Standing in the shower and searching for relaxation, Trey allowed hot water to rain over his body. Relentless thoughts plagued him. The absolute despair in Brittany’s eyes when he’d ended it between them. Her stony anger and hurt at the airport yesterday. Neither she nor Bryson had wanted him to come but he’d insisted. She’d hugged Bryson but didn’t spare Trey a glance. Not that he blamed her.
He grabbed the bar of soap, and rubbed it over his skin, imagining Brittany with him, her soft little fingers roaming over his body. Blood filled his loins and Trey groaned.
Brittany drove him insane. Absolutely fucking insane. She challenged him and teased him, trusted him and flirted with him. Her torment made him feel so helpless. He wanted to help her and he couldn’t.
After rinsing away the suds, Trey cut off the shower then wiped the water from his eyes with his hands. He wondered what she was doing and if she was pretending he didn’t exist as she tried to pretend her rape hadn’t happened.
Trey snatched a towel out of the closet and wrapped it around his hips, then he threw opened the door and went to his bedroom. He padded to his drawer where he kept old phone numbers.
“Yeah!” Trey grunted, satisfied he still had Stephanie Petersen’s.
Hoping her number hadn’t changed, Trey picked up his cell phone and dialed the faded digits scrawled on a piece of paper. She’d wanted Trey to give Bryson her phone number but Trey never had. He’d known about Bryson’s affair with Jamie. Passing Stephanie’s number to Bryson would’ve only complicated an already messy situation.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello.”
“Stephanie?” Trey began tentatively though he’d recognize her voice anywhere. It was soft and silky with the sweetest drawl he’d ever heard.
“Yes?”
“It’s Trey Wilson.”
A moment of silence passed then she squealed. “Brittany’s Trey?”
Laughter rumbled from him. He liked the thought of being labeled “Brittany’s Trey”. “One and the same, sweetheart.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine,” he answered. “How are you? How’s Jamie?”
More silence fell. “I’m fine,” she answered after a moment, some of her friendliness gone. “As for Jamie, I don’t know how she is. I haven’t seen her in years.”
It sounded as if she had no wish to see her little sister either. “I see.”
“I heard you were a big city police officer,” she began, ending whatever else Trey might have asked about Jamie.
“I sure am. Hey, Steph, I need to ask you about Brittany.”
“I heard she’s back. I haven’t seen her though.”
“She’s at her mother’s house. I’m sure she’s fine. I wasn’t calling about what’s going on with her now. I want to know about something that happened four years ago.”
“Well four years is a long time. I’ll see if I can remember, honey.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Trey walked to the window and peeked out through the blind. Another of Mother Nature’s teases—cloudy, overcast skies but not a drop of rain. Cool air hit his bare chest from the a/c vent and he absently scratched.
“How many times did you take Brittany to the hospital?”
“Oh well, of course I remember that. Only once.”
“What did she tell you?”
Another stretch of silence then in a low voice she asked, “Is this some type of police investigation? A Lieutenant Thomas already called me.”
Anger surged through Trey. Mitchell revealed only the barest of tidbits to Trey and he resented being left out.
“Trey?”
“Not officially, Steph. But Brittany—”
“Was raped,” she finished in a wobbly voice.
“Did she tell you?”
“No but I suspected and I pushed for documentation. And-and she consented because it was a Jane Doe Kit. She was given a code if she decided to change her story and go to the police. She asked me to keep copies, which I found strange because she refused to admit to anything else.”
“Did you talk to Brittany about it? Would you still have—?”
“Of course I did!” she interrupted with indignation. “The most I could get out of her was it happened on a Monday night and—” She hesitated.
“And?” Trey pressed, turning from the window and pacing. Monday night. He’d suspected as much. He and Bryson had gone to the football game. And Karl…? Rage brewed beneath the surface of Trey’s skin, his blood growing hot. He didn’t need a code. He already knew who did it just by Stephanie’s statement and he intended to fucking kill Karl.
