The Secret Life of Bryan (24 page)

The house was awfully quiet. It had been quiet for hours. What if Amy had somehow managed to slip out without his noticing?

Once he thought it, he couldn’t stop worrying about it. If only Barb would get back—she’d been gone for hours already—then he could confide in her, ask her for help. With Barb on the inside and him on the outside, they could make sure that Amy went nowhere unnoticed.

He was so lost in thought that when the cell phone rang, he jumped a foot. Every awful scenario imaginable ran through his mind. Somehow, Bryan had been hurt. Or one of the women. He pulled it from his pocket and answered it on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Preacher? This is Eve Martin.”

“Dr. Martin?” A new fear exploded and he said, “Leigh! Is she all right?”

“Leigh’s fine. She’s right here, with me.” Eve stopped to draw a deep breath. “I don’t want to alarm you, but remember you asked Leigh if she was one of Freddie’s girls? That is, if she worked for him?”

Never had he heard Eve speak so fast. She sounded frazzled, when usually she was too controlling to be frazzled.

“I remember.” It had actually been Bryan who asked, but they’d kept each other apprised of things as they went along. What difference did it make now, though?

“This is surprising, to say the least, but I thought you should know. Freddie had a damn harem going, apparently. There’s another woman he had working for him.”

Another woman working for Freddie? The man spread himself pretty thin. Bryan started to ask, “Who?” but before he could get the word out, the front door of the safe house opened and Amy came running out.

She looked startled.

She looked afraid.

Another woman…Everything clicked into place. Bruce said, “Oh, hell,” and didn’t even care that he’d cursed.

W
henever Bryan stayed at the trailer, he felt at peace, like the weight of the world and all its responsibilities had just melted away. He could relax. He could enjoy life. It was a feeling he hadn’t gotten anywhere else.

Except when he was with Shay.

Now, having her at the trailer, peace was the farthest thing from his mind. While they’d visited with Joe and Luna, the sky had darkened to black velvet, glistening with a million bright stars. The stream out back gurgled as melodically as ever. Owls whispered from the trees. Crickets chirped.

And Bryan couldn’t appreciate any of it. Shay stood there, her fair hair lit by the moon, her skin opalescent, her scent carried to him on a gentle breeze. He wanted to rush her inside, strip her naked, and continue their conversation from the car. Or better yet, not talk, just
do.

But at the same time, he saw the trailer as she might see it—older, small and shabby. Shay had probably never stayed in a trailer in her entire life. Hell, his house back in Ohio would probably fit in her foyer, but at least it wasn’t metal.

Shay held up her arms as if embracing the night. “Bryan, this is…incredible. I feel so small standing here.” She dropped her arms to hug herself. “And the air smells so good. Like water and trees and rich dirt.”

“Yeah.” His cock throbbed and his muscles twitched. He needed her. Bad. They’d lingered too long after dinner. Joe had wanted to go over every detail of the plans, and Shay seemed to be enjoying herself with Luna, so he’d hated to drag her away.

But now he felt like he’d suffered four hours of foreplay.

Bruce hadn’t called yet, so he knew everything was okay back in Ohio. He had Shay to himself for once.

She turned to face him. “Let’s go down to the creek.”

He nearly groaned aloud. He didn’t want to sightsee tonight. “Don’t you want to check out the trailer?”

“I do.” He could see her eyes shining, knew she was smiling at him. “Later. Maybe you could run in and grab a blanket.”

He caught her waist and pulled her closer. “Why?”

“I’ve never made love outside. Have you?”

He had, but he shook his head, more than willing to indulge her. “The bugs will eat you alive.”

“Wimp. What’s a few bug bites?”

Bryan grinned. Damn, he…No. He shook his head again, afraid even to think about his emotions when he was so primed. He cared about her. He wanted her. It was enough for the moment.

Liar.
Nothing with Shay would ever be enough.

But that realization disturbed him, too, so he yanked her close and kissed her. When she softened against him, he lifted his head. “If I’m a wimp, then you’re a hussy. What if someone sees us?”

“Who? A fish? An owl?” And then, with her eyes wider, “Your friend Jamie won’t show up, will he?”

Bryan tasted the soft, fragrant skin where her throat met her shoulder. “He’s not my friend, Shay, and no, he won’t show up. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Well, then…” She walked her fingers down his chest to his crotch. “I have some experimenting to do, remember?”

As if he could ever forget. “Anywhere, anytime, honey.”

“The stream, and right now, please.”

He had to be the luckiest bastard alive. “If that’s what you really want, I’m game.”

“I really do.” She gave him two encouraging strokes to get him hustling.

Bryan grabbed her hand, turned and headed for the trailer. It was one of those old bullet-shaped, silver jobs—ugly, but functional enough to meet his needs. Large trees towered over it, keeping it cool in the summer heat.

He’d made a wooden, two-step platform that sat in front of the door, and he bounded up to it with a lot of haste. He held Shay with one hand and was reaching for the knob with the other, when every instinct he owned went on alert.

