Back in Black (36 page)

She covered her face, nodded.

Drew waited, but when he heard the sirens approaching, he said, “Woman, I really wish you’d tell me that you love me, too.”

Nodding hard, she dropped her hands. “I do.” She touched his face with trembling hands. “I love you.”

Feeling light-headed, Drew stretched out on his back on the ground. “Huh. That was almost worth getting shot, just to hear you say it.”

 

 

OFFICER Sparks was on the scene, directing everyone with efficient authority. Brett slumped down on the ground next to Audrey. It had been one hell of a day. Not only had his past caught up to him, but everything he owned was now gone.

Except for his cat.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against a brick wall. When he thought of Audrey going into that old house . . . His hands curled into fists and his jaw tightened. The building had probably gone up like dry leaves, it was so old and so badly maintained.

Audrey sat silently beside him, still sad, probably exhausted. She, too, had been through the wringer.

Early in life, he’d learned how easy it was to walk away when things weren’t to his liking. When his father left, he’d rejoiced. When his mom sank so low that she’d become a stranger to him, he’d blocked out any hurt and written her from his life. He’d worked hard to be the person he wanted to be, polite, educated, above the trash that had been his environment. But he’d never gotten so closely connected to another human being that he or she mattered. He’d never wanted to care to the point that he couldn’t walk away.

With Audrey . . .

He turned his head to look at her. “You really don’t mind if I stay with you?”

Burdened with uncertainty, she said, “I would like it very much.”

Brett nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” He stood and held a hand out for her. After he helped her back to her feet, he just stood there, looking at her, marveling at how she’d captured so much of him, so soon, when he’d never thought it possible.

He turned to look around at the chaos. Poor Roger was beside himself. Too much had happened at his establishment for his peace of mind. Simon Evans and Dean Conor stood talking to him. Off to the side, Gregor and his wife stood talking to Dickey Thompson.

It seemed no matter what, Roger’s place would remain the hangout.

Both Drew and Millie were taken away by ambulance, Millie unconscious, Drew bitching up a storm. Gillian, bless her, was about to follow.

“Come on.” Brett took Audrey’s hand and hustled her along with him. Not for anything did he want to let her out of his sight. Bullets and fires and lunatics . . . he had to keep her close for his own peace of mind.

“Where are we going?”

He nodded toward Gillian. “She’s a mess. She shouldn’t try driving herself to the hospital.”

Audrey agreed, and even freed herself from Brett to run ahead and catch Gillian before she got in her car.

Gillian’s relief was palpable. She hugged Audrey and agreed. Even from a short distance, Brett could see her shaking, and there was no mistaking the mascara tracks left by her tears.

So that they’d all fit, they took Audrey’s car rather than Brett’s truck, but he drove. Gillian climbed into the backseat without a word, and then she fretted all the way to the hospital.

Brett glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “He’ll be okay, Gillian.”

She nodded. “I know. Thank you.” As they pulled up to the hospital, she said, “Will you just drop me at the door?”

“We could come in and keep you company,” Audrey offered.

But Gillian refused her. “You look as wiped out as I feel, and besides, Drew won’t like an audience while he’s not one hundred percent.”

Brett figured she was right about that. “Will you call us if either of you needs anything?”

She smiled, wiped at her eyes as more tears seeped out. “I’m being ridiculous, I know, but if that bullet had done more damage . . .” She shuddered. “Even after I stopped denying how I felt, I didn’t want to tell Drew. I thought if he didn’t know, I could protect myself. But that was just plain foolish.”

Brett pulled up in front of the main doors and put the car in park. “Looking back is a waste of time, Gillian. Believe me, I know.”

Pausing in her exit from the car, Gillian tipped her head and studied him. “If we never look back, we might avoid dwelling on bad times, but we miss out on fond memories, too. It’s always a balance.” She reached up and touched Brett’s shoulder. “But the most important thing is to face the future without letting the past get in the way.”

