Usually I’d be all for having someone else park my car.But I need to deal with the angry woman in my passenger seat first.And come up with a story for why I have broken windows, spent bullet casings, and guns lying around a car that needs to go back to the rental agency.
“I don’t need your help, Lucien,” Brooks says suddenly, breaking her silence.
I turn to her, wondering if she’s finishing a conversation she’s been having in her brain.Because I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about.Still...
“The past twenty minutes seem to prove otherwise,” I snap.
She sneers at that.“And I could have taken care of them on my own if you’d given me the chance.”
I reach out, grab her wrist, and yank her toward me.“You would have been killed if you were on your own.Or worse, kidnapped.Don’t be stupid, Brooks.”
She looks up at me, her eyes dark in the fluorescent lighting coming from the shelter above us, and swallows heavily.“And why would you care about that?It’s been a long time since I was any of your business.”
I almost laugh, because it’s such a ridiculous thing to say.I don’t, though, because I’m too busy trying to breathe around her scent.Trying to remember that I’m angry with her, and use that against the way my body wants to pull her into my lap and remind her of what we once had.“Except a week ago, you showed up in New Orleans asking for my help again.And that makes this situation my business.You might not be, but the war is,” I say quietly.
She douses the tension as quickly as it began.“So you admit that I’m not your problem.”
Right.Same old Brooks.I can need the girl like the air I’m breathing, but she’ll never admit to needing me back.
And I’d be a fool to expect anything else.
I shake off the feelings that had been growing in my chest and reach into the pocket on the door, then toss the file I find there onto her lap.“The file of everything we found on the girls who are missing from New Orleans.Your friend’s in there, too.Aislyn.Something is going on, and it started in New Orleans.You want to find her?Come home.Let me keep you safe while we figure this out.They’re already on to you, and they’re going to find you eventually.If they do, you’re not going to be able to save anyone.”
I close my mouth and let a beat pass, watching as she processes everything I’ve just told her.
“Let me help you, Brooks.Just this once.”
She catches her lower lip in her teeth, and it’s just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.Not that I’m looking.
“I don’t need your help.”
I shrug.“So you’ve said.”
“Are you going to get in my way?”
I smirk.“Define getting in the way.”
She narrows her eyes, shooting sparks at me with those blue orbs, but snatches up the file I gave her.“This doesn’t make us anything.And it doesn’t mean I’m coming home for you.”
And now I’m angry enough to be finished with the banter.“What makes you think I want to be anything with you?”
When she answers, I hear that she’s angry, too–though I don’t know why.“Because I know you.And I know how you think.”
She jerks on the handle of the door, having to try twice to get it open, and flies out of the car without a backward glance.I watch her go, eyes narrowed and mind tearing through all the possible implications of this situation.I came up here with the intention of bringing her home, not only for myself but to fulfill the contract that’s been forced on me.I want her home with me, and thanks to that contract, I have to have her there.Regardless of how she feels about it.
But I don’t want to do it this way.Taking her home angry...was never part of the plan.
Then again, I suppose I was stupid to expect anything with Brooks to go to plan.It almost never does.
And I’m just now realizing that I don’t know her well enough anymore to be able to make plans that include her, anyhow.Not really.
Sort of like how she doesn’t know me–or my motivations–nearly as well as she thinks she does.
Brooks
The world outside is dark.Fathomless.Full of secrets.I don’t know who’s out there or what they want, and I’m not even sure what any of it has to do with me.
And I hate it.I’ve spent most of my adult life knowing exactly what I’m doing and who I’m dealing with, and on the rare times when I don’t know, I always have one thing: I’m Brooks fucking Peterson, and I’ll figure it out.I always have plan.
