Negligee Behavior (21 page)

“My brother’s going to kick your ass for this,” Elena screamed after them. “And by the way, your show sucks major dick!”

Brandy choked, almost convinced Gordon was about to turn around and shoot the girl for that last comment.

“I’m glad it got canceled!” she screamed again, right before Gordon dragged Brandy out the front door.

Canceled? His show had been canceled? The though flitted through her head, but was gone just as quickly as he forced her into an unfamiliar car.

She pushed aside the pizza box and sat down. Her pulse pounded and her hands shook. Why the hell did Gordon have a gun? Or better yet, why was he kidnapping her while using one?

He slid behind the wheel and she kept her attention trained on the gun still gripped in his hand.

She took a deep breath in.
Calm.
Stay calm.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to put herself back into teacher mode.

“Gordon,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “Perhaps you could fill me in on what’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” he snapped and started the car. A second later his foot slammed onto the accelerator. “You want to know what the hell’s going on?”

The car lurched forward and swerved onto the road.

“Yes. I really would.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your damn students.” He turned to look at her and gave a broad smile, his eyes glittering.

She swallowed hard, staring at his teeth. Shock ripped through her.

His veneers had a mustard yellow tint. And was that…was that
cheese
stuck between his bottom teeth? This man prided himself on a million dollar smile—as any dentist should. But these teeth—not to mention godawful breath—would never again sell a toothpaste ad.

Her unease increased. If Gordon’s mouth was this much of a mess, then she didn’t even want to know what was going on upstairs in his head.

“I’ll tell you, Brandy.” Gordon turned back to face the road and gave an unsteady laugh. “We’re going back to
The Hunk-A-Hunk-A Burning Love
chapel and we’re getting married.”

“Getting married?” she squeaked.

The man had kidnapped her at gunpoint and now wanted to force her to marry him? Gordon had
completely
gone off the deep end!

She reached for the handle of the door, fully prepared to jump before they got on the main road and started going faster than 35 mph. She curled her fingers around the handle, took a deep breath and then pulled. Nothing happened.

“Locked.”

She stared at him and tugged on the handle again.

“Gordon, what’s gotten into you?” she demanded. “You’re acting completely insane.”

“More like
who’s
gotten into
you
.” He swerved to the side of the road and leaned over, gripping her chin. “Did you have to make yourself look like a total whore to get him to screw you, Brandy?”

Shock ripped through her. Her stomach revolted at the look of vehemence and lust in his eyes. Who was this man? They may have dated for a year, but the man before her was a stranger.

“Get your hands off me.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to have fun breaking you in again, Brandy.” His smile turned nastier and his grip tightened. “I bet you learned some great tricks in bed from the bartender.”

“You piece of sh—”

He lurched forward and slammed his mouth across hers.

Brandy choked at the taste of grease and cigarettes. Planting her palms against his chest, she shoved him away and gagged.

She turned her head to the side, dry heaving, and her gaze landed on the road—and the car just passing them.

Marco and his dad. She turned in her seat, trying to wave him down, but Gordon slammed her back against the seat and hit the gas again.

“That’s right, love muffin. We’re getting married. And then we’re going to stop at the bank.”

“The bank? You want to stop at the bank?”

“I owe someone a little bit of money.”

“So pay them.”

“Show got canceled.” He lifted his hand and bit the nail on his thumb, spitting the piece onto the floor. “And I’m flat broke.”

Scooting to the edge of the seat, as far away from him as possible, she stared in complete disbelief at the man in front of her. What was with these habits he’d picked up. Nail-biting? Smoking? Deciding brushing his teeth was optional?

“How can you be broke? You’ve been on that show for a couple of years. You should have plenty of—”

“I had some bad luck a couple nights gambling,” he snapped and then moved on to bite the nail on his next finger.

Brandy blinked and drew a slow breath in. The parts of the puzzle all fell into place. Gordon had lost his job. Gordon had a gambling problem. And the most obvious why-the-hell-hadn’t-she-seen-it-before part…Gordon also happened to be dating her. A plain-Jane worth billions.

“I can’t believe you,” her voice dropped an octave. “All this time we dated, were you ever interested in anything but my money?”

Gordon looked over at her again and scowled. “Of course I was.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He bit into another nail. “I wanted access to the same social circles your parents are part of. No matter how famous I became, it didn’t matter, nobody let me in. Just slammed the elitist door in my face.”

How had it ever been a question of why she couldn’t love him?

Between gritted teeth she muttered, “Yes, well you see if our friends let every person who landed themselves a spot on a reality show into their lives, they’d be renting out the state of California just to have a party.”

