by T L Swan
I don’t think so.
I’ll never trust her again.
That horrific thirty-hour flight home from London is ingrained into my soul.
I will never, ever put myself in a position to be hurt like that again.
She can go to Hell… or marry Simon. Either way, I don’t give a fuck.
Finally, the front door opens and her mother walks out. She gets into her car and I watch it slowly pull out and drive down the road.
Okay, let’s go.
I knock on the door. Come on, answer. He’s unemployed. Fuck knows what time he drags himself out of bed.
I knock again, harder this time.
No answer.
Shit, he may not even be home.
I bang on the door. “Brad?” I call. “It’s me, Brock.”
Silence…
I shake my head in disgust. Come on, man. I don’t have the fucking time to be waiting here all day for you.
I bang hard again, and I hear a creak from inside. I put my ear to the door and listen. Footsteps.
Yes.
I step back, and the door opens. Brad is wearing only his boxer shorts, and he looks dishevelled as he frowns and scratches his head.
“What the fuck, man? What time is it?” he moans.
“Seven-thirty.” I smile.
He frowns at me.
“Can you hack?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“I need an I.T. person to hack computers for me.”
He scratches his head again. “Yeah, I can hack.”
“Do you want a job?” I ask.
His brows rise in surprise. “What?”
“I’ve been looking for a person I can trust for a while.”
Brad’s face falls. “Is this some fucked up way to get back with Tully?”
I look at him flatly. “No, Tully and I are done with.”
He stares at me.
“I’m serious, I don’t want anything to do with your sister. No offence.”
He frowns.
“I do, however, want some information on your stepbrother Peter.”
A smile crosses his face. “What kind of information?”
“I think he’s up to something,” I say.
“He would be. He’s a seedy prick.”
I smile. “You and me and are going to get along just great. Get dressed. You start your new job now.”
I knock on Tully’s door at 8:00 p.m. Jes picked her up from work and has been here with her until I arrived. I’ve been with Meredith all day and I’m about to go out of my mind. That woman is annoying as fuck. Rourke, Tully’s partner in the lab, is coming to talk to me. Apparently, there is more news that could help us with the case.
Tully opens the door and smiles warmly at me. “Hi.” Her hopeful eyes search mine and I clench my stomach. She’s freshly showered and smells… like home.
Stop it.
I walk past her into the apartment. “Please, take a seat,” she says in her husky voice.
I feel my cock harden, and I bite my bottom lip. Not now.
What is it with her? Every time, every single time I’m near her, my body is aroused whether I like it or not.
I need to learn how to shut it down, and I need to learn quickly. I drop to her couch, watching her as she sits opposite me. I get a vision of her laughing above me in Hawaii when I told her I loved her, and I frown. The memory hurts.
She begins to talk about her day, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying because her scent is making so many memories wash over me.
The beach, time out… love.
I have no control with her. I couldn’t even open the door when she was outside my apartment because I knew if I did…
This is stupid. Get the information and get the hell out of here.
She says something and crosses her legs, tucking up underneath her bottom. I can see the muscles in her thighs. I get a vision of her muscular thighs up over my shoulders, and I remember how good she felt around me, how her arms felt around me…
Jesus Christ.
This is the worst form of torture.
Perspiration beads on my forehead as I try to concentrate on what she saying.
What if…? No.
I watch her talk for a moment, but I can’t concentrate on a word she’s saying. My eyes are focused on her big, pouty lips.
One more time…
No.
Rourke knocks on the door and Tully jumps up to answer it. “Oh, hi,” she says as she lets him in.
I wince. For fuck’s sake. The last time I saw this guy, I dragged him out of his chair at the restaurant.
“Brock, this is Rourke,” she introduces us, her nervous eyes flickering between us.
I shake his hand. “Hello.”
He forces a scared smile. “Hi.”
I need to apologise before I say anything. “Ah, listen. I’m sorry about the first time we met.”
“You scared the crap out of me. I ran all the way back to the office.”
I smirk. “Sorry.” Who fucking admits that? Even if it’s true, this guy is a dork. A chickenshit dork. “Take a seat,” I say, and they both fall onto the couch. “Tell me about this new information you have.”
Rourke and Tully exchange glances, and I know they have talked about what they are going to say to me.
“Well, this makes me uncomfortable to say out loud, but I feel that in order for you to understand my theory, I have to tell you everything,” Tully says.
I frown.
“Remember when you were wanting to know who was driving a police car with the number plate that you had?”
“Yeah.” I look between her and Rourke. Rourke nods at Tully, urging her to go on.
“Peter was driving that car.”
My eyes narrow. I fucking knew it.
“B-but,” she stammers. “I don’t think he did this. At least, if he is involved, I know he didn’t kill the girls himself. He must have a partner.”
“Why?”
She swallows nervously and looks between us.
