Chapter 23
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H e stewed about what she’d said all the way to her apartment. The moment she’d said it, his thoughts had gone to that one decision he’d made and always regretted. Damn it. He needed to warn the guy about what his wife was doing, but would he be doing it to rid himself of the guilt or for the guy’s benefit?
Or would it benefit them both?
By the time he pulled into the parking lot beside her, he’d decided to put aside the debate for a later time. He helped her unload the car. While she looped the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder, he grabbed her camera bag. As soon as they exited the elevator on her floor, he heard the sound of shattering glass coming from somewhere down the hall. Brynn paused outside of Martin’s apartment and looked back at him. The sound came again, sharp and jarring, from behind the door. She rushed to it and fumbled with her purse.
When she withdrew a key, Tucker plucked it from her fingers. “Let me do it. Stay behind me.” He set the camera bag down against the wall.
Tucker started to insert the key, but the door swung open a crack. The lock was broken, and from the looks of it, the door had been kicked in. Standing to one side, out of the line of fire, he opened it. A dark-haired man stood in the middle of the living room, a glass object with a wooden base raised high over his head. He paused in mid-motion and glared at him. “Who the hell are you?”
Tucker took in the destruction the man had inflicted upon the room. “Call the police, Brynn.”
She whipped out her phone and dialed. “I’d like to report a break-in. My neighbor’s boyfriend has broken into his apartment and trashed it. It looks as though he has systematically destroyed everything in the living room.” She rattled off the building address and apartment number.
“I didn’t break in. I have a key,” Tate said, edging toward the door. His eyes appeared glassy, his pupils pinpoints.
Tucker glanced at the broken lock. “Doesn’t look like you used a key to me. Destruction of private property is a crime. And from the looks of things, there’s several thousand dollars in damages here. If the property value is high enough, you’ll go to jail and stay there.” Tucker leaned casually against the doorframe, blocking the man’s escape. “Where’s Martin? If he’s lying injured inside this apartment, you’ll go down for assault.”
“He’s not here. I left him at the spa.” Tate edged toward the door.
“Call him, Brynn. Make sure he’s okay.”
She dialed the number, and a phone rang inside the apartment. “Oh my God,” Brynn breathed. “Martin never goes anywhere without his phone.” She rushed to enter the apartment, but Tucker braced an arm on the door frame, blocking her way.
“Put that thing down,” Tucker said, his attention laser-focused on Tate.
Tate eased forward, tossing the glass object in the air and then catching it. But his eyes weren’t on him; they were on Brynn. “Martin may be bleeding while we have this standoff. Move, and I’ll leave.”
“Put that thing down, and I’ll think about it,” Tucker countered. Come on, asshole. Just a little closer…
As though he’d heard him, Tate sauntered forward, fixated on Brynn. “Get out of my way,” Tate demanded.
Tucker lunged forward, whipping out a hand, and smacked the glass piece away. He swept Tate’s legs from under him and had him on the ground, his arm twisted high up between his shoulder blades in a second. The man screamed like a girl when he put his knee in his back, pinning him to the floor.
“Go, Brynn. See if Martin’s here.”
Tate strained to rise. “He’s not here. I took his phone and left him at the spa.”
“If you’ve hurt him, Tate, I’m personally going to kick your nuts so hard you’ll have to cough to clear them out of your throat,” Brynn threatened. She rushed past them and headed down the hallway.
Tucker bit his lip to keep from laughing. “He better not be in there hurt because, if he is, I might not be able to hold her off.” He couldn’t wait to call Denotti and tell him about this.
Brynn was back in a few seconds, relief in her expression.
“Looks like you’re not going to be singing soprano for the rest of your life, asshole,” Tucker said.
Twenty long minutes later, while Tate see-sawed between begging him to let him up to cussing and threatening him, the intercom buzzed, and Brynn pushed the button to let the police in. The two officers took in the situation in seconds and rushed to take custody of Tate.
“I’m going to sue you into oblivion, asshole,” Tate threatened Tucker as the officers dragged him to his feet.
“Do you know this man?” one officer asked Tucker.
“No, but I’ve met the guy who lives in this apartment, and this guy isn’t him.”
Brynn said, “His name is Tate Norton. He’s the boyfriend of the man who rents this apartment, but his name isn’t on the lease, and he’s only a guest now and then. We walked in to see him destroying the apartment.”
