Chapter Ten

Brielle

My hands are trembling so hard I almost drop the wineglass I've pulled out of the cabinet, and I take a moment to lean against the counter and focus on my breathing. When I feel steadier, I pour myself some Moscato, then mentally prepare myself to return to what increasingly feels like an interrogation room instead of my living room.

Don't be like that. They are trying to help you.

"I know," I mutter under my breath. "I just don't see how reliving it all will help. He's seven states away."

Allen really does need this information. You can do this.

I take one last deep, cleansing breath, straighten my shoulders, and walk back into the living room.

"Take good notes, because I'm not going to tell this story ever again if I can help it," I snarl at Allen as I move to sit down as far from him as possible again.

Mari comes over to me and takes my hand.

"If we didn't truly believe this will help him keep you safe, then we wouldn't ask it of you," she tells me gently, sympathy in her eyes. "And I am right here with you."

"I know," I assure her, and squeeze her hand before I take a large drink of my wine and begin to share an overview of my past.

"My real name is Becka Morgan, and I'm originally from New York. Fifteen years ago, I was in a relationship. To say it was not healthy is an understatement, but it took me a while to see that. He was very, very charming and hid his true nature for a long time. Once I realized what he was, I tried to leave, but he came home early that day."

My voice falters as a surge of memories that will never fade come to the forefront and threaten to drown me. I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry, and feel Mari's other arm circling my shoulders.

I draw in a deep, shaky breath as she murmurs, "You're doing great, Bri. "

I nod, a single tear escaping custody and coursing down my cheek as I take another deep breath and keep going.

"I refuse to get into the details but suffice to say that I had to have multiple surgeries to correct what he did to me, including some reconstruction work on my face."

I pause, take another huge drink of wine, and open my eyes, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing.

"The trial had to wait until I was healthy enough to testify, and I was scared brainless, but I did it. My ex is currently serving a twenty-year sentence in a maximum-security facility as a result. I found out later that I was not the first woman that tried to leave him - only the first successful one. Two other women disappeared and have never been seen again, but there's never been enough solid evidence found for the authorities to charge him in those cases."

Another large drink empties my glass, and I set it down on the little end table to my left and continue my story.

"Once the trial was over, I wanted to get as far away from there as possible. The only family I had left was my aunt and she lived down here, so, I contacted her, and she took me in and helped me get back on my feet. I changed my name legally and started my new life and tried my best to put all that behind me."

I risk a look at Allen, noticing his hands first, and am shocked to see his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles are stark white. My gaze travels upward until it meets his, and the mix of empathy and rage I see there is making his blue-grey eyes almost glow.

I lean back and close my eyes, suddenly exhausted, and lapse into silence.

Allen

I have never wanted to rip another living thing apart with my bare hands - until now. The inhuman monster who terrorized Brielle deserves every single torture known to man and then some.

I watch her closely as I count down from two hundred in my head to try to calm myself before I speak. Her color is gone, her skin ghostly pale against her dark brown hair, and I witness her body go limp and loose with exhaustion from reliving what must have been the worst time of her life.

I fight the overwhelming urge to scoop her up in my arms and hold her close. Instead, I type a paragraph about what she just shared with me, and as I do, I decide.

I am not leaving her side until whoever is tormenting her is caught. Like it or not, Brielle Cerver is stuck with me twenty-four-seven until I know for sure that she is safe.

I am so much in my own head, plotting out arrangements, that I almost miss the question.

"Can you protect me?" she asks softly, almost a whisper. "Because I can't go through anything like that again."

I inject my feelings into my voice when I meet her gaze and answer her.

"You'll be safe with me. I promise."

She stares at me for several moments, then closes her eyes again.

"More wine?" Mari asks her, and Brielle nods.

The doorbell chime sounding startles us all, and it hurts my heart when Brielle jumps, then begins to shake.

"It's okay. It's probably Pete," I say, and head for the door.

My guess is correct. My IT specialist walks into the front foyer with two oversized equipment bags.

