The Secret Life of Bryan (7 page)

“I spent some time passing around foster homes and was in an orphanage for a bit.” She left out the people who pretended to care but didn’t. She left out a chunk of little girl hurt and fear and desperation.

“Jesus.”

He looked so outraged on her behalf, she jumped straight into the happier parts. “When I was almost seven, I got lucky. I got adopted.” Just thinking of her first few weeks with her new parents had her smiling again. “Mom and Dad are incredible. They didn’t think they could have kids, so they took me into their home and treated me like I was their own. Later, they did have a baby. So I also have a little sister.”

He finally made a few notes, his gaze repeatedly coming back to her face as if he couldn’t stop looking at her. “Won’t these people worry?”

“They know I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

“Do they know
how
you take care of yourself?”

She wouldn’t outright lie, and if he chose to make more assumptions, it was no more than he deserved.

“They know.” Thinking of all the times her parents had lamented her stubbornness, she grinned. “They gave up on telling me what to do when I was about fifteen.”

His brows snapped down. “You’ve been on your own since then?”

“No. I didn’t move out until I was seventeen. But I’ve been fairly self-sufficient since before I was in high school.” Mostly because she’d always needed a challenge, because she’d been innovative in making her own money through one scheme or another, because she’d gone on to college only months after turning seventeen with a full academic scholarship. Even as a young child she’d been driven by demons to
do,
to make a difference, to fulfill promises to herself that no one knew about and no one would understand.

Her parents would have gladly given her the moon if it were possible, but they knew she wouldn’t accept it, not if there was a single chance she’d be able to get it on her own.

After a few tense, silent moments, Bryan asked, “What about your sister?”

“Her name’s Brandi.”

“You two close?”

“We are.” But then, thinking of the last vacation Shay had forced on her sister, and the results, she winced. “At least, when I don’t interfere too much in her life.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He sounded offended on her behalf. It felt odd because usually she was the one trying to take care of everyone, whether they wanted her to or not. Normally she rebelled against anyone worrying for her, but she liked Bryan’s concern.

“It means I can be a real pain in the patoot. Brandi isn’t like me. She’s sweet and shy and quiet.”

“And you’re not?”

That made her laugh. “What do you think?”

“I think sweet and shy has its place, but on you it’d be ridiculous.”

“Gee, thanks.” She couldn’t help but chuckle over that backhanded compliment. “Brandi takes after our parents, who are small with dark hair and eyes. She’s pretty. Not a big gangly girl like myself.”

“Gangly?” His mouth curled in wry amusement. “Fishing for a compliment?”

Shay grinned. “Would you give me one?”

“No. You’re cocky enough as it is.” He tapped his pen with growing impatience. “So the two of you are different and that causes problems?”

“Sometimes. Where I’m too outspoken and brazen for my own good, Brandi is always circumspect and proper. At times, I try to force her to be more outgoing. We’re opposites, but she’s my sister and I love her.”

“Your stepsister.”

“If you want to get technical. But I don’t think of her that way.”

The devotion and love of her family had never been in doubt. She was considered their firstborn, and Brandi
was
her little sister, in every way that mattered to the heart.

“My life isn’t an unhappy one, Bryan. And the truth is, I’m much luckier than most people could ever hope to be.”

He disregarded her reassurance with a shake of his head. “Is there anyone who might be interested in helping you?”

Stubborn man. “I don’t
need
any help.”

“No?” His gaze challenged her. “Then why are you here?”

Oops. Caught in a web of her own making.

She couldn’t tell him that no one in the media trusted Shay Sommers right now. If she got involved as herself, the press would be everywhere, and they’d make mincemeat out of Bryan’s efforts.

But in the name of fair play, she had to let him know what he was getting into. She owed him that much. She got to her feet, circling the table so she stood right beside him. He, too, stood up, as if having her over him made him uneasy.

Wise, as well as stubborn.

“All I can tell you is that I have my reasons for wanting to stay here, for needing to stay here, but they have nothing to do with why I want you.”

He gave her a sharp look of censure. “You’re a regular broken record, aren’t you?”

