Brash Company

by Crystal Perkins

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. He seems like a nice young man, and you were happy with him.”

  I close my eyes, trying not to cry. “He is, and I was.”

  “Beckham, I brought you a plate of food.”

  I look up to see the one of guys who went after Sully standing in front of me, holding out a plate, like it’s a peace offering. I’m not at peace right now, and it’s because of him and his friends. Friends who are standing with him, looking smug.

  “I don’t eat during the daylight hours. I told you that last week.” I close my eyes again, because I don’t want to even look at any of them.

  “He’s not here, so we thought you’d come to your senses.”

  “What kind of American would choose to eat like a Muslim?” one of his friends asks.

  “This one.”

  My eyes pop open when I hear Dylan’s voice. The crowd parts as he walks forward with Nev. I jump up, hoping they’re here with news.

  “Whoa, you’re Dylan Gallagher.”

  “Can I have an autograph?”

  “I need a selfie.”

  Dylan ignores them all, coming to stand in front of me. I hug Nev, and smile at him. “Mom, Dad, you might remember Sully’s sister, Neveah, from the restaurant. This is her boyfriend, Dylan.”

  My parents stand, and shake their hands. Everyone else just stands there in shock, looking at Nev like she’s a foreign creature. She pretends not to notice, but I see the anger in her eyes. She wants to lash out at all of them, just like I do.

  “You can stop staring, because I’m not going to turn into a blonde, with blue eyes,” she tells them. “No offense, Becks.”

  “None taken, Nev.”

  “We wanted to invite you to celebrate Eid with us at our place next weekend,” Dylan tells me.

  “What’s Eid?” one of the kids ask.

  “It’s a celebration of the end of Ramadan. For three days, we feast, give gifts, do charitable work, and celebrate together.”

  “Ramadan is that thing where you don’t eat.”

  “We fast during the day, in honor of Mohammed, and God giving him the revelations which would become the Quran.”

  “What is that?” another kid asks.

  “In simple terms, it is the Muslim Bible.”

  “Have you read it?”

  “Yes, and Nev has read my Bible. One day, we’ll be married, and our children will know both.”

  “So, you read about suicide bombings, and blowing people up?” the guy who called me a bitch last week asks him with a sneer.

  “No. I read about many of the same things taught in the Christian Bible. Love, forgiveness, and acceptance. Islam is not about what evil men have tried to make it.”

  “Whatever. I’m never wearing anything with your name on it again.”

  “Please don’t,” he tells him, glaring back.

  “Can I speak to you alone, Becks?” Nev asks me.

  “You can use our apartment,” my mom says.

  “I’ll just sign some autographs for the kids,” Dylan tells us.

  “What about the adults?” one of them asks.

  “Anyone who didn’t insult Sully last week is welcome to an autograph.”

  I shake my head as we walk away. “He’s amazing.”

  “He is,” Nev agrees.

  “I’d love to celebrate with you. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re always welcome at our home.”

  “Without Sully?”

  “Yes, but I must tell you, those people out there made me uncomfortable, and I’m used to being called all sorts of things online. They weren’t even saying the stuff they said to Sully, and I felt smaller around them.”

  “I only came here for my parents.”

  “I understand, but I just wanted you to know, I’m getting why my brother freaked out. We dealt with this when we moved to the U.S., and it was bad. So bad, sometimes I’m not sure how we survived it. I don’t like that he ran, but I understand it.”

  “Where is he?”

  “London, but he’s leaving for Paris in a couple of hours.”

  “What? After they had attacks? He’s not safe!”

  “He’s safe,” she assures me. “He has entourages in both places who love his unlimited funds.”

  “I thought Matt cut him off.”

  “He let him keep his credit cards, and lines of credit, but told him he’d have to pay the bills. He won’t hold him to it for this, although if he’d just been partying here, he would’ve made him pay.”

  “I’ve been waiting for him to text me it’s over, so he can be with other women.”

  “My brother is hurt, and angry, but he’s not stupid.”

  “Only time will tell.”

  She looks away, and then back at me. “I want you to bring him home.”

  “What? How?”

  “Matt has a jet waiting for you, money for you, and an apartment in Paris. Anything you want or need is at your disposal,” she tells me as she hands me the passport I applied for when I started at C&C, along with a credit card with my name on it. It’s black, and I know there’s no limit.

  “What if he won’t come back with me?”

  “He will.”

  Can I do this? Can I go to Paris, and see him draped in other women? Can I convince him to come back to me—to all of us? Do I even want to?

  “Yes. I’ll go.”

  Sully

  Another city, another club, same old games. The raven-haired twins on my lap seem to think I’m funny, even when I’m not talking. They laugh every few seconds, making me want to cover my ears. I just might do it if I wasn’t busy keeping their hands off my junk.

  “Sensationnel,” one of the Frenchmen with me says, and I look to see what his “wow” is for.

  No. It can’t be. But, it is. Beckham is here, in that damn sweatshirt dress and thigh-high boots. She’s here, and she’s walking this way.