"You know what to do. I want this place wired up like it's Fort Knox," I tell him, and he grins.

"That's my specialty," he quips. "Where's the existing master panel?"

"Let's find out."

I lead him into the living room and introduce him to Brielle, Mari, and Detective Tucker. Brielle points down the hall in response to our question, and I walk with Pete to the master panel that is in the utility closet.

Pete glances at it and grimaces.

"What a piece of flea-market junk. Good thing I brought a full setup with me. I'm gonna replace this whole thing with something that will actually work."

"How long, you think?"

"If the wiring's decent, this should take two, maybe three hours, tops. And that includes the extra cameras installed."

"I'll leave you to it then."

By the time I return to the living room, Mari has refilled Brielle's wineglass and Detective Tucker is preparing to leave.

"I'll walk you out," I tell him, then say, "I'll be right back," to Mari and Brielle.

When Tucker and I get outside, he pauses.

"I looked up her case in New York," he says quietly. "With what he did to her, it's a miracle she lived, Allen."

"He still locked up?"

"That's the very first thing I checked. He got the maximum sentence of twenty years, no parole, so he will be locked up for seven more years. But I went ahead and set up an alert on his name anyway just in case some dumbass up there hits the wrong button in the computer system and accidentally lets him out."

"You read my mind. I planned on doing exactly that," I confide, but keep the rest of my thoughts concerning Brielle's ex private.

He ever sees the light of day again it won't be for very long. I will kill him myself.

Tucker shoots me a look that narrows my eyes.

"What?"

He chuckles. "If I didn't already think something's going on between you and Ms. Cerver, tonight would have clinched it, for sure."

The sound of Mari clearing her throat behind me stops my sending back a cutting remark.

"What happens now?" she asks in a tone that leaves no doubt that she heard what Tucker just said.

"I'm staying with her," I respond immediately. "Round the clock, until we find and stop whoever's messing with her."

Mari arches an eyebrow.

"She won't like that. Come morning, she'll have her 'I'm bulletproof' attitude back in place, and she'll fight you on it."

"She can try," I retort before I can stop myself.

Mari gives me an appraising look.

"Oh, I like you," she decides. "You're going to be good for her, I can tell."

"Okay, then," Tucker interjects, seeming suddenly uncomfortable. "I'm going to head out."

"Can I catch a ride home, Detective?" Mari asks.

"Sure."

"Great, just let me grab my purse and tell Bri I'm leaving," she says, and darts back inside.

I notice Tucker gazing after her.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with something going on, maybe," I murmur, and he growls at me.

"Shut up," he mutters under his breath, then smiles as Mari rejoins us.

"Ready when you are, Detective," Mari announces. "Mr. Jones, it was nice to meet you, and I know you'll keep her safe."

"I will."

I'll defend her with my life, if necessary, I vow silently.

Mari leans forward and whispers, "I can see there's something special between you two. Just go slow and be patient. Give her some time to come around to it."

I remain silent, not sure exactly what to say to that, and she winks at me and follows Tucker to his sedan.

I watch them pull out of Brielle's driveway, then walk back inside to find Brielle still perched in her chair, wineglass in hand, with her head leaned back and her eyes closed.

I pull the coffee table closer to her and sit on its edge in front of her.

"I know that telling me all that wasn't easy on you," I say gently. "And I'm so sorry you went through that."

"Thanks," she whispers, then echoes Mari's inquiry. "What happens now?"

"What happens now is, Pete's revamping your security system, and until whoever is harassing you is caught, you have a roommate."

She opens her eyes and raises her head to stare at me, her green eyes alight with irritation.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Until the threat to your safety is resolved, I am staying here."

"No."

"It's a notification, Brielle, not a request."

I stand, move the coffee table back to its original position, and head toward the front door.

"Where are you going? I thought you just said you were staying here?"

"And I am. But my ready bag is in the truck."

Her snidely muttered, "Great, just great," rings in my ears and I am unable to stifle a chuckle as I walk out to retrieve it.