He raises an eyebrow. "This is new gossip and I am trying to help you out."
As he walks over to me, I notice our difference in height. For some reason I've never noticed the way he towers over me. Probably because I'm always looking at the ground, unless I'm sitting on it. He's definitely not as tall as Cole, nothing about his physical appearance is like Cole's. Cole is tall and muscular, Dean is tall and lean. Cole has more of a playboy face, whereas Dean is more of a rugged pretty boy. The only thing they have in common is that swagger, or spark that some guys have. The one that draws you to them, even though you know in the back of your mind that you will get burned once you get too close. When he leans close to me, I take in his scent of nicotine and cinnamon before he hands me the magazine, making me flinch a little.
He holds my stare as we both grip either side of the magazine. "Chill out, I'm not gonna hurt you, chick."
"You are hurting me," I whisper as I sit down on the bed and look down at the magazine. It looks blurry through my eyes, so I can't make out who's on the cover of this one. He cups his hand under my chin and lifts my face to look at him, but I turn out of his hold. "Don't touch me, please."
He exhales heavily. "I'm sorry about your sucky situation, and I'm sorry you're the one that has to deal with the mess others have made."
"I just wish I knew why this was happening to me," I say quietly as I stare at my chipped red nail polish.
"I dunno the whole story, but from what I've heard your dad screwed Benny over. Alex's beef with your dad is personal though," he says quietly.
I take a deep shaky breath. "How did my 'dad' screw them over?" I ask, emphasizing the word that's so unfamiliar to me, just like the man himself.
"Well, from what I've heard-"
"Dean! I've been calling you, where's your goddamn phone?" Alex shouts as he stomps over to my room. I hide the magazines under my pillow and bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself. Dean gives me a grateful look before picking up the tray and standing.
"I came down to bring her food," he replies to Alex, who is now standing in the threshold looking at me. I try my best not to squirm or look away from his stare.
"Good. You can go," Alex says in a gruff voice. I close my eyes, grab a handful of the sheets beside me, and pray Dean stays a little while longer.
"I'll see you, chick," Dean says, looking at me with regret in his eyes. I nod in response and watch him walk out, leaving me alone with Alex.
Alex looks at me for a long time, his eyes drifting all over my face until they settle on my eyes.
I take a fourth gulp of whiskey and welcome the burn in the back of my throat, praying that numbness engulfs my pain soon. The camera flashes that bolt through the windows remind me that four drinks isn't going to be enough to hold me off tonight. I can't believe I agreed to come to this shit; the last thing I wanted to do was fly out of Chicago, but attending a social event takes the freaking cake. People would've understood if I would've skipped out on the event, but Greg was acting like a little bitch, begging me to come with him because Becky couldn't make it. After two years of trying and failing, she got some in-vitro treatment done and finally got pregnant. Unfortunately, she's been having a rough first trimester, and Blake's kidnapping hasn't helped her stress level.
I put down the glass and run my hands over my buzz cut and rough beard, before picking it back up and drinking what's left. To say that I'm going fucking crazy without her would be the understatement of the century. I went back to work two weeks after she disappeared thinking that I could use the distraction, but I couldn't. I had to take a leave of absence and I don't know if I ever want to go back. I don't know if I can.
"Yo, what's up?" Greg asks, stirring me out of my angry daze. He's holding a beer bottle, pointing at my hand with his pinky.
I look down and growl when I realize that I shattered the glass in my hand. I clean up, tossing the broken glass into the tiny ass garbage can next to me, before getting napkins and wiping the blood from my hands.
"Shit. Does it hurt?" Greg asks as he examines my hand.
I shrug. "Not enough." He exhales and shakes his head. "You ready?" I ask before he says anything else.
He nods once and takes a deep breath, stretching his neck the way he does before he goes on the field. I know he's mentally preparing himself to deal with my wrath in public. I heard him on the phone with Becky last night and from what I gathered, she was coaching him on how to handle me. As if I'm some kind of wild animal or something.
As soon as we step out of the limo, the camera lights start flashing. Greg turns to me. "You know you don't have to talk about anything, right? If they ask you questions, just ignore them, or let me handle it."
I shake my head. "Let them ask. Maybe it'll help." The authorities are calling Blake's kidnapping a disappearance, as in she left without leaving a trace. They're saying there were no eyewitnesses around that saw her being taken. They even had the audacity to ask me if maybe she was involved with somebody else and doesn't want to be found. At least the news reporters are still talking about it and speculating that it was a kidnapping, which I'm getting tired of confirming. It doesn't help that Bruce has no recollection of anything that happened that day, so at this point, I'll take any help I can get. Maybe keeping my face in the news is the right step.
We walk down the red carpet, and Greg and I stop to pose for a couple of photos. Reporters are yelling from all directions, asking me questions. "Mr. Murphy, how are you holding up? Have you learned any information about Miss. Brennan's disappearance?"
I take a deep breath and turn to the reporter. "We're still searching. I'm not losing hope. I know I'll get her back. If anybody sees or hears anything, please contact the police immediately!"
Everything is going fine, until some idiot yells, "Have they found her body?" and I feel the blood drain from my face. I close my eyes and clench my jaw as Greg puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I'm silently hoping my anger will pass, but the fucker repeats the question, louder this time.
"Who the fuck asked that question?" I growl.
The flashes continue. You'd think they would stop because they know I'm pissed. Instead these dumb mother fuckers are eating this up. I know this, and I don't want to give them a fucking show, but damn if I can stop myself. I feel Greg place his other hand on my shoulder and start ushering me out. I hear his voice, but I don't know what the fuck he's telling me. When we reach the next batch of photographers I bump into a woman in a gold dress. I'm about to apologize and walk away, but she turns around and my eyes get caught in Erin's pale blue eyes. She smiles sympathetically and before I know it, she pulls me into a hug.
"I'm so, so sorry, Cole. So sorry. I tried calling you, but it always goes straight to voicemail. How are you doing?" she asks sweetly.
Erin's a class act and by far the sweetest girl I've dated. I ran into her after we broke up. She'd heard I started dating Blake, and instead of being angry, she congratulated me and smiled. She said she always had a feeling we were meant to be together.