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.
TWENTY-NINE
BROOKS
I’m acutelyaware of time inching by as I sit through my normal slew of Monday meetings.
They all feel unnecessary, but my assistant is really good at making sure I’m only at the ones I need to be at.
