The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3 (17 page)

As soon as he could, he dodged across the street and ran to the building entrance. The double glass doors were locked, of course. They rattled when Trey tried yanking on them. Giving up, he rapped hard on the glass, peering inside to see if there was a doorman.

There was. An older man, dressed in a uniform, ambled toward the doors, his expression hovering between annoyance and curiosity. He hit an intercom button nearby. “Can I help you?”

“A guy named Collin Cassidy just came in. With a woman.”

The doorman was no dummy. He neither acknowledged nor denied Trey’s statement. Trey thought of everything he knew about doormen in buildings like this. They were paid to assist and protect the tenants by limiting access to the building.

How could he convince the man to give him access? The guy was older. Probably had a family. Children. Grandchildren, maybe. “That woman? That’s my—”
what?
Trey thought wildly.
Little sister? Cousin? Girlfriend?
“—sister. Did you see her?”

This was taking too long, but Trey had to be patient. He had to say the right thing or the doorman might walk away and leave him standing there.

“I saw a woman come in with one of the tenants.”

“Tall, slender, dark hair? Kind of pretty?”

The guy nodded.

“Look, I’m afraid—”
What? What would work here? The truth? A lie?
He decided to go with a lie. “Okay, the truth is she’s my sister and I love her, but she’s a bit of a psychopath. She pretends to get drunk. As soon as she’s alone with the guy she usually ties him up and takes some compromising pictures she can use for blackmail. If the guy won’t pay, she posts the pictures on the Internet. I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. I turn my back for one second and she’s gone. She headed straight to the bar to find her next mark. My mother’s going to kill me if I let her pull this stunt again—”

The door buzzed briefly and the doorman pushed it open. Trey could hardly believe his luck. “Look, buddy, you better be telling the truth. My ass is on the line here—”

Trey pressed several bills into the breast pocket of the man’s jacket. “Trust me, that guy is going to get down on his knees and thank you for letting me in in time to stop her. What apartment?”

“Twelve B.”

Trey started past him, but the guy blocked him. “You get your sister and you get out. That’s it. You get into an altercation with the tenant or anything like that, you and me got a problem.
Capisce
?”

Trey nodded. The doorman stepped aside.

The elevator bumped to a stop on the twelfth floor and in seconds Trey pounded on 12B’s door. “Cassidy? Goddammit, if you’ve touched one hair on her head, I swear to God, I’ll—”

The door burst open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Collin glared at him and then switched his attention over Trey’s shoulder when a door across the hall opened.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Barry. My friend had too much to drink. Sorry to have disturbed you.”

Trey heard the door behind him click. He was barely aware of his fists flexing in anticipation of beating the hell out of Collin Cassidy. But he quelled that desire.

He took in Cassidy’s appearance. His shoes were off, his shirt untucked. Trey clenched his fists again. “Where’s Baylee?”

Cassidy stepped back and with a sweeping gesture, motioned Trey to enter.

The apartment wasn’t large from what Trey could see, but it was dimly lit. Baylee was slumped in the corner of a black leather sectional sofa in the living room. Most of the row of tiny buttons down the front of her dress were undone. He saw flashes of flesh, the black lace of her bra. The hem of the dress rode above her knees.

She barely acknowledged Trey’s presence even when he put his face close to hers and said her name. Her eyes weren’t focusing. She mumbled something incoherent.

“What’s wrong with her? How much did she have to drink?” He didn’t spare a glance in Cassidy’s direction. He started buttoning Baylee’s dress. “This the only way you can get a woman back to your place?”

“Of course not. But there are occasions when I find it more expedient,” Cassidy stated without a hint of remorse.

Trey slid a glance his way to find him leaning against the wainscoting in his stocking feet, arms crossed. Never in his life could Trey recall wanting to rearrange another man’s face as much as he wanted to at this moment. Not in all the games he’d played, not after all the bad calls, the sacks, the unsportsmanlike conduct he’d seen on the field. Not even when Spoley had pulled him over for speeding and handed him a sheaf of citations.

That had all been personal behavior directed at him. This was about someone else, and he was angrier on Baylee’s behalf than he’d ever been on his own. He’d figure out why later. Right now, all he wanted was to get her out of there, away from the scumbag standing less than ten feet away, into Hiram’s cab and back to the hotel.

He finished with the buttons and tugged the hem of her skirt down. One of her shoes had slid off her foot and he put it back on.

He stood and took the few steps needed to put him in Collin’s personal space. Collin straightened to a defensive posture. Trey clenched his fists but kept his cool. “Relax. I’m not going to beat the shit out of you even though it’s exactly what you deserve. What am I going to do is mention this incident to Charlie.”

“Tattletale,” Collin spat.

“I’m not sure when or in what context,” Trey went on using the same reasonable tone of voice, “but I will make certain he’s informed. Your contract probably has the same broad moral turpitude clause as mine. Which means the network can fire you for anything they deem as falling into that category. Anything that might embarrass them, create negative publicity or stimulate a lawsuit in regard to your professional or personal behavior.”

Trey inched a bit closer and lowered his voice. “I’ll be spending a lot of time here this fall. I’ll make it my personal business to keep an eye on you when I’m here. You don’t know me very well, so maybe you don’t know I’ve got a big mouth. I’ll tell every woman I see who comes within ten feet of you about what you tried to pull tonight. In fact, I probably won’t stop there. Hell, I’ll tell everyone.”

“Most of them won’t believe you and the others won’t care,” Collin sneered.

Trey raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. But you and I both know the only way to stop a rumor is by not adding fuel to the fire. Behave yourself and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

Trey turned back to Baylee. “Come on, baby.” He helped her up from the couch, and as soon as he did, her knees sagged. He kept her upright by using both arms to hold her against him.