  “Sully.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’d like to say I’m in Paris for the first time to see the Eiffel Tower, but instead I’m here, in this club, seeing you with these women.”

  “I will take you to see whatever you want,” the man who noticed her walk in says, placing his hand on her bare thigh.

  I jump to my feet, pulling his hand away. “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”

  The women call my name as I take Beckham’s hand, but I ignore them. I have to get her out of here, away from them and the ugliness of who I am now. I’ve no doubt she remembers this “me”, but I want so badly for her to forget it.

  “Where are we going?” she asks, as I pull her out a side door.

  “You are going back to Las Vegas.”

  “I don’t take orders from you.”

  “Who do you take them from? Who sent you here? My sister? Matt? You couldn’t afford this on your own, so who’s paying you to be here?”

  “I came because I wanted to. Matt gave me a jet, but I’m going to insist on paying for the credit card I’m using when the bill comes.”

  “That’s what we all say in the beginning.”

  “You were going to pay for your own things from the internship,” she reminds me, but I don’t want to be reminded. “I know the people at the party hurt you, but they are just a few people. Those of us who love you, know you’re not who they said you are. Come home, Sully.”

  “You don’t know! You know nothing! Go home. You shouldn’t be here. Go home! What do you want from me?”

  “I only want you, and maybe a kiss under that sparkling Eiffel Tower when you’re not covered in the lipstick, and perfume, of other women.”

  “You don’t want me.”

  “I do, and I thought I’d done enough to show you that.”

  She has. She’s done so much for me, and I know she cares. I know it, but I can’t accept it.

  “Go home. Please, just go home, Beckham. Don’t come back here, and d
on’t try to save me, because it’s too late for that.” I hold up my phone, with the text I haven’t sent her. “I couldn’t send this, but you have to leave.”

  She reaches over, and sends the message, before I can stop her. I hear the answering beep of her phone, and stare at her in horror. She glares back at me. “If you wrote it, you meant to send it. Go back inside, and fuck those women, like you want to. You’re completely free now.”

  I let her walk away, but I don’t go back inside. I can’t, because it’s not the twins I want to fuck. Seeing her here, coming for me, cracked the wall I’ve put up again to protect myself. When she sent that text to herself, it crumbled even more. I just let the woman who loves me for me walk away, and I don’t know how to get her back.

  Chapter 11

  Beckham

  I tried. I walked into that club, saw the women on his lap, and I still tried. Now, I just want to go back to Matt and Reina’s apartment, and collapse into bed. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow, back in Las Vegas, and this will all be a dream. Or more accurately, a nightmare.

  The driver Matt hired for me isn’t here, because I told him I’d be at least an hour. I thought I would be, because I was stupid enough to think I meant something to Sully. Who knew I’d be out the door in less than five minutes? Probably everyone in that club, except for me, but I don’t regret it. I needed that closure, even if my heart is now in pieces.

  My app says there’s an Uber around the corner, so I order it, and wait. The guy who drives up in the Mercedes is handsome, and flirty, but I just give him a polite smile as I climb in back, and call Matt.

  “Are you at the club?”

  “I just left. It’s over. He wants this life, without me in it.”

  “Shit. Have the driver take you back to the apartment to get some rest.”

  “He’s having dinner, so I grabbed an Uber to take me back.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “No. Why?”

  “Most Ubers are safe, but some aren’t, especially in Europe. Human Traffickers use them. You are a beautiful woman, Beckham, just the type they look for.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “It may be, but I still would like you to get out of that car. Can you do that for me?”

  “Okay,” I say meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and returning his smile, which now looks a little off. I could be imagining it, because Matt has me freaked out, but maybe I’m not.

  “Tell the driver you want to get off at the next street, and pretend to hang up.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  I hit a random button on the phone, and smile again. “A friend is actually going to meet me up at the next street, so you can just drop me here.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m going to take you to a party.”

  “Drop me off here.”

  He just laughs, and I see him move his hand towards the automatic locks. I do what I have to do, opening my door before he can lock it. He’s yelling at me as I unbuckle my seatbelt, and tumble out onto the street. My head hits the ground, and everything goes black.

  Sully

  My phone starts going off, but when I see it’s Matt, I ignore it. Until he calls back every few seconds, and I finally answer, just to get him to leave me alone.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “A lot, but that can wait. Beckham’s hurt.”

  “No!” God no. Please no. I sent her away, and something happened to her.

  I hear the anger in his voice when he responds. “You think I’d lie about something like this?”

  “How?” I ask, pushing the women off me again, and signaling the waitress for my check.

  “She got in a bad Uber, and had to jump out. Bystanders called her an ambulance when she hit her head on the curb, and was knocked unconscious. They’re with her now, but you’re going to go to her, and make sure she’s safe. Her driver is on the way, but I swear to God, if you are not there as fast as humanly possible, I am going to be done with you for good.”

  “Of course, I’ll be there,” I agree, signing the check and bolting out to my bike. I switch the Bluetooth in my helmet on, and take off. “Where is she?”

