Acting Brave (Fenbrook Academy #3) (53 page)

***

I got a cab back to my apartment. On the way, I called Charlie C. As I’d hoped, he’d pulled his regular night shift.

“Do me a favor,” I said. “Give me an address.” And I told him Tyler’s name.

I heard him sipping coffee, then a flurry of keystrokes. He read out an address in one of the nicer parts of the East Village. “Promise me you’re not going to do anything dumb,” he said.

“Thanks, Charlie,” I said, and hung up. I couldn’t promise anything. I had no idea what I was going to do when I came face to face with Tyler. If he really had slept with her….

***

I picked up my car and drove straight to Tyler’s address. A nice apartment. Nicer than most actors would be able to afford on their own.

It was the early hours by the time I hammered on the door, but I’d gone too far to turn back down. “NYPD!” I yelled. Which was sort of true.

After a few minutes, the door opened. A pissed-off looking Tyler stood there, in just a pair of jockey shorts.

“I’m here about Jasmine,” I said stiffly. Already, my fists were bunching...but it was different, now. The anger wasn’t being magnified by the all-consuming rage at Hux’s death. It was just good old-fashioned jealousy. Healthy anger.

He crossed his arms. “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he said.

He was stonewalling me. Why? If they were together, why not just admit it? “I know you slept with her,” I said. “I just want to know if it’s over.”

Was that—had I seen a flicker there? A blink of surprise? He was a damn good actor, but I was a good cop. Something wasn’t right.

“It’s none of your business,” he said, and started to close the door.

I stuck my foot between it and the frame. I was sick of being lied to.

He tried to force the door closed. I kept my foot in place, staring him out. But he glared back at me just as determinedly. It made no sense. If he was sleeping with her, why not just say so? If he wasn’t, then why be so mysterious about it? Why not just tell me he wasn’t?

I heard movement in the next room—the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking. “Is it really the cops?” came a voice.

A
male
voice.

“Stay there!” snapped Tyler, glancing off in the direction of the bedroom. But then the other guy was there, also in just a pair of shorts. He glared suspiciously at me and put a protective arm around Tyler’s shoulders.

Tyler shook it off. “I work with him, you moron!” he snapped at the other guy.

And suddenly, it all made sense. Why he’d been so cagey. Why he’d been so obviously into Jasmine from the very beginning, and so hostile toward me. It had all been an act. Convince everyone you’re trying to get into an actress’s pants and no one will suspect what’s really going on.

He was one hell of an actor. Clearly, even Jasmine hadn’t realized, or she wouldn’t have picked him as her stooge.

I raised my hands in apology. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Forget it. You just answered my question.” And I started to walk off down the hall.

Seconds later, Tyler caught up with me. He’d thrown on a pair of jeans but was still topless. He still looked pissed off, but the fake hostility was gone. And the anger was mixed in with fear. “Hey!” He grabbed my shoulder. “Look: no one can find out. Okay?” He searched my face, trying to gauge whether he could trust me. “You get more parts,” he said wretchedly, “if they think you’re straight.”

I shook my head. “No one’s going to hear it from me,” I said. “But...you really want to live like this? Lying to everybody?”

“It’s a living,” he said darkly.

“Yeah. But it’s no way to live.”

***

Back in my car, I sat and thought. She’d made up the affair to break up with me. Now I had to figure out why. I could confront her, but she’d just lie to me again. I had to figure this out on my own, and only go to her when I knew what the hell was going on.

Was it something I’d done? I hadn’t seen her since that morning, and we’d been happy, then. I tried to remember what she’d said when I woke up. She’d been worried that she seemed like a different person. I thought of how she looked, sometimes. How she
did
look different, smaller and more vulnerable. Whenever she thought about her past.

What would someone do, if they had something really bad they needed to leave behind?

They’d run away.

They’d become another person.

I slammed the car into gear and headed for the police station.

***

It felt wrong, typing Jasmine’s name into the police computer. But if she was in trouble, finding out what was really going on was the only way I could help her.

Her record was completely clean...but it only started about three years before. There was a note attached to the file warning that she’d changed her name.

Jasmine wasn’t Jasmine.

I felt a sudden rush of anger at being lied to. Why hadn’t she been straight with me? And then, almost immediately, the anger twisted and turned, finding its rightful target. What bastards had hurt her and scared her so badly that she needed to hide like this? That she’d created a whole new life and buried the old one?

I clicked on the name change and an error message popped up. The records were sealed by the court. Now the anger changed to fear. She’d been worried that her past was going to catch up with her.

What if it finally had?

***

Dawn was breaking over the city when I reached Jasmine’s building. I hammered on her door, presuming I’d have to wake her. But when she opened the door, it was obvious she hadn’t slept at all.

She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt—not her usual sort of outfit. And my guts twisted when I saw the fresh burn mark on her cheek, just below her eye. But neither of those were what made her look different. It was something in the way she held herself. Jasmine was smaller than me, but she had presence—she strutted like she was ten feet tall. This woman in front of me looked tiny. She looked broken. The need to just scoop her up into my arms and pull her close was overwhelming.

So that’s exactly what I did. I pushed straight in through the door and lifted her off the floor, one arm under her ass and one across her back, and pressed her against me.

She went stiff in my arms. “Wait! I told you—”

“I know, Jasmine. I know that’s not really your name. I know you didn’t really sleep with Tyler. I know you’re running from someone.” I felt her stiffen even more against me. “Now if you want to break up with me—fine. You can do that. But not until I know what’s going on and know you’re okay.”

