Chapter Twenty-Three
She woke up to a gentle rapping on the door, a persistent but firm noise.
“Miss Ally?” Edgar’s whisper had her snatching up the sheets, holding them in front of her as a shield.
The door opened a crack. “Miss Ally. I hate to bother you, but you left your phone out here last night. It rang and I answered it. Miss Lyon notified me she’ll be arriving within the hour with Vincent. I figured I’d let you know so you can prepare for his return.”
“Thank you, Edgar.” She scratched the back of her neck, noticing she was alone in the bed. “Have you fixed up his room?”
“Yes, as usual.” He cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of ordering up a light breakfast with coffee—mostly pastries and the like. It’s out here in the suite. I also placed all of Trey’s items out here in the shared room, as he requested.” He paused. “Including his clothing, within easy reach of the door.”
She grinned, pushing past a momentary embarrassment. “Great. Go downstairs to the hotel restaurant and get yourself some breakfast. I’d like you to meet Jessie in the lobby, help her bring Vincent up here without him causing a public scene.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll wait for her there.”
The door closed with a soft click, leaving her alone.
She laid back on the pillows, frowning.
Where had Trey gone? If he wasn’t out in the main room…
The bathroom door opened, and he appeared, a towel around his waist. His hair was damp, the upper half of his body glistening.
She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back the naughty thoughts creeping into her mind.
Epic. Fail.
He frowned as he stared at her, taking in her expression. “What? Were you worried I’d skip out on you?”
“It had occurred to me.” She levered herself up on her elbows and looked him over without shame or guilt, studying the scars and well-toned muscles she’d memorized by touch last night.
“Figured I’d freshen up a bit, since I don’t have a room anymore.” He smiled. “It was also easier than trying to creep around Edgar.”
“Your stuff is outside the door. Edgar was just here. Didn’t sound too shocked.”
“I should hope not. Big boy like him, I doubt seeing us in bed would be much of a shock.”
He went to the door and opened it as she watched.
“I sent Edgar downstairs for breakfast, give him a bit of a break—we’ve got some coffee and pastries already in the lounge for the two of us. Told him to meet Jessie in the lobby and help her with Vincent.”
“Good idea.” Trey rolled in the tray of food along with his duffel bag. “No offense, but I’m not keen on using your hairbrush.”
“No problem.”
“Jessie’s on her way in ?”
“Yes. Within the hour, according to the message she left with Edgar.” She sighed and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “Which means I’ve got to get ready to see Vincent.” She rolled her head around, hearing the snap and pop. “Time to come back to reality.”
Trey sat beside her, the towel straining to stay intact. He took her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what he’s going to put you through. I know I’ve said it before, but you need to put your foot down with him…” Trey trailed off as he shook his head. “You know it.”
“I do.” She dropped the sheets and leaned against him, her head in the crook of his shoulder. “I need to shower. Can we talk when I’m finished?”
“Sure.” He kissed her. “I’ll be here. Promise.”
She stood up, giving him a full view of her naked form before going to the bathroom.
“Tease,” he called out as she pushed the door halfway shut.
…
A few minutes later, Trey sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. His previous good mood at seeing Ally was gone, replaced with the cold hard facts pushing away the night’s enjoyment.
Where do I go from here?
Where do we go from here, he corrected. In the harsh light of day, the reality of their situation hit home hard.
He pulled the towel off, reaching for his duffel bag.
He didn’t have the answers, but he wouldn’t find them buck naked.
By the time he had dressed in a light blue T-shirt and jeans and helped himself to a coffee and donut, Ally was finished with her shower, emerging to get dressed. It was hard to keep his hands off of her as she pulled on a yellow blouse and jeans.
“Do that much more, and you won’t be getting out of here until noon,” he finally growled.
“Spoilsport.” She turned and faced him, hands on her hips. Her expression changed, her lips pulled into a straight line as she watched him. “Just remember your promise not to hurt him. He might be a jerk, but he’s family. Anything he’s done, we can deal with.”
No, his inner voice roared, No you can’t. You can’t fix this.
“I have to see him. I need to be sure.” The niggling kernel of doubt in his belly twisted and turned, ripping him up inside. Part of him hoped Vincent wasn’t the right man, and part of him wanted closure and confession, a positive identification of the monster who had run him and Nick down.