“Peter is gentle. He’s a dick, but he couldn’t kill a fly when we were kids. He can’t even watch boxing on television because he thinks it’s too violent. He’s just not capable of physically killing these women.”
“I don’t think—”
She cuts me off. “There’s more.” She pauses and blows out a big breath. “You know how Rourke thinks the lab is bugged?”
“Yes,” both Rourke and I answer.
“Yesterday, when you were all in the meeting downstairs, Rouke, Peter came to the lab.” She swallows and pulls her hand through her hair.
I frown as I listen. She seems nervous. What’s going on?
“He hit on me,” she whispers.
“What?” I snap.
“He hit on me, pinned me up against the counter, and he was really quite aggressive.”
My fury bubbles over, and I stand immediately, as the whole sky turns red.
“But, it proves he didn’t do it.”
I turn to her. “How?” I snap. Wait until I get my hands on that fucker. He’s going to die.
“He’s not killing these girls himself. He’s just not capable, and if the lab is being bugged, he wouldn’t have hit on me for whoever is involved to hear about it. If he knew someone else was listening, there is no way he would have done it.” Her eyes are wide as she tries to prove her point. “Think about it, Brock. He would lose his job immediately and give someone else extra ammunition against him. If he knew the lab was bugged, he wouldn’t have done what he did. No way in hell. It doesn’t make sense.”
I frown as I think. She may have a point. My blood runs cold as a new scenario enters my brain.
“But if he’s not killing the girls, what would he be doing?” Rourke frowns. “How would he be involved if he’s not involved?”
“He’s offering them protection in exchange for sex,” I tell them as all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
“What do you mean?” Tully as
ks, shocked.
“I was told that someone within the police force is offering the women at risk protection in exchange for sex whenever they want or need it. Gang bangs, threesomes, all kinds of shit. But he can’t protect them, because he nor the others involved have any fucking idea who’s behind all this.”
Tully’s eyes widen. Rourke’s, too.
“That makes more sense to me,” Tully whispers. “Peter’s a sleazebag, but he’s not violent. I know that for certain. I grew up with him.”
“So, you want us to put a camera in the lab?” Rourke asks.
I stare at the two of them for a moment as I think. Rourke’s a wimp, and Tully’s safety is non-negotiable. If they get caught, there is no way that either of them could defend themselves. “No,” I say. “I’m not putting you two in the firing line.” I exhale heavily. “At this point, all we know for certain is that Meredith is in danger and knows something she’s not letting slip.” I shake my head. “I need her to tell us what she knows so we can get to them. More girls are going to die unless we do.” I begin to pace. “How do I get Meredith to open up and relax?” I ask. “I’m at a loss with her. She’s the most difficult person to read.”
Tully thinks for a moment, her eyes flickering to Rourke and then me. “We take her dancing.”
Chapter 24
Tully
I sit on the couch and pretend to watch television. Brock is outside my apartment with Ben. Rourke left about an hour ago. They are making plans for us to go out tomorrow night. I’ll call Callie now and let her know.
I dial her number. “Hi,” she answers happily.
“Hey,” I say.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.
I can’t tell her anything about the evidence crap from work. Or the case, other than what she has seen on television, and I can’t even tell her about Peter yet.
What can I actually talk to her about?
“All this crap with Meredith is stressful. They want us to take her clubbing tomorrow night and try and loosen her up a bit. Can you come?” I ask hopefully.
“Sure.” She hesitates for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I sigh sadly. “It’s official, though. Brock hates me.”
“What do you expect?” she huffs.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know. Like you tell me every fucking day: it’s my own stupid fault.” I throw the cushion off my lap and onto the floor. “It pisses me off, okay?”
“Whatever,” she sighs. “Text me the details for tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, okay.” I exhale heavily, feeling bad for snapping at her. “Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’re going to sit there like a sad sack of shit feeling sorry for yourself the whole time or not.”
My mouth falls open. “I’m going through a hard time right now, okay?”
“See, here we go again.”
“You’re fucking pissing me off, Callie.”
“Good, I’m trying to. It might snap you out of this Brock bullshit.”
I roll my eyes again. Trust Callie to say it how it is.
“I want my best friend back,” she says.
She’s right. I haven’t been myself since Simon got sick five weeks ago.
“I’m trying,” I whisper.
“Try harder. Because the Tully I know wouldn’t be begging any guy to take her back. She would be using her brain to actually fix the problem.”
I frown.
“The Tully I know wouldn’t be blaming the universe for her break up. She would handle it.”
“I just don’t know how to.”
She exhales heavily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say softly. “Bye.”
I close my eyes and a tear rolls down my face just as my front door opens and Brock walks in. I quickly wipe it away.
He stills when he sees I’m crying. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.
“Has something happened?” he asks, falling serious.
I shake my head as I stare straight ahead at the television.
