Chapter 21 - Brandt
"It wasn't your fault. Just about every human being on earth would have acted the same way, if they were in your position. Once you're dead you run out of options." I reach over the table to give her shoulder a squeeze. She looks heartbreakingly frail, and I don't like it one little bit. I can't believe that I'd never considered she might be a victim too in all of this. It never occurred to me. It was just too easy to hate her. I see now that all my anger and rage has been misplaced, and it needs to be redirected. While I can't do much about her late husband, there are plenty of things I wouldn't mind doing to that bastard Mal Adley, and I have a feeling I only know half the story.
When Harper's tears turn into giant, choking sobs, I go and pick her up, cradling her in my arms as I press my forehead to hers.
"It's going to be okay," I whisper, although I know no such thing. What I do know is that I'm going to do my best to get her out of this mess for good. There must be a way.
"It isn't," she whispers after a few minutes have passed. Reaching up to her eyes with the heel of her hand, she tries her best to brush the tears away.
"You know this could all be bullshit," Gabriel says, matter-of-factly. "This girl could be playing you." Poor old Gabriel. He's still jealous as hell, and he knows he can't compete with a woman. This situation is laughable. Where on earth do we go from here?
"Yeah, and I'm sure she starved herself for fun, too," I say acidly, looking at the livid bruises along her arm. There's a good chance I put those there, and yes, I feel guilty. Why didn't I insist on getting the story from her sooner? Now I feel like a complete shit, and I absolutely deserve to.
"Hey, she might be anorexic. Lots of chicks are into that these days." Gabriel's attempt at humour is not endearing him towards me.
"Shut up or get out!" I bark, flinging my thumb towards the door so he gets the message. "If you want to be here, stay quiet and listen. I'm not in the mood for your antics." While I know the guy is on my side, he's only there if it suits his own best interests. I've known Gabriel too long. I know how his mind works. Yes, he'd walk over water for me, but only as long as that allows him access to my pants. Cynical, moi? Absolutely.
Gabriel frowns, but grabs the bottle of whisky and takes another swig. He's not going anywhere. The man is one stubborn asshole, I'll give him that.
Folding his hands over his chest, he glares at me and says, "I'm staying. Someone here needs to be the voice of reason."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. If Gabriel is the voice of reason amongst us then we are extremely fucked - even more so than we were already.
Ignoring him, I bend my head down towards Harper and say, "What did Mal want with me?" I've already got the gist of the story, but I want to make sure I haven't missed anything. I assume he was just getting me out of the way to keep Alex happy, but that might not be the case. There might be something I've missed.
She takes her time to answer me, and it makes me a little nervous. It's as if she's thinking too carefully about what she wants to say. That can't be a good thing. Am I reading too much into this? Maybe she's just tired. For fuck's sake, we're all exhausted. Maybe we need to get some sleep.
"He was doing a favour for Alex. Alex knew I wouldn't have dropped you in it if he'd asked me himself. He could slap me around and share me with every man on the damn planet, but there was no chance I'd ever see you hurt for his amusement." Her voice tails off, but I can fill in the blanks, so I continue for her.
"But Mal was a different matter. Alex didn't want to see you killed. Mal, on the other hand, didn't give a shit whether you lived or died." Harper grimaces, and at first I think I've offended her, but she smiles ruefully.
"Yes, and no. Mal wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in my skull, but I'm not frightened of death. It's what would come before that. Mal likes to play with his victims before he kills them, and I wouldn't have been the exception to the rule. The thought of him..." Harper can't finish the sentence. I know she's thinking about what that bastard made her watch, and I want to kill him for it. Scrap that. I'm going to kill him. It's the least I can do for her. While I've been locked up with three square meals a day, she's been kicked around, starved, shared, choked for fun, and made to witness horrendous atrocities on a daily basis. I thought I'd had it bad, but now I'm not so sure. I know she has barely glossed over the details of what has happened to her, and the further I dig the more shit I'll find - I'm sure of it.
