“Mr. Haas?” she answered on the first ring.
“Melissa, I need another favor. Can you please call your friend, the one who gave you the transcript information on Braelynn Wolf, and have him look for a Gustavo Ortiz? He’s about the same age as Braelynn and should show up on her social media sites. Whatever his fee is, tell him I’ll double it if he can have it to me first thing tomorrow morning,” I said, taking the exit for the Lincoln Tunnel. I needed an escape from my head and driving was my cure.
“Right on it, sir. If you don’t mind me asking, is everything all right?”
The fewer people who knew, the better. “Everything is fine. Just find me Gustavo’s cell phone number or home address.”
I pushed the end call button before I pressed down on the accelerator, letting my car’s horsepower take over. I needed to quiet my screaming thoughts. Taking I-95 North, I focused only on the road ahead.
Moving the ice around, I watered down my scotch as I stared out the window. My drive out of town was unsuccessful, and I found myself back home. Hitting the gym didn’t help either, so I found solace in the amber liquid. Looking out at Manhattan below, I tried to figure out where she could be, where she was hiding. My phone rang on the kitchen counter and I moved to answer it, hoping it was Braelynn. Disappointment set in when I saw the name on the screen.
“Melissa,” I answered.
“I found Gustavo’s cell and home address. I’m sending it over to you right now.” I heard her yawn.
I looked down at my watch—it was past one in the morning. “Are you still in the office?”
“No, I’m home, but this seemed urgent.”
“Thank you.” I made a mental note to give her a raise.
“No problem, boss. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She yawned again.
After the call ended, I opened the email from Melissa. Figuring it was too late to call him, I finished my scotch and headed to bed. Tomorrow morning my first stop would be Gustavo’s apartment.
I sat on the hood of my car, waiting for a decent time to ring his doorbell. If I had stared any harder at my watch, I might have missed him opening the front door. Gustavo walked down his steps toward me, crossing his arms over his chest as he got closer. Like Kennedy, I could tell I wasn’t his favorite person. They both had this need to protect Braelynn from me.
“Can I help you?”
“Do you know where she is?” I asked.
“Do you think I’m going to tell you?”
“I know you’re not my biggest fan—”
“No, I’m not. She’s not the same person because of you, and she’s going against everything she’s ever worked for to be with you, so pardon me if I’m not completely forthcoming.”
“Gus, I know how important you are to her, so I’m going to refrain from being a complete asshole, but what happens between me and Braelynn is none of your fucking business. We are consenting adults. You want to make me the bad guy? Fine. My relationship is with her, not you, so I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of me. But Braelynn quit her internship Tuesday morning via email.”
The change in his face told me that was news to him. “We all know how obsessed she is with this case, so her quitting doesn’t make any sense. Please, I beg you, tell me you know where she is.”
Pulling out his cell phone, he showed me her last text message to him. It was the same one Kennedy said she received. “That’s all I know.”
“Kennedy said she’s done this before. That she closes herself off and crams. Do you know where she might be?”
“Well, in college she did it because we partied too much, so she had no choice but to cram it all in, but she always went to the closest, cheapest hotel or Loren’s couch.” He moved to sit on the hood of my car. “Have you tried texting her?”
“Yeah, she doesn’t reply. Have you?”
He sent her a quick message.
Gustavo Ortiz: Hey. Dinner tonight? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days.
His phone chirped seconds later with her response.
Braelynn Wolf: Can’t. I really need to get some studying done. I’m so behind.
“See. She’s fine man.” He shrugged.
“Thanks,” I replied, not at all convinced that she was fine. My gut told me something was off.
After I left Gus’s, I headed to work. If Braelynn wanted to talk to me, she would find me. But by lunchtime I had my head lowered, pressed to the palms of my hands. Still no news from her and I couldn’t get the image of the stupid necklace lying on the ground, covered in dirt, and surrounded with glass out of my head. She responded to Gus right in front of me, Kennedy had received a message from her, and I had checked in on Drew.
