Page 50 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

But she wasn’t there.

I growled. No doubt Laura had left some time in the night. And that stung, given our history.

I sat up in bed, and my eyes rested on the dark, reinforced door in the corner of my bedroom. Suddenly, a panicked thought came to me, and I felt for the key around my neck. It was still there. Good. I’d always been a light sleeper, and I knew there was no way Laura would have gotten the damn thing off of me and replaced it without me noticing.

But she’d still run away. Again. Why?

I reached for my phone to see if she’d texted or called me. Anything. Anything to let me know where she was. But there was nothing. Nothing to suggest she’d wasted a moment’s thought on me since last night.

I thought back over the incredible sex we’d shared, the way our bodies had communed with one another until it felt like we were one, one heart and one mind. I sighed, and got up, stretching. It was Sunday.

I felt rejuvenated. I must have slept for at least ten hours, an unusually long time. But then, I’d felt exhausted after the emotional strain of the party last night and I’d been running on empty for a few weeks now. My thoughts of David were dark, and I tried to block out the image of his angry stare, his cold sneer, as I got dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I put on my running shoes, and clipped my phone. Finally, I put on a pair of wireless headphones.

Since Laura knew the security code for the gate, it would have been easy for her to slip out of the house. I’d have to think about that in the future, and on my way out, I locked the door and alarmed the remote system. Now, no one without the access code would be able to get in while I was out. Not even Laura Solomon.

As I warmed up, jogging gently down the path and off my land towards the Falls, I wondered if she’d had to go back for her son. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. But deep down, I knew that it wasn’t that.

She didn’t trust me. Despite everything.

I put thoughts of Laura aside—I could deal with that later. For now, I needed to take my mind off things. And as I began to breathe deeply, I settled into a pace as I started to jog up the valley.

Away from the Falls, the path grew steeper, littered with rocks as I approached the old mining trail. Dark, black pines began to rise over my head as my feet hit the ground. It had been a while since I’d had the time to run this way, and gradually I wasn’t thinking about Laura. I wasn’t thinking about anyone. I was completely lost in my run, my breaths deep and rhythmic, and all I could hear were my steps and my breath, and the sounds of the forest, sharp breezes of air, and the occasional sounds of the birds.

After a while, I ascended and was already a few miles up the path. I turned on some music, a selection of tunes I’d made just for running. The beats helped me keep time, and before long, I was accelerating as the path flattened out.

My idea was to run all the way around the valley and back down the other side, to the Old Bridge. All told it was fifteen miles or so, well over a half-marathon. But at a slow pace, it would take me the rest of the morning at least.

I didn’t slow my pace or stop. And gradually, I began to feel the pain. The pain I relished more than anything in the world, the chest-thumping, heart-pounding, leg-aching pain that told me I was pushing myself to my limits. But I felt oddly comfortable as the endorphins kicked in.

I must have been running for at least an hour when my headphones started to buzz and burr. I stopped, breathing hard and feeling my heart hammer as I took out my phone.

It was the alarm system. Someone had tried to get in, someone with the code. The automated alert could only mean one thing.

Laura had tried to get into the house.

Did she want to see me? Talk to me? It didn’t matter. I’d put the phone back into my pocket and was about to smugly ignore it when my ringtone started to sound.

I growled, and enabled my Bluetooth headset. I answered the phone and put it in my pocket, as I started to jog again.

“Barnes,” I said through gritted teeth. Who is this?

“Lucien?” said Laura. “Lucien, is that you?”

“Laura?” I said.

“Lucien!” she said. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call, I—”

“What is it?” I said. “And where did you go last night?”

“It doesn’t matter. Where are you?”

“It matters to me.”

“Will you stop for one second?” said Laura. And now I could hear the panic in her voice, the way the pitch had deepened and the adrenaline that was in her system.

It was like I could feel her worry, even from miles away.

“What’s the problem?” I said.