Stewart strode straight over, blocking Briony’s path.
She stopped and slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were empty, drained of any trace of emotion.
He looked at her, a strange, sharp ache twisting in his chest. “I’ll get a search team organized—”
Crack!
A sharp slap cut him off mid-sentence.
Stewart’s head snapped to the side. For a stunned moment, he just stood there, brows pinched in confusion before he finally turned to look at Briony.
Her hand—still trembling from the blow—fell limply to her side. She tried to clench her fist, but her fingers shook uncontrollably. She’d put everything she had into that slap, and now she had nothing left.
But she refused to let Stewart see her weakness. She glared at him coldly. “Get out of my way.”
Stewart’s expression darkened.
Cedric Clarke hurried over, grabbing Stewart by the arm and pulling him aside. “Let it go, man. She’s not herself right now—you’re only making things worse.”
Stewart pressed his lips into a thin line, his dark eyes stormy and unreadable.
He was used to being in control. For the first time, he found himself utterly powerless.
She’d slapped him—and yes, he was angry. But when he met the burning resentment in Briony’s eyes, he was left adrift, at a loss for what to do.
Briony didn’t spare him another glance. She turned and walked toward her car, her figure looking heartbreakingly slight against the biting winter wind.
Stewart swallowed hard, fighting through the pain that gripped his chest. Almost without thinking, he reached out and caught her by the wrist.
Briony froze, but didn’t look back.
“Let go,” she said. Her voice was hoarse and lifeless, carried away by the wind, leaving only a lingering ache behind.
Still, Stewart refused to release her. He stared at the way she hung her head, his emotions swirling, but his lips remained tightly sealed.
Cedric was nearly frantic. “If you want to apologize, just say it!”
Stella hurried to Briony’s side, shooting Stewart a furious glare. “Are you trying to drive her mad? Let her go, Stewart!”
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