Gemini (26 page)

* * * *

Gemini had first met Christine Brewer at a fundraiser for a women and children’s shelter. She actually got to know her when Christine took her camera crew to the shelter itself. The newswoman had interviewed Gemini on site—where both women volunteered.

It was a charitable effort that Bryce hadn’t cared for. He’d have preferred she take up the cause of something prettier, like the symphony or ballet.

At the mall, Gemini paid a teenager outside Hot Topic twenty dollars to make a few calls on his phone. She’d guessed that, when Clay had handed her his phone, he wasn’t thinking only of her convenience and safety. She was certain he could check the calls she made and wouldn’t doubt that he could track her movements. It was impossible to control everything, but she took the precautions she could.

From the kid’s phone, she contacted Christine. Suddenly, Channel 10’s afternoon talk show had a change of guests, and it was going to make some news.

With Jace’s cash, Gemini purchased a pair of dress slacks and a sleeveless silk top in the same spring green. She exchanged her heels for a pair of wedged sandals and bought a necklace and matching earrings of silver and Yellowstone River agate. She tucked her pearls into the clutch she’d picked up at the hotel gift shop and left the dress and heels in Nordstrom’s ladies’ room.

She dawdled at the mall for as long as she could. She climbed into a cab with just enough time left that she wouldn’t have to worry about making it to the studio on time.

* * * *

Quinn was as proud of her as he could be. They’d made a bit of a disturbance as Clay bulldozed their way into the small studio auditorium. Gemini and the newswoman had glanced up at their entrance but went right back to work. The audience—maybe a hundred or so women and a few pussy-whipped husbands—looked the three of them over a little longer.

On the small stage, Gemini sat facing Brewer. She looked beautiful—both strong and vulnerable, dignified and just a little fragile in elegant clothing of her own choosing. In response to a question, she was explaining why she’d chosen this program to make her public statement.

Apparently, when they’d worked together at a women’s shelter, Gemini had gotten the sense that Christine had her own personal history of abuse. The journalist didn’t deny it.

“I remember our conversation there,” Christine said. “We talked about the irony of building a shelter for women and children. Every place should be a shelter, you said. Every home, every church, every public building. Every village and town and city.”

“For everyone,” Gemini added.

“Everyone…because you believe that abusers were once children who needed shelter themselves.”

“I suspect that’s mostly true, don’t you?” Gemini asked.

“Are you saying you have sympathy for your abuser?”

“Well,” Gemini said, considering. “I guess that’s a goal. Forgiveness and understanding, compassion—I think those are qualities of human beings who are thoughtful and wise. Let’s just say I hope to get there sometime.”

“Why did you come here today?”

Gemini looked at her hands. Quinn was sure she was rubbing her ring finger, unconsciously trying to soothe away the mark left by the ring that had been smashed the evening before. “For two reasons, really. In part, I want women who are living in this circumstance to know that they are not alone.” She looked up intently, her gaze meeting those of women in the audience and then the camera. “You’re not alone,” she said. “And you’re not without hope. No matter what you’ve done, you don’t deserve what is happening to you.”

Then she looked back at Christine. “Also, I’ve learned this. Bryce hurt me, but he hurt other women more. There are women who might want to be with him in the future. I want them to know.”

“What does that mean, that he hurt them more?”

“It means…Bryce never hit me in the face. He never hurt me in such a way that it would show.”

“Because you’d be with him in public the next day. You’d be on his arm.”

Gemini nodded. “Yes.”

“Other women, you said. Are you claiming Bryce cheated on you?”

“That’s not a thing I would talk about either way. If he did or didn’t, if I did or didn’t, that’s no one’s business but ours.”

“But you’ve brought your marriage before the public today.”

“I’ve brought my circumstances of abuse. For the reasons I’ve stated.”

“We all know that Bryce has political aspirations. Was that part of your motivation as well? Your accusations could put an end to his political career.”

Gemini lifted a single shoulder. “That’s really for the voters to decide, not me.”