“She was hoping Bryson would come home.”
Stephanie continued speaking after a long moment, during which Trey envisioned Karl’s torture.
“She was babbling, you know. As if she was in shock. You know how she got whenever she was nervous about something. Words just flowed from her. She mumbled something about if you’d watched the game with her. I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.”
A cold, hollow emptiness filled Trey. Brittany had been talking about what happened but he hadn’t been there for her. After he’d checked on her the morning after the game, she’d managed to evade his company for weeks. If he’d gotten to her then, while she’d been willing to talk, he might’ve heard the real story.
Precisely the reason she’d avoided him, he realized.
“Trey?”
“I’m still here, Stephanie,” Trey grumbled and gritted his teeth against his emotions. “Did she say who botched her deflowering?”
“In other words who attacked her?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to go around accusing innocent men. That’s the same thing I told Lieutenant Thomas.”
“I’m not calling as a police officer, Stephanie,” Trey said with a hint of desperation. Before he tortured and killed Karl, Trey had to be one hundred percent sure. A part of his brain—albeit a very small part—insisted Karl couldn’t be the animal Brittany described. “I’m calling as Brittany’s friend.”
“Her Trey.”
He detected the smile in her voice.
“You know she adored you.”
“I know, Steph,” he said gruffly. Until two days ago, Brittany had adored him.
“I always thought when she got older she would make her move on you.”
She had. “Really?”
“We all did.”
Stephanie wasn’t much older than Brittany. She must’ve been about twenty-two when Brittany was in her class so she would’ve connected with her students on a level an older teacher wouldn’t have.
“The general consensus was the moment she turned eighteen, she would find you and seduce you.” Stephanie giggled. “Brittany would smile her pretty smile and tell us she couldn’t make love to you unless you wanted her.”
He had. He still did.
Trey felt better Brittany hadn’t been the butt of jokes behind her back; then again, Brittany had been the ringleader in a lot of the escapades. She would’ve instigated the jokes and pranks. “It’s nice to know young ladies have such stimulating conversations,” he said dryly.
“Don’t be like that.” Stephanie laughed again. “It was quite stimulating.”
Trey barked a laugh.
“But I watched you with her. We all did. You and Bryson were hard not to notice.”
“You watched us, huh?”
“Brittany bullied the two of you something awful. Especially you. And well…” Her voice trailed off. “I was concerned she might lead you to do something really reckless.”
“Like making love to her?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I-I mean no offense.”
“None taken,” Trey responded, not sure how they’d gotten so far off track from his original conversation.
“But you know some of the guys didn’t like her being so smitten with you. And as Brittany’s Trey, not a police office, I know Evan Tyler wasn’t happy. He did most of the girls on my team, the little bastard. But Brittany always refused him. Then when Brittany kicked him in the balls, I thought he might retaliate in some way.”
“Brittany did what?” Trey dropped into his chair, the one she’d used to barricade herself inside his room. “Why the fuck—?”
“He was the quarterback.”
“I know who the fuck the little bastard is.”
“Yeah. Right. I’m sure. You kept track of who hung around her. You weren’t around her at school though. One evening after practice, she was walking out of the girl’s locker room and she said he was being rude. She got sick of his mouthing off so she, er, kicked him. You know Brit’s temper. I walked in just in time to see the kick and it was a doozy. His nuts must have swelled up to twice their normal size.” Stephanie laughed again. “Of course she promised to tell you. Not Bryson. You. We talked her out of it. We convinced her you would break Evan in two and she had taken care of him so she didn’t need you to do anything.”
“She should’ve told me,” he snapped. Too many assholes had known where Brittany lived. The Donovan house. Party fucking central. “So you think he went to the house and forced himself on her?”
“As I said I don’t want to accuse innocent young men. Evan was a violent little bastard. Always fighting, you know. Got kicked off the team twice.”
“Do you think he did it or not?”
He didn’t like her silence.
