What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (18 page)

“At five in the
morning, really?” I eye him like a jealous girlfriend… Wait, no…
He looks at his watch.

“Eh, it’s actually
after five, but yeah. Can you stay out of trouble for a few hours?”
he asks.

“Yes, I can.” I
roll my eyes.

“All right, honey,
I'll be back.” He puts his hands in his pockets because he's
fidgety. He steps closer and kisses me on my forehead. I look up at
him.

“Behave,” he says
as he turns and walks out of the room.

“You two look cozy.”
A gruff voice catches my attention.

“Bryant!” I gasp
and limp to his bedside. “How are you feeling? You scared the hell
out of me.”

“I feel like shit;
and for the record, I scared the hell out of me also.”

“Bryant, your parents
are here.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I think that
bitch called them.” I roll my eyes.

“Bree?” I go closer
to him so I can hear him clearly. “Bree, I'm so sorry about every—”

“Bryant.” I cut him
off because I'm not in the mood for any of this. “Bryant, the
police are here to question you.” He raises his head from the
flattened pillow.

“Why?”

“Bryant, Cass was
arrested.” I inform him with a slight attitude in my voice.

“For what?” he says
loudly as he tries to lift up from the bed. His monitors start to
ding and scream. The nurses come rushing in to restrain him.

“Bryant, clam down;
you can't help her.”

The two policemen who
were talking to Cruz earlier enter the room.

“Mr. Morgan?” The
cockier officer approaches Bryant.

“Yes, that’s me,”
Bryant replies.

“Glad to see you up
and alert. You were kind of out of it earlier. Do you happen to
remember any of last night’s events?”

“I, um, remember
being in V.I.P. with Cassie.”

“Cassie Tanner?”
the officer coaxes him.

“Yes, Cassie Tanner,”
Bryant replies.

“Did you go to the
bathroom, leave any of your drinks unattended?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Did you take
anything? Did anyone give you performance enhancement drugs?”

“No, I don’t need
any of that stuff.”

“Well, it was in your
bloodstream, Mr. Morgan, along with amphetamines and an substantial
amount of alcohol.”

“I only remember
having one beer and like three shots.”

“Three shots of
what?”

“Black Label?” he
says as if he can’t quite remember.

“You had to have more
than that, Mr. Morgan. Your alcohol level was 0.120.” The other
officer shrugs. Bryant hangs his head as he fumbles with the hand
that has the IV attached to him.

“Bryant, please tell
them what you had.”

“That’s all I
remember, Bree.” Just as I start to chastise him, I hear a sobbing
cry.

“Bryant!” I turn to
see Bryant’s mother and father standing in the doorway.

“Ma, I’m fine.”

“What are you doing,
Bryant? What were you thinking?”

“Shit, apparently he
wasn’t,” I say under my breath.

“Ma, I’m not sure
what happened. I’m not sure of anything at all.”

“But you are sure you
were with Cassie Tanner?” The shorter officer asks.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Where is she?”
Bryant’s mother looks to me, as she demands an answer.

“She’s been
arrested.” The cockier officer answers.

“I need to get her
out,” Bryant says aloud. I turn on my good foot and give him a
death stare.

“What were you even
doing with her?” his mother sobs as she interrupts the
tongue-lashing I was about to unleash on him. Her husband, standing
close behind, doesn’t say a word.

Bryant’s parents are
financially well off and sophisticated by inheritance. Bryant and I
always laughed about how backwards they were. His mother runs their
household. Bryant’s dad is just Dad or more like Dad, the provider.
I saw him go toe-to-toe with Mrs. Morgan once at a holiday party. I’m
not sure what happened after that fight, but Bryant was shocked by
his dad’s actions.

“Well, Ms. Tanner is
being held without bail. The drug she’s already admitted to giving
you is deadly if taken with alcohol. Which is why you are here, Mr.
Morgan. Do you realize Ms. Tanner is being charged with attempted
murder on top of drug possession and distribution charges? Not to
mention she assaulted an officer. So if I were you, Mr. Morgan, I’d
wash my hands of her.”

Bryant looks at the
officers and nods.

“Bryant, has the
doctor been in to see you since you’ve been awake.”

“No, not yet,” one
of the nurses answers his father. “We’ll be keeping him overnight
to make sure there’s no brain damage or other side effects. He lost
a lot of oxygen to his brain.”

