Friction [Book 2]

-england-

"Bronx! Come on, we're going home now." I called out, picking up my handbag from the arm of the sofa.

Bronx appeared in the dressing room doorway, Declan and Gabrielle not far behind.

"Home?"

"Yes."

"You too? And Bodhi?" Bronx's eyes illuminated and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a huge grin.

"Yeah, we're all going home."

I smiled and Bronx came running. He hugged me with such a force that I fell backwards onto the sofa, only to be caught by Pete. His lips found their way to my neck whilst I giggled, lifting Bronx up from the floor. He flung his skinny arms around Pete and I, making us as close as a family that we'd been since before the incident.

And it felt right.

The girls and I stayed inside with the children while the boys took a short amount of time to meet some fans outside. There wasn't a second they'd waste if someone was waiting to meet them, and I respected that so much.

Not long after, Pete had finally found the keys to his car and I had explained everything to Patrick, we were in the car on the way home. Home. It felt good to say that.

Patrick was happy for me. He knew Pete didn't mean what he did, but he was still angry at him. I was still angry too, but that flame was slowly burning out and my love began to blossom again.

"Ellianah? Your phone is ringing."

Bronx scoped out my phone from within my bag and handed it to me from the backseat of the car. I didn't recognise the number but answered anyway. Pete lowered the volume on the radio.

"Hello?" I cleared my throat.

"Hi, is this Miss Sullivan speaking?"

The accent was British. My mind instantly went blank and I shrugged at Pete who was giving me questioning glances from the drivers seat.

"Yes, who is this?"

The line went silent and a tiny muffled exchange of words were just about audible to my ear. I heard the phone change hands and another voice spoke this time.

"Ellianah? It's Julian."

Confused, more so than ever, I became lost for words. I didn't know a Julian and I never have done. At least, I couldn't recall knowing one in my life time. The voice wasn't ringing any bells and since this man was also British, I was wondering how he got hold of my mobile number.

"I'm sorry, I don't know a Julian..."

The man sighed loudly, very noticeably too.

"I thought I might have this problem."

"What-what problem? I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person, I'm-"

"Wait! Please, listen to me."

For some reason, I stayed on the call. We arrived back at the house and I carried Bodhi inside, all whilst listening to 'Julian' on the other end of the line. His words were odd and confused me even more than I already was, but somehow, it all pieced together in my head. In amongst the madness and mistakes, I understood, vaguely.

"My name is Julian Sullivan and I know you don't believe me but I'm your brother. 31 years of age, living in Mayfair, London. I own Sullivan and Co, the British clothing company? Anyway, that doesn't matter. I had to get in contact with you because after some research and persuasion from my wife, it turns out that you have inherited an estate here in England."