for all your help tonight.” She hesitated as if wanting to say more, but she only opened the door and stepped inside. Behind her, smoke filled the room, thick and cloying. Three people, two men and a woman, sprawled across the mismatched furniture. Hip-hop came from a stereo on top of a plastic crate doing duty as a coffee table.
When the smoke hit Jesse, she went white then green.
With a bravery that told him of the effort it cost her, she lifted her chin and said goodbye.
“I won’t forget what you did for me. Have a nice life.”
Brock made it all the way back to the top of the stairs before his conscience got the better of him. Perhaps his memories of Sherry made him more sensitive tonight, but he couldn’t leave Jesse to deal with that crowd alone.
If he’d listened to his gut and his brother sixteen years ago, he wouldn’t have destroyed the most important things in his life. In one fell swoop he lost his fiancée, his future and his family’s respect.
The thought of spending the next six months haunted by Jesse’s courageous brown eyes turned Brock around. Determined strides carried him back to apartment 2B. He knocked, then stepped inside. The three in the living room looked at him with dazed disinterest.
“Hey, man.” A limp young man with greasy brown hair roused enough to notice Brock. “You bring any with you?”
Brock ignored him, convinced he’d done the right thing in coming back for Jesse. He headed for the hall and the bedrooms figuring she’d go straight to bed. A movement to the left drew his attention. She sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.
She looked up when he stopped beside her. The fire of anger burned through the tears pooled in her whiskey-bright eyes. “Someone’s in my bed.”
He hunkered down to her level and ran a soothing hand over her thick amber hair. “Which room is yours?”
“The one on the right.”
“Get your purse and jacket. I’ll be right back.” He pushed to his feet.
She grabbed his wrist. “Brock, it’s okay.”
He gently pried her fingers free and placed her hand on the table. “No, it’s not. You’d better get what you need from the bathroom, as well. I’m taking you to my place for the night. I have an extra room in my condo. You can stay there.”
In the hall, too grand a name for the four-foot-long space, he flipped open the door on the right and flicked on the lights. On the bed a man and woman sprang apart.
“Hey,” the man yelped in outrage. “Get out. This room is occupied.”
The woman grabbed the sheet to cover herself. The man yanked a pillow into his lap.
“Not anymore,” Brock told him in the tone he reserved for raw recruits, sparing a glance for the woman. “Get dressed and get out. This room doesn’t belong to you.”
“Tracy said we could use it.” The man muttered belligerently.
“Tracy doesn’t pay the rent for this room. Jesse does. Do you have Jesse’s permission to be here? No. So get dressed and leave. Now.”
The couple glared at him, making no move to follow his directive. Brock put them from his mind. He went to the closet and pulled out a sport duffel. Going to the bureau, he filled the bag with the essentials he thought Jesse would need for the night.
He returned to the kitchen where she waited. She had her purse in her lap, her coat over her arm and a cosmetic bag on the table next to her.
“Ready?” he asked, reaching for her coat to help her into it.
Behind him the man and woman exited Jesse’s room, went to the front door and left. Brock ignored them and the dark looks they sent his way.
Jesse watched them go, her total lack of expression telling him the extent of her weariness. “They’re gone. I don’t have to go now.”
Funny, she didn’t sound relieved. Then he saw her glance distastefully down the hall toward her room. Obviously, she found the thought of sleeping in a bed recently used for recreational purposes less than appealing.
It didn’t matter. No way he was leaving her here.
“Can you walk or should I carry you?”
“You’ve already done too much,” she protested. Pride showed in the lift of her chin even as tear-heavy brown eyes pleaded with him.
But pleaded for what? Did she want him to leave her alone or insist on her compliance? She sadly overestimated his stamina if she thought he had the ability, or patience, to read minds at this time of night.
“Jesse,” a shrill voice called above the music. “Who is this guy? Where’s Tad?”
Brock turned his attention to the living area where the washed-out blond woman perched on the edge of a brown plaid couch. He met her suspicious gaze impassively. Finally, a show of concern on Jesse’s behalf. He’d begun to wonder if she had anyone who cared about her, who’d be there to help her through a difficult pregnancy.
Maybe she did just want him to leave.
“My roommate, Tracy,” Jesse told him and then raised her voice to say, “Tad’s gone.”
The woman frowned. She reached out and turned off the stereo. Blessed silence followed.
“What did you say?” Her shrill attitude made him wish for the music back. “Where’s Tad?”
“Gone,” Jesse informed her flatly. “He left.”
“Left where?” Tracy demanded. She licked her lips. “He usually brings the beer. Why are you home so early, anyway? I figured you’d taken a second shift.”
So much for the roommate’s concern.
“And what?” Jesse demanded. “You decided to throw a party?” The bite in the question didn’t quite disguise the underlying disillusionment. “You told me this morning you were going to work a second shift to pay back the money you borrowed for the rent.”
Tracy answered with a dismissive shrug. “There’s plenty of time to make that up before rent is due again.”
During all he’d seen her go through tonight, Jesse had lifted that delicate chin and kept on going. Now, for the first time, defeat stole the life from her expression.
He reached for her as her strength gave out and she went limp in his arms.
She looked up as if seeking reassurance from him. Then she blinked and the hope disappeared. “Please take me away from here.”
That’s all he needed to hear. He hooked the shoulder strap of her sport bag over his shoulder, then thrust her purse and cosmetic bag into her hands. But she stopped him when he would have swept her into his arms.
“I’m walking out of here on my own steam.”
“Let’s
