What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (34 page)

“You sure about
that?”

“I’m sure,
officer,” I say with a quickly developed attitude.

“No exes; no
ex-girlfriends?”

“No, none, officer.”

“I was in the bar
with Ms. Watts. We had a meeting and it may have been random.” The
officer looks at the damage and laughs a bit. “This doesn’t look
random. I’ll see if the bar has a security camera facing this lot.”

“Okay,” I say to
the officer, but turn and give Ford a disgusted look. I’m kind of
pissed that he’s kind of smart. But I’m not implying all police
officers are not smart. They have a cockiness about themselves which
makes them seem dumb sometimes. The ones who push paperwork or never
want to perform any legwork to make a difference or vise-versa. It’s
funny that they compete with each other. I thought they were all
working to achieve the same purpose… Protect and Serve. Riiiight

I hope Tripp can get to
the security cameras before the police department does. My phone
chimes, I quickly glance at it. It’s a message from Bryant.

Why would he text me
that? Although for a brief minute, I did forget, but he doesn’t
know that.

“Ford, I really have
to make these dinner plans with my best friend. You’ll have to take
me; I can get a ride home.” Ford rubs his face and chin.

“Bria, I don’t
know.” He has called me by my name since I’ve informed him of
what it was.

“This is just random,
Ford.” I shrug my shoulders. Only I know about the flat tires last
week.

“Are you sure?

“Yeah, I’ll be
fine.”

“Ms. Watts, your
license plates came back as vandalized a little over a week ago. You
had all flats one night, right?” Damn Barney Fife.

“Yeah, I forgot about
that.” I didn’t, I just don’t want Ford to overreact.

“Yeah, a C. King
called it in.”

“Really? He didn’t
tell me that he reported it.” What the hell?

“Well, he reported
it. You sure an ex didn’t do this?” the genius officer asks.

“I’m sure. If an ex
from high school could do this from Connecticut, he’d be the
world’s best criminal.”

“You sure you don’t
have a lover or anything?” Fucker is getting too personal.

“No, officer,” I
say, becoming a bit annoyed.

“Okay,” he says.
“We’ll call this random for now.”

“For now?” I
repeat.

“Yes. For now,” he
repeats after me. He seems to be the one who’s annoyed now.

Time seems to move in
reverse as we wait for the tow truck. The officer has finished what
looks to be a vandalism report. I stand feeling the chill of winter
blow through my pea coat. Minnesota is worse than Chicago in the
winter. When it’s cold be prepared for the frigid, crisp air. Holy
hell, when it’s hot everything on your body is annoying. Not sure
why anyone would want to move from here to there or vise-versa.

Must be something
anatomically wrong with him. God, why is he a thought? I’m brought
out of my reverie when the officer approaches me.

“Ms. Watts, if
anything else like this arises, please feel free to contact me.”
The officer hands me his card. It says Officer L. Chance badge #249.
I look up at the officer as I try to stifle a chuckle after noticing
his name.

Ford ushers me back to
his vehicle; he lifts me up by my waist this time so that I’m
standing on the step level. It catches me by surprise and I squeal.

“Warn me next time
please.” He laughs as he closes the door before he walks back to
the driver side.

“Where’s your
friend?”

“He’s at Nona
Rosa’s.” Ford turns to me so that I can see his face fully.

“Are you serious,
Bria?”

“Yeah, Nona Rosa’s.”

“No, your best friend
is a
he
?”

“Well, yeah, Bryant,
he was at the club with us that night.”

“Which one?” He
sighs as if he is irritated.

“Um, dirty blonde
hair.”

“The asshole who
tried to hit me.”

“What?”

“Yeah, the fucker
took a swing at me when I delayed them from getting to you that
night.”

“Right.” I wince,
as I’m looking at Ford with an apologetic look. “I owe you.” I
rub his shoulders for assurance.

“Yeah, you do.” He
smirks. “The other was shitfaced. He gave me $100 to let them go.”

“Did you?”

He laughs. “I took
the bill but the valet lost their keys.”

“Nice.”

“I was also off my
shift,” he says.

I laugh as I nod in
approval.

We’re a bit early.
The restaurant looks crowded for 7:45. I had Ford take me by my house
before coming to the restaurant, so I could freshen up a bit. I only
changed my blouse and spritzed my hair.

