Back in Black

by Lori Foster

  Unfortunately, the fool was all about the SBC and protecting the devil at the helm. She’d figured that out easily enough. So, fuck him. Dickey Thompson could go down with the rest of the organization, as far as she cared.

  Millie first looked up news of the fire, but only found one small account. Apparently no one cared when a house in the slums turned into kindling. The report said that no one had perished, but that was okay. Brett would get the message anyway.

  And so would Audrey.

  She laughed again, imagining the fear that Audrey was starting to feel. She might even have some suspicions, but she couldn’t prove a damn thing. This time, Millie had unfailingly covered her trail. No more anger-management courses for her.

  Next, Millie pulled up the article she’d posted on Brett. How easy it had been to dig up the dirt from his past. Even his mother and father hadn’t wanted him, but Audrey, damn her, chose to stick by his side no matter what. After all the work they’d done, all the work she’d done, to reveal the SBC and Drew Black as evil, blood-hungry, violence-mongering pricks, Audrey had still turned her back on them for a man.

  And not just a man, but a fighter, their enemy. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Audrey deserved whatever she got.

  Hunkering in front of her laptop, Millie enjoyed all the comments from posters who wanted to support Brett in his time of need—something she knew he’d hate—when up popped a new headline.

  The owner of the site encouraged everyone to check out a live news conference from Drew Black. Live? What was that demon up to now?

  Millie read a follow-up comment from someone bouncing back and forth between the sites. It read: Dude, he’s destroying that WAVS chick. You have to check it out!

  More posts popped up in agreement, most of them thrilled by what was surely another unjustified attack against her.

  Millie went cold inside. No, Drew wouldn’t dare. Not now, not with his job gone and his whore exposed. Even an idiot would have enough sense to lie low, to ride out the storm without more public exposure.

  Feeling numb, Millie clicked on the link—and reeled back in disbelief when Drew Black’s voice came through her computer. He was doing this live, right now, despite everything.

  She started breathing hard and fast. Humiliation and rage expanded in an explosion of emotion that blocked part of the garbage Drew Black spewed for all to hear.

  But key words, like fucking nutcase, and sick idiot, and pathetic loser out for revenge, all seeped into her burning brain.

  The fury built, boiled, until Millie snatched up the laptop and flung it across the room with a guttural scream of rage. The screen cracked and hinges broke.

  Standing, panting, her hands in fists and her eyes burning, she focused on one thing. Only one.

  Making Drew Black pay.

  AUDREY was a mess, and she knew it. Her eyes were not only red from fighting tears, but because of the smoke. Her wrinkled clothes and tangled hair smelled of smoke, too. She looked like a walking disaster.

  She’d taken Spice straight to her apartment and set her up in the kitchen with a makeshift litter box, a water bowl, and a soft bed of towels. Even though the cat seemed fine, she might need to see a vet. Reaching Brett was now more important than ever.

  If he wouldn’t answer her calls, she’d just have to go to him. If he went back to his apartment without knowing . . . She shuddered. He had to be told about the fire and where to find Spice.

  She called again, and this time she left a message, saying, “Look, I know you must hate me right now, but I have to talk to you. It’s important. I . . . I have Spice. She’s fine. I just wanted you to know. I’ll explain when you call me back or . . . I see you.”

  When she pulled up in front of Roger’s Rodeo, she searched the lot and found what she thought was Brett’s black truck. Her chest hurt at the thought of confronting him before a crowd. Not that she believed Brett would go out of his way to humiliate her. He wasn’t like that. But a cold shoulder would accomplish the same thing.

  After rubbing her tired eyes one more time, Audrey put a hand over her thudding heart and left her car. People glanced her way as she walked into the bar, making her even more self-conscious about her disheveled clothes and hair.

  She was standing at the outskirts of the main room, working up her courage and conviction, when a big, handsome man stepped in front of her. After blinking fast, Audrey recognized him as the fighter Havoc Conor.

