The Secret Life of Bryan (20 page)

BOOK: The Secret Life of Bryan
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She glanced at Bryan—and then away.

“Is this another stunt to improve your recent bad publicity, to make up for the goof that almost killed that girl?”

Bryan couldn’t move, but Shay did. She stepped back, then back again, distancing herself from him. His brain knew he’d been duped, but his heart waited for her to deny it, waited to hear her say something that would make this all a bad dream.

She shook her head—and her chin lifted. In a regal voice worthy of the title
Crown Princess,
she said, “I’m here because these women are my friends.”

“Right.” The reporter didn’t believe that.

Neither did Bryan.

Morganna, Barb and Patti sidled up close to watch the interrogation with awe and horror.

The reporter swept his hand behind him. “Did you dress them?”

By the moment, Shay’s expression grew colder and more remote. “They’re grown women. They dress themselves.”

“But you supplied the clothes. You’ve gotten them jobs and taught them manners. Isn’t that true?”

“Who told you that?” Shay stared directly at the reporter, as if Bryan didn’t exist. And he felt like he didn’t, like he’d just been sucked into a great void. Damn Jamie. Damn himself for his stupidity.

He should have insisted she share her secrets, he should have done his own investigation. He should have…never touched her in the first place.

But that was over and done with, and he had the here-and-now to tend to.

Never mind what lies Shay had told or what she deserved, the women weren’t a part of it. It was his job to protect them, and he’d do just that. Bryan stepped in front of the reporter, blocking him from Shay’s view. “Get lost.”

Undaunted, the reporter asked, “Do you like the idea of Shay Sommers starting a safe house right down the street from you?”

Bryan locked his jaw. “She’s not.”

“You didn’t know?”
Snap, snap.
More pictures were taken. Too damn many pictures, probably showing his shock, his disgust. His hurt. “She’s already bought the property. Paid cash for it. Are you concerned that her reputation will taint your good work? Will you two be a team?”

“No.” Bryan shoved the reporter out of his way. He caught Morganna’s arm, noticed her black eye, and cursed. “Freddie?”

Morganna nodded. She looked as shaken by the events as he felt. With a weak smile, she said, “I gave him one back.”

“Good for you. Let’s go. Barb? C’mon. Patti, it’s okay now.” The flash of the camera split the dark night with a strobe effect. Still firing away with his questions, the reporter trotted behind him. Shay didn’t. She didn’t move. Bryan tried to ignore that, to ignore her. He stopped by Amy’s side. “You okay, hon?”

She nodded, but big tears were in her green eyes and her nose was red. “He tried to gr-grab me.”

Shay should be soothing her. Shay was good at that. But when Bryan glanced her way, he saw that the reporter had returned to her and was busy trying to bully her into answering his questions. She just stood there, her arms limp at her sides, her face almost expressionless. Bryan wanted to pulverize the guy for bothering her.

He couldn’t bear it and he turned away.

Turning to the officer, he asked, “You need to see the women at the station?”

“We do, but there’s no rush. We already got statements. They can take a little time to calm down.”

“I’ll bring them in, say, an hour?”

“Sure.”

Barb touched Bryan’s shoulder, and that was something she never did. “What about Shay?”

Hell, he didn’t know. “After we leave for the station, she can come in and get her things. She doesn’t need to be back after that.”

Morganna looked ready to cry, and Bryan just knew if she started, they’d all be bawling on him. “It’s over,” he said, trying for an ounce of levity in a night that felt like death. “Freddie is done harassing us. There’ll be nothing but peace from here on out.”

The women nodded, but Bryan knew they didn’t believe that any more than he did. How could he have peace when Shay had just destroyed him? Damn her.

He hustled the women inside, determined to keep them calm, wishing he’d been with them instead of screwing a woman who’d lied to them all. The last thing he saw before shutting the door to the safe house was the police car driving away with Freddie inside—and Shay facing off with the reporter. She looked so very alone.

Just as he felt.

Chapter Eleven

“F
reddie denies shooting the paintball gun or making the phone calls. He says he couldn’t care less what Leigh is doing, so why would he have been following you? He says he wasn’t the one who hurt the preacher.” Amy ducked her head. “He says his only crime was trying to snatch me back.”

