Bran was ready to be done. Spy work was boring. No one had told him that. No, when Case started telling stories of his spy days, it was all about the lovely women and bullets flying and that time he’d gotten blown up. According to Case, it had been in a heroic blaze of glory that had cost him a broken leg and one truck he still mourned to this day.
Not once had Case mentioned hours spent in avant-garde galleries listening in on the conversations of the rich and clueless.
He’d heard more about aesthetics and clean lines and statement-making opportunities to last a lifetime. His brother needed to throw in his chaos so he and Carly could get the hell out of here and maybe he could seduce her. That would be a good way to spend the rest of the evening.
Where was she? He slipped past where Patricia was posing for pictures, hoping she didn’t see him. She seemed to be playing the grande dame of the show. She stood with the artist as someone from the press took pictures of them.
She was different from what he’d imagined. Cold, yes, but she seemed to like Carly. When they’d spoken earlier, she’d seemed to actually give a damn whether Carly was happy or not. Was that an act? He wasn’t sure.
Once again he had to wonder if he was the right man for this job. He so often took people at face value, not wanting to look deeper.
He walked up to one of the few people he’d met tonight that he felt comfortable talking to. Mike was the cameraman and they’d talked some football before he’d had to go and set up for his shots. He also might know where Carly was and how long this was going to take.
Because his brother was totally right about a few things. He would rather spend his time seducing the girl than following around after Patricia Cain and her band of creepy hangers-on.
He was starting to think he might want the girl more than anything he’d wanted in his life. “Hey, Mike. Have you seen Carly?”
Mike nodded, his expression pained. “Yeah, I talked to her about a minute ago. She’s setting things up with the family for the last shot of the night. She was going to talk to Patricia and then go back and help Tim finish. I got a horrible headache all of a sudden.”
“Yeah, I can buy that. This whole place gives me a headache.”
“I thought I’d try some caffeine.” Mike flipped open a red can of soda. “Sometimes that helps. It’s already clearing up. I think that room is way too hot. I’ll be glad to get back to filming in studio. I hate these on-location shoots. It’s always in cramped quarters inside.”
No one expected Patricia to shoot outdoors. He and Carly had eaten dinner al fresco. They’d sat at a pretty bistro table, their knees brushing from time to time. Her small backyard was a mini oasis of peace and calm.
Something about her seemed to settle him.
Where was the chaos his brother had talked about? He almost dreaded it now because it could cause Carly discomfort. Hopefully switching out Jasmine’s bodyguard for a wild asshole had done the trick. Patricia had seemed perfectly annoyed that her stepdaughter had caused a scene.
“Any idea how long it’s going to take?” Maybe he should pull the car around and get her out of here before the chaos started. While she would have to deal with the fallout, she wouldn’t be directly in the line of fire.
“I can get them in and out in about fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops, if the old man gives us trouble. He likes to be the center of attention so he sometimes causes some drama with his wife.”
“How long have you been working for them?”
Mike took a long swallow before answering. “Too long, if you ask me. I started out filming a couple of reality shows for Kenneth’s network. When he and Patricia got hitched, I filmed it for Patricia’s Paradise. Apparently I’m good at finding her best angles and here I am. It’s not too bad if you ignore the hideous infighting. I’m mostly ignored and that’s how I like it. As long as I’m getting paid, I’ll keep my head down. Carly’s the one who bears the brunt of it.”
“I don’t know. She seems to be pretty well treated to me.” All night long Patricia had seemed on her best behavior. She hadn’t once raised her voice or asked anything overly taxing of Carly.
Mike rolled his eyes. “Shit. I should have known. That is all for you. You need to watch yourself or you’ll fall into her trap.”
“Trap?”
“She likes to play around with young men,” Mike explained. “Those flirtations are the only time she’s ever easy to be around. She’s courting you in her own weird way, and part of that means looking like an actual human being around you.”
“You have to be wrong about that. I explained that I’m one hundred percent involved with Carly.”
