Wherever It Leads(77)

“We don’t know if it’s from the video being released or . . . something else.”

“No . . .” I can hear what she’s saying without saying it. My stomach drops to my feet. “No, Mom. It’s not that. It’s something else.”

Exchanging a worried glance with Fenton, I head to the large windows. I watch the sea roll in and out and try to match my breathing to the regularity.

“I hope.” Her voice breaks. “Just pray, sweetheart.”

“I pray all the time.” A door bangs closed and I wheel around. Fenton is gone. It’s unlike him to walk away like that and to nearly slam the door is odd. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong with him too.

“Is everything okay?” Mom asks. “I can hear the stress in your voice, honey. I know you’ve been put on the back burner so much with this whole thing and I feel terrible about that. I just can’t—”

“Mom. No. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I do. You’re my daughter.”

I smile. “I am. Now go take care of my dad and tell Aunt Donna hi. I have some things I need to do today, okay?”

“I will. I love you, too, Brynne.”

“Love you, Mom.”

Clicking the phone off, I hold it to my chest and try to get myself together. Taking a few cleansing breaths, I head to the door and knock gently.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he says.

I open the door and step inside. He’s standing over his briefcase and I hear it click as the door shuts behind me. He turns to face me, his features creased.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “Did something happen?”

He shakes his head warily. “I’m fine. How are you, rudo?”

“That was my mother,” I say finally. “More bad news from Africa.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“There’s been an increase in chatter from Nekuti.”

He studies me for a long minute. “Don’t panic. It could mean a million different things.”

I pace across the room, not having a destination in mind, but needing to move. To think. “I suppose, but right after the video? I really have a bad feeling. They said in the video they would be making demands, which we know the government won’t do anything about. What if . . .” My voice cracks.

I look at Fenton, dressed for the day we had planned. He’s in jeans, sneakers, and a plain grey t-shirt that matches his eyes. He could have walked straight off the pages of a magazine, all casual sophistication. Yet the look on his face tells a completely different story, one I’m not sure about.

“You can ‘what if‘ yourself till the cows come home, Brynne,” he gulps. “The fact is, you can play those games and never know anything for sure. You just have to believe the best.”

Fenton starts to turn away but pauses, seemingly torn about what to do. I can’t offer him any advice because I don’t know what to do with myself. I just watch the uneasiness, the apprehension, wash over his face before he gives a subtle nod and turns away.

He leaves the room and I watch him walk into his office on the other side of the living room, a room I was in only briefly this morning. I hear a few drawers slide open and shut, keys jingling, before he marches back into the master. His hands are to his side, his fists closed. His features are on lockdown and I can’t read what he’s thinking.

He makes a beeline for me like a man on a mission, stopping a few steps in front of me.

“I want you to have this,” he breathes, extending a hand towards me and dropping a bundle of metal into my hand.

Holding it in my palm, I pick it up with the other. It falls, a delicate gold chain with the head of an elephant on the end. It’s small, so small I can’t imagine crafting the intricate design. It’s smooth and cool, and when I look up to Fenton, I see he’s holding his breath.

“Fenton?”

He forces a swallow, his brows pulling together. “It was my mother’s.”

Gasping, my hand trembles. “I can’t take this.” I try to put it back in his hand, but he steps back and out of reach. “Fenton, I can’t take this. It’s beautiful and I’m honored you’d want to give it to me, but I can’t. Really . . .”

“I want you to have it.”

“But why?”

He looks at the floor, his sneakers shuffling around before he speaks. “Elephants represent strength and loyalty. My mother would wear that necklace before she would go into a meeting and was unsure about the outcome or when she felt beaten down by the world. She would touch the emblem and say it reminded her to be loyal to what she believed in. I actually kept that in my pocket for a few months after she passed away.” His eyes shine as he draws them to mine. “And I want you to have it.”

I close the distance between us quickly and wrap my arms around his waist, the necklace secured safely in my hand. There’s so much I want to say, but the lump in my throat keeps all words away. We just stand in the middle of the room and hold each other, in a way, letting each other know we’re here together. That right now, liking each other is enough.

By the time I pull away, something has passed between us and when I look at him again, he’s still the handsome cashmere I know him to be, but he’s something else. Something deeper, something more intimate, something more . . . important.