Mind Code (Coded Connections Duet #2)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Amelia

A stranger in my own skin.

That’s what I am as I once again stand in the grand entrance hall. My long navy dress hugs my meager curves and its slit reveal more leg than I’m comfortable with. My hair cascades down my back in soft waves, and I feel the weight of my smoky eye makeup.

When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror earlier, I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me. Pretty, yes, but someone else entirely.

I fidget with the décolletage of my dress, trying to pull it up a bit more, but it’s no use. The fabric clings stubbornly to my breasts, and I can’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that comes with it. I’ve been here for almost fifteen minutes, faking polite smiles while guest after guest walked past me into the ballroom.

It’s the night of the annual charity gala my parents host for the British Heart Foundation at the start of October. It’s a cause that’s undeniably important, but the irony isn’t lost on me .

My parents hosting a charity for a heart foundation when they seem to lack one themselves.

The superficial smiles, the idle chit-chat, the way everyone seems to be wearing a mask, I fucking loathe it. But I have to attend, at least to try and talk to August. I haven’t seen him properly since our hike, just shared quick glances and words in passing since Father keeps him in meetings at all hours. I looked for him over the security feed, but he was never around. I even called Abigail to see if she had any luck catching him and she hasn’t.

Never a chance to actually talk.

With each minute that ticks by, my anxiety grows.

What if he doesn’t come?

Then I’m stuck here all night, forced to engage in mindless conversations for nothing . I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Thankfully, I catch sight of him stepping into the hall, looking almost like Father in his suit. His eyes scan the room, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s looking for me too.

But when his gaze finds mine, his posture gets defensive, and as he approaches, he’s already making excuses. “Come on. We’re already late.”

Is he bloody serious?

I shake my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. “Where have you been all this time, Auggie? I came here for you . You wanted me here, but we’ve hardly talked or seen each other. You’re always off with Father.”

He laughs, but it’s a dry, hollow sound. “That’s part of the problem, isn’t it?”

He’s right, but he’s still acting like an arse.

“Well, Abigail had time to talk to me, and we figured out a solution. We’ve planned a new life for you in the US. All you have to do is agree and come with us.” My heart races as I speak, hoping against hope that he’ll see reason .

“You did what?” August’s face falls, his expression a mixture of disbelief and resignation. “I told you—”

“And I told you that I won’t sit by and watch you ruin your life.”

“It’s not that easy, Meelie. We can’t abandon everything like that.” He runs a hand through his hair, and I see the fatigue in his eyes.

But I can’t step back now.

“You can,” I insist, trying to keep my voice down. “And you should.” My desperation creeps into my tone, but I don’t care.

This might be the only chance I get to persuade him.

“They’re our parents,” he argues weakly, his eyes pleading with me to understand.

I feel a surge of anger, white-hot and all-consuming. “That didn’t stop them from verbally abusing me for years.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, but it feels oddly cathartic to finally say them out loud. His eyes widen in shock, and I scoff. “Don’t look at me like you didn’t know. You knew .” I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling exposed in more ways than one.

“I… I suspected,” he admits. The guilt in his eyes is palpable, and for a moment, I almost feel sorry for him.

Almost.

“And you didn’t do anything,” I accuse, my words sharp with years of pent-up hurt. “You thought a day or two out of the house would suffice for a life in Hell instead of stepping up for me.”

Where is this coming from all of a sudden?

He was my escape. It’s as if he’s failed me now.

“I tried,” he protests weakly, but even he doesn’t seem convinced by his own words.

“And now I’m trying. I’m ready to step up for you,” I counter. “You wanted me here, you wanted my help. So take it.” I reach out, grabbing his arm, willing him to understand.

August’s expression softens, and for a moment, I see a glimpse of the brother I used to know. “Meelie—”

Before he can finish, Father’s voice booms down the hallway, calling for him, the sound making me flinch involuntarily.

August reaches out, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says, heavy with regret. “For everything. And for this.”

He lets go of my shoulder, loosening my hold on his arm. Then he turns, and the click of his polished shoes on the marble floor echoes in my ears, each step taking him farther away from me and what I’m offering.

I stand there, trembling from all the pent-up emotions that just burst out of me, feeling utterly alone. My heart aches with pain so sharp it’s almost physical, and I’m about to retreat into myself when Daniel’s voice startles me out of my thoughts.

“Time’s ticking,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes, though something darker lingers beneath it, making my skin crawl.