Gordon’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red. “You dumb bitch. You think you’re so much better than me. Always have. Well, you’re not. And neither is that punk bartender.”

“Marco is three times the man you are,” she fired back. “And you know nothing about him.”

“I know enough.” He snorted and pulled the car onto the highway. “He’s an idiot. The man had a huge career on the rise. The most impressive defense attorney in Nevada, they said. The Ruthless Rookie they called him.”

Marco had been a defense attorney? “And just how do you know all this?”

“How do you
not
?” He laughed suddenly. “Oh, that’s great. He didn’t tell you any of this, did he? Apparently you were good enough to sleep with, but not good enough to get the chat about his past.” He clucked his tongue. “Poor Brandy. I hope you didn’t really care for this guy.”

“Go to hell.” She turned to look out the window. Why
hadn’t
Marco told her any of this?

“So you probably have no clue about his glorious downfall.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She gritted her teeth. This was not a conversation she should be having with Gordon.

“So his last case? Yeah, he’s defending some boy band singer accused of rape.”

“I’m not listening.”

“The case was cut-and-dry, should have nailed the bastard.” He leaned over into her face and laughed. “He got the guy off on some obscure technicality.”

She didn’t want to give the Gordon the satisfaction of reacting, but knew what was coming next wouldn’t be good.

“Anyway, that’s not the best part. The best part?” Gordon laughed harder. “The woman who was raped? She offed herself. Jumped off an overpass during rush hour. Isn’t that great?”

Brandy’s eyes squinted shut, her heart pounding furiously in her chest.
Oh God. Oh God
. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

“Apparently he didn’t handle it very well,” Gordon went on, ignoring her. “Quit the field of law and went underground. No one could figure out what the hell happened to him. To the Ruthless Rookie.”

He leaned over again, and she could feel his breath hot on her face. She swatted at his head and arched back into the door.

“But that all changed yesterday. When they stumbled upon you at that bar, and all they had to do was dig a little to discover just who owned the joint.” He gave a musical laugh. “It was kind of a coming-out party for you both, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

Gordon’s laughter increased. “That’s priceless. I can’t believe you just said fuck.”

Oh, God.
The guilt and pain Marco must have felt. No wonder he hadn’t shared this part of himself with her. He’d probably buried that piece of his life long ago.

“You know it’s amazing. You really have changed, love muffin. You’ve got this spunk in you—though, I can’t say I like it all that much.” He sighed. “Two weeks holed up with some defense attorney-turned-bartender and you’ve suddenly grown a spine.”

She bit down on her lip, refusing to be goaded by him anymore.

“Hmmph.” He went quiet for a moment. “Are you hungry? There’s some pizza left in that box. It’ll only take another half hour or so before we get to the chapel.”

Brandy stared at him, the shocking conversation about Marco subsiding a bit. “You can’t be serious about this, Gordon.”

“Serious about what?”

“This marrying me thing. I wouldn’t marry you if you—”

“Put a gun to your head?” He looked at her, his mouth tight. “Because if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

“Why?” Her voice rose. “I’ll just tell the Elvis minister I’m not willing. I’ll say no.”

“Then I’ll shoot him too.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Maybe.”

“Gordon…” She drew in a deep breath, hoping to reason with him. “You do realize that by kidnapping me you’ve committed a felony. If you take me back now, I promise I’ll just forget this little incident happened.”

“Okay, you know what? This conversation is over.” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel and shook his head. “We’re getting married. What part of that don’t you understand? We’ll be good together, Brandy. We were before. And now that you’ve fixed yourself up a bit, I think we’ll do just fine in the bedroom.”

The thought of sleeping with Gordon again was enough to make her throw up a little in her mouth. His temper spiked considerably the more she tried to talk him out of it. She chewed on her lip to avoid saying anything more.

Marco had seen them driving by. Surely he’d find Elena and she’d explain what had happened. He’d find her. She closed her eyes, her heart thudding extra hard in her chest. He had to. And when he did, and had her safely removed from Gordon the psycho, then they could talk and straighten things out.

Marco stared out the windshield in stoic silence. He fought the nausea building in his stomach.

His dad cleared his throat. “That almost looked like your sweetheart in that car that passed.”

Marco drew in a deep breath and said flatly, “I didn’t notice.”

The hell he hadn’t. He’d spotted those brown curls from halfway down the road. Suspecting it was her, his confirmation had come when they’d pulled alongside the blue sedan—just in time to see Gordon lean in to kiss her.