Christine paused for a moment, and Quinn saw her focus on a monitor at the edge of the stage. Then she looked back at Gemini. “Bryce Tomlinson is in the studio.” There was a big audience reaction to that, and a pretty big one from the man standing next to Quinn. Clay went up on his toes, only maybe held back by Jace’s arm coming up like a gate in front of him.

“He’s asking for a chance to defend himself. He’d like to join us on stage. How do you feel about that?”

Quinn thought it was clear how Christine felt about it. He could imagine that in her smart, pretty little head, she was ticking off the boost to her ratings.

Gemini appeared calm and still, but Quinn knew the signs of her tension. “This is your show. You can invite him onto it if you like. But I won’t stay.”

Christine was clearly torn. Quinn figured her for a decent woman trying to do a decent thing, but she was also a professional in a business that loved drama. “Is Bryce not entitled to a chance to defend himself?”

Gemini took a long breath. “Bryce can do what he wants. I have no desire or ability to control what he does. The fact is, I have no proof of what I’ve told you today.” With simple grace, Gem slid her fingers along the neckline of her top and then along her bare arms. “Since two weeks after my marriage to Bryce, I never wore sleeveless clothing or a low neckline. You know the significance of that, Christine.”

“You were covering bruises.”

Gem nodded. “Bryce is very charismatic. He will very compellingly deny what I’ve said today, so much so that you and others will be tempted to believe him. I can’t control that, either. I told you this morning when I called that I would speak of it only this one time. I will never talk about it again publicly. I will never face Bryce on a stage or anywhere else. I’ve told my story for the reasons I gave you, and now I’m done. You and everyone else will just have to choose what and whom to believe.”

The camera focused on Gem’s face, the dignity and determination there. Quinn wanted to cheer. Apparently, some ladies in the audience did, too. Someone hollered out, “I believe you, Gemini!” then others did, too. Within a minute, they were all on their feet applauding.

Christine stood, too, and put out her hand to bring Gemini to her feet. The newswoman couldn’t be heard, but everyone could see the words she mouthed. “I believe you.”

Still holding Gem’s hand, she looked off to the side of the set and gave a negative shake of her head. Tomlinson wasn’t going to be ushered on stage.

The show was slotted into an hour. As far as Quinn could tell, they hadn’t taken a commercial break. When the crowd quieted, Christine kept an arm around Gemini and walked her down off the stage. For the next quarter hour, Gem spoke informally while women in the audience asked questions and shared their own experiences. Christine interrupted at one point to close the show, but the conversation continued long after that, and the cameras kept running. Before it wound down, Gemini’s blouse was damp with tears from the women she’d hugged. One of Christine’s staff members had quickly printed off a list of local resources and contacts for shelter, and some women took those with them when they left.

Quinn, Clay, and Jace stood beside the door to the auditorium, their backs against the wall and their arms crossed over their chests. Apparently, Bryce had been shown out of the building via another route, though Quinn was sure that was a disappointment to Clay.

Jace looked up from his phone. “These are just normal women,” he said. “It’s not a select audience. They came expecting to see Christine interview a local romance author who’s just made her way to the top of the New York Times best sellers list.”

Quinn figured that, of the three of them, Clay was the least surprised. He just quietly nodded. “Our girl did good.”

* * * *

They drove past Reno and half-way across Nevada before Quinn called them to a halt. Gemini was with him in the back seat of the Lexus, and she’d been lights out for a couple hours. She’d had a day.

Clay looked at the pair over his shoulder and left the highway at the next exit. He chose the best of the hotels clustered there, and they took a couple rooms.

Each of the men carried their own small bags. As they’d emptied the trunk, Clay had grabbed the Nordstrom’s shopping bag that Gem had brought from the studio. When they got to the first room, Clay opened the door and found the king-sized bed. The other room was supposed to have two queens. He took Gem by the arm and ushered her in. “She’s with me tonight,” he said to Quinn and Jace, not so subtly blocking the door.

They didn’t object too strongly. They all knew he was the one who’d broken trust with her that day and, though the guys didn’t feel bad about it, she might.