I whirl around to face him. “What do you want, Daniel?” The words come out brittle with raw emotion.

He laughs, stepping closer, invading my personal space with a confidence that borders on arrogance. “I just wanted to check on you. That sounded bad.”

“ That was a private conversation,” I say, taking a step back, but he just follows until my back is to the wall.

“It was pretty in the open for being private,” he murmurs, his body so close to mine I can feel the heat radiating from him. “You know, we could end that problem in an instant. Just say yes so we can get out of this fucking charade.”

“My yes would only start that charade,” I hiss .

“One you obviously would have some gains from too.” He chuckles, nodding in the direction August walked off. Then his hand reaches out, grasping my chin firmly to make me look at him again, his touch invasive.

I push his hand away, disgust rising in my throat like bile. “Don’t touch me.” But Daniel doesn’t back down. Instead, he moves even closer, effectively trapping me against the wall like a butterfly pinned to a board. My heart races, panic rising in my chest, threatening to choke me. “Let me out.”

“God, you’re beautiful like this.” He smirks, a smile playing on his lips when I narrow my eyes. “You’re overreacting, darling. Don’t make a scene, Mummy wouldn’t approve.”

That’s even more reason to make one.

“Step back,” I hiss, pushing my hands against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“Or what?” Daniel challenges with amusement, leaning in closer, his breath hot on my face.

The next second, he’s ripped away from me with such force that I gasp. Oliver appears out of nowhere, hair polished and dressed in a black suit, but that doesn’t stop him from slamming Daniel against the wall next to me and holding him there with a forearm on his throat. The hatred in Oliver’s eyes is something I’ve never seen before, and his jaw is clenched so tight I fear his teeth might shatter.

The sight triggers a brief flash of Oliver pinning Hendricks down in my apartment after the attack, and the anxiety I felt then from having been robbed surges up to mix with my fear now, even if my rational brain knows that Oliver will make sure I’m fine.

“ Or…” Grey’s cold voice cuts through the tension as he steps up to us, looking dashing as well. “Oliver’s going to kick your pompous ass. ”

They’re going to make sure I’m fine.

Relief washes over me in a dizzying wave, but it’s quickly replaced by an overwhelming tide of shame that threatens to drown me. I can’t stand to see the concern in Oliver’s eyes or the smug defiance in Daniel’s. Without a word, I flee across the hallway into the large guest bathroom, ripping the door open before slamming it shut with more force than necessary, fumbling with the lock until I hear it click.

My legs give out like they’re made of jelly, and I slide down the door, my back pressed against it as if I could melt into the wood itself. My hands find the back of my head, gripping my hair tightly, pulling until it hurts.

There’s a ringing in my ears, high-pitched and insistent, drowning out everything else. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the world, to disappear into the darkness behind my eyelids.

Shit.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

The incessant ringing in my ears suddenly cuts off when Grey’s yelling cuts through the door. “Amelia! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Before I can muster up the strength to respond, I recognize the sound of flowing water that stops abruptly. The next second, Misha is crouching in front of me, his warm, still-damp hands cupping my cheeks, shocking me out of the haze. His dark eyes search my face, then scan my body, concern etched in every line of his features.

“Bug, you’re all right?” I manage a weak nod, my throat feeling too tight to speak. Misha calls out louder, “She’s okay, at least physically.”

Then, despite the suit he’s wearing, he settles down next to me on the cold tile floor and pulls me across his lap. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder, and breathe in deeply, the familiar scent of rain enveloping me.

“What happened?” he asks softly, his breath tickling my ear as he starts to stroke my back.

When I don’t answer, Grey’s voice filters through the door. “The dickhead got handsy.”

Misha tenses beneath me, and he takes a deep breath.

I whisper into his ear, trying to soothe him, “He didn’t hurt me. I promise.” Then, I realize he’s inside the bathroom with me.

What the?

“What are you doing in here?”

“I was using the loo, as you would say.” Misha chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest.

I pull back, giving him wide eyes. “The door was open.”

Misha shrugs nonchalantly. “Forgot to lock it. You know me, always living on the edge.” I can’t help but laugh at his casual admission, the tension in my body easing, and he gives me a relieved grin.

But then Misha’s expression turns serious again as he asks, “What happened? Why did he put his hands on you? I swear, if he—”

Grey’s voice comes through the door again, cutting off Misha’s threat. “Because he has a death wish. You should have seen Oliver almost hulking out.”

