Sinful Desires Vol. 4 (7 page)

The detectives asked a few more follow-up questions regarding the time Brock and I were dating, but I could tell it all basically boiled down to the same thing: why had I dated a man who'd drugged and tried to rape me? When they realized my answer was always going to be that I hadn't known what he'd done until afterwards, they seemed satisfied. Jabowski gave me his card and said that someone would be in touch.

As soon as they left, I sank down on the floor. What had just happened?

Julien sat down next to me. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. I didn't know. I thought I'd put it all behind me and I wouldn't have to think about it again. I'd accepted that the closest I was going to get to justice was the money Julien had gotten for me.

“Shit.”

“What's wrong?” Julien put his hand on my shoulder.

“The money, Julien.” I looked over at him. “If the cops start digging, they're going to find out that Brock gave me ten thousand dollars. It's going to look like hush money.” My stomach lurched. “Or like he paid me for sex.”

He took my hand. “I'm not going to let that happen, Piper. Brock gave me the money. I gave it to you. I'll tell them you didn't know where it came from. You thought it was just from me.”

I shook my head, barely hearing him. Now that I was getting over my initial shock, I tried to process what had happened. How had they found out about what happened in Vegas? Not many people knew about it.

“Reed,” I said softly.

“What?”

I looked up at Julien. “Something must've happened to make Reed tell the cops what happened to me. He was furious when he found out what Brock had done.” My heart gave a crazy little skip. “He must be worried about how I'd take it.” I started to stand. “I have to go see him.”

“Piper, wait.” Julien's hand closed around my arm, keeping me seated.

I looked over. His face was flushed and he couldn't meet my eyes. Concern for my friend took priority, no matter how I felt about what Reed had done. “What is it?”

“It wasn't Reed,” he said. His eyes flicked to mine and then down again. He let go of my arm and folded his hands together. “He didn't tell the cops about Brock. I did.”

“You?” The word fell flat between us. “And you didn't think it was a good idea to ask me first? Or, I don't know, at least tell me they'd be coming?”

“Those weren't the two I talked to,” he said. “The detective I spoke with said he'd give me a head's up before he came over so I could tell you.”

I crossed my arms and reminded myself that I'd been ready to go see Reed to tell him I wasn't mad about what he'd done. How could I not offer Julien a fraction of that same forgiveness?

He held up his hands, palms out. “Let me explain, please.”

I motioned for him to continue.

“You remember on Saturday when I mentioned a fundraiser I was going to with my mom because my dad was too busy?”

I nodded.

“Well, it was at the Michaels' house and as soon as I got there, I saw Brock all over this one server. She was barely eighteen and looked like she was too scared to tell him to go away. I didn't say anything when he kept talking to her, but when I saw him give her a drink, my gut said he was drugging her. I kept watching and, sure enough, about five minutes later, he had his arm around her and they were leaving. She was having a hard time walking.”

My hands curled into fists and I felt my nails biting into my palms, but I ignored the pain.

“I tried going after them, but by the time I managed to get across the room, they were gone. It took me almost fifteen minutes to find him in a spare room.” The expression on Julien's face went from concern over what I was thinking to fury over what he was remembering. “What he was doing to her...”

I felt like I was going to be sick. I looked down at his hands and things clicked into place. My annoyance at him faded as I reached over and gently took his injured hand in mine.

“You stopped him,” I said softly. It wasn't a question.

“But I didn't get to him before he raped her.”

Now I could hear that some of the anger in his voice was directed at himself.

“You still stopped him from hurting her even more,” I said firmly.

Julien looked up at me, his eyes glittering. “I beat the shit out of him, Piper. Knocked him out and kept going. I don't know what would've happened if a couple of guests hadn't heard the commotion and pulled me off of him.”

I started to unwind the bandage he'd clumsily wrapped around his hand, ignoring him when he started to protest. “Tell me what happened next,” I prompted.