“Another reason for her to go after you, buddy. That might be the best reason of all. She can’t stand the fact that Carly is better than she is at everything that truly counts. Oh, she wouldn’t put it that way. I’m sure she would say making money and collecting power counts more than anything, but she hates how much she relies on Carly. She hates that everyone loves Carly. She definitely hates that Carly’s Cinderella to her wicked stepmother. Despite the fact that she won’t ever change her behavior, she wants to be loved.”
“She’s a narcissist.”
“A classic one,” Mike agreed. “I’m sure in her head she’s the hard worker and Carly is only along for the ride. Look, I shouldn’t talk about the boss this way and I hope you can keep this between us, but you seem like a nice guy. You should know to take anything she says with a grain of salt. And watch your back.”
Bran knew good advice when he heard it. “I will. I have no interest in anyone but Carly, though I will admit I find the entire thing fascinating. Like a train wreck, but fascinating.”
Mike’s lips quirked up. “It’s a fucked-up soap opera around here.”
He was about to gently steer the conversation toward Francine Wells when his cell vibrated. He pulled it out. One text message from Carly.
Maybe she’d finished up. Or more likely she was telling him she needed more time. Damn. He wanted to leave.
“I’m feeling so much better,” Mike said.
Bran pulled up the text.
CO
What did that mean? He texted her back.
Do you need me? Is CO a riddle? What do I get if I figure it out?
Maybe she was planning a surprise. He could get into that. The night wouldn’t be a waste if he could get her somewhere private.
“Is there a room in this place that might go with the letters CO?” Bran asked. Mike knew the place way better than he did. “Carly texted me. CO. All I can come up with is commanding officer.”
It didn’t seem like a fantasy Carly would have.
Mike frowned. “I don’t know what she meant, but it makes me think. I’m feeling so much better since getting out of that room. I think we need to go check for a gas leak.”
“Carbon monoxide? CO is the chemical symbol for carbon monoxide and you sent Carly back to that room where the gas heater is. Call 911 right now.” Bran didn’t stop to ask more questions. He took off running down the hall.
That room was small. If the door was shut, it would fill with colorless, odorless gas quickly and it would overwhelm anyone who was in there. It might even incapacitate them so quickly all a person could do was get out one quick text.
“Get everyone out of here now!” He shouted because if he was right, then it would affect the entire place eventually. And it posed the risk of igniting. “Get these people out right now.”
He could hear the chaos that started behind him, but his only thought was to get to Carly.
Maybe it was all a mistake and he would find out she really did have commanding officer fantasies. He would be completely embarrassed when the cops showed up and all he had to show them was one horny girl and his overreaction.
That was all this was. An overreaction.
She probably hadn’t meant anything at all. The text had likely been a mistake. He was going to run in and scare the hell out of her and then they would laugh and he would have screwed up the entire mission and you know what, he was okay with that.
Anything as long as she was okay.
Anything so she wasn’t a broken doll on the floor. So she wasn’t limp and dead and cold by the time he got to her, by the time he found the courage to reach for her. Anything so he didn’t have to look at another dead girl and know he was the reason she wouldn’t breathe again.
“Carly!” He shouted because he could already see that someone had closed the door.
He didn’t hear a thing except the sound of people leaving the gallery en masse. Behind him it sounded like Mike was ordering everyone out, getting them all through the front doors and out onto the street.
He reached for the door, but it didn’t budge. Fear gripped him. She was in there. He knew she was. She was stuck in there and how long did she have? Not enough time for him to deal with the situation rationally. He needed to go a little crazy.
“Baby, if you can hear me, back up. I’m coming in.” When he heard nothing, he prayed he wasn’t about to make a bad situation worse. He backed up and then tossed his body at the door. Pain flared through him, but the door gave way.
Heat blasted out of the room but he saw her.
She was crumpled up on the floor, her cell phone in one hand. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth because he couldn’t get sick now. He had to be strong for her, had to get her out of the building. Already he could feel some of the effects of the gas. His stomach churned and he could feel the beginnings of a headache start.
None of that mattered. Only Carly mattered.
He knelt down and picked her up, hauling her high against his chest. There wasn’t time to figure out where the leak was or to turn it off. There was only time to run like hell and pray nothing worse happened.
Carly was dead weight in his arms. He made his way back out to the hall and into the gallery.
Please. Please don’t let her die. Don’t let me be too late this time.
