26

Brenda wasn’t happy. She’d spent a restless night, and all of her very long workday, wondering what she’d done to make Deke run like his backside was on fire. She wasn’t that bad at kissing. At least, she hadn’t thought so. It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of experience. She’d had exactly two boyfriends—one had turned out to be gay and the other one beat her. Not exactly a stellar track record in the experience department. Although neither one of her exes had ever complained about her kissing technique. Clive had complained about almost everything else, but not her kissing. So what had made Deke run? Maybe she’d been right the first time. Maybe he just didn’t fancy her. She stopped dead as she felt the blood drain from her face. That meant his kiss was a pity kiss.

A pity kiss!

“Are you almost finished?” Jodie put her head around Brenda’s door in time to stop her from having a complete meltdown.

“Just cleaning up. I’ll be done in another fifteen minutes or so.”

“Okay, I’m going to walk Patricia back to the manse,” Jodie said. Patricia, their skin specialist, had a weak leg courtesy of her ex-husband, and after a long day it became worse. She would never mention it, but the women took turns making sure she had support crossing the short distance to the manse. “Lake’s guy is on the door, so yell out to him if you need anything. I won’t be long, and I’ll lock up after you’re done.”

It was past nine at night and everyone was eager to get home. The special promotional event had been a huge hit, which meant lots of work for all the women. Brenda wished she was going back to her little room in the manse instead of Deke’s house, which was filled with Deke’s problems.

“Okeydokey.” Brenda was perfectly comfortable dealing with any of Lake’s security guys—especially after Grunt and Lake had explained to the women that if the men scared them in any way, Grunt would break their legs. It took a while for the women to realise they weren’t joking.

Jodie hesitated and her face softened. “You holding up okay?”

Mm, what could Brenda say? That she was more worried about dying from sexual frustration because Jodie’s brother was an idiot than she was about her ex getting her? No, that definitely came under the category of TMI.

“I’m okay. I hate waiting. I wish something would happen. Not something bad, just something to give us an idea where Clive is and what he’s doing. Or even better, I wish Matt and Lake would catch him and this would all be over.”

One look at Jodie’s face told Brenda she didn’t think this would ever be over.

“I’m deluding myself,” Brenda said. “I know that. Unless they catch him doing something seriously illegal, he’ll be free to carry on harassing us.” For a minute her focus was on folding the towel in her hands. “I should leave, Jodie. Before someone gets hurt because of me.”

“No.” Jodie stepped into the room and placed both hands on Brenda’s shoulders. “You heard Deke: this is your last stand. At least here you have people to protect you. If you leave, you’ll be alone. It will be worse. You know that. You know how bad it can be when you have no one to help you and nowhere to go.”

Brenda couldn’t look her in the eye anymore. She nodded as she stepped away to put the towel on the shelf.

“You know it wasn’t you,” Jodie said. “It was never you. This is all on him.”

“I know.” And she did. It still didn’t make any difference. Brenda still felt guilty that her poor choices put good people at risk. She should have seen how messed up Clive was before she got in too deep. She should have recognised the signs and put a stop to things.

“Stop it,” Jodie snapped. “The guilt and shame are all his. All of it. You didn’t ask to be hounded by an unbalanced guy. You didn’t ask to be beaten. You didn’t ask him to harass your friends. These aren’t things you encouraged or welcomed. These guys are all the same—they start out as charmers, and once you’re isolated enough not to have any support, their control slips. You can’t fix them. They can only fix themselves. And the truth of the matter is that most of them don’t want to be fixed. They just want to hurt. To control. To demean. To abuse. But none of that is on you. That’s all on them. It’s all on your ex.”

Brenda blinked away embarrassing tears at Jodie’s impassioned words. “Does it get better?”

“I’ve spent my whole adult life thinking I’m somehow to blame for how my father treated my mother. If I’d been quieter, if I’d told the teachers at school, if I’d been tidier. It’s all bullshit. It didn’t matter what any of us did; he would still have found an excuse to behave exactly the way he wanted to behave.” Jodie stepped towards Brenda. “The guilt never goes away, but you learn to recognise it for what it is—lies. Lies enforced on us by men who hurt us.”

“I’m not like you, though. I’m not strong. I have no self-defence skills. You’re Combat Barbie. You’re confident. Capable. Sorted. Together. If Clive came in here now, I’d cower and cry.”

Jodie’s eyes flashed with fury. “That’s it. I’m setting up compulsory self-defence classes for all staff.”

