It was official. Brittany had lost her mind. Horrifying memories mired down one part of her consciousness while the other side fought to overcome. And the final part, the biggest one, was looking to the future, determined to win Trey, sure everything else would fall into place.
Pacing, she bided her time until Trey returned to his bedroom. His bedclothes were a rumpled mess and heat rushed through her body. Making love to him should’ve been the last thing on her mind. One peep in the mirror attached to his bureau underscored the reasons why. She’d massacred her hair, convinced she hated her hair when, in reality, she hated all it represented.
Now it was gone but unless she developed amnesia, nothing would erase her memories. Not cutting her hair. Not sleeping in closets. And not pretending she wasn’t in love with Trey.
But Trey had women, a lot of women, and he seemed content to go from one to the next, depending on which day of the week it was. She could give him credit for not blatantly accepting Elsie’s invitation but he’d stood at the door with her for so long. She couldn’t hear a word they were saying to one another so she imagined Trey was setting up another assignation. Where Sylvia had been curvy and very pretty, like a statuesque sex symbol, Elsie was hard and muscled and could’ve won the title for Mister America. What the women had in common was height and long hair.
Until a couple of hours ago, Brittany, at least, had the latter if not the former. Now she had neither.
But height or hair didn’t matter. Only she and Trey mattered and she wasn’t sure if she was too damaged to be in a relationship.
Not that Trey had ever indicated he’d be willing to commit to her. He’d sworn never to commit to anyone, unable to overcome his own past hurts. They needed to talk about where they stood. Maybe he didn’t even want to make love to her again.
After dressing and mourning the loss of her hair, she’d come out of the room where she was supposed to sleep, expecting to start a dialogue with Trey. Instead Elsie had been walking in, hugging Trey and whispering in his ear. Brittany hadn’t even paid attention to Trey’s reaction because Bryson, the big lug head, had looked so vindicated. He knew Trey had a bunch of women and knew she’d never tolerate that.
Now, dropping into the chair beside the bed, she thought about calling her mother.
But what could she say to Cora? After the rape, Brittany’d resented her mother as never before. Somewhere deep in her heart, she blamed her momma for some of her woes. Always working and never stopping long enough to even consider what Brittany did or didn’t need. When her father had run off, Brittany understood Cora had faced losing their house if she didn’t find a way to make ends meet. But she’d dumped the housework, the cooking, the laundry and everything else in Brittany’s lap. Days went by when she wouldn’t even see her mother.
At first, Brittany had been frightened of having to ride the school bus to and from school and even more frightened of having to be home alone, but Trey had stepped in, being her friend. Becoming her everything. Her attraction to him had come gradually if prematurely. Bryson did his part by getting an afterschool job, and on the weekends, they’d go grocery shopping. Usually Trey was with them and once the shopping was completed, Trey and Bryson spent the duration of their Saturdays chasing girls, lifting weights or inviting friends—who had motorcycles and alcohol and girlie magazines—over to the house.
With no parental supervision, Bryson’s friends loved to hang out there. It was almost as if Cora had moved out the day her husband left. That first year after the desertion, Brittany’s grades had slipped. She doubted her mother had even noticed. But Bryson and Trey had sat her down and explained she must do better because nothing was more important than school.
She’d believed them but the long chore list her mother left for her indicated otherwise. In an effort to please everyone, she’d adapted and learned to maintain her grades, keep house and cook. Within a couple of years, she’d even taken enough care with her time that she could join the cheerleading squad. She was popular, well liked, and the captain of the team. Despite the Donovan house being a haven for high-school girls and boys and college students, Brittany was the cook, the straight-A student and the nucleus of all the fun and mischief.
She doubted her mother knew anything about those times. How then could Brittany expect Cora’s counsel now?
Bitter laughter escaped Brittany. Her mother wouldn’t have time anyway. Two years ago, Cora had begun to foster five children, offering them what she hadn’t offered Brittany—the comfort and guidance of a mother.
No…whatever Brittany faced she couldn’t turn to her mother for comfort. With a sigh, she fingered her hair. She wondered if Trey had left with Elsie after all since he hadn’t yet made an appearance.
She had no right to feel betrayed. She’d expected him to pretend their lovemaking didn’t matter. But his reaction still hurt. He’d been so sweet the past two days. Heck, for her entire life. When Bryson was being an idiot, Trey was there. When she felt overwhelmed, Trey was there.
She could’ve called on him anytime and he would’ve come running. After graduating from high school however, she’d wanted to get as far away from all of them as she could. The burden of her secret weighed on her and she often imagined telling Trey what Karl had done to her and Trey beating Karl to a bloody pulp. Other times, the scenario was different. She’d tell Trey and he’d be angry at her, accusing her of getting what she deserved. He’d side with his cousin and he’d break all ties with both her and Bryson. Then Bryson would be hurt as well at the loss of Trey’s friendship.
Given all at stake, what right did she have to act as she had with Elsie? To feel any jealousy? No feelings were involved on his part.
