by Jaymin Eve
His declaration just about rendered me unable to continue speaking, but I pushed through the thickness in my throat and told him the truth. "Not much at all. I was never allowed in the room when they discussed business, and outside of the property portfolio our parents left us, I have no idea what he's ventured into. But Blake is as dodgy as they come. If he's been working for your company, then you cannot trust what he's done. He's been lining his own pockets somehow."
Dylan pursed his lips, his anger just barely contained. "From what I've gathered in my last few minutes of research, we've been using your brother's trucking company to transport our goods from the docks, nothing that would give him access to the inner workings of Delta."
Blake had figured it out somehow. "The entire reason he probably went for that transport contract was so he'd have an in."
Dylan was about to snap something else, his eyebrows already drawn together as he let out an annoyed huff, but he was interrupted by the door slamming open. Ben strolled in, tray in hand, santa hat perched on his blond hair, and a smile on his face.
"Brooklyn!" he exclaimed, sauntering across to me. "Heard you were in need of some sustenance."
The tray was dropped before me, and it was literally groaning under the weight of all the food.
"Wow," I said with a laugh. "Did you grab one of everything."
He booped me on the nose, ignoring the scowl of death that had spread across Dylan's face. "Anything for you, sweetheart."
A gun appeared on the other side of the desk, and as Dylan spun it around his finger, the butt settled into his hand. Ben's joking smile died off, and he hauled ass out of the room without another word.
I blinked at the weapon. "What are you doing? You can't just pretend you're going to shoot someone for flirting with me."
He slammed his gun onto the desk. "Who said anything about pretending?”
I growled right back at him, getting to my feet and almost knocking the tray off the table. "You need to calm the fuck down, Delta. I’ve legit had enough of angry men in my life, and considering I'm about to be interrogated by the woman you're in love with, you should really give me a goddamn break."
The gun was forgotten as he got to his feet as well and leaned across the table until we were nearly face to face. "I am not in love with Riley. Not anymore. But I do care about her and respect the fuck out of her. She is fair and will give us all the information I currently don't possess. This is the best course of action."
I scoffed before sinking into the chair again, suddenly exhausted to the point of wanting to close my eyes and lie my head on the roast beef sub in front of me. Were these random bouts of exhaustion a normal pregnancy—no, virus—a normal virus thing?
"Just eat, Brooklyn," Dylan said, sounding weary himself, before he retook his seat.
I eyed the absolute ton of food in front of me and reached for a ham and cheese sandwich. That seemed like something my churning stomach might keep down. The first bite tasted like dust, but it didn't immediately projectile-vomit out of me, so I just kept going, chewing each piece like it was the most important work I had to do today.
Anything was better than trying to break this awkward-as-fuck silence simmering in the air between Dylan and me. He went back to working, but there was still plenty of time for him to keep an eye on me, his brows drawing together every time I wasn't actively eating.
In the end, I managed to finish an entire sandwich, a few pieces of apple, and a couple of chocolate chip cookies. When he was satisfied I’d had enough, Dylan wolfed down the rest of the food, and it didn't escape my notice that he hadn't touched one thing on the tray until I was completely done.
There was an honorable man inside of him, even if it was hidden under layers of scary alpha. Whoever finally claimed the full heart of this man was going to be one lucky lady. I hoped she would know that and never take it for granted. Pun intended.
The noise of a throaty engine broke the silence some time later, and Dylan's gaze shot to the door. "Riley’s here."
He knew the sound of her car—totally normal for someone you're not in love with.
This was going to be one fucked up afternoon, I already knew it.
17
We sat in silence as two doors slammed, and the sound of arguing reaching us before the people did.
"Beck, seriously. If you don't get off my fucking ass, I'm going to shoot you. In the dick."
There was a low, deep chuckle, the sound so deliciously masculine. I felt a jolt of excitement that I was going to meet Sebastian Beckett as well today. I mean, from what I'd seen on television and read in the news, he was even scarier than Dylan, and almost as handsome, but mostly I was curious to observe the dynamic between the three of them.