It made no sense.
She’d finally let me in, told me about her past, and I saw the look she gave me when she wrapped her legs around me in the tub. It wasn’t a look you gave someone and then didn’t call the next day.
Pathetic, that’s what I was becoming.
Friday afternoon, I walked into the courtroom. I looked around to see if I could spot her blonde hair, then nodded at Howard. “Good afternoon.” I swung my briefcase onto the table.
We spent the next hour presenting motions and filing memos and agreed-to facts to the judge. Howard attempted to persuade her that Natasha had nothing to gain from lying on the loan application, that Drew’s actions cost her her job and reputation, but without tangible proof, the judge allowed my motion to dismiss. After I’d packed up my briefcase, I walked over to Howard and shook his hand.
“We need to stop meeting under these circumstances,” I joked. He looked at me, then to Natasha, who was wiping her tears away. When he didn’t respond, I added, “Send me her file. I’ll see if I can make a few phone calls.” My father had friends who owed him a few larger favors, and after taking Drew on as a client, he now owed me a favor.
“Thank you. We thought we had this one.” Howard slammed his briefcase shut. “This isn’t typical behavior for Braelynn. She worked her ass off in school, and she wouldn’t just throw it all away.”
“Who?” I asked, playing stupid.
“My intern, Braelynn Wolf. You met her at the deposition for Drew’s colleague. She convinced Mackenzie to come forward with the check and then quit the next day.” He shook his head before placing his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let my sulking get to you. It’s just been a tough week.”
I followed him out of the courtroom and headed home, exhausted and worried.
The roads were clear Sunday afternoon heading up I-95. When I couldn’t focus on anything other than where Braelynn was, I took the drive up to her sister’s house. This was my last shot. I just hoped that she’d be on Loren’s couch as Gus had suggested.
I needed to find her. I couldn’t focus on work, and restful sleep was impossible—I tossed and turned all night thinking about her.
What the fuck, Haas? You’re chasing tail?
But Braelynn wasn’t tail.
She was more important than I cared to admit. It was the first time in my life I’d ever wanted, no needed, to see where a relationship led. Love? Could I love her? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I needed her.
When the GPS showed that I’d arrived at my destination located on the outskirts of Newport, I parked my car and took the steps up to entrance of the small, one-family home. I rang the doorbell twice before the door opened.
“Yes?” Loren stood in the doorway with a surprised look on her face.
“Is Braelynn here?”
“No, she’s not.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Wait … you’re the guy from her graduation.” I nodded. “Why are you here, looking for Braelynn?”
“May I come in?” I asked. Loren looked me up and down; she seemed to hesitate for a split second before opening the door wider for me.
She closed the door behind her and crossed her arms again. “Why are you here?” she repeated as I walked farther into her home.
“Braelynn and I have been seeing each other for the past
few weeks, and this past Tuesday she emailed the law office she was interning at and quit. Kennedy and Gus both said they’d received text messages from her saying she needed to study, but she won’t reply or answer any of my calls. I know barging into your house isn’t helping my case, but I’m worried something’s happened to her.”
She sat on the couch and gestured for me to sit. Her walls were decorated with pictures of Braelynn. One family portrait hung high over the television; Braelynn looked to be only a few months old, held high in her mother’s arms while Loren sat on her father’s lap.
“I spoke to her early last week and she mentioned she was under a lot of pressure and needed to hide out. Braelynn usually calls me, but she’s only texted me since Tuesday morning, which is odd—she knows I don’t like typing on that small screen.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs before she looked back at me. “She wouldn’t quit her job unless something was seriously wrong. I know how hard she worked to get it. When I speak to her, I’ll ask her about it.”
I stood, pulling my business card out of my wallet. “My cell number is on the back.” I handed it to her.
“Do you want something to drink? I’m sorry, I should’ve offered you something sooner. You just caught me by surprise.”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” I walked to the front door.
“You really care about her, huh?”
