Page 41 of Clubs

I was just angry. I didn’t want Brooke to think I was done with her, as I was sure that was the reason for the face she’d given me a moment prior. Afraid that her crazy family would be my last straw. That it was over now.

Her family was a shit show. I had known so days into our meeting. It wasn’t Brooke’s fault Ria was an addict, caught up in whatever the hell all this was. Honestly, given the way they’d grown up, I couldn’t even say it was Ria’s fault.

I didn’t know that yet. I didn’t have the full story, and I needed it before I did or said anything else.

But regardless of what I learned, Brooke wouldn’t be the one I blamed.

I took her hands and pulled them around my waist. “Stay close, alright?” I said, softening my tone.

All she did was nod against my back.

Turning over the engine, flicking up the kickstand, with her body so close to mine now, I was certain of that look. The scent of fear—cortisol mixed with adrenaline—filled my nose.

I wanted to tell her she didn’t have anything to be afraid of. But since we were heading to see a cop that she’d have to lie to about all this? Yeah, there was definitely something to fear.

* * *

Just as Emory said he’d be, Tyler stood against his black cruiser when we rolled in on the bike. Suit and tie finely pressed, neat hair was slicked back from his face. Even though he smiled, it was strained. Quite literally, like he had a stick up his ass. That phrase never made much sense to me, but now, looking at Tyler, that was the only way to describe that smile. Like he had a stick shoved up his ass and hated how much he liked it.

No sooner than Brooke had dismounted did the interrogation begin. “You must be Brooke,” he said, walking closer. “Sorry I missed you yesterday.”

“Yeah, he was too busy harassing me.” I made no effort to say so subtly.

“Aw, baby, be nice.” Running a hand down my chest, Brooke’s entire demeanor changed.

Her usual fast, blunt words fell from her lips smoother than silk. That little white sundress she’d thrown on this morning, the one I’d seen as sexier than sin on her just after she’d begged and whimpered for me to lick her pussy, only to torture a man half to death, suddenly looked so dainty. Even the way she held herself had changed. While she typically stood firm, strong, all of her limbs were looser now. Delicate. I’d never put “Brooke” and “delicate” in the same sentence, but that was the only word I could use for her now. The octave of her voice even heightened. Like she was doing everything in her power to appear as a different person. No denying the work she put in to dip her chest, too, when she extended her hand. She had to crouch to reach the son of a bitch, but she somehow managed to show off every inch of cleavage when she did.

“He’s just doing his job. Isn’t that right, Detective…?”

“Tyler.” Bastard let his gaze linger there for far too long. If the situation were any different, I’d run my mouth about it. But this was Brooke’s plan evidently. Seduce the guy into leaving us alone. “Detective Grant Tyler.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She giggled. Brooke could giggle? Why the fuck had she never laughed like that for me before? “Emory said so when he called, but it completely slipped my mind.”

“Happy to meet you.” Still shaking her hand, still eyeing her tits, Tyler stayed silent for a few heartbeats. It was only when I cleared my throat that he met her gaze. “Well, I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Oh, of course.” One of her hands found my arm, but with the other, Brooke fingered the necklace that hung just above her breasts. And yes, I said fingered because it was beyond intentionally drawing his attention back there. She traced her fingers over her cleavage softly. It was subtle enough that it didn’t look like a porno, like she was holding her hand over her heart in shock, but I could see what she was doing. “We were so devastated to hear about Alicia. Whoever did this orphaned two kids under three, did you know that? Just horrible.”

Sociopath. My girlfriend was a fucking sociopath.

“Yeah,” Tyler said, his gaze shifting to me. “Whoever did this is a damn monster.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I dropped my jacket onto the back of my bike. “I told you a thousand times. I never met the girl. I sure as shit didn’t kill her.”

“Oh, God, no.” Clenching my bicep, Brooke’s eyes grew softer than I’d yet seen them. “He couldn’t have, sir. He was with me all night.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said.” Tyler eyed me up and down for a moment before turning back to Brooke. “You willing to put that in writing?”

“Oh, of course.” Tracing her fingers up and down my arm, her voice remained soft. “Really, he was with me every moment. He went to the bathroom once or twice, but he never left the bar. There’s no way he would’ve had time to hurt anyone. Well, I think anyway. Do you know what time it was when Alicia… Well, you know.” Innocent. Her voice, her demeanor, everything about her was so innocent all of a sudden. “Has the—Oh, gosh, what’s the name? Colander? You know, that doctor who takes care of people once they’ve passed.”

“Coroner?” Tyler asked.

Not only was she playing the sweet and innocent girl, but the clueless one too. Brooke was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. The girl practically studied the Oxford Dictionary.

“Right. That’s it. The coroner.” She chuckled, tapping herself on the head. “Has the coroner figured out what time she passed? They can do that, can’t they? I think I saw that on TV before.”

“Yes, sweetheart, they can,” Tyler said.

I had to lock up all my limbs to keep from shifting. Nobody called her sweetheart but me.

---