Sandra looked at him, impatience clear on her face. Brandon cleared his throat. “You asked me once if I knew more about the fire. I do. I was there.”
Sandra’s blank look didn’t change. “I know that.”
“But there’s something you don’t know. Something happened that night that haunts me every day. I was young, stupid, and rash. I sold drugs to a teenage girl at that party. She had no idea what she was doing.” Brandon took a deep breath. “She overdosed before the explosion, and couldn’t get out of the house in time.”
“Chloe.” The word was a gasp. Suddenly, tears appeared in Sandra’s eyes. “My sister?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“For so long, I thought she died because of me. Because I couldn’t get to her in time.” She was crying now, the tears flowing freely. “But she didn’t. She died because of you! I lost her because of you! Because you sold drugs to her!” Sandra shot up, eyes red. “You bastard! How dare you come in here, Brandon? How dare you think you can fix things? My older sister died because of you. That night ruined my life forever!”
Brandon flexed and unflexed his fists helplessly. He knew she was right. But, now that she’d learned the worst, he had to push on. “That night changed me too, Sandra. It changed everything about me. Never again were there any lives broken because of what I did.”
“You’re defending yourself? You’re a fucking hypocrite, Brandon. Get out!” Sandra screamed. “Get out now!”
Brandon ignored her, and took a step toward the counter. Sandra backed away. “Look. This is what happened. I graduated high school; I did well. When I finished, at eighteen, I left all the money I’d made with my grandparents. I told them to give it to my sisters and brothers. I went to Swarthmore, finished two years there, but got booted for dealing.”
“That’s a great story.”
“It’s the truth. I’m being honest with you. That’s where I met Clarisse. She was the arts professor I told you about in Seattle. And I swear, never again has anyone’s life been broken because of me. I was young and stupid at the start—”
“You do the same thing now!” Sandra accused.
“It’s different. I only sell to adults rich enough to afford luxury spending. Athletes, actors, music producers, fortune five hundred execs… the type of people who can control their drug use. Clarisse and I built our network from the ground up. We provide the product, and we’ve worked with the DEA, with police officers, with government officials to make sure everything stays squeaky clean. Everything we do hinges on that. There’s never any violence. We never, ever sell to kids. We don’t use drugs ourselves. The people we recruit as our distributors are never younger than twenty-five. And the people we sell to… well, they’re all people who know what they’re doing. They know how to get help when they need it. We make sure of that. Ever since I started this whole thing with Clarisse, I’ve been saving as much money as I could so I could retire, get out of the game, and move on to the next chapter of my life.”
Her tears had stopped as he talked, but her eyes were still red. “I want you to leave.”
“Sandra, you’re the next chapter of my life. I’ve been waiting for this day for years. The last job is done, and my savings are topped off. I can see my family again. My sisters, my younger brothers. I can see how they’ve grown up, see what they’re doing. I can see my mother again.” He looked straight at her. “I don’t want to do it without you.”
“I said, I want you to leave.” Her tone was icy cold.
“Not without you. Not until you look me in the eye and tell me you want me to go. Until I know that’s what you really want.”
Sandra stood even taller. She looked him straight in the eye. There was not a flicker of doubt in her words. “I want to you go. Now. Never speak to me again.”
Brandon staggered back, shocked. The words hurt. “Sandra…”
“Now!” Sandra ordered, unlocking the door and holding it open for him to leave.
Brandon couldn’t believe his ears. But, he’d told Sandra he would respect her decision. “The lady of the manor has spoken,” he said under his breath. He turned, and left the office.
Sandra waited until Brandon was out of sight. When she was sure he wouldn’t come back, she shut the door firmly and locked it. Then, she picked up a box of Kleenex and walked very calmly to the bathroom.
There, she sank down and cried.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Brandon got into his car and drove.
He didn’t know where he was going, and didn’t care. He needed the feel of freedom, the exhilaration of power. He whipped past other cars on the freeway, not caring how close he came to colliding. With his foot on the gas, it wasn’t long before he was doubling, nearly tripling the speed limit.
There was too much pain in Ocean Shores for him to ever go back. Too much that reminded him of Sandra in that small town. He’d poured his heart out to her—the first time he’d ever done something like that in his life—and still she told him to go.
He’d meant everything he told Sandra. Maybe he was a fool for hoping it would be good enough. Of course it wasn’t. You betrayed her.
But, never in a million years did he think she would tell him to leave, and mean it. In a single breath, she carved his heart out and cleaved it in two.
Vaguely, he became aware of his phone ringing. Over and over again. He ignored it. His second phone joined in. He ignored them both. Whatever Clarisse wanted could wait. Brandon was out of the business now.
As he drove faster and faster, urging his car for speed, he felt something tug at the back of his mind. Some loose thought trying to break free. But he was too angry with himself to pay attention. All he wanted was to forget himself in the sound of his roaring engine, the thrill of speed, the danger of driving at the very edge.
When the sun set hours later, that stray thought came crashing into his consciousness.
