Back in Black (32 page)

The idea of that tortured Audrey until she couldn’t stand it anymore. The very least she owed Brett was a sincere apology. If he never wanted to see her again, she couldn’t blame him. But she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t explain to him and tell him how sorry she felt for all of it.

She glanced at her watch and decided to make a quick stop at the meeting first to get it out of the way. Her reign within WAVS was coming to an end. She couldn’t be a part of a group that sought maliciousness over effectiveness, that used cruelty toward others for recognition.

It didn’t take her long to drive to the meeting location. With early evening descending, the temperature dropped and a chilly breeze drifted in. Audrey pulled on her hoodie and, determined to enact some change, entered the room where the others had already gathered.

An expectant silence descended the second she stepped through the open doorway.

At the front of the room, Millie called out to her, “Perfect timing, Audrey. We were just discussing you.”

Discussing her? Spine going stiff and straight, Audrey surveyed the once friendly faces of the women she’d considered friends. They looked at her with disapproval, distrust, and animosity.

Rather than be intimidated, Audrey went on the offensive. “What’s going on here, Millie?”

Millie held out her arms to encompass the whole room. “We’ve been talking, and we’ve decided that you have a clear conflict of interest.” She started toward Audrey.

“After all, you insisted that I not break the story on that slutty publicist, even though we all know it would have had a great impact for our cause.”

“That’s nonsense and you know it! How would trashing Gillian Noode have furthered our objectives? She’s not part of the SBC, and she’s not a fighter.”

“No,” Millie agreed. “But Brett Bullman is, right? And still, here you are, all set to defend him, too.”

Audrey clenched her fists. “I trusted you.”

Millie got so close that she bumped into Audrey. “And we all trusted
you
. But now that you’re screwing a fighter, you’ve turned your back on us, and our goals!”

Taking a step away to put some space between herself and Millie, Audrey scanned the faces of the other women. A few of them now looked sad for her, but most were nodding in agreement, ready to encourage Millie in her nastiness and aggressive posturing. Never had Audrey encouraged this type of behavior.

Why hadn’t she seen the ugliness of it all before now?

Keeping her voice strong, Audrey addressed them all. “We were never about ruining lives. Our goal was to make others understand the possible hazards to this type of sport. That’s all. Targeting individuals is wrong.”

“Even Drew Black?” Millie sneered.

“Even Drew has the right to honest, fair, and professional treatment.”

Millie almost snapped. She jerked forward to loom over Audrey, her face red, her eyes burning. “After what he did to me?” she screeched. “After how he maligned me for all the world to see?”

Undaunted, Audrey replied, “Mr. Black was unfairly harsh, but this can’t be about getting even with him at all costs. Don’t you see that?”

She tried to talk to the others, but Millie wouldn’t let her. Each time she moved, Millie moved with her, belligerently staying in her face, challenging her with her attitude.

“You’ve chosen sides, Audrey. Accept the consequences.”

“What consequences?”

“You’re out. For good. No one wants a traitor here.”

Audrey sighed, sad for her friend, but done with the group all the same. “Can’t you see that you’re stooping to the very behavior you object to?”

Snatching up Audrey’s arm in a vicious grip, Millie jerked her toward the door. “You don’t know anything. Now get out! We don’t want you here anymore.”

Stunned by Millie’s maliciousness, Audrey glanced over her shoulder and saw varying degrees of shock on every other face. Yet they all just watched. No one said a word in Audrey’s defense.

“Forget it,” Millie said. “The meeting’s over anyway.” She put Audrey outside the door with a vicious shove that nearly knocked her to the ground.

Audrey regained her balance and faced her one-time friend. Something was very, very wrong with Millie. Why had she never seen it before? “You’re out of control.”

“Go to hell, Audrey.” As she started away, she said, “And you can take your boyfriend with you!” With her back already to Audrey, she paused, then looked over her shoulder with a smile. “Unless he gets there before you.”

