Page 8 of Entwined with My Best Friend's Brother

Then I remembered she said she never wanted to see me again. Does she mean what she says? Will she never see me again? Grunting, I complete the twenty sets of lifting fifty-pound weights and drop them on the gym floor, shocking everyone.

As my cell unexpectedly vibrates in my right pocket, I feel apprehension as I see Gwen's name flash on the screen. Wiping my sweat using my gym towel, I pick up and bark, "What is it?"

"Ryan, I need your help," she says, sighing. Becoming alert, I sit up straight. "What do you mean? Explain."

"Jen's gotten a couple of threatening messages. But reporting threatening messages with hard proof to Chicago PD is usually useless. Even our bureau editor won't take it seriously. So, unless it's a real proven threat, they usually won't move."

I can't help but remember Jen's words about how she always encounters such situations. But placing the reason for her tears, I don't know what action to take. I decided to be professional in handling this matter.

Knowing my sister is also over-protective of Jenna, I can't help asking, "And why exactly do you think it isn't a hoax?"

"Look, I know what you're thinking. And I could be wrong. But should I take the chance? Jenna is a single mom with a five-year-old kid who lives in a house with only two locks. She calls security on the front and back door. If we wait for anything to happen to her to prove it's a real threat, isn't that riskier? Can't you send someone from the firm to guard her for a week, confirm it's a hoax, and then scold me?"

Having lost friends in the military when I was a soldier, I can understand where Gwen is coming from. It is better to be safe than sorry. But there are protocols for these situations, and one is to confirm whether the problem is a hoax or a real threat before executing official orders. More than sixty percent of such cases always ended up being nothing more than a hoax. And if I were to complete official orders without following the proper protocol, my firm could get implicated in a major court case. But even that would be okay as long as we paid the fine.

What I am concerned about the most is that if the situation is a real threat, it is possible that reporting the case can further encourage the culprit to choose other methods of threatening the victim. Sending another man to guard Jenna doesn't sit well with me. And if it means I can see her, so be it.

"So… Ryan?" Hearing my sister's plea, I start, "I won't send a guard-"

Before I finish, Gwen shouts impatiently, "Why not?"

I almost growl in annoyance, "I'm not finished, Gwen." Hearing her finally shut up, I continue, "I won't send a guard, but I will go myself to confirm whether it's a hoax."

At that, Gwen gets oddly surprised and excited, "Really?"

Annoyed, I throw back, "What? You're the one who asked this of me. And don't forget, if it's a hoax, I get to put you down for this. Got it?"

I can sense Gwen smiling smugly as she sweetly responds, "Got it…."

Grunting in annoyance, I cut off the call before she can and return to my routine, getting on the treadmill, ready for my 10 km run, when another annoyance comes.

"So, who was that?" Glancing at me suspiciously, Gray picks up a set of thirty-pound dumbbells, piquing my annoyance.

He is here to discuss what happened at the Armanis' charity event. The bastard has been trying to talk to me ever since. Not in the mood, I put in my ear pods and ignore him when Gray pushes a stop button on my treadmill. Damn it. I can no longer ignore him.

Almost jumping off the treadmill, I snarl, "What?"

Gray has a dead serious look on his face by now. "Ryan. I'm worried about you. You've got to talk to me, man."

As irritating as I find the situation, I don't and still don't wholly understand what hurt Jen the most. I don't want to meet her this way, or she will kick me out of her house. Wait. Did Jen ask Gwen to call me? Suddenly, I might have the much-needed chance to apologize and make up with Jen. We can become good friends. But it is confirmed that I don't know what hurt Jen the most. Not to mention, I rarely ever apologize to anyone. I need to solve this situation, but I need help.

"Earth to Ryan?" Snapping me out of deep contemplation, Gray asks, "You okay, man?"

Sighing, I tell him everything. Gray listens thoughtfully, but when I stop, he laughs. He fucking laughs and rolls off his chair, still laughing. The bastard.

After ten whole minutes, his laughter turns to snickers, and as he struggles to stand up and sit on his chair again, he asks, "So you're like this just because of a woman? A woman who dumped her drink on you?"

I stare at him, doubtful, and just as I nod, he bursts into laughter again. Rolling my eyes, I stand up, "That's it. I'm leaving."

Then the still-wheezing bastard clings to my arm, "Wait. Wait. I'm sorry. I'll be serious from now on. I swear."

Grateful that the newcomers have been so invested in recovering from their vigorous training from this morning to listen to our conversation, I sit back down and threaten, "If you laugh again, I won't hesitate to punch you in front of the newcomers, Henderson."

Heeding my warning, Gray sits back down and tries so hard to calm himself. "Okay. So, this woman you're troubled over, is she the same woman I saw you with at Armani's charity event?"

I nod hesitantly. "Yeah."

"And you don't like that she was at the event with another guy?"

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