And nowNow she’d also have to deal with Bryson, answer his questions regarding what had possessed her to cut off her hair. Worse, she’d made it quite clear she and Trey had made love. To be fair, Elsie had thrown down the gauntlet. Stewing in jealousy and resentment, Brittany had picked it up.
“Brittany!”
Her brother really needed to learn some manners.
“Where are you, Brit?” he called again. “I have a surprise for you.”
I’ll just bet you do, she thought bitterly. Probably another one of Trey’s women to flaunt so he could reiterate Trey’s disinterest in a relationship.
“Come on, girl! Come see who’s here.”
Well at least their surprise guest would delay the questions and threats Bryson no doubt had.
“Brittany!”
“I’m coming,” she yelled back, stomping to the bedroom door and yanking it open. She marched down the little hallway and almost sagged with relief when she saw Trey.
Happiness swept away everything else and she smiled as she entered the living room. Her brother was framed in the archway between the kitchen, grinning. Trey’s laughter reached her too. Her gaze slid to the man standing next to Bryson.
She staggered back.
Karl.
Karl was there. She stared in mute horror, flattening her palm against the wall for support.
She’d deceived everyone for four years; doing so had become second nature to her. But now that she’d begun to reconnect with her feelings and come to terms with what had happened, she had to remind herself to school her features into some light-hearted emotion.
If she didn’t pull herself together, Trey would know who’d raped her. But suddenly Karl was striding toward her, blocking Trey’s and Bryson’s view of her. Then he was there, in front of her, touching her.
She swayed, her heart pounding in her ears as he swept her into his arms and off her feet, putting his lips on her cheek.
“I have a gun strapped to my side,” he breathed against her ear, setting her down then taking her hand and pulling her forward. “If you don’t want a hole in Trey’s head and one in Bryson’s heart, you’ll smile and show how happy you are to see me.”
She tried to tug her hand free but he tightened his grip and she stumbled behind him.
“You’re looking gorgeous as usual.” He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, his voice warm with welcome. He tightened his arm around her. “Bryson warned me you’d cut off your hair. Just today as a matter of fact.”
“Aren’t you going to say something, Brit?” Bryson’s smug excitement at his surprise was hard to miss.
Trey studied her, his eyes narrowing, probing the depths of her heart and soul, the places only he could see. His lips thinned as his gaze fell to where Karl rested his hand just below her breast.
“Baby girl?”
She could pretend Karl wasn’t a violent pig. She could.
Clutching her skirt, she allowed Karl to guide her to the sofa, allowed him to sit next to her, his thigh brushing against hers. She swallowed, found her voice.
“What are you doing here?”
Karl’s smile widened. He opened his jacket, showing her the holstered gun with disgusting casualness. “Bryson called me.” A suggestive smile curved his lips and he laughed.
Brittany’s head swam. At any moment, she was going to vomit. She rose to her feet, the fury and jealousy—the dawning knowledge—in Trey’s features nerve wracking. She dropped into the chair she’d been in earlier.
“Yeah, Brit. I thought it would be a good idea if Karl showed you around town. That way you wouldn’t have to go to the precinct with Trey. You’ll have an old friend to take care of you.”
“Indeed she does,” Karl teased, his wink seemingly harmless. “As I mentioned to Bryson I’m being honored tonight, but we wouldn’t be long. We could attend the function then hang out at my place for a little while.”
Trey dragged his gaze from her to glower at his cousin. Whatever goodwill and humor he’d had when she first appeared had vanished. “That’s not a good idea, Karl.”
“I think it is an excellent idea,” Bryson retorted, scowling at Trey. “Karl is available in ways you aren’t—”
“I think Trey’s right.” Brittany’s voice was dead and distant.
Karl lifted his brow. “You got a man or something?”
Bryson chose to answer. “If she does, it isn’t serious.”
“So do you have a boyfriend?” Karl’s smirk deepened. “I’m crushed.”
A tremble passed through her.
“Where does he live?” he went on. “Do we know him? We wouldn’t want you getting involved with a bad sort.” He indicated his gun. “Although Trey and Bryson are the experts at catching the bad guys, I’m a licensed gun owner. I can hit a target three hundred yards away. So tell us who the fellow is and we can check him out.”
Karl was a madman. His words were taunts Bryson and Trey hadn’t caught him, and a veiled reminder of his earlier promise.
“Put your mind at ease.” Trey stretched his long legs out in front of him and folded his arms. He looked furious. “You’re a damn good shot, true. But you don’t have to worry about the man in her life.”
“Is that so, cuz?” Karl flashed a pearly white smile. “I take it you’ve already ran a full background check on the guy. Do tell.”
“Yes, do.” Bryson bristled with hostility. “I want to know.”
“Shut your damn mouth,” Trey snapped.
“Who’s her boyfriend?” Bryson persisted.
An awful and tense silence settled into the room. She was trying to supply a name for Bryson when Karl spoke again.
“Well, cuz? Who is he? Do we know him?”
“You know him damn well, Karl.” Trey growled. “Because it’s me. I’m her boyfriend.”