His response was warranted. She was being paranoid. Normal people didn’t care if you used their bathroom or yourownphone. She didn’t need to hide that from Brennan. But old habits died hard, and Skye snuck into the master bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.
She turned on the water and did a quick clean up before toweling off, and then put on her bra, panties, and camisole. She sat on the lid of the toilet, phone in hand and intending to do a search for a solution to step two.Un-fucking-fortunately, when Skye tapped the screen to wake up the phone, she found countless missed call alerts, voicemail notifications, and text messages.
And all of them were fromJesse.
Jesse: Where the fuck are you? You missed your appointment.
Jesse: Call me, you worthless cunt.
Jesse: Answer your fucking phone. I’m going to beat you within an inch of your worthless life.
Jesse: You took the fucking money? You’re dead, bitch.
Jesse: There’s nowhere you can hide and I’ve got people staking out the bus station.
Jesse: If you run, I’ll find you and laugh while I choke you to death.
Skye’s fingers trembled as she swiped away all the messages and notifications. The phone slipped out of her hands and clattered onto the floor.
“You all right in there, sweetheart?” came Brennan’s voice from the other side of the door. “I found us a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.”
The dichotomy between the two men was not lost on her.
“I’m fine,” she called back. “Be right out.”
“Take your time, honey.” He chuckled. “I promise not to eat any until you’re back.”
She scoffed silently and muttered in disbelief,“What the fuck?”
Who even was Brennan Riley? Someone with all the money and luxury and privilege imaginable, who could get away with whatever he wanted, and he was out there waiting to shareice creamwith her.
What the fuck, indeed.
Brennan’s bathroom suddenly felt like the safest place in the entire world. And un-fucking-fortunately, she couldn’t take up permanent residence in his bathroom because she had to get as far away from New Orleans as she could, as fast as she could.
Women’s shelter, she punched into Google.
There were three in New Orleans proper, and one in Chalmette. That was still too close. She needed to be farther away than that. But she had no car. A cab would be ridiculously expensive, and she needed to save her money. She just needed to get a good distance from the city, and then she would find a bus station there. Wherevertherewas.
Skye glanced up and stared at the bathroom door.
What if Brennan owned a car? He owned one of the most iconic houses in the French Quarter; surely he had a car he used for joyriding or whatever it was rich people did. Maybe he’d give her a ride.
She narrowed her eyes at the door.
Yeah, and then maybe he’d ask questions.
But didn’t he just say earlier…
“If you’re still here on Friday, I’d like to take you to see some attractions that aren’t within the city limits.”
Perfect.
Skye would go with him wherever it was that he had in mind, and then she’d just disappear. Ghosting him like that would be the pinnacle of shitty and just plain rude, but that was a reasonable sacrifice for her freedom. And it wasn’t like she or Brennan owed each other anything.
So, Friday it was then. One more full day, and then she’d be home free. To where, she had no idea yet, but she’d figure it out.
Standing up, Skye absently cleared her browsing history and then rolled her eyes at herself. Brennan wasn’t going to check her phone. And Jesse wasn’t around to check it either. Jesse would never find her here. Brennan’s palatial French Quarter home was her temporary fortress of safety, and Skye was struck by the fact that she’d never been more grateful for anything.
