Twenty

Her bedroom is empty. A flood of relief sweeps over me, a smile curls my lips. At least she has the good sense to keep T away from there. I jog down the stairs to my next destination—her home office. Making my way into the corridor, I pass through doors and voices from the third door have me pausing to listen. 

A man is inside. He says something to make her laugh, I dig my nails into my palm and scoff. I raise my hand to knock but decide against it. After one glance down the empty corridor, I push the door open. 

El jumps, her seat clatters to the floor and she smoothens the front of her gown. “Bran... Brandon. Hi.” 

Barely looking her way, I fix a pointed stare at her guest. T is more coordinated, too relaxed for a visitor. He stands and turns slowly to meet my gaze, no hint of fear in the smile he offers me. I give the mocha skinned man a onceover. I am a foot taller, bulkier too, maybe I will break his nose to teach him to sta