Until We Fly (The Beautifully Broken) (24 page)

I hear Jacey behind me, lingering, trying to decide what to say.   It annoys the fuck out of me.

“Just go, Jacey,” I tell her firmly.  “Seriously.  Have a safe flight.”

She flies back to me, throwing herself at me, hugging me tight.  Her arms clamp around my throat and I have to pry them off so I can breathe. 

“What the hell?”

She glances up at me, her eyes watery.  “I’m sorry she hurt you, Brand.  It sucks.  I don’t know why she left, but you deserve to be happy.”

I look away. “Yeah.  I do.  But you know what they say…”

“What do they say?”

A voice comes from the doorway, a voice with a French accent. 

Jesus.  Do people not ever knock around here?

Camille Greene stands elegantly in the woodshop, as out of place among the dust and wood shavings as Maxwell had been on the porch. 

She stares from Jacey to me, curiosity in her blue eyes, at the way Jacey is draped around my neck, but she doesn’t say anything else.

“It doesn’t matter what they say,” I mutter, and I gently push Jacey off my lap. I stare at her, my expression firm. 

“Go back to the UK.  Go be with your husband.  I’ll be fine.”

She nods.  “Fine.  But call me if you need me.”  She takes a step, then two, then turns around. 

“I just have to say this one thing.  I don’t know her very well, but Nora didn’t look like someone who wanted to leave, Brand.  I don’t know why else she would be leaving, but she didn’t look like it was a choice she wanted to make.”

This yanks my head up. “Why do you say that?”

Jacey shakes her head.  “I can’t explain it. It was just a look in her eyes.”

A look in her eyes.  Jesus.  Leave it to a woman to say something like that. 

Jacey turns and walks past Camille, who then steps further inside.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she tells me elegantly.  “I’m sorry.”

“How did you know to look for me in here?” I ask her curiously.  She shrugs her slim shoulders. 

“You weren’t at the other cottage, and I knew this was your parents’. So I came looking.”

I stare at her, at her silk pantsuit and her perfectly coiffed hair, her jewels, her expensive taste. 

“Why?”

My question is as stark as I feel. 

She returns my gaze without flinching. 

“Because I agree with your friend.  My daughter has run away, and I don’t think she wanted to. And I need your help to get her back.”

For just one second, I feel hope rise inside of me, but then I snort and turn away, because I remember why Nora ran away. 

“She ran from
me,”
I answer coldly, getting up and walking toward the fridge again.  I unload three more beers into my arms before I walk back.  “Because I’m not what she wants, and she didn’t want to be here anymore. So I won’t be of much help in finding her.”

Camille steps forward and puts her hand on my arm.  It’s slender and cool and I look at her.  Her face is pained, worried.  From here, I can see that she’s tired.  Like she didn’t sleep much.

“Nora texted me in the middle of the night,” Camille continues, like I’d not spoken at all.  “It was very strange. I know you know that all is not right in my family.  I feel like I can trust you… that I can tell you this.”  She draws in a big breath.

“I told Nora once that if William ever hurt her, to come to me instead of her father.  Because there are things she doesn’t know.  Maxwell isn’t… well, it doesn’t matter right now. But what does matter is that she texted me last night.  This is what it said.”

She pulls her phone from her purse, finds the text and hands it to me. 

Mom,

You were right. William is a monster. But I’m going to do something about it.  You might not see me for a while.  But I love you.  Don’t worry.  Either way, everything is finally going to be ok.

The words, so stark and formal, cut through me and send chills down my spine.  It doesn’t sound like Nora at all… unless she was desperate.  And she sounds desperate. 

What the fuck did I miss? 

“What does she mean that she’s going to do something about it?” Camille asks me in a whisper, her forehead furrowed and her fingers gripping my arm.  “What is she going to do?”

I shake my head slowly from side to side, trying to wrap my mind around the words. 

“I don’t know what happened.  She went to work yesterday… said she had to meet her father to go over case files.  When she came back, she acted strange.”