The officer cuffed Tate while the other searched his pockets. He opened his wallet, confirming Brynn’s ID, and radioed it in. “You’re going to be too busy to file a lawsuit, Mr. Norton. There’s a BOLO out for your arrest for assault and battery, auto theft, and now, we’ll add the destruction of private property way over four hundred dollars.”
The other officer practically crowed when he removed two vials of white powder from Tate’s front pants pocket. “And we’ll be adding cocaine possession to those charges as well. Seems like you’re a walking felony, Mr. Norton.” The officer radioed in for another unit to help with the scene.
Tate had gone from raging to sullen silence. Maybe the seriousness of the charges was finally sinking in. When the officers started to frog-march him out of the apartment, he said.
“Fuck you, Brynn—and fuck your boyfriend. You’ll both regret this.”
“Not as much as you will, Tate,” Brynn fired back. “The guys at the jail are really going to love you.”
Tucker chuckled.
Two more officers entered the room. One started documenting the damage to the apartment with a camera while the other interviewed Brynn.
Tucker took a couple of steps back and leaned against the door facing.
The elevator door opened, and he turned to see a battered and bruised Martin coming toward him. “Shit.”
The guy had to have some warning. He moved to intercept him. “Hey, Martin.”
The man looked up. A bright red handprint stood out on his cheek, his lip was busted, and his eye was swollen shut and would be black and blue in the near future. The way he moved seemed indicative of some other injuries. Maybe bruised or broken ribs. He’d had a few of those himself and could empathize.
“The police are here, and they’ve arrested your boyfriend. They’ve taken him to the station to be booked.”
Martin was silent for a few seconds. “Good.”
“He’s been in your apartment a while, Martin. He’s taken out his aggression on your place. He had cocaine on him when the police arrested him. He was high. He’ll be charged for that, too.”
“Good.”
“You’ll need to brace yourself. The apartment’s in pretty bad shape.”
Martin nodded, his gaze avoiding his. Tucker fell in step with him as he continued down the hall. Martin got to the open doorway and stared at the destruction. His expression blanked with shock.
On seeing Martin, Brynn said something to the police officer and moved to embrace Martin.
He flinched, and she quickly backed off. “How badly are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“I’m just a little bruised.” He stepped forward to cling to her for a minute. “We argued out by the pool at the spa. I told him I’d had enough and no longer wanted him in my life. He went wild and attacked me right there in front of all the other guests. Spa security pulled him off of me and called the police, but he got away from them. I’ve filed a police report for assault. He took my keys and stole my car. They had a BOLO out for it as well. I saw it in the parking lot. At least he didn’t trash that, too.”
“I’m sorry, Martin. We’ll help you clean everything up once the police release the scene.”
Martin laid his head on her shoulder momentarily, then straightened. “At least he didn’t damage the aquarium. I’d have killed him for that. I need to speak to the officers. They’ll have to cancel the BOLO on my car so I can drive it.”
She nodded. “When you’re done, give me a call.”
“Okay.”
Tucker snagged her camera bag and laptop from just outside the door and fell into step with her as she made her way next door to her apartment.
“I need to call Jess and let her know what happened.”
“He’s going to need an army to clean that mess up,” Tucker said.
“He won’t want anyone at the magazine to know what happened. He’ll probably take a couple of weeks off until the bruises fade. He’s done that before.”
“This isn’t the first time Tate has beaten him up?”
She unlocked the apartment door. “No. Jess and I both tried to convince him that Tate was a lost cause and would never change. I hate that it took a public beating for it to finally register. Though he’s surrounded by friends, Martin’s afraid of being abandoned and alone. His parents kicked him out for being gay at seventeen. Everything he’s accomplished, he’s done on his own.”
Tucker put the laptop case and camera bag in one of the chairs. He could understand why she and Martin had bonded. For all intents and purposes, she’d been abandoned by her parents when she’d needed them the most, too.
“The cops will be through documenting the destruction soon, and we can go back over and help him shovel everything out,” Tucker suggested.
She turned and embraced him. “Thank you for all you did. Had Tate escaped, Martin would’ve been frantic until he was caught and arrested.”
He ran his hand down the small of her back, drawing her in closer. “I was just in the right place at the right time. Taking him down was no big deal.” He’d dealt with worse assholes than Tate.
“It was a big deal, Tucker. More than you know. Martin won’t have to be afraid as long as he’s in jail.”
The asshole would probably be out on bail in a few days if he had the money for a good lawyer. Damn it!
“I’ll fix us something to drink and call Jess,” Brynn said.
And he’d call Denotti and tell him they were clear and at Brynn’s apartment.