Conquer Your Love(Surrender Your Love 02)

Chapter 16





THE ROOM SMELLED of fresh butter croissants. The coffee cups were on the table, untouched, almost forgotten now. Jett’s hand kept touching mine as he fidgeted with the box, waiting for me to stop gushing.

Our first night together in a hotel room.

Our first breakfast together after spending the night in a hotel room and having sex in a whirlpool.

The first gift I ever accepted from him.

I made a mental note of all of those things because, ever since meeting Jett, I had been counting all my firsts with him: the first time we used certain words and phrases, the things we did together for the first time, the first activities we planned together. My brain had become a huge scrapbook of first memories together and I couldn’t wait to fill it with more of those.

“Let me help you.” Jett took the watch from my hands and clasped it around my wrist. I held it up to admire it. It was the perfect size with the right feel.

“I love it,” I said again. And I did, but I also hated the feeling of not having something to give back. So I was more than eager to buy him a gift—something unique, something to remind him of this occasion, which I hoped was as special to him as it was to me.

“It suits you beautifully,” Jett said, placing a soft kiss on my wrist.

“Hmm.” I smiled and felt myself melting against the magic of his lips.

“I switched on your phone while you were busy in the shower.” His lips trailed up my naked arm and collarbone, until he found my special spot below my chin.

“Yeah?” I moaned softly.

“Yeah.”

I felt him smiling and wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders, clasping them behind the nape of his neck.

“Sylvie might have called a few times,” Jett whispered.

Oh, shit!

My blood froze in my veins. How the heck could I forget her? She was probably waiting for me, worried that I wasn’t back yet.

While it wasn’t unusual for her to stay the night away every now and then, it had never happened to me. Besides, we always at least texted our whereabouts. She’d be so mad. No, make that livid.

“I have to get home,” I said.

Jett shook his head vehemently. “That’s not a good idea. You’re not safe. Better we try to find out who followed us first.”

“But Sylvie’s all alone in that house. I know her. She’ll freak out if I’m not back soon.”

“She’s fine.”

I took in his set jaw and the determined glint in his eyes. The more time I spent with Jett, the more I realized I had found my match in him when it came to demonstrating an unhealthy amount of stubbornness. Under any other circumstances I might have given in for the sake of preserving harmony, but not when it came to my best friend’s safety.

“I need to see it for myself,” I said.

Something flickered in his green gaze. Was that annoyance? “I’d rather you stay with me at my house.”

His offer sounded tempting. His house was huge, beautifully decorated, and not too far from Alessandro’s estate. But—

I shook my head. “Not happening. I’m not leaving Sylvie alone in that old house. She’s my best friend, Jett. If someone means me harm and I’m not there, they’ll take it out on her.”

“I can send someone over,” Jett said.

Something told me he could keep this conversation up all day.

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “A bodyguard?”

“Sort of.”

I shot him an unconvinced frown. I got it. Jett had money. And lots of it. But a bodyguard—for Sylvie? How would he accomplish that without my best friend’s noticing? Sylvie wasn’t stupid. The moment she’d find out a killer might be after us, Jett might as well hire a bodyguard for himself, too, because Sylvie would end up screaming and blaming him. And when Sylvie was angry I couldn’t vouch for her sanity, or actions.

“Not working for me.” I shook my head and finished the last drop of my coffee. “I’m sorry, Jett, but…I can’t stay. You have to accept that. Now please drive me back.”

“Then let me come with you.”

I almost spilled my coffee. Okay, maybe I didn’t spill it because it was already empty, but you get my point.

“Yeah, that’s not possible either.” I grimaced, struggling with my words. How the heck was I supposed to tell him my best friend didn’t like him anymore and I didn’t want to have to face that storm?

“Why not?” Jett’s eyes narrowed on me.

Oh, for crying out loud.

“Sylvie’s—” I grimaced again “—out of sorts with you.” I peered up at him and almost flinched at the flicker of anger in his expression.

“You didn’t tell her about us.” His eyes were scrutinizing me.