“Oh, my goodness,”
his mother gasps.

“Ma, I’m fine.”

It amazes me how New
York he sounds. That’s the Italian coming out in Bryant.

“Bria, honey, you
look exhausted. You should go home. We’ll look after Bryant.”

“I’m fine, Mrs.
Morgan. I’ll just call Mr. Wilke to let him know I won’t be in
this morning.”

“Bree, I’m going to
be fine. Please, go home, get a few hours of sleep, and go to work.”

“Bryant, I’m not
going to be able to sleep knowing you are here.” I shake my head.
“I can’t,” I say softly.

“Bria, you have a lot
more to worry about. Please just go home,” Bryant begs. He’s
right. I have his business, my business, and Mr. Wilke to be
concerned about. I can’t accomplish anything being here at the
hospital with him.

“Okay,” I say as I
hold up my hands in defeat. “I need to call a taxi.”

“I’ll take you,”
Mr. Morgan volunteered.

“Okay, give me a
second and I’ll be ready.” I turn to Bryant and run my hand
through his hair. He closes his eyes as if my touch is too
overwhelming for him. It’s our universal code for “we’re okay.”
I lean in and kiss him on his cheek. “I’ll check with you later,
okay.” He nods and I turn to leave with Mr. Morgan following me.

As we come to the doors
leading to the parking garage, he directs me to stay put while he
brings the car around. Good, because this ankle has gotten far too
much usage today. Mr. Morgan pulls up in a nice Cadillac truck. I’m
not a fan of the truck made by Cadillac because it’s accident
research and reports suck. However, this is a nice truck. I locate
the airbag as I settle in my seat. “Better safe than sorry,” I
say with a chuckle. He pulls away and off into the seven o’clock
traffic.

* * *

“You know, Bria.
Bryant loves you very much.”

“I love Bryant too,
Mr. Morgan; he’s my best friend.”

He laughs. “No,
Bryant is
in
love
with you. He’s only trying to get your attention with Cassie.”

“Mr. Morgan, that
can’t be true. He knows I despise Cassie with everything I have in
me. Bryant loves me, yes; but I’m safe for him. He thinks if things
don’t work with us, we will still be friends.”

“Oh, and that’s not
true?” he asks.

“No,” I whisper.

“Ahh.” He gestures.
“What would happen if it didn’t work?”

“Things would be
awkward between us.”

“How are they now?”
He glances over at me.

“Fine, I guess.”

“I saw you with your
guy friend earlier.”

“Oh, Cruz? He’s
actually Bryant’s business colleague.”

“Oh, is that so? Does
Bryant know that guy is sweet on you?”

“Cruz isn’t sweet
on me,” I lie. More like licked on me.

“Bria, honey, I know
you can’t possibly expect me to believe that. He’s arrogant too,”
Mr. Morgan adds.

“Turn right on this
next street,” I say, directing him to my house and away from that
conversation.

“Jeff tells me you
are starting a new company.”

“Yes, I am. I have a
few things coming up actually.”

“Yes, he tells me you
have a real talent for seeking out people’s fantasies.”

“I guess,” I say
nonchalantly.

“So what would it
cost to have something like that set-up or scheduled for me?” He
eyes me quickly, and then turns his attention back to the road.

“Uh, it depends, Mr.
Morgan, on where you’d like your fantasy to take place, the
timeframe, and what you have in mind. Of course, you’ll probably
want to hint around to Mrs. Morgan to get a feel for what she likes.”
I’m fishing of course. He looks at me with a smile on his face.

“Bria, one of your
policy items is discretion, correct?”

BING!

“Of course, Mr.
Morgan, of course it is,” I repeat nervously.

“Okay, so send me
some brochures by email and we’ll go from there.”

“Yes, sir, we can.”
I nod. He’s pulling up on my block and I see my car that was once
on flats has been repaired.
That’s
what Cruz was doing
..

“Here we go; front
door service.” He smiles. “So, Bria, send me that info as soon as
you can, and I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay, I look forward
to it.”

As I get out of the
truck, I remember I gave Cruz my house keys earlier. I let out a
curse as I limp to my doorstep. Thank God, I decided to put a bench
on my porch to make it look festive. I didn’t think I’d be using
it, but I guess I’ll have a seat. Mr. Morgan has already pulled
off, so the chances of me chasing him down to take me to Cruz are
slim to none. I scroll through my phone and find that unfamiliar
number. “Ah, got It!” I press call. It rings one time.

