“Come on, babe. Don’t be like that. You used to be such fun… and I’m always ready for that. Why don’t we go somewhere more quiet and get to know each other again.”
Acid bile had crawled up her throat and she had to swallow hard to be able to speak. “Leave me alone. We don’t have anything to say to each other.”
His fingers tightened and she winced, tugging at her arm. “Don’t be like that. We both know that you’re a little whore, Aubrey. You had quite the reputation in high school. It’s a shame you and I never met up back then but we can remedy that tonight. You may have fucked practically every guy in school but I can show you what a real man is. You won’t need anyone else after I’ve had you.”
The mere suggestion of having sex with Bruce Livingston made her physically ill.
With a burst of strength, she yanked her arm away, rubbing at the livid marks his bruising grip had left behind. “Get the fuck away from me, Bruce. I’m not that girl anymore and even if I was I sure as hell wouldn’t screw you. You were slime then and it looks like nothing has changed.”
Bruce had been a few years ahead of Aubrey in school and kind of a jerk so she was shocked to see him at a fancy party like this one. She’d assumed he would end up selling used cars and wearing plaid suits with white shoes. Even at the most fragile moments of her life she’d had the sense to keep away from him. He had a reputation for cheating on his exams and being abusive to his girlfriends.
“You don’t want to say no to me.”
His left hand sported a gold wedding band and she silently pitied any woman who would have had the unfortunate luck to be married to him.
“Go back to your poor wife and leave me the hell alone.”
Aubrey’s voice was louder than she’d intended and a few people milling by stopped for a moment before moving on. Bruce stepped forward, crowding her personal space, and she lurched backwards only to find herself pressed up against the wall. His breath was hot with the unmistakable stench of whiskey and cigarettes. Blood pounded in her ears as his arms effectively caged her in keeping her his prisoner.
“I think you might want to be a little nicer to me, Aubrey. I’d hate to have to tell Travis what a slut you are…assuming he doesn’t already know. Does he know that you’re easy? That you’ll do it with anyone? If he doesn’t I sure as hell would love to be the one to tell him.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she opened her mouth to tell him off but he was too quick. His hand grabbed her jaw jerking her head up so they were nose to nose. Whimpering at the pain, she tried to keep her fear hidden but her vision blurred with tears.
“I’m different. I don’t do that anymore.”
Even to her own ears she sounded lame despite it being the God’s honest truth.
Bruce laughed and leaned down so his lips were near her ear, a malodorous funk filling her nostrils and making her want to retch. She trembled and a tear escaped, running down her cheek. She’d never wanted Travis to know about her past.
Every word Bruce said was true. She had been easy in high school, sleeping with guy after guy in some mad dance to find love, affection, and acceptance. Her adoptive parents had been wonderful but she’d been haunted by the fact that her own mother couldn’t love her enough to stay sober and care for her. Screwing guy after guy had been her way of coping with the rejection and pain. It had been some sort of anesthetic, numbing the anguish but never quite eradicating it.
Bruce pressed her harder against the unforgiving wall until she twisted her face away not wanting to look at him. He was so fucking satisfied with himself it was sickening.
“Right. You’ve changed. Sluts like you never change. You love cock, don’t you? Well, I’m going to give it to you like you’ve never had it before.”
The thought of doing anything intimate with an asshole like Bruce Livingston pushed her into action. She wasn’t some shrinking violet that needed to be rescued. She was a girl from the mean streets of Chicago and she sure as hell wasn’t acting like it. He might have the upper hand but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a play to make.
Grabbing his forearms to steady herself, she lifted her leg and drove her kneecap right into his groin, watching in satisfaction as he sucked in a breath and his eyes rolled back in his head. She shoved him away as he groaned loudly, stumbling back with his hands over his family jewels.
“You fucking cunt. I’ll get you for this,” Bruce spat, his face almost purple as he continued to pant, bent over and obviously hurting.
“Don’t go around grabbing women, you bastard. Stay the fuck away from me.”
Christ on a cracker, they’d managed to garner some definitely unwanted attention. A few people were watching them but not one person came to Bruce’s aid.
His own lousy reputation must be well known.
She might be a slut but he was a douchebag, and that was far worse.
“You’ll wish you hadn’t done that.” Bruce straightened but winced, his teeth snapping together. “I think I’ll find Travis and pull him aside for a long chat. Whatever you’ve told him I bet it isn’t the entire truth.”
Game over. Her lofty perch as perfect girlfriend to Travis Anderson was about to be knocked to the ground. Bruce had always been a vindictive little shit in school and she doubted anything was different now. He would definitely find Travis and tell him everything and then probably make up more shit that wasn’t even true.
“You don’t scare me. Stay the hell away from me and Travis. Your threats mean nothing.”
Except that they did although she thought she sounded kind of convincing.
“You’re shaking you’re so scared,” Bruce taunted. “By the end of the night you’ll be ruined. I’ll make sure everyone knows about your past. Too bad you couldn’t be more cooperative, Aubrey. We could have had fun together.”
