Fifteen

Brielle’s POV

“You’re really sure about this?” I asked Mirren for maybe the tenth time that day. My voice

was low, but the tension threading through it was obvious. We’d spent all afternoon

whispering, sketching out ways to slip past Desmond’s fortress of a mansion.

Mirren had been calm the whole time, like this was some prank instead of a dangerous

escape. She was convinced that letting Desmond overhear Jaxon’s name was part of the

plan, her way of distracting him into thinking he’d caught on when really, he had no idea

what we were building under his nose.

She smirked now as we padded down the long hallway toward Desmond’s study. “Relax,

Brie. It’s going to work. Just stick to the story.”

The mahogany door loomed large in front of us. I lifted my hand and knocked softly.

“Come in,” his voice rumbled from the other side.

I pushed the door open, my nerves coiled tight. Desmond was behind the heavy desk, head

bent over files. When he looked up, his eyes narrowed, sharp and suspicious like he could

already sense something was off.

Mirren stepped in behind me, arms crossed, her expression unusually serious. Normally,

she’d be grinning or rolling her eyes at him. Tonight, her face was carved in stone.

Desmond leaned back slightly in his chair. “Can I help you?” His tone was flat, laced with

leftover irritation from this morning’s standoff.

I met his gaze squarely. “We need tampons.”

The pen in his hand stilled. “What?”

“We’re out,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I checked everywhere. Unless you’ve got a

stash hidden behind your weapons, we need to go buy some.”

Beside me, Mirren nodded, deadpan. “And I have cramps. Like, bad ones.

Murder-someone-and-blame-it-on-hormones level bad.”

Desmond’s brows shot up, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and

frustration. “Both of you. At the same time. At ten o’clock at night.”

Mirren arched a brow. “Ever heard of cycles syncing? It’s a thing. Unless you want a

massacre in your spotless house, soldier, you’ll drive us to the store.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose like we were giving him the worst headache of his life.

“Fine. I’ll go get them.”

“No,” I cut in quickly. “We’ll go with you. You don’t even know there are different types,

different flows...”

He raised a hand sharply. “Stop. Please. Spare me the details.” He exhaled heavily, his jaw

working as he thought. “We’ll all go. But no funny business. Not one wrong move. You know

there are threats everywhere.”

I pressed a hand to my stomach, feigning irritation. “Desmond, I’m not in the mood for an

argument. Just take us. In and out.”

His gaze bounced between us. Suspicion still lingered in his eyes, but I saw something else

too: guilt. He didn’t trust Mirren. He barely trusted me. But this request seemed harmless

enough.

“Fine,” he muttered, standing. “But I’m going inside with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Mirren and I said in unison.

His brow lifted.

I forced my voice to stay calm. “No offense, but that’s… weird. Just wait in the car.”

His stare lingered on me for a long, hard second. “If you try anything...”

“It’s tampons, not a jailbreak,” Mirren whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

But she wasn’t wrong.

Minutes later, the three of us walked out to the SUV. Mirren and I wore oversized shirts and

sweatpants, our hair tied back, purses slung casually on our shoulders. To Desmond, it

probably looked like two tired women dragging themselves to a late-night errand.

To us, it was freedom disguised as inconvenience.

“Ready?” he asked gruffly once we reached the car.

We nodded, sliding into the backseat. Mirren and I exchanged a small glance, trying to

smother our grins. Our plan had cleared its first hurdle.

As the car pulled away from the house, my pulse quickened. Every mile we put between

ourselves and that mansion felt like stolen air, sharp and exhilarating.

He drove us into a nearby town, headlights slicing through the dark. After a few minutes, he

parked in front of a small convenience store. The kind of place Mirren had picked

deliberately, quiet, unassuming, and outside the reach of most of Desmond’s men.

“We’ll be five minutes,” I told him as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

“You have three,” he countered without looking at me, eyes glued to the glass doors of the

shop.

Mirren rolled her eyes dramatically. “What are you going to do, Des? Storm in and ask what

brand we need?”

He didn’t answer.

Inside, the fluorescent lights felt harsh after the dark ride. Mirren grabbed my arm, steering

me straight toward the feminine aisle.

“Grab something... anything,” she whispered. “We can’t look too eager.”

I picked up a box of tampons at random, tossing in a bar of chocolate for good measure.

Mirren grabbed a bottle of water and lip gloss.

Then her phone buzzed in her pocket.

I looked at her sharply. “Is that him?”

She smirked, eyes dancing. “Jaxon’s waiting two blocks over.”

My heart kicked hard in my chest. “You’re sure about this?”

She held out her fist. “Trust me.”

I bumped it with mine, though my hand shook slightly.

We paid in cash, keeping our heads down. Through the front window, I could still see

Desmond’s broad frame in the SUV, gaze locked on the entrance like a hawk. Watching.

Waiting.

He didn’t notice when we slipped through the side exit.

The cool night air hit me like a rush of adrenaline.

Out of sight.

Out of reach.

We jogged through the alley, my chest pounding. At the far end, Jaxon’s car came into view.

Relief washed over me when he stepped out, pulling the back door open with a grin.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

Mirren slid in first, tossing her purse into the backseat. “Blame Desmond’s hawk eyes. That

man is something else.”

I climbed in after her, my pulse thrumming in my ears. “Drive. Now.”

Jaxon didn’t hesitate. He slammed the door shut and hit the gas, tires crunching against

gravel as we sped onto the main road.

I twisted in my seat, watching the store shrink in the distance. The SUV was still parked out

front, still unmoving. He hadn’t realized we were gone. Not yet.

But he would.

Oh, God, he would.

“You okay?” Jaxon asked, glancing at me briefly in the rearview mirror.

I nodded quickly. “For now.”

Mirren reached forward and flicked on the radio. Music exploded from the speakers, loud,

upbeat, reckless. She started laughing, the sound sharp and wild, and leaned against me.

“We did it, Brie. We’re out. Tonight, we live.”

I laughed too, though the sound caught in my throat. My body was buzzing with adrenaline,

my chest aching with something heavier.

Desmond’s face flashed in my mind, the dark intensity of his stare, the way his voice

dropped whenever fear edged into it, the way his jaw tightened when he held back words he

refused to say.

I knew he’d be furious. I knew I’d pay for this later, one way or another.

But right now? Right now, I didn’t care.

Right now, I was breathing free air.

And that was enough.