitches off his lap and heads toward us.
“Ask that asshole,” Jessie nods his head in my direction, slamming his glass down ready for another shot.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Prez’s voice booms as he pushes the doors open and storms inside.
“I just spoke to Roswell, he reckons you boys caused quite the scene down at Fountain.”
“My bad.” I shrug, lifting up my glass for a third hit, and once it’s poured I tip it down my throat. Inside, I’m numb. The rips in my knuckles and the blood pouring from the cut above my eye aren’t causing me any pain. I’d have taken every fucker in that bar on alone if I had to, and it still wouldn’t have been enough.
Jessie suddenly has enough and launches for me, and Troj just about manages to stop him from getting to me with his long arm.
“You may not give a fuck what happens to you, asshole, but some of us got shit worth living for. You were reckless today,” he tells me through his teeth, shrugging Troj off and storming out the room.
“Get out of here, and get yourself cleaned up,” Prez tells me, shaking his head in disappointment. Moving past him, I return his harsh side glance right back at him. After riding up to my cabin, I find a bottle of jack and set to work on it. It doesn’t take long for the door to burst open, and I’m a little surprised when the feisty looking brunette who's married to my brother bursts through it. She slams the green med box she’s carrying on to the table and sits opposite me, opening it up and taking out some cotton wool and alcohol. I hiss when she dabs it harshly into the open cuts on my knuckles.
“Serves you right,” she snaps at me as she continues to sting me. We sit in silence as she cleans up my hands, then she takes out some steri-strips and more cotton, and begins cleaning the cut above my eye.
“Doc not around?” I ask her.
