Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

AELLA

P eeking out of the blinds, I can see a Cobra below slink back into the shadows. I don't know which one, but they've unflaggingly watched after me. Even while I've been distant. The shit my dad dropped on me in his office was just too much. I called HR the very next morning and quit my job. I've shut off both of my phones.

I don't think I've ever understood Braxton more than I do now. I can't even fathom seeing and speaking to anyone right now. Part of it has me feeling so guilty because of what I know and what they don't. I know I should've run to them and spilled the news immediately.

But I was reeling. Confused and a little broken, too, to be honest.

I ultimately saw my dad in a new light, and what I thought I knew about him shifted. I don't see the path forward, and it's scary for me. A little guiltily, more than a few times, I've wondered what the three of us look like with their mom alive. How they'll feel when they know my dad hid her from them. Or will they forget all about my connection to him because of how happy they are to see her again?

Who the hell am I kidding? They're going to be so fucking upset. A tear sneaks out of my eye, and I wipe it away.

A knock at the door sounds, and I stiffen. But my traitorous heart speeds up behind my breast at the idea one of them forces themselves inside my apartment to make me see reason.

Even though I'm not ready to face telling them, part of me wants to be in their arms. Either of them. I know it's childish, hiding from them like this, but I'm too far gone now. I fear what the future looks like once this journey they've been on their entire lives ends.

"Open the fucking door," Dad's voice sounds from behind my door, shattering the illusion and pulling me from inside my head.

"No. You're not welcome here. Go away!" I shout back, more tears threatening to spill over.

"Aella!" he grumbles.

I'm a little surprised he's here. For one, he loves to hide from his fuck-ups. For two, he seemed more concerned about his dirty little secret than how I felt.

"Go away!" I scream, letting emotion take full rooted hold on me, but the tears are filled with anger. Some sadness for the changes ahead, if I'm honest.

Silence permeates the space after my outburst, and I think he's gone. Until a massive crash disrupts the calm. My door bursts open, the frame folding inward on itself, and splinters skitter across the ground .

"What the actual fuck, Dad?" I gasp, wiping my face clean of emotion.

He looks me up and down. I'm sure I'm a fucking sight.

I got into my pajamas two days ago and haven't gotten out of them or even dared to shower. I've been in a perpetual state of nightmare since I walked into my dad's office the other night. Now, he's in my space. While it's not my safe space, it's still mine.

"You wouldn't open the door, and you sounded disturbed."

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. It makes me feel stupid that I'm standing in front of my dad, a man I've thought was the most put-together person in the world, while wearing a pink fuzzy robe with unicorns.

He gives me another once over with his eyes. "Where is your phone? I've been calling…"

"I know," I cut him off, turning and plopping down onto the leather couch he'd provided me when he bought this place.

It's a little clinical. The leather isn't broken in yet, and everything smells brand new, mainly because this isn't home.

The clubhouse is.

"I know this is a lot, Aella, but I wasn't calling because of that. Well…" He scrubs his hand over the back of his head. "At first, I was, but then I got word about what happened and wanted to check on you."

My heart skips a beat as I sit forward on the couch. "What happened? "

I hold my breath as he lifts an eyebrow. "You don't know? Fuck, Aella…"

He comes closer, sitting on the massive, cherry wood coffee table and hanging his head before looking back up at me with the same eyes that dwell in my eye sockets.

"Tell me," I say shakily.

"Miles is missing. Taken, my sources say. Of course, the Cobras are on it, and I'm certain they'll find him, but I wanted to know how you're holding up because I know Susan is a mess…"

I stand as he trails off, sensing the shift between us. "Fuck Susan, who gives a flying fuck how she feels? She abandoned them, Dad. She doesn't get to waltz back in and give a fuck about them now. When did he… What happened… Goddamnit…" I drop to a crouch, my hands over my head as my breathing grows ragged, my chest burning as it gets heavy, and I feel as though the weight of the world is sitting on top of it.

"Aella, hey…" Dad's hand comes down on my shoulder, and even though I want to lean into his comfort, I can't because my world is crumbling. I almost lost Braxton after he was stabbed, and now I have lost Miles. Just when everything was coming together, just when things were…

I stand, grasping at my chest as I breathe through the panic. "Get the fuck out."

Moving to my bedroom, I forget myself and begin throwing off my clothes and sliding into jeans and riding boots. Once I'm in a hoodie, my hair up and under the hood, I storm back into the living room and grab my purse.

"Aella, let me drive you wherever you need to go…"

"No." I stand with the door open, holding it for him to leave. He finally gets the hint, but not before stopping before me and looking at me with sympathetic eyes. "We love him, too, you know? Whatever you need, we'll be there for you."