“Grey, shut it,” Oliver’s hiss is almost too muffled to hear.

Misha’s touch is gentle as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his fingers lingers on my skin as he asks, “What happened, Bug?” I can’t bear to look at him, so I cover my eyes with my hands like a kid. “What is it with him? Is he into you?” Misha’s voice is laced with concern and a hint of anger. There’s a protective edge in his tone, and it makes my heart ache .

I shake my head, still hiding behind my hands. “No, he’s not.”

“Then what is his fucking problem?”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. Finally, I lower my hands to meet his gaze, my eyes searching his for understanding. “His fucking problem is that he wants me to marry him.”

There, I said it.

“The fuck?” Grey’s voice comes through the door, sharp with disbelief. I can almost picture his scowl.

“It’s… complicated,” I start with a sigh, knowing I need to explain.

“We have an IQ of 135, try us,” Misha probes.

“145,” Oliver mumbles behind the door, and a smile tugs at my lips.

They will understand.

Hopefully.

“My mother wants me to marry Daniel. She thinks it’s a good match socially. But it’s not just about me. It’s about August too.”

“Yeah. Your mother is a gem. But what does August have to do with this?” Grey asks, and I can hear his confusion, but I don’t blame him.

“Father wants him to take over the law firm,” I explain.

“We gathered that.” Misha nods, “But what about it?”

“August hates it, but he feels obligated. His wife is going to leave him over it, and I’ve been trying to give him a way out, but he won’t take it. Abigail and I made a whole plan of bringing them to the States, but he doesn’t want to break with our parents because he thinks they will make their lives hell. This… this engagement to Daniel, it’s the only way I can see to help August escape this fate. If I marry Daniel, he could take over the firm, and August could go back to his old life.”

“The hell you will,” Grey exclaims as he knocks on the wood. “Princess, come on, open the door.”

Misha’s arms tighten around me. “We’re not going to let you sacrifice yourself for him,” he says firmly, his breath warm against my hair.

I lean into Misha, feeling torn between my love for my brother and my own dreams. “But what if August doesn’t want to come to the States?” I say, my voice cracking. “And when he doesn’t want to cut ties with our parents, the engagement is the only way out for him.”

“Your way may not even be guaranteed to work out how you want it to,” Misha says softly, his words hitting me hard.

I could lose everything for nothing.

Closing my eyes, I feel the sting of tears threatening to fall.

“Amelia, come on. I’m done talking to a door. I need to see that you’re okay. Let us in, baby.” Grey’s words are a mixture of concern and gentle command.

Reluctantly, I stand up on wobbly legs, and Misha follows suit. Fumbling with the lock, I finally manage to open the door. Grey and Oliver step in, and before I can even catch my breath, Grey’s strong hands are on my thighs, effortlessly lifting and pulling me close.

“Thank you, Princess.” He settles onto the fancy little couch in the corner of the big bathroom, cradling me against his chest as if I weigh nothing. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me, chasing away some of the anxiety that’s been gnawing at my insides.

I catch Oliver’s gaze as he locks the door behind him. Thank you, I mouth silently, grateful for him stepping in earlier.

He responds with a sad smile that speaks volumes, and I’m once again reminded of how lucky I am to have them .

I have them.

Grey’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts, his tone gentle but carrying an undercurrent of firmness that I’ve come to associate with his protective nature. “It sounds like you need to take your own advice,” he says, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on my back.

Confusion furrows my brow as I ask, “What do you mean?” I can feel the vibration of his chuckle against my cheek as I nestle closer.

“This current decision isn’t yours to make,” Grey tells me what I told him a few weeks ago at the park. “Your brother’s able to make his own choices.”

I feel a surge of frustration bubbling up inside me. “But he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

Grey chuckles again. “Oh well, now we know where you got it from.”

“You’re not playing fair.” I glare at him, but his words, which were originally mine, hit home, piercing through my defenses.

He starts to pet my hair soothingly, his fingers working out the tangles, and relax involuntarily.

“It’s his life,” Grey continues. “He should be able to decide how he wants to live it, even if we don’t agree with his choices.”

“But he doesn’t want to live it like that,” I protest weakly, feeling my resolve crumbling. “He feels pressured too.”

Grey’s voice remains patient as he replies, “Even then. You gave him options. He’s the one who has to take the last step. You can’t live his life for him, no matter how much you want to protect him.”

