Thirteen

Brielle’s POV

The soft click of my bedroom door closing behind me sounded louder than it should have. I leaned against it, pressing my back into the wood as if I could keep everything on the other side from seeping in.

My hands shook. Not from fear. Not even from anger anymore. Just… exhaustion. Bone-deep exhaustion that weighed heavier than anything else.

I dragged in a breath that rattled on its way out. Desmond’s voice still echoed in my head, his excuses, the way his hand hovered between us as if he wanted to touch me but didn’t dare, the guilt in his eyes.

That hand… God. I had pulled away like it would burn me. And yet deep down, part of me had wanted him to hold on.

I stumbled to the bed, still clutching my mug like it was an anchor. The tea had gone cold. My knuckles had turned white around the handle. Slowly, I set it on the nightstand and wrapped my arms around myself instead, holding in the ache that kept spreading through my chest.

Desmond said he was trying to keep me alive.

He said he didn’t mean to hurt me.

He said he cared.

But words like that were cheap when they came wrapped in silence. That was what broke me, the silence. The secrets. The way men like Desmond convinced themselves that hiding the truth was the same as protecting someone.

It wasn’t love. It was control dressed up to look like care.

And maybe he never loved me anyway. Maybe he couldn’t. But if he had, even a little, it would have hurt less than this.

A soft knock pulled me out of my spiral.

I froze. The knock came again, lighter this time.

“Open up, Bree. It’s me,” Mirren’s voice called, unusually gentle.

Relief rushed through me so quickly it left my knees weak. I had texted her last night after my fight with Desmond, after my chest had felt like it was splitting open from carrying it all alone.

He had refused to let her come. But I didn’t care. If he couldn’t give me the truth, he didn’t get to control who I let into my corner.

I pushed off the door and unlocked it. Mirren stepped inside without her usual dramatic entrance, no teasing smirk, no playful jab. Her expression softened the moment she saw me.

“Are you okay?” she asked, scanning me up and down.

A dry laugh slipped from my throat. “Do I look okay?”

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my shoulders sagging.

Mirren followed, sitting beside me. “You look like a ghost. And that’s me being nice.” She tilted her head. “Didn’t know it was this bad.”

I couldn’t stay still. My skin crawled like it didn’t belong to me. I pushed off the bed and started pacing. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re not,” Mirren said calmly. “But you’re allowed to feel that way. After everything…”

“He lied,” I cut in, my voice cracking. “He brought me here, told me I was safe, told me to trust him, and the whole time, he was keeping things from me. Big things. Things that matter.”

Her gaze softened, and I hated the pity in it.

“You still trust me, right?” she asked quietly.

The question hit like a punch. My throat closed. I couldn’t answer.

And that was answer enough.

“You still care about him,” she added. It wasn’t a question.

I pressed my hands to my face. She was right. Even after everything, even after last night when he had pulled me close only to let go like I was poison, I still… God help me, I still cared.

I sank back onto the bed. The tears I had been holding back finally slipped free. “Was I stupid for trusting him?”

Mirren shook her head. “No. You were human.”

Her words cracked something inside me. A single sob escaped before I could stop it.

“I just need the truth,” I whispered hoarsely. “All of it. Who’s after me. What Desmond’s hiding. Why none of this makes sense.”

Mirren reached for my hand, squeezing firmly. “Then we find it. Together.”

My eyes lifted to hers. “You’d really help me?”

A small, real smile tugged at her lips. “Bri, I came all the way out here, got past whatever ridiculous security he has, and called your soldier out to his face. Of course I’m helping.”

A laugh burst out of me, watery but real.

For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.

Mirren leaned back, stretching out on the bed. “You know, when you texted me, I thought you were gonna tell me you finally kissed him.”

I groaned and hurled a pillow at her. “Please. I haven’t even dreamed of him since moving in here. It’s like the closer we are, the farther he feels. The secrets keep pulling him away.”

“Hmmm,” Mirren hummed mischievously. “Sounds like what you need is a girl’s night out.”

I blinked at her. “Have you looked around? We’re in the middle of nowhere. How exactly do you expect that to happen?”

She smirked like she knew something I didn’t.

“It’s already handled. We wait until soldier-boy’s asleep, and then we make our move. I’ve got our getaway driver on speed dial.”

I frowned. “Who could you possibly...”

“Jaxon.”

The name hit me like ice water. My eyes widened. “You told Jaxon where I am?!”

“Not exactly.” She grinned. “I just told him you might need him soon. He was more than eager to help.”

“Mirren!” I yelped, jumping up after her as she darted toward the bathroom.

She squealed, slamming the door in my face. “Don’t be mad! You’ll thank me later.”

I banged my forehead lightly against the door, half laughing, half horrified.

This was going to be one hell of a week.