“Damn it, tell me. I can’t fucking find who the fuck hurt Brittany if no one will fucking tell me.”
“Calm down,” she said quietly. “Brittany said he made love to her. But he was violent enough to have caused all her injuries.”
Trey sucked in a breath.
“But,” Stephanie quickly added, “when I told her I was going to confront Evan, she was nearly hysterical. I didn’t push her anymore but I knew she wasn’t telling me the real story. Anyway, she wanted you to be her first lover so, you know, it was hard to believe she changed her mind and decided to sleep with that little peckerhead.”
Back to square one. “In other words you don’t know—”
“I…it…I don’t have any answers.”
“Tell me, Stephanie,” he commanded in a low pitch, his skills of seduction kicking in. “It won’t go any farther than you and I, baby.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive, sweetheart. Now appease my need. Tell me what I want to hear.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Remember the dude, Joyous?”
“With a fucked up name like that how could I forget him? Joyous Sweeney.”
“Both Brittany and J-Jamie were afraid of him.”
Something else she hadn’t told him. “Why?”
“You know it was a helluva mix having all those gorgeous young girls around oversexed young men. Although some of the boys from her classes hung out at your crib, those young beauties were around you and Bryson and your friends.”
“Get to the point, Stephanie. I don’t need an entire backstory. I know what the hell went on.”
“Er, Joyous exposed himself to my sister and Brittany. They were putting makeup on to go to the mall. Y’all were up front and he broke away and showed them his hard prick. Brittany tripped him, grabbed Jamie’s hand and jetted.”
Trey was tiring of the conversation. He wondered how many different stories like this he would hear. Always with the same result. Brittany not telling him about it.
“Anyone else?”
“I-I’m sorry, Tr-trey.” She fell silent, cleared her throat then went quiet again.
She was hiding something from him. But he’d call her back at another time. “It’s been so nice talking to you. Do me a favor, love. Keep an eye on Brittany.”
“I sure will. Um…”
Her voice trailed off and Trey tensed, expecting her to reveal the information he wanted. “Yes?”
“I’ve done the best I can to look after her. Ms. Donovan was at my momma’s house one day and we started talking about Brittany. Ms. D mentioned Brittany whining—her mom’s words, not mine—to Bryson about the girl she roomed with. So I pulled a few strings, called my home girl, Karen Anders. I don’t know if Brittany’s distant attitude turned the other girl off, if she was jealous of Brittany’s beauty or if she was just a bitch. Whatever it was, Brittany didn’t need any more to deal with.”
“I owe you, Stephanie.”
“You know Brit is my girl, dude. I couldn’t leave her hanging. I keep watch over her now too and I’ll tell her you—“
“No! No I’m the last person she wants to hear from.”
“Well Ms. Donovan called to check on things and she said Brittany was getting her groove on with you in Bryson’s crib and then she just left and decided to come home for the summer.”
“That’s not what fucking happened, Stephanie, and this crib is mine too. I pay half the fucking rent.”
“So you and Brit didn’t have an affair?”
“Goodbye, Stephanie,” Trey gritted.
“C’mon, Trey. Ms. D is going around telling that story. At least I’ll be able to defend Brittany if it’s not the truth.”
“I sent her home. I did what I thought was best for her and—”
“Well did you ask her what she thought was best?”
“I couldn’t protect her four years ago so I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect her now.”
“Even push her away? I mean unless you weren’t that into her. Then I can understand but—”
“Stephanie, fuck. Brit is very fragile and I-I can’t help her. She drives me crazy.”
“Yeah she always did give you a run for your money. But if she’s so fragile, you pushing her away can’t have helped her state of mind.”
“Stephanie—”
“Forget my words. Don’t worry. I’ll keep watch over her.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“No prob. I’ll do what I can to help. See you around.”
“Wait, Steph!”
“Trey?”
“Would you keep me posted about Brittany?”
“Sure thing, dude.”