Bran ran out the doors, the night air hitting him. That smell of salt air was the sweetest thing.
“What is going on?” Patricia demanded.
He ignored her, carrying Carly out and onto the patch of grass as he heard the sirens start up. He laid her down gently and put a hand to her head. “Breathe. I need you to breathe.”
“I asked you what was happening, young man,” Patricia said again. “And what is wrong with my assistant? Why on earth is she wearing my cape? Did she get drunk and ruin this entire evening? I want some answers.”
“And I’m telling you to back off if you want to live,” he practically snarled. The only reason he responded at all was the movement of Carly’s chest. She was breathing. She was alive. Now he had to hope she hadn’t been down long enough to cause real damage. “There was a gas leak in your precious gallery that damn near killed two of your employees, so you need to back off or I swear I’ll go to the television cameras that will inevitably show up and explain to them that all you gave a damn about was your clothing. Do you understand me?”
Her eyes flared, but she backed off.
“Was trying to not get it wrinkled,” Carly said, her voice a bit shaky. “Fabric like this wrinkles in the heat and you wouldn’t have liked that.” Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him the sweetest half smile. “You knew chemistry.”
Relief swept through him and he held her to him. “I suck at chemistry but luckily Mike doesn’t. You gave me a scare.”
“We should move everyone farther away,” Patricia muttered, seeming to finally give a damn about something. “There could be a fire. We should all get to a safe distance until the fire department can sort it out. Carly, you should go to the hospital.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Bran vowed. If anyone thought they were separating him from her, they needed to think again.
Patricia nodded, though she wasn’t looking at them anymore. Her eyes were wandering, as though looking for something she couldn’t find. “All right. I’ll see to getting everyone out of here. Brandon, I believe we should have a talk when things are calmer. Perhaps you could put me in touch with your employer.”
He simply nodded, but a sick feeling had started in his gut again, and this time it had nothing to do with the gas.
This was the chaos his brother had promised.
He and Drew were about to have a long, maybe bloody talk.
—
Bran tucked her into bed hours later. It wasn’t long before dawn, but he thought it would be a miracle if he got any sleep at all. He hadn’t talked to his brother. Even as he’d carried her in, he hadn’t said a word to his brother.
“Where am I?” Her eyes opened, but he didn’t see any fear in them. Merely curiosity. “This is not my bedroom, Brandon Lawless.” Her eyes widened in obvious panic. “Oh, God. I called you by your name.”
“Hush, it’s all right.” He sat down beside her and smoothed back her hair. “We’re safe and you’re fine and everything is all right. I brought you home with me. We’re at the condo in Palm Coast, where you will be recovering for a few days while I ensure that everything is safe and sound at your place.”
“You think this was DiLuca? I thought you paid him this afternoon. God, I still feel so bad about that.”
He thought it was something else entirely, but he wasn’t sure he would ever tell Carly what he thought had really happened. “He has been paid off. I wired him the money before dinner. I got confirmation that he has it and he’s cleared the debt so he’s got no reason to come after you. And I doubt this would be his style. I think I’m going to find out what’s going on before I let you out in the open again. I already have someone working on it. Now, you rest and relax and I’ll handle everything.”
“I’m the world’s worst spy partner,” she said with a frown. “I cause more problems than I solve.”
“Nonsense. I already learned more at that single party than we could have in a year’s worth of research. Now go to sleep.”
She sighed as she laid back. He’d managed to get her into scrubs at the hospital, and they would have to serve as pajamas this evening. She looked soft and sweet all cuddled up in the bed. “Where are you going to be?”
“I’ve got some issues to clear up and then I’ll be right outside on the couch.” The way he had been for a solid week. His back ached at the thought but at least the couch here was bigger than the one at her place.
She reached out, her hand finding his arm. “Don’t sleep out there. When you’re done, come to bed with me. Just to sleep. I won’t attack you. I’m feeling a little weak so you’re safe from me. I can’t stand the thought of you on the couch. Please sleep with me.”
