Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(80)

Reinhold breathed deeply. With a brief tap of his gavel, “I dismiss your case as time served. You’re free to go, Miss Price.” Reinhold stood and the rest of the courtroom followed suit. He made a move to go but stopped himself. “Before I leave, Miss Price” he said, turning toward me, “know this, yours is the most satisfying punishment I’ve ever given.” He inclined his head out of respect and I nodded once in return.

When Reinhold was gone, I turned, ready to run Ian’s direction. I sprinted around the table, pushing chairs out of my way, my heart jumping into my throat without ever taking my stare off his heavenly face.

Everyone rushed me at once, congratulating me and attempting to hug me. Spencer bombarded me, kissing my cheek, and picking me up. I struggled to get down, still staring Ian’s direction. Finally, he made brief eye contact before walking through the double doors and out of my eyesight.

I broke free and ran for him.

“Ian! Ian!” I kept shouting before a passing officer ordered me quiet.

I ran the length of the corridor but he was nowhere to be found. I pressed the elevator button for the first floor but was too impatient watching it slowly ascend for me so I ripped open the fire exit door and ran the four flights to the ground floor. I was panting when I burst from the door on that floor. My eyes searched for him throughout the marble lobby. He wasn’t there. I rushed to the wide, wood entrance doors and out onto the descending steps. I discovered him just as he entered a taxi. I sprinted down the steps calling out his name and waving my arms over my head but he was gone. My disappointment was crushing. I fell hard to the bottom of the steps and sobbed into my hands.

“Why did he just take off like that?” Spencer asked coolly beside me, looking the direction he’d fled. I peered up at him. His hands rested in his pockets.

“Because he thought I betrayed him,” I said.

He tore his gaze away from the street and observed me below him. “You didn’t?” he asked.

“No, I-I was blackmailed.”

“Scandalous,” he said, bending to sit beside me. He leaned back on his elbows. He looked back out toward the street, avoiding eye contact. “You’re in love with him,” he stated as fact.

“Yes.”

Spencer sighed, turning toward me. “Then what the hell are you doing here, Sophie Price?”

“I don’t know where he’s staying,” I explained.

“And when has something as small as that ever stopped a whirlwind force like you, girl?”

I smiled at him.

“Never,” I told him truthfully. His smile faltered a bit. “I’m sorry, Spence.”

He shook his head. “Don’t, babe,” he said, winking. “They’re all lined up. They’re waiting for me as we speak,” he said, extending his arm.

He teased but the sadness there troubled me. I loved Spence so much but knew I couldn't say as much, that it would be cruel. So I just smiled at him, shoving my shoulder into his.

He picked himself up and dusted the back of his pants off. I stood and threw my arms around him. “Sophie Price, you’ll be the one that got away, I’m afraid,” he spoke into my ear. He pulled away. “You know how to solve that problem?” he joshed. I shook my head no. “With bigger problems.”

He kissed my cheek and stalked off, twirling his keys in his hand and whistling as he made his way to his car.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT



I knocked twice but there was no answer.



Impatient, I headed back down to Ian’s lobby.

“Excuse me,” I told the concierge, “but can you check to see if a guest named Ian Aberdeen is still here?”

“Of course, miss.” His fingers cracked the keys of his keyboard. “I’m sorry but Mister Aberdeen has checked out.”

My heart raced. “Thank you,” I told him before hauling back out to my car, hopping in and racing toward home.

I dialed my cell.

“Pemmy?”

“Yes, dear? Fantastic job today in court,” he said. “I was just telling your father so.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I-Pemmy, listen, I need you to do me a favor.” I weaved between two semis, almost clipping one. No wonder you aren’t supposed to talk or text while driving. “Can you find out if Ian is flying back out tonight?”

He sighed. “Come home first, your father needs to talk with you.”

“Pemmy!” I yelled, exasperated. “Please, Pemmy, can you just check for me?”

“Come home, love. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

“Thank you!” I said, pressing end and tossing the phone on the passenger seat.

Fifteen minutes later, I whipped my car into my parents’ drive and pulled into my garage space. I turned off the ignition, attempted to get out but realized I’d left my phone. I bent back in to retrieve it.

“You’re wealthy,” I heard behind me, staying me in place.

My mouth instantly went dry, my hands trembled, my breathing labored. I climbed out of my car and shut the door, leaning against the frame.

“No, my parents are wealthy,” I told him, mimicking what he’d told me outside his own home in Cape Town.

He smiled at me. “I see.”