Page 111 of Flame
Foxx looks at me like he wants me to give him a reason to stay here. Instead, I smile and shoo him across the yard.
“Go. Help your mom,” I say. “I’ll just make myself at home.”
He grins. “Well, you should because itisyour home.”
“Excellent point.”
“I’ll be back.”
“Take your time,” I say, calling after him.
I grab my suitcase and go inside.
Home, sweet home.
It feels like longer than three days since I was here.So much has happened. When we left for our honeymoon, I had no idea I’d come back feeling like I’m actually married. That it would be safe to verbalize my feelings.
That Foxx would love me back.
I stand at the kitchen counter and imagine myself cooking dinner for me and Foxx. I can hear our future children laughing and playing at my feet while I do dishes. I can see little bowls of candy on the island like my grandma used to have and having my family over for holiday dinners.
I shake off the reminder that I have to talk to them about leaving Nashville and potentially Brewer Group. I have faith that they’ll understand.Will they be surprised? Probably. But they’ll accept that I need to do what makes me happy. And Foxx makes me happy.I also know they’ll trust my decisions because they’ve always had my back. They’ve always trusted me.
Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head. “I need a nap.” I laugh as I pass through the kitchen into the living room. “Until Foxx gets back.”
“Hello, Bianca.”
I freeze in place. My blood runs ice cold at the sound of my father’s voice.
What the hell is happening?How did he get in here?
I turn slowly toward the window and find my dad sitting in a chair by the fireplace with a file of some sort in his hands.
“Have something you want to tell me?” he asks, getting to his feet.
“Why are you here?” I take a step back, my hands shaking. “How did you get in here?”
He paces toward me, unfazed. “You’re going to stay very calm and walk back into the kitchen and lock the door. Understood?”
“Dad …”
He stalks toward me like a predator.And I am his prey.
I want to scream for Foxx—to scream for help. But I know Foxx will come. He’s probably on his way back already.
“Lock the door, Bianca,” Dad booms as the door comes into view. “I don’t want to hurt you, little girl, but I will if you leave me no choice.”
“What are you doing?” I fiddle with the lock until it latches.Surely, Foxx has his keys with him. Or at least another way into the house.“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you are going to do two good deeds today.” He shoves a gun in my side. I gasp. “Lucky you.”
His eyes are wild like an animal. He smells faintly of perspiration and whiskey. His clothes are wrinkled, and his eyes sunken in.He’s not the charming Reid Brewer I remember.
I try to keep my composure—not to let him see me scared. It’s a rule he drilled into my head for years and years.Don’t let them see you squirm.
The barrel of the handgun is sharp against my ribs. He guides me into the living room and forces me to sit in the chair he just occupied.
“Daddy,” I say, trying to appeal to the side of him that I think I once knew. “What are you doing?”