I stood on the landing, facing the setting sun. “What makes you say that?” I looked back at her.
She smiled and leaned against the doorjamb. “Well, aside from the fact that you drove almost four hours to see if she was here, and you’ve already bothered Kennedy and Gus.” She chuckled and reached for my shoulder. “My baby sister is stubborn, Peyton. When she gets something in her head, she won’t stop until she’s finished it. If she says she’s cramming for the bar, she probably is.”
I nodded once. “It was nice seeing you again, Loren,” I said before walking down the steps.
Once I arrived back in Manhattan, I turned up her street, my subconscious guiding where I went. I needed to see with my own eyes that she wasn’t home. From down the street I could see that all the lights were out; it seemed not even Kennedy was home. The only light came from the streetlight in front of her brownstone. Releasing my foot from the accelerator, I let my speed decrease. I eyed her darkened house as I rolled past … and froze. She was there, lying on the front landing, shivering.
I slammed on the brakes and my tires screeched on the asphalt. I jammed the car into park and rushed to her. She lay in the fetal position, her limbs shaking. Wrapping her in my arms, I held her. Her eyes were shut; her hair was damp and her body was freezing. Sheer panic rushed through me. I tapped on her cheeks. “Braelynn, wake up. Open your eyes for me. Please.”
“No … please … no … rape … Peyton … no …” She whimpered, her body convulsed in my arms.
Her head rested on my thighs and I held her cheek as I pushed her hair away from her face. “Braelynn, look at me. You’re okay, I got you.”
She turned her head and began vomiting on my lap. The stench of alcohol was so strong I had to hold my breath. Braelynn retched the contents of her stomach before her body went limp in my arms. Taking my cell phone out of my pocket, I called Gus. With the phone between my ear and shoulder, I cradled her like a child as I carried her to my car.
“Hello?” he answered. His voice was sluggish, as if he had been sleeping.
“Gus, I have her, but something is wrong. I’m taking her to the emergency room. Let Kennedy know I’m on my way.” I was out of breath as I fastened her into the passenger seat.
“Fuck. I’ll meet you there.”
I tossed my cell toward the center console, and moving her hair from face, I wiped the sides of her lips. She reeked of vomit and booze, and her makeup was smeared over her eyes. My legs couldn’t get me to the driver’s side fast enough. I climbed in and fastened my seat belt, then held her hand as I turned the engine on and drove away.
“I’m right here, Braelynn. I’m getting you help, okay?” Bringing her hand to my lips, I kissed it gently. “I love you, Braelynn. Stay with me.”
I held her hand as I drove toward Memorial Hospital.
Haas
I slammed on the brakes, threw the car in park, then pushed my door open and rushed out, heading to the passenger side.
Gus and Kennedy sprinted toward my car. “What happened?” Kennedy asked as Gus helped me take Braelynn out of the car. Kennedy waved an orderly forward with a stretcher.
I cradled her in my arms as I carried her toward the stretcher and laid her limp body on the hard surface. “I was driving down your street when I found her like this on your steps.”
I held onto her hands as Kennedy checked her vitals and the attendant and Gus guided the stretcher into the ER and toward a treatment room. Gus was silent as tears dripped from his eyes, his face disbelieving.
“Has she been responsive at all?” Kennedy asked, flashing a light in Braelynn’s eyes. Her hands shook as she tried to stay focused.
“She mumbled some things before she threw up.”
“What do we have?” a doctor in green scrubs and a white coat shouted, hustling toward us with a medical team in tow.
“Twenty-six-year-old female, found non-responsive, pupils dilated, BP low,” Kennedy said, informing the other doctors.
“Let’s move her on my count!” the doctor shouted. They all surrounded the bed, pushing Gus and me away. “One. Two. Three.” They tugged on the sheet, transferring her from the stretcher to a hospital bed.
“Braelynn, can you hear me?” Kennedy asked, cutting off Braelynn’s shirt to attach a heart rate monitor. Her voice was soft when she spoke, as if she was trying to hold in her emotions.