After what she’d been through, could he tell her no? Could he explain that sleeping next to her and not taking her would be way more uncomfortable than the couch? Naturally not. He would do whatever it took to make her feel safe again. Especially since it had been his own brother’s fucked-up-all-to-hell plan that had nearly killed her. “I’ll be back in a while. You get some sleep. The doctor said you would be fine, but you’re supposed to rest for a few days. I’ve already told Patricia you won’t be back until Monday.”
“I can’t miss work.” She shook her head. “You can’t tell Patricia stuff like that. She doesn’t take orders.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Yes, I can. It’s all arranged. Like I said, you rest and leave everything else to me.”
He stood and walked to the door.
“Bran?”
“Yes?”
“Did it work?”
He closed his eyes for a second, the question threatening to make him lose it. She didn’t ask it in an angry fashion. She was merely checking to see if they’d done their job. “It worked. She wants a meeting with Taggart. I think it scared her for some reason. It definitely threw her off balance.”
“Good.” Her eyes closed again.
He stalked out of the room, managing to close the door behind him quietly when what he wanted to do was slam it as hard as he could. He strode down the hall, searching for his brother. It was time to have it out. Naturally his brother was waiting for him.
“Why don’t you explain what happened and why you haven’t answered my calls or texts for the last five hours, Bran. All I got was one snippy text explaining that you were coming out here and I should vacate the master bedroom. Did you think that was acceptable?” Drew was standing in the living room. Only Hatch was present at this late-night meeting. Ellie and Riley had flown back to New York the previous morning and Case and Mia had left for Dallas hours before. “Do you have any idea what you put us through?”
Bran had known this was a conversation best had in person. And with a minimum of words. Drew was worried about what he’d been put through?
He walked right up to his asshole brother and popped him in the face. His hand felt like it cracked with pain, but that was just one more ache the night had brought. “You’re a fucking asshole, Drew, and I swear if you ever put her in that kind of danger again, I will walk right into Patricia Cain’s office and I’ll give her everything. Do you understand me?”
Drew backed off, his hand going to his face, eyes flaring. “What the fuck are you talking about, Bran?”
Hatch got right in the middle, his hands coming out to keep them apart. “Everyone calm down. There has obviously been a misunderstanding here.”
Naturally Hatch would take Drew’s side. “There’s no misunderstanding. Carly nearly died tonight. I had to break down that door, Drew. How could you? How could you possibly think that was all right? You didn’t tell me because you wanted me to have an honest reaction? Here it is, brother. I’m taking her out of this and if you try to stop me, I’ll make good on my threat.”
Drew stared at him as if trying to process. “You think I did that? You think I started a gas leak in a building where my brother was? Where you could have gotten hurt? Do you even know me? Do you know what I went through to make sure you were safe?”
Safe? Drew thought he’d been safe? The impulse to hit his brother again rose like a giant hammer, straightening his spine, making his fists pulse. His mind raced with images of some of the safety he’d been given in his childhood.
Hiding in a dirty closet for two days because his foster father was drunk and threatened to beat him to death. Two days without food or water. Two days without a bathroom.
Safe? He’d never once been fucking safe. Not since the night Riley had awakened him and the monster had started his chase.
Hatch stepped in front of him. “Bran, don’t do this right now. You look at me. You’re here with me. Do you understand?”
Only the feel of Hatch’s hands on his face, his voice calling him back, made him stand down. He hated this weakness, hated that it welled up so unexpectedly at times. He wasn’t a child anymore, but he seemed forever stuck in that nasty house. No matter how much money Drew tossed his way, he would always be the kid no one wanted. He shoved it all aside. This wasn’t a therapy session. This was about Carly. “I understand my brother is a ruthless bastard who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
Hatch stepped back, all tenderness gone from his expression. “You stop right now and explain yourself. Are you trying to say you think Drew had anything to do with that gas leak?”
“How do you know there was a gas leak if you didn’t do it? You wanted to cause some chaos. You got it.” But even as he said the words, he was coming down from his volcanic rage.
“I was there, Bran. I was across the street waiting to send in the agent I hired to protest against Cain Corp’s history of animal abuse. She was going to rush Patricia and scare the crap out of her and make a scene. I wanted to wait until the end of the night for Carly’s sake. I thought it would be easier on her. That was the chaos I was going to cause,” Drew said, striding into the kitchen and opening the freezer. “Instead I had to stay away and flip the hell out when I realized that building could explode and my baby brother was still in it.”
