Page 109 of Back in Black

She was standing at the outskirts of the main room, working up her courage and conviction, when a big, handsome man stepped in front of her. After blinking fast, Audrey recognized him as the fighter Havoc Conor.

He tilted his head to study her with an unreadable expression, making note of her rumpled appearance. “You’re Audrey Porter, aren’t you?”

Her nervousness grew, but she wouldn’t be driven away before seeing Brett. She nodded. “Yes.”

He looked her over, shook his head at her appearance, and asked, “Looking for someone?”

“Brett Bullman.”

“He’s here,” Havoc confirmed. Then he glanced behind her, narrowed his eyes, and took her arm. “Come with me.”

He had her trotting along, moving between dancers, waitresses, and chatting throngs, before she finally found her voice. “Where are we going?”

As he wended his way through the crowds, he leaned down near her ear so she could hear him. “You want to see Brett, right?”

Her throat tightened. “Yes.” She did, she really did, but the place was so busy . . . meeting him outside would be preferable. “Maybe you could just tell him to come out front?”

Havoc glanced behind her again. He had the advantage of much added height for a better view. “Brett’s right over here.”

He rushed her so that she almost tripped, and he had to right her.

Sounding apologetic, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” His eyes weren’t mean, just curious and maybe . . . protective. But that made no sense at all.

Did he really think Brett would be cruel? She couldn’t imagine that. Indifferent, yes. Even angry. But despite her role in all this, she couldn’t imagine him cutting her down.

The farther they went into the bar, the more her anxiety grew. And then finally, they came upon Brett.

He sat at a table with two other men . . . and three women. Audrey stalled. She could barely breathe, so how could she talk?

“They’re fans,” Havoc told her with a hand at the small of her back, nudging her forward. “That’s all. The guys are just being friendly.”

“I . . .” Her heart suffered a crushing blow, but pride made her say, “He can see whomever he wants.”

“Right.” Havoc propelled her right up next to Brett.

Brett saw her, almost smiled, and then . . . didn’t. Everyone at the table looked at her, and then looked at her again, giving her a disbelieving once-over.

Maybe she looked even worse than she realized.

Havoc broke the awkwardness by saying, “Someone here to see you, Brett.”

Belatedly, Brett stood. “Audrey.” Frowning, he studied her from head to toe. “What are you doing here?”

Havoc leaned in to him. “Drew came in right behind her. I, ah, thought it’d be better if she didn’t run into him just yet.”

One of the other guys stood, too. Audrey thought his name was Dickey something or other.

Eyes flared, he said, “Shit. Is she the one?”

Brett crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her as he spoke to the other fighter. “Audrey Porter.”

The guy whistled. “Well, it’d be best if Drew has a day or two to cool down before he sees her.”

“That’s what I figured,” Havoc said.

The fighter held out a hand. “Dickey Thompson.”

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