Page 89 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

Turning, I let my words trail off as I hurry up the stairs and to my bedroom, biting the inside of my mouthhardto keep the tears from falling. On my phone, I tap through the steps to order an Uber to the gate.

There are three pairs of footfalls right behind me, and I swallow through the pain of the chase, of never hearing it again. The hall echoes with the sounds of their pursuit.

“Serena.” Ryan is the first one through the door, and his voice breaks when he sees me filling a bag with my things. “What are you?—”

“Don’t do this.” Travis is behind him, commanding me in that voice I love. “Do not leave, Serena. We can work this out.”

And, finally, Graham appears behind the other two, looking at me with eyes like I’m the waterfall, and he’s the explorer, and he’s finally arrived just to find the natural beauty strewn with garbage. Inaccessible. Damaged.

“I’m sorry,” I choke, and though they’re crowding the doorway, they part reluctantly to let me through. I run back down the stairs with my bag and they follow, words flying off their tongues, asking me to just stay the night, that this is not a good idea.

But I don’t hear any of it. I run back down the stairs, thinking I might slip in my socks and fall all the way down. But I don’t.

I make it in one piece, put on my sneakers, and swallow again and again through the tears as I turn toward the door.

They’re here, behind me, still talking all at once.

“Please, Serena,” Graham says, his deep voice rumbling, low, pleading in a way I’ve never heard from him before.

I pause for just a second, breathing hard. Then, I throw open the door and cross the porch, take the stairs down, keep moving forward until I’m at the gate, walking through, sliding into the back of the Uber.

Finally, once I know they can’t see me, I let myself fall apart.

Chapter 49

Serena

For the next week, my friends try desperately to bring me back from the dead.

Grayson asks if I want to go apple-picking with them. Georgia insists I at least get up and go for a walk, or I might get blood clots. Lillie begs me to come down and eat dinner with them—she made something special for me, and I need to come down to see.

Sid just slides a chocolate bar under the door for me, which makes me laugh, then cry so hard I hiccup for the next few hours.

I hold my bladder until they’re all gone. I take quick, furtive showers with the lights off. In my room, I flip through news channels and celebrity gossip rags, looking for news of the guys.

Mostly, I just wallow.

The two voices in my head are constantly at war. One insisting I did the right thing—that we avoided pain the only way possible. That we cut off the danger at the source.

But the other voice is crushed. Begs me to go back to them, to agree to the plan. She tries to convince me that I’m enough, that they want me. That they might even reallyloveme.

The days tick away. Saturday morning, I wake up with a hollow pit where my large intestine should be.

And I wake up to the sound of four angry fists against my door, sounding like they might actually batter the thing to the ground. Then, after some rustling, there’s aclick. The door swings open, and everyone except Sid tumbles inside, falling to a heap on the floor.

Grayson helps Georgia up, then Lillie, and they all turn to look at me. My roommates.

My friends.

Grayson in his too-big basketball jersey and jeans, looking like a nineties heartthrob. Georgia is wearing a sleek black workout set and her signature ponytail. Lillie with her lilac hair twisted into a bun, and Sid bringing up the rear with two long arms thrown over all of them, his piercings glinting in the light as he gives me a crooked smile.

“Hey, if you see my parole officer, I didnotjust pick that door.”

I blink at him, trying to get my voice to sound normal, “Is that a clue, Sid?”

He shakes his head, and the girls surge forward, speaking at once. “Serena,Jesus,your hair—” and “We’ve beensoworried about you?—”

“Come on!” Grayson says, stalking to the other side of the room and wrenching open the window, so a rush of early autumn air floods inside. “You are leaving this room if we have to drag you out!”