Mary Baxter - Like Silk

“You shouldn’t have to wait tables, you know,” he’d said in a low, kind voice, bringing up the topic.

She’d flushed, then looked away, uncomfortable discussing her personal life with him or anyone else. “I guess Sissy told you,” she finally responded. Sissy Newman was her boss, who had a big heart as well as a big mouth. She and Rupert were good friends, which wasn’t going to help her situation. In fact, Sissy thought Rupert and his wife could walk on water.

“Does it matter how I found out?”

“No,” she said, stifling a sigh. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

“What if I found you another part-time job? Would you be interested?”

Brittany suppressed her sudden excitement. “What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing yet.” He paused with a chuckle. “But with my connections, I’m sure I could come up with something more suitable.”

“That would be nice.” Brittany paused, then added, “You know where to find me.”

His eyes probed. “That I do.”

She averted her gaze, shielding herself from the intensity she saw there, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth. If he could wangle her another job, she would be forever grateful. Standing on her feet into the wee hours of the morning was not something she looked forward to, nor was putting up with obnoxious customers and their rudeness.

“So, about your brother…”

Brittany gave an audible sigh. “Nothing’s changed. He still maintains his innocence, and he’s still begging me to get him out.”

“I’m willing to help you out there, too, you know. Only you’ve never given me the green light.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t understand why you’d want to.” She knew her words sounded much more suspicious than she’d intended, but she hadn’t done anything special for this man, which made his sudden generosity a bit suspicious.

Rupert shrugged and smiled. “Let’s just say I have the connections and like to help where I can. Besides, Sissy tells me how hard you’re working to get your degree, and how tough it is.”

“It has been hard, but that’s the only way I can help Tommy.”

“We’ll talk more about that later,” Rupert said, turning to the waiter, who was hovering, and ordering a mixed drink.

He hadn’t stopped with one, either. By the time they left the restaurant, Brittany could have sworn he was drunk, though his actions never confirmed that, not even when he got behind the wheel.

Only after they had been driving for a while and he pulled off the road did she grow alarmed. And she’d had reason, because he’d immediately reached for her and begun kissing her, hard and deep, trying to force his tongue into her mouth, while running his hands up her legs to her panties.

“No!” she cried, desperately trying to push him away.

But he was too strong and determined. When she wouldn’t comply, he’d slapped her. The more she’d struggled, the more violent he’d become, until she blacked out.

The next thing she remembered was being shoved out of his car onto the side of the highway, cold rain assaulting her bruised body.

Suddenly Brittany pulled herself into a fetal position on the bed and sobbed quietly into the pillow. If the stranger in the other room hadn’t come along, she shuddered to think what would have happened to her. She couldn’t have walked much longer. Worse, some other sick, violent person could have come along and finished her off.

Still, she hated the thought that she was at another man’s mercy. For all she knew, he could turn out to be worse than Rupert. Her instincts resisted that thought, though. She barely remembered what her rescuer looked like, but she sensed he would never hurt a woman.

The way he’d touched her had told her that.

Brittany’s breath caught as she thought about how she’d inhaled the subtle yet expensive scent of his cologne, how manly he’d smelled. But it was the way his hands had felt on her bare flesh that lingered. Stop it, she told herself, panicking. The fact that he would never touch her again was what was important.

As soon as she got up and dressed, she could return home, she assured herself. She could escape from this nightmare, then figure out how best to put herself and her life back together. No matter what Collier Smith advised, she had no intention of reporting Rupert to the police for fear of repercussions, both professionally and emotionally.

She had no confidence in the justice system, especially against an adversary like Rupert Holt. Who would believe a nobody like her, whose brother was a jailbird?

What about Tommy? Another hard shudder went through her, and Brittany panicked. She was due to visit him in a couple of days, on Sunday, but she couldn’t go with her face all bruised.

Suddenly she wished she could get her hands on Rupert, first for hurting her and second for dashing her hopes of getting help for Tommy. Every time she visited him in that awful place, her heart broke anew.

What a difference there was between her circumstances and those of the man who had helped her. From what little she had noticed of her surroundings, it was obvious he was someone of means, the complete opposite from her. She and Tommy had been left to fend for themselves after the death of their mother when they both were young. Her drunken stepfather and Tommy’s father had contributed little to their upbringing; most of the time they hadn’t even known where he was.

Brittany had struggled all her life to get where she was today, which still wasn’t where she wanted to be. At thirty, she was still trying to get her degree so that she could become financially secure, something she had never known. After that, she would like nothing better than to flee her hometown and live somewhere else. Anywhere else.

But leaving Chaney wasn’t an option, not until she was able to hire an attorney and start working to get Tommy released from prison.

Because of her brother’s one terrible error in judgment, she might as well wear a scarlet letter on her chest. Even though the accident had happened three years ago, she was still shunned and talked about. Long before the mishap, her family was considered trailer park trash. Now she had no chance of earning anyone’s respect in the town where she’d grown up.

The fact that Tommy was in prison would never be laid to rest, especially since he had permanently injured the son of the town’s most prestigious family.

Yet Brittany loved her brother and felt responsible for him, though she definitely saw his faults. He’d caused her more than her share of heartache during his teenage years, even joining a gang for a short time and getting arrested, though she’d believed him when he told her someone had set him up in order to get even with him. Still, it was the accident that had done the real damage.

Following the accident, they had hauled him down to the police station, since he hadn’t had a scratch on him. Once there, Tommy had called her almost in hysterics. Clamping down on her own hysteria, she had gone to him immediately. She never would forget the desperate look on her brother’s face when she’d walked into police headquarters.

“Sis,” he’d told her, “I swear I didn’t know my head wasn’t clear when I left the party.”

“Come on, Tommy, surely you felt something.”

“Not until I turned onto the highway, then, wham, it hit me. Suddenly I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing.” He paused, his voice cracking when he spoke again. “Hell, I don’t even remember hitting the guy’s car. My drink was doctored. I know it was. Someone’s out to get me.”

“Tommy—”

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, grabbing her hands and clinging to them. “I know I’ve been in my share of trouble, but you know I’ve never driven drunk. You know that.”