Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

The hurt side joined up with the anger and let out a horrible pang.

The pang that told me I was all alone in my quests in this world, just like usual. That I had a sister who needed me to be strong and support her, just like usual. That nobody was going to step in and offer me anything like this kind of cash in the next hundred years, and I’d be stupid not to take it, even if it wasn’t dished out by the most incredible man I’d ever been graced with in my life, even if he was an utter asshole.

“I’ll finish up my contract,” I said, and my words sounded way more solid than I expected.

“Good for you,” she told me. “You get back to regular life with that kind of bank balance, you’ll thank yourself that you did.”

“And what about you?” I pushed. “You’re really thinking this is another contract on top of your last one that will pay out well?”

“I have to,” she said. “They’ve offered and I’ve accepted. Might be shit scary here, but so was last time and that one came out good. At least I won’t be craving more of these guys once they let me go. Not a chance.”

Her smile spoke a thousand words as she stared at my discomfort. My infatuation or love or want or whatever the hell it really was must have been so ridiculously obvious it was embarrassing.

“Like I said,” she carried on. “Forget him. Fulfil your contract and get out to your sister. You’ll be alright. The two of you can run far and start a whole new world and forget about this whole sorry mess and everything it stood for.”

“That’s what you’re going to do?” I asked. “You and Carolyn? You going to turn back up to her and sweep her away to a whole new world when this part finishes up?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

It did.

The plan sounded good all round.

“Alright,” I said. “We do it. We stay as professional as we can and do whatever’s owed, and at the end we get out of this place and make a whole new world with our amazing sisters. Job done. Finished. Over.”

“And in the meantime we keep each other sane whenever we can,” she added. “I feel better already having you here.”

I couldn’t deny it either. Having her there with me was exactly what I needed, Brandon Grant be screwed.

I was feeling pretty confident, pressed tight to Rebecca as we surveyed the outside, both of us seemingly set on a road through the darkness. I was feeling pretty confident at the thought I could manage whatever was thrown at me, just the same rough contract with different instigators.

I was feeling pretty confident with the whole lot of it – until the key sounded loud in the door.

Mr Sinister looked even more of a wolf after blood than he did the night before as he stepped inside.

“It’s time to become more acquainted, Miss Emmerson,” he said.Chapter SixBrandonGetting team Grant briefed up took fucking hours. Some of it was easy enough. Speculating with my brother on the various options through this chaos was a conversation that flowed easily.

Trying to share the depths of my true desires for another living being did anything but flow easily.

My affection for Paige Emmerson jammed in my throat like a dry boiled sweet, not wanting to move either up or down my gullet. It hovered fat and wide, my guts hoping to spill the truth up and out.

“Just spit it out,” Eric repeated continuously. “You really want her, don’t you? Is this a love thing? Like a real squishy true fucking love thing?”

“Like there is a real squishy true fucking love thing,” I repeated continuously in return. “I care for her. That’s as far as I can proclaim.”

“Proclaim?”

I should have hated the smile on his face at my uncharacteristic awkwardness, but I didn’t. It made me grin the strangest grin in response, and again I felt it. The night turned to morning with two brothers seated at opposite sides of a dining room table, leaning in towards each other to discuss options as the hours ticked by, and we were different. Just as life was proving to be different all round in light of sweet little Miss Emmerson appearing in the picture, life between Eric and I was proving to take a sharp turn towards brotherly solidarity alongside it.

“Seriously,” he said. “Just say you fucking love her. Say you love her and get it out in the open and out of your system. I reckon you’ll feel better for it.”

I wasn’t nearly so sure.

“Drake is committed to the very highest levels of client delivery,” I said, changing the subject. “Whatever we do to unravel his actions is going to turn dramatic. He won’t give up power easily, I hope you’re ready for that.”