“No, no…” I shook my head, then stopped. What was the point in lying when he already knew it? “Yes, maybe, a little. I didn’t think it’d make a difference.”

He frowned, but didn’t comment. My fingers wrapped around his hand in the hope he might feel my turmoil.

“You broke my heart, Jett, so naturally you’re the bad guy. She made me promise I’d move on from you and date others. So—” I shrugged and laughed nervously “—she’s thinking I’m moving on from you.”

A few moments passed during which he remained silent. I tried my hardest to read his expression, and failed.

“Okay.” Eventually, he heaved a sigh and got up, helping me to my feet.

“You’re okay with it?” I blinked back my surprise. Just like that? During the short time I worked for him, I quickly realized Jett never gave up. What he wanted, he got. And what he couldn’t have, he tried to get nonetheless. “No conditions, no requests?”

“Actually, now that you’re mentioning it, I’m taking you home on three conditions.”

“Of course.” I regarded him amused. Three conditions, huh? “What are they?”

“First, you call me when you’re there and have your phone switched on at all times. Second, I’ll send someone over to watch over you. He’ll keep to himself and you won’t even notice his presence. And there’s no arguing about this condition.” He paused and I raised my brow, choosing not to comment because he seemed quite determined and I just wanted to get home and check on Sylvie, no matter what. “Third, you’ll have to keep your visit short. So tell Sylvie whatever story you need to tell her, but you’re not staying and neither is she. Otherwise I’ll have you both picked up and I’ll use force, if need be.”

“That’s not exactly three requests but five,” I pointed out.

“It’s either you do what I say, or nothing.”

Talk about an inability to compromise.

“Brooke?” It wasn’t a question; it was a warning, magnified by the determination in his eyes and the stubborn line on his forehead. He was back to his alpha male ways, trying to protect me, or whatever his male hormones drove him to do.

“Okay,” I said, already regretting giving in so easily. “Will you drive me back?”

“Sure, baby.” He winked, back in his good mood. “Just hold on tight.”

I rolled my eyes at his choice of words. They seemed to form one of his favorite phrases.



***



On the drive back home Jett kept checking the rearview mirror and the more he did, the more my nervousness increased. If it weren’t for the car chase yesterday, I would’ve thought he suffered from paranoia. Jett drove slowly, maybe because he wasn’t used to the rental car he picked up in the morning. Or maybe because he didn’t want to draw any attention to us. Either way, I felt bad for his Lamborghini. Not that it meant anything to me, but because I knew how much he loved it.

“I’m sorry about your car,” I said.

“It’s not that bad. She’ll be as good as new in no time.” Jett winked amused and focused back on the road.

His car was a she?

Wow! I didn’t know whether he was laughing at me, or trying to annoy me. In the end, I decided to keep my mouth shut.

Less than half an hour later, the car stopped in front of Alessandro’s house. Turning to say goodbye was the difficult part. It always was. Leaving him, not knowing when I’d see him again, a part of me missing him already even though I hadn’t even left the car yet.

“Thank you for the date,” I said. “I’m glad I came.”

He shot me his dazzling smile and ran his hand through his hair before settling on the wheel. “I’m thankful for the second chance.”

“So am I.”

He leaned over and our lips met in a short but heated kiss. “Remember, I want you to keep the phone switched on at all times. If you find anything suspicious—no matter how minuscule or ridiculous it might seem—call me and I’ll be there.”

“Got it.” I nodded. My eyes remained glued to him, soaking him in. The words ‘call me’ triggered a memory. “Jett, did you call me two days ago, about half an hour after you dropped me off at the spa?”

His frown showed me he didn’t.

I pretended not to notice. “I thought I’d ask because the number was private.”

“I don’t hide my number.” I heard the tension in his voice, the mistrust, and the suspicion. “Did you pick up?”

“Yeah, but no one replied.” I bit my lip. He studied me for a moment.

“Maybe I speed-dialed you by accident,” he suggested. “Or maybe it was a friend.”

“Maybe.” I really wanted to believe it because it was a possibility, and yet I couldn’t. In my book coincidences didn’t really exist. “You’re probably right and it was a friend, though with the time difference, it would’ve been early morning back home and I don’t know anyone who’d be up at that hour.”