She was breathing fast, now, her face against my chest. Not trying to escape but not talking, either. It felt as if she was trying to decide. I loosened my hug enough that I could look her in the eye. “Because you’re not, are you? You’re not okay at all.”

She shook her head slowly. “I can’t—Ryan, I can’t—”

“Yes you can.”

Again she shook her head. “If I tell you, you won’t—” She swallowed. “You won’t want to be with me. That’s why I had to—”

I gripped her tight. “There is
nothing
that can have happened to you,
nothing
you can have done that could stop me loving you.” I searched her face. “Don’t you know that by now?”

A single tear escaped her eye. She twisted away from me. “You say that but….”

She was going to send me away, break up with me because she couldn’t risk telling me the truth. I had to convince her, now, or lose her forever.

I brought her back to face me. “Jasmine, I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. You’re the one thing—the
only
thing—that’s important to me anymore. Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you. Whatever you need to do, I’ll support you. Don’t shut me out. Not now.”

Silent tears were trickling down her cheeks. I could see the battle going on inside her.

“My name’s not Jasmine,” she said at last, her voice raw with emotion. “It’s Emma.”

Chapter 65

Jasmine

I sat Ryan down on the couch in the living room, sat beside him and then, suddenly, I couldn’t talk. The words just stuck like glue in my throat and I could only stare at him helplessly.

He just nodded once, his gorgeous face so brooding and solemn I thought my heart would break. Then he did the last thing I expected. He put his hands around my waist and pulled me into his lap, facing away from him. He crossed my arms over my chest and wrapped his arms around them, so I was double-cuddled. It wasn’t a sexual embrace, even though I could feel the hard lines of his muscles pressing against me. It was the ultimate in comforting hugs. I could hear his breathing behind me, feel his reassuring presence all around me but, crucially, I wasn’t looking at him. I could talk and it was almost as if I was only talking to myself.

There’s a reason they have a screen in a confessional booth.

I started at the beginning, with my dad. My childhood in Chicago. My mom dying. I told him about a life of petty crime and I could imagine him thinking of all the times I’d lied to him, all the times I’d let him think I was a wide-eyed innocent when, really, I’d been around criminals far more than he had.
He’s going to hate me,
I thought.

But I kept going. The room was still dim, and that made it easier. I watched the windows slowly fill with the light of dawn and I told him about my dad’s drinking and the corrupt cops on his payroll and the money lending.

I told him about my rape and his arms tightened around me, going hard as steel. I could feel the rage building and building inside him, his breathing becoming low growls.
I’m disgusting,
I thought.
Tainted. He’s not going to want me anymore.

But then his embrace softened and he cradled me against him, drawing my head back until he could kiss my wet cheek, and then he rested his face against mine and just held me there, silently.

“Do you still love me?” I choked out.

“I love you more than ever.”

Fresh tears started rolling down my cheeks, but with them came words. I was crying the past out of me.

I told him about how I’d thought about killing myself, and how I’d known it was going to happen again. And then I reached the part about Oaks, the cop. His murder, and my part of it.

“I should have gone to the police,” I said in a strangled voice. “Years ago. I let him get away with it.”

“He would have killed you,” said Ryan without hesitation. “It wasn’t the time, then.”

I told him about my dad showing up and I felt him go tense with rage again. “He was
here?!”
he asked disbelievingly.

I nodded. I knew exactly what he was thinking:
I would have killed him for you.

I described how my dad had threatened me—and him. “He knows about you,” I said. “He must have got it out of Nick.” I felt sick, thinking about what he must have done to my brother during those two long nights. “If I testify, he’ll kill you.”

“Not if I kill him first,” said Ryan savagely.

I shook my head and told him about the investigation, and how my dad had taken Nick with him. “He’s in custody, now,” I said. “And I have no idea what he’s done with Nick. He must have stashed him somewhere, probably shot up with drugs. Without Nick, I’m the only witness.” I told him about how I’d lied to the detectives. And then that was everything. All my lies had been exposed and I was sitting there in his lap, the soft light of dawn painting me in golds and oranges where there’d been only darkness before.

He lifted me off his lap and turned me to face him. My eyes were red from tears and my cheeks were wet all the way down to my neck. I could barely meet his eyes. I couldn’t bear to see the pain I’d caused by lying to him for so long, or the rage at how I’d let a cop killer go free for so long, and how I was letting him get away again, now.

But all that I could see in his eyes...was love.

He leaned forward and kissed each cheek in turn, kissing away my tears. “You didn’t do a
thing
wrong,” he told me. “You survived. You did what you had to do.” There were tears in his own eyes. “It would be
impossible
for me to stop loving you.”

And then I was throwing my arms around him and hugging him close, wracking sobs of relief shaking my whole body. The tears were still going when I kissed him, a long, deep, healing kiss that gradually slowed our breathing and gave us strength.

It was a long time before he spoke. “Emma,” he said, his voice tight, “You have to decide what to do. I’ll be here for you no matter what. If you testify, you don’t have to worry about me. I can look after myself.”

I thought of Oaks. “He had a family,” I said in a small voice. “They never even knew what happened to him, until they found the body. He just disappeared one day and left them all.”

Ryan nodded slowly. I knew he was thinking about Hux because I was thinking the same thing.