Page 37 of The Wreckage Of Us
“Rough night?”
I turned. Sierra stood there, a glass of water in hand.
I blinked, startled. “You… you’re talking to me?”
She gave a wry smile. “Don’t sound so shocked. I’m not a total bitch, you know.”
I laughed softly, rubbing my arms. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Sierra leaned on the railing, her sleek black dress shimmering under the moonlight. “Look… I don’t know what’s going on with you. But I know what the media says, and I know most of it’s crap. Just… take care of yourself, okay?”
I opened my mouth to respond — to say thank you, or maybe to tell her to fuck off, I wasn’t sure — but a sharp voice interrupted.
“Si, let’s go.”
Ace stood in the doorway, his gaze sliding past me like I was a shadow on the wall.
Sierra gave me a small, almost apologetic shrug. “See you around, Brit.”
And just like that, they were gone.
I stood there, the cool night air brushing against my skin, and for the first time in a long while, the tears didn’t come.
The next morning, I sat at the kitchen table, sipping black coffee, sunglasses hiding my bloodshot eyes.
Jasper walked in, phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes, Mother, I know… No, she’s fine… Yes, Janice is coming over later…” He paused, glancing at me. “No, Mother. Leave Brit alone.”
I smirked behind my cup.
When he hung up, he shook his head. “She’s worried you’re damaging the brand.”
“Of course she is.” I stretched my legs, my silk robe falling open at the thigh. “Tell her not to worry. Every man signs an NDA before touching me.”
Jasper flinched. “Jesus, Brit.”
I grinned, sharp as glass. “Relax, Jaz. I’m just having fun.”
But even as I said it, my chest ached.
Fun. Right.
That night, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the scar running along my hip.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Brit?” Jasper called softly. “Janice and I are heading out.”
“Have fun,” I murmured, fingers tracing the scar.
I waited until I heard the front door shut.
Then I reached for the bottle of vodka hidden at the back of my closet.
By midnight, I was drunk in a stranger’s bed. His name didn’t matter.
Afterward, I stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink as I stared at my reflection.