Why had she done it? Gone back to him? From the entire time they’d been together she’d insisted she was done with him.

That’s before she found out you’d been lying to her.

His mouth tightened into a grim slash. Well, maybe not outright lied, but failure to mention his past could be perceived as lying.

When he’d called her and she’d asked about the firm, his heart had nearly stopped. All the anxiety and guilt had rushed to the surface. Guilt for where his former career had led him, and guilt for not sharing that time of his life with Brandy.

She had every right to be angry. After all she’d shared about her past and her own fears.

And he’d heard the betrayal in her voice. The shock. And then that one word.
Gordon
. She had sounded surprised, but not necessarily displeased.

Yes, definitely not displeased, you dumb ass. Seeing as you just witnessed her kissing him.
Kissing him after she’d so obviously just left him.

“That lady in the car,” his dad went on. “That couldn’t have been your Brandy. Because she was, er… with that other guy.”

Marco’s stomach churning increased tenfold. His dad wanted reassurance that they hadn’t just seen Brandy. That the woman who’d so obviously claimed Marco’s heart, and had already charmed his sister and father, hadn’t just left Marco for another man.

He couldn’t give his dad that assurance. Hell, the evidence had been right in front of them.

“Maybe you’d better let me out here,” he said, not altogether certain he wasn’t going to get sick. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

“Marco.” His dad’s voice gentled. “Ah, damn it all to hell. That was her, wasn’t it?”

“Dad, could you just pull over. I need some air.”

His dad slowed the car with a sigh, but before Marco could open the door, he hit the gas again.

“No,” Alfredo said with a firm shake of his head. “Elena is still at the house, maybe Brandy left a message.”

“And I know exactly what the message would be.” His words came out harshly. “You lied to me, so go to hell.”

“No. Brandy? She’s not like that, son.”

Marco shook his head. “I never told her, dad. About any of it.” He sighed. “She thought I was just some random bartender who could give her a good time. She never signed up for this.”

“Signed up for what?” His dad cast him a quick look. “The woman fell in love with you.”

“She doesn’t love me—”

“The hell she doesn’t!”

Marco reared back at the vehemence in his father’s tone.

“I know what a woman in love looks like, and Brandy was head over feet for you, boy.”

Marco’s lips twitched. “Head over heels.”

“That’s what I said.”

How could he have forgotten? One of the last comments she’d made had been in regards to the man she loved being an illusion.

His blood pounded harder and his hands curled into fists. Was it possible? Had Brandy fallen in love with him?

The past couple of weeks had certainly seemed to send them both spiraling down that road of love—like it or not.

But that was before Brandy had discovered he’d been keeping a major part of his life from her. What kind of relationship could be built on that? How would she ever trust him again?

“Stop it, Marco,” his dad said harshly. “I know where you’re going with those thoughts, so just stop it.”

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. Knowing about my own past makes me sick to my stomach. How can I expect her to look at me any differently?” he asked, emotion thickening his voice. “For God’s sake, someone killed herself because of me.”

“
Not
because of you,” his dad shot back sharply. “And don’t you ever imply that again. You were not the reason that woman to killed herself.”

Marco bit his tongue, not wanting to go down that familiar road. Hell, this was the first time since he’d changed careers that he’d seriously dug into the topic of his former life at all.

“I hope you never thought I believed that about you.” His dad’s face was a mask of pain. “That you were the reason that woman died.”

“No. Of course not.” Though Marco spoke the words, he wasn’t so sure how much he believed them.

“I think part of you does,” his dad said thickly. “I’m damn sorry for the way I treated you when you came to tell me of your decision. Sure, it was a shock, but that didn’t give me the right to say the things I did.”

“It’s all right, Dad.”

On the drive over to the store, they’d already hashed all this out. Got their apologies in order and put aside their falling-out. Marco’s throat tightened and he exhaled slowly. But now, the raw emotion in his father’s voice really sank in.

Alfredo pulled the car into the driveway of the house and turned off the engine.

“Let’s go find out what Elena can tell us.”

Grabbing the handle, Marco pushed open the door to the car and bit back a sigh. Whatever Elena had to say, it couldn’t be much.

Before they even reached the front porch, the sound of angry screams and cursing reached them.

Marco stepped past his father and he pushed open the door to the house.

“Is that you guys?” Elena screamed from the other room. “Marco? Get in here and untie me!”

Untie her?

Marco’s pulse went into double time, his mouth drying out. He broke into a run and rounded the corner into the living room.