Even if it meant breaking Ally’s heart.
She moved closer and took his hands. Her eyes met his and he struggled to find the words for the emotions warring inside him.
Before he could say anything, the door in the other room flew open with a crash, the grunts and groans mixed with muffled yells announcing Vincent’s arrival.
“Right.” She released his hands. “Let’s do this.”
The invisible wall went up between them as she tucked her hands behind her back and stood tall, waiting.
Trey went to the door and opened it, letting them into the common area.
Vincent stood in the middle of the room, growling and snarling through a cloth gag. He was handcuffed, his hands tight behind his back. Edgar stood behind him, keeping a firm grip on the cuffs.
His expensive suit was torn at the joints, a series of mysterious stains giving off a stink Trey couldn’t identify. His dark shoulder-length hair was loose and he struggled against the bonds, glaring in turn at everyone in the room.
Including Jessie. She stood beside him, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. Trey saw a hint of bruising on her face but dared not ask about it or move in closer to check.
Trey looked at Edgar, saw the tightening in the ex-Marine’s jaw. He wasn’t pleased about the bruise, and neither was Trey. They’d been raised to respect women—it was obvious Vincent didn’t have the same restriction.
He resisted the urge to step forward and balance the scales. It wasn’t the time or place, but he’d remember—and so would Dylan, once he saw Jessie’s face.
The Brotherhood always paid their debts. And they owed Vincent for this.
Trey eyed Vincent, trying to ignore the screaming in his mind.
It took effort to draw out the memories and blot out the pain, to stay still when all he wanted to do was move, to do anything other than stand and watch.
“I’m so sorry.” Ally moved closer to Vincent, flinching as he tried to yell something through the cloth. “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Jessie said. “But he’s still a bit drunk and a whole lot of grumpy after six hours handcuffed in the backseat.” She wrinkled her nose. “You may want to hose him down and burn his clothing. Lord knows I’m going to need Patrick to detail the hell out of my car to get that stink out.”
Ally nodded at Edgar, who stepped forward and tugged the gag free.
It was like pulling the nuzzle off a mad dog. Vincent rolled his head from side to side, glaring at each of them in turn.
Trey didn’t flinch from the bullying stare, standing his ground. So did Edgar, although he raised an eyebrow in admonishment, his grip tight on the cuffs holding Vincent in place.
Ally let out an angry snort, returning Vincent’s angry look with twice the intensity. She crossed her arms in front of her, her spine ramrod straight.
“Asshole,” she said in a clear, angry voice.
Trey almost smiled. Vincent might have underestimated how far he could push her this time.
“I can’t…” Vincent sputtered, drool running down his chin. “You… can’t…” He swallowed hard before letting out a deep, rolling belch, the noxious fumes almost knocking them off their feet.
“He’s all yours. I’m done.” Jessie gave Edgar the handcuff key. “Keep them. I’ll put the cost on the final bill.” She nodded at Trey. “Don’t forget to call home. I’ll update Dylan.” One hand brushed the bruise on her cheek. “On everything. Vinnie’s got a matching one on his shin where I ‘accidentally’ kicked him on the way to the car. Would have aimed higher, but I was in a rush.” She caught Ally’s eye. “Shit happens.”
Edgar yanked on the cuffs, bringing a curse from Vincent.
“Thank you.” Ally turned to Jessie as Edgar worked the handcuffs. “Please send the bill when you get back to the office.”
“I will.” Jessie waved as she reached the door. “It’ll be in your mailbox within the day. If you have any issues with any of the charges, call me, and we can discuss it. I’ll send along scans of the receipts for parking and so forth.”
“Don’t you…” Vincent snarled, twisting around to stare at Jessie. “I want her arrested. I want her ass behind bars.”
“Get in line.” Jessie blew him a kiss. “His wallet’s taped to the small of his back, along with the cash I managed to keep him from gambling away. I used duct tape—it might leave a mark when you tear it off.” She touched her temple in a light salute. “Thank you for using Lyon Investigations.”
As the door closed, the handcuffs fell away. Edgar pocketed them and stepped around to face Vincent.