“I had to hold him back,” Hatch said with a shake of his head.
“If you ever do that to me again, I swear I’ll cut you off from everything,” Drew vowed, pointing at Hatch.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that all night long.” A long huff issued from Hatch and he stalked over to the bar and poured himself a drink. “What the hell were you going to do besides screw up everything? Did you honestly think he would have left with you? He wasn’t going to do anything until he got that girl out.”
“I wasn’t planning on giving him a choice,” Drew shot back.
Shit. Ever since that moment that he’d realized Carly was in danger, all he could think about was making someone pay. He’d meant every word he’d said. He’d intended to pull Carly out and damn the consequences. Not that he’d talked to her about the decision, and she’d probably want to have a say.
“I’m sorry.” Why had he gone to the worst possible place? Was he always going to do that? It seemed to be his way. The minute something bad happened he went to the darkest explanation possible. “I thought it was you. Hell, Carly asked me if it worked. Which it did. Patricia requested a meeting with my boss.”
“Carly thinks I put her in that kind of danger?” Drew asked, his voice tight.
“No.” He wasn’t going to let Drew think that. Carly had been smarter than him, it seemed. Or perhaps she simply had less history and a more optimistic outlook. “She thinks it has something to do with her mob debt, but she was smart enough to know that it could have sent Patricia right over the edge.”
Drew slapped an ice pack over the left side of his face. “At least one of you has faith in me.”
“Again with the sorry. It’s been a rough night.”
Hatch slumped down on the couch, Scotch in hand. “Is she really all right? How was she the only one who had to go to the hospital? I don’t think we understand what happened.”
“I would have understood a hell of a lot more if you’d let me go in,” Drew complained.
That would have been real chaos. “Hatch was right to hold you back. We needed people out of the building, not rushing in. And she wasn’t the only one who felt the effects. The cameraman had been in there for a few minutes and he came out complaining about a headache.”
“Go back to the beginning.” Drew sat down beside Hatch. “Why on earth was the gas on? It’s not cold at all.”
Bran quickly described the art exhibit and the signature piece. He managed to get through it with a minimum of snark, which he thought was very professional of him. “At some point in time, a leak must have started. Carly and I had been in the room earlier in the evening and we didn’t have any trouble. Then later Mike went in to set up his camera and that was when he walked out complaining of a headache. Carly had gone in to make all the final preparations with Tim.”
Who he hadn’t seen at all. If Tim had been in that room, why had he found Carly in there alone? Why hadn’t he seen Tim running down the hall or milling around afterward? He’d talked to Mike and several of the other employees, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Tim.
“So this was some kind of accident?” Hatch asked. “Do you think they screwed something up with the stove thing when they were messing with all those cameras?”
No, he was starting to think something much more sinister was going on. It made some sense when he’d thought it was his brother. Though even in that case he hadn’t been thinking clearly. Now that he was out of the situation, he had a few questions. “She was locked in.”
Drew sat up, his jaw tightening. “Locked in the room with the gas leak?”
He could still remember the terror he’d felt when he couldn’t get that door open. “Yes, it was locked, but I didn’t have time to figure out how. I broke it open and got her out of there. She was locked in from the outside. I can assure you she tried to get out. When she came to she told me she’d tried to get the door open and then she’d gotten too dizzy to walk. She barely managed to text me a message.”
If she hadn’t, he would have stood there talking to Mike while she was breathing in poison. She would have died while he joked about football or something else inane. He would have found her on the floor. Another girl he couldn’t save.
“Hey, she did and she’s fine,” Drew said. “Are you sure the door couldn’t have simply been stuck? That gallery is in one of the older buildings in the city. Sometimes doors stick.”
He thought back, trying to remember every detail. “I tried the doorknob. It turned, but the door wouldn’t open. So I threw my body at it and managed to get through. The question is why was the door closed at all? The camera was still set up, but Carly was the only one in the room. Tim, the junior cameraman, was supposed to be there waiting for the last shot, but he was nowhere to be found.”
