Page 67 of His to Possess
My phone fell silent, only to start ringing again moments later. Alain's persistence was a stark reminder of the ticking clock. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to center myself. The panic subsided, replaced by a grim determination.
With a resigned sigh, I stood up, my decision made. I knew what I had to do. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I needed to do to survive. To fight. I picked up my phone, myfinger hovering over Alain's name. This was it. No turning back now.
I answered the call, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "Alain," I said, "We need to talk."
Chapter 23
Rex
I sat in the shadows of the Mirage's elite lounge, watching the sea of bodies undulate below. The pulsing bass reverberated through my chest, an echo of my own erratic heartbeat. I took another sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down my throat. It was my third glass, but the numbness I craved remained elusive.
A blonde approached, her perfume cloying as she leaned in close. Her lips brushed my ear, whispering promises that once would have thrilled me. Now, they left me cold. I kissed her anyway, my hands moving mechanically over her curves. It was a poor imitation of desire, a desperate attempt to reclaim the rush that had once come so easily.
But every touch, every taste, only served as a stark reminder of what was missing. Of whom was missing. Laurel. Her scent, her smile, the way her body had responded to mine, it was all etched into my mind like a brand. I couldn't escape it, no matter how hard I tried.
I drained my glass, signaling for another. The blonde moved on, sensing my disinterest. Good. I was in no mood for company, especially not the vapid, sycophantic kind that usually swarmed around me in places like this.
Hours passed, and I was surrounded by beauty and excess. Yet I had never felt more alone. The realization hit me like a physical blow—I was losing my grip. On reality, on my carefully cultivated control. Everything I had worked so hard to build was slipping through my fingers.
Rage bubbled up inside me, mixing with a despair I hadn't felt in years. I was Rex Compton. I didn't lose control. I didn't feel this… this weakness. But here I was, drowning in emotions I couldn't name, let alone master.
I noticed a familiar face entering the lounge, and my blood instantly boiled. Colton's trademark grin was plastered across his face like a moron as he sauntered in, Remy and Nolan close behind. My eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as I saw my so-called friends approaching.
"How the fuck did you know I was here?" I snarled, my voice low and dangerous. The women around me shrank back, sensing the shift in my demeanor. Good. I was in no mood for their simpering attention.
Colton, unfazed by my hostility, simply shrugged. "It's my club, my dear, grumpy friend. I'll do as I damn well please." With a casual flick of his wrist, he dismissed the women, who scurried away like mice fleeing a predator. I watched them go, a mixture of relief and frustration coursing through me.
I turned back to my friends, my expression a mask of cold indifference. "If I wanted company, I would have called you," I said, each word dripping with venom. But beneath the icy exterior, a part of me was grateful for the interruption, for the chance to escape the spiral of my own thoughts.
Colton slid into the booth across from me, his eyes glittering with amusement. "Now, now, Rex. Is that any way to greet your oldest friends?"
I glared at him, contemplating whether throwing my drink in his face would be worth the satisfaction. "Friends don't ambush each other."
Remy took a seat next to Colton, his expression serious. "We're worried about you, Rex. You've been off the grid for days."
"I'm a grown man. I don't need a fucking babysitter," I snapped, but the words lacked their usual bite. The truth was, their presence had punctured the bubble of isolation I had been wallowing in, and I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or furious.
The atmosphere in the lounge shifted as Colton, Remy, and Nolan settled in. Their presence filled the air with an expectant tension—they were vultures circling, knowing there was blood in the water. I hated them for it, even as a part of me whispered that maybe this was what I needed.
Colton signaled for another round of drinks, his eyes never leaving my face. I could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he took in my disheveled appearance, the glass in my hand, the bitterness dripping from my every word. Bastard probably thought he was doing me a favor by forcing my hand.
Remy broke the silence, his tone carefully neutral. "I've never seen you like this, Rex. Partying all night, drowning yourself in booze and women. It's unlike you."
His words were like a knife twisting in my chest. They knew damn well it was unlike me. I had never given in to self-destructive vices like this before, never let my composure slip so completely. But since Laurel, since that damn contract, everything was different. I couldn't seem to grasp that thread of stability no matter how hard I tried.
Nolan chimed in, amusement lacing his voice. "It's almost refreshing to see you so unhinged."
My hand tightened around the glass until my knuckles turned white. Unhinged. The word cut deep, striking at the very core of my being. Control had been my bedrock, the foundation on which my entire life had been built. And now, they dared to suggest that I was losing my grip on it?
I met their gazes, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on me. I knew what they were doing, these men who claimed to be my friends. They were testing me, pushing me to my limits the way we had always challenged each other. But this time, it was different. This time, they were probing at wounds that cut deep, exposing vulnerabilities I had kept carefully guarded.
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. I held their gazes, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. But inside, I was wrestling with the very fears they had struck upon. Was I truly losing my hold on everything? Had Laurel's influence gone deeper than I had realized?
A cold breeze blew through me, chasing away the warmth of the alcohol. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had settled in my mind. "I'm fine. Just needed to blow off some steam."
Colton raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a half-smile. "Well, it seems you've successfully blown something. The question is, what now?"
Remy and Nolan exchanged a glance, an unspoken message passing between them. Suddenly, I felt like a specimen under a microscope, my every action and reaction being analyzed and dissected.
