5. Brogan
If there had ever been a contest for worst day ever, this one was quickly approaching it. First, it’d started with an altercation with my father, who I was starting to question whether he wanted to help me beat the charges sure to be levied against me or not.
“When you live a life of sin, those evil deeds catch up to you, son,” Stanley Sinclair had said.
“What evil deeds have I done this time?”
“That boy. You’re still with him, correct?”
“That boy is a man, and my personal life is none of your concern.”
“I’d warned you about him years ago. You never learned to listen.”
“Listen. You ordered me to get married to Layla. We were engaged, for fuck’s sake.”
“And what good it did, because she’s gone, and you’re blowing your chance at freedom.”
“How am I blowing my chance at freedom? She’s missing, and I have no fucking idea where she is. Am I supposed to go on television and act like a besotted fool begging her to come back to me?”
“It would be a start.”
“Real Sinclair men would never show such weakness. Isn’t that what you’ve drilled into my head, especially in high school?” When he’d said nothing else, I shook my head in disgust. “The detective is coming in to see me today. Would you let the lawyer know?”
He’d begrudgingly agreed, and the man had made it to Sinclair Pharmaceuticals right as the detective did. Everyone nearby had scattered at the appearance of both men, but they all knew who they were and what they’d wanted.
I wasn’t na?ve enough to not know the rumor mill was in overdrive at the office.
Hell, it even extended to everywhere else I went lately.
Invitations to events I never wanted to attend began to dry up, and even the few times I’d hit up the golf course with friends, they’d make excuses to leave early if they even showed up at all.
The only one who’d been here for me completely during this time was Declan. My father thought the two of us were living a life of sin, but the only sin was keeping him hidden like some dirty fucking secret.
The truth was that he was the only person—man or woman—that I’d ever loved.
When I eventually went down for this, everything between us would crash to the scorched earth as well.
I’d wanted nothing more than to shield him from the darkness encompassing me, but I somehow kept dragging him into it.
The lies and secrecy were like quicksand, and with each day that passed, the two of us sank deeper.
Eventually, neither of us would ever be able to come back from it.
My mind then went to the visit with the detective, and the entire meeting had gone about the same as the previous ones. He’d try to scare me by telling me they were close to breaking this case open, to which I would tell him I was glad.
“It’s your own department’s incompetence keeping my fiancée from being found. If you’d perhaps put your resources into finding her instead of badgering me, she’d be home.”
“You think you’re two steps ahead, but that confidence is going to be your downfall.
I’ve dealt with smug bastards like you that think you’re above the law.
I’m looking forward to the day when we find the missing piece to blow this entire case wide open.
Once we do, we’re going to parade you through the city where we’ll see if that arrogance is still present on the perp walk. ”
I’d shrugged then, but it was getting harder to wave his warning off. That was never something I’d ever admit to him, or anyone else, even Declan. As I looked over at him, he was now dropping to his knees. Before he could touch Enslee, I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Wait a fucking minute.”
Declan rose back to his feet, then looked between her and me. “You don’t think that she’s… ahh… dead?”
“I fucking hope not. This is all I need right now, and you too. The detective gets a hard on whenever he thinks about arresting me. The motherfucker was practically salivating earlier when he’d stopped by for a visit.”
“When will they leave you alone?” he asked aloud, although I knew it was more rhetorical. There was no need to respond to something we already knew the answer to. “We have to check on her.”
I scrubbed both hands down my face. “They already believe I’ve killed one woman, and now if she is—”
“Hey, Brogan,” Declan said in a voice so low but firm that it made me pause. “Let’s not buy trouble.”
“You’re right,” I told him.
“This was an accident. There are cameras in this part, and they’ll confirm it if need be. She slipped and fell. They cannot pin that on you.”
“You’re right,” I said, then watched as Declan kneeled back down beside her.
He picked up her limp hand, and I watched him locate her pulse point before laying her hand back down. He also checked the pulse point in her neck before rising back to his feet. “She’s alive, but her pulse is weak.”
“Can you do something?” I asked him
“What do you want me to do?” he replied.
“I don’t know. You’re the doctor.”
“I only play one on TV,” Declan said, and I let out a sarcastic laugh.
“I think I’m losing my fucking mind,” I replied.
“It’s going to be alright. You’re under an incredible amount of stress and scrutiny, and anyone under all that would—"
“We have to do something with her,” I interrupted.
Panic filled me. Regardless of any footage, the detective would pin this on me, and I’d be sent to Rikers Island on a one-way ticket. There would be no “get out of jail free” card, or anything else. I’d be labeled a flight risk and remanded to custody with no bond.
“What do you suppose we do with her?”
“The fuck if I know, but we can’t leave her here. We need to bring her somewhere she can get checked out.”
“A hospital is the best option at this time. We can call an ambulance, and—”
“No,” I said forcefully. “We can’t bring her to a hospital. All I need is for the media to get wind of this. The headlines would dub me a fucking serial killer, Declan.”
“You’re right. And we can’t bring her back to your place, either.”
“Do you know if she happens to live close by?”
I shook my head. “You were there in my office when she said she traveled across the country to see me. I think she’s from fucking Alabama or something.”
“Okay, then we’ll bring her to my place.”
“Your penthouse is in the center of the fucking city, and there are so many paparazzi camped out there.”
“We’ll take her to my place on Staten Island. You can come too, and we’ll have Dr. Pierce check her out while we try to figure out a way to spin this.”
“You really think that will work?” I asked him.
“Right now, it might be our only shot. Go ahead and try to clean up this small bit of blood, and I will see if I can find something to help stop her bleeding so we can get her out of here without leaving a fucking Hansel and Gretel trail.”