“What’s that saying about trying to shut a horse in after it’s already run away? This is just like that. It’s a bit late to be learning self-defence now.”

“It’s never too late.” The way Jodie’s chin jutted out with determination made Brenda wonder if she’d somehow managed to survive being beaten only to die during one of Jodie’s classes.

Patricia called Jodie’s name, and their boss turned towards the door. “Don’t knock yourself,” Jodie said with her hand on the door. “You’re courageous. You survived and you aren’t afraid of life or men.”

Once Jodie had shut the door behind her, Brenda let out a snort of derision. Nope, she wasn’t afraid of men—well, apart from her ex—but men sure as sugar were afraid of her. Exhibit A: cowardly Deke Miller.

Brenda set about sorting her shelves, making sure her supplies were ready to go first thing Monday morning. She wished the task would take longer, because she didn’t want to go back to Deke’s place and spend another night watching him invent ways to avoid touching her. It had become humiliating.

She heard a thud coming from the direction of the reception area. Jodie was back. Brenda reached for her tote, but stilled as her hand touched it. Every hair on her body stood up. Slowly, silently, she turned towards the door, as though she had somehow developed x-ray vision and would suddenly be able to see through it. She told herself that all this talk of Clive was making her paranoid. But her breathing sped up and her palms became clammy. It was then she realised what was bothering her—the building was silent.

There were no voices. No footsteps. No doors closing. Nothing. Nothing when there should have been something. For a second Brenda was frozen, then instinct kicked in. Hide. She had to hide. Her gaze flew around the room. There was only one place. The large Alibaba basket for the used towels.

She swayed at the thought of being tucked in that small dark space. It was just like... No! No. This was different. Her hands shook. Her mind raced, options flying through her brain at lightning speed. There was nowhere else to hide and she couldn’t fight.

Her mouth went dry as she stared at the basket. It was just a basket. It had holes. She would be able to see light through them. There was no lock on the outside for someone to keep her trapped. She could do this. She could. She wasn’t the person she’d been. No one was forcing her to get into the basket. No one was making her sit in the dark. This was her choice. She could do it. She had to do it. Because there was someone out there. Someone moving silently through the building. Someone who shouldn’t be there. She knew it. She felt it in the vibrations in the air. In the silence that was suddenly oppressive. There was no other choice. She had to get into the basket.

Now.

The basket would make noise when she climbed into it. She needed cover. There was no time to think. No time to second-guess her reactions or fears. She grabbed her phone from her bag, swiped the screen, set the alarm and placed the phone on the table. She rushed on tiptoes to the basket. Less than one minute. That’s what she had to get ready. Her heart raced as she removed the lid of the basket. She placed her tote in the bottom. She couldn’t hear anything above the rushing of blood in her ears.

And then her alarm went off.

Wham!’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” blared.

Brenda launched herself into the basket and pulled the lid on top of her head. It was tight, but for once her tiny frame was an advantage. She crouched, her arms wrapped around her knees, frozen in place. Any movement and the basket would creak, giving her away. She was struggling to breathe as panic fought to overcome her. It was such a small space. There was no light. The air was musty and thick. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t make a noise. He would hear her.

He was out there. She knew it.

It was happening all over again.

He was going to shout through the door. He was going to thump the wood. He was going to tell her what she’d done wrong this time. Then he’d disappear. Leaving her in the darkness without water or food. Leaving her locked away, hidden, terrified. Waiting. Then the door would suddenly open and the pain would start. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to scream. To run. To fight. He was coming. She knew it. The door was going to open and he’d grab her hair...

No.

There was no door.

No. Door.

Brenda scrunched up her eyes. Breathe. Just breathe. She wasn’t back there in the closet. She was here in the spa and she’d chosen to hide. Her decision. Nobody forced her into the basket.

Basket. Not closet. Basket.

She felt lightheaded. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the small space, which didn’t make sense, because there were holes in the weave. She had to get out of there. She had to. There was no one out there. She’d panicked. She’d made a mistake. Listened to her imagination instead of logic.

And then the door opened.

Brenda stopped breathing entirely.

“It’s a fucking phone. One of the bitches must have forgotten it.” The voice was deep. Rough. English accent.

Brenda didn’t recognise it.

“Take the phone. There might be something on there we can use.” Another voice. English accent.

She didn’t recognise that one either.

“She isn’t here. We shouldn’t have trashed her flat. Now we don’t know where she’s sleeping.”

There was a moment’s silence as Brenda’s ears strained to hear something. Anything.

“Are you fucking criticising me?” It was the second man, and his voice dripped with menace.