My voice trails off, but Camille is already shaking her head.  “She didn’t meet Maxwell yesterday.  He was at the house.  All day.”

We look at each other and Camille is already pulling out her phone. 

She punches in a number, then waits.  “Hello?  Darleen?  It’s Camille. Darling, I can’t get a hold of William.  Is he traveling?”

She pauses. 

“He’s flying out of San Francisco for Dubai?  On the company jet?”

 A pause. 

“Okay.  Is he the only traveler listed on the flight manifest?”

Another pause, and her eyes meet mine.

“Okay.  Well, I’ll just call Nora then.  Thank you, Darleen.”

She pushes end and I can see her finger shaking. 

“What’s wrong?”

She looks at me again.  “William and Nora are taking the corporate jet to Dubai this evening.  It was supposed to fly out this afternoon, but there’s been some sort of delay at the airport. Something about the flight patterns, etc.  That’s not important. The important thing is that Nora is leaving with William. There’s no reason that she would do that, unless somehow, he’s making her.”

My stomach drops and the hair rises on the back of my neck as I remember the way William watched Nora at the dinner party, at the way his eyes undressed her. It gives me chills even now. 

Camille puts her hand on mine.  “Please.  I know you care about Nora.  I know it because I can see it.  She didn’t leave you willingly. I feel it.  I know it.  William is an evil man.  Nora is… she feels trapped in her life, helpless to change it.  But I know things that can free her.  Please.  She won’t answer her phone. Can you help me get to her?  I have a feeling she’s planning something… dire.”

The wording of her text is strange.
  Either way, everything is finally going to be ok.

Either way
what?

I nod. “Okay. I’ll help.  But San Francisco is a big place.  We can’t possibly know where they’ll be until their plane takes off.”

Camille shakes her head.  “I know exactly where they’ll be.  San Francisco is thirty minutes from Nora’s apartment.  She kept it, even though her father told her to let it go.  She told me that she needed a place of her own, a place where she can be alone.  There is no
good
reason that she would take William to that apartment, but I know she is, even though she absolutely hates him.  Even though she fears him. Darleen told me that William is already in California, far ahead of their departure time.  So what in the world is going on between now and this evening?”

Camille’s voice is rushed and cold and afraid. 

And I know she’s right.  We’ve got to get there.  Nora would never choose to be alone with William. 

I know that as sure as I’m breathing. 

She’s been hiding something this week.  Her attitude was fidgety, nervous, unsettled.  I didn’t know why. 

A sense of urgency presses against me, and my instincts roar to life, even through the haze of the beer. Something is very wrong and all she’d said was
it’s fine. 

My instincts had been right.  She’s not fine.

She was lying.    

I pull out my phone and try to call her, but it goes instantly to voicemail. 

“Nora, call me when you get this.  It’s important.”

I look at Camille.  “Let’s go.”

She nods and takes my arm.  “Greene Corp has a second jet at O’Hare.  We can use it.”

My heart pounds against my ribs as we tear down the road in Camille’s Mercedes.  Adrenaline pumps through me and I realize something with a start. 

The reason I’m so devastated by Nora’s leaving… is because I love her.

When we get to her, whether she still wants to leave me or not, I have to tell her.  She needs to know, and I have to say the words. 

I wanted to say them last night, and something held me back.  And if I can’t get to her today, she’ll never know.

 I’ll have to live knowing that the beautiful, seemingly confident girl who secretly feels worthless doesn’t know I love her… she doesn’t know that she’s more valuable than anything on the face of the earth.  

William Greene had better pray to any God that will listen that he hasn’t harmed a hair on her head. 

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nora

My blood is chilled in my veins as I open the door to my apartment and look around. 

Nothing is disturbed.  Everything is exactly the way I left it when I packed for Angel Bay a few weeks ago.

The apartment is still cozy and neat and clean.  Not fancy, but perfect for me.  It was all I needed when I went through law school.  I could’ve lived here forever. 