“All right. We need more than a first name.” Hatch pulled out his phone and started typing. “I’ll fill in Case on everything that went down. Would this Tim person be an employee?”
“I think so. Carly will know more.” He wasn’t going to wake her up now, but in the morning they could all sit down and go over the events of the evening. “Tell Case we need a meeting with his brother. I don’t think Patricia will accept talking to anyone but Ian. And I want to see all the reports on the gas leak as soon as they’re available.”
“I’ve already got a friend working that angle. The fire department will be investigating. As soon as they know anything, we should have some information, too.” Drew looked back at the bedroom. “Is she really all right? She didn’t look good when you carried her out.”
“The EMTs got her oxygen. She wasn’t in there for more than a few minutes.” His brain was whirling. “What if someone screwed up? What if that was meant to be a slow leak? Carbon monoxide is odorless, colorless. Carly survived because it got to her fast and she hit the floor.”
“With a slow leak, sometimes no one even realizes they’re being poisoned.” Hatch took up his thinking. “If they’d closed the door during that filming, it could have gone poorly. Especially if it was locked from the outside. They would have done their work and then found themselves getting sick but with no explanation or real capacity to understand. And with more people in the room there would be less oxygen.”
“The filming was supposed to be private. No one would have gone back there for twenty or thirty minutes.” Now that he was thinking about it, all kinds of dark theories made sense. “It’s more than enough time to kill a bunch of people. All our friend Tim would have to do was open the door again and the whole thing would be viewed as a horrible accident.”
“That’s pure supposition,” Drew replied. “You can’t know that. It was very likely an accident. Otherwise, why would Carly have been the one locked inside? Who would want to hurt her?”
There was something about the way Patricia had acted afterward that made Bran think. “I don’t think it was Carly. She was wearing something of Patricia’s. A distinct cape that everyone saw her wearing in and that was supposed to be featured in the final shot of the night. Carly had talked about it on our way there. I was asking her about what she had to do tonight and one of the things she joked about was making sure the lighting worked to take ten years off her boss’s face and that the silly designer cape looked white and not cream on film. The cameramen would have known about it.”
“You think this Tim person was trying to kill Patricia?” Hatch asked with a whistle. “Well, I wouldn’t blame him. I wanted to kill her several times over the years.”
“We also need to look into a woman named Francine Wells.” The night hadn’t been a complete clusterfuck. He had found a few things out. “Do you know that name, Hatch?”
Hatch nodded after a moment. “She worked for the company back in the day. Is she involved with Patty?”
Well, that answered one question. “According to Patricia’s stepson, Francine was Patricia’s first Carly.”
Hatch nodded. “Yeah, I always wondered about that. The Patty I knew could barely boil water. Oh, she was always interested in making everything as fancy as possible, but she wasn’t what I would call a homemaker. She hired decorators and caterers. I’m not surprised to hear there was someone else behind her.”
“Apparently Francine died a few years back or they had some kind of falling out,” Bran explained. “Since then she’s used Carly to prop her up idea-wise. It’s why she went to such careful lengths to force Carly to keep working for her, and it’s why I fear if we don’t do something, in a couple of years, she’ll do something worse to maintain the status quo.”
“The Patty I knew wouldn’t let a good thing go,” Hatch agreed. “Not if there was any way she could manage it. She’ll find something else to hold over Carly’s head once she can’t threaten her sister anymore. I can promise you that. She’s planning it right now. It’s why she’s got so damn many enemies.”
“Enemies who are willing to hurt a lot of people to get to her. I think this Tim person was hired to do this job. I think Patricia was the target and he thought he had her when Carly walked in. Maybe he was supposed to wait until everyone got there or maybe he simply panicked, but I definitely don’t think this was an accident.”
“We can’t know anything until we get those reports back in.” Drew winced as he took the ice pack off. “Damn, Bran, when did you learn to hit so hard?”
Sometime after he figured out no one was coming to save him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. If I had I would have known it wasn’t you.”
“I would never put you in that kind of danger. I hate the fact that you’re involved in this at all,” Drew admitted.
