“How’s T?” Edna asked as soon as I entered Mrs. Janowski’s house.
“He looks bad, but I think he’ll be fine.”
“Did he tell you what happened?” Ida asked.
“He relayed some details, but not everything.”
“Tell us what he did say,” Mrs. Janowski urged.
It wouldn’t hurt to tell them what I know, I thought. Hopefully it might stop them from retaliating with their frying pans.
I briefly repeated what T had told me, watching as their eyes grew wider.
“You mean he had to fight to get out?” Sylvia asked.
“Multiple people?” Edna gasped.
“Without weapons?” Mrs. Janowski questioned. “Why those no good, dirty, rotten, despicable ruffians! It’s time to bring those suckers down!”
“Or, we could leave them alone,” I suggested firmly.
“So others can get hurt?” she asked. “When we started Security Squad, we did it to keep the city safe. Not to turn a blind eye when it gets rough.”
“I understand,” I said. “But I think we’re in over our heads on this.”
“We are in over our heads,” Edna agreed. “Watching over an arcade is one thing, but fighting men with weapons is another.”
Ida swigged from her flask, not bothering to dilute it in her coffee. “Let’s talk to Bob,” she said. “He’s on the inside. It’s time he helps.”
“Do you think he will?” Sylvia asked. “He doesn’t seem very motivated.”
“I’ll make sure he will,” Ida said. “Let’s head over to the Hog at one. By then, he should have three beers in him and a loose tongue.”
“He hasn’t had a loose tongue all the times I tried to talk to him,” I said.
“He’ll talk to me,” Ida said. “I have my ways.”
* * *
It was two hours later that I received a call from someone I would’ve never expected to hear from.
“Hello?” I answered the oinking phone.
“Hello, is this Mars Cannon?” the woman asked.
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Lil Thompson . . . Brett’s mom,” she said.
My brain seized.
“Hello? Are you still there?” she asked.
“Uh.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, I am. Sorry. How can I help you?”
“I know you’re coming down soon for the trial, and I’d love it if you’d stayed with us.”
“I . . . um . . . Have you spoken with Brett about this?”
She gave a dismissive snort, making me like her right away. “That boy is harder to pin down than ants on an anthill. Listen, I know you both were close for a time, but that’s neither here nor there. I’d like you to come and stay.”
“We’ve had a bit of a falling out,” I said. “It would be uncomfortable for everyone. But thank you for the offer.”
“Nonsense. It’s not like he lives with us anyway. Now, I don’t mean to pry . . . well, yes I do, but what happened?”
“He never called.”
“You mean after he left?” she asked and then heaved a long sigh. “Honey, he was in a dark place when he brought the killer back. It was a hard time for all of us. But Brett, well, I never saw him in such a state. He didn’t mourn for Eve when everyone else did. He took off as soon as he found the killer’s trail and never looked back. I think as soon as she was locked behind bars it finally hit him. I couldn’t even imagine having to spend twenty hours in the car with that woman, listening to her evil tongue. It took a month just to get Brett to open the door to his own mother.”
I managed to croak, “Oh.”
“When he finally started coming around, he focused on everything that didn’t remind him of Eve. He tried going back to police work, but even they knew he wasn’t ready and put him on desk duty. He resigned after a couple of miserable weeks. He hasn’t been the same.
“The only time I saw a spark of the old Brett was when he was discussing you with the lawyers,” she said with another long sigh. “I don’t doubt he messed things up with you, and I’m sorry he did. From what he’s said, you sound like a lovely woman. I’m just happy my boy finally came around. So, what do you say? Will you stay with us? We need to stay strong together.”
“I . . . yes, I would love to,” I agreed. “Thank you.”
“Wonderful,” she said, sounding pleased. “I can’t wait to meet you. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself mauled by huggers. Down here, you’re our hero.”
Hero?
I felt more like a schmuck.
* * *
An hour later, I received another phone call.
“I’m going to kill you,” T bellowed.
“How’s your new receptionist?” I teased. I probably shouldn’t tease him. And I probably shouldn’t have stuck my nose into his business. But it’s so obvious that T and Emmy love each other. Why can’t they see it? “Go and talk to her. You can thank me later.”
“Did you not hear me? I’m going to kill you.”
“Stop yapping at me and go fix things with Emmy.” I said.