"Come on, Butterfly," Beck replied when they were close to the door. "You love my dick too fucking much to shoot it."
She let out a strangled laugh. "Yes, that is mostly true, and I also happen to love your stupid ass, but you really didn't need to cancel everything and follow me up here today."
There was a pause, and I could have sworn that Riley let out a little huff of air. Dylan sighed as he got to his feet. "Ready for this hot mess?" he not that quietly asked me.
"We fucking heard that, asshole," Beck snapped from the other side of the door before he went back to whatever he was doing to Riley that made her sound so breathless.
Thankfully before I had to let my imagination roam free, the door flew open, and a chick walked in. She was pink cheeked, puffy lipped, and her breathing was definitely more rapid than normal.
She was also stunningly beautiful.
The television didn't do Riley Deboise justice, with her gorgeous long hair, big blue eyes, and the sort of tanned skin that fake-tan companies spent millions trying to recreate. She was dressed “billionaire chic,” in a power suit, designer heels, and her makeup perfect. She even made the little snowman earrings in her lobes look high class instead of cheesy.
She looked like she had her shit together more than any person I'd ever met, and since she was all of twenty-one, that was saying a lot.
"Dylan!" Riley exclaimed, hurrying forward so she could throw her arms around him.
My heart ached as he jerked her up into his body, holding her tight, as genuine affection softened his face. "Riles! I missed you."
Looking briefly down at the table, I tried not to barf up everything I'd just eaten. No matter what Dylan insisted, there was something between them.
Beck was right behind his girl, not removing his possessive stare from her, and I had to swallow at how dominating his presence was. Just like Riley—and Dylan—there was an otherworldly beauty and strength about him. If someone told me these three had popped straight out of a fantasy novel, I wouldn't have been surprised.
Beck's hair was as dark as Riley's, and his eyes were such a dark gray they almost looked black. The urge to cower under his hooded stare was strong, and it wasn't until Dylan got between us with a snap of "Enough, Beck," that I was able to breathe freely again.
Riley sat in Dylan's chair, so she was right across from me. As soon as she settled, the other two relaxed, like Riley was their sun, and they orbited around her. I wondered what it would be like to have that sort of relationship with anybody.
"Hi," she said, examining me, her eyes no doubt picking up all the ways I looked like shit as her gaze ran across my face. "I'm Riley Deboise."
She didn't hold out her hand, and I didn't offer mine. "I'm Brooklyn Lawson."
"I know. I have an entire file on you."
Of course she fucking did. "Nice," I said, keeping my voice casual. "And I have an entire Times Youngest Billionaire article on you. I'm assuming both are correct and accurate."
Her lips twitched, and she seemed to relax forward a little. "Hmmm, not exactly the mouse that Dylan described you as."
Ouch, that fucking hurt.
I felt his eyes on my face, no doubt taking in my reaction to that, so I forced the pain not to show and didn’t look hi
s way once. I just stared at Riley, unblinking. My stare did nothing to intimidate her as she relaxed into her chair, fingers steepling in front of her. "Let me break it down for you, Brooklyn. Delta dabbles in a lot of shit, so much that I don't even know half of it. But we have a very strong interest in weapons—namely the manufacture and distribution of them."
This didn't sound good, and it cemented my terrible feeling about what Blake had done.
"Now, when our parents ran the company, they were more interested in the illegal distribution of said weapons. But we've been cleaning that shit up, and we're mostly above board now."
Mostly. That almost made me smile. Riley would have been more than a little likeable in, you know, different circumstances.
"Your brother stole a prototype weapon of mass destruction." There was a beat of silence after this as she let the horror of that sink in. "We’d just stolen it ourselves from the creator, deep in Mexico, with the aim of getting it out of the public marketplace. But then it went missing during one of his transports."
I blinked because the previous black-suited assholes had been harping on about files, not a weapon of mass destruction. But seriously… The world was so seriously fucked. Blake had absolutely no morals when it came to murdering people and would let the world burn for more money and power.
Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward. "I don't have any weapons."
She nodded. "Oh, we know. The weapon has been recovered, but Blake gave us intel that you were the one who set the entire venture up and downloaded the blueprint from our servers. These blueprints will allow more of these weapons to be manufactured."
She crossed her arms, staring me down, and I mimicked her pose because I was about fucking done today.
"My brother is a lying asshole. I'm eighteen years old; what the fuck would I want with a weapon of mass destruction?"
Riley tilted her head like that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "It could be worth billions on the open market."
I mimicked her again because we were playing some stupid game at this point. "If you have a file on me, you should see that I leave my house to go to school and nothing else."
Except those few times I’d snuck out to fuck Dylan, and if that came back to bite me in the ass again, then... maybe, for the first time, I might wish I'd never met him.
Riley just stared at me, her face totally impassive. And she didn't blink once... not one damn time. It took everything in my power not to squirm under her gaze.
"I call bullshit," Beck muttered in a deep rumble. "Never leaving your house only makes you more suspicious, not less."
Riley's eyes were still locked on mine, but her nostrils flared slightly as she inhaled. "I'm inclined to agree."
"Cut it the fuck out, you two," Dylan snapped, his voice like a crack of thunder that allowed me to jerk free of Riley's gaze. "You're both being assholes, and it's not cute. Brooklyn didn't mastermind this theft, and you damn well know it."
Surprise rippled through me, and my eyes widened as I looked up at him. He’d been supportive but had also seemed guarded since Kingston’s accusation. I hadn’t been able to get a sense for whether he believed it or not. Apparently not.
"Look at her," he continued, indicating to me. "You two are some of the best at reading people. You want to tell me this timid, shy girl with crippling self-doubt is the person responsible for the theft of a weapon’s prototype and blueprint?" He scoffed a laugh, and my feelings stung with every word. Was this what he truly thought of me?
Riley pursed her lips, drumming her fingernails on the desktop as she considered his point, though, so I swallowed back my tears.
"Jesus Christ, Riles," Dylan muttered, bending down to speak quietly to his friend. Not so quiet that I couldn't hear every cutting word, though. "Her own brother has been abusing her for years, and she's never spoken up or sought help. This girl isn't capable of the crime you're accusing her of. It's a goddamn miracle she's even stayed alive this long."
Ouch. Again.
And yet, he wasn't wrong. Every word of that was truth, no matter how badly it hurt to hear from Dylan of all people. I couldn't choke back the pain any longer, though, and tears welled over in my eyes.
"Be that as it may," Riley said in a calm, considering tone, "I think we all know how easily we can be manipulated by what a person seems to be. Given the evidence suggesting Brooklyn is at least involved, we can't just take her word and walk away. You know how important those files are, Dylan. Are you cool with dismissing our best lead?"
Dylan's eyes flicked over me, taking in the silent tears tracking down my face, then dropping to where my hands trembled in my lap. He wasn't going to stand up for me. Not to Riley. This was the reason I'd walked away in the first fucking place: She would always come first for him.
Beck's hand closed over Riley's shoulder, pulling her attention away from me. The way she gazed up at him with total adoration hurt my heart. Not because I was jealous for what they had—even though I was—but because I felt sad for Dylan. This was the girl he'd been pining after? She didn't love him back, not in a romantic way. She was one hundred percent Sebastian Beckett's woman, and there was no room left in her heart for Dylan.
It killed me to see. He deserved better. He deserved a woman who was head over heels for Dylan and no one else.
"Maybe we should speak with Dylan alone, Butterfly," Beck murmured to his fiancée. "There's more going on here than meets the eye." His sharp gaze ran over my tear-stained face, then hardened into a glare when he looked over at his best friend.
Fuck. Fuck. Did he know? Had Dylan said something? No... surely not. Then again, what the fuck else could Beck be talking about?