“I’m thirty years old. I can’t claim to be innocent or pure. Far from it. I’m ambitious and determined to have my own way. Once I set my mind to do something, no one can stop me. But I’m not a hooker.”

“Whatever you are, you’re too damn pushy.”

Bold she’d always be, and she believed in going after what she wanted. She wanted Bryan. “I know.”

She put her hands on his chest, felt his strong heartbeat, the clench of muscles. He gripped her wrists, holding her still, ready to put her away from him.

And a woman burst into the room.

Huge green eyes took in the kitchen scene in a flash as she skidded to a halt. With an expression of delight, she leered at the preacher. “Hey, sweetcheeks. You weren’t about to do something naughty, now were you?”

Shay stared. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, had dark red hair sprayed and gelled and teased to stand out like a wavy halo around her oval face. Her lips, painted crimson and with enough shine to blind passersby, were open in a wide smile. She wore a white tank top with no bra, and her stretch shorts were much
too
short, proving she didn’t wear underpants. Paired up with chunky wedge sandals, it was quite an eye-catching outfit.

Aggrieved, Bryan said, “Morganna,” by way of greeting. “I was about to call you down to ask if you’d show Shay a room to use. She’s moving in.”

Cocking out one well-rounded hip, Morganna teased, “Yeah, sure, dollface. That’s what it looked like you were gonna do.”

Bryan winked at her, which seemed to startle the woman, then he disengaged Shay’s hands. “I’m heading out. Morganna, help Shay get settled in, okay?”

“You betcha.”

Shay almost panicked. “But where are you going?”

Morganna snorted. “He’s afraid of gettin’ raped if he hangs out with us at night. Not that I blame him.” She gave Bryan a lingering once-over, then blew him a kiss. “It’s a waste, not to be using that prime bod.”

“Behave, Morganna.”

“Now, sugarplum, what fun would that be?”

Bryan gave up with a rusty chuckle. “Lock the door after me, and remember—”

“Don’t open it to no one unless I know they’re supposed to be here.”

“Exactly.”

Shay watched him stride off, and not once did he look back at her. She didn’t realize her expression was so wistful until Morganna rudely elbowed her in the side, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“You’re gawking, tootsie, but then, that man is fine to look at, isn’t he?”

“He’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, but don’t waste your time. Even when the offer is free, he never touches any of us, except to joke around every now and then, or to offer a shoulder to cry on. Besides, that man is made of ice. I swear, it doesn’t matter what a body does to try to attract him, he just treats us all like pals, or little sisters maybe. Now I ask you, do I look like anyone’s little sister? Hell, no.”

Shay felt herself warming inside. Bryan had covered his reaction well in front of Morganna, but the kiss he’d given her earlier hadn’t been friendly or familial. It had been hot, assuring her of eventual success.

In a fine frame of mind now, Shay turned to address Morganna. This is what she’d been waiting for, a chance to get to know the women. How was it Bryan had put it? Oh yes, she’d now be
working in the field.
The idea was almost as exciting as Bryan himself.

She sent a beaming smile to the younger woman. “Why don’t I make some tea and we can get to know each other a little better?”

Eyeing her up and down, Morganna said, “My, you’re a fancy one, ain’t you?”

Shay blinked, unsure what that meant. “I, ah…”

Morganna curled her lip in distaste. “Sweetie, if you want me to choke down tea, we’ll have to spice it up a little.” She moved the stepstool so she could reach a cabinet over the refrigerator, and drew out a bottle of whiskey, waving it toward Shay with a happy grin. “This is guaranteed to help a body sleep on a miserable night like tonight.” She climbed down and went for some teacups. “A little of this mixed in our tea and we’ll be able to get to know each other real well in no time at all.”

It was an offer Shay couldn’t refuse.

T
he preacher had finally left, and this time he hadn’t even sought her out to say good-bye. But she wasn’t hurt. In fact, she was glad. Yes, glad! His constant coddling was annoying, filling her with guilt, making her think…No. She knew better, damn it.

Damn him.

But lately, God, he made her nervous. He wasn’t as…warm as he used to be. Sometimes he even seemed glacial.

When he looked at her, it was like he could see clear to her soul. Like he knew what she was, what she wanted and what she did. She shivered, filled with sick dread.