“She’s seizing!” someone shouted.
From the side, Gus and I watched as her frail body began to convulse. The curves I’d become familiar with were now gone from her body, and all that was left was skin and bones. It looked as if she hadn’t eaten in the week she’d been missing; her cheekbones and collarbone jutted out visibly. The team of doctors rolled Braelynn to her side, and Kennedy held her head in place until it passed.
“Come on, Brae,” Kennedy said, brushing her hand over Braelynn’s dirty blonde hair. Gus paced behind me, his hands clasped behind his head in anxiety.
“Kennedy, you need to back away from the patient.”
Kennedy’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head, unable to step away.
“Dr. Murphy, you’re emotionally attached to the patient. You need to step away and let us do our job.”
Kennedy ignored him. Braelynn had finally stopped seizing, so they started attaching monitors and IVs to her body again.
“Dr. Kennedy Murphy, as your attending, I am ordering you to step away from the patient.”
Her hands slowly came off of Braelynn’s head.
The doctors all shouted to one another, and I stood frozen in place as I watched what seemed like a scene from the television show, ER. A couple of nurses escorted the three of us from the room. We watched through the closed glass door as the doctors went to work.
“I’ll give you an update as soon as I know something!” a nurse yelled as she rushed back toward the room.
“She’s allergic to penicillin!” Kennedy shouted before she turned and headed for the waiting area. Gus followed behind her, but I couldn’t move. Through the privacy glass I could see the doctors moving around her, and I could hear her heartbeat on the monitor. She was still alive, still breathing.
“Come on, man.” Gus tapped my shoulder, urging me to follow him. When I didn’t move, he held on to my shoulder. “Let them do their job. They’ll tell us when they know something.”
Kennedy sat on a gray leather chair, her elbows on her knees as she held her head up with her hands. She whimpered softly as she cried.
Gus sat next to her, rubbing her back. “She’s going to be okay,” he murmured. I wanted to believe him,
I did, but I couldn’t. The pain in the pit of my stomach told me otherwise. I knew what she looked like when I found her, and the indescribable fear I felt when I held her in my arms. I didn’t know if she was ever going to be okay.
“We need to call the police.” Kennedy finally spoke, wiping the tears away from her eyes.
“We don’t know what happened,” Gus replied.
I stopped pacing in front of them; their words fueled my sudden rage. “What do you mean we don’t know what happened?” I spoke between my teeth. “I told you, both of you. I came to you and said that something was wrong, that something didn’t feel right.”
“Haas.” Gus stood.
“No, fuck that. I found her. Neither of you gave a shit where she was!”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Kennedy stood, her nose and cheeks red from crying. “She’s my fucking friend, my fucking roommate, and we fought because of you. That’s why I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I know exactly who you are, you asshole! You’re known for fucking women and leaving them. You don’t think I know your history? Braelynn might not know you’re a self-centered womanizer, but I do. And I fought with her because of you! So don’t fucking throw it in my face now because I was trying to protect her!”
The people around us in the waiting room sat quietly. Gus asked Kennedy to lower her voice, but it didn’t matter; she was livid and she was right. I was that kind of man before I met Braelynn. She had changed me.
“You want to come in now,” she continued, “and save the fucking day. Great. Do that. I’ll be forever thankful that you found her, but don’t try to blame us. We had no fucking clue she was even missing.” Gus positioned his hands on her shoulders, turning her to him and pulling her close. She hugged him as she sobbed into his chest.
I couldn’t be mad at her, but I needed to direct my anger somewhere. I walked out of the waiting room and called Melissa, asking her to bring me fresh clothes to change into. When I returned, Gus informed me that Kennedy had tried to call Loren but was unable to reach her. Having no choice, she’d left a message. We waited for hours, taking shifts as we paced the small waiting room. The horrific vending machine coffee was our only savior.
Consensual Page 25