There was a screech of tyres on gravel.

“Time to go,” the first guy said.

A car door slammed.

“Out the back,” the second guy ordered.

There was absolute silence. Had they gone? Was she safe? They could move around without making any noise. Were they there? In the room? Were they waiting?

Brenda’s fingers began to tingle. Pins and needles. She let out the breath that had been burning her lungs. Slow. Quiet. Invisible. She had to be invisible. Dizzy. She felt dizzy. She forced herself to breathe as multi-coloured lights seemed to dance in front of her in the darkness of the basket. She couldn’t faint. The noise would give her away. She had to breathe. Just keep on breathing.

A door slammed.

Brenda jerked. Froze. Panic. Had they heard? Was she found? No. No. No. No...

“Brenda!” A panicked shout. Deke.

A wave of relief washed over her, but she still couldn’t move. Her head slumped onto her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks in silence as her limbs began to shake.

“Brenda!” The door to her room slammed open.

Brenda wanted to call out. Wanted to get out of the basket, but her limbs were noodles and she couldn’t speak. Not yet. A sob erupted.

Loud footsteps, then light as the lid was lifted. “Aw, Bren.”

Strong hands reached for her. They grasped her under her arms and lifted her straight out of the basket. Brenda curled into Deke as he wrapped around her, holding her tight to his chest, cradling her like a child.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” he crooned against her hair.

More footsteps, then someone skidded to a halt inside the door. Brenda pressed her face into Deke’s firm shoulder.

“Is she okay?” Jodie. Tense. Fearful.

“I found her hiding in the basket.” Deke’s voice was a tight wire, ready to snap.

Brenda wanted to tell them she was okay, but the words wouldn’t come out and she couldn’t stop shaking.

“Adrenalin crash,” Deke said to his sister.

“I’ll get a blanket.”

Brenda wanted to crawl inside Deke until she was back to normal. He was right. He was strong and big and capable and nothing could get through him. So where the hell had he been when she needed him?

She lifted her head to look at him and was vaguely aware that he was striding down the corridor to reception.

“You said you’d stand in front of me.”

He winced. “I screwed up. From now on, I’m sticking to you like glue.”

Brenda blinked up at him. “Does that mean you’re going to stop running from me like a timid teenager?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

Brenda didn’t care. She wasn’t intimidated. She felt wired and she wanted to talk. No, she wanted to rub herself all over Deke like a cat with catnip.

“Night-time too? Are we going to sleep in the same bed?”

“I don’t think I need to sleep beside you to protect you.”

“What happened to that glue?”

He sat on the reception sofa with her in his lap. She felt protected. She felt safe. She felt...horny? She wriggled in his lap. Oh yeah, she definitely felt horny. Brenda flattened her hand against his chest. So many muscles. So little time. She traced them with her fingertips.

Deke covered her hand with his. “Stop. It’s just the adrenalin working its way out of your system.”

“I’ve had adrenalin before. I’ve never felt like this.” She’d also never felt muscles like this. How did he cook and eat all the time yet stay this buff? Surely the workouts she’d seen him do weren’t enough.

A blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Deke pulled it tight, tucking it in around them, making them a little cocoon, only with their heads sticking out. Brenda became aware that they weren’t alone. Jodie was standing in front of her and Mitch was leaning against the wall by the door. Lake and Grunt stood side by side, arms folded, faces stone.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Jodie clearly thought Brenda would shatter if she didn’t talk to her as though she was a cowering puppy.

That was not going to happen. The last thing she needed was for the man she was sitting on to think she was even more fragile than he already thought her to be. Brenda sat up straight, her palm still flat against Deke. Skin, she thought. I need skin.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” she said—okay, well, maybe she shouted. Her hand slipped under Deke’s shirt as she spoke. His hand clasped her wrist to stop her. She snapped her head around to face him, her eyes wide. “Seriously? You’re going to stop me from touching you? Really? When everyone knows that the best treatment for shock is skin-on-skin contact?”

There was a muffled chuckle behind her.

“That’s the treatment for hypothermia,” Deke said.

“Then why do they recommend that premature, traumatised babies spend time against the skin of their mothers? Explain that.”

“Bren,” Deke started, but then he just sighed. His hand moved away. “Have at it, then.”

Brenda gave him a wide smile. “You know what would really help? If you took off your shirt.”

There was more muffled laughter.

“You are a total nut,” Deke told her, but didn’t object when she shoved his shirt up and leaned into him, her hand splayed over all those yummy muscles. His hand tightened on her hip.