“I can’t! She locked herself in my office.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because Curtis told her I slept with you.”
“Oh brother.” The gossip train was in full-steam-ahead mode. I doubt Mrs. Janowski would have said that I slept with T, but it somehow ended as such. I’ll have to have a talk with her later.
“Get your ass down here and fix this!” he bellowed
“I . . .”
“Now!”
Fifteen minutes later I solemnly knocked on the office door.
“Go away, T!” Emmy cried.
“It’s Mars,” I said.
“You go away too!”
T stood behind me with his arms crossed, glowering.
Eesh.
“Emmy, open the door,” I pleaded. “Whatever you heard from Curtis is wrong.”
“He got the information from Mrs. J., who is always peeking in your window.”
Better shades. I need better shades.
“If you call her, she’ll tell you what she saw.”
“I don’t want to know what she saw!”
“Emmy, do you really think T and I slept together? I wouldn’t do that to you.”
A tearful wail answered. I glanced at T, who looked ready to take a swing at me.
“When did Curtis call?” I asked T. “Were you at least speaking before this?”
“It happened too fast. One minute she walked in completely shocked, and the next she looked down at her phone and turned red.”
“Emmy, read the text to me.”
T listened at the door. “She’s still crying.” He rapped on the door. “Emmy, open this door or I’ll break it down.”
“Do you think you should do that in your condition?”
“Mars, so help me, I’m going to kill you.”
I stepped back and waived him to the door. “Be my guest.”
He took a few steps back and was just about to barrel into the door when a blur sent him flying.
What the . . .
“I asked you to watch her!” Brett yelled, tackling T to the ground. “Watch her! Not fuck her!”
I stood in suspended animation as they fought. T tried to regain footing as Brett knocked him back down. T was already battered from his fight last night and couldn’t possibly take Brett in his current condition.
I stirred back into motion, racing to stop them. Or, rather, to stop Brett. I’m sure T had no desire to fight unless it was with me.
“Stop it!” I hollered as they rolled past. “Brett, we didn’t have sex. He was just using my bed.”
“My bed,” Brett gritted, nailing T in the gut. T retaliated with two punches.
Ouch. Maybe he could take Brett in his current condition.
“No, it’s my bed,” I corrected. “And stop fighting. I already had to patch him up once. My first aid kit is tapped out.”
T grunted as a well-aimed fist contacted him. He elbowed Brett in the stomach. Brett crunched onto the ground, gasping for breath.
The office door unlocked, releasing Emmy into the mix. She plopped down on Brett, glaring at T.
Brett wheezed.
“If you’re going to hit him, you’ll have to hit me too,” she said to T.
“I don’t want to hit him,” T snipped. “He attacked me.”
“Because you slept with his girlfriend!”
“I didn’t sleep with anyone!”
“I’m not his girlfriend!” I added.
“There were eyewitnesses!”
I laughed. It was a misplaced laugh, but the eyewitness was Mrs. Janowski. She hardly qualified.
Three pairs of eyes targeted me.
“Hang on,” I said, squelching my laugh. “Can we call a truce for a minute? I’ll call Mrs. J. right now and she can tell everyone what she saw.”
I received wary nods and huffs. I pulled out my phone and pressed Mrs. Janowski’s contact.
“Put it on speaker,” T said, sinking into a chair. “Let’s get this over with.”
I pressed the speaker button just as Mrs. Janowski answered.
“Mrs. J., there seems to be a rumor that T and I slept together. You wouldn’t have said that to Curtis, would you?”
“Oh, we did have a little chat this morning,” she said.
Brett and Emmy scowled. She was still sitting on him, and I nearly had a twinge of jealousy. But that would mean I cared.
All right, I cared. And if she didn’t get her petite rump off him in ten seconds, there’d be another fight.
“What did you say to him?” I asked.
“Oh, just that T had slept over at your house. Did you see the tattoo on his bottom?”
I heard a dual growl from the cozy couple on the floor. T rubbed his hand over his face.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “he could have stayed over at my place instead. I have more room than you do. I’m sure spending the night on the couch wasn’t too comfortable.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed while staring at the couple whose faces began to clear and then became sheepish. “But he was hurt and needed the rest.”
“Next time, he can sleep at my place,” she said helpfully. “I have to get going. We’ll see you at the Hog soon.”