Turning on his heel, Bruce strode away only slightly limping from his injury. She stood there for several minutes letting her heart rate go back to normal even as guests meandered by, clearly wondering what she was doing all alone and outside the ladies’ room. Finally she took a deep breath and tucked her purse under her arm.
Wiping away a stray tear, she scanned the room for Travis. She had to tell him the truth – all of it – before Bruce found him and told him his own twisted, fucked up version. At least if she did it, she could somehow explain.
It wouldn’t make any difference of course. No man wanted a woman as thoroughly used and soiled as Aubrey was but keeping the secret all this time hadn’t been easy. She hadn’t liked hiding anything from him and it had kept them from furthering the relationship.
In and out of bed.
It would be painful and messy but it was time to come clean. She’d tell Travis her entire sordid history.
Then she’d pack her bags – she was sure he’d insist on it – and walk out of his life forever.
Pain sliced through her heart at the thought of leaving. She’d fallen for him and that had been a mistake. He’d been funny, charming, and smart. He’d treated her like a lady when she knew damn well she wasn’t one. Her fairy tale world was being shredded and she only had herself to blame.
She’d tried to be perfect for him but in the end she wasn’t enough. She’d never be enough. Not for him.
Chapter Five
‡
Since coming back from the ladies’ room, Aubrey had been acting strangely. Her gaze darting around the room as if there were invisible ninjas following her, she’d barely spoken a word only gulping down a glass of champagne before Travis had drawn her onto the dance floor.
They’d made small talk and laughed but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. Her mind was a million miles away even though her body was never more than a few inches from his own. He kept his arm around her the entire evening but he could feel the slight tremble in her limbs. Her skin was pale and her lips were pressed together in a thin line. This wasn’t arousal but fear.
“Baby, you can talk to me about anything, you know.”
He kept his lips close to her ear so she could hear him over the band playing in the background.
Instead of looking him in the eye, her gaze fell to the floor.
“Can we go upstairs? I have a headache.”
Her untouched birthday cake sat on the table in front of them. Aubrey loved chocolate but she’d barely glanced at the plate that had been slid in front of her over a half an hour ago. Instead she’d looked around nervously clearly upset about…something.
“Of course. We’ve done our duty here tonight. We’ll go upstairs and I’ll draw you a nice, hot bath. How does that sound?”
Aubrey looked up at him but he had a feeling that she didn’t really see him. “Wonderful. You spoil me, Travis.”
“You deserve it.” It felt like he was always telling her this and she didn’t seem to understand that he enjoyed taking care of her and seeing her smile. She never asked for anything which only made him want to give her everything.
He heard her swift indrawn breath and she blinked a few times, her eyes shiny in the low lights. “No, I don’t but I love that you think so.”
“It’s going to be my pleasure to convince you otherwise.”
Aubrey finally looked up at him, their gazes locking. Her chin lifted as if she expected a right hook to the jaw.
“Travis, we need to talk.”
In the long history of mankind, nothing good had come from those four words. Travis was about to get kicked to the curb and he didn’t have a clue as to why. His heart skipped a beat or two and his abdomen tightened painfully.
There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop this. He’d fallen hard for Aubrey and he’d thought she’d felt the same. She’d been shy and tentative but there had been a softness in her eyes that he’d taken for love. Or at least something that might turn into love.
He’d been wrong.
For perhaps the first time in his life, he’d let himself believe that she’d cared. He’d convinced himself that he was making her happy. Now he’d have a broken heart to show for it.
Because he wouldn’t fucking beg her to stay although every cell in his body was screaming for him to do just that. Hell, a man had to have some dignity and he wasn’t planning to lose his no matter what happened in the next few minutes.
“Of course we can talk, kitten. What do you want to talk about?”
Travis kept his tone mild as if she said things like this every day.
Her fingers played with the stem of the champagne glass. “I need to tell you something.”
She wasn’t making this easy for either of them. If she was dumping him it would be far kinder to just get to it and be done.
“You can tell me anything.”
He was a big fat liar but what else could he say?
Her knuckles had gone white and her chest rose and fell quickly in her agitation. Whatever it was she had to tell him she clearly didn’t find it pleasant.
“I probably should have told you sooner,” she began, looking down at the table where her fingers gripped the edge. “But…it’s just that it’s hard to talk about. I’ve spent the last few years trying to put it behind me.”
Wait. This didn’t sound like a brush off. More like a confession.
Travis reached out to capture her fingers with his own. “Honey, whatever you have to tell me is going to be fine. If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine too.”
Aubrey shook her head, her expression resolute. “No, I want to. It’s been weighing on my mind every day.”
He didn’t like the sound of that so he squeezed her hand in encouragement, moving his chair closer to her own.
“Then I want to hear it. But the ballroom of this fine establishment probably isn’t the best place to have a personal conversation. What do you think?”
Her cheeks turned rosy and she looked around as if noticing for the first time they weren’t alone.
“This is not the place. How about a walk on the beach?”
