Courtney Cole - Before We Fall

Sixty worst-of-my-life minutes later, I finally hear the words I’ve been waiting for, called loudly through the cells.

“Jacey Vincent. Your ride’s here.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, and I realize that I’d honestly been worried that for the first time ever, maybe Brand wasn’t going to come to my rescue. That maybe he’d called Gabriel, and my brother had told him to let me stew for a while, to think about what I’d done or some bullshit.

But he didn’t.

Thank god.

Once I see his face, though, after I’ve walked past all the hookers and drunks, down the long tiled corridor flanked by jail cells, I’m not sure that I should be thanking god for Brand’s rescue. I should probably be praying for my soul, because Brand’s furious, and from the look on his face it’s a real possibility that he might kill me.

His enormous frame practically fills up the lobby where he’s waiting, and I’ve never seen him look quite as angry as he does right now. He’s got to be at least 6’5” and he’s built like a brick house, with not an ounce of fat on him, and that makes him a very intimidating presence, particularly when he’s pissed.

He served in the Army Rangers with my brother and he looks like he just stepped out of uniform, even though it’s been almost two years now. He’s let his blond hair grow, so now it’s fashionably shaggy and grazes his collar line. If he didn’t seem like a brother to me, I’d say he was hot. The women in the reception area seem to agree. Every female eye in the place is glued on him. But his are glued on me.

His blue eyes are hard and glittering as he watches me approach.

He’s pissed.

I gulp.

“It’s not what you think,” I tell him preemptively when I reach him. “They weren’t my drugs.”

His gaze is fixed on my cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asks harshly. I nod, my fingers brushing across my cheek self-consciously.

“I’m fine… I tried to break up a fight, but—”

Brand cuts me off by grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the door.

“It’s not what I think? So I didn’t just get called to the police station at four A.M. to bail your ass out? Then I get here and your face is swollen and you’re dressed like a fucking prostitute. At the moment, I almost don’t give a fuck what you did or didn’t do, Jacey. You were supposed to quit Saffron. Gabriel’s going to shit.”

“Don’t tell him,” I plead as he holds the door open. And even though Brand’s pissed, I can’t help but notice that he’s shielding my body with his, hiding me from the people in the lobby. As if that can somehow take away my shame for being here. Even still, it’s a sweet gesture, especially since he’s so mad.

Brand stares at me icily. “Your brother’s gonna know about this,” he tells me firmly. “Jesus, Jacey. After everything that happened with Jared, and the therapy that you’ve gone through already… We were starting to think that you were actually going to get your shit together. But now you’re assaulting police officers. Christ. If that Kinkaide kid hadn’t pulled some sort of strings, you’d still be rotting in jail. They don’t let people out who assault cops.”

This stops me in my tracks.

“Dominic got the charges dropped?” I ask in shock. Why didn’t he say anything when he stood there staring at me? All he said was… I’m sorry. And what the fuck was he sorry for? Smacking me in the face? Getting me arrested? Leaving me to rot in jail?

Brand leads me to his truck and opens the door, purposely looking away from my ass as I climb in.

“Yeah. I don’t know how he did it, all I know is what they told me when I arrived. You’re only facing possession of marijuana charges now. You’re lucky. Well, lucky until Gabe hears about this. He’s going to kick your ass. You’re dressed like a hooker, you make tips by flirting with Saffron customers… you might as well be a stripper, for god’s sake. Gabe’s done everything he can think of to help you, Jacey. We don’t even know what to do with you anymore.”

He slams my door and I do feel guilty.

After everything went down in flames with Jared, Gabe paid for therapy for me. He and Maddy let me cry on their shoulders for hours and hours. They held my hand as I was taking baby steps to stand on my own two feet.

And since I lost my job working for Maddy when she sold her restaurant, they put down the deposit for my apartment in Chicago, with the understanding that I would find another part-time job to pay my bills while I finished school. Saffron wasn’t exactly what they had in mind.

As Brand swings into the truck, I turn to him.

“It’s not my fault that I’m still at Saffron,” I snap defensively. “I tried to get a normal waitressing job. But I can’t make enough money to pay my bills doing that while I’m in school. Working at Saffron is no different than working at Hooters or someplace. All I have to do is flirt and serve champagne to rich people at private parties.”

“You mean, rich men at private parties.” Brand scowls as he jams his keys into the ignition. “You’re only one step above a stripper, Jacey, and you know it.”

“I’ve only got one class left,” I tell him quietly. “And I’m taking it online. I’ll have my business degree in just a few weeks. I’m working on it, Brand. I’m working on everything. I’m doing the best I can.” As I turn to face Brand even more squarely, the smell of his aftershave floods over me. That familiar scent, symbolizing something warm and safe, some one warm and safe, makes me realize that I’m okay. I’m no longer in a Chicago jail.

I’m safe.

I’m safe with Brand.

He’s rather die than let anything hurt me.

Then why can’t I stop the waterworks that suddenly overwhelm me?

There’s no reason to cry now, but no matter how much I try to stop the tears, I can’t. My sobs well up into a wail that erupts into a shoulder-shaking crying jag.

As I cry inconsolably, I know that with every sob and every quaking breath I take, I’m Brand’s worst nightmare.

Jacey

Brand stares at me in horror.

“Jesus Christ, Jace. Calm down. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.” He tries to soothe me as he awkwardly pats my back, his large hands thumping too hard on my shoulders. “It’s okay. I know you’re trying. And you’ve been doing a good job. Everything’s fine.”

He keeps repeating himself, because he doesn’t know what to say. A woman crying is his kryptonite. He has no idea how to handle it.

I launch myself into his arms, burying my face into his shirt. I know I’m getting snot on him, but I don’t care. I’m just so happy to be here right now, in this truck with Brand. But more importantly, I’m so happy to be out of jail. I hadn’t realized until this very minute how scared I’d been.

“Thank you for bailing me out.” I sniff. “I didn’t really assault a police officer. It was a reflex… he went to grab me and I pushed his hand away. I didn’t mean to. And the drugs weren’t mine. They were in Dominic’s car.”

Brand looks at me with sympathy as he steers us through the parking lot and out onto the dark street.

“Tell me what happened,” he instructs. “Everything.”

So I do. I tell him all of it. How Kaylie almost got forced into a blow job, how Dominic Kinkaide, the fucking actor , had stopped it, but then he’d turned right around and gotten into a fight which ended in both of us being arrested.

“He fucking flipped out on this guy,” I tell Brand. “And the other guy clocked him hard in the temple, so I don’t know how he stayed standing up, but he still managed to kick the shit out of the dude. I jumped in to try and break it up and one of them accidentally smacked me.”