Page 123 of Serpentine

“Miles is missing. Taken, my sources say. Of course, the Cobras are on it, and I’m certain they’ll find him, but I wanted to know how you’re holding up because I know Susan is a mess…”

I stand as he trails off, sensing the shift between us. “Fuck Susan, who gives a flying fuck how she feels? She abandoned them, Dad. She doesn’t get to waltz back in and give a fuck about them now. When did he… What happened… Goddamnit…” I drop to a crouch, my hands over my head as my breathing grows ragged, my chest burning as it gets heavy, and I feel as though the weight of the world is sitting on top of it.

“Aella, hey…” Dad’s hand comes down on my shoulder, and even though I want to lean into his comfort, I can’t because my world is crumbling. I almost lost Braxton after he was stabbed, and now I have lost Miles. Just when everything was coming together, just when things were…

I stand, grasping at my chest as I breathe through the panic. “Get the fuck out.”

Moving to my bedroom, I forget myself and begin throwing off my clothes and sliding into jeans and riding boots. Once I’m in a hoodie, my hair up and under the hood, I storm back into the living room and grab my purse.

“Aella, let me drive you wherever you need to go…”

“No.” I stand with the door open, holding it for him to leave. He finally gets the hint, but not before stopping before me and looking at me with sympathetic eyes. “We love him, too, you know? Whatever you need, we’ll be there for you.”

My eyes narrow on him, hate beaming from them. “The fucking audacity of you two is fucking disgusting.”

He winces but doesn’t say another word before moving into the hall. I lock up and run past him, opting for the stairs because I know he’ll choose the elevator.

When I’m finally in the lobby, I run past the doorman, who stands at my commotion.

“Miss, can I help you…”

I push outside, breathing heavily, tears running down my face. “Where are you?” I whisper, rushing down the alleyway to the right side of my apartment building—where a Cobra is usually perched against a bike.

It’s empty.

“Where are you?!” I scream through the night, my heart fracturing under the weight of what’s become of my life.

A knocking sound gets my attention, and a man steps out of the shadows. It takes my eyes a minute to adjust.

“Sully?” I cry, rushing towards him. Forgetting myself, I wrap around him, sobbing into the cold leather of his vest. He holds me close to him, not hesitating to comfort me.

“Take me home?” I plead, sniffling.

I pull back and look up at him. His eyes search mine as if he knows something I don’t—the state Braxton is likely in without his brother and lover beside him—but I can handle what I’m walking into.

Or so I think.

He nods, inclining his head toward his bike, barely visible in the darkness behind him.

Once I’m on, I enclose my arms around him, leaning into his back to use him as a shield from the icy wind.

“I have to get there, Sully. Fast.”

He doesn’t reply or look back, but the speed with which he takes off tells me he understands what I need, even if he can’t hear me ask for it.

I tighten my arms around him in thanks.

It’s not until the red light, when he lets his hand leave the throttle and brushes over mine in support that the tears find me again.

It’s a crushing loss.

I don’t know how they’ve survived it this long.

I only thought I knew what I was walking into. Braxton is in jeans and no shirt, and his ripped body and tattoos are on full display, even though it’s freezing outside.

Instead of ordering search parties or rocking on the floor in his room, he’s working on his broken bike.

“Brax,” I say, voice cracking.

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