Shay paused in her work, swiping the back of her forearm across her brow and setting her dust rag aside. The new safe house would be ready soon enough. Right now Amy wanted to talk.

Like the other women, Amy often visited her. At least they hadn’t given up all hope on her. “Do you believe him?”

“No.”

Well, that was something, at least. Shay prayed daily that Amy would remain strong, and remain safe from the Freddies of the world.

Amy took a turn around the room, staring at her feet. Finally she said, “I like my new job.”

“That’s great. So it’s working out?”

Nodding, Amy said, “I like my new clothes, too. I can’t believe you got me so many.” She smoothed out the skirt of her dress, admiring the feel and look of the fabric. She hesitated, peeked at Shay, then asked, “Are you really so rich?”

Wrinkling her nose, Shay said, “Disgustingly rich.” She waited, but Amy didn’t react to that disclosure.

“You were born rich?”

“No. My husband had piles of money, and after he passed away, it all came to me. Phillip didn’t have any other relatives. I know he’d have taken real pleasure in how I spend it, though. He was a very wonderful man.”

“You loved him?”

Shay turned to stare out the window. She hadn’t loved him as a wife loved a husband; they were more like friends or companions. It hadn’t mattered to him, so it hadn’t mattered to her. “Yeah. I still love him. And I still miss him.”

Amy seemed to digest that before changing the subject. “People look at me differently now.”

“You’re a very pretty, smart young lady. I’m sure they see that.”

She nodded, but not really in agreement—more out of distraction. A blush brightened her face before she whispered, “There’s a guy at work…he, well, he sort of teases me. In a nice way.” She bit off a self-conscious smile, and confided, “He asked me out.”

Shay felt like the sun had just shone down on her miserable head. Despite all her current troubles, seeing Amy happy made her happy, too. “He’s handsome?”

Amy shrugged. “He has this wonderful smile…” With a sigh, she added, “But I’m not ready for that yet. He said he’d wait.”

“Smart man.” Just about every day, Amy became a happier, more carefree young lady.

At least Freddie was still in jail, and likely to stay there since he couldn’t be trusted to check in with his parole officer. He wouldn’t be able to bother Amy for a long, long time.

Taking Shay by surprise, Amy threw her arms around her. “It’s not the same at the safe house without you. Everyone is doing great—but we miss you. Patti gets sullen and Barb isn’t so bossy. The preacher…well, he doesn’t say much at all. Most of the time. Other times he seems so different.”

Shay couldn’t talk about Bryan without getting melancholy. She wished she hadn’t lied. She wished she’d taken her chances and been honest fom the beginning.

She wished she’d never fallen in love with Bryan Kelly.

But she had. And now, as always, she’d have to deal with her actions.

“I can’t come back.” No matter how badly she wanted to. Bryan had walked away from her without even asking for an explanation. All the time she’d spent with him, when she’d thought they were growing closer, hadn’t mattered at all once he’d learned the truth.

Most men would have jumped at the chance to be with her because she was so filthy rich. But Bryan detested her for just that reason. Well, she wouldn’t burn the money. Either he wanted her or he didn’t.

He didn’t—and she’d deal with it. Somehow.

“No, ’course you can’t.” Amy shrugged. “I mean, you’re rich and all that.”

Shay said, “Money has nothing to do with it,” when in truth, she knew money had a lot to do with it. She could buy anything she wanted, including a man.

Just not the man she wanted.

Shay caught Amy’s hands and hoped she’d believe her. “I had more fun staying with all of you than I have in years.”

Dawn walked back in. She had just carried another load of garbage out to the curb. “The kitchen is now completely bare. I thought I’d lend a hand in here.”

Amy glanced down at her pretty yellow dress with regret. “I wish I could help….”

“You’re dressed way too nice for that,” Dawn told her. “And if you don’t leave now, you’ll miss the bus.”

“Then I better go. I don’t want to be late for work.” She backed toward the door. “I have tomorrow off, so I’ll stop by then. I’m good at cleaning. Maybe I’ll bring Morganna with me. I think she goes into the restaurant late.”

“We’ll order in a pizza,” Shay promised. “It’ll be fun.” But after Amy left, Shay leaned against the wall and fought off tears. She missed them all.