Her hiding place beneath the stairs was stuffy, filled with cobwebs and dust and the stench of her own fear. But this way she could hear the chatter of the new woman and that bitch Morganna.

Stupid Morganna, always acting so friendly with everyone, always flirting with the preacher. She never learned.

Who was the new lady, anyway? Not a whore. Though the stairs muffled some sounds, she’d heard every word said. She couldn’t believe the preacher still thought the new lady was a hooker.

She was up to no good, that much was plain.

It would be smart to keep an eye on her. Later, she’d join them in the kitchen. Maybe ask a few questions. If she could find out anything, it might earn her some points.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Don’t disappear on me now, Shay. There’s no fun in drinking alone.”

Shay laughed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

With a hand over her mouth, she ducked farther back into the corner, until the unfinished wall dug into her spine. Her heart was pounding, her legs shaking, her underarms had grown clammy. Why did everything scare her so much? As footsteps neared her, then stopped, she didn’t dare breathe. After a moment, she worked up the courage to peek between the steps.

Shay paused by the mudroom where she’d plugged in her cell phone to recharge it. She glanced around, making sure she was alone, then dialed a number.

“Dawn? Hey, it’s me.” With a laugh, Shay said, “I’m better than okay. I’m staying at a safe house.” She paused, smiled, and said, “Seriously!”

She watched the woman pace as she talked, and from her hiding spot, she tracked the movements with envy. Shay was tall, slender, beautiful. She’d be valued. She’d be loved.

Even though she knew she had no choice, she felt wicked for listening in. But information was all she had now, and she had to get it when she could.

“How’s Leigh?” Shay listened, closed her eyes a moment, and sighed. “Wow, that’s a relief. Tell her I’ll come to see her tomorrow. I don’t know when, but I’ll definitely stop by.” Shay ducked her head, paced the length of the hall, and said, in a whisper, “Hey, call my realtor for me. Tell her to start scoping the area for any property suitable for a safe house. Yeah, I know, but I want my own, too. If one is good, two would be better, right?”

She listened a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry so much, and don’t call my cell phone. In fact, I’m going to turn it off. But I’ll check in with you each day, okay? Yes, I promise. Hold down the fort for me. Love ya, too. And Dawn? Thank you.” She tucked the phone deep into her purse and headed back to the kitchen. “All right, Morganna. Where’s that drink?”

Oh God, she’d mentioned Leigh.

Spots danced in front of her eyes—from fear, anticipation…elation. If she knew where Leigh had gone off to, she could really make him happy. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper. He sure as hell hadn’t meant to lose Leigh, even if he had kicked her out.

A long time passed, and still she stayed hidden, breathing in the thick air beneath the stairs, gleeful of what she now knew, scared spitless at the idea of getting caught. But she had no choice.

It wasn’t until much later, when the others joined Morganna and Shay in the kitchen, that she finally crept out of her special place. No one saw her.

No one suspected a thing.

After taking his time, walking around the block and down a few dark alleys, deliberately leaving himself open to an attack, Bryan gave up. There’d be no outlet tonight, damn it.

He needed some physical activity, some way to release the pent-up energy induced by Shay and her kamikaze-style flirting. The woman didn’t even try to protect herself. She just kept coming after him, leaving herself open to hurt and rejection.

But he was the one who felt battered.

Right now he’d welcome a brawl. The last time he’d thrown any punches had been against Joe Winston, in Visitation, North Carolina, and that hadn’t been very rewarding because he hadn’t really wanted to hurt Joe. Their situation had been one big misunderstanding, with both of them after the same man.

This time the situation was crystal clear, and he was the only one hoping to get hold of the jerk who’d hurt his brother. But the coward didn’t show himself. Yet.

Bryan let himself into Bruce’s apartment in the old run-down building only three doors down from the safe house. The walls were thin and the decoration total crap, but there were no bugs and the windows were secure.

The second he stepped inside, he knew he wasn’t alone. His hand paused on the light switch and he went still, soaking in the feel of danger, seeking it out, all his senses alert.

Then he relaxed. “Damn it, Bruce. I’m not fifteen anymore. You could get hurt lurking around in the dark.”

