Page 12 of Unleash You

“I’m looking into it.” He gritted his teeth.

I drank more of Lilly’s brew, doing a bad job of hiding my grin. “Thank you. I really appreciate that. I have a lot of big purchases coming up. You know, for the house.”

“Of course, you do. Derek is going to be floored when he sees what you and I did with his house.”

“I hope so.”

“We’re out of tea. I’ll get us some more. You two kids, stay and visit.” Lilly rose to her feet and headed for the kitchen.

“Cute.”

“What is?” I asked.

“Did you just tell on me?”

I shrugged. “Were you spying on me?”

“It isn’t spying if I’m the executor of your estate. What the hell were you trying to buy with fifteen thousand dollars?”

“Exactly what you think.”

The excited piano notes played in my head, until they turned into a jumble of noises. The notes weren’t that different from all the feelings I had for Wesley. How was it possible for him to look this hot and also be this infuriating?

“Well, now you understand the rules.” His deep voice stirred something in my chest.

“What I understand is that you’re trying to control me.”

“Protect you.”

“What if I need to make a big purchase. This house needs a lot of work, and that’s just my quick assessment from walking from the front door to here.” I leaned forward, and he did the same.

His warm breath brushed my cheek. “If you need something, you come to me.”

“So what? You’re like my new shopping buddy?”

“If that’s what it takes. Day or night.”

He meant it as a threat, but the way I heard it, it was more of a promise. Wesley in this big house, day and night, with me. His presence here wasn’t going to stop me from getting my brother back, but the implication of his words sat heavy at my core.

4

It Didn’t Hurt

Wesley

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Cole?” the gallery assistant asked for the third time in the last eighty minutes.

“I’m still good. Thanks.” I glanced at my watch. No, we were getting closer to two hours.

What the hell was I thinking? Why did I think it would be a good idea to join Anabelle on an art shopping spree? After Anabelle’s attempt at hiring a mercenary to escort her to Venezuela last night, I told myself the only way to keep her safe was to stay with her as much as possible.

If my brother Zack were here, he would have called bullshit on me from the beginning. Since he wasn’t due to come home until tomorrow, I was left to come to my senses on my own. Tailing Anabelle to keep her safe wasn’t going to stop her from going after Charlie. Truth was, I wanted to spend time with her. I missed her letters. The longer I stayed here, the more I wanted to hold her and talk the way we used to.

I trailed behind her as she moved from one piece to the next, and then circled back around to the first one. She favored the paintings and drawings that worked with chiaroscuro, creating images out of shadows and light. Anabelle’s childhood had turned dark when her parents died, but she managed to overcome it and find her light again. That was how she looked to me now, strolling along the dim-lit corridor. Anabelle was her own sun.

Somewhere on the opposite end of the gallery, an electric skill saw rumbled at intervals. The owner had mentioned they did all their framing on site. I leaned my shoulder on the wall and let my gaze linger on Anabelle’s form while the continuous roar of the machine chipped away at my memories. The jungle and guns blazing surrounded me in an instant.

Every time I let my guard down, those images bombarded me. Charlie and Jack getting shot was the movie playing on repeat in my head. I couldn’t save them. What was the point? All our training, all our talk of doing good, all the things we left behind. Nothing changed. The idea that I didn’t deserve to be here gnawed at me constantly.

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