Dawn smacked her in the butt with a broom. “Stop moping about how things turned out. Or else make up your mind to change them.”

Shay managed a smile that almost hurt. It had been two weeks. Fourteen days without Bryan touching her, smiling at her. She saw him occasionally, but it wasn’t the same. Either he looked through her, avoided her, or stared at her with pity.

She couldn’t understand it. He almost seemed like two men sometimes. And neither of those two men wanted to be with her. “I’m not moping,” she lied. “And there’s no way I can change it.”

“You can change anything,” Dawn told her. “You sure as hell changed me. And Leigh is happier than I ever thought she’d be.”

With a snort, Shay said, “You’re both wonderful people who remained wonderful people. All I did was lend a small helping hand.”

“Then look at Amy. That girl defined sadness not more than a month ago, but she just walked out of here with a big, honest smile. Face it, Shay. You changed all of us. And I happen to believe you can change anything or anyone, including a stubborn preacher.”

Shay hugged her best friend. “Thank you, but this time I really blew it.”

“Baloney. You only feel that way because you’re in love. Your heart’s keeping your brain from seeing things clearly. If you looked at this situation the way you look at everything else in life, you’d bulldoze your way through it like
that.
” Dawn snapped her fingers.

Shay had to laugh. “Right now, I can’t even bulldoze my way through this mess.” The house she’d bought was three blocks down from Bryan’s safe house. It was plenty big enough to house a dozen women, and once they finished cleaning it and added some fresh paint and carpet, it would look nice. Today she and Dawn were hauling out the biggest piles of junk. With the kitchen finished, Dawn was ready to help her finish tackling one of the downstairs bedrooms.

Dawn looked at Shay, then shook her head. “Look at you. You’re exhausted. You should have hired someone to do this.”

“I needed something to do. Something physical.”
Some way to occupy her mind so she could fight off the need to cry.

She shooed Dawn with a hand. “But you go on. You don’t have to babysit me.”

“Honey, someone’s got to do it.” Dawn threw another stack of newspapers into a large cardboard box. “Know what I think? I think you should jump his bones.”

“Jump him, huh? Somehow I don’t think that’ll work.”

“It’s all in
how
you do it. Lead with your mouth.” Dawn pursed her lips with exaggerated intent. “Kiss first, talk later. And by talk, I mean you talk. Tell him you love him, that you miss him, and if he starts to interrupt, kiss him like no woman has ever kissed him before.”

Shay crossed her arms around her middle. That sounded so wonderful. Like an addict, she craved Bryan’s touch. A kiss from him, even a small one, would make her feel so much better.

“Do it,” Dawn said, “the very next chance you get. Don’t let him walk away or give you one of his holier-than-thou looks. Plaster your lips on and don’t let go.” She lifted the box filled with papers and headed out. The bedroom door was closed, so she balanced the box on one hip and tried to open it. It didn’t budge. “Damn old wood. Everything in this house is too tight.”

“Including the windows,” Shay agreed. “We’ll need to have them planed a bit so they’re easier to open before anyone moves in.”

“I’ll add it to the to-do list in just a minute.” Dawn set the box down and gripped the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn. “Did you lock this?”

Frowning, Shay started toward her. “No, of course not. Amy just left, and it was open then.” All of the doors, even the interior ones, had locks with skeleton keys. The house was old enough to be called quaint despite the problems wrought of age. Crystal doorknobs, high ceilings, and an excess of intricate moldings made the house special.

Even after the incident with the reporter, Shay was determined to make a go of the safe house. The house had been empty, so she’d gotten immediate occupancy.

But after the first article, accompanied by a set of photos, had run in the paper, she’d almost regretted her decision. The article portrayed Shay in the worst possible light. Nothing new in that, but this time they involved Bryan. The heading read:
Preacher Bruce Kelly, Newest Conquest of the Crown Princess?
Shay felt so guilty. Bryan Bruce Kelly was a special kind of a preacher, and a wonderful man. Yet the papers made him sound like a fool, falling for an evil woman. He’d worked far too hard to be dragged down into her bad press.

It wasn’t easy to stick to her guns, but Shay wasn’t a quitter. She couldn’t quit. So instead, she’d begun working to make the house habitable.

