Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

  Before Harper could speak, their waitress appeared holding a bottle of wine. “Sorry to interrupt. Giuseppe’s tied up in the kitchen, but he wanted you to have a bottle on the house. He was worried something had happened. We haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  “Oh, sorry about that,” Brodie said, forcing a smile. “Just swamped at work.”

  “It happens to us all,” Angie said, gesturing with her head to the filled tables in the room. “But you’re our favorite customer, so don’t be a stranger. Okay?”

  “I’ll try not to be. I promise.”

  “Good,” Angie said, touching Brodie on the arm. “Well, enjoy the wine.”

  Harper watched as Angie headed to another table and then returned her focus to Brodie. “What’s all that about?”

  “It’s nothing,” Brodie said, grabbing the bottle of Chianti. “Refill?”

  “Sure,” Harper said, holding out her glass. “I’m not driving.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “Yeah, I was kind of surprised you picked me up in a taxi.”

  “Didn’t feel like driving.”

  Harper’s eyebrow arched. Brodie had already had two glasses of wine, and the one she just poured herself went almost to the rim. “By the looks of it, you feel like getting drunk though.”

  “I just want to unwind.”

  Brodie’s voice had remained flat, almost monotone since the moment she’d arrived at Harper’s hotel. The only time she’d seen the woman smile was at the waitress a minute earlier, and Brodie had lost weight she didn’t need to lose. She was still beautiful, but her eyes lacked the vitality Harper knew so well.

  Harper reached across the table and took Brodie’s hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. It still hurts a bit too much for that,” Brodie said, pulling her hand away. “Besides, I’ve already beaten myself up enough for falling for a straight woman. I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”

  “I would never do that, and you know it,” Harper said, lovingly gazing at Brodie. “Look, I only met Kate that one night and a lot of it was lost to the tequila, but I honestly thought she was the real deal…not that it helps.”

  “That makes two of us, and you’re right. It doesn’t.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “About what?” Brodie said before picking up her wine and polishing off half the glass.

  “About this,” Harper said, waving her hand in front of Brodie. “You can’t keep moping around, you know? One of these days you’re going to have to get back in the saddle.”

  “I’m not really in the mood for a ride.”

  “Then, get ridden.”

  Brodie’s face clouded with anger. “Harper!”

  “What?” Harper said, holding up her hands. “All I’m saying is there are lots of women out there willing to give you want you need, so stop brooding about the one you can’t have…and find one you can.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Brodie said, placing her glass back on the table.

  “Sure, it is. Before Kate, it wasn’t about love. It was about sex,” Harper said, leaning forward in her seat. “Go back to the basics, Brodie. Stop thinking about love and settle for lust. It hardly ever hurts, that is…unless you want it to.”

  ***

  Kate held up her warrant card as she made her way through the police officers standing on the sidewalk, her teeth showing through her smile when she saw Elliott Thackery walking toward her.

  “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  “Hiya, Elliott.”

  “Hi yourself,” he said, tucking a notepad under his arm. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was just leaving the station when the call came in. It sounded like all hands on deck, so I thought I’d come over and see if I could help. I would have been here earlier, but there was a fender bender that caused a ridiculous amount of gridlock.”

  “Blame it on that,” Elliott said, looking up at the evening sky. “Bloody full moon always creates havoc.”

  “By the number of squad cars around here, I’d have to say you’re right. It must have been one hell of a brawl.”

  “You could say that,” Elliott said, signaling for Kate to follow. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Kate shadowed Elliott down the walk, and when she stepped into what used to be a club, her jaw hit the floor. “Oh my God.”

  Elliott grinned. “Quite a mess, isn’t it?”

  Mess didn’t even begin to describe it. Amidst the puddles of spilled beer and liquor, the floor glistened with what remained of mugs, glasses, and bottles, and at least a dozen stools and tables were either broken or lying on their sides. The mirror behind the bar was shattered, and the bottles of alcohol once perched on shelves had been smashed, making the club smell like a distillery. Customers who had become witnesses stood in groups around the room, waiting their turn to be questioned while medics roamed the club, assisting those with cuts, scratches, or worse.

  “What in the hell happened?” Kate said, looking over at Elliott.

  “Bar fight.”

  Kate laughed. “Ya think?”

  Elliott smiled. “And I know this is going to sound totally sexist, but I still can’t believe women did this.”

  “What?” Kate blurted. “Women?”

  “Yeah. This is or was a lesbian hangout. It’s always been one of the rougher ones, and now I can see why.”

  Kate looked around at the wreckage, and even though it was a sexist comment of sorts, Kate had to agree with Elliott’s assessment. She’d seen the aftermath of brawls in sports bars that didn’t compare to what was in front of her. As her eyes darted here and there, a group of people off to her right moved in tandem toward the door, and with her view no longer obstructed, Kate saw yet another victim of the fight…and her gasp went unchecked.

  “What’s wrong?” Elliott said, looking up from his notepad.

  “Um…nothing,” Kate said, glancing toward the door. “But since you seem to have everything under control, I think I’m going to head out.”

  “That’s fine. We’re almost wrapped up here anyway,” Elliott said, returning to his notes. “Have a good night.”