And with that sage advice thrown out there, she got out of the car and came around to Audrey’s window. “Thank you both again.”

Brett watched her hustle into the hospital, shoulders back and stride proud, despite what she’d just been through.

After a second, Brett let out a breath. “She’s right, you know.”

Audrey nodded but didn’t quite look at him. “I’m looking forward to a future . . . with you.”

His heart damn near broke in two. Gillian made so much sense that now he saw how he’d almost let the past cheat him of a future. He caught Audrey and pulled her half over the console so he could kiss her.

The lingering scent of smoke wrenched him, reminding him of how easily he could have lost her.

With his forehead against hers, he whispered, “Before, when I said I was falling in love with you?”

She said nothing, just closed her eyes.

“I lied, Audrey. I fell a long time ago, almost from the first time you kissed me.” He put a few inches between them so he could see her face. “I love you.”

Her arms wrapped tight around him. “Let’s go home, Brett. Spice is waiting for you.”

 

 

THREE MONTHS LATER

 

DREW sat beside Brett after he’d achieved an impressive knockout the night before. Drew’s arm had healed pretty fast and only a slight scar remained as a reminder of that awful night. Gillian was now officially his fiancée, and she’d already given up her apartment to live with him full-time.

Millie was still being evaluated, though how it could take so long, Drew couldn’t fathom. Anyone could see she was loony. At least they kept her in a high-security facility while the court system worked it all out.

Brett and Audrey were now an item, too. The romance hadn’t negatively affected Brett at all. He was the same hard worker, with the same dedication. But now, more often than not, he had Audrey at his side.

Surrounded by media, flashing lights, and fans, Drew gave a few statements about his plans for Brett in the SBC and then took questions.

Of course, as always, some asshole couldn’t resist asking about Brett’s background. They wouldn’t give up on that and it drove Drew nuts. He’d already banned two persistent reporters who couldn’t refrain.

Drew thought about what he wanted to say, knew Gillian and Fran would both be watching, and decided, what the hell? Sometimes a rough edge was needed.

Staring out at the crowd, Drew said, “Fuck the past. Fighters like Brett are the future of the SBC, and that’s what we’re here to talk about.”

Brett leaned forward. “Let’s put this to rest, okay?” Relaxed, sincere, and comfortable, he gave a brief accounting of his parents’ woes and his dysfunctional childhood. He blew it off as it pertained to him, but then, while he had everyone’s attention, he announced a new charity that he’d started to help abused and abandoned kids.

That inspired lots of personal questions, and Brett fielded them all with information on how others could contribute to help kids in need.

Once the questions died down, Drew covered the mic with his hand and said, “You sly dog. Well played.”

Brett grinned. “It was my and Audrey’s idea to start the charity, but it was Gillian’s idea for me to announce it when the personal questions started again. It not only deflects off of me, it brings some publicity to kids in need.”

He should have known. “Damn,” Drew said. “Smart women are so fucking hot.”

Brett laughed as he pushed back his chair.

Drew led the way out of the back of the press room. He was glad that Brett had finally come to grips with his past and was looking to the future.

“Love the charity idea,” he told Brett. “I’ll donate cash, of course, but let’s have dinner with the ladies to talk about anything else you need.”

“Thanks.” Brett gave him a nod. “Gillian said you already support a boys’ home. She figured you’d want in on this, too.”

“Yeah, well, Gillian tends to see the best in me. It’s thanks to her that I’m back in black.” He clapped Brett on the shoulder. “The future couldn’t look any better.”

Brett agreed.

I
T was the perfect day for a wedding. Too bad the groom didn’t show up.

Faith West shivered in the beam of May sunlight streaming through a small window in the bridal anteroom of the historical Chicago Gold Coast church. Fingering the rich white satin skirt of her wedding dress, she sat very still, unable to believe this was really happening to her. Alan Anderson, the man she’d agreed to marry, was late for his own wedding.