From his lounged position in the worn-out easy chair, Bruce laughed. “How do you do that?”

“What?” Bryan flipped the wall switch and the room filled with light. He looked toward his brother, and grimaced. Dressed in baggy brown slacks, a ragged flannel shirt and with his hair long and stringy, Bruce made a foul sight. “Good God, you look like a deranged hermit.”

Bruce rubbed his patchy beard. “Yeah, I know. Nifty, huh?”

“Nifty? What the hell is nifty about it?” Bryan stepped inside and secured the door.

“The disguise conceals the real me.” Bruce pushed to his feet. He was healed now, but it hadn’t been that long ago that he’d been too injured to walk on his own. “So how’d you know it was me?”

Shrugging off his jacket while heading toward the kitchen for a beer, Bryan said, “Because any real threat smells dark and murky and mean. It sticks to your skin, burns your throat.”

“Yeah?” Bruce followed behind. “What do I smell like?”

Grinning to himself, more than ready to twit his brother, Bryan said, “Cookies. Santa Claus. Hell, I don’t know. But nothing close to evil.”

Not at all insulted, Bruce pulled out a chair and straddled it. “In my line of work, that’s a good thing.” He seemed full of energy, but then Bruce usually was. “So how’d it go?”

“Pure fucking hell, if you want the unvarnished truth.” Bryan aimed the neck of a tall beer bottle toward Bruce. “You’re sick, you know that? Only a sick man would surround himself with loony broads who eat, sleep and drink sex—when he’s not supposed to touch any of them.”

Bruce chuckled. “Like you even wanted to.”

“There’s the hell of it.” Bryan pulled out his own chair and dropped into it with a groan. “I wanted to.” He ignored Bruce’s snap to attention to down half his beer in one long gulp. If he couldn’t fight, maybe he could at least get drunk.

“You…?” Bruce couldn’t seem to finish that awesome thought.

“I was on my best behavior.”

“Which isn’t saying much!”

“Quit squawking.” Bryan set the beer aside with a sour expression. Hell, he knew he wouldn’t get drunk. He never did. Only an idiot reduced his reaction time with alcohol. “All your fallen doves are unsullied by me.”

“I never thought otherwise.” Bruce rose and went to the refrigerator. He popped the tab on a Coke, set it beside Bryan, and dumped the beer in the sink.

It was a routine they often went through, something Bruce had started when they were little more than kids and he’d taken it upon himself to keep Bryan out of trouble. He’d steer him away from fights, pull him back from smiling girls, prod him into doing homework.

His efforts weren’t always successful, but since Bruce seemed to take such utter satisfaction in making decisions for him, Bryan occasionally let him have his way.

Besides, it was nice to know his brother had his best interests at heart—not that Bryan would ever admit that to Bruce. That’d ruin most of his fun.

Bruce slapped mayo on whole wheat bread, loaded on three pieces of cheese, and handed it to Bryan.

“I already ate.” But he took the food all the same.

“Really? With the women?” Bruce rejoined him at the table with his own sandwich in hand. “Barb cook for you?”

“No, Shay did.”

He paused with his mouth open for a bite. The sandwich got lowered. “Shay?”

“A new one.” Bryan eyed the sandwich, realized he was hungry after all, and dug in. Eating when Shay sat so close that he could smell her hadn’t been possible. He’d barely managed three bites, then. “Found her tonight.”

“I see.”

That had Bryan laughing. “No, I doubt you do. She’s…not like the other ones.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Stunning.” The Coke actually tasted much better than the beer had. Bruce was a good influence on him. “Tall, built like a brick shithouse, legs up to her armpits, long blond hair…” Just talking about her made him hot. He shrugged. “Stunning.”

Bruce nodded. “And so you’re attracted to her?”

Not even close. He wanted to fuck her lights out. But then…he’d enjoyed holding her, too. And talking to her.

Shit.

“Look,” Bryan said, glaring at his smiling brother, “if it was just the looks, I could ignore her.”

“Hmmm.”