  “You, too.”

  Kate made her way to the door and spotting a medic standing near the entrance, she touched him on the arm. “Excuse me, but that woman over there, the one sitting on the stairs…it looks like she’s bleeding.”

  The portly man looked over his shoulder. “That she is.”

  “Aren’t you going to help her?”

  The man glowered at Kate. “Love, I’ve asked her three times if I could help her, and three times she’s told me to bugger off. I can’t help them if they don’t want to be helped. It’s the law, and I have to follow it.” Without waiting for a response, the medic walked away.

  Kate took a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she walked to the door, but when she reached the threshold, she stopped. “Shit.”

  ***

  Brodie’s butt was sore. The treads on the spiral stairs were open grate, and she’d been sitting on them for almost an hour while the police questioned and the medics annoyed. All she wanted to do was to go home, except she was in no shape to drive. Between her pounding headache and her blurry vision, Brodie wasn’t about to risk herself or others by getting behind the wheel of her car, but calling for a taxi was proving difficult. With a huff, she pulled out her mobile and tried to focus on the screen like she had done earlier. She squinted at the display for a few seconds before pocketing the phone, telling herself she’d try again in a couple of minutes.

  “You really should let someone take a look at your head.”

  As if the jackhammer pounding its way through her skull wasn’t enough, when Brodie heard the voice she never—ever—wanted to hear again, her temples began to throb. Refusing to look up, she growled, “Bugger off.”

  “I’ve heard you’ve been saying the same thing to the medics.”

  “And now I’m saying it to you. Bugger the
fuck off.”

  “You’re hurt.”

  “And you’re a fickle tart,” Brodie said, raising her eyes.

  This time Kate managed to suppress her gasp. From across the room, she had seen what she knew was dried blood on Brodie’s face. What Kate didn’t know was that some of it wasn’t dry. There was a slow, meandering trickle making its way down Brodie’s forehead, some of the blood following the shape of her eyebrow and sliding down her right cheek while the rest trailed down the center of her nose and dripped off the tip.

  “Jesus, you need a medic,” Kate said, looking around.

  “I don’t need anything from you.” Brodie jumped to her feet. The sudden motion flipped Brodie’s stomach, and sitting down hard on the step, she winced as she swallowed the bit of bile that had risen into her mouth.

  “Brodie, you need help.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Brodie said, cocking her head just enough to see Kate before looking at the floor again. “I don’t need anything from you. Not one goddamned thing. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

  Brodie heard the crunch of broken glass as Kate walked away and closing her eyes, she took a few slow breaths, hoping they would calm her anger and her nausea. A few people were milling about, so she wasn’t surprised to hear more glass being ground under shoes until one particular pair seemed to stop in front of her.

  “Here. Take this.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Brodie said, pushing herself to her feet. “You really are a stupid cow.”

  Brodie stormed past Kate, and a second later, she was on a carousel, a very fast carousel that sent the room spinning around her. She felt her knees begin to buckle, and then an arm wrapped around her waist.

  “I’ve got you,” Kate said, guiding Brodie to one of the few chairs left unbroken. “Now, sit down before you fall down.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Brodie, either you sit the fuck down, or I’m going to let go of you, and you’re going to end up on the floor. So, the way I see it, you either you do what I’m asking, or you’re going to spend the next few days picking glass out of your arse. Your choice.”

  Brodie had to blink a few times to clear her vision enough to see the glittering clear, green, and brown shards littering the floor. “Fine,” she said, slowly lowering herself to the chair. “Satisfied?”

  “I will be once you let me call a medic over.”

  “Go to hell,” Brodie said, and bowing her head, she closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them again, Kate would be gone. A few seconds later, she caught a whiff of Kate’s perfume, and then she felt fingers in her hair. Brodie pulled away and ended up scrambling to hold onto the chair when the blinding pain in her skull brought with it another wave of nausea “Whataya doing?” Brodie mumbled, praying her stomach contents wouldn’t soon cover the floor.

  Kate’s eyebrows drew together, and squatting down, she looked Brodie in the eye. “Are you pissed?”

  “I haven’t had a drink in over an hour, and what’s it to you if I am?”

  “Are you dizzy?”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  Kate rested back on her haunches. “Could you please give me a straight answer?”

  “Straight?” Brodie said with a snort. “You know, that’s almost funny.”

  “Brodie, listen. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Fuck you, Kate.”

  “Brodie, please,” Kate said, resting her hand on Brodie’s knee. “This isn’t exactly easy for me, either.”

  “You should try getting hit with a beer bottle.”

  “Is that what happened? Were you involved in all of this?”

  “Of course not,” Brodie snapped. “I was coming out of the loo. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor covered in beer.”

  “And blood,” Kate said, her eyes drawn to the stream, still snaking its way down Brodie’s brow. “Look, will you please just let me get someone to check you over? I’m not a doctor, but you don’t look well.”

  “I’ve got a fucking headache, Kate. Okay? My vision is blurry because I got blood in my eyes, and my head hurts like a mother, and you are not helping the situation. So, the sooner you leave, the—”

  “Let me just clean you up a bit, and then I’ll go. All right?” Kate said, holding out a wet towel.