Ford insists he’ll
stay in the truck. I joke with him and ask if he wants to come in to
make sure everything is clear.

“Ford, I can go ahead
and go in so you get home.”

“I’m not busy
tonight, so I’ll wait around until your party shows.” Just as
quickly as he says it, Bryant pulls up in his Benz. I’ve never been
a fan of Mercedes, but Bryant makes it look good. He gets out looking
like a businessman. He’s dressed nice. Oh, why did I fuck Cruz? I
really wouldn’t mind a Bryant sex-session tonight. I can’t seem
to shake this feeling I’m having. I’m feeling a bit hot as I
break out in sweat. Even pleasing myself wasn’t enough. I’m
hornier than normal just sitting on this plush leather. I’m
squeezing my thighs together and creating a sensation that needs to
be unleashed. Oh, my God!

“Boss, are you okay?
You look funny.” Ford breaks me from my thoughts.

“I’m fine, Ford.
There’s my party. I’ll let you know when I make it home.”

“Okay, don’t
forget,” he says while getting out of his truck to let me out.
Bryant has gotten out of his car; he notices Ford helping me down
from the truck. He starts to walk toward us and he looks upset. I
walk ahead so that he and Ford have no contact.

“Hey, Bryant.” I
smile to distract him. Bryant has always liked my smile; he says it’s
attractive.

“Hey, Bree.” He
hugs and kisses me on the cheek. “Why are you… um, where’s your
car?”

“I’ll tell you
inside; let’s go.” I turn to Ford, who’s now walking back
around to the driver’s side. I mouth, “thank you.”

* * *

The restaurant smells
divine. I absolutely love Italian food. It goes well with wine. Red
wine. We are seated right away despite being early. We are in a
private booth away from the front door near the bar.

“You still mad at
me?”

“I am.”

“Bree, come on. We
have been in each other’s lives for like fifteen years, you can’t
take this seriously.”

“Bryant, you made me
part of the deal. Would you like it if I pawned you off and made you
a boy toy for someone?”

He chuckles. “I’d
thank you.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say
quietly.

“Bree, look, I’m
apologizing to you the best way I know how. Usually we’ll choose a
make-up movie, order takeout, and you know. That fixes things.”

He’s right; that’s
how our make-ups go.

“I’m not sure this
time, Bryant. You really hurt me.”

“You hurt me too,
Bree.”

“How did I hurt you,
Bryant?” He holds up two fingers, that’s his way of telling me
how many times.

“Name them…”

“I wasn’t enough
for you.”

“What? Bryant, stop
it.”

“Bria, I don’t do
it for you. You know it’s true.”

“What’s the other?”
I ask him quickly, trying to change the subject.

“You fucking slapped
me hard that day and it hurt.” He says, and starts to laugh.

I can’t hold it in. I
begin to laugh too. “I hate you right now” I jokingly confess.

“I know,” he says
while taking my hands.

“So this deal is
happening Tuesday,” I say.

“I know it’s
happening so fast, Bria. It’s one of the biggest deals ever.”

“I don’t need to be
there, right?”

“No, I can email you
the final plans to look over. Cruz is prepping his family as we
speak. I just want to take this time to square everything away with
you. Our friendship means the world to me, Bria. I can’t lose you
to my selfish decisions.”

“Do you think you can
save the company?”

“Oh, absolutely,”
he scoffs.

The waitress brings
bread and two glasses of water. We haven’t even looked over our
menus. No need for me to. I’m aware what my meal will be tonight.

“Are you two ready to
order?” the waitress asked.

“Yes, I am,” I say.

“Go ahead, I’ll
have my order ready when you’re done,” Bryant tells us.

I order a starter
bruschetta, lemon-blackened salmon with penne in butter-garlic sauce.
I order a glass of Sweet Red just to take the edge off tonight.
Bryant orders something I’ve never heard of with an entire bottle
of Sweet Red. Bryant and I talk for about two hours. I find out he
and Cruz have been talking every day. He hasn’t contacted me after
he took me in such a way… my body’s starving for him right now.
Just the thought of what he performed on me last night has my cheeks
flushing red. Bryant must notice it because he calls me on it.

“You’re awfully red
this evening.”

I shake my head. “I’m
fine. I think it’s because we’ve drunk two bottles of wine.
Bryant, are you okay to drive?”