The way Millie said that, how she looked as if she knew a great secret, set off alarm bells in Audrey’s head. But how could Audrey hurt Brett? He was a man more capable than most, and Millie, though filled with hatred, was no match for his strength.

Head pounding, Audrey went to her car and got in. While she sat there, deciding what to do, the others filed out of the meeting room. Some were solemn, some chatting. Millie outright laughed, as if enlivened by her contemptible attack. Audrey watched them all drive away with a sense of finality. She’d spent years building a group that had morphed from community concern into something ugly and malicious, spearheaded by a fanatic.

She’d never wanted that. But because of her, so many had been hurt.

Sick at heart, Audrey pulled back onto the road. She called Brett again with the same result. He didn’t even want to hear her apology.

Maybe she should go see him, face to face. She had no idea where he’d be this time of the evening, but she could start at his apartment. He couldn’t reject her more hate-fully than her group just had.

But she knew, any rejection from Brett was going to feel a million times worse.

Cowardice urged her to wait until the morning to seek him out, but she couldn’t abide that decision. She’d made the mistakes; she had to own up to them. She was within minutes of finding much-needed solitude in her own apartment when she decided to turn around.

If Brett weren’t at his apartment, then she’d give up for the night.

But she would at least try to give him the sincere apology and explanation that he deserved.

At this time of year the sun set early. By the time Audrey reached Brett’s apartment building, thick gray clouds darkened the night even more. It had only been a half hour since she’d left the meeting room, and she still felt frazzled, her hands shaking and her stomach in knots.

The thought of an ugly confrontation with Brett wasn’t helping.

She pulled up to the curb in front of his building, drew several deep breaths, and opened her door. That was when she realized that people were clustered on the street, but she didn’t know why.

Until she saw the smoke.

Her chest tightened and her heart pounded. Brett’s building was on fire! And she didn’t see Brett anywhere.

Audrey ran for the two-story, run-down building, but was stopped by hard hands. After Millie’s manhandling, she was edgy enough to strike out. Luckily her automatic blow was blocked.

“Brett ain’t in there,” a young man told her as he released her and held up his hands. “He left a few hours ago for some bar.”

Her knees nearly gave out with relief. She recognized the youth as one of the residents who had greeted Brett before they’d gone into his apartment. “What happened?”

“Some asshole did a drive-by on us,” he said in disgust. “But instead of gunfire, he lobbed a gasoline-filled bottle right in through the big front window.”

Good God, someone could have been seriously hurt or even killed. “You all got out okay?”

“Yeah.” His expression darkened. “But we didn’t see who did it. We were all inside, playing the new SBC fighting game. By the time we got out here, he was long gone.”

Why would anyone do that? Audrey looked around and remembered what Brett had said about the area being rough and dangerous. This was likely a private dispute that had gone public in a big way.

But . . . she remembered that awful look on Millie’s face, what she’d said about Brett.

“When . . . when did it happen?”

“Few minutes before you pulled up. The gas spread over the porch and the front rooms so fast that it singed my damn eyebrows.”

Relieved that Brett wasn’t inside, Audrey asked, “Someone called the police or the fire department?”

He looked like she was nuts. “Uh . . . probably.”

Audrey started to relax—and then it hit her. “Spice,” she gasped. She looked back at the building. The fire wasn’t that bad yet; it was mostly on the front of the first floor. But choking smoke could kill as easily as flames could. “Oh, my God,
Spice
!”

The young man gave her another funny look. “My name is Huckman. Friends call me Huck.”

Panicked, she turned on poor Huckman. “Is there a way into Brett’s rooms?”

His brows crunched down. “You serious, lady? You want to break in?”

“No . . .
yes
. Brett has a cat. Oh, please, Huckman. He loves that cat! We have to do something or she’ll die.”

Eyes widening, Huckman said, “Come on. I know how I can get you in.”

As they ran around to the back of the building, distant sirens shattered the quiet of the night. Thank God, the fire department was on the way. But Audrey wasn’t willing to wait. Would firefighters put the life of one cat above their own safety? How could they?