  “Where’d that come from?”

  “I got it from behind the bar.”

  “Oh,” Brodie said, holding out her hand. “Give it to me. I’ll do it.”

  Kate straightened and handed Brodie the cloth. She watched in silence as the woman dabbed it against the top of her head a couple of times before setting the towel aside. Kate mentally counted to ten. “Brodie, you seriously need to do better than that.”

  “I can’t. It hurts.”

  “I would think so.”

  Brodie slumped further in the chair as her eyes met Kate’s. “No, I mean…I think there’s glass in it.”

  ***

  Kate pulled into the driveway and turning off the ignition, she glanced at her passenger. She had spent the last three hours at the hospital while doctors and nurses tended to Brodie. From the other side of the curtain, Kate had listened while Brodie remained polite and obedient. She had answered their questions and never once protested as they stitched the gash in her scalp, but when the drape was finally pulled aside, and she caught sight of Kate, Brodie’s mood swung in the opposite direction. She strode past Kate without saying a word. Her head was high and her attitude defiant until Brodie stepped outside the hospital and the world begin to spin. Kate saw her sway and offered assistance, and a fifteen-minute argument ensued before Kate finally caved to Brodie’s demands...sort of.

  Brodie scowled as she looked at the window. “Why are we here? I asked you to take me home.”

  “I have taken you home, just not to your home.”

  “Goddammit, Kate—”

  “Brodie, the doctor said that someone needed to keep an eye on you, and since Gina’s still working, Devon’s no doubt asleep, and I don’t know any of your other friends, you’re staying here tonight.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m an adult.”

  “Then start fucking acting like one,” Kate shouted. “It’s after midnight, and I’m tired. Okay?”

  “I don’t want to argue about this.”

  “Good,” Kate said and stepping out of the car, she looked back inside. “Because neither do I.”

  The car rocked when Kate slammed the door, and by the time she reached the passenger side, Brodie was climbing out. “That’s more like it,” Kate said, offering Brodie her hand. “You need some—”

  “I don’t need anything from you,” Brodie said, waving off Kate’s assistance.

  Kate followed two steps behind, thankful the moon was full. Brodie’s swaggering gait had been replaced by a shuffle reminiscent of someone wearing concrete boots. When she reached the stairs, she stopped for a long moment, and Kate held her breath, watching as Brodie finally white-knuckled the handrail and climbed the steps. It seemed like she had shrunk in size by the time she reached the top, her entire body slouching under the weight of exhaustion, but Kate didn’t say a word. She just opened the door and ushered Brodie inside.

  Kate flicked on a few lights and motioned toward the lounge. “Why don’t you go relax, and I’ll make up the spare room?”

  “I can’t sit in there.”

  “Goddammit, Brodie,” Kate barked. “Must we argue about everything? Can’t you just give me a break and—”

  “I’m not arguing,” Brodie said, looking down at her clothes. “But I smell like I’ve taken a bath in beer, and I’m covered in blood. Do you really want me sitting on your furniture like this?”

  “Shit…good point,” Kate said, eyeing the stains on Brodie’s trousers. “How about the kitchen?”

  Brodie didn’t say a word as she followed Kate into the next room, and when she reached the kitchen table, she dropped into a chair and cradled her head in her hands. “Do you have something for a he
adache? The doctor rattled off what painkillers he recommended, but I wasn’t paying that much attention, so anything will do.”

  “No, anything won’t do, and luckily, I was paying attention,” Kate said, setting the kettle on the stove. “I’ll be right back.”

  Kate jogged up the stairs, returning a few minutes later with the prescribed over-the-counter painkiller. “This is what he said to take,” she said, placing the bottle on the table. “Let me get you some water.”

  Brodie tapped out three tablets and waited for Kate to return. “Thanks,” she said, taking the glass.

  “If you’re okay in here, I’m going to go set up the spare room. All right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Brodie said, setting the glass on the table.

  A short time later, Kate came back just as the kettle on the burner began to whistle. “I’m going to make some green tea. Would you like some?”

  “No, actually, I think…I think I’d like to get cleaned up. Get some sleep.”

  “All right. My spare room’s just down the hall.”

  Brodie pushed herself out of the chair and followed Kate in silence until she was standing in the middle of the guest room. The furnishings were contemporary, and the walls were green, but other than that, Brodie didn’t pay attention to anything except the state of her clothes.

  Kate walked over to the dresser and pulled something out of a drawer. “I think you’ll need these.”

  Brodie sneered at the pajamas she was being handed. “I doubt we wear the same size.”

  “I doubt it, too, but these belong to Gina.” When Kate saw Brodie’s eyes narrow, she snorted. “I have some of mine at her flat, too. For those late nights when we’ve both had too much to drink. It’s easier than sleeping in our clothes.”

  “Oh,” Brodie said, glancing around. “I need a bath.”

  “Through there,” Kate said, pointing to a door. “Do you want any help?”

  “The last time you saw my body, you ran from the room,” Brodie said, snatching up the PJs. “And I don’t know about you, but I think I can do without repeating that particular experience.”

  “Brodie—”