Leaving my front door unlocked, I set my bag down by the kitchen table and sink into a chair, my head in my hands.   

How has everything changed in so short a time?

A few weeks ago, I knew what my life was going to be like and even though I hated it, I was resigned to doing it.  I’m a Greene, after all. I do what it fucking takes. 

But then… there was Brand.  And everything changed. 

I can’t keep doing this. 

I can’t. 

I square my shoulders.   My father has an iron-clad contract with my signature on it, tying me to him for the next twenty years.  William has information on Brand that could ruin him… and
will
ruin him if I don’t comply. 

There’s only one thing that I can do to survive. 

I have to take care of William and then run.

I’ll hide where my father can never find me.

It’s all I can do. 

All of a sudden, I feel a strange calm come over me and I feel as though I’m watching from afar, from outside of my body. 

This isn’t me, this isn’t my life. 

It’ll all be over soon. 

One way or another. 

I get up and calmly walk to the bedroom. 

Standing on my toes, I reach onto the top shelf of my closet and pull down a box. 

Inside, a silver 9mm gleams in the light. 

I never thought I’d have the balls to use it.  I never thought I could. 

But oh, how things change. 

I run my finger over the cold metal before I lift it from the box and load it. 

Very, very calmly, I take off my clothes and sit on my bed in only my black bra and panties.  In the middle of the bed, I tuck my legs beneath me, and wait. 

It’ll all be over soon. 

One way or another. 

Out the window, I watch the ocean.  It crashes against the shore, while sail boats and paddleboards ride the waves.  Everyone out there is carefree and happy.  Everyone out there is normal. 

In here, I’m tainted and twisted and used.

But it all ends today. 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Brand

 I stare down at the wings of the plane, as we descend through the clouds and toward the ground. 

I can’t focus on anything, other than Nora’s face the other night.

Her eyes had been so wide, as she’d looked at me in the dark.   As I’d entered her, she’d sighed so soft, and then whispered into my neck. 

Make me good, Brand. 

Her words were so quiet that I don’t even know that she meant to speak. 

But the words twist and turn in my heart right now.

Make me good.

Because she thinks she’s not. She thinks she’s used. 

Unworthy. 

Because of whatever that fucking asshole has done to her.

Make me good, Brand. 

I grit my teeth and squirm in my seat.  I need to get to her.  Now. 

She’s everything good in the world.  She just doesn’t know it. 

And I will fucking annihilate him if he’s touched her. 

He’ll beg for mercy. 

And I will not give it to him. 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nora

My spine is ram-rod straight as I wait. 

As the clock ticks the minutes past. 

The seconds.

The moments. 

This summer, there just wasn’t enough time with Brand.  It all ticked past so fast.  And now that I’ve left him, the seconds are coming so slowly, passing like razor blades on my skin, achingly, wretchedly slow.

I can do this. 

I’m brave.

I’m brave.

I’m fucking brave. 

Being brave doesn’t mean not being afraid, Nora.  It means being afraid and doing it anyway. 

The mere memory of Brand’s voice, his words, makes me smile, warms my heart and buoys my resolve.

How dare William threaten him? 

I could’ve cowered forever under threats toward me, but toward Brand?

That’s where they fucked up. 

The front door opens.  I hear the latch, I hear the knob. I lift my chin. 

I’m fucking brave. 

I’m fucking brave. 

I reach under the edge of the mattress, my fingertips reaching, feeling.   Cool metal answers my question.  It’s there… just within reach.  Concealed and waiting. 

It all ends today. 

A polished loafer appears in my bedroom doorway, and I follow the legs up to the waist, up to the chest, up to the face where hardened brown eyes stare at me. 

“Nora,” my father says, a camera dangling from his hand.  “I see you’re ready.”

He eyes me, all of me, my bare legs, my breasts spilling from my bra, my bare skin, my arms, my face.  It’s all exposed. 

For my father and my uncle.