Travis kept his arm wrapped around her middle as they headed for the French doors, his fingers brushing the silken ends of her long hair. Stripping off their shoes at the bottom of the staircase, they dug their toes into the sand as the sound of the waves drowned out the music wafting from the ballroom.
“So what is it that you want to tell me, kitten?”
“I need to tell you–” Aubrey broke off, her forehead crinkled. She pointed to the water lapping at the shore. “What’s that?”
A dark lump was lying on the beach the water pooling around it with each pull of the tide. “I’ll check but it’s probably just a bag of garbage someone dumped. People these days have no respect for nature. I’ll have the resort staff clean it up.”
Except when Travis got a good look he could clearly see arms and legs. Something had been dumped on the beach but it wasn’t trash.
“Aubrey, go upstairs.”
Travis fished for the phone in his pocket intending to call 911.
“What is it?”
Now she was right next to him and could see everything he could by the sound of her sucked in breath.
“You don’t listen worth a damn, woman. I said go upstairs.”
Travis gently shoved her toward the resort and away from the body but she didn’t budge an inch.
“Stubborn as hell,” Travis growled under his breath as he took a few steps forward to get a better look. The man was lying on his back his face only half illuminated but Travis easily recognized him.
“Who is it?” Aubrey asked, her voice quivering and her arms wrapped around her torso. “Is he dead?”
Very dead. Bruce Livingston’s chest was covered in blood, his face ghostly pale.
Chapter Six
‡
Travis once again had to rein in his displeasure. He wasn’t the most patient of men on the best days and finding a dead body – someone he knew – certainly made it one of the worst. He hadn’t been a friend of Bruce Livingston but he’d never wished anything bad to happen to him.
Travis had already told his story to the first police officer on the scene but the detective who had just arrived wanted to hear it again which meant that the first recitation hadn’t been recorded in any way. He couldn’t help but think that West’s cops would be better organized.
They were currently sequestered away from the other party guests in another hotel conference room. Travis kept his arm around Aubrey trying to comfort her in some way. She’d been pale and drawn since they’d found Bruce dead, shaking and looking close to tears. He blamed himself as he should have been a hell of a lot more forceful about sending her back upstairs but he simply hadn’t known how grisly the scene was until they both were right up on it. It had been way too dark outside even with the full moon.
“Can we get you folks some coffee or water?” The detective from the local police department waved toward a long table against the wall. Probably in his mid-forties, he had that world weary appearance that often seemed to go with a long career in law enforcement. His hairline was receding, his face was tanned and lined, and his suit slightly rumpled. “The resort staff has graciously provided some refreshments.”
“Nothing for me. Aubrey?”
She shook her head as well and took a few deep breaths. “No, I’m fine. I’d like to get this over with and go up to our room.”
From the look on the cops face, Travis didn’t think that was going to happen any time in the near future. The dark haired man had settled in, ordering coffee and pastries while gathering Bruce’s family and friends in the room next to this one. It was going to be a long night.
“My name is Detective Dan Prather and I’m now in charge of this case. Can you tell me how you came to find the deceased?”
Travis squeezed Aubrey’s hand to let her know he would take these questions. “Miss Grayson and I were heading down to the beach and that’s when we saw Bruce lying there.”
He knew enough about cops to know to keep his answers brief and to the point. No extra details. No editorializing.
“Why were you going to the beach?”
“We wanted a quiet place to talk.”
The detective’s brows lifted and his lips twisted into a smirk. “Talk? May I ask what about?”
Aubrey’s shoulders jerked in response to the question but Travis simply pulled her closer to his own body. “How is that relevant to the investigation, Detective?”
The man’s flinty blue eyes iced over and his jaw hardened. “I’m just trying to get all the facts, Mr. Anderson. Two people at a party go out to the beach to find a quiet place to talk when they have a fifteen hundred square foot suite upstairs? That brings questions to my mind.”
“We didn’t want to leave the party. We wanted a few moments to talk. That’s all.”
The detective tapped his stubby pencil against the pad of paper. “How well did you know Mr. Livingston?”
Travis shrugged, expecting that question. “I saw him once or twice a year at parties like this one. He’s the grandson in law of a good friend.”
“Martin Guinness?” Travis nodded wondering how his friend was holding up. “So how would you characterize your relationship with the deceased?”
“Acquaintances,” Travis answered easily. “We didn’t keep in touch other than seeing each other at these events. We weren’t friends if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That is what I’m asking. So you didn’t communicate in any way with Mr. Livingston? If I check his phone, your number won’t be there?”
“I have no clue what will be in his phone but I’ve never received a call from him.”
It took every bit of willpower he had to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. There was a murderer running around and this clown was acting like he and Aubrey were suspects. They had nothing to do with Bruce’s death but Travis could name a few people off the top of his head that hadn’t thought much of the man. He didn’t like to speak ill of the dead but finding those with motive wasn’t going to be a problem.
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Livingston?”
“Earlier this evening. Right after dinner. About nine or nine thirty.”
Indecent Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 3) Page 3