I said good-bye and ended the call. “I hope that clears things up,” I said. “Emmy, get off of Brett and repair T. I refuse to do it twice.”
Her eyes popped open and she scurried off Brett, murmuring her apologies. It wasn’t her fault, I knew, but it didn’t matter at the moment.
I turned to leave. Brett caught my arm.
“Let go,” I said, shaking off his grip. “I have to go to work.”
“I’m sorry, Mars,” he said, stepping closer. “Can I see you later?”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” I said.
“Please.”
I stared into his brown eyes and saw something that wasn’t there before. There was a haunted, lost look.
“Please,” he said again.
“I’m heading to the bar now,” I said. “If you feel like a drink, stop by later.”
“I will. And I’m sorry.”
“Perhaps you should be apologizing to T instead. You attacked the one friend that’s stuck by you.”
Brett glanced over at T and then returned his gaze to me.
“I have a lot to be sorry for.”
“No, you don’t. Not really,” I said, giving a small smile. I had forgiven him as soon as I spoke with his mother.
Maybe even before that.
* * *
“I’m not saying nothin’,” Bob stated to the squad ladies swarming him. “I couldn’t tell you anything even if I wanted to. I stay in the kitchen.”
“You can’t work at a place and know nothing about it,” Sylvia insisted.
“True. I know that I should keep my butt in the kitchen and not stick my nose in where it could get broken.”
“Like T’s nose,” I said.
“They broke his nose?” He frowned.
“No, but he was fighting against men with weapons.”
“And that is why I stay in the kitchen.”
“Why hasn’t the bar been raided yet?” Mrs. Janowski questioned. “Wouldn’t the cops have noticed this a long time ago?”
“Well, that I do have the answer to,” Bob said. He took a long, leisurely drink of beer.
“And?” we all chirped.
“And, I’m not going to tell you,” Bob said. “I can’t. The whole nose-breaking thing would pale in comparison to what could happen to me.”
“I don’t think a job is worth all that,” Edna said.
“I agree,” Mac said. “What do you need a job for anyway? I thought you were doing just fine.”
Bob half-heartedly shrugged. “I was . . . I am. I’m not doing it for the money.”
“Then what are you doing it for?” Hank asked.
“It can’t be for the cooking,” Jack added. “You could do that anywhere.”
Bob’s brows pinched together. “Listen, I have my reasons and they are my own. I’m not telling anyone anything, so drop it.” When we didn’t look ready to back down, he said, “Drop it or I’ll never set foot into this bar again.”
Hank and Jack immediately backed away. The ladies exchanged worried glances before they retreated to a corner table, whispering in a huddle. That left me and Mac, who was busy gulping his beer.
“I won’t say anything more,” I told Bob. “But remember we’re all here in case you need us.”
He nodded tightly.
The bar door opened, and a silhouette stepped through the door. The girls looked up from their huddle like anxious prairie dogs. When they saw who it was they swiftly ducked back down, whispering rapidly.
“Haven’t seen you in here for a while,” Jack said to Brett. “How’ve you been?”
“Alive,” he said, taking a barstool. “You?”
“Same,” Jack answered and then turned to me. “Is it okay if he stays, or do I have to kick him out?”
“You’d kick him out?” My brows rose.
“If you ask nicely,” he said with a smirk. “But I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
“My knight in shining armor,” I drawled. “Brett can stay.”
“So, you’re together again?” Mac asked.
“What happened to ol’ blue eyes?” Bob piped in.
Brett looked at me with the same question written in his eyes.
“He’s gone,” I said. “He moved to Boston.”
“No shit?” Bob asked. “What’s in Boston besides beans?”
“Love ’em baked beans,” Mac happily added.
“Harvard,” I answered.
“What?” Hank asked.
“Harvard,” I repeated. “Evan is going to start school at Harvard.”
“Is he coming back?” Mrs. Janowski hollered from her spot across the room.
I felt the telltale sign of a blush about to happen from all the unwanted attention and questions. The heat licked at my neck.
“He said he’d be home for Christmas,” I answered, keeping my eyes anywhere except on Brett.
Gazes shifted.
Brett cleared his throat. “Can I borrow Mars for a moment?” he asked Hank.
“As long as you bring her back,” he said.