  He tilted his head to study her with an unreadable expression, making note of her rumpled appearance. “You’re Audrey Porter, aren’t you?”

  Her nervousness grew, but she wouldn’t be driven away before seeing Brett. She nodded. “Yes.”

  He looked her over, shook his head at her appearance, and asked, “Looking for someone?”

  “Brett Bullman.”

  “He’s here,” Havoc confirmed. Then he glanced behind her, narrowed his eyes, and took her arm. “Come with me.”

  He had her trotting along, moving between dancers, waitresses, and chatting throngs, before she finally found her voice. “Where are we going?”

  As he wended his way through the crowds, he leaned down near her ear so she could hear him. “You want to see Brett, right?”

  Her throat tightened. “Yes.” She did, she really did, but the place was so busy . . . meeting him outside would be preferable. “Maybe you could just tell him to come out front?”

  Havoc glanced behind her again. He had the advantage of much added height for a better view. “Brett’s right over here.”

  He rushed her so that she almost tripped, and he had to right her.

  Sounding apologetic, he asked, “You okay?”

  “Yes, thank you.” His eyes weren’t mean, just curious and maybe . . . protective. But that made no sense at all.

  Did he really think Brett would be cruel? She couldn’t imagine that. Indifferent, yes. Even angry. But despite her role in all this, she couldn’t imagine him cutting her down.

  The farther they went into the bar, the more her anxiety grew. And then finally, they came upon Brett.

  He sat at a table with two other men . . . and three women. Audrey stalled. She could barely breathe, so how could she talk?

  “They’re fans,” Havoc told her with a hand at the small of her back, nudging her forward. “That’s all. The guys are just being friendly.”

  “I . . .” Her heart suffered a crushing blow, but pride made her say, “He can see whomever he wants.”

  “Right.” Havoc propelled her right up next to Brett.

  Brett saw her, almost smiled, and then . . . didn’t. Everyone at the table looked at her, and then looked at her again, giving her a disbelieving once-over.

  Maybe she looked even worse than she realized.

  Havoc broke the awkwardness by saying, “Someone here to see you, Brett.”

  Belatedly, Brett stood. “Audrey.” Frowning, he studied her from head to toe. “What are you doing here?”

  Havoc leaned in to him. “Drew came in right behind her. I, ah, thought it’d be better if she didn’t run into him just yet.”

  One of the other guys stood, too. Audrey thought his name was Dickey something or other.

  Eyes flared, he said, “Shit. Is she the one?”

  Brett crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her as he spoke to the other fighter. “Audrey Porter.”

  The guy whistled. “Well, it’d be best if Drew has a day or two to cool down before he sees her.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Havoc said.

  The fighter held out a hand. “Dickey Thompson.”

  Stunned at the courtesy when obviously they all knew who she was, and what she was responsible for, Audrey took his hand. Voice wavering, she said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Thompson.” She switched her gaze back to Brett. “I tried to call, but—”

  “When?”

  Audrey didn’t understand him. He was distant, but not . . . furious. At least, he didn’t seem to be. “Several times tonight
. The last time was just a few minutes ago.”

  He frowned and fished out his cell. His mouth flattened. “It went dead. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

  He was apologizing . . . to her? Audrey shook her head, but couldn’t get a single word out.

  He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “I guess having my past up for discussion must’ve distracted me.”

  Big tears filled her eyes, and Audrey tried to blink them back. “Brett . . . it wasn’t me. It was Millie. I told her not to post her story—”

  “But she did anyway.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “With a few new twists.”

  Her throat tightened. “I was trying to explain why it was so important not to attack Ms. Noode. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

  He nodded, and then his eyes narrowed. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Oh, God, she’d almost forgotten about Spice! Thinking of the best way to give horrible news, Audrey licked her lips. “Everyone is fine, and Spice is safe at my apartment—”

  “Spice?” Dickey asked.

