Page 62 of Back in Black

Stepping away from her, Brett went deadly serious in an instant. “What club?”

“Paulie’s, down on Minton Street. Out in the back alley after closing.” He pushed away from a porch roof column. “If you enter, I’ll bet on you.”

“Me, too.” Saluting with a beer can, another young man said, “You’d kill ’em all.”

“Brett,” Audrey breathed, barely able to get a word past the restriction in her chest. He couldn’t be thinking of taking part in something so—

He took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Cops don’t know about this?”

One of the boys snorted. “Hell no.” He threw his beer can like a basketball into a broken flowerpot in the yard. “The 5-O would break that shit up.”

“Right.” Brett looked at each of them. “I’ll have to pass, but you guys have fun.”

Groaning complaints followed Audrey and Brett into the foyer. When Audrey started to speak, he shook his head and gave her a look. “Not here.”

Numbness pervaded her limbs on the climb to the second story. Somehow she had to stop the fight. She just wasn’t sure what to do yet.

How offended would Brett be if she called the police?

“Take a breath, Audrey. It’ll be okay. Trust me.” He dug keys out of his pocket and stopped in front of a thick wooden door. A rhythmic “pat, pat, pat” sounded from inside his apartment.

“That’s Spice scratching on the door,” he told her. “Let me grab her so she doesn’t slip out on me.”

One hand on the doorknob, he bent before pushing the door open—and scooped up a slinky multicolored cat who meowed her pleasure with ear-splitting delight.

Brett moved into the apartment and held the door open for Audrey. “Come on in.”

Almost robotic, Audrey stepped in. He closed and locked the door behind her.

Her thoughts skittered about until Brett cupped the back of her neck and drew her in for a warm, soft kiss.

Blinking at him, she tried to decide what to say.

He smiled and lifted the cat up to his chest to scratch under her chin. “Don’t worry so much. I’ll take care of it.”

“It?”

“The fight.” He nudged her toward a seat, then dropped down beside her. The cat left his lap to investigate her.

Audrey liked animals, so she stroked the cat’s back and was rewarded with a deep, rumbling purr.

Stretching an arm out along the back of the sofa, Brett settled in close to her. She hadn’t noticed when he got out his cell phone, or when he’d put in a call.

With the phone to his ear, he kissed her temple, her jaw. Someone answered his call, and he eased back from her to say that he wanted to report an upcoming illegal fight at a nearby bar.

He must have been put on hold, because he went back to seducing Audrey.

“Street fights can be dangerous,” he said between light kisses that left her skin tingling. “Someone drinks too much and decides he’s Superman. Drugs blunt pain so you don’t realize how badly you’re hurt, or how much you’re hurting someone else. There aren’t any medics on hand to monitor things.”

She knew that only too well.

Just then, his call was picked up again, and Brett leaned forward to relay the details of the fight. He chose not to give his name, but did share what he knew. He thanked the officer on the phone and, after shutting off the call, put the cell phone back in his pocket.

“Thank you.”

“What?” He settled back in the seat again. “You think you’re the only one who doesn’t like street fighting?” He drew a hand along the cat’s back, then transferred it to her waist.

She felt caged in—and liked it. “So you don’t approve?”

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