I couldn’t take the chance. Angie might not notice my absence for a night or two, but eventually, she’d miss her verbal punching bag. Like her wine, Angie was addicted to unloading her shit onto me. If she had a bad day, I paid the price.
And I needed my phone. Despite Brock offering to buy me a new one, everything I needed was in that phone. I didn’t want a new one. I liked my phone.
So I made the quick decision to go home, grab a few things, including my car, and get the hell out, all without seeing Carter. It shouldn’t be hard, considering the hour. Carter’s late and overindulgent lifestyle meant he slept in on the weekends. No way would he be up before noon, leaving me a few hours to sneak in and out.
Easy peasy.
Brock would be pissed.
But when wasn’t he annoyed with me?
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, telling myself I could do this. That I wasn’t scared shitless of going anywhere near that house with Carter in it. But it was all lies. I was scared of my asshole stepbrother and for good reason.
In theory, I shouldn’t stop living my life because of Carter. I didn’t want to let my stepbrother have that kind of power over me. I didn’t want to crawl under a rock or hide behind the Elite.
But talking about being brave and actually being brave were two separate entities.
It was all too soon. And I didn’twantto go to that house alone, but I also couldn’t bring Brock for fear he might actually go postal and kill my stepbrother.
Fuck!
Before I overthought everything, I made a rash decision. Taking advantage of Brock’s absence, I quickly tossed on the clothes I’d left on the bathroom floor, the ones I never wanted to wear again, and dialed the main line at Pattersons’ from the house phone in Brock’s room. One of the maids answered and quickly transferred me to Edmund, who agreed to come get me at once.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and asking Steven’s driver/bodyguard to pick me up was reserved for only extreme circumstances. In light of last night’s events, this classified as desperate.
The entire time I waited for Edmund, I thought for sure I’d see Brock’s Land Rover speeding up the hill and bust me. He didn’t.
Edmund picked me up outside the gated community five minutes later. He didn’t ask questions, but at the same time, the thin lips and silent treatment proved disapproving enough. Edmund would undoubtedly report to Steven my whereabouts and with whom I’d chosen to spend my Friday night. It was no secret what Steven thought of Brock.
I didn’t give a flying fuck. Steven could suck it. He was no better than his son, just older and wiser in his games.
Edmund swung the town car into the Pattersons’ driveway, smoothly easing to a stop. Steven enjoyed luxury, and the sleek black car with its butter leather seats and blacked-out windows oozed importance and money. Two things my mother always aspired to have.
What a damn match made in heaven the two of them were—the attractive gold digger and the hotshot who wanted a beautiful to warm his bed, grace his arm, and keep his secrets. Not difficult when she had some pretty big secrets of her own she’d like to keep buried.
“Thanks, Edmund,” I said and opened the door before Edmund could. The sight of Carter’s SUV parked outside on the wide driveway caused a whirlwind of anxiety to spin around in my chest. These were emotions I needed to learn to deal with—sooner than later.
Before I lost my gumption, I swung to Edmund. “I left something in Carter’s car last night. Can you wait here while I go retrieve it?” I asked, wanting someone to watch over me even if they had no idea they were.
He gave a curt nod. “Of course.”
I make quick haste to Carter’s Escalade and whipped open the back door. In that single instant, it all came rushing at me. The tight bonds cutting into my wrists. The utter darkness from the blindfold. The smell of Carter’s cologne gagging me, burning my nostrils as stark fear dugs its claws in me.
I closed my eyes, only making it worse.
Snap out of it.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Now again.
A tad steadier, I opened my eyes and glanced over the back seat, over the floor mats, searching for my phone. Nothing. But I knew damn well I had left it in here. With frantic fingers, I peeled back the rubber mats. “God damn it,” I muttered, slamming the door shut.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Edmund asked as I stalked past him.
“Not yet,” I replied and strutted to the side of the house, avoiding the main house and taking the stairs the led up to the balcony that connected to my room.
In and out, I reminded. The less attention I drew to my being here, the better.
I slid the glass doors open and stepped inside my tomb. At least it felt that way, as quiet as a grave. The analogy freaked me out.