Page 111 of Release Me

My curt answer signals my lack of interest in following that thread of conversation, but Bianca refuses to acknowledge it.

“Because of Beau?” Her brows pull together in a tight line. “Is that really necessary?”

I pick up my menu and pray for patience even though I know it’s not something I have a lot of lately. “The last time we saw each other, you told me he was planning to kill me, so yeah, I think it’s necessary.”

“Nyla, no one even knows where he is. What are you going to do? Have security follow you around until the end of your days.”

The last thing I want is to live out the rest of my life with Russ, Jared, Enzo and Tyler watching my every move, but if I need to do so to keep myself and my family safe then that’s what I’ll do.

“If I need to.”

“Must be nice to have money to blow like that.”

I slam my menu down a bit more forcefully than I intended, causing the glasses on the table to shake. Bianca’s eyes stretch wide, and I remind myself to play nice, to be patient, so I can get the information I need from her and get the hell on.

“You look good, B,” I say, the smile on my face as fake as the compliment. “I’m so glad we were able to get together.”

“Me too. Although, I was surprised when you texted and let me know you were in LA.”

My response is interrupted by the appearance of our server, and we pause the conversation just long enough to order food and drinks. Once we’re alone again, Bianca turns expectant eyes on me. She’s waiting for an explanation, for a reason why I’ve had her number for weeks now, but only just chose to use it today. Since she already knows I have an ulterior motive, I don’t see the point in dancing around it.

“I had a question to ask you.”

“That couldn’t be asked over the phone?”

“I wanted to look you in your eyes when you answered it.”

She crosses her arms and sits back in her seat. “Okay, shoot.”

I study her defensive posture and immediately decide that there’s another, more pressing, question I need to ask her now. “Well, actually, I have two questions.”

Bianca arches a brow, and I can tell she knows exactly what I’m going to ask her first. “Go ahead and ask, Nyla.”

“Have you told anyone about me being in New Haven?”

Only a few seconds pass by between my question and her answer, but it feels like longer. It feels like an eternity to wait to find out if my safety and my new life have been compromised by a woman I used to trust.

“No. I haven’t told anyone, but what you really meant to ask if is if I’ve told Beau, right?” Again, there’s no point in lying, so I nod. Bianca’s eyes narrow like she’s offended that I don’t trust her. “I told you I don’t know where Beau is. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in months about anything, but especially not about you.”

Relief washes over me, reminding me that I still care about Bianca. That it still means something to know that I can count on her to keep my secrets and, sometimes, tell me the truth, which she’s doing right now. I know it. Just like I know that the flowers that led to me being exiled from my home came from Beau even though no one can prove it. Bianca’s honesty should be comforting, but it unsettles me even more because it adds another layer of confusion to the Beau in New Haven situation.

Because it makes me wonder who could have given him the information that resulted in the taunting floral arrangement and why sending them is all he’s done to make his reemergence in my life known.

“What’s your other question?” Bianca asks, pulling me out of my reverie just as our server arrives with our food. I don’t have an appetite anymore, and I don’t know whether to contribute it to the baby, the confusion around Beau or the fact that I’m about to have to repeat the horrific allegations Vince launched at me during Thanksgiving.

I push my plate away from me and pick up my glass to take a sip of water. “Do you remember us ever working a Christmas party at a mansion in Hidden Hills?”

She squints into the bowl of pasta in front of her, and I see the wheels spinning in her brain. Bianca has an excellent memory, so it doesn’t take long for the flicker of recognition to show in her eyes.

“Yeah, it was this huge place on Round Meadow Road a few years ago, right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Bianca studies my face as the details of the night that have alluded me for days come to her easily. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense considering how high you were.”

You were on more shit than I was, but we had a good time.

Vince’s words echo in my head, and I shudder, taking Bianca’s assessment of my condition as confirmation of what he said. I never got high willingly. Beau always drugged me to force me to cooperate when we were going to parties, which means I never knew what I was taking or how much. The fact that I can’t remember this night at all, means I must have been really bad off.

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