Huckman took her through a back alley for the building. One street lamp provided enough light for her to see dumped refuse and scattered garbage.

“The fire escape goes up to his kitchen. But you’ll have to break the window yourself. I ain’t getting in no trouble for a cat.”

Audrey peered through the darkness in dismay. “I can’t reach it.” The fire escape ladder was raised and well out of her reach.

But that didn’t slow down the young man.

Huckman dragged over a trash can, upended it without remorse, and, using it for added height, jumped up and snagged the ladder.

It came down in a clatter that, to Audrey, sounded like gunfire, adding to her jumpiness.

Even here in the back alley, the smoke was horrible enough to burn her throat and eyes. Poor Spice. She had to be frantic.

It was tricky, but Audrey managed to climb up the rickety metal ladder to the kitchen window. Never in her life had she deliberately broken glass. She tried opening the window first, but Brett had it secured.

She looked down and found Huckman still there, looking up at her, watching with a bemused and awed set to his face. “How do I do this?”

He said, “Use your elbow,” and demonstrated with a quick jerking move of his arm.

Audrey nodded. Aligning her elbow with the window, she closed her eyes and mimicked his move. The glass shattered. Even as the sirens grew closer, she climbed over the jagged sill and into the apartment. She tried a light switch, but the electricity was out. Maybe the wires had burned. She could smell the stench of scorched fabric, wood, and paint. Smoke billowed around the room.

Making her way over to the kitchen doorway, she called out, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” as loudly as she could. “Here, Spice. Come on, kitty.”

Audrey heard meowing seconds before Spice ran to her and twined around her legs. Luckily, the smoke wasn’t as bad low to the floor. Scooping up the cat and hugging her, Audrey said, “Thank God you’re okay.”

It was even trickier going down the ladder while holding a cat, but Spice cooperated. At the very end, she leaped out of Audrey’s arms, but Huckman grabbed her before she could get away. He held the cat in one arm and reached the other up to assist Audrey in getting down.

Once her feet were on solid ground again, Huckman asked, “You know where to find Brett?”

She hoped so. “I’ll take the cat to my apartment first. I think she’s been through enough.”

Spice’s eyes were huge and reflective in the darkness, filled with wariness. When Audrey took her back from Huckman, Spice sank her claws into Audrey’s arm. She just hugged the cat in relief, grateful that she was able to do this one small thing for Brett.

“If Brett shows up here, ask him to call me. Tell him that Spice is at my apartment and that I’m going to Roger’s to look for him.”

Huckman grinned. “You’re all right, lady. You know that?”

After the night she’d had, his kindness brought tears to her eyes. Of course, he didn’t know that she was a part of WAVS, and Audrey wasn’t about to tell him. She’d had enough hatred spewed at her already. “Thank you.”

“Brett’s a lucky guy.”

Smile sad, Audrey turned away. “Somehow, I don’t think he sees it that way.”

D
REW looked at Gillian and saw the dark shadows under her eyes. Tendrils of her sleek black hair had loosened to frame her face. Even the bright blue of her eyes seemed faded.

Exhaustion pulled at her, obliterating her edge of sharp wit, dulling her vitality. Beside him in the car, she was half slumped, lost in thought, all but asleep.

And still, she was the most beautiful, sexy woman he’d ever known.

What she’d said to Fran and Loren . . . did she mean it? Could her opinion of him still be so complimentary?

“Your apartment,” he said, drawing her attention. “Is that your only place?”

His question amused her. “Unlike
some
people I could name, most of us don’t have multiple residences to choose from.”

“Should I take that bit of sarcasm to mean yes?”

“Yes, it’s the only place I live.” She put her head back against the seat. “I travel a lot with my job, so I’ve been all over the country, and on a few occasions, outside the country. But at the end of each assignment, I like to have one place to call home. The familiarity, the comfort of having everything just as I want it, that’s what
home
means to me.”

Her answer frustrated Drew. “So . . . you wouldn’t want to live anywhere else?”

She gave him a questioning look. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”