Rogue Alliance

TWENTY



Brennan arrived at the docks at ten till eleven on Sunday morning, his cravings strong. He was sick to himself and thought of disappearing. Maybe he could run to the hills, away from civilization, where he would no longer be a menace, temptation far from his grasp.

But that proposition felt so lonely, so isolating. He would rather commit suicide than go without human contact. He had missed it for so long already and, now that he was back amongst the living, he doubted he could ever go without it again.

Despite Victor’s shortcomings, he was the only friend he’d ever had, or could remember having. The fact that Victor depended on him as well was something so invaluable he knew he would not walk away.

Then there was Shyla. He didn’t know what to make of his response to her. He only knew that he was not yet ready to walk away from her either. The need to understand her further, to protect her from…whatever she so clearly was hiding from, was too strong.

He pulled the collar of his jacket up. The morning was cool. The sun had yet to make its appearance and warm the day as the fog had not lifted yet. Walking down the dock the Shannon slowly came into view. Victor and Shyla were already on deck watching for him. Right away, he noticed Victor’s possessive body language as he stood with his arm around Shyla’s shoulder. Shyla’s behavior was clear, too. She stood rigid under his wing, a plastic smile pasted to her face. Brennan wondered if they’d had a spat that morning.

“Morning, Brennan,” called Victor.

“Morning.”

“Shyla’s eager to see a few sights while we’re docked,” Victor said, “I thought it best you two be off right away, in case our client is early.”

Brennan didn’t board.

“Sure,” he called back.

“You doing okay this morning? Did the meetings go well yesterday?”

“They went very well. No issues.”

“Hmm, well, you seem a bit off.”

“Yeah, well…” Brennan said, “I didn’t sleep very well I guess. Maybe Shyla and I will have to find an espresso stand.”

He managed to eke out a thin smile.

“I could use a cup of coffee,” Shyla answered.

When she stepped out from Victor’s hold, he reached up and grabbed the scarf he had wrapped around his neck.

“Here, wear this,” he said to her, “it’s still chilly out. I don’t want you to catch cold.”

Brennan watched as Victor lovingly undid the top button of Shyla’s coat. As he pulled down the collar and wrapped the gray cashmere scarf around her neck, Brennan caught a brief glimpse of bruising on her neck.

Even from the short distance, he could tell she had been grabbed violently, possibly choked. His jaw clenched and he saw red. His belly went hot with anger. How could Victor have hurt her like that? Why would he have hurt her? Only two days previously, he had commented on her beauty and vulnerability. Is that what attracted him, the thought of taking advantage of those traits?

He clenched his fists inside the pockets of his jacket and bit down on the desire to beat the living shit out of Victor. Hadn’t he just been thinking of how he valued their friendship?

He scanned Shyla’s face. Her eyes were on him. A knowing glistened in them. She knew he had seen the marks. She smiled and gave Victor a light kiss.

“Can we get you anything while we’re out?” she asked.

“No. Thanks for asking. I’ll see you two around one or so?”

“Yep. See you then,” she nodded.

Brennan offered her a hand as she stepped off the boat. They waved Victor off and walked in silence down the dock. Their footsteps sounded hollow on the wet wood of the pier.

“Where would you like to go first?” he asked casually.

She gave him a no-nonsense glance.

“Victor overheard us talking last weekend and asked about it.”

Her demeanor was different now that she was away from Victor; to the point, more what he was used to with her. He wondered why she played a different role when in his company. Was she someone else in front of Victor, or was she someone else with him. He couldn’t tell.

“Oh, yeah,” Brennan said, “and what exactly did he hear?”

“He says he didn’t hear what was said, just that he heard mumbling down the hall and knew we had an interaction. I played it cool and told him I was looking for pen and paper to write him a note. You saw movement and worried there was an intruder in your office and went to check it out. You ran into me. I got spooked. You apologized and found me a pen and paper. End of story. I’m telling you, so that our stories will match.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” Brennan quipped, “what was his response?”

Brennan watched her from the corner of his eye as they walked the Warf. She blinked a few times before answering.

“He wasn’t concerned with our conversation in the least. He was more concerned with our interaction in general.”

“What do you mean?” Brennan asked, pace slowing.

Shyla stopped and faced him.

“What I mean is that Victor is a jealous man and his only concern was whether or not you made a pass at me.”

Brennan reached up and pulled the scarf down, revealing the bruising on her neck. “Is that how you got this?”

Shyla brushed his hand away and took a step back.

“You don’t need to worry about me. You just worry about keeping our story straight when he asks. And he will ask, Brennan. He’s worried that you might like me. But he also trusts you, as much as he can trust anyone. So keep that in mind.”

She walked ahead.

“There’s a Starbucks on the corner up there,” she said, “let’s get something warm to drink.”

He let her lead the way.