“Get out!” Alexandra’s gaze flew from Russ to Brent. “Both of you.”
“Relax, Alexandra,” Brent said. “We just want to talk.”
“Get out of my home. Now.”
“It’s not your home. It’s Kendall’s. Her name is the only one on the lease.”
Her face drained of color. That he would use that excuse meant Kendall had shared that detail with him—to justify letting him in after Alexandra had banned him from the apartment? Betrayal cut deep.
“It’s my legal residence. On my driver’s license. I’m calling the police.”
Russ smirked and held up the cordless handset. “How are you going to do that without a phone?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out the BlackBerry. Her fingers shook as she jammed the headset plug into the jack and dialed 9-1-1.
“Where did you get that?” Brent asked.
“None of your fucking business. Now get out before the police get here and throw your ass back in jail.”
Russ yanked the headphone cord, pulling it from the jack. “Fuck you, bitch. Who did you drink champagne with and screw in my hotel room? The same prick you were with last night? Or is this a new john? Your slutty behavior will just back up my statement that you spiked the drink yourself because you wanted to play.”
Her whole body shook as he loomed over her. The call had gone through, but without the headset plugged in, the operator wouldn’t hear a damn thing.
She took a step back, but the four-inch heels got the best of her and she tripped, falling backward. She landed on her ass, slamming her head into the wall behind her.
Russ gave her a nasty grin. “You little cunt. You’ve fucked everything up with my work. Making a fool of me in front of my bosses.”
“That was your doing. You shouldn’t have put GHB in my drink.”
“How do you know it was me? It could have been the bartender. Or some other guy you met.”
“They found the vial in your pocket.”
“It was planted on me by the cop.”
For a moment, the thought flashed in her mind that Jay could have spiked her drink while they were at the bar. But no. She’d finished that drink. The bartender made her a second one, on the house.
How twisted was it that Russ made her second-guess what she knew to be true?
Shit. Would a jury believe her? Would they believe Jay?
Russ was the older of the two men. Probably senior in the company hierarchy. Would he be more convincing?
“See, sweetheart? You fucked up, and now I’m going to make you pay.”
All at once, she remembered how thin the walls were in the apartment and let out a shrill scream. She banged her elbow on the wall at her back and shouted, “Call nine-one—”
Russ grabbed the front of her dress, yanked her to her feet, and slapped a hand over her mouth. He shoved her backward. Head and shoulders slammed into the wall. Pain radiated from the base of her skull.
“Fuck, Russ. You said you wouldn’t touch her. We need to go.”
She kicked at Russ’s shins and scratched at his face.
Brent shoved Russ in the shoulder, pushing him toward the door. “Out. We can’t be here when the cops arrive.”
Once her mouth was freed, she screamed again. Louder, using all the air in her lungs to push out as much noise as possible.
Russ gave up and followed Brent out the door.
Tears spilled down Alexandra’s cheek as she lunged for the cordless phone and again dialed 9-1-1.
Twenty minutes later, police arrived to take her statement. She learned no one else had called—her next-door neighbor wasn’t home, and knocks on the door across the hall also went unanswered.
They dusted for prints—the only proof the two men had been there, but it was Brent who’d held the phone, and he’d spent many hours in the apartment prior to today.
The only things she knew for certain Russ had touched were her and the cord to the BlackBerry headset. The cord was too thin to hold a fingerprint.
“He was here,” she whispered to the police officer. “They both were.”
“How did they get in?”
“Either my roommate gave Brent a key, or he had one copied from her keychain.”
The officer’s gaze swept down her body, taking in the cocktail dress and heels. “You got home at 10:15 a.m.?”
She nodded. They’d gone over that already.
“Who were you with last night?”
“What does that have to do with the men who invaded my apartment and assaulted me?”
“Can anyone confirm the time you arrived home?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“How about we go to the hospital and get you checked out?”
“My head hit the wall, but not hard enough to warrant a trip to the hospital.”
The other officer spoke. “Still, it’s a good idea. Make sure everything is fine. For our report. If this guy just got out on bail as you say he did, it will work in your favor for getting a restraining order. You can get a blood draw too while you’re there. To show you aren’t using GHB recreationally.”