  “His cat,” Audrey said, and then in a rush to Brett: “I’m so sorry to tell you this, but someone burned down the building you live in. Everything is ruined.”

  His arms fell to his sides. Seconds ticked by with him saying nothing. And then: “How do you have my cat?”

  With each breath, she felt the lingering burn in her lungs. “The fire department wasn’t there yet, and I knew Spice was inside your apartment. The smoke was so bad, and she’s so small, that I didn’t think she’d survive if I didn’t get her out of there.”

  His expression darkened. “You went into the place for my cat?”

  “One of those nice young men below your apartment showed me how to use the fire escape. When I got in the kitchen, Spice came right to me. I was only in there a few seconds, I swear.”

  “Christ, Audrey.”

  Now he sounded angry. She stared up at him, unsure what to think. “She seems fine, Brett, just as smelly with smoke as I am. But I thought you might want to have her checked by the vet anyway.”

  After a heartbeat of surprise, Brett cupped her face. He examined her red-rimmed eyes and used his thumb to smooth away a smudge of soot off her cheek.

  She didn’t know what to think. He was being so sweet to her. “Brett?”

  As if her voice broke a spell, his brows came down, and then Havoc said, “Drew’s moving in.”

  With all of them acting like Drew would have her head, Audrey should have been nervous. But the only one she’d really been worried about was Brett, and he didn’t appear to hate her, so she could take on the world if need be.

  “It’s okay,” she told everyone. “I plan to apologize to Mr. Black and Ms. Noode, too. Might as well be now instead of later. An apology won’t change what’s happened, I know, but I do feel terrible about things.”

  Brett’s scowl eased, but not by much.

  And then suddenly she found herself behind three fighters.

  Brett said, “Hey, Drew.”

  Audrey gulped and her courage flagged. Was everyone so sure that Drew would verbally annihilate her with a roomful of witnesses? She closed her eyes and thought, Yes, he defi nitely would. Drew Black didn’t care what anyone else thought. She sort of admired him for that quality.

  And sadly, she couldn’t blame him for being furious. Not after the terrible scandal that had erupted because of her group.

  Her eyes snapped open when she heard Drew Black say, “Hiding something, Brett?”

  Havoc snorted. “Leave it alone, Drew.”

  “But I’d like to talk to the lady.”

  A woman’s voice said, “Now, Drew, I thought you wanted to talk to Brett.”

  “That, too. But since she’s here with him, I might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

  Dickey said, “Still can’t control him, Ms. Noode?”

  Obviously unconcerned with possible repercussions, Ms. Noode laughed. “It’s like trying to marshal a tornado. I can’t be expected to work miracles.” Then her voice firmed. “But I can promise there will be no killing.”

  Drew made a sound of exasperation. “For God’s sake, I’m not going to hurt her.”

  None of the fighters moved. That they would defend her like this, attempt to protect her . . . well, Audrey was humbled by their gallantry. Her own group had turned on her, and yet these men, the men she’d labeled as barbaric, thought to shield her.

  It wasn’t easy, but she wedged between Dickey and Brett and stepped forward to present herself. “Mr. Black.”

  “Ms. Porter.” His eyes narrowed on her. He looked a little surprised at the state of her condition. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Ms. Noode elbowed him.

  Audrey gulped and squared her shoulders. She would not be a victim in this. “Long story, but I’m fine.” She nodded to the woman. “Ms. Noode.”

  Seeming friendly enough, the other woman smiled. “Hello, Ms. Porter.”

  “Please, call me Audrey.”

  “If you’ll call me Gillian.”

  The men were all mute, which was somehow endearing.

  Drew shook his head, collected himself, and said to Audrey, “It’s past time we had a face-to-face, don’t you think?”

  “I had planned to contact you,” Audrey confirmed. She forced herself forward another step and folded her hands together to keep them from shaking. “I take full responsibility for the posting Millie put online in the name of WAVS. But I want you to know that I didn’t approve it, and I don’t condone it.”