“The cops had already been called, and there were enough guests around that the Michaels' bodyguards couldn't really do anything to me since I wasn't putting up a fight. They also couldn't completely cover up what had happened because too many people had already seen the girl.”

I could feel Julien's eyes on me as I finished taking off the bandage. I caught my breath as I saw the damage. His knuckles were swollen and bruised, crisscrossed with angry red cuts.

“You should've gone to the hospital and gotten this checked out,” I said and then stood. “Come on, let me take a look at it.”

He followed me into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub while I got out my first aid kit.

“What happened when the police got there?” I asked.

“I didn't want to tell them why I'd been suspicious of Brock, but I knew as soon as one of them started talking about how 'boys will be boys' when they have too much to drink that I couldn't keep you out of it. They needed to know that he'd done it before and this wasn't a case of her being too drunk to consent and him being too drunk not to notice.”

I knelt in front of him and began to clean his wounds. He winced at the sting, but didn't pull his hand away.

“I'm so sorry, Piper. I didn't know how to tell you.”

I focused on applying anti-bacterial cream to his cuts. “It's okay, Julien. I understand why you did it.” I placed his palm flat on mine. “Can you move your fingers?”

If he was startled by the change of conversation, he didn't show it. “Some.” He moved each finger. “I don't think anything's broken.”

“You need an x-ray,” I said as I re-wrapped it with a fresh bandage.

“I'm fine,” he insisted.

I looked up at him now, a new anger rushing through me. “You're not fine!” I snapped, startling him. “You could have serious damage to your hand, Julien. What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking that I hadn't been there to protect you and I'd fucked up protecting that girl. I kept thinking of his hands on you...” His voice trailed off and he looked away, like he'd revealed more than he'd intended.

“You didn't know me when it happened.” My stomach was twisting again, but this time it was for a different reason. I'd suspected Julien felt something for me that was more than friendship, but he'd never acted on it or even talked about it, allowing me to push it away and not have to deal. Now it was right there.

“Doesn't matter,” he said. He pulled his injured hand away.

“It does matter,” I insisted. I reached out and put my hand on his cheek, turned his face back to mine. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

I didn't answer as I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his. His entire body stiffened at the contact. It was brief, chaste, but I couldn't deny the way my skin tingled the moment it had come against his. I stood before either of us could start overanalyzing what had just happened.

“Come on,” I said.

“Where are we going?” His voice was unsteady and warmth spread through me as I realized an innocent kiss had done that.

“To the hospital,” I said. I'd try to figure out what all of this meant later. Right now, Julien needed a professional to look at his hand.

Chapter 8

Once I'd let it sink in, I'd been worried that what I'd done would change everything, but it didn't. Julien didn't let it. Our friendship remained as solid as ever. If anything, we were closer than before. We just didn't talk about the kiss. Sometimes I wondered if maybe I'd read him wrong and he didn't feel that way about me after all. But other times, I'd catch him watching me and I was sure it was more than just platonic affection in his gaze.

Then there was the way I was starting to feel around him. I couldn't deny the way I'd felt when I'd kissed him, but I did try to play it off as gratitude for what he'd done and said. That worked for about a week and then I had to give it up because I was tired of lying to myself. I didn't think I was in love with Julien, but what I felt for him was absolutely more than friendship.

The day I first admitted that to myself, I spent hours trying to talk myself out of it. Over the last six months, I'd made two very bad choices when it came to men, one of which was a direct result of letting myself rebound into a relationship just because I'd been hurting. By the end of the night, I decided I was going to be smart this time. I wouldn't push anything. I would let our friendship grow naturally and see where things went. I wouldn't try to figure out exactly how I felt about him and I wouldn't initiate again. If Julien decided that he wanted to make a move, then I'd deal.

That worked really well for a couple weeks. We continued doing home improvement stuff around my place. We went out to eat and to movies together. We even went to see a live musical at the theater. Front row tickets that Julien said he'd won, but I suspected he paid full price for. The more time we spent together, the more we shared and the closer we became. When I talked to Anastascia, I could hear the questions in her voice, wondering if Julien and I were dating, but I didn't go there. I loved Anastascia, but for the time being, I wanted to keep whatever this was to myself.

