Page 40 of The Sexy Ex's Brother
His hand drifts toward his coat pocket.
Sienna raises the pepper spray in a flash. “Don’t.”
He freezes. For a second, something flickers across his face, amusement? Disbelief? Then it hardens into something else.
“You think that little canister’s going to stop what’s coming?” he murmurs. “You think you’re safe just because you made it out the door?”
His eyes flick to me. “You chose the wrong brother, Ivy. The clean one. The golden one. The one with more secrets than I ever had.”
My breath stops.
“You don’t even know what you’re protecting.”
His voice drops to a whisper. “But I do.”
He steps back and lets us go. And that’s what scares me most, that he wanted us to leave. Like the real damage hasn’t even started.
***
By the time we reach Graham’s apartment, I can’t feel my fingers. The keys jangle in my hand. My mouth is dry. I move through the space like a ghost, my pulse louder than the ambient city noise seeping in from the windows.
I sit down at the kitchen counter. Write the note in one shot:Jack, I don’t know how else to do this. Things aren’t safe right now—not for me, and not for you if you keep trying to fix it. Don’t look for me. Not yet. I know you will anyway. I love you. —Ivy
I fold it once. I walk across the hall in socked feet. I stop in front of Jack’s door. My hand hovers for a moment, but I don’t knock. I can’t. Instead, I crouch, the note trembling in my hand. The folded paper feels heavier than it should, ink and truth and goodbye crammed into a few short lines. I press my fingertips to the smooth wood, just for a second.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For leaving this way. For not giving you a chance to talk me out of it.”
I slide the note beneath the door, slow and careful, until it vanishes into the space between us. There’s a lump in my throat that refuses to dissolve. I stay there for one more second, then two. Waiting for something impossible, his voice, his footsteps, his arms around me saying don’t go, but there’s only silence.
Only the soft click of the elevator arriving down the hall. I turn. Sienna’s waiting in the open doorway to Graham’s apartment, her coat already on, jaw set like stone.
“You good?” she asks, even though we both know I’m not.
“No,” I say. “But I will be.”
She nods and hands me the keys. “Drive fast. But smart.”
I manage a small smile. “Always.”
We don’t say anything else as we head down the corridor. The city hums faintly below us, muffled and relentless. I shoulder my bag. Sienna is already scanning the hallway, checking corners. She’s switched to crisis mode, and honestly? I need that. I need her.
Before we reach the elevator, I stop.
“I need to disappear,” I say quietly. “But not just for me.”
“I know,” she says without hesitation.
“If Derek makes a move on Jack…”
“He won’t,” she replies. “Because we’re going to stop him.”
“I don’t want to ask you…”
“You’re not,” she says firmly. “I’m coming.”
I blink. “You are?”
She pulls her scarf tighter. “I’ve got a friend upstate. House is empty. She’s glacier-hiking or possibly having a midlife crisis in a yurt. Either way, she’s off the grid. No neighbors. No cell towers. We go this afternoon.”