There had to be a reasonable explanation for Alan’s absence—car trouble, a dead cell phone, maybe even an accident, heaven forbid.

Faith caught sight of herself in the large mirror on the opposite wall. A few wisps of her brown hair had escaped the confines of her upswept hairstyle, and her blue eyes appeared haunted despite her perfect makeup. Did she look like the kind of woman a man would leave at the altar? Possibly. She was certainly no raving beauty. She was just a librarian. A librarian with a rich private investigator father.

Faith’s family flitted around her like a skittish school of fish, coming and going—offering help, offering suggestions, offering vodka. She remained calm in the center of all the chaos, strangely distant from her surroundings. The reality was she was probably going into shock and should accept the offer of alcohol purely for medicinal purposes.

The question was: what would Jane Austen do in this situation? Whenever Faith was in trouble, she looked to her favorite author for the solution. And Faith was armpit deep in trouble at the moment.

“I bet you scared the poor man away,” Faith’s pain-in-the-butt aunt Lorraine interrupted Faith’s racing thoughts to declare. “A children’s librarian whose father taught her how to shoot a gun. A big mistake.”

Aunt Lorraine, also known as the Duchess of Grimness, was the bane of the West family’s existence. With her demonlike black hair and Hellboy eyes, she was scarier than anything written by Stephen King. Not exactly the model wedding guest, but Faith’s mom had insisted on inviting her.

For a wild second Faith wondered if Alan had stayed away because he was afraid of Aunt Lorraine, having met her for the first time at the rehearsal dinner the night before. Maybe
she
was the reason he hadn’t shown up. Could Faith really blame him for wanting to avoid Aunt Lorraine’s stinging barbs?

Hell yes, she could blame him! How could Alan leave her sitting here wondering what had happened to him? How could he be so cruel? How could anyone, aside from Aunt Lorraine, be that cruel?

Alan wasn’t just anyone. He was her fiancé—a reliable and respectable investment banker she’d known for two years. They’d been engaged for the past eleven months. They were perfectly suited for each other, sharing the same interests, values, and aspirations. Neither one of them was blinded by passion or prone to wild behavior.

That’s not to say that the sex between them hadn’t been good; it had been. Not great but good. She loved him. He loved her. Or so he’d said last night before kissing her.

Faith looked around. Someone had led Aunt Lorraine away. She was replaced by Alan’s shamefaced best man. “Alan just sent you a text message.”

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

Instead of answering her anxious questions, the best man hightailed it out of the room, heading for the nearest exit and no doubt the nearest bar.

“Where’s my BlackBerry?” Faith asked her maid of honor, her cousin Megan, who was like a sister to her. Faith and Megan were born two days apart, grew up within a few blocks of each other, and had been known to complete each other’s sentences. Their dads were brothers. Faith only had one bridal attendant and of course that was Megan.

“I’m sure Alan has a good reason for being late.” Megan had always been the optimist in the family. “Maybe he was in an accident. Your dad is still checking the area emergency rooms.”

Faith’s überworkaholic father owned the most successful investigative firm in Chicago. If Alan wasn’t in an emergency room, then her father would be tempted to put him in one.

“Where’s my BlackBerry?” Faith heard the edge of hysteria in her voice but couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Here. It’s right next to you.” Megan handed it to her. Sure enough, there was a text message from Alan that had been sent two minutes earlier.

Alan hadn’t left her because she could shoot a gun. He’d left because he didn’t think she was exciting enough. She’d scared him away by
boring
him to death.

“What did he say?” Megan demanded.

Her cousin was her best friend, but even so Faith was too humiliated to show her what Alan had written. Instead she turned the BlackBerry off with trembling fingers. “I’ve been dumped in a text message,” she said unsteadily. “And not just dumped, but left at the altar.”

“We never actually walked down the aisle.”

“Close enough.” Faith angrily wiped away the tears that were starting to stream down her face. “There are people waiting out there. Lots of them. And they’re all expecting a wedding.”