Hugging her closer I whisper, "I think we've talked enough for one day. Want to call it a night?" She is shaking in my arms, and she looks ill. Her skin is so pale it could almost be translucent, and I'm partly responsible for that. I need to get her to eat something and put her to bed.
Harper nods and runs a hand through her hair. "Soup and a bath. Can we do that?"
A flood of guilt washes through me. I have behaved abominably. I've dislocated her arm, kept her naked and chained up, violated her in nearly every way imaginable, and left her alone with a complete monster - not that I'm much better, as I've just described. I have no idea if I can make this right, but I do know I will have to at least try.
"We can do that." I'm quite frankly amazed that she isn't demanding to be driven to the nearest hotel so she can get away from us. That just goes to show the amount of crazy the poor woman has had to put up with for the last few years. How did Alex Wilkinson turn out to be such a bastard? I always knew there was something off about the guy, but what I've just heard takes it to a whole new level. His life was clearly on the FUBAR scale, and he was doing his best to take everyone down with him.
Picking Harper up, I decide to carry her straight upstairs to the bathroom. Giving Gabriel a quick nod, I figure he can sort himself out. We can decide what we're going to do in the morning. It's been a long day.
Harper snuggles closer to my chest on the ride up the stairs, and I wonder, for the millionth time, just what it would feel like to sink into her. I've imagined doing so too many times to count, but I've always been focused on angry, violent sex. Things have changed. Now I no longer want to destroy her; I want to keep her safe. She seems to think her death is imminent, but I'm here to prove otherwise. Nothing is happening to her on my watch. I don't know what we're going to do about the situation, but it will come to me. Perhaps I just need to sleep on it.
Focusing my efforts on getting her bathed, I'm somewhat surprised when she doesn't protest. She has every right to chuck me out of the bathroom, but she is surprisingly quiet. Is this because Alex has brainwashed her into obedience? The thought is abhorrent.
"Do you want me to leave you to it?" I have to ask. I have no right to be here. My actions from the past few days mean we are little more than enemies until I can try my best to make amends.
"No. Stay with me, Brandt." She steps into the bath and smiles at me. She is not eyeing me with menace, the way I almost wish she would, and now I feel even more guilty. In fact, she's smiling at me with those soft doe eyes of hers, and my cock wants to spear her in two. Jesus. My head is all over the place. The almost-blowjob I received from her earlier nearly made me implode, and I can't think like that around her. Perhaps I should just walk out. I really shouldn't be here. In fact, I turn around to do just that, but she puts her arm out to capture my wrist.
"Stay," she whispers with heart-wrenching sincerity. "This situation is not your fault and I can't be left alone. I'm so damn tired I'll probably fall asleep in the bath. Help me, Brandt." Her eyes flutter closed as if to confirm her statement.
Her hand drags mine into the bath and she brings it up to her lips and kisses it. She hands me a flannel and I sigh. This will just make things harder, but what the hell. I concede to her wishes and wash her, doing so with infinite gentleness. After all we've been through together she should despise me. If I was in her position right now I'd be clawing my eyes out and hurling as much abuse as I could muster.
"Why don't you hate me?" I ask, while she takes a sip from the mug of chicken soup I've brought her. C
ombing a vat of conditioner through her hair, I admire the dark chocolate, glossy strands. When it's freshly washed it's just a mass of bouncy curls that almost beg me to bury my hands in them. It's been flat and straggly for most of her time here thanks to me, but that's about to change.
"I could never hate you," she whispers. "You were just trying to get your own back for what's been done to you, and I completely understand that. If it had been me mistakenly put inside for five years, I'm pretty sure I'd have been pissed, too." I don't get how Harper can be so calm about this situation. If I was in her shoes I wouldn't be. I'm sure I'd be screaming the house down right about now.
"Tomorrow we'll get you some clothes, and then we'll sort out what we're going to do about Mal," I say. Bringing the showerhead up to her head so I can rinse the conditioner off, I reach for the faucet. She immediately sits upright.
