“I didn’t do it,” he says to both Caleb and her. He doesn’t meet their eyes.
Her heart sinks.
When she heard about the ‘rape’ yesterday, she couldn’t believe her ears. “What?”
“I know,” Caleb says soberly. “I didn’t believe it myself either.”
“Brian would never rape someone.”
“That’s supposed to be my line.”
“I mean,” Sam is so indignant that she has difficulty forming her words, “he doesn’t have to!”
“You’re preaching to the choir.”
Cassie’s mouth is sewn up in a tight purse. Then she speaks, “How much do you really know about him anyway, Sam?”
“Oh come on,” Caleb says. “I know you don’t like him – ”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Oh yes, you did. Every chance you got, you took a dig at him, Cass. I mean, he’s my best friend. What do you want me to say or do? Agree on anything that you say about him?”
“You’ve defended him from day one, Caleb, and I’m just saying he’s not exactly the kind of friend who always has your best interests at heart. He’s selfish, egoistical, narcissistic, and I’m sorry you can’t see it.”
“You don’t know anything about Brian.” Caleb raises his voice. “So stop judging him.”
“OK, that’s enough.” Sam physically steps in between them and pushes them apart. Her face is flushed and she’s panting slightly. “The two of you arguing is not going to help Brian one bit. I know Brian much better than you, Cass, and I say he’s not capable of raping anyone.”
Hurting them emotionally is another matter, but now is the time not to bring that up.
“So why is this woman accusing him of rape?” Cassie demands. “There’s never smoke without fire.”
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s a misunderstanding. But whatever it is, Brian didn’t intentionally do it.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am sure.”
That was yesterday. Today, the situation has calmed down somewhat. Caleb has managed to talk Cassie into staying away, which didn’t require that much effort.
Brian hugs Caleb next. “Thanks for bailing me out.”
“Hey, it’s your money. I only made a couple of phone calls.”
“It was more than a few phone calls, Cal, and you know it.”
“I did it so you’ll never bring up the incident of the under-aged hooker again.”
Brian laughs.
Sam smiles. It’s good to see him recover his spirits . . . slightly.
“So do I get to go home, or are the CSI still dusting the place for fingerprints and blood spatter?’ Brian says.
“They’ve finished,” Caleb says. He puts his arm around the taller man’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
*
Brian’s lounge is a mess. The police have left everything the way it was, and their shoes have trampled everything they can possibly trample outside the ‘ring of investigation’. Sam takes in the broken glass table, the sprawled lampstand and the shredded curtains. The silk bathrobe has been appropriated by the police for evidence.
She frowns. She can’t yet put her finger on it, but something about this whole scenario feels forced.
Call it a woman’s intuition.
Scratch that. Call it the intuition of someone who loves Brian.
“Want us to help you clean up?” Caleb says.
“No. Leave it. I want to . . . remember.” Brian flattens his mouth.
“But you can’t remember what happened. That’s unusual in itself,” Caleb argues. “When you’re drunk, you pass out. But you’re never drunk after just two drinks. You sure you didn’t have a couple more?”
“No. I’m pretty sure.” Brian scrunches his forehead. “It’s just too convenient . . . why can’t I remember anything?”
From the look on his face, Sam can tell that they are not moving in the same thought lines. She’s suspicious for different reasons. This whole scenario seems premeditated. But Brian is distracted by something else.
Something a whole lot deeper and darker.
A strange frisson slides down her spine. Oh, Brian. She hates to see him like this – all cut up and confused and damaged. He seems to have lost his trademark confidence, and that pains her more than anything. A subdued Brian is cause for alarm.
Caleb says, “I’ve got to go pick up my Mom from the clinic.”
The Mom whose home you helped to save from being repossessed, he doesn’t add, but Sam knows the whole story. It was the night she rekindled their friendship after all, only they both didn’t know it yet.
“Thanks.” Brian thumps his best friend on the back.
Sam watches them, a little envious. Brian and Caleb are so good together. It would be criminal of Cassie to want to destroy those years of camaraderie. Not that she could, of course. Sam suspects that if push comes to shove and Cassie made Caleb choose between her and Brian, Caleb would drop her like a hot sack of guano.
Caleb leaves, and they are all alone in Brian’s apartment. Correction: not apartment, but palace. She has never really been comfortable in this place. It’s too big. Too cavernous. Too modern. They have made love in it many times, but the place still spooks her a little. As if the walls had eyes.
Maybe it had been premonition.
“You want me to stay with you tonight?” she says softly.
“No. I’ll be all right alone.” He stares at the ruins of his lounge’s seating area. She can sense he wants to desperately remember.
“But I want to stay with you,” she repeats.
He looks up. His eyes are weary and turbulent. He closes them momentarily and then opens them again. Even in his state, he’s beautiful. What sort of woman would claim that he would rape her? Of course, she knows that isn’t intellectually the case. Beautiful, successful men are perfectly capable of raping women. But she just can’t believe it of Brian.
She just can’t. And won’t.
She hears the sharp intake of his breath.
“Sam, you don’t have to stay with me if you don’t really want to,” he says guardedly. “You should be . . . more careful.”
“You mean I should be frightened of you now that someone has accused you of raping her?”
He flinches at the word.
“Yes, maybe you should.”