“They were my parents, too.” He could say the words all he wanted, but he knew it wouldn’t change his brother’s mind. In Drew’s head he was now the head of the family and the rest of them were all still kids. It was best to stay on task. “I’ll want those reports, and let me know when Patricia can meet with Taggart. Once that’s set, we hold on until we get to California. We get the information we need and we get out.”
And then he wouldn’t have a reason to be close to Carly anymore. He would go back to Austin and resume his usual round of work and strippers and booze, and not giving a shit if he woke up the next day.
But she would be out of danger. Now that he was fairly certain someone was after her boss, he wanted her to be safe.
“I should probably get to bed,” Drew said with a long sigh. “If Big Tag is going to be here soon, I need all the rest I can get. I swear that is the single most sarcastic bastard I’ve ever met. Why Mia had to pick a family of mercenaries to attach herself to I will never understand.”
He was pretty sure it had something to do with the way his sister smiled whenever her own personal Taggart walked in a room. “I’ll go to bed, too.”
Hatch stared at him. “Has it progressed that far? The last I heard you were sleeping on the couch.”
“I still am.” Why did he feel a blush creep across his skin? He was a man. He didn’t need to explain where he was sleeping or with whom. Hell, he never did. He’d slept his way through a couple of strip clubs in his time. So why did it feel different with Carly? Why did he find himself fumbling and trying to explain? “She’s scared. She was hurt tonight and she’s in foreign surroundings and she doesn’t want to be alone. It’s not like that.”
Oh, it was so like that, but he wasn’t going to follow his instincts. He cared about her too much to put her through what would inevitably happen. He would walk away in the end because he wasn’t good for anyone over the long haul.
Hell, the truth was he was afraid of sleeping with her. He had terrible dreams, but he would get into bed with her and hold her. He would nap tomorrow sometime.
“You’re seriously not sleeping with her?” Drew asked, a frown on his face.
“I thought you would be thrilled.” He didn’t understand why his brother wasn’t fist-pumping at the news. “I told you. I like the girl. I want to protect the girl.”
“You also want the girl,” Drew argued.
“That’s precisely why he’s not sleeping with her.” Hatch knocked back the last of his Scotch.
“He sleeps with everyone else. Is this another one of those emotional things I don’t understand?”
Sometimes his genius brother was a little out of touch. “There’s nothing to understand.”
Hatch obviously wasn’t going to let it go. “I told you this about Bran. He’s got it in his head he’s damaged goods. He sleeps with a woman if he’s sure he’s giving her something she needs.”
“He gave her a million dollars,” Drew pointed out in that oh-so-logical way of his.
Hatch groaned. “She’s not a prostitute. Not everything is transactional, you robot. He likes her and that means he thinks he doesn’t deserve her. He thinks he doesn’t deserve any of this and I’m not exactly sure why because he’s a shutdown motherfucker who doesn’t talk to anyone.”
“He talks in his sleep.” Drew’s eyes came up to meet his. “He talks about Mandy. I haven’t interfered because I want you to trust me enough to tell me, but I’m beginning to think I’ll have to.”
“Stay out of it, Andrew. You weren’t there then and you don’t get to play at fixing me now. If you don’t like who I am, then tell me to walk out.” He hated having his back against a wall, and he certainly wasn’t going to have a therapy session with his brother. No one needed to know about it. It was his burden to bear. It was his secret to keep. His.
He turned and started toward the bedroom door. He felt toxic. He didn’t want to go in there. He wanted to get in a car, find a bar, and do what he did best. Obliterate himself.
“She’ll need a new job,” Drew said, his voice even, as though he didn’t want to spark another argument. “It would be quite easy to find her one. You like her. There’s no reason for you not to have a relationship with her.”
“Dating much, big brother?” He could be such a hypocrite. It wasn’t like Drew was out there searching for his one true love, either. “It seems to me you spend all your time plotting and planning. Leave me out of those plans. If you don’t want me to walk out, you’ll let me handle Carly the way I see fit.”
Before his brother could say another word, Bran opened the door and strode inside. He closed it and stopped, taking a deep breath. Fuck. What would he do if she came to Austin? He was barely managing to keep his hands off her here.