“I didn’t drink any
wine, Bree.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He shakes his head.
“No, I didn’t. I have to go sixty days without alcohol or drugs
in my system. I won’t have to go to rehab; that’s the main goal.”

“The club the other
night?”

He shakes his head.

“I thought you were
drinking?”

“I had a club soda,
maybe a few cokes, but no alcohol. Although Cruz was shitfaced, he
still had enough sense to tell me that I better not try anything with
you because he was wasted.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“So, Bria. What are
you doing, really?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Vodka bar? The
guy’s truck you got out of?”

I don’t usually lie
to Bryant, but I do what I normally do when he asks me anything I
don’t want to disclose.

“You know Mr. Wilke
has me doing quite a few things for him.”

“Right.” He nods.
“So these guys are just work-related?”

“Yes, they are. Ford
is actually a driver; that’s who I called after my car was keyed.”

“That’s weird,
first your tires. Now it’s been keyed.”

“I know,” I say,
sipping more wine.

“When Cruz told me
someone flattened your tires, I got worried.”

“Why?”

“I thought it could
be Cass.”

“Oh, I didn’t think
about that. She was with you though,” I inform him.”

“Bree, I’m not sure
where she was after she left the hospital.”

“I was on my way to
you when we found it like that. I don’t know. Why would she come
there before calling us? It doesn’t make sense.”

He shrugs. “I don’t
know, Bree. I wonder how long they were like that?”

“I don’t know. I
was in the house most of the day.”

“I bet.”

“What is that
supposed to mean?”

“Bree, I know you
were with Cruz that night.”

“No, I wasn’t. We
still hadn’t gone down that road yet, Bryant. He just gave me
head.”

“Whoa, what?”

“No, we didn’t have
sex that night.”

He laughs. “He was so
relentless about having you.”

“You talked about it
with him?”

“Well, kind of,” he
admits.

“Oh, my God, Bryant,
we barely know the guy.” I’m convinced I’m tipsy now. My words
are slurring.

“You can’t be
serious. Bree, look, I’m sorry about all of this. It’s all
working out for the better. Tuesday will come and go; this thing will
be a part of the past. Let’s get you home.”

“No, let’s go
dancing,” I say excitedly.

He scrunches his face.
“You don’t dance. I mean you do, but you aren’t random with
it.” He pauses for a second. “Okay,” he says. “Dancing it
is.”

I must be exhausted
when I get into Bryant’s car; that or the two bottles of wine have
taken over my body. I’m asleep before he even pulls away from the
restaurant.

“Bree.” I’m
shaken out of my sleep. I look up, focusing my eyes. “Where are
we?”

“My house, you fell
asleep before we were out of the restaurant parking lot.”

“Oh, was I really?”
He gives me an ‘it’s obvious you just woke up’ look.

“Okay, let me get my
heels back on, no dancing tonight.” I’m still slurring my words.
I feel like I sound ridiculous.

“No, Bree, you are
exhausted. Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

I’m barely walking
when Bryant lifts me up over his shoulder.

“Bryant! My ass!”

“It’s nice, Bree,
stop fishing for compliments.” He smacks me on the ass hard.

“Ow! Bryant!” He
has no clue he’s just awakened my libido. No, no, my arousal is
instant. I feel my center getting moist.
No,
no, you can’t get excited, I mentally tell my lower lady part.
Bryant lowers me slowly. It doesn’t matter the room is still
spinning.

“Bryant, I need
water.”

“Okay, hold on,
Bree.” He leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later. He
gives me two pills I suspect are Tylenol and a tall glass of water.

“Drink,” he demands
and I do as he places each pill on my tongue. He takes the glass then
leaves the room. I make my way to the wall so I can remove my heels.
That’s when I realize I’m in Bryant’s room. Why am I here? He
usually lets me sleep in the guest room. It’s fine. I’ll just go
there. I attempt to walk out the door.

“No go,” he says as
he enters the room.

“Whaa, I’m going to
bed, Bry.”

“I know, in here.”
He points his bed.

“All right,” I say
in defeat. I’m standing against the wall attempting to unfasten my
blouse in the back. Bryant stands there and stares before he turns me
around. I can feel the heat from his body. He’s still in his dress
shirt and slacks. He unlatches the contraption of a blouse.