The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You(80)

Brian ran a hand through his hair then took a step toward me. “You were with him, weren’t you?”

“Him, who?” But I knew he must have been referring to Hudson. That was the who I’d been with after all, and David had known that. But why Brian cared was beyond me.

Brian slammed his fist down on the top of my dresser. “Dammit, Laynie, don’t play games. This is serious.” He took a step toward me, his eyes narrow slits. “Hudson Pierce. Were you with Hudson Pierce?”

“Yes.” I crossed my hands over my chest. “And Jonathon Pierce, for that matter. And Sophia Pierce and Mirabelle Pierce and Chandler Pierce. At their Hampton house. Brian, what is your problem?”

His brows rose almost as high as his voice. “What is my problem? You are my problem. Always. Alayna, I saw you in the society pages—you’re dating him?”

Well, no. But I kept that to myself.

“You can’t date Hudson f*cking Pierce. Do you know who he is? Do you know what he is?”

For the briefest of moments, my chest felt like it might burst. I had no idea how, but Brian knew about Hudson’s games with women somehow and was worried about me. I hadn’t felt concern from him in years. I didn’t realize how much I’d craved it.

Brian continued. “He’s a goddamn giant, is what he is, Alayna. If you f*ck with him—when you f*ck with him—I won’t be able to get you out of it. The Pierces are so big, they’ll squash you like a bug.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” I swallowed, processing what Brian had said. “You’re not concerned for me, you’re worried about…Hudson?”

“Why should I be concerned for you?” He pointed his index finger toward me. “You’re the one with the history of going mental over guys.”

“Get out.” I could only manage a whisper.

“Harassment, drive-bys, breaking and entering, stalking—” He held up a finger for each item he ticked off.

“Get out,” I said, stronger. There were no words for the depths of betrayal I felt, no reason to even defend myself against his accusations because he’d already marked me as guilty without even giving me a trial.

“Were you even invited to the Hamptons?”

“Get the f*ck out!” I screamed. “Get out! Get out! Get. Out!”

He didn’t move. “My name’s on the lease, not yours.”

“Then I’ll get the lease changed. Or I’ll move.” I crossed to the door and opened it for him. “But now I’m telling you, so help me god, if you don’t leave I’ll call the cops and, even if it gets me nowhere, it will at least occupy your life with yet another embarrassing sister incident. So I’m telling you, get the f*ck out, now.”

“I’m done, Alayna.” He raised his hands up in a surrender position. Still he didn’t move.

“Get out!”

This time he stepped toward the door. “I’m leaving, but I’m telling you, I’m done. Do not even think about coming crawling back to me.” He turned back to face me after crossing the threshold. “You’re on your own with this mess.”

I slammed the door in his face.

Brian was out of my life. Out of my life for good.

Maybe because I’d already cried all those tears earlier, or maybe because I’d simply had enough of family members who constantly kept their loved ones down when they needed compassion and support most, but the sigh I let out wasn’t in frustration—it was in relief.





Chapter Twenty-Two


David leaned against his desk and stared at the new brown leather sofa across the room. “Should we move it to the other wall?” It was the fourth time he’d asked since I’d arrived.

Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where the sofa was. The only reason I’d come into the club so early was to have something to occupy my mind. It had been thirty-three hours since I’d left the Hamptons, longer since I’d seen Hudson, and all I wanted to do was buy a plane ticket to Cincinnati and find him, whatever it took.

But another part of me—a very small, but surprisingly solid bud of calm at the center of my being—believed that Hudson would be back. That he’d be back for me. He felt something for me. I knew he did. And maybe that emotion, even if he couldn’t acknowledge it, would be enough to bring him to me. Eventually.

Hopefully.

If I didn’t cling on to that small sliver of hope, I’d fall apart. It was the only thing keeping me from giving into the crazy. That and trying to concentrate on my job.

“It’s fine, David. Leave it.”

“Are you sure? This is your vision, Laynie. Make it work.”

“It works perfectly as is.”

I suspected David’s anxiousness had more to do with me and my mood than couch placement. He crossed to the sofa and sat down. “It’s pretty comfy, too. Check it out.”

Sighing, I tossed my inventory report on the desk and joined him. “Hmm,” I said, settling into the corner. “Not bad.”

But really I was thinking about how the new couch reminded me of the one at the apartment above Hudson’s office. It had been my initial attraction to it when I’d seen it in the catalog. I loved the way it felt masculine with its rich dark color, yet also warm and soft with its curved back and arms.