Something was wrong. Bad wrong. He could feel it.

Shay patted his butt. “Hurry up.”

“Shhh.” Slowly, silently, Bryan started to step back, urging Shay to the ground. He’d put her in the car and then investigate…. The door swung open.

The trailer was dark, with only the glow of the moon and the stars providing illumination. But it was enough for Bryan to make out the features of the man in the doorframe.

Chili’s eyes gleamed in fanatical delight. He shifted, and Bryan’s attention was drawn to his right hand and the Beretta nine-millimeter. Aimed at Shay.

“Not so fast, Preacher.”

Without conscious thought, Bryan put himself in front of Shay. A hundred and one possibilities ran through his mind even as he said, “You son of a bitch.”

“My mother was a saint,” Chili yelled, and he lifted the gun toward Bryan’s face.

Smirking, Bryan said, “It wasn’t a personal comment on your lineage, you idiot, just a reference to your character.”

That stymied Chili. His eyes narrowed. “Step away from the bitch.”

“I don’t think so.” Bryan felt Shay’s hands clutch at his back, and he knew, knew, damn it, that she’d try to protect him. His gun was at the small of his back. With the way she pressed against him, there was no way for her to be unaware of it. But Shay had never been in his world. She didn’t handle guns, had probably never fired one in her life.

If she attempted to draw it out of his holster, Chili would shoot her.

Bryan reached back and grabbed her arm. His knuckles brushed the butt of the Smith and Wesson. “Not a single damn step, Shay, you got me?”

Her forehead pressed against his back. She nodded.

But he still didn’t trust her. “What do you want, Chili? What the hell are you doing here?”

Chili slouched onto one hip in a negligent pose. “You don’t talk like a preacher. All those whores, claiming you’re good as God, so righteous and all. Hell, you’re no better than most other men.”

“No,” Bryan agreed, “but I’m a helluva sight better than you.”

Chili straightened again. “Shut up.”

“You use women, Chili, don’t you? What’d Freddie do, give you a finder’s fee? Is that why you were checking out Shay that first night? Hoped to tell Freddie about her and get yourself a little on the side for free?”

“Shut up.”

“No woman would touch you otherwise, huh? Not even the two-bit hookers. Why take money from a slime-ball like you when another man—a
real
man—is right around the corner?”

He released Shay so that he could move when the time came. Chili got more rattled by the second, which meant emotion was clouding his judgment, and his aim would be sloppy. Bryan knew how to manipulate spineless cretins like Chili. He’d lose control, act hastily, and then Bryan would have him.

If he caught a bullet in the process, well, he’d get Chili first. Shay would be safe.

Bryan doubted he’d have time to get his gun out of his holster and fire a clean shot, but he was all set to throw himself at Chili when suddenly a light came on in the trailer. Momentarily blinded, Bryan shielded his eyes, and there she stood.

Barb.

He blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things, but no, there was no mistaking that sour expression.

Barb had her arms crossed under her large boobs, her hip jutting out to one side, a mean sneer on her lips. She stared at Bryan over Chili’s shoulder—and then she winked.

Bryan’s jaw loosened. What the hell?

“Chili, calm down.” Barb acted bored with all the drama. “You were going to bring them inside, remember?”

Shay stepped to the side of Bryan. “Barb?”

Bryan used the distraction to open the holster. If he could just get his gun…

“Yeah, it’s me. Not that simpleton Amy.” Barb made a rude sound. “Amy can barely talk without stammering. Why the hell would you think she could plan anything?”

Shay breathed hard. Bryan knew she was hurt at the betrayal, and that made him furious. But…Shay hadn’t seen that wink. What did it mean?

He hadn’t been all that sharp since meeting Shay. Damn, but she kept him off balance, otherwise he would have considered Barb. Not because Barb seemed a likely suspect, but hell, he’d gone through a similar situation with Joe Winston not that long ago. Joe had been just as arrogant in his presumptions, never guessing that a woman, especially a woman he thought liked him, could pull such a stunt.

Men could be such dumbasses sometimes.

Then he thought of Jamie’s prediction, that the woman involved would help them when they needed it. He hoped like hell that Jamie was right. Maybe Barb would pull through in the end. But just in case, he needed his gun.

His hand closed around it…

Suddenly Chili said, “Ah, ah, ah. No guns, Preacher, at least not for you. Get your hands where I can see them. Barb, get that from him, will ya?”

Barb made a face, part apology, part annoyance. “Turn around, Preacher.”

With Chili’s gun aimed at Shay, Bryan had no choice. He turned.

Barb slipped the gun free, hesitated, but Chili grabbed it away from her and shoved it into his pants pocket. “Now get out of my way.”

Barb faded back into the trailer. “Bring them in.”

“Why?” Shay swallowed, her gaze never leaving Barb, her tone haunted. “What did I ever do to you?”