Oliver’s voice cuts through the silence that follows. “Promise me that you’re not going to marry that dickhead out of obligation,” he demands, his green eyes so intense it makes my heart stutter.

“Yeah, that would suck balls. I mean, we would totally be there to crash the wedding at the speak now or forever hold your peace part,” Misha quips, seemingly trying to make me smile. “But it would be such a waste of all those tiny sandwiches and big, fancy hats.”

“Idiot,” Grey mutters, but it does nothing to hide the smirk in his tone.

Grey is right.

Not only about the Misha being an idiot part, but I can’t live August’s life for him, no matter how much I want to shield him from pain. I’ve done my best to give him an alternative, but the final step has to be his. The decision to break free from our father’s control, that’s a choice only August can make. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but one I know I need to accept.

Mulling it over, I feel a shift within myself. The burden I’ve been carrying, the responsibility I’ve shouldered for August’s happiness, begins to lift. It’s not my cross to bear. And in its place, a new feeling unfolds— hope.

Hope for my own future, for the happiness I’ve found with these three incredible men who surround me now. It’s a strange sensation, this lightness in my chest, as if I’ve been holding my breath for years and can finally exhale.

I think about the love and support they’ve shown me, even when I pushed them away. They’ve stood by me, and now they’re here, protecting me from my own self-destructive tendencies.

The thought of sacrificing my happiness, of marrying someone I don’t love just to save August, suddenly seems absurd.

How could I have even considered it?

The answer lies in years of conditioning, of putting others before myself, but now I see the flaw in that thinking.

Oliver’s plea echoes in my mind, and I realize I owe it to myself and to them to choose my own path. I want the happiness they offer, the love that’s been growing between us.

August has to make his own decision, but so do I.

And I choose them.

“I promise,” I whisper.

It’s a simple phrase, but it carries the weight of my world.

Grey turns my head back to him by my chin, and his eyes lock onto mine with a fiery intensity. His lips capture mine in a fierce kiss that leaves me breathless and dizzy. His lips are firm yet tender, a perfect blend of passion and control. The heat between us rises, my heart pounding in my chest as our tongues dance together. His hands cradle my face, fingers brushing against my skin with a gentleness that contrasts with the urgency of his kiss.

“Ours,” he murmurs when he finally pulls back and lets me catch a breath.

His hands find my hips, and he sets me back on my feet. I’m momentarily unsteady, my legs feeling like jelly, but Oliver’s hand on my upper arm steadies me.

Turning to him, I pull him close with a grateful smile. “Thank you for stepping up for me.”

“You’re wel—” He starts, but I push myself up and surprise him with a kiss, feeling his initial hesitation quickly melt away. His lips are soft and warm, tasting of strawberry Chapstick. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer as the kiss deepens.

Pulling back, I notice the lingering smile on his lips, his eyes glazed. Turning to face Misha, I smile at how he’s noticeably shorter than me because of my high heels.

His trademark grin plays on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come here, Bug.”

Leaning down, I capture his mouth in a kiss that is just as passionate as the others. His lips are playful and teasing, nipping and exploring. His hands grip my waist, steadying me as our kiss deepens, our breaths becoming one. I start to pull away, but he tugs me back for one last peck, whispering, “Tall, British goddess,” against my lips.

Leave it to Misha to make me feel both empowered and flustered in the same breath.

“Let’s just grab our stuff and go to a hotel, fuck them,” Grey states as he comes to stand behind me, placing a hand on my waist.

“I can’t do that,” I reply.

Even if I’d love to do just that.

Grey’s eyes narrow slightly, and he tilts his head. “I’m sorry, did I just misinterpret the last half hour? You’re coming home with us.”

“I will, but I can’t bail tonight. Let me get through this evening, try to talk to August and Abigail one more time, and then say goodbye to my parents.”

Oliver steps closer, concern etched on his face. “Amelia…”

“I’m not saying that I’m not coming home,” I reassure him, touching his arm. “I just want to leave on the best terms possible. I don’t want to hightail it out of here if I can avoid it.”

Misha grins at Oliver. “She called Seattle home .”

I did.

Grey sighs. “Fine,” he mutters, giving me a playful clap on the ass. “Lead the way.”

With a nod, I straighten up and check my makeup in the mirror before I step to the door.

This might become one of the hardest nights of my life, but with them by my side, I know I can get through it.