“We have a first aid kit on the wall. I’ll get something to clean this while you tend to her.” We both sprang into action, and fifteen minutes later, I’d cleaned up any trace of blood, and Declan finished bandaging up the back of her head. “What’s the prognosis?”
“Again, I’m no doctor, but the wound doesn’t appear to be that deep. And the best part is that her pulse is rapidly strengthening. I think we should still get her out of here. Once she comes to, we’ll see what it’ll take to make her go away and keep her silence.”
I nodded in response. Declan had always told me that he was in this with me, and I never realized how true that was until now. Sure, he’d listened to me vent, provided an outlet to let out stress, and had been the calm in this storm. He was also my rock and I needed him more than ever before.
Declan swept her up into his arms, and we carried her downstairs, but I told him to escape out the maintenance entrance. As he did, I hurried to the parking garage to grab Declan’s Range Rover, then came around the side of the garage where he was waiting with her still in his arms.
We got her secured in the backseat of the SUV, then I took my place in the passenger side seat. Declan had a certain kind of calmness right now, but I was much too agitated and concerned to share his same demeanor.
As he sped out of the garage and into the city traffic, I stared out the heavily tinted windows.
Once or twice, I’d see a car or two advance on us, but that was par for the course.
I used to joke that the damn paparazzi must have trackers on his vehicle, but he would laugh that off.
Tonight, neither of us could muster an ounce of amusement over anything.
In fact, a nervous sort of energy filled me, and I alternated between tapping on the middle console and the dashboard until he got on the road toward Staten Island.
Right after, he placed his large hand on my knee to calm me.
“I’d always known Layla was a deceitful bitch, but I never imagined she’d try to frame you this way.”
“What if it isn’t a set-up? She’s young, beautiful, and rich. She might’ve actually been targeted by someone.”
“If she was dead, we would’ve found her already. You know that I have my own team out there looking for her as well. I don’t trust Stanley, and yeah… I’m doing whatever I can on my end to help because I know you aren’t responsible for whatever has happened to her.”
“You’re the only one with any confidence in me. That bastard lawyer of mine always shoots me these disapproving looks. He’d rather cut his own arm off than lose the case, but I can see something in his eyes that tells me he believes me to be guilty.”
“And we’ll prove him wrong. Everyone else too. I know you aren’t a killer, Brogan.”
“Yet, I might’ve killed the woman back there because she still could take a turn for the worse at any time.”
“I think it’s just a slight head wound and not anything overly serious.”
“I’ve had a head wound before too,” I reminded him. It’d been in my senior year of high school. Everyone thought I’d accidentally fallen down the stairs when drunk, but I’d hidden the truth out of shame, anger, and self-preservation.
“Yeah, I think it was after we’d ended things, if I recall correctly,” he responded.
“It was.”
“It’d hurt me when you’d just up and disappeared. I understand, though. We needed to take some time apart after getting busted, and it did give you a head start on your career.”
Only, I hadn’t gotten drunk and fallen. I’d also not left town on a business trip with my father. He’d dragged me to Europe and dropped me into a place that was pure hell. I’d taken a tumble upon my attempted escape, but only because I’d still been under the effects of the anesthesia used on me.
A shudder wracked me as I remembered the electrical currents pumped into me during the electroconvulsive therapy performed by my father’s doctors as they’d tried to remove the gayness out of me.
That night was different from all others in that the anesthesia hadn’t fully taken, and as I was tied partially down to the bed, I screamed as the electricity coursed through me.
Maybe it’d been the seizure brought on by the ECT or my survival instincts, but I’d been able to free my hands and get free.
Unfortunately, I’d also fallen and hit my head, causing a trip to a medical clinic in the mountains.
“I ought to sue the hell out of every one of you,” my father had threatened them. “If my son isn’t right, you won’t live to regret it.”
He hadn’t been mad about the procedure itself, only that I might’ve suffered something permanent from it. After that, he’d gone to other methods, including keeping me away for an entire semester, but it’d never erased the psychosis and agitation he’d believed he was curing.
Our relationship had been irrevocably broken after that, so when I did reunite with Declan in college, there hadn’t been a thing he could do to me. I suppose he could’ve had me kidnapped again, but I honestly believed my father feared me.
And he was right to be. Hell, I was terrified of myself sometimes. Maybe it was the reason he was so quick to believe I’d actually done something to Layla. While I still believed myself to have empathy for others, I’d realized the only one it extended to was the man currently squeezing my thigh.
“We’re here now, Brogan,” Declan said to me, and his voice drew me back to the present.
“Do you want me to call Pierce?” I asked him.
“I’d already called him at Sinclair, so he should be here soon.”
“Okay,” I said, then leaned back against the seat.
Declan input the code and drove onto his estate, which he used as a hideaway from his main home.
It had been perfect for staycations when he needed to be close to New York City.
I’d been several times since he’d first bought it.
Hell, I’d probably either fucked him or vice versa on every surface inside of it.
He pulled into his seven-car garage, and once parked, I got out and moved to the back to pull the woman out.
Shooing off Declan, this time I was the one to carry her inside.
She was as wispy as a feather, and her reddened flesh earlier was now a pale white.
Blood-dampened strands of hair stuck to her skull and the side of her face as she slept so peacefully.
I’d hoped she would come to before we got here, but at least I could now clearly make out the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
“Where to?” I asked Declan.
“The bedroom over there is fine. It has darker sheets and all. The last thing I want to do is explain to Edna why there’s blood on one of the beds.”
Edna was once employed by his family, but she’d followed Declan once he was out on his own.
She lived near the city and traveled to whichever house he was in.
When on the west coast, he had another housekeeper that did the same between his Hollywood and La Jolla properties.
Both women were used to seeing me and had exercised discretion thus far, but a young reporter would be a different story.