Surprisingly, Barb shoved Chili to the side and jutted her chin toward Shay. “You took over! It was
my
job”—she jabbed a thumb into her chest—“to run things, to make the safe house nice. Everyone relied on me, and they were happy with how I worked till you came in and started criticizing.”

“I didn’t,” Shay whispered.

“The hell you didn’t. The food wasn’t good enough. Our manners weren’t good enough. We had to dress different, talk different. You changed everything.”

“I thought you had fun.”

“The others did, so I played along. But it was all a waste of time.”

“Barb,” Shay implored, “I only wanted to help.”

“Yeah, right. And that got Morganna thinking I needed her help, too. Even Patti pitched in. Pretty soon, there wasn’t anything for me to do.” Barb gulped down air, her bottom lip quivering. “It was the only real job I’d ever had, but why would the preacher need to keep me around anymore?”

Shay started to go to Barb, but Bryan stopped her. “He’s your friend, Barb.”

Chili laughed. “Save your breath, bitch. She’s not that dumb.”

Barb lifted her chin. “No, I’m not.”

“Barb knew all along she’d never cut it as a housekeeper. What bullshit. She works best on her back, and she knows it. That’s why she stayed in touch with me, letting me know where Leigh got off to. That little whore still owed me.”

The more Chili talked, the more devastated Barb looked. Bryan wanted to kill him. “You’re a sick bastard.”

Chili put his arm low on Barb’s waist, then fondled her butt. “I’m smart, not sick. I sent customers to Freddie, helped him spot the right girls to recruit, and in turn he let me sample the merchandise whenever I wanted.”

Barb didn’t smile. “And he wanted to, a lot.”

“Damn right.” Chili slapped her hip. “When Freddie got locked up on that stupid drug bust, he put me—
me
—in charge of the girls. Only between the two of you, there weren’t hardly any girls left. Just the real pathetic ones, and I didn’t want them.”

“What about your wife?” Shay asked. “What about her?”

Chili pulled back, full of affront. “She’s not a slut.”

“I get it,” Bryan said. “Your wife doesn’t want to fuck you, either.” He laughed. “Have you offered to pay her?”

Chili actually trembled with that insult. In a rasping whisper, he said, “By God, I’ll kill you right now and be done with it.”

Bryan braced himself, more than ready to lunge, but Barb nudged Chili. “I thought you wanted to have some fun first.”

Slowly, the anger faded away until he was once again grinning with malicious delight. “That’s right. I do.”

Bryan stared at Barb. “You overheard Shay tell me about Leigh, didn’t you?”

Guilt flashed over Barb’s face for only an instant. She shrugged. “That’s how Chili knew to follow Shay. Only you followed her, too. And then you hid Leigh….”

“Enough standing around out here,” Chili said.

“Right.” Relieved, Barb gestured them both inside. “Come on.”

“No.” Chili backed Bryan and Shay away from the steps by waving the gun. “The bitch wants to go to the stream for a nature fuck. So that’s what we’ll do.”

That threw Barb. “But you had it all planned….”

“I changed the plans,” Chili snapped, then nodded to Bryan. “I was listening. It’s a hell of an idea. I wanna watch.” He leered at Shay, licked his lips. “Then I’ll take my turn with her.”

“Not in this lifetime,” Bryan told him, and meant it. His weapon might be gone, but unless Chili managed a fatal wound, and Bryan doubted he could, he was such a putz, he’d still have the advantage. He’d beat Chili to death with his bare hands before he let him touch Shay.

Barb, her mouth opening like a fish, looked from one person to the next. “But you said—”

“Shut up!” Chili immediately collected himself after that outburst. He was still breathing hard as he smoothed his hair and straightened his glasses. “Go get a flashlight.”

Defeated, Barb disappeared into the trailer.

Bryan had backed up several feet. He stood two steps ahead of Shay, a little to her left. He could feel her tension, her fear. Should he take his chances on tackling Chili?

Barb reappeared with a heavy industrial flashlight. She watched Chili, hefted the light in her palm, and narrowed her eyes.

“Move it,” Chili said.

Bryan situated himself a little more to the left, making sure Shay would be blocked by his body. His muscles tensed—and his cell phone rang.

Threatened, Chili took a step back and aimed. “Who the hell would be calling you? Who knows you’re here beside the whores?”

Bryan shrugged. “The police. But it’s probably Joe Winston.” Bryan doubted Chili knew Joe, but he had to give a name other than that of his brother. If Chili found out he wasn’t the preacher, he’d probably shoot him on the spot. “He lives close by. If I don’t answer it, he’ll know something is wrong.”

Ready to have a full-fledged temper tantrum, Chili snarled, narrowed his eyes, then snapped, “Answer it, damn it. But make it quick. And don’t try to warn anyone, or I’ll blow her brains out.” He moved to Shay’s side and pointed the end of the gun at her head. “I could always put you with Barb instead. Hell, Barb would love it, I bet. But I’d prefer to see you on Shay, so don’t give me a reason to kill her now.”