Shay tried the door. “The key’s gone.”

Dawn suddenly clutched at her arm. “Wait. Do you smell something?”

Shay sniffed the air and froze. “Smoke.” She hated to think beyond the most obvious of explanations. “Maybe someone’s burning something outside.”

“And we smell it in here with all the windows closed? No.” Dawn headed for the window and started trying to tug it up. Of course it stuck. “Someone set a fire.”

“But we’re…”

“Inside. I know.” She glanced at Shay over her shoulder, her black eyes solemn with fear and understanding. “Maybe Freddie wasn’t the guy hassling the safe house. Maybe it was someone else—and that someone else doesn’t want another haven in the area.”

“That’s reaching.” But Shay saw the smoke begin to billow in under the door. “Oh, God.” She tried adding her strength to Dawn’s but the window was too old and warped to open.

“What are we going to do?”

Her eyes stung and her throat burned. The room quickly filled with more smoke, telling them that the fire was close, probably right out in the hall. They could hear the sounds of wood splintering, the crackle of fire. “Move.”

Dawn stepped to the side and Shay hefted the box of newspapers through the window. The glass shattered, allowing fresh air in. Being the smaller of the two, Dawn scampered up and over the high sill with Shay’s support.

She moved carefully because of the broken shards of glass still embedded in the wood. The bushes outside were as aged as the house, a thick, twining tangle of evergreen branches that scratched and tore.

Cursing, her arms already covered in small bloody scrapes, Dawn reached in for Shay’s hand—and the door leading to the bedroom collapsed inward.

Flames entered with a threatening whoosh.

Dawn screamed.

And Shay landed face-first in the prickly bushes.

 

“You’re being cruel, when I never thought you could be.”

Bryan did his best to ignore Bruce. His brother had become a real pain in the ass, singing Shay’s praises while insulting him with great verve. Bruce could like Shay all he wanted. She hadn’t lied to
him.
Hadn’t slept with
him.

But she thought she had.

Bryan groaned. In the back of his mind, he knew he was no better than Shay. He’d lied, too. Okay, so his reasons were more valid. But hell, he didn’t know what reasons she had.

She hadn’t offered them.

He hadn’t asked.

He didn’t want to get near enough to her to ask. If he did, he’d hold her and kiss her again. He’d be lost.

“Go away, Bruce.”

“Ha! You’re the one who should go away. I’m back at the safe house now, or at least I am when you’re not wandering around there like a lost soul. And why are you still hanging around, anyway?”

Bryan rubbed the back of his neck. He and his brother had switched back to their legitimate places, with Bruce as the preacher and Bryan…not sure what to do. But Bruce was right. The apartment sucked.

He strode to the tiny kitchen and got out a long-neck beer. “I can’t leave yet. Something doesn’t feel right.”

He knew Freddie was scum. He knew he’d tried to grab Amy and that he’d socked Morganna, but the rest…he couldn’t be sure. Someone had followed Shay that day, but was it to get Leigh? Someone had fired into the safe house, making a mess with a paintball. But how would that have helped Freddie’s cause?

Freddie denied it all, and for some reason Bryan half believed him. Probably because his instincts said it wasn’t over. And until he knew it was over, he wasn’t budging.

He wouldn’t leave Bruce alone to maybe get jumped again. He wouldn’t leave the women alone to possibly be hassled. And Shay…damn it, she was just down the street.

More alone than any of them.

“No kidding?” Bruce dropped down into a kitchen chair. “Did Jamie tell you something to make you uncertain?”

Bryan scowled. “No. I haven’t talked to him,” he lied.

“Maybe you should.”

Fed up, Bryan took a long draw on the beer. “You’re a preacher. No way do you believe in voodoo.”

Bruce shrugged. “God works in mysterious ways. That’s what I believe.” He eyed Bryan. “You want to know what I think feels wrong?”

“No.”

“Could be the way you abandoned Shay to the wolves.”

Bryan
hated
melodramatic crap. Almost as much as he hated self-doubt and guilt. “What wolves?”

“Those hideous reporters who are forever trying to discredit her.”

Bryan leaned against the sink. If he sat down, Bruce would take away his beer. “She’s well acquainted with them. And besides, she discredits herself.”

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