My eyes narrow on him, hate beaming from them. "The fucking audacity of you two is fucking disgusting."

He winces but doesn't say another word before moving into the hall. I lock up and run past him, opting for the stairs because I know he'll choose the elevator.

When I'm finally in the lobby, I run past the doorman, who stands at my commotion.

"Miss, can I help you…"

I push outside, breathing heavily, tears running down my face. "Where are you?" I whisper, rushing down the alleyway to the right side of my apartment building—where a Cobra is usually perched against a bike.

It's empty.

"Where are you?!" I scream through the night, my heart fracturing under the weight of what's become of my life.

A knocking sound gets my attention, and a man steps out of the shadows. It takes my eyes a minute to adjust.

"Sully?" I cry, rushing towards him. Forgetting myself, I wrap around him, sobbing into the cold leather of his vest. He holds me close to him, not hesitating to comfort me .

"Take me home?" I plead, sniffling.

I pull back and look up at him. His eyes search mine as if he knows something I don't—the state Braxton is likely in without his brother and lover beside him—but I can handle what I'm walking into.

Or so I think.

He nods, inclining his head toward his bike, barely visible in the darkness behind him.

Once I'm on, I enclose my arms around him, leaning into his back to use him as a shield from the icy wind.

"I have to get there, Sully. Fast."

He doesn't reply or look back, but the speed with which he takes off tells me he understands what I need, even if he can't hear me ask for it.

I tighten my arms around him in thanks.

It's not until the red light, when he lets his hand leave the throttle and brushes over mine in support that the tears find me again.

It's a crushing loss.

I don't know how they've survived it this long.

I only thought I knew what I was walking into. Braxton is in jeans and no shirt, and his ripped body and tattoos are on full display, even though it's freezing outside.

Instead of ordering search parties or rocking on the floor in his room, he's working on his broken bike .

"Brax," I say, voice cracking.

He freezes, his hand tightening on the wrench within it, but he doesn't look at me. He doesn't even turn in my direction, even though I know he heard me.

Tears of guilt trickle out of my eyes. How much can someone cry before dehydration?

"You show up now?" he says, standing and throwing the wrench at the ground.

The clanking of metal on concrete makes me jolt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I didn't know what was happening here."

"No, you didn't. Nor did you fucking care, either."

His tone grates my nerves, and I'm sorry for making him into this version of himself. Then again, he's using his anger towards me to deal with what's happening, so is it so bad?

"I—"

His eyes bore into me, stopping me in my tracks. He creeps closer, looking every bit the killer I know he is. "You abandoned us. Hid from us. I thought we were all on the same fucking page, Aella. After the hospital…" He shifts his head from side to side, stretching his neck to release tension.

Fear scampers in my veins.

"I didn't…"

"Bambi, don't forget who the fuck I am. Please don't lie to me. I can feel lies in my veins like fucking poison. Don't insult me that way."

"I did. I abandoned you." I look at my feet, aware of him getting closer because I can feel the air shifting to give him a wide berth .

The vibrations of Braxton Bardot slinking closer cause the hair on my body to stand on end.

"I expected to find you bloodied in a fucking ditch, your nails pulled from their beds from trying to crawl back to me," he lifts my hands to inspect them, and I keep my eyes downturned, "but these nail beds look clean and pristine, nor do I see blood leaking from any portion of your body."

"No," I whisper.

"So, this confession should be that much more interesting, hm? So, go on out with it. Tell me why you left me alone. Why did you let me sit in that fucking appointment alone while that doctor read off my diagnosis when you promised to be there? Why were you missing when I needed you most? When I stood by the road and looked at Miles's wrecked bike in shambles. Tell me!" He finishes with a loud shout as I keep my eyes turned away.

I'd forgotten his appointment in all my self-pity and wallowing.

Fuck.

I flick my eyes toward him, knowing I can't tell him like this. I can't admit where I've been and what happened to him while he's in this state. I jut my chin up in defiance.

"We need to find Miles, Brax. We can deal with this later…" his hand cut my words off, wrapping around my throat.

Fear hurries through me, sinking to my marrow. The look in his eyes is cold, calculating. "No. I have people looking for Miles. Who the fuck do you think I am? I don't run from those I love."

His words settle between us as his hand tightens, and I gasp for air. My hands scratch at his hold, but it's unwavering.

"Maybe you need incentive, hm? Is that it? You need to see the other side of me, Aella?"

I try to shake my head, but his grip is too tight.

He nods, jaw tightening as he clenches his teeth.

He seems to decide, and he lets my neck go to lift me over his shoulder.

"Brax!" I wiggle in his hold.

He says nothing else, but as he treks through the cold, headed toward the house, I know where he's headed.

I hope he doesn't leave me tied to that infernal table this time.