  Drew crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her. “Is that right?”

  Audrey felt Brett’s hands settle onto her shoulders. She appreciated his support more than he could know. “What should have been a professional accounting of facts turned into a vicious, personal attack.”

  Drew shrugged. “Similar to the attack I heaped on Ms. Christian. Problem is,” he said, “she went after the wrong people.”

  Audrey flickered a look at Gillian. As Brett had told her, that awesome woman didn’t look like a victim in any way. Audrey admired her poise. “My sincere apologies to you, too.”

  Gillian waved that off as unnecessary. “I think we should all talk.”

  Drew looked past Audrey to Brett. “Right now is good for me. I’d like to clear the air and get all of this settled.”

  Audrey looked back in time to see Brett run a hand through his hair. He’d been through so much already. But she didn’t know how to help him.

  “Fine.” Brett turned back to the table of women and politely excused himself. They bade him farewell with no clinginess in sight.

  “Let’s go outside where it’s quieter,” Brett said. “We can all talk there.”

  Audrey glanced back at the women Brett left behind and saw that they were thrilled when Dickey Thompson rejoined them.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Brett whispered in her ear, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” They trailed out of the bar behind Drew and Gillian.

  “You didn’t.” And to Audrey’s surprise, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and even gave her a slight squeeze for reassurance.

  Somehow, she decided, they’d be able to work this out. She had to believe that, because she loved Brett Bullman more than anything.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE brisk night air gave Drew enough reason to pull Gillian into his side. Given that some patrons lingered on the walkway, Drew half expected her to move away. Public displays of affection were not her thing; she was too private for that.

  But Gillian didn’t budge. Instead, she curled into him and said low, “Be nice, Drew.”

  He rubbed his chin against the top of her head, feeling mellow now that they were making some headway. “Or what?”

  She looked up at him with her blue eyes intent. “Or . . . I’ll be disappointed.”

  He half smiled and then quickly kissed her lips. “Can’t have that, now
can we?” He led her toward the far end of the walk, away from the congestion of the front doors. “I’ll ruin my reputation if I don’t keep you satisfied.”

  She didn’t reply, but Drew saw the small smile that curved her mouth.

  It looked like another storm might be rolling in. Thick clouds obscured any sign of the moon, but street lamps and security lights from the bar kept the area well lit. Without the live band and elbow-to-elbow crowd, it was quieter out here, but not much more private.

  Brett and Audrey came around next to them. Drew had no idea what was going on between those two, but Brett’s little woman looked like she’d been through hell. From what he remembered in meeting her before, her idea of spiffing up meant dark jeans and something other than sneakers. But her current appearance was rough, even for her.

  Drew asked her, “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  Chagrined, Audrey nodded. “I’m sorry for the scent of smoke. It’s been one heck of a night. After that awful report about Brett was released, I went to see him. Luckily he wasn’t at home because someone had thrown a lit bottle of gasoline into his apartment building.”

  Drew’s mind jumped ahead to possibilities on that one. So many strange threats, and now, right after thrusting Brett’s life into the public forum, someone torched his apartment?

  Brett looked grim. “You shouldn’t have gone in there, Audrey.”

  “I couldn’t just leave Spice,” Audrey said. “I knew she had to be scared. And I know how much you care about her.”

  Perplexed, Drew asked, “Spice?”

  “My cat.” Brett kissed Audrey’s temple. “Audrey saved her.”

  Gillian said, “My God. You went into the building after her?”

  “It was mostly just smoke when I got there,” Audrey explained. “The fire hadn’t yet spread from the first floor.” And then to Brett, “But I think everything was destroyed. All your possessions . . .”

  “They’re just things, Audrey. I can replace them.”

  Talk about a shitty day . . . Drew saluted Brett for his cool head. “Let me know what I can do to help, okay?”

  Gillian beamed at him, making him say, “What?”

  “You are so generous.”