God, he hated it when Bruce said “hmmm” in that sanctimonious way of his. “She’s…” Bryan hesitated, trying to decipher his own thoughts, but he shook his head, at a loss. “I don’t know what she is, all right? Annoying, for sure. Cocky as hell. Pushy.”

“Sounds like a real charmer.”

Feeling unsettled, Bryan left his seat, paced to the cabinets and rummaged around for some chips. “She’s outspoken—but not in a defensive way. More like she’s just very self-assured. But she’s hiding something, too.”

“Most of them are.”

“I don’t mean that.” He found stale nachos and dumped them in a bowl. “She needs to be at the safe house, that much I believe. But the rest…I dunno. She’s not telling me the whole truth, but I can’t pick out the lies.” He shook his head again. Damn it, he hated being confused.

Bruce propped his bearded chin on a hand. “Let’s get back to that part about you wanting her.”

He didn’t want to talk about that. “Totally fucked up, huh?”

With a scowl, Bruce said, “Your language is fucked up. I swear, you make my ears burn. If Dad heard you—”

Bryan shrugged. “I curb it around him.”

“But you figure I can take it?”

“You haven’t fainted yet.” Bryan started to grin, but it ended in a groan. “I should admit that I’m having a problem watching my mouth around Shay, too. She keeps telling me that I’m not like any preacher she’s ever known.”

That worried Bruce a bit. “You think she’s guessed?”

“No way.” At least, he hoped not. “There’s just something about her that pushes my buttons. All my buttons. She makes me forget what I’m doing, lose my temper…and hell, you might as well know I let her kiss me.”

Bruce choked. He appeared more fascinated by the moment. “You let her…?”

“Like I said, she’s pushy.” Disgruntled again, Bryan explained, “I told her no. Hell, I
kept
telling her no. But then she got upset about something and turned on the tears and the next thing I knew, I was too damn close to her, and she—”

“Kissed you.”

“Yeah.” And what a kiss. He’d sunk into it, let his mind go blank while every nerve in his body had jumped to attention. A mind-blowing kiss—
from a hooker.

Bryan took another vicious bite of his sandwich.

“So what?”

Doing a double take, Bryan growled, “What do you mean, so what? I’m supposed to be
you.”

Bruce looked thunderstruck, and he even paled a little. “Did anyone see you kissing her?”

“No.” With Bruce’s good humor shot, Bryan went back to eating. “And it was the other way around. She kissed me.”

“Semantics.” Bruce relaxed again. “I repeat, so what? You obviously like her.”

“Like her?” Bryan snorted. “I’d like to get her naked, yeah. But she’s most likely a
hooker,
Bruce. She’s supposed to be under your protection. Doing the horizontal rumble with her sure as hell wouldn’t do the safe house’s reputation any good.”

“Assuming anyone found out, which maybe they wouldn’t.”

“You’re trying to talk me into this?” Bryan sat back and stared at his brother. In his experience, now was the time for Bruce to break out the long talks. Not encourage him. “Why?”

Bruce shrugged. “Never met a woman who rattled you before.”

“I never had to play a preacher before.”

“Maybe that’s it.” Bruce dragged his finger through the frost on his Coke can. “But maybe she’s just special.”

“God save me.” Crossing his arms on the table, Bryan glared. “You think a hooker is special?”

Bruce grew serious quickly, matching Bryan’s dark frown. “Don’t judge, Bryan. Don’t do that. They’re human beings like the rest of us, with flaws and worries and—”

“Yeah, yeah. You gave me this lecture once already. That wasn’t what I meant.” But it sort of was. He wasn’t a chauvinist and he didn’t mind a woman who enjoyed her sexuality, but a guy had to draw the line somewhere.

“If I met a woman,” Bruce intoned, looking down his nose at Bryan, “who
pushed my buttons,
I wouldn’t care about her past.”

“No?” But it wasn’t surprising, because Bruce was different. Bryan had never met another human being with a bigger, more forgiving heart than his brother. Strange how identical twins could be so different.

“And it’s not like your life has been all lily white anyway.”

“True.” Bryan’s past overflowed with dark memories that fell just short of legal, and a few that didn’t even come close. In the line of duty, he’d done things he regretted. In his personal life, he’d made mistakes that had turned deadly.