“What is it?”
I turn to him. “I’ve made such a mess of everything between us.”
He clenches his jaw.
“I don’t know how to fix us, Brock,” I whisper. “And I want to so badly.”
He rolls his lips.
“You look at me like you hate me.” My eyes search his.
He pulls his eyes from mine, and they drop to the floor. He doesn’t answer me.
“You don’t have to stay here tonight. I know you hate my couch.”
He blows out a defeated breath and drops to sit beside me. “I have to stay here, nobody else can do an overnight shift tonight.”
The lump gets so big in my throat. He’s only staying because nobody else can.
“I’m fine,” I whisper as I wipe more tears away. “I don’t need protection.”
“I’m staying.”
“We can go and stay at your house if you want.” I shrug. “That way you will be able to sleep better, and you won’t be tired tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you in my personal space.” He stares at the floor, unable to make eye contact with me.
Oh God. He’s so hurt.
I nod, the tears rising again.
He doesn’t want me in his personal space and that cuts me to the bone.
I stand, needing to get away from him before I completely lose my shit. “Okay, I’m going to bed. Do you want my bed and I can sleep out here?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“You know where the blankets are.”
Silence.
I walk to my bedroom door, turning back to look at him. “I love you,” I whisper.
His eyes rise to meet mine. “Don’t.” He stands in an outrage. “Don’t you dare use those three words as a fucking weapon!”
I step back.
“Who the fuck do you think you are to come back here and act as if nothing has happened?” he yells at the top of his voice. He picks up a coaster from my coffee table and hurls it at the wall.
I flinch, blinking through my tears. I’ve been looking for a trace of emotion from him, but now that it’s anger I’ve unleashed, I don’t want any of it.
“Don’t tell me that you love me, Tully. Don’t you ever fucking tell me that you love me again,” he growls. His eyes fill with tears as they hold mine. “If this is what love feels like, I want nothing to do with it,” he whispers angrily.
I sob out loud, seeing how hurt he is.
He drops his head.
Silence hangs between us.
Eventually, he turns towards the door. “I’ll be outside.” He walks out, and it quietly clicks shut behind him.
I look around my silent apartment, my vision blurry. My quivering breath is the only sound I can hear.
Every time I try to fix it I only seem to make it worse.
I look over at the clock. Its 2:21 a.m. Brock is on my sofa, but I can’t sleep.
Callie’s words are playing over and over in my mind.
Fix it.
The only way I can fix this is if I get him to let down his guard and talk to me. Tonight, when he got angry, was the first time he has shown any type of emotion. And all because I told him I loved him. I can’t believe that telling him I love him would make him so furious.
Well, I’m not apologising anymore. Callie has a point.
I did what I thought was right at the time, and if he can’t even speak to me about it, then what am I supposed to do?
I roll over and punch my pillow in disgust.
Fucking men.
I sit at lunch with Callie and sip my Diet Coke.
“Where are we going tonight?” she asks.
“The Ivy, I think.” I shrug. “Meredith knows that place so it w
ill make it easier for us all.”
Callie smiles as she cuts into her salad.
“Thanks for the pep talk last night, by the way,” I say. “You’re right, I have been feeling sorry for myself since I got back, and I needed a good kick up the ass.”
“You have every right to wallow a little.” She shrugs. “I didn’t mean to sound cold, but a boyfriend leaving you…” She widens her eyes. “Or you leaving him in this instance, is not the worst thing that can happen.”
“I know.” I bite the food from my fork. “This is true.”
We eat in silence for a moment. “Did anything happen last night when you saw him?” she asks.
“I told him I loved him, and he lost his shit and screamed at me. He told me not to use those three words as a weapon against him ever again.”
Callie’s eyes hold mine.
“He seems to only show me any emotion when he gets angry,” I sigh.
Callie bites the food off her fork. “So… piss him off some more then.”
I frown as I chew, my eyes holding hers.
“He only loses control when he’s angry, right?”
“Yeah.”
She smiles like a Cheshire cat. “Then piss the bastard off so bad that he has a complete meltdown on you. Break him down.”
I put my knife and fork down, and they hit my plate with a clang. “Callie, you are diabolical,” I whisper with a sly smile.
Her eyes dance in delight. “How are you going to piss him off?”
I tap my chin with my fingertips as I think. “Where will I begin?”
Knock, knock.
I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror, and I smile broadly. I’m wearing my black leather pants with a white, low-cut top. My girls are boosted to the sky. I have sky-high stilettos on, and I’m wearing Brock’s favourite lipstick. I know he loves me in white. I also know he loves me in these pants. He can’t keep his hands off me whenever I wear them. I’m also wearing the fragrance he bought me in Hawaii. At the time, he told me it had a hotwire to his dick, which is convenient for me seeing how I plan on starting a few fires tonight.