We avoided parties and events that those of his social circle would attend, steering clear of Brock and Reed both. I'd given my official statement a few days after the police had questioned me and they said they'd call if they needed me.

Brock had immediately been released on bail, which wasn’t surprising. Julien kept trying to prevent me from seeing coverage, but I couldn't get away from it. Britni's support of her brother was loud and her opinions of both the server and myself scathing. She never quite managed to get our names out there, but a few of the students at Madame Emilana's had said things that told me they suspected.

Reed's media presence was suspiciously absent. He made no public statements and I never saw a single picture of him with Britni. My feelings for him had quieted, but I wasn't sure if they were completely gone yet.

By mid-November, Julien started hinting that he wanted me to spend the holidays with him and his family. Fortunately, Anastascia had already invited me for Thanksgiving and Christmas was implied. I knew things were strained at the Atwood house, especially since the whole Julien and Brock incident. The Michaels family had apparently been partners in one of the Atwood businesses and lines were being drawn. Julien hadn't said it, but I was pretty sure one of those lines had been his father taking Brock's side.

The Friday before Thanksgiving, I got home from work late, exhausted from a double shift – one before dance and one after – and barely had enough energy to take a shower before falling into bed. I was asleep almost instantly.

I'd only been asleep for a couple hours when I heard someone knocking on my door. I started toward the door when I realized that I hadn't bothered putting on anything when I'd crawled under the covers. I grabbed my robe and hurried down the stairs.

“Hello?” I called as I neared the door. It was a little after one-thirty in the morning and while I had a few new acquaintances, my number of friends in the city was limited to pretty much two.

“It's me.”

I easily recognized Julien's voice and let him in. The moment I saw him, I knew something was wrong. His was pale, his hair a mess. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face was drawn. He looked like he hadn't slept since I'd last seen him two days ago.

“What's wrong?” I shivered as I closed the door. We'd had a couple flurries this week, but nothing had stuck. I had a feeling that would change soon.

He sank down on the couch Anastascia had given me after she'd bought a new one for herself. I sat next to him, knowing he'd speak when he was ready.

“My dad.” He said the words like he didn't know what they meant. He looked at his hands. “Um, he and my mom were arguing. About Steven. I was just supposed to be picking something up and going back to my place, but they were fighting and then he collapsed and Mom screamed.”

A feeling of dread filled me, telling me that this story wasn't going to have a happy ending.

“He wasn't breathing when I came in. Mom was panicking. I started CPR while one of the staff called for an ambulance.” He shook his head. “The paramedics kept doing CPR but I could see it on their faces as soon as they touched him. The doctors pronounced him dead at the ER. They said it was a heart attack or aneurysm or something like that. Nothing we could've done.” He looked over at me, his eyes wild. “He's dead. My dad's dead.”

“Oh, Julien.” I wrapped my arms around him. Tears stung my eyes, but they weren't for Mr. Atwood. I hadn't known him. My heart was aching for my friend. “I'm so sorry.”

Julien was stiff in my arms, as if he wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to my embrace.

“My uncle's at the house with my mom. He's her closest brother. I couldn't stay there.”

“It's okay,” I assured him.

“I'm going to have to call the boards tomorrow,” he said. “They need to know. I guess I'll step in for him until they can find a replacement.”

I put my hand on Julien's cheek and found it cold and clammy. He was definitely in shock. I picked up the afghan from the back of the couch and wrapped it around us both.

“Shh,” I said. “Don't worry about that now.”

He looked at me, a puzzled expression on his face. “I'm sad, but I don't understand why.”

Some people might've been freaking out, wondering why he wasn't crying, why he sounded so cold. I got it. Everyone processed grief differently.

“Why does it feel like there's this hole inside me, Piper?” His voice trembled. “I haven't loved my dad since before Steven was born. I've hated him since Steven died. Why should I feel anything but relief that he's gone?”