Exposed (VIP 4)

Scottie raises his glass. “Hear, hear.”

Our friends follow suit, all of them wearing various expressions of fierce protectiveness and simmering rage.

Under the table, a touch, light as butterfly wings, flits along my outer thigh, snagging the whole of my attention. Without looking her way, I let my hand fall beneath the tabletop and find Brenna’s. Hers is cold and clammy. Heart clenching, I rest mine on top of her hand, holding it firmly against my thigh where she’ll be warm.

“And who are you, again?” Neil studies me as if I’ve crawled out from under the floorboards.

“The drummer,” Patricia says in an undertone that implies, What else should you expect from such a low creature?

Whip snickers under his breath, but I know he’s far from amused. We share a quick look of perfect understanding. If they weren’t Brenna’s parents, we’d have marched them out of here an hour ago.

“The bassist, ma’am. I also go by Degenerate Number One.”

Jax coughs into his napkin. And Neil reddens.

All right, it was a cheap shot. I need to reel it in for Brenna’s sake, no matter how good it feels to knock her shit parents down a peg. She doesn’t look my way, but under the table, her fingers spread over my thigh. She rubs me just once, a tiny movement that I feel along the whole of my side.

Patricia flushes a deep berry that’s uncomfortably similar to the way Brenna blushes. “I never implied you weren’t intelligent, Brenna. Or capable. That is the point. You could do so much better.”

Brenna’s hand slips away from me, and she rests her fist on the table. “I honestly cannot conceive of anyone better than these people, Mother.”

“Willfully stubborn,” Neil remarks, taking another bite of his beef. “Blinded by fame and excess. Mark my words, young lady. One day you’ll regret it. You’ll be alone and—”

“Oh, leave off, Neil,” Xander snaps. “Your issue isn’t with Brenna or Rye. If you want to have a go at me, wait for after dinner. I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you. But you’re putting everyone off their roast.”

“So superior, Xander. In your Italian loafers, playing country lord of the manor.”

“Well, one ought to wear the proper footwear when lording,” Xander intones.

I’ve always liked Xander.

Neil turns redder. “And this farce of a birthday celebration. Just one big, happy family, eh?”

Xander’s eyes narrow, and I swear Isabella flinches. Neil sees her discomfort too.

“Tell me,” Neil says, getting his teeth into it. “What are we to raise our glasses to? Your birthday or your divorce?”

And that is when Killian loses his shit.

“What the fuck?”

“Goddamn it, Neil,” Xander shouts.

Everything falls apart then. Neil and Xander start yelling at each other. Killian turns to his mom, who begins to cry. Chairs are pushed back, the room clearing out in a hurry. And all the while, Brenna sits cool as carved ice, her eyes on the plate before her.

I sit by her side, unwilling to leave. When a door slams, she flinches, blinking as though coming out of a trance.

“Hey,” I say softly. “You okay?”

Brenna pulls in an audible breath. Her whisky eyes are overbright, glimmering at the corners. “Yes. Thank you, though, for saying all that. It was unnecessary but kind.”

“Kind? Bren, this is me. You don’t have to pretend. If you’re hurting, tell me. I’m here.”

Her lips purse into a crimson-red line. “Did you see Isabella? She was so upset.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Frankly, Brenna’s dad could do with a good kick in the ass. But I refrain from mentioning that bit.

“I mean, I know their relationship wasn’t perfect.” Brenna snorts delicately, the sound echoing in the vast, empty room. “Obviously not, if she tried to kiss you.”

Wincing, I glance around; it would do no good for that to get out now. But all is quiet, and Brenna keeps talking with methodical woodenness. “But that was years ago, and she always seemed so in love with Uncle Xander.”

“Bren, honey, it’s hard to tell what goes on between a couple behind closed doors.” I shove away thoughts of my own cheating dad as Brenna sighs, a sad, tiny sound.

“I know. And it was naive of me to assume, but I had hoped they worked their issues out. I don’t know…I just wanted to believe they were happy.”

With another sigh, she pushes back from the table and rises with the stiffness of old straw. I follow, pulling her chair back for her.

“She was so sad, Rye.”

“I know, Berry.”

“Crazy thing is, she’s been more of a mom to me than my own.”

My heart cracks at the hollow sadness in Brenna’s eyes.

“Bren…” I reach to take her arm, but she shrugs me off.

“No. I can’t right now.”

Stung, my hand drops. “I’m sorry. I only wanted to…” Comfort you. Hold you. “Help.”

“You can’t. Not with this.” Distracted, she glances over her shoulder to where Killian and Isabella have walked off. “I need to be with my family.”