Sandra’s eyes had been dark when she told you to go.
The insight was a beacon in the dark. He didn’t know how he’d missed it before. With that mask over her eyes, there was no way Brandon could believe, not in his heart of hearts, that she actually wanted him to leave.
She was masking her real self again. And he would not let her go until he got the truth from her.
He veered off at the next exit, stopped the car, and took out his phone. There were more than a dozen missed calls from Clarisse. They were punctuated by a single text message:
Trouble.
Sandra left the office after all her tears had been cried. She was alone now, sitting in the dark on her bed. She was exhausted, but her mind raced, replaying everything Brandon had said over and over again.
Seeing him today had only brought the pain he’d caused back to the surface. But, as his words danced in her head, she became more uncertain of herself.
In a way, she was proud of how she’d handled things. She hadn’t trusted herself before to talk to him—she was afraid she’d be too weak. But when he’d come to see her today, she’d proven herself strong. She’d stood up to him and told him exactly what she thought. It was only after he’d left that she had fallen apart.
And yet… something about what he had said made her think. She’d only picked up on it when she got home, when she had time to digest the conversation in her mind. Brandon had told her that there was no violence in anything he did. But, Josh had told her otherwise. Clearly, one of them was lying.
She suspected Brandon. He’d deceived her before. He had kept his true occupation hidden from her for. Something he had said nagged in the back of her mind. Maybe it had to do with the leftover feelings from before, maybe it was just love trying to break free… but Sandra didn’t think so.
In a strange way, Brandon had been right about what he told her today. He said he never lied to her straight out. That was the truth. Well, mostly. He said he didn’t know anything about the fire, when he clearly did. On a logical level, Sandra could understand why Brandon was afraid to admit b
eing there, and all the other things he avoided talking about. He did not lie about them straight-up. Not in the traditional sense.
Moreover, she was sure he’d been utterly sincere when he’d told her that there was no violence involved in his drug operation. But if that were the truth, how about Josh’s story of the knife? Sandra had undressed Brandon many times before, and not once spotted the weapon. She was sure if he kept it on him, she would have known.
A pounding at the door startled her from her thoughts.
Sandra frowned. It couldn’t be the landlord. She’d paid rent in cash earlier this month. And it definitely couldn’t be Cassie again. Her knocks were more delicate.
The pounding continued, its urgency rising.
She didn’t know what compelled her to answer instead of staying in her bed. And yet, she found herself walking across the room to the door. Maybe it’s Josh?
She opened the door—and found a breathless, gasping Brandon leaning against the door frame, looking like he’d run ten city blocks.
“Brandon!” she exclaimed. “How did you know I lived—” she stopped, steeling herself, and made her voice cold. “I told you, I don’t want to see you again.”
He ignored the remark. “It’s Josh. Your friend?”
Sandra shook her head. “I don’t see how that has to do with anything—”
“He’s in trouble.” Maybe it was the grave tone of his voice, maybe it was the surprise of seeing Brandon so frazzled on her doorstep, but something prevented Sandra from slamming the door in his face.
She remained cautious, however. “What do you mean?”
“There’s not enough time to explain. If I can find him, maybe I can help. Do you know where he is?”
“No, I haven’t seen—”
She cut off in surprise when he slammed a fist against the doorframe. “Fuck!”
“What is it?” Now she was alarmed. “What’s going on?”
“I need to find him.”
“Why? What happened? Brandon?”
“Will you believe me if I tell you?”
Sandra threw caution to the wind. If Josh is in trouble… “Yes.”
“He got involved with the wrong type of people. I think he pissed someone off. I warned him about it, but the kid wouldn’t listen.”
“You warned him? What do you mean?”
“That morning,” Brandon explained, “when you found us. He’s been selling pot for a few months. He had been trying to move up to more lucrative, more expensive drugs. He was doing it by himself, like an idiot, with no cover, no protection. I warned him if he kept it up, he’d get into trouble. That’s the reason I came to Ocean Shores in the first place—to find the kid trying to carve out a place for himself on this territory.”
Sandra frowned. “That’s not what Josh said about that morning.”
“Oh? You talked to him?”
“Yes.” She paused, trying to decide whether she should tell Brandon anything else. Ultimately, her concern for Josh won out. “He said you were harassing him for more money, after you sold cocaine to his friends.”
Brandon barked a cruel laugh. Sandra stepped back. “If you believe that…” he muttered, shaking his head. “He tricked you, Sandra. He lied to you. He’s been dealing drugs. I would never sell to high school kids. Nobody I work with would either. If that’s what he told you, he must have done it to slander me.”
“How can I believe you?”
“Have you noticed anything unusual about him recently? You two are friends. Have you seen anything outside the ordinary?”
“Actually… yes.” Sandra could hardly believe she was entertaining Brandon’s explanation. “Cassie found some money in his backpack. Cash.”
“Where do you think it came from?”
“He said he started an online business. Selling computer parts, or repairing them, or something like that. It seemed strange to me, because he never had a thing for compu—” she gasped. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”
“I always do.”