“Unless you turn her into a blubbering watering pot,” Mac added. “Then you can keep her.”
“Try not to let that happen,” Jack warned.
Since I couldn’t stand another minute of being center in this horrible conversation, I quickly rounded the bar and headed to the door with Brett a step behind. Once safely outside, I turned to him.
He reached for my hand, wrapping his warm fingers around mine.
“Mars, I want to apologize for everything. I seem to keep hurting you, and that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”
I looked up into his eyes and knew he was sorry. And the truth was, I was done with anger. He should have called, yes. Even if it was just to say he’d arrived safely at home. But I can’t fault him for succumbing to demons he had no way of controlling. He was hurt, and I didn’t know or understand that at the time.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said. “I know you didn’t hurt me on purpose.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’m still sorry.”
“I’ve never lost anyone close, especially not to a killer. I didn’t know what you were going through, and I overacted. I should have known you would need time alone.”
“I never want time alone again,” he said. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “I was a terrible companion for myself.”
“You couldn’t have been too terrible,” I said. “You made it a whole month without kicking yourself out.”
He was about to respond and then stopped. “Why did you say a month?”
“Because that’s what your mom said.”
“You spoke to her?”
“She called me this morning.”
Brett groaned. “Do I want to know why?”
“She invited me to stay with her.”
Brett’s eyes lifted to mine. “Are you going to?”
“I said yes . . . unless you have a problem with it.”
“I might,” he said.
“Then I won’t,” I said, trying to push away the feeling of dismay. “I’ll call her and . . .”
“Are you still seeing Evan?”
“He’s in Boston.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said uncomfortably. “Are you still . . . hell,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“We aren’t attempting a long-distance relationship, if that’s what you mean. He said he’d call me when he came back at break, but it’s over. I knew it as soon as I saw his acceptance letter.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure Brett out. Did he not want me at all? My already-suffering ego was teetering on a rocky cliff.
Brett cursed. “What am I saying?” He dragged me into him, his arms circling tightly. “I’m not sorry, and you can’t stay with my parents.” His lips covered mine with possessive need. He pulled away too soon. Only a hair’s breadth away, his voice tickled my lips as he murmured, “You’re staying with me.”
That was all it took. I was soaring, my mind was reeling, and the rest of me was locked against Brett, feeling every inch of his body snug against mine. My hands wrapped around his shoulders and neck, tightening our already-sandwiched embrace.
It felt perfect. Like a winter’s day at home in front of a fire . . . with spiked hot cocoa. And marshmallows. And Brett.
And Brett.
Hearing whispers from the sidelines shattered any kiss-induced fantasy I was imagining.
“I told you they were kissing.”
“It’s about time.”
“How long do you think they’ll be?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“No, but this is hardly a proper place to be kissing.”
A snort cut through the whispers. “Edna, you think that every place is improper, including the bedroom.”
“What’s this now?” a voice asked over the whispers. “Oh. They’re kissing.”
“It doesn’t look half bad when a handsome couple kisses. But the rest of the world isn’t so pretty. Rather like overexerted water buffalos trying to mate. Had a video of me once. I deleted it.”
I dropped my head, burying it into Brett’s chest. I heard the rumble of his laughter.
“Are they all out here?” I asked.
He pried back a fraction to tilt my chin up. I stared into his mischievous eyes. “Yes. Would you care to give an encore?”
“No. But you could come over tonight for a private encore.”
He smiled and brushed his lips against mine. “God, yes.”
“Would you two get out of here?” Hank scolded. “Take the damn day off. You work too much.”
I smiled at Hank. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said.
“I know,” he muttered. “You’re always here.”
“But we have to discuss the cooking competition. It’s the day after tomorrow.”
Brett tugged at my hand, leading me away.
“And Mrs. J.,” I called, “you and the ladies stay out of trouble tonight.”
“Is she always like this?” Sylvia asked. “I didn’t realize it. A man is leading her to the bedroom and she’s barking orders.”
“Don’t listen to her, Mars,” Ida said. “Bedroom commands are allowed as well.”
“As long as he’s enough of a man to take orders,” Sylvia stated slyly.
“Do you?” Ida asked Brett with a twinkle in her eye.
“I’m hers to command,” he replied, amused. Then he turned to me. “Shall we?”
God, yes.