He didn’t look at Collin or say anything else. He got Baylee out into the hallway and let the door slam behind him.

In the lobby the doorman hustled to hold the door open for them. He gave Trey a dubious look. “She don’t look like she’s in any condition to take pictures of anyone,” he said.

“Thanks for your help,” Trey said.

Hiram turned to look at them when Trey got into the backseat with Baylee. “She all right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I think she’ll be okay. Take us back to the hotel.”

Hiram nodded. Trey placed a grateful number of bills into Hiram’s hand when he dropped them off. Trey still had to half drag, half carry Baylee through the lobby to the elevator. He hoped the surreptitious looks he received from the staff and the few guests lingering about meant they understood Baylee’d had too much to drink, but he couldn’t concern himself with the thoughts of strangers.

In the room, he got Baylee to her bed. He pulled back the covers and laid her down. She was like a rag doll. It was a little scary and not at all a turn-on for him. He wondered how a guy like Cassidy could perform with a woman in such a state. Personally, Trey liked his sexual partners to be enthusiastic participants, not nearly comatose victims.

He slipped Baylee’s shoes off her feet. She could sleep in her clothes. He sure as hell wasn’t going to undress her.

He covered her with the sheet and supposed she’d sleep now. He had a feeling she was going to feel like hell during their trip home tomorrow.

The bedside alarm clock glowed three thirty-four in red when Trey came awake. He sat up, trying to figure out what had awakened him. Baylee’s bed was empty and he could see the glow of light surrounding the closed bathroom door. He pulled a T-shirt on over his pajama bottoms and listened for a moment outside the door. He heard water running and thought he heard her utter an unladylike oath.

“Baylee?” He tapped on the door. “You okay?”

She opened the door and stared at him. She had on those same sexy nightclothes from the previous evening, but frankly, she looked like hell. Her hair was a mess and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes themselves were red and puffy. Had she been crying? He hoped not. He hated to see a woman cry. Whatever he did or said always seemed to be the wrong thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her voice quavered. “I feel weird. I’m super thirsty and I’ve got the mother of all headaches.”

“Come on.” He led her back to her bed and tucked her in. “Did you take anything for the headache?”

“No. I don’t have anything to take.”

“I’ve got over-the-counter stuff. It might help.”

He went back to the bathroom and got his bottle of ibuprofen and filled a glass with tap water. The rage he’d felt earlier came back to boil below the surface. The image of Collin Cassidy’s face beaten and bloody, complete with a broken nose and a black eye and minus a few of those pretty white teeth, swam before his eyes. The thought of it sent an exultant river of potential satisfaction through him. But his concern now was the same as it had been before. Baylee’s welfare. He shook tablets into his hand and she took them, along with the entire cup of water.

“I keep drinking water, but it doesn’t seem to help. My mouth’s like a ball of cotton.”

He went back to the bathroom and filled the cup for her again. He opened the small refrigerator and found a sports drink and a bottle of water.

“I don’t know what you had to drink, but it’s got some nasty side effects.”

He opened the sports drink and handed it to her.

She took a gulp and massaged her temple with her fingers. “Everything’s kind of a blur.”

Trey sat on his bed across from her. “What do you remember?”

She thought for a moment. “Being at some club with Collin. He ordered me a drink. Something sweet that tasted like peaches. I went to the restroom.”

“Was the drink there when you came back?”

“He’d ordered another one for me.”

“Did you finish it?”

She frowned. “I don’t remember. But even if I did, I only had two drinks.” Her voice rose in her own defense.

He leaned forward, his gaze locked with hers. “Baylee, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I don’t understand. I shouldn’t be this messed up from two drinks. What aren’t you telling me? What did he do to me? What don’t I remember?”

Trey moved to the edge of her bed. He patted her calf through the sheet and kept his hand there, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. “He didn’t do anything. I—sort of busted up your date.”

“You did? You were there?”

“Yeah.”

“But if you hadn’t been—he could have—oh, Jesus. You told me not to go.”

Trey shrugged. As far as he was concerned, she never had to know how close Cassidy had come to getting away with whatever he had in mind. First thing in the morning he’d put in a call to Charlie.

“Nothing happened. We came back here. I stuck you in bed.”

“Thank you,” she told him, her voice a soft caress.

“My pleasure.” That was the truth. For the first time in a long time he got to be the hero instead of the failure. He patted her leg. “Drink up. Try to get some sleep.”

“Okay.” She chugged some more of the drink and then set it next to the water on the nightstand. She slid down beneath the covers.

Trey turned off the bathroom light and got into his own bed.

“’Night, Trey.”

“’Night.”

The sense of disorientation dogged Baylee the following day. She awoke to a fully dressed Trey pushing her shoulder back and forth with such force her entire body moved from side to side. Even so, getting her eyes open and her brain to kick into gear was like swimming up through a sea of mud.

Her head felt thick. Her ability to concentrate had deserted her. Somehow she’d managed, with Trey’s help, to get herself and her things together. Her eyes were sticky since she hadn’t removed her contacts the night before. She knew from looking in the mirror after her shower she looked like hell.

Oh, what did it matter, anyway? Trey wasn’t interested in her, and at the moment neither was any man other than Justin Spoley, whom she found to be a major turn-off, and Collin Cassidy, who apparently only wanted one thing from her and had used some truly questionable methods to try to get it. She shuddered every time she thought of what might have happened. But Trey had prevented it.

Trey also got how awful she felt. He didn’t try to carry on a conversation with her. He was more solicitous than usual, doing his best to make her comfortable.