  He gives me the coordinates, and asks me to call him when I’ve got Beckham back to the apartment. He sounds unsure, and I hate that. I hate it more than almost anything, because he should never doubt I’d take care of her. No one should ever doubt that, but I’ve made it happen. Never again.

  Beckham is sitting in the back of an ambulance when I arrive. There’s a bandage on her temple, but she looks okay. If she wasn’t, I don’t know what I’d do. I push past the people all around her.

  “Beckham!”

  She looks up at me in surprise. “I can’t believe Matt called you.”

  “Of course, he called me.”

  “We broke up, Sully.”

  “You sent yourself that text.”

  “You wouldn’t have written it if you didn’t mean it. Just because I got a little hurt, it doesn’t change anything.”

  “No, I still love you.” I admit it to her, because I know it’s true.

  “Don’t say that. You’re freaked out about me, but you don’t mean it.”

  “I do mean it.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

  I deserve that. It doesn’t mean her words aren’t ripping me open right now, but I put that doubt in her mind. It’s on me to prove her wrong, and I will.

  Beckham

  My driver is here now, but Sully won’t leave. When the paramedic says I have a mild concussion, and have to be woken up every two hours, he says he’ll stay with me. I don’t want him to stay with me, but at the same time I do. He said he loves me, and I think he believes he does right now, but what happens when I’m better? When his guilt is gone, and he goes back to the clubs—and the other women. No, I can’t allow myself to believe he loves me.

  “The driver is going to wait with you at the apartment until I’m back. I’ll pick up your prescription, but is there anything else you need?”

  Yes, but I don’t want to tell him. I know I have to, but I don’t want to after her sent me away. “Food. I couldn’t eat on the plane this morning, because the sun was up already.”

  His eyes go wide. “You’re still observing?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you want? Whatever it is, I’ll find it.”

  “Anything but snails, fish eggs, or frog legs. You know what I like.”

  “I do. I’ll see you soon.”

  He kisses me on the top of the head, and I shamelessly lean into him a little. He smells so good, and I’m so tired. I just want to eat and sleep. Maybe sleep first, but either is fine right now.

  Back at the apartment, there are guards who weren’t here earlier. The Uber guy had my address, and came by already, trying to get in. Matt told me he’s ‘been dealt with’, but he isn’t taking any chances. I’m not complaining, because I don’t want to ever see that guy—or anyone associated with him—again. If I hadn’t called Matt, I could be in a sex dungeon somewhere right now. Or worse. I don’t know what’s worse, but I’m sure there’s something.

  That thought alone has me stripping out of my clothes, and taking a hot shower. The water is almost scalding, but I feel like I escaped something most people can’t even fathom. I was stupid, because I was hurt. I’ve got to start letting my head be in charge, and ignore my heart. That damn muscle only hurts me.

  When I come out, wrapped in a fluffy robe, Sully has a mini-feast laid out on the coffee table. Pizza, pasta, garlic bread, and two kinds of cheesecake are waiting for me.

  “Do you need your medicine? The pharmacist said you should eat with it. Is the food okay? Should I get you something else? How was your shower? Do you want to lie down? I can bring the food to you.”

  I place my hand over his mouth. “The food is perfect, I’ll be fine sitting on the couch, the shower was okay, and I�
�ll take the medicine in a few minutes.”

  He nods, and steps away from me. “Will you be okay if I go shower? I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

  I make myself a plate with a little of everything, and settle in to eat. Sully is back before I’ve gotten to the cheesecake, and he looks at the food like it’s a snake that’s going to bite him.

  “Eat,” I tell him.

  “I’ll eat later. I stay up all night, anyway.”

  “I’m going to sightsee tomorrow, since Matt wants me to wait a day to fly, so I won’t be here to bother you when you sleep.”

  “Would you like some company?”

  Yes. No. “Maybe.”

  “I need to call Matt, and take care of a few things. Just leave the food, and I’ll put it away.”

  “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “Always.”

  I finish my food, then slide into the bed in the master bedroom. The pillows smell like Sully, and I’m not ashamed to say, I hold one close to me, as I close my eyes.

  Sully wakes me up every couple of hours, and when it’s close to sunrise, he has a tray with him. “Are those fresh croissants?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you find them so early?”

  “There are bakeries serving the Muslim community during the holy month. I know you want to experience Paris, and part of that is croissants, and pan au chocolat.”

  “You didn’t have to go out and get them for me.”

  “Everything I do for you, I do because I want to.”

  Damn him, and his sweet, hidden heart. “Thank you.”

  There are also eggs, and potatoes for me. I scarf down what I can, as Sully eats from a plate by the window. He’s not pushing me, and not forcing himself on me, and my heart is starting to fight my brain for dominance.

  I fall asleep after I eat, and the sun is out when I wake up again. Sully is standing at one of the windows, looking like he’s trying to figure out what to do, and I want to go to him. His white shirt is unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of the light smattering of hair over his pecs. Stubble is scattered over his jaw, and his hair is beautifully mussed.

  “Have you slept at all?”

  “No,” he tells me, still looking outside.