The Color of Her Lips

Chapter Twenty-One

Ariana

I need to focus. To gather my thoughts and find him. I know who he's looking for. He's looking for Brandon. But where the hell is Brandon?

As I slip in my leather pants and put a tight sweater on, I tell Siri to call Susan, my bodyguard that secretly follows me around with her husband Malcolm.

The line rings, and after just one ring, she answers. "Ariana, it's four am, everything okay?" she says in a sleepy voice.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, but I need you to bring me my gun with its bullets. Please," I add.

I hear her shuffle in the bed, her voice becoming wary. "What's going on? Why do you need your gun?"

"Just come here and give it to me. Michael's not here, he won't know," I reassure her.

"I'll be here in ten with Malcolm. Wait outside the building when I text you."

"Good."

"Hold on," she says after a pause. "You're not trying to kill yourself, are you?"

I almost laugh. "No, Susan, don't worry."

She sighs of relief. "Oh, you need a ride to somewhere?"

"Yes, as soon as I know where. I'll let you know. I need to get ready now, bye."

I hang up and stuff my knives in a leather duffel bag. If I'm going to see Brandon face to face, I want to make sure I'm prepared for everything. The word Michael used talking about him, it's true. He is brutal. I bet he would hurt anyone who says it wrong with no hesitation.

And Michael is obviously going to tell him the facts, accuse him, and throw his hate and resentment at him. And he won't react well. I know this.

I call Michael once more while I wrap myself in a fur coat.

"Hey, it's Michael—"

"Michael, where—"

"—DeAngelis. I'm probably busy right now, so if it's really important, try again and maybe I'll answer." Beep.

"Ugh!" I groan out of frustration and throw my phone on the bed. But I need it to make another call.

I scroll through my calls and find the number of Brandon's secretary. I know it's four am and she's probably sleeping but...who cares?

"Hello?" a feminine sleepy voice says.

"Hello, I'm sorry it's so late but I need just one information." She doesn't talk so I say, "Where does Mr. Brown exactly live?"

She gives me the address without hesitation, probably she doesn't even realize who she's talking to, she didn't even ask.

"Thank you," I say politely and hung up immediately.

Okay, time to go find that bastard.

• • •

"Here you are," Malcolm says when we arrive at the address.

Susan and I climb off the car. I push the button that reads 'Brandon and Angeline Brown'.

"Who's this?" someone asks. "Mr. Brown isn't available right now."

We figured they would say this, so Susan tells him she's Angeline's cousin who just arrived from Canada.

"Okay, come up," the man says.

"Thank you," I tell Susan, as I step inside the building.

He doesn't live in a mansion, like Michael and I, he lives in an apartment apparently, which is weird.