“I could be your nut if you’d get your act together and stop running away,” she said.

The laughter wasn’t muffled this time. Deke scowled at their audience and it stopped.

Brenda turned back to everyone. “I can’t believe I hid in a basket. I’ve been claustrophobic since Clive used to lock me in the closet. I was good at escaping, though. I’m fantastic at picking a lock. That’s why the women of Knit or Die recruited me. But that’s beside the point.” She felt Deke shift her closer into him. “The point is that I went into the basket on my own. My choice. I did it and I didn’t freak out.” She beamed at everyone. “Not until Deke pulled me out, but then it was only a little freak-out. I mean, what woman isn’t allowed some tears after she’s spent time in a laundry basket?”

“Bren.” Deke’s hand tightened on her hip as his other hand brushed her wild curls back from her face. “You’re hyper because of the adrenalin. We understand that. But you need to focus. You need to answer Lake’s questions.”

He was so considerate, so caring. He was perfect. Her heart melted just looking at him. Which reminded her that other parts of her weren’t melting but heating up.

“I’m sure I could concentrate better if you were naked.” She batted her lashes at him.

“Not going to happen.”

“You just mean here, right? But later, you’ll totally help me get over my trauma by getting naked. Right?”

Deke groaned and looked at Lake for help. Lake was doing that lip twitch thing he did when he thought he was too cool to smile.

“Brenda, did you get a look at the person who broke in? Was it your ex?” Lake said.

“No.” Brenda looked at Lake as she stroked Deke’s chest. She definitely felt better, more relaxed having her hands on him. “It wasn’t Clive.”

“Are you sure? Because we haven’t been able to track him down yet.”

Lake’s words made her shudder, and Deke rubbed her arm to reassure her.

“I can’t believe I sat in a basket,” Brenda said loudly.

“It was the smart thing to do,” Deke said. “Brave. Now, are you sure it wasn’t that arsehole you used to live with?”

“Definitely.” She shook her head. “There were two of them. They took my phone because I set the alarm to cover the noise of me climbing into the basket.” She looked at Deke. “I’ll never be able to listen to Wham! again after that. And thus endeth my eighties music phase.” She turned back to Lake. “But it’s okay. There was nothing on the phone they can use. I don’t save any numbers to contacts and I delete every text and voice mail when I get it. There’s nothing on there but some bad pop music and a couple of X-rated e-books.” She looked back at Deke. “Do you realise how hard it is to read on a phone?”

Deke cast a helpless look at Lake. “She’s going to be like this until it works its way out of her system.”

“We know,” Lake said.

“Know what?” Brenda said. “What’s the problem? Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” Jodie said. “It’s fine, sweetie. We just need to know about the men.”

“Right, the men.” Brenda scrunched up her nose. “There were two of them. English accents. I didn’t recognise either of them. They said that they shouldn’t have trashed your flat because now they didn’t know where you were staying.” The words sank in as they came out of her mouth. Brenda felt herself pale as she looked at Jodie. “They were looking for you.”

Everyone in the room turned to Jodie. Mitch strode to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. He tugged her tight against him. Brenda turned back to Deke.

“I know it’s selfish to think this right now, what with the fact bad guys are after Jodie. But does this mean that you won’t be sleeping naked beside me tonight?”

He stared at her for a moment. She couldn’t read his expression, but she thought it was a mixture of bewilderment and exasperation.

“You are a complete and utter lunatic,” he said with a shake of his head. Which still wasn’t an answer to her question. She opened her mouth to talk, but he kept on going. “I am so proud of you. You did the right thing hiding in that basket. It kept you safe.”

“I hid. I didn’t call for help. I didn’t fight. I hid.” It was nothing to be proud of.

He clasped the back of her neck. “You got out in one piece. You got information for us. You did the right thing.” He lowered his voice. “I would have gone nuts if you were hurt.”

“But—”

He cut her off with his lips. They were firm against her. Firm and delicious. Brenda felt her nails curl into his abs as he deepened the kiss, licking past her lips to get her mouth to open to him. Brenda melted into him. She’d give him anything he wanted, anytime he wanted it.

When he slowly moved his head away, she looked up at him, feeling kind of dazed. “Please tell me that was a yes to full-body contact later on? Because I’m dying of frustration here.”

“Nut,” Deke said as he pulled her into his chest.

Brenda knew everyone was watching, but she didn’t care: she rested her cheek against him and closed her eyes, suddenly very tired. In the warmth of Deke’s strong hold, she felt exhaustion steal her away.