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“She left me,” I croak out to him and then curl into a ball, among the remains of the life we had built in such a short time.
Slade doesn’t know what to do. “Dec, let’s get you cleaned up—”
“No!” I shout at him. “Fuck you! Leave me the fuck alone!” I hear Slade exhale and then I hear him on his phone, talking with someone, probably Axel.
“No, man, I don’t know what to do… He’s not up for anything… I know, but we can’t move forward without him and God only knows, maybe we have to let the plan die, let this whole thing go… yeah, me either, Axel, but Declan is the brains for this whole thing. We can’t do it without him.”
It is at those words that I realize I can’t let them down too. I had let Vivian down. I wasn’t good enough for her, and I couldn’t give her what she needed, not yet, not how I was. But I’m not going to lie down like a battered fucking dog and fail Slade and Axel too.
And now I realize that he had done it, that motherfucker. Lexington had taken what meant the most to me. He had taken me to a dark place, where I had obsessed about him, and in my tunnel vision I had ignored what really mattered and driven Vivian away.
Now I am more than ready to do the same thing to him. I am going to take the one thing he loves and is more devoted to than anything and watch him suffer, and I know it will make me feel alive, and it will make everything right. Something has to, because I’ve decided that I am not going to lie down and die. I am going to make myself something more.
So I move to stand, and it isn’t without an effort. And when I do, I meet Slade’s eyes and he freezes. He looks afraid for me, or maybe he is afraid of me. My own brother.
“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” I say, and start down the hall to the bathroom. This ends now.
Chapter 57
PRESENT DAY
VIVIAN
Ihear a buzzing, but then it’s gone. Then it’s back, and then I realize that it’s my phone vibrating within my clutch on the table. I get up and go over to it, checking my watch on the way. Three a.m. Who the hell would be calling me at this time?
In the silence of the suite, the buzzing feels incredibly loud, and I quickly fish the phone out and answer, seeing a number that isn’t saved flash across the screen. “Hello?” I breathe into the phone.
“Open the door,” the voice says. And my breath hitches at the sound of it.
It’s Declan. I would know that voice anywhere. I hear it every night in my dreams.
“What?” I ask, still trying to fight through the sleep fog and analyze what he is saying and what it means.
“I am at the door,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Come to the door and open it,” he instructs, and then silence. He’d hung up.
I make my way to the door, now completely irritated at his demanding way, like he can still boss me around after all this time, and open it to find Declan standing there. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his white dress shirt undone, and I see the top of his falcon tattoo on his chest. I hate that I want to reach out and touch him, and hate even more the effort I have to put in to keeping my hand from actually doing it.
“We need to talk,” he says.
“Declan, I’m not alone,” I say hotly, thinking about Kent sleeping in the room across the small living area.
I watch his eyes darken. The rest of his face remains flat, but I can tell he is angry. Even after all this time, I can still tell his emotions by his eyes.
“I know,” he says coldly, his voice monotonous, giving nothing away. “I have a room on this floor.”
I hesitate. Is this a good idea? Is being alone in a room with Declan smart? Maybe we should wait until morning.
“Okay,” I finally agree. We should hash things out, I decide. I am clearly not over us, and we hadn’t exactly ended on a good note. Whatever happens or is said during this time is going to be the end of it. We should get it over with and the sooner the better.
I watch the storm in his eyes ease slightly at my agreement. Declan takes his right hand and pushes the door fully open, allowing me to leave out of it. I turn once I’ve exited the room, and watch as he gently shuts the door.
Declan faces me and his eyes meet mine, and he angles his head indicating which way we are going. I follow him to the end of the hallway, where Declan puts his thumb on the keypad of the door and it opens. I look at him questioningly, unable to hide my shock. “I own the hotel,” he says, answering my unvoiced question.
That’s right—my Declan is a billionaire now. And he isn’t mine, I internally chastise myself. Just Declan. Declan is a billionaire. But I push that aside. We are here for something else.
I enter the room and turn to face him as he closes the door behind him.
“How did you get my phone number?” I ask as the door clicks shut. It’s been quiet for far too long, and I need to end it.