None of them had touched her when she walked away from that stage. Clay hadn’t even reached to take the bag she carried. They’d just waited for her, respectfully letting her pass through them as she left the studio and not surrounding her until they exited the building. There, he’d pushed in front of her, knowing that Jace and Quinn would have her back.

As he guessed, Tomlinson and the goon squad lay in wait among the crowd outside. “Go,” he said over his shoulder to Quinn. Clay pushed himself up into Bryce’s face in a threatening enough manner that the goons paused, not sure whether to stay and protect the asshole or go after Gem. Like they’d trained for it, Quinn stepped up and bulldozed his way through, and Jace put his hand to Gem’s back and tucked her up on Quinn’s six.

In just moments, it was over. Clay gave Tomlinson nothing but a hard stare of disgust then followed his…his
family
to the car. He thought for a moment that the asshole was going to spout off, but a lot of the crowd on the street had been in the studio. Bryce was a man without a lot of credibility at the moment.

Clay caught up to the others just as Quinn opened the door for Gemini. She looked up before she got in. “I know you don’t care, but I do. You said what you have on Bryce is enough to protect you—the three of you. Is that the truth? I want your word on that. Not your fake word, but the real deal.”

She was right. He didn’t care. He’d fucking relish the fight if Tomlinson ever had the balls again to come after any of them—including her.
Especially
her. But he didn’t have to lie to her this time. The potential for seeing his ass hauled up in court with criminal charges would mean a whole different deal to Tomlinson than a little bitch slap—
sorry, Gem
—on women’s television.

He met her eyes and let her see. He didn’t have to drum up any fake sincerity. “It’s the truth. You have my word. The real deal.”

She held his gaze for a while before she nodded. It was possible she didn’t find him lacking.

“I’m not going to apologize for tracking you to the studio, Gem.”

“I know you won’t.” She frowned a little, but was too honest not to say more. “The truth is, it was wonderful to see you all walk in. It gave me a lot of strength.”

She met each of their gazes in turn, then moved to get into the car. She paused when Jace spoke.

“I saw you hand your pearls to Christine,” he said. “I’m guessing you made a little donation to the shelter.”

She looked back at Jace and then at all of them again. “I’m not a hero.”

Quinn touched her shoulder. “Oh, yes, you are, babe.”

Clay and Jace nodded their agreement.

Gem gave a little sigh. “I’d have given them the ring, too, but for the idiot here.”

Clay wanted to kiss her. “Sorry, sweetheart. But that sure as hell felt good.”

She got into the car. But she spoke over her shoulder, loud enough for them all to hear. “To me, too.”

He felt vindicated and more or less forgiven. But still, he needed her with him tonight.

Inside the room, he set their bags down. He reached into his duffle and got out his toothpaste and the hotel toothbrush she’d used the night before. Nodding her toward the bathroom, he handed them over. While she was gone, he opened the bed and put out an extra T-shirt for her.

When she came out, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her. Her makeup was gone and he could see the smudges of fatigue under her eyes. He rubbed his thumbs over her skin. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he said. He put a soft kiss on her lips. “And tired. Get into bed.”

He left her alone to undress while he hit the bathroom himself. Then he stripped and got into bed beside her. He needed something from her. Leaning over her, he took her mouth in a gentle kiss. When he lifted to look into her eyes, he didn’t see any objection. He went back to it, kissing, kissing like it was all he had to do all night. Her lips were soft and her taste so fucking sweet he thought he really could do just that for the whole night.

But it wasn’t what he needed.

Keeping at it, gently wooing her mouth, he moved one hand to her breast. He cupped her, the soft T-shirt separating him from her skin. He stroked his thumb over her until her nipple peaked. He didn’t tug the shirt out of his way. He didn’t squeeze or pull on her nipple. A light touch, he just kept rubbing her with his thumb.

Until he felt it. Her quickening—the little shiver of tension through her body, the quiet moan of surrender. Lifting over her then, he settled between her thighs. Watching her face, sinking into her eyes, he pressed himself inside her.

She was just barely wet enough for him. He had to work his way in a little at a time. She let him do it. Meeting his gaze, quiet and calm as her body accepted him, she gave him what he wanted. What he needed.