"I can go," I offered in a small voice, sniffling before my nose dripped. So sexy, Brooklyn.
"I think that would be best," Riley agreed. She wasn't being a bitch, exactly, but holy crap, I didn't see us becoming friends any time soon. Understandable when she thought I'd stolen something so serious from her company. The fact that they'd stolen it in the first place seemed irrelevant because their intentions had been pure. They assumed mine were not.
Dylan shook his head before I could stand up from my chair. "No, Brooke, you stay. This concerns you; we're not discussing it behind your back like you're a stray dog being put down."
Riley's head snapped around to stare at Dylan, then she turned back to me with her lips parted in surprise. Oh crap. What had Dylan just said about her being amazing at reading people?
“Well, shit," Riley murmured with a short laugh. "Huh. Not your usual type, Dylan."
My cheeks burned with humiliation. Fuck this. I might be a timid mouse, but I wasn't a goddamn doormat.
"You know what?" I announced, shoving myself out of my chair. "I need some air. You three can just go ahead and talk about me while I'm gone. You seem to have no problem doing it while I'm sitting right here, anyway."
"Brooke, sit down," Dylan snapped, glaring those hard, green eyes at me, but for once I didn't jump to do his bidding.
I shook my head. "No, I don't think I will. Like you just said, I'm not a damn dog." Then, because my confidence was already faltering, I shot Riley and Beck a nervous look and wet my lips. "Excuse me."
Before anyone could argue further, I bolted out of the cabin and into the cool night air. I’d barely made it halfway across the lawn, though, when my legs gave out under me and I dissolved into a crying mess in the dirt.
Fuck me. Now that I'd seen Riley Duboise with my own eyes, I knew there was no hope for me and Dylan. Wrong place, wrong time. So what in the ever loving fuck would I do if I really was pregnant?
18
The office cabin door opened behind me, and I closed my eyes briefly, really wishing none of them would see me like this. Especially Dylan. He’d already referred to me as both a mouse and a fucking dog in the few-minute conversation with his friends. One might have come from Riley's mouth, but she was just repeating his thoughts. And honestly... he wasn't wrong.
I'
d let myself become this thing, an animal to be either hurt or petted when the time arose. I was fucking done with it.
I didn't have to worry, because it was only Beck shouting out to the Delta goons, who had still been hanging around, that they could take off. Because, yeah, I was clearly no fucking threat. I could almost feel his pitying gaze, which sent a jolt of anger through me. His boots sounded on the deck briefly before the door slammed again.
The cars took off, all the black suits inside, and once again I was alone. Not wanting anyone else to see me like this, I pulled myself to my feet and wiped the tears off my face, all the while wishing it was as easy to wipe away the ache in my chest.
Beck didn't know this, of course, but he'd just done me a huge favor. No guards meant no one would see my next steps as I changed my entire fucking life. This was a point of reckoning for me, the moment of realization that I could no longer be the same Brooklyn Lawson who had first come to this camp. Who did what I was told the moment I was told it for fear of the consequences if I didn't.
That Brooklyn was dead. And from her ashes, I was going to rise into someone who took control of my damn life and stopped waiting for someone else to ride in and save my stupid ass.
Without a single look back at the office, because a new life meant letting that bastard go, I raced toward his cabin in the woods. On the way, I focused on my plan, running over my next steps in my head. I couldn’t waste time—Dylan would be on my ass so fast—but this was my best opportunity and I wasn’t going to waste it.
After tripping over more than a few rocks, I had to slow my pace. I wasn't worried about the injury to myself, but I was possibly pregnant with another life. It was my job as a possible mother to ensure I protected my child.
Step one of my new life was to get a damn pregnancy test.
When I reached the cabin, I grabbed my backpack because it would hopefully not have a tracker in it, and stuffed it full of the survival gear that had been in the camp provided bag. My plan was to leave via the same path I'd used on arrival, then hitch-hike from there. While the path we’d come in by seemed fairly safe, one thing I had learned from being here was it never hurt to be prepared.