"No. You can't fight Mal. We had a deal. You're off somewhere hot, remember? You promised. Mal has too many men behind him, and his empire is one of total corruption. If he can bribe the local police to look in the other direction, you don't stand a chance against him. You'll get yourself killed. I'm putting all this behind me, and so should you. Get out while you can. I have no idea how long it will take him to find me, but it won't be too much longer. Tomorrow I'll be off. You'll get to start your own life, too. All of this will be over. We will never get the closure we deserve, but that's a small price to pay for keeping our heads attached to our bodies."
She gives me a long look. It's a hard one that says 'don't argue with me'. For now, I'm not going to. We'll save that argument for tomorrow, but there will be an argument. I'm not leaving her here like a sitting duck while she waits for that bastard to come and gut her.
"Why don't you come with me?" I say, holding up a towel for her. "We could both leave together and start afresh." Even if she doesn't want to be anywhere near me, I could still look out for her.
"You don't understand, Brandt. I won't be safe anywhere. Mal will come for me, and if you're anywhere near me you'll be next on his list. I've accepted the fact. The best thing you can do is get the hell away from me as quickly as is humanly possible. Go with Gabriel. He'll keep you safe. He's smart, and he's an effective killing machine. He'll get you out of a tight spot if necessary. If Mal does catch up with you, you don't know anything. Tell him you got your hands on me, but I ran away. Hopefully that will be enough to get you out of trouble, but I wouldn't count on it. You don't want to be anywhere near that guy. I wasn't exaggerating when I told you what he got up to. He has no concept of morality. He makes his own rules, and if you stand in the way, you're surplus to requirement. If he thinks you're a threat, he'll take you out. Avoid him at all costs. Promise me, Brandt. I've done enough damage. I couldn't cope if I thought your death was on my conscience too."
I grab her hand and clench it tightly. "If it makes you feel better, I promise." The promise is weak, though. I'm not leaving her to die. Whatever we do tomorrow, we'll sort out some sort of plan. I'm going to get her hidden away. Even if I have to marry Helena in order to have the cash to do so, that bastard Adley is not getting his hands on her. I can get divorced as quickly as I can get married, and I don't owe Helena anything. If she can deal with getting knocked up, she can deal with a quickie divorce. It's not my problem.
"What now, Harper? Shall I find you a spare guestroom? I won't put you anywhere near Gabriel. You can have one next door to me if you prefer. It's up to you. I'll get you a T-shirt for a pyjama top. Sorry I can't do any better than that today, but we'll get you sorted first thing tomorrow." I know it isn't much, but it's the best I can do.
She towels herself off quietly. "I don't want to be on my own," she whispers. "Can I stay with you this evening?" Her dark brown eyes look up to me pleadingly, and something inside me shrivels and dies. How can she still trust me after all that has happened? If I were her I'd want to put as much distance as I could between us.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I say, frowning. "If we're sharing a bed together I won't be able to keep my hands off you. You've had enough men take advantage of you in your life, Harper. You deserve better. You deserve so much more than this." I don't wait for a response but walk over to my bedroom to get the T-shirt I mentioned. The woman needs to cover up and get in a room with a lockable door. Then she'll be safe. Or safe from me, at any rate.
She follows close on my heels, and just as I'm reaching my hand in the drawer to pull out the top her hand presses down on my shoulder. "I don't want you to keep your hands off me. If I only have a short time left on this earth, I want to make the most of it. I..." Her voice tails off. She doesn't know how to ask for what she wants, and let's be frank, it's not the easiest question to ask. Damn, there are so many things I should do right now.
Giving her some clothes would probably be a good start. Opening the door to show her to the guestroom would also be a good idea. Gently saying no to her request should be next on my list. We're both fucked-up enough already, without adding anything else to the mix. This isn't a good idea, which also means it's nearly impossible to resist.
I try to tackle the problem as carefully as I can. "I don't think we..."
"Please, Brandt. Don't push me away. All I'm asking for is one night. You can give me that. Hell, you owe me that after what you've put me through today. I won't come crying to you in the morning. I'll get out of your life and you'll never see me again. I just want one night. The one I've been imagining all these years and thought I'd never get. I know you've thought about it. Don't tell me you haven't."