“King Industries,
Cruz King speaking.” His voice even sends a rush that causes a
reaction from my core.

“Hi, Cruz,” I say
and hold the ooh sound in his name. I can sense he’s smiling on the
phone.

“Good morning, honey.
I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“You know, Cruz, you
were right.”

“I know I was. What
changed your mind, honey? Hmm, was it the tongue lashing I performed
between those thighs?”

Heat rises to my face
and through my body.

“No, not that.”

“Seriously, it
couldn’t have been my smile. Was it my body?”

“No, not that
either.”

“Ahhh, the way you
came all over my face… turned you on too, huh?”

“Cruz?”

“Yeah, honey, what is
it?”

“You have my fucking
house keys.” The line goes dead. “Did that fucker just hang up on
me?”

I sit, waiting on the
porch, and look around my house. I think it’s time for a good
painting. I’ve been here a couple years; it wouldn’t hurt. I have
too much on my plate right now, so it’ll have to wait. About four
or five minutes pass, I can hear what sounds like an engine roaring
down my block. Cruz’s Infiniti is speeding toward my house.

He speeds up my
driveway next to my car. As he gets out, he’s yelling, “What the
fuck are you doing here?”

“Excuse me, I live
here!” I yell back at him with a pardon me attitude.

“No shit, Bria. I
told you to stay at the hospital.”

“No, you said you’ll
be back. Nothing was said about me staying there.”

He storms past me to my
front door. He’s fumbling with my keys to get them in the door. He
turns, looks at me, and shakes his head. “Why women don’t listen
is beyond me.”

“Well, you should’ve
figured that out being you have so many of them… women, I mean,”
I say sarcastically.

His body stills for a
second as if I hit a nerve. So I push further.

“I mean I would have
thought you’d have us figured out by now.” He turns as the door
opens, grabs my arm, and forcefully pushes me in. “What the hell,
you ass! Watch it!”

“No, you fuckin’
watch it. You don’t know me, Bria, not one bit.” He moves closer
to me and slams the door shut. I can hear beeping in the background.

“You know nothing
about my life, so I advise you never to speak about something you
know nothing of.”

His eyes are darkening
and my stomach is in knots. I’ve never been nervous this way around
Cruz; it’s an alarming feeling. He moves around me quickly. I turn
to see where he’s going, and he stops at the panel on my wall
before my bedroom. He flips it open to enter a series of number, and
the awful beeping sound stops.

He walks back to me.
The look in his eyes says he’s pissed at me.

“Cruz, who are you?”

He stares at me and
shakes his head. “No, Bria we are not doing this.”

“Okay, so when are
we, Cruz? You show up from who knows where and make demands of me,
and I can’t ask you who you are? That’s hypocritical.”

“No, what’s fucking
hypocritical is you. You’re fucking a man who’s not even your
boyfriend or husband. ‘We’re friends’,” he says with air
quotes in a high-pitched voice. I almost want to laugh, but I’m too
mad to give him the satisfaction.

“I need to get ready
for work; thanks for bringing my keys. You can let yourself out.”
I’m calm because if I’m anything but rational, I’ll push him
too far.

He grabs my arm. God…
doesn’t he get enough. This arm hurts. “Shit, Cruz, what now?”
He pulls me to my sitting room.

“Listen to me; you
need to rest. You should not go to work today. You can work from
home.”
It’s true. I can, but
I’d like to get out of this house
.

“Call your boss. I’m
sure he won’t mind.”

“Okay!”

“I’ll make you
breakfast, then I have to run an errand. I can be back by noon.”

“I’m not hungry,
Cruz,” I sigh.

“Why can’t you
accept someone helping you? Wait, I’m not Morgan.” I pay no
attention to the pot shot he just threw at me. I just shake my head
and grab my phone from my pocket. Dialing my boss, I look at Cruz and
his expression says, “That’s what I thought.”

“Hello, Mr. Wilke,
good morning.”

“Breeee–aaa, stay
home today, love. You’ve had a long night. Don’t even think about
working from home. Rest. Relax. Tomorrow is another day.”

“Well, okay, Mr.
Wilke, since you put it that way. Oh, Mr. Morgan spoke to me today.”