“You said the ‘wrong type of people.’ Do you mean… your people?”
Brandon opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. “It’ll take too long to explain. I’ve already lost too much time. I have to find him.”
“I’m coming with you.” Surprise flashed on Brandon’s face, mixed with a hint of pleasure. Or satisfaction. It was hard to tell. “But,” Sandra amended, “I still don’t know if I can trust you.”
“Forget trust for now. We have to find Josh. This very minute, he could be in serious trouble.”
“How serious?”
“His life could be in jeopardy,” Brandon replied soberly.
Brandon waited impatiently while Sandra got her jacket and shoes. He was growing anxious. Time was running short, and it was his fucking fault for not answering Clarisse’s calls earlier!
Brandon had more pride than to come to Sandra’s apartment to trick her into talking to him. But the advice Clarisse had given him when he spoke to her on the phone an hour ago still resonated in his head.
“You have to fight for her, Brandon,” Clarisse said. “Take it from me. I’ve seen you together. Sandra is the best thing in your life.”
“I want to—but I can’t. I don’t deserve her. I promised honesty, and didn’t deliver. The girl who died because of me was her sister. And I kept that truth from Sandra.”
“That was a lifetime ago. You have to push through this.”
“How? She knows the truth, and she has a right to hate me. Not just for lying to her, but because of who I am.”
“Drugs harmed me too, Brandon. I lost everything because of them. But the only way I could move on past the fear was to take control. I made them a part of my life. And ever since, they haven’t been able to hold me in fear’s grasp.
“It’s the same for her. Sandra is strong enough to overcome this. Your love is strong enough to overcome it. Don’t lose her because you’re afraid.”
Brandon stiffened. “I’m not afraid.”
“Then go to her. But first, you need to find Mark.”
So, while he would not give up on Sandra, it wasn’t the reason he was here. That fight was for another time. He had to find Josh and get him out of trouble.
Apparently, Brandon’s threats hadn’t made enough of an impression on the kid. Josh had continued dealing. Mark heard, and decided to get involved himself. Clarisse learned that Mark had lured Josh somewhere far away tonight. And if Mark did anything stupid, as Brandon and Clarisse were convinced he was apt to do, their entire operation would come crumbling down. Even the best jawboning couldn’t hold up to the inquiries and scrutiny they would receive from cops and federal agents if Josh got hurt tonight.
Brandon was completely focused on making sure nothing happened to that kid.
Sandra flew to him, her eyes dark but determined. “Let’s go.”
Sandra’s scent, unembellished by perfume or fragrant shampoos, made it hard for Brandon to resist sweeping down and kissing her. For an entire fucking week he hadn’t tasted her! He yearned for Sandra in the worst kind of way.
But kissing her now would only betray her trust. It would make her think this was just a ruse for him to see her. It was not. Things were serious, and tonight—it could be life or death.
Brandon nodded stiffly, clenching his fists to resist grabbing her, and turned down the hall.
“Wait,” Sandra called out. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. How did you know I lived here?”
He turned, and looked at her as he would at a child. “Come on. I’m not stupid.”
As she hurried after Brandon, Sandra’s mind whirled with all the horrible possibilities of what might happen to Josh.
If this wasn’t all some trick. But something told her it was not. Nobody, nobody would be cruel enough to make this up. Brandon had said Josh’s life could be in danger.
Still, Sandra knew she had to remain cautious. She knew she had to control her emotions around the man wh
o aroused them so easily.
“Do you know where he lives?” Brandon called back from ahead of her. As usual, his long, determined strides made it hard for Sandra to keep up.
“Yes. It’s not far from here.”
“Hurry.”
They rushed to Brandon’s car, and Sandra directed them to Josh’s house. It was a tiny rancher on a small lot, and must have been at least a century old. Mold and mildew grew thick on the roof, and the windows were smeared with dirt and grime. His mother was not prosperous.
All the lights were off. Brandon skidded the car to a stop on the street and ran out. When Sandra caught up to him, he was pounding on the door. There was no answer.
“His mom works night shifts,” Sandra explained.
“Is there another way in?” Brandon demanded.
“Why?”
“We have to make sure he’s not here.”
Sandra thought for a minute. “Around back. There’s a window that opens to his room.”
Brandon raced around the house, found the window, and turned to Sandra. “Wait here.”
“I’m coming with you,” she insisted.
“Breaking and entering isn’t something you seem cut out for,” Brandon observed.
“That window isn’t something you seem you’d fit through,” Sandra shot back. Before Brandon could object, Sandra stripped the screen and climbed through the opening. She heard a grunt behind her.
“Open the door for me, will you?” he asked.
She didn’t reply as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. When they did, she picked her way through the jungle of clothes and scattered belongings on the bedroom floor, and went to unlock the back door for Brandon.
“Are you sure there’s nobody home?” he asked.
“I didn’t examine all the rooms, but yes.” Her words were dry.
Yours to Savor Page 33
