Getting the Edge: Betrayed Book 1 (2 page)

He knew damn well he looked different. He’d been a cop—and had looked his part. His hair had been closely cropped. Now, it hung well past his shoulders, but he’d discovered he kind of liked it long, and kept it tied back in a leather strip.

He rarely bothered shaving, and had a few days growth of beard—another drastic change for him.

Lastly, he knew he was damn pale, having little sun over the last year.

Hell, he thought in disgust, he looked like exactly what he was: an ex-con.

The day was sunny and warm—and too bright for someone not used to it. He cursed at his lack of sunglasses. But then, he hadn’t had sunglasses on when they’d slapped the cuffs on him, now had he? he thought bitterly.

Kevin’s Lincoln pulled up and Brandon forced a smile and tossed his bag in to the back seat, then climbed into the front. “Hey, thanks for coming after me, man. You didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense,” Kevin said. “You look good.”

Brandon gave a chuckle at that. He’d already had that discussion with himself. “Yeah. If you say so. So, I was hoping you’d bring my car. I was kind of hoping to drive it.”

“Your license isn’t expired?” Kevin asked.

Brandon shook his head. “I’d just had it renewed. At least you don’t lose your license when you’re a con.” He’d damn sure lost every other right. He wasn’t even allowed to vote anymore; having been convicted of a felony.

“Well, then, let’s go get your car. I had your house opened up for you,” Kevin said with a smile. “Thought you might appreciate sleeping in your own bed tonight.”

Brandon had no intention of staying in town long, but he couldn’t tell Kevin that. He knew Kevin would only try and talk him out of it. Brandon had served his full sentence; he wasn’t on parole. Still, as an officer of the court, he’d be legally bound to report his client’s intent if he’d planned on leaving to hunt Amanda. He wasn’t about to put him in that position—because he also knew Kevin would do no such thing. “Thanks.” Though, Kevin was right about one thing—it would be nice to stretch his long six-three frame in his king sized bed—even if it was only for a short while. “Appreciate it.”

There was a long moment of silence, and Brandon turned to look at him. “What?” he asked at last.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Kevin said quietly. “I really thought I’d be able to sort it out.”

Brandon knew his friend felt badly that the conviction had held. “It’s not your fault, Kevin. I know you did all you could. I’ll be fine. I was fine in there,” he said, pointing at the fence. “You know I was kept in protective custody. Thanks to you, I’m sure.”

Kevin sighed. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. Listen, let’s get out of here, okay? I’d really like a different view.”

With a nod, Kevin pulled away from the prison.

Brandon leaned back on the soft leather. “Got a spare pair of shades?”

“Sure, in the glove compartment. I always keep a spare pair in there somewhere.”

Brandon found the pair and slipped them on. “Thanks. Sun’s bright today.”

Neither mentioned that the sun wouldn’t have normally bothered him much. Brandon had always loved the sun. Watching the sun come up with Mandy had been…

No.

He forced himself not to think of the good times they’d shared. It had all been a lie. She’d been lying to him from the start.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Kevin finally spoke. “Brandon, what are you thinking? You’re not going after her, are you?”

Brandon smiled, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. “Now, Kevin, you know I’m not allowed to have any contact with Miss Wilson.”

Kevin shook his head, his brow furrowed. “Brandon, just let it go. I know you loved being a cop, but you can easily afford not to work—at least until you find what you want to do with your life now.”

Brandon looked at his life-long friend. He looked the part of the high class attorney. His brown hair was perfectly cut. His suit, Brandon knew, would have been tailored for him. He had a penchant for Italian leather shoes.

They had both grown up with money. Kevin had gone into law, and Brandon had been set to join him in law school, but after the death of his parents, had shifted to criminology instead. He wanted to stop the bad guys, not defend them or prosecute them. It had done nothing to diminish their friendship, though.

They were no longer as alike as they had once been. He was much more jaded now than he had been. Even his parents’ deaths hadn’t affected his general outlook on life as much as what Amanda Wilson had done.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Brandon. I don’t want to visit you behind bars again,” Kevin warned angrily.

“I won’t do anything stupid,” he promised. No, it wasn’t at all stupid to find out why the woman he’d loved and thought had loved him in return had destroyed his life. He was going to get back his good name. The career was gone now; but his name was something he’d damn well get back. “You have my word I won’t do anything stupid.”

Kevin visibly relaxed. “Good. So, what do you say we stop and get a bite to eat? I haven’t been to Russo’s in a while. Are you up for some Italian?”

“Sure,” Brandon said easily, though he certainly wasn’t dressed for a nice restaurant. “I could eat.” What he’d really wanted to eat more than anything was a huge Whopper or Big Mac, but he knew that Kevin was trying to help, and didn’t want to upset him.

As they rode, Brandon looked at the city it had once been his job to protect. He still loved this city. He’d be sad to leave it, but Amanda wasn’t here. He’d known she’d run, and she had. He’d considered having Kevin hire a PI to keep her tailed, but had decided against it.

He figured he’d find her on his own and keep Kevin out of it. The last thing he wanted to do was get him into trouble. He knew damn well that Kevin would have helped him whatever way he could—despite possible repercussions.

When they arrived at Russo’s, Kevin stopped at the valet stand. He absently tossed over his keys