She felt the blood drain from her face and wobbled on her feet at the implication. They didn’t want her to go to the hospital out of concern for her. They took one look at her morning-after dress and pegged her as someone deserving sexual assault and were suspicious of her claim against Russ.
“Do you treat all women like this, Officer Lindberg, or am I just lucky?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the one who needs to prove my innocence when I’m the victim here.”
“We’re just crossing our Ts here, Miss Vargas.”
“No, you’re not. You’re looking for ways to paint me as the villain. A man who intended to rape me was in my home, right after getting out of jail. He cut off my call to nine-one-one and shoved me into the wall. But I need to give you a blood sample?”
“I don’t see why it’s a problem if you don’t use drugs.”
“I don’t, but that’s neither here nor there when it comes to the man who assaulted me.”
“I think we’re done here,” Officer Williams said.
She followed both men to the door and locked it behind them—fat lot of good that would do if Russ now had a key—and leaned against it. She slowly slid down to the floor and let tears fall.
This was far from over, and if Russ Spaulding was going to face prosecution, it was clear she was the one who would be on trial.
Kendall arrived home thirty minutes after the locksmith arrived. He was still changing the dead bolt when she entered the living room with a flushed face. She cast a worried glance toward the entry hall where the locksmith worked. “What’s going on, Alex?”
“Your boyfriend and his buddy were in the apartment when I got home. They threatened and assaulted me.”
“Brent wouldn’t—”
“He did, Kendall. When I said I was calling the police, Brent withheld the cordless handset from me.” She nodded to the phone, which still sat on the kitchen table. “I told you I never wanted him in our apartment again, and you gave him a fucking key?”
“I didn’t! He never had a key.”
“Then how did he get in? Did you leave the door unlocked?”
“Of course not!”
“Then he had a copy made without telling you at some point.”
“Brent wouldn’t do that.”
“And yet he was here. With Russ. He held onto our only phone and watched Russ shove me into the wall.”
“What happened?”
As emotionlessly as she could, Alexandra gave a rundown of everything that happened, leaving out the cops’ implied accusations. Russ would have a field day if Kendall shared that tidbit with Brent.
“You let cops search my room? Not cool.”
“You know what’s also not cool? Being assaulted in my own home by a man who’d planned to drug and rape me.”
“It must’ve been Russ who copied my key. At Brent’s place, he could have gotten it from my purse. He was over often enough.”
“It doesn’t matter who made the key. Brent was here, with Russ, who threatened me. So I’m having the locks changed, and you are paying for it.
“I can’t afford that.”
“Then make Brent pay for it, because it sure as fuck isn’t my fault, but I need to be safe in my own home.” Her voice dropped. “Brent was here with him. They probably came here right from the arraignment. Are you really going to stay with a man who’s aiding and abetting the man who planned to rape me?”
“Brent doesn’t believe Russ did it. People at work, they have it out for Russ because he’s running some big project. Drake—one of the company owners—insisted on Russ as the project manager even over Talon’s objections. Talon has been trying to find a reason to get rid of him. This could be it.”
The words were a blow to the gut. “Listen to yourself making excuses for a guy you’ve only been dating for two months. We’ve been best friends and roommates for six years. This isn’t about an engineering project. It’s about sexual assault. My body. And you’re going to believe some bullshit conspiracy theory? Explain why he had a hotel room. And why he pressured me to take a drink.”
Tears spilled down Kendall’s face. “I don’t know, Alex. I just—oh my god. Russ really was going to rape you? And Brent was here? With Russ?”
It appeared her words had finally sunk in.
Alexandra nodded. “I’m going to get a restraining order against Russ. Brent too, if I can. He will not be allowed anywhere near this apartment as long as I live here. Even if I can’t get the restraining order, I’m afraid it’s me or him, Kendall.”
Kendall didn’t say anything.
“When are you going to Tanya’s?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Is Brent going with you?”
“He was, but…I don’t know.”
“You have until the day after Christmas to decide. If you choose him, that’ll give me a week to find a place. I’ll move out New Year’s Day.”
It really hurt that Kendall just nodded. No objections. No saying of course she’d choose her best friend of six years.
No. She needed to think about it.
Maybe Alexandra should move out no matter what Kendall decided.