Page 24 of Release Me
I force a joviality to my tone that I don’t feel. ‘I’m not family.’
But how I fucking wish I was.
I shake my head, forcing a smile. ‘You all go. I’m still recovering from last night.’
Scarlett clicks her fingers. ‘You need the hair of the dog.’
‘I can’t stomach it.’ I counter gently. I’m not referring to the drink. I’m referring to being surrounded by all these couples so sickeningly in love that I have to question every single one of my life choices since my father told me I was to marry Anthony De Courcy.
And I can’t stomach being in such close proximity with the man I crave like a goddamn fucking drug.
The man whose t-shirt I stole and tucked beneath my pillow for later.
The man who haunts my dreams.
I feel him before I see him. Rian’s presence cuts through the chatter like a blade. He catches up with us, his expression grim. His dark gaze drinks me in like he hasn’t seen me for weeks instead of minutes.
‘Everything okay?’ I ask quietly.
‘Anthony wanted me to swing by your place and check you’re okay.’
Translation: Anthony wanted me to swing by your place and check if I’ve got another man there because I gave Patrick the night off, switched off all the security cameras, and didn’t answer any of his messages or calls. Fuck him.
My husband thinks it’s okay for him to stick his dick anywhere he likes, but God forbid I get any notions. I’m under no illusion. Anthony De Courcy is a possessive man. He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me. He’d take it as a personal affront.
Rian’s thunderous expression assures me that the translation wasn’t lost on him.
‘We were just trying to convince Rebekka to come for a drink,’ Zara eyes Rian and they exchange an entire conversation with their eyes. It’s times like this I wish I had a sibling. Like Anthony, I’m an only child. But where he’s a spoilt brat, I picked up my family’s slack.
‘Another time,’ I promise. ‘I’m wrecked.’
‘I’ll take you home,’ Rian says, his voice brooking no argument.
‘Thomson or Walsh will drive her,’ Killian offers.
‘My driver will take her,’ Rian tips his head towards one of the security guys flanking us. ‘I’ll go with them.’ The protectiveedge in his tone is enough to silence the entire group. Caelon stares at us for a long beat, while Ivy snuggles in tighter under his arm. Killian raises an eyebrow. Sean exchanges a surprised glance with James, but no one challenges Rian.
Not even me.
I don’t know if it’s the best idea in the world—or the absolute worst. After what almost happened, after the way the music seemed to tether our souls tighter with every lyric, the thought of being alone with him again terrifies me. Not because I don’t trust him. But because yet again, I don’t trust myself.
He offers his arm out to link mine, then softly whispers into my ear, ‘Let’s get you home.’
The words lodge somewhere between my ribs. My pulse skips.
Home.
I wish I had one.
Truth is, I’ve never felt at home in the penthouse. In this city. In this country.
Except for when I’m with him.
Chapter Ten
RIAN
Callaghan pulls the Bentley up to the curb. The polished paint glints beneath the street lamps. I hate being chauffeured around—I prefer to be in control. But truthfully, am I ever in control when Rebekka is around?