She’d left the light on. To his right was the darkened bathroom and to his left a short hall with two closets on either side. The smaller closet held men’s clothes, the larger one a mass of pretty female outfits and accessories. Case’s friends stayed here on vacation. He couldn’t remember their names but their happy marriage and family were stamped across the place. Pictures of their wedding day were framed in the hall alongside snapshots of the couple and their small boy playing on the beach.
Happy, normal people. People who had probably never been through a single shitty thing in their lives. People who hadn’t had to fight to survive. They lived in pretty places and had pretty lives. Like Carly deserved.
He shouldn’t walk in there, shouldn’t crawl into bed with her. It would lead to the inevitable because his brother was right. He’d wanted Carly the minute he’d seen her. He wanted her warmth and all that sweet affection she had inside her waiting to get out. She would lavish it on the right man.
He wasn’t the right man.
He was a toxic mess waiting to explode and he would do it all over her world.
“Bran?”
He tried to let go of the fight, of the tension of the night, and walked into the bedroom. He couldn’t walk out on her. Not after what she’d been through. “I’m here. You’re supposed to be asleep.”
She sat up. “It was a little hot and I couldn’t stand the scrubs another second. I found a T-shirt in the closet. Do you think it’s okay for me to borrow it?”
It wasn’t a T-shirt. It was a freaking tank top and it clung to her every curve. “I’m sure it’s fine. Are you sure you want me to stay with you?”
“Unless you don’t want to.” Her voice went low. “I thought it would be okay. If it bothers you . . .”
He kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. If she was comfortable, he could be the same. He shoved his slacks off and got down to his boxers. And just for good measure turned on the ceiling fan. Cold. Cold was his friend. “It’s fine, sweetheart. I assure you there’s nothing about sleeping with you that bothers me.”
Except the part where he didn’t cover her with his body, spread her legs, and slide inside her like he was coming home. Only that part bothered him.
Damn it. He was getting a hard-on. He flipped the lights off.
“Are you sure?” She sounded very small and that killed him.
Who had made her feel that way? Her husband? People in her past?
“Am I sure I would rather sleep with a gorgeous woman in a comfortable bed than suffering on a couch? I’m pretty positive about that.” He slid in on the side opposite from her. “Besides, we’re practically living together for the next month or so. We should get used to it.”
She turned on her side. Despite the fact that he’d turned off the light, he could still see the outline of her form in the shadows. “Good, because it seems silly for you to sleep on the couch when you would be happier here. I would fit on the couch better.”
That was so never happening. He would never let her sleep on a couch or suffer any discomfort when he could do it for her. He rolled to his side, enjoying the intimate feel of being alone with her. “Let’s be practical and sleep together. I’m going to warn you, though. I don’t sleep with anyone. I have some bad dreams.”
Her hand came out, brushing along his cheek. “I can handle some bad dreams. Bran, I’ve been alone for so long. Tonight kind of sucked. I would love to sleep in your arms. I know it doesn’t mean anything.”
This was the moment that he should say something, but he moved so damn quickly there wasn’t time for the logical and rational words to come out. He shifted and found his arms wrapped around her, her head nestling against his chest. “It’s okay now. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I can get you away from all of this if you want.”
Her arm moved over the skin of his chest as she cuddled close. “I’m fine. What happened tonight was horrible, but I’ll be more careful. I want to see this through. I need to. I need to do something good. I’ve been a dreadful coward the last few years.”
She’d protected herself and her sister. There was nothing cowardly about that, but he wasn’t going to force her out. It would hurt her in a way he couldn’t. He would have to be more careful with her. There was so little left that she would have to do. All they needed her for was to distract Patricia during the party in California while they searched for the hard drive. Then she would be free. She had something to gain from this, too.
She could go to Kenny Jones and he would do anything it took to make her a star. She would have a good life, and somewhere along the way she would meet a man who could love her the way she deserved to be loved.
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, loving how warm he suddenly felt. He was always so cold, but being close to her settled him somehow. “We’ll do it together.”
She moved even closer, her head rubbing against his chest. “Together. That sounds nice. You were great tonight, Bran. Did I tell you that?”
Her breathing evened out and she was asleep.
She’d waited for him. She’d been scared and had the crappiest of nights and she’d waited for him to come to bed so she could sleep.
He held her close and for the first time in years found some peace.