Page 96 of All Bets Are Off

He heaves a sigh as he leans on the wall at my side. “I never said you were,” he argues.

“You just don’t believe me,” I point out.

He hums and I know he doesn’t want to admit it. “It has merit,” he hedges. “But what are we supposed to do with it when she refuses to talk to us?”

Just then my eyes land on a blonde in a sleek black dress, two slits rising high on either side, showing off just peeks of leg without revealing too much. A red and black mask sits firmly on her face, but I’d recognize her anyway.

“Watch her,” I challenge Elias. He follows my gaze to where it’s locked on her. Carson is at her side in a matching outfit as he leads her into the crowded room. She pulls her arm from where it was tucked into his to greet another couple with a hug. Carson leans forward to wrap his arm around her waist and she flinches at his touch. “Watch her as if you still love her. As if it isn’t Carson at her side. As if you’re trying to determine if she’s truly happy with her partner tonight.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue. He knows exactly what I’m getting at. We used to do exactly that for anyone who Brielle showed an interest in. Watched how they treated her, how she reacted. If we could trust the guy to actually take care of our girl.

Carson grips her arm and I can imagine his smarmy smile from here as he pulls her away from the couple and onto the next. I finish my glass and set it down on the table, moving through the crowd to keep the couple in my line of sight.

Each time Carson moves toward her, or leans down to whisper in her ear, she either tenses or flinches. There’s no sign of her sling from the flight. Was she telling the truth and it was only precautionary? Or is she forcing herself to bear an injury so she doesn't have to answer more questions about it?

I can’t see any indications of an injury, but then again, for such a sexy dress, it sure does manage to cover her up well. Hardly any skin is on show besides the brief hints of her legs when she moves. The long sleeves could easily hide any bandages. Or bruises.

I grit my teeth together as the thought crosses my mind.

How long has it been since I’ve seen Brielle in something other than long sleeves? Even during the undie run she was dressed in stockings and a long sleeved robe. Even her lingerie covered her midsection. For being in her underwear, she sure managed to cover a lot up. As if she had done it on purpose. As if she had to.

On Halloween, I thought it had been odd that she chose to wear a white long sleeve under the blue dress, but she had laughed and asked if she was supposed to freeze her ass off. It had made sense then, now I’m wondering if I should have been asking these questions all along.

Carson leans down and kisses her cheek before leaving her with her mother. I see my opportunity and work my way through the crowd to get closer. Carson is clear across the room surrounded by some of the other frat assholes when I finally make it close enough to overhear Brielle’s mom talking to her.

She reaches up and tucks a strand of Bri’s hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you’re okay, honey?”

Brielle laughs as if the question is ridiculous but she leans into her mother’s touch, soaking up the comfort. “Of course, Mom.”

Her mom huffs and it’s such a familiar sight I have to suppress a chuckle. Bri and her mom couldn’t be more different, but they’ve never let that interfere with their relationship. “I just never expected you to end up with someone like Carson,” she whispers and I have to strain to hear her.

Brielle hushes her, slapping her hand.

“Oh please,” her mom laughs. “You know I’m right. That boy wants a perfect doll and you’ve never fit into any mold.”

Go Momma M! I can’t see Brielle’s face from where I stand behind them, but I can imagine her rolling her eyes. “You’ve never had a problem being a pretty doll.” The words could be harsh, but there is no judgment or bitter edge in her tone as she says them.

Her mom snorts. “Since when have you been my carbon copy, Brielle? You’re your father’s daughter through and through. Too strong and stubborn to ever submit willingly like that. I love when your father takes charge. I’m happy with my lot in life, but it was never meant to be your path.”

Brielle stays silent, tipping her champagne glass back to drain it. “Paths change, Mom.”

Her mom sighs, taking her own sip of champagne. “What about the boys?”

Brielle shakes her head. “I’ll talk to you later. I need a break from this inquisition.” She puts her glass down on a table and storms away from her mother in a way I’ve never seen her do before. She’s always catered to her mom’s whims, even when she wasn’t a fan of them.

“I’m getting deja vu watching her take this path,” her mom murmurs. It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking to me. My cheeks heat at being caught eavesdropping. I move closer to her before asking, “Of what?”

She drains her glass of champagne, carefully studying me as she does. There’s worry lines that weren’t there just a few months ago. “Watching a friend become enamored with a Crawford only to lose her.”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean, Mrs. M?”

“I need more than champagne to tell that story, Ashton.” She places her hand on my arm and gently squeezes. “But I don’t want to lose my daughter. Please don’t give up on her.”

“Never,” I promise her, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll get our girl back. I promise.” She kisses my cheek and whispers her thanks before I pull away and head out to find Bri. Her mom’s words chasing me the entire way as I make it out of the banquet hall and back into the entrance hall.

A flash of blonde hair disappears around the corner and I follow after, hoping it was Brielle. There are a few people milling about out here, but no one takes notice as I turn the corner to find Brielle lifting something to her mouth and swallowing a mouthful from her flask.

I grab her arm gently, making sure to hold the one that wasn’t in the sling, and pull her with me into the coat closet.

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