I felt stupid for bringing this up and dragging on the conversation for longer than necessary. I grabbed my handbag from the backseat, when my eyes fell on something half covered by Jett’s leather jacket and stashed in a holster. I had seen a gun before but never touched one in real life.

“Jett?” I moistened my lips, surprised at the calmness in my voice compared to the frantic beating of my heart. “What’s a gun doing in your car?”

“What gun?”

I stretched to lift his jacket when his hand grabbed mine, stopping me. “Don’t touch it.” His eyes locked with mine.

I knew. He knew that I knew. And yet he remained silent, probably preferring I had never seen it.

“What are you doing with a gun and where did you get it?” I asked slowly, my angry gaze demanding an answer.

“Brooke, you’re not safe.” He shrugged and trailed off, leaving the rest open for interpretation. “ I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Oh, sweet Lord!

“So you got a gun? Is that your answer to our problems?”

Because if it was, I had no idea how to react.

He didn’t answer straight away. “Why not? If keeping you safe involves breaking a few rules, then so be it. You don’t need to know more than that.” He moistened his lips and turned to stare out the car window.

I regarded his profile. Strangely the thought of him having a gun didn’t shock me, not after the few things he shared about his life. What outraged me was the knowledge that I wasn’t afraid.

As long as nobody got killed and Jett didn’t get into any trouble, I was fine with it.



***



I looked at the watch on my wrist. It was 1.15 p.m. In spite of a good night’s sleep and a nourishing breakfast, I felt lightheaded, as though I was floating in a vacuum, unable to focus on more than taking a step after another. So much had happened since I left Sylvie. The date, the proof Jett was on my side, his past, the sex, the pursuit, the discovery of his weapon, his declaration that he cared about me—which wasn’t really that of a surprise because he had said it before. But, with all the drama and emotional baggage gone, it felt different.

Real.

Yet I couldn’t tell my best friend a word about it. It was time I cleared up the misunderstanding about Jett, so I wouldn’t have to hide my blossoming relationship from Sylvie anymore. But how I was I supposed to explain everything without sounding like I had a screw loose? And—even worse—how I was I supposed to handle her reaction? Sylvie wasn’t just overprotective; her vices included the inability to forgive when she felt betrayed. I had a nagging feeling that after all the bitching we did about Jett back in New York, dating him would feel like pure betrayal to her.

Taking a deep steadying breath, I unlocked the front door and entered. The house was deadly quiet, which felt strange. Unnerving. I checked the living room and kitchen, and then walked upstairs to her bedroom, and knocked.

No answer.

“Sylvie?” I opened the door and peeked inside. Her clothes lay scattered all over the floor. Her handbag was on her unmade bed. I peered inside. Except for her phone and credit card, nothing seemed to be missing.

An ice-cold knot twisted inside my stomach. Sylvie never left the house without her makeup. Did something happen to her? If something happened, I’d never forgive myself.

I dashed down the stairs, and double-checked the obvious places—the living room, kitchen, veranda, and backyard. No one in sight.

“Sylvie?” I called as I descended the stony stairs leading toward the woods. Just as I opened my mouth to try again, I spied her on the other side of the pool. She was clad in a bikini, lounging on a chair, her fingers clasped around a cocktail glass. Where the heck did she get that one from?

I heaved a sigh of relief.

She looked well and safe. Heading for her, I noticed she had her eyes closed and music blaring through the earphones. I leaned over her, figuring she’d notice my presence. She didn’t stir.

“Sylvie?” I squeezed her arm gently.

Her blue eyes flew open and she almost jumped in her lounger. For an instant, fear crossed her face before she recognized me and then she smiled, which was quickly replaced by a mask of anger. She was truly madly furious.

“What the f*ck, Brooke! You scared the living shit out of me. Where have you been?” she shouted.

I pointed at her earphones. She removed them but her angry expression didn’t change.

“Where have you been?” she repeated. “I had to call the police. I didn’t know what to do.”