Elena sat tied to one of the kitchen chairs, her eyes flashing with rage and fear.

“That crazy fucking dentist took her, Marco. He came in here with a gun!”

A near debilitating panic swept through him; his gut twisted with guilt.
Damn
. He hadn’t even given her the benefit of the doubt. How could he have been so stupid to assume she’d have gone willingly?

“I swear to God, Hollywood breeds the craziest assholes. He’s got a big gambling problem, you know. I bet he took her for her money.”

“How do you know he has a gambling problem?” Marco made quick time undoing the knots and freed Elena from the chair.

She rubbed her wrists and shook her head. “It was in that article about Brandy this morning. His show got canceled too.” She paused, her look incredulous. “Did you even read the article, Marco? I left a message on your phone this morning about it.”

“No. I didn’t check my message or see the article until we got here. And then I saw the headline and tossed it in the garbage.”

“Ah, well, um. I should warn you.” She cleared her throat. “There’s also a big article on you too.”

“Fanfuckingtastic. Look, I need you to call the police,” he instructed, sounding a hell of a lot more composed than he felt. “Tell them to be on the lookout for a blue Toyota with male and female occupants, most likely on Highway 161.”

“That’s it? Did you get the license plate?” she asked, pulling her cell from her pocket.

“No.” His jaw tightened and he grabbed his keys, heading for the door. “I’m going after them.”

“I can come with you.” His dad stood in the doorway, twisting his hands.

“Thanks, Dad, but I’m taking my bike. I can make up time and maybe catch up with them.” He grabbed the door handle and pulled open the door.

“Careful, son.”

“Yeah be careful!” Elena shouted. “He’s a real—oh, hi. Yeah, I need to report a kidnapping. Some dentist from a shitty reality show just kidnapped my future sister-in-law.”

Marco ran down the steps, jumped onto his bike and gunned the engine. Rolling back the throttle, he shot out of the driveway and onto the small road. Dust rose around him as he pushed the bike to the limits.

Once he reached the main road he looked left and right. The real question was where would Gordon take her? Back to Los Angeles or back to Vegas? He ground his teeth together and tried to put himself in the mindset of the other man. He wanted Brandy back. Bad. Had made it all too clear he still wanted to marry her.

A possibility took root in his gut. The idea was ludicrous. Completely insane. And yet… Rolling back the throttle again, he turned left onto the highway toward Vegas.

Why hadn’t she thought to bring her cell phone? Grab her purse? Brandy cursed herself for not being more prepared.

Yeah right, like you can really be prepared to get kidnapped by your nutty ex who you already ditched once at that altar.

Biting back a groan, she stared out the window and watched the approach of the lights and buildings of Vegas.

How could Gordon be so off his rocker to actually think he’d convince someone to marry them when she so obviously wasn’t willing?

Gordon lit up a cigarette. Brandi hit a few buttons on the passenger’s door, but finally managed to lower the window.

“What are you doing?” he asked sharply.

“Opening the window so I don’t have to smoke with you.”

She turned her face toward the small breeze, grateful for the fresh air. Not only was the smell of smoke overwhelming, but obviously Gordon hadn’t showered in awhile.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” he muttered. “I’m sorry we don’t have a dress for you this time, love muffin. But I’m sure you can understand the urgency of the situation.”

Umm, not really
. She bit back the response, having decided a while ago that trying to talk sense into him was a complete waste of time.

“Ah, there it is now.” Gordon swerved across the boulevard, the car bouncing as it plowed over the cracked pavement on the parking lot.

Brandy shook her head. Good lord, please let Marco and his family have called the police by now. Not that they’d know where she was heading.

“Okay, out you go.”

The lock on her door clicked open and she reached for the handle. Maybe she should just make a run for it.

“And I’m keeping the gun on you, so don’t do anything stupid.”

Brandy sighed and opened the door, glaring at Gordon across the roof of the car when he climbed out. “You won’t shoot me. You need my money, remember?”

Gordon scowled and nodded his head toward the chapel.

“Come on. You first.”

“What is with you and this shithole place?” She folded her arms across her chest and strode ahead of him into the dark chapel. Her nose wrinkled as the familiar smell of stale beer and BO assaulted her.

“It’s sentimental to me,” he sneered. “And it’s the cheapest chapel I could find.”

Here she was, almost two weeks since she’d run from her wedding and she was right back where she started. She’d come full circle. Only this time she had absolutely no chance of running, and even if she did Marco wouldn’t be outside waiting on his bike.

“We’re closed early for the day, ma’am.” A voice came from the shadows below the stained glass window.