Vincent shook his head, rubbing his wrists. “What a bitch.” He shot an angry glare at the closed door. “Go ahead and run,” he shouted. “I’d knock you on your ass if I didn’t have a hell of a headache.” He pressed both hands to his temples. “God, who’s yelling so loudly?”
“You are.” Trey frowned and stepped forward. “And you might want to cut back on the insults.” It was hard to stay neutral, the urge to punch him for his comments about Jessie almost overwhelming.
The dark-haired man coughed. “Eddie, I’m hungry as hell. Can I get some food before you start in on me?”
“It can be arranged.” Edgar gestured at Trey. “But this man here wants to talk to you first.”
“Fuck. Give me something to drink first.” Vincent stumbled over to the couch and collapsed onto the cushions, covering his eyes. “Goddamn woman didn’t even stop so I could take a pee. I showed her, pissed all over her backseat.” He peered through his fingers at Ally. “You hired her? What was the rush? I was going to come back in time for the presentation.” His face went pale. “You pay off the guy I sent over? Sorry ’bout that. As soon as my luck changed, I was gonna go take care of it. But it’s all okay, right?” He moaned. “I’m so damned thirsty.”
Trey let out a whistle, bringing Vincent around. “You don’t remember me.”
Vincent stared at him, frowning. “What? Who the hell are you?” His attention went to his sister. “You went and got yourself a man? Didn’t think you had it in you, sis. Mom and Dad will be glad to find out you’re not gay.” He eyed Trey. “I guess.”
Edgar handed over a water bottle, holding out two aspirin.
Vincent swallowed them along with half the bottle while still keeping his eyes on Ally.
He let out a vile-smelling burp. “Damn it, I got some bad tacos.” He waved the bottle at Trey. “Is this guy one of those rentals? Got him from the downstairs bar, charges by the hour?” He chortled. “Don’t worry—what happens in Vegas stays here. I won’t tell anyone you had to pay for it.”
Ally stood there, her face turning scarlet.
“Don’t look at her. Look at me.” Trey grabbed the lapels of the suit jacket and pulled him to his feet.
Edgar crossed his arms, saying nothing.
Trey spun Vincent around then yanked the jacket off his shoulders, taking short breaths to avoid breathing in too much of the stink.
“Hey!” Vincent yelled as he struggled to stay upright. He glared at Edgar. “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me from crap like this?”
Edgar shrugged. “He’s helping you off with your jacket. Looks fine to me.”
“Show me your left arm.” Trey forced his voice to be as neutral as possible. “Pull your shirt sleeve back and show me your left arm.”
“Excuse me?” The man scratched his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?” He pointed at Ally. “I don’t know what sort of kinky game you got going with this jerk, but I’m done with this. Throw him the hell out.”
“Vincent.” Ally stepped up. “Please do what he says.” Her tone firmed up, the underlying steel surprising Trey. “Either you do it, or Edgar does. Your choice.”
Vincent shook his head, grabbing at one ear as his long, greasy hair flopped back and forth over his eyes. “Hell. Go away for a week and you grow a pair of balls.”
Edgar took a step forward, and Vincent waved him off. He tugged at his sleeve and drew back the stained shirt. “Here. Didn’t know you were a tattoo freak.”
His voice shifted, the slurred words now crisp and clear.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Trey. The burning in his belly increased tenfold, the fire threatening to blind him in a wild rage.
He forced himself to focus. He stared at the port wine birthmark which had been transformed into a beautiful rose. The black and red vines crept over his forearm, altering the natural lines of the mark.
There’s no way my program could have found it. The tattoo was perfectly placed, the artist managing to incorporate the birthmark into a thing of beauty.
It was a cold relief.
He stared at Vincent’s face, calling up the nightmare from the darkness. The coffee turned sour in his belly, roiling and threatening to erupt.
The same eyes.
He saw Ally in there, but only as a dark, warped version.
“You were in New York City five years ago.” It was hard to speak slowly, picking the right words.
Vincent shrugged, pulling the sleeve down. “Probably. I live there, work there.” A sneer appeared. “What, I walked by and forgot to drop a coin into your cup?”