Her voice sounds a little desperate as she pleads with me. Damned if it doesn't turn me on even more than I am already, and considering I've had my eyes on her naked body for most of the day, that's quite a lot. Although the sensible thing to do would be to push her away, I'm not sure I have that much willpower. I've imagined this night so many times in my head for the past five years, every fibre of my being is clamouring to take her up on her offer. I know it's wrong, and I know I shouldn't, but if I don't do this I suspect I will regret it for the rest of my life, and I don't think I'll be able to live with myself. If I were a sensible person I'd wait until Harper and I had gotten to know each other a little better and she felt a little more comfortable in my presence, but I haven't had sex with a woman in over five years. My hormones are clamouring for this, and it doesn't help that I've been half in love with her for years. I don't just want this, I need this, and I'm not strong enough to deny myself, even though I know I should.
"Are you sure?" Now I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I need reassurance here. Gabriel would laugh at me if he could see this, but I don't care. I want to do it right. I need to know she's thought it through.
She smiles at me, and it's a bright smile full of promise. For whatever reason it seems we're forgetting about our troubles. We're taking some time out and damned if we both don't deserve it.
A palm flattens gently above my waist, and I swear the heat coming through it burns. I want to run ten miles in the opposite direction to get away from this kind of intensity, and in the next moment I want to jump through the rings of fire in order to embrace it. Conflicting emotions chase and torment me, but I already know what I'm going to do.
"I'm sure. Please take me to bed, Brandt."
Harper's hand searches for mine, and I clutch it tightly. We're doing this. Tomorrow will be soon enough to hash out all our problems. Then I'll do my best to convince her that she doesn't have to leave. Gabriel and I are more than capable of taking care of her. If we can survive through the rigors of a high-security prison, taking on a drug dealer will be a piece of cake. If anyone can take him on, Gabriel can. He'll have some contacts.
Walking quietly to the bedroom, I open the door and turn on the light. I wince when I see there is still a pair of cuffs on the bedside table and cross my fingers that she won't notice them. Letting go of her hand for a second I reach to turn on the lamp. I want to see her skin cast in tones of amber and umber, and the soft
glow will be much kinder on the eyes. Turning off the main light I sit on the bed and pat the space beside me. She comes slowly, with an apprehensive look on her face. I think she's worried I'm about to change my mind. That's almost laughable. I wish I had that much willpower, but this is a done deal.
Sitting down on the bed, her featherlight weight barely making an impression, she turns to me and says, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen. I know there's no way you'll ever be able to forgive me, but I just wanted you to know that I never thought you'd go to jail. I thought your parents would pull some strings, hire you a hot-shot lawyer and get you off with a couple of months community service. If I'd known you'd serve five years in a high-security prison, I think I'd rather have died." The tears glistening in her eyes confirm that she's telling the truth and all I want to do is hug her, so I do.
"Shh. Don't cry. I've already forgiven you and for what it's worth, if I'd have been in your position I'd have done the same thing. You were out of options." I let my fingers curl in the hair at the nape of her neck. It's still damp from her bath, and smells heavenly.
"That doesn't make it right." Her voice chokes on the sentence, and she doesn't say anything further. She's been through too much. We all have. I don't know what will make it right, but I do know that if I ever get my hands on Mal Adley, he won't be breathing by the time I'm finished with him.
Using my hands in her hair, I pull it until her head twists sideways. I then lower my lips to her neck and feast upon it. I could drown in this body for days. It's all I've been thinking about for the past five years. I've never obsessed about another woman the way I have with Harper. Knowing I'm finally about to sink inside her is a high that's better than any drug I've ever known. When I gently bite the skin there, she makes these little mewling noises that have my cock almost exploding in my pants. Shit. I'm going to last sixty seconds inside her, if I'm lucky. Way to impress a girl, Brandt.
Beautiful Torture Page 22
