Page 72 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

“How did you know?”

twenty-eight

I only wear one leash

brielle

Despite the utterchaos that is going on right now, I’m actually incredibly calm. In fact, it’s my father that seems a bit off kilter at the moment. I study his eyes, the ones that look just like mine, and I look for answers. Something’s off but I don’t know what.

“How did you know I was here?” I don’t offer him lifelines. I just ask and wait. His nostrils flare, his lips part and close and his eyes veer away from me.

He’s going to lie. All the signs are there.

“I followed you here last night,” he says, but even he isn’t sure of his own lie. The way the wordfollowedwavers just a little. It could be imperceptible to them, but I know. I know he’s lying. A stab in the dark, hoping my life is contained between three locations and that he’s precisely speared one of them.

“From my apartment?” I offer, earning me an immediate nod.

“Yes. I followed you here, I just said that.”

I lick my lips and pray to baby Jesus that my guys stay quiet. “So why didn’t you do this last night?” I step even closer to my father. “Didn’t want to be acock block?”

“Brielle,” Aug says softly, not scolding but sparing. As if he doesn’t want me to waste my energy.

“God, why do you have to be so vulgar?” he asks, shaking his head, all disappointed. “I wanted to wait until you had a level head. Evening is no time to argue, not after a long day,” he says, fidgeting in his suit, uncomfortably treading water in his sea of lies.

“So you waited at my apartment until I came home and then you followed me here and came back this morning?” I fold my arms across my chest, internally screaming becauseI have him.

He nods. “I did. Because you keep dodging my calls, Brielle. Seems like you’ve forgotten who pays for this entire operation. Your apartment, the schooling, all of it.” He straightens like these facts give him the backbone to stand over me, judging me, making choices for me. Like the money is his leash.

Only… I only wear one leash, the men who hold it are standing right behind me.

“I told you already,” I say, controlling my tone because I do not want to be like him. I don’t want him to win. And he isn't just here to tear me away, he’s here to win. He’s here to get me to snap to prove to me all the mistakes I’m making. “You ghost me all the time when you’re pissed. Now you’re getting a taste of your own medicine and you don't like it. Well guess what?” I press my finger into his stupid suit. “Too fucking bad.”

“Don’t make a fool of yourself,” he says, laughing.Fucking laughing. “Get in the car, I’ll talk to Mr. Leon, we’ll get you reassigned and move on from this nightmare.”

“Ezra is a personal friend of mine, I’ll see to it that she stays on this mentorship. She’s a greatprotégé, and rather than fight against what she’s good at, perhaps you should focus on a way to understand and accept it.” Aug’s words wrap around me like a hug and Lance loops his arms around my chest, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Aug steps forward, putting a barrier between us and my father.

“She didn’t go home last night. She went to a place around the corner first. So you didn’t follow her here,” Aug says, as a satisfying burn tears through me. “You’re here scolding her, but you’re the dishonest and angry one.”

“She doesn’t belong here with men two times her age! She doesn't belong here! This isn’t right,” he shouts, losing his cool as he unravels completely. Yes, we’re uptight and high strung and yes, dad has lost his cool more times than I can count. But right now, his head endlessly shaking from side to side, hands smoothing down his breast lapels over and over—something is not right.

I pull out of Lance’s arms. “How did you know I was here? And don’t say you followed me. We already debunked that.”

From his pocket, his phone rings. It’s Saturday so I know it’s not the office. My dad is a workhorse all week but the weekends are for him. He plays hard—golf, boating trips, extravagant fundraisers, beach getaways. He never works on the weekend.

His hand flies to his suit jacket where he digs around, struggling to silence the call. His gaze comes back to me. “What does it matter?” He lowers his voice, attempting to soften it to a fatherly tone that he’s never been great at possessing. “Is this really what you want, Brielle? What happened to documentary making and–” He swipes a hand over his forehead, which I now notice is coated in a sheen of sweat. “Isthisreally what you want? How can you get all that you want from life in this abnormal, unusual relationship? Huh? Or are you just here because this is how you’re succeeding at yourmentorship?” he says dripping the last word in a sneer of disgust.

His phone rings again and before he silences it, I make a move for his pocket and snatch it away. His immediate and panicked reach has my heart racing.Why is he being so weird?

Lance and Aug create a barrier as I step back and look down at the phone.

The number isn’t programmed in, but it doesn’t need to be. Because I’ve seen those numbers enough times to know.

I swallow, heat clinging to the back of my eyes as my pulse thuds in my ears, deafening my shock. Almost. “Winnie?”

She told my dad where I was and worse, she told him why I’m there—that I’m with them.

I can’t think of a worse betrayal.

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