Trey swallowed hard. “July fifth. Late at night. You left the Flying High nightclub around two in the morning, picking your car up from the valet and got behind the wheel, even though you were drunk. You raced down a street, driving with the window open and your arm hanging out, flailing around to some loud rock music. You swerved up onto the sidewalk and took out a mailbox before hitting a soldier.” It was hard to get the words out, but he forced them, forced it for Nick. “He died two weeks later after a long, horrible hospital stay. You shattered him into pieces, shattered a man who had gone through combat and came out whole when a hell of a lot of his buddies hadn’t. A man who was going home to his parents, who figured he was safe on the sidewalks of New York City.”
Vincent stared at him for a long second before letting out a low chuckle. “No one’s ever safe on the street.”
“Do you remember that?” Trey ground his teeth together.
Ally moved next to Edgar, her eyes wide with horror.
“Do you?” Trey asked again, fighting to keep his voice below a yell.
Vincent waved him away. “I have no idea who you are, and I don’t care. Screw you. Hell, I don’t have to talk to you. You’re not a damned cop, just some jerk my sister decided to fuck.” He gave a thick burp, coughing at the taste. “Come on, Eddie. I’m tired and hungry and don’t have the time to deal with this shit.”
He turned his back on Trey and staggered toward the door leading to his suite.
“Don’t you dare let him out of here,” Trey ordered Edgar.
Edgar eyed Trey for a second before stepping in front of Vincent, blocking his escape.
The bleary-eyed man looked at Edgar. “Really, Eddie? What’s up with this shit? You forget who pays your salary?”
“Mr. Pierce has been very helpful while you were gone,” Edgar said. He crossed his arms in front of him. “The least you can do is answer a few questions. Then we’ll put you into a hot shower, get you cleaned up, and you can go to sleep.”
Vincent stood there for a long moment.
He turned and faced Trey. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
A few steps took Trey to his duffel bag. He ripped out the aged folder, the frayed edges barely keeping the pages inside. He returned to the standoff where Edgar and Ally stood in front of a red-faced Vincent.
He pulled out a picture of Nick in dress uniform and held it up, forcing his hand to stay steady. “Look at him. You would have hit me, but Nick pushed me out of the way, shoved me to the side. You left without even slowing down, without stopping to see what you’d done. Without even calling 911.”
Vincent glanced at the image, his cool stare giving no indication it registered. “I don’t remember seeing him. Or you. So as far as I’m concerned, it never happened, unless you’ve got some real proof.” He turned to Edgar. “I’m done here.”
Trey grabbed his arm, pulling on the stained shirt. “I’m not. Do you remember?”
“What do you think?” Vincent snapped back.
Trey held up Nick’s photograph again. “This man. You came right at us, you ran over him and raced off.” He was shouting now, unable to keep his voice down. “You didn’t stop. You didn’t give a damn.”
Ally wrapped her arms around herself, biting her bottom lip.
Edgar’s eyes narrowed as he studied Vincent. The cool bodyguard was gone now, the seasoned veteran watching both men intently.
Trey continued, unable and unwilling to stop.
“You dumped the car and went overseas, your parents keeping you out of the country long enough for the case to go cold. Then you came back with a handler, a man assigned to keep you out of trouble.” He didn’t look at Edgar, knowing his words would hit home.
“But you knew you’d killed someone, right? You must have known you did something wrong when you sobered up and found your car smashed. Your parents did, too, hiding the evidence and snatching you up to go to Europe. Hell, you got the damned tattoos so no one could recognize you by your birthmark. Sure as hell shows you were awake and aware to me.” Trey shook the pictures. “Tell me!”
Vincent brushed them aside with a swipe of his hand. “I got a tattoo because I didn’t want people staring at my arm. Horrible birthmark, and I figured adding some cool swirls would make the ladies like it. And I went overseas because I wanted some fresh air, a chance to party with some new friends.” Vincent gave a snort. “You’re asking me what I did five years ago in New York City?” The hoarse laugh bounced off the walls. “I drank, and I partied, and I passed out a hell of a lot. I don’t remember.” He threw off Trey’s arm and stomped over to Edgar, glaring at the man. “I’m done here.”
Edgar looked at Trey for a second before dropping his gaze. He stepped aside and opened the door, following Vincent as the businessman stumbled through to his suite.