Her eyes were wide with fear and there were dark circles beneath them.

“Oh my god. You did what?” I sat down and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, fearing the worst—that someone threatened her and hurt her. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m not okay.” Pausing, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as though to calm herself. “When your best friend goes missing in a place God-knows-where and you’re expected to communicate in a language you don’t speak, obviously you’re scared out of your mind.” Her finger jabbed my chest as her eyes spew fire at me. “You call. You act like an adult and let your best friend know where you are. You don’t freaking bail.”

I had never seen her like this. Angry. Hurt. Vulnerable.

“You have a funny way of showing,” I said, pointing at the cocktail in her hand.

“Yeah, well. Whatever shit you’re going through, it’s easier when you’re half drunk.” She wrapped the long cord of her headphones around her iPhone, her voice still raw with emotion. “Music’s the only thing that helps me switch off from imagining all the things that could have happened to you.”

Drawing her close to me, I hugged her whispering, “I’m sorry.” I truly hoped she could hear the remorse in my voice. I was horribly sorry for inflicting that much worry upon her.

Sylvie shook her head angrily, rubbing away the moisture in her eyes. “I thought something bad happened to you.” She sounded upset but her tone had calmed down a little.

“I’m so sorry, Sylvie. I know I should have called but you were supposed to get a text message and—”

The hard edge in my voice made her look up.

“I got a text message which sounded nothing like you. What happened?” She eyed me up and down suspiciously. Her X-ray gaze brushed over my face and crumbled clothes. “Where were you?”

The moment I had been dreading had come. Okay, where to start?

Good question, Stewart. What about the beginning?

I took a long steadying breath and let it out slowly. Her eyes fell on the watch and sure enough her jaw dropped.

“Oh my god.” I could almost see her brain working. The moment she put two and two together, her frown changed into a scowl. “You went out with a guy! Please tell me I’m wrong.”

She narrowed her eyes at me as she scanned my face, her jaw dropping further.

“You didn’t, Brooke.”

I nodded.

“You little –britch. Who is it?”

Whenever Sylvie was extremely happy or angry with me, she called me ‘britch.’ It all dated back to the day we were invited to her boring cousin’s wedding. It was all a big traditional yawn, so Sylvie and I had the idea to ditch the party in favor of Sylvie’s backstage passes to a gig—and a musician guy she had been dying to meet. Happy with my offer but also feeling guilty to miss her cousin’s party, Sylvie had combined the words ‘bride’ with ‘bitch’, calling me a ‘britch.’ It was a whole different story or maybe not so different now, considering I ditched her to meet Jett in secret.

“Uh.” I couldn’t even look into her eyes. “There’s a lot I didn’t tell you.”

Fighting for words, I almost expected another of Sylvie’s famous outbursts. What I got instead was a stare with a glint in her eyes that screamed trouble.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was so low I wasn’t sure I heard right. “Oh my god. You’re dating him again.”

“Sylvie—” I raised my hand to stop her and let me explain but she cut me off.

“The signs were there. I should have known no one changes their depressed mood out of the blue. All this time I thought you were moving on, while you were hooking up with Jett.”

I could pretend she was wrong and bide myself time, but was the point in lying?

“How did you figure it out?” I asked, grinning. I should have felt guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. Just hearing Jett’s name coming out of Sylvie’s mouth and her look—her priceless scorn—made me smile.

“Come here.” She wrapped her arms around me. “You silly, silly cow! How could you think just for one minute I wouldn’t notice how deeply and madly you’re in love with him?”

“Is it that obvious?” I whispered.

Nodding, she laughed. “Even if I was blind, I’d still sense that stupid grin on your face every time you think no one’s looking.”

I laughed with her because she was right. Jett did that to me even when he wasn’t around.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She shrugged, not asking what for. There were so many reasons. Like the fact that she kept proving time after time that she was the best friend in the world. We laughed until our eyes shimmered with tears—and still couldn’t stop. It was almost like it used to be when were younger and in my case careless. All the stupid things we did and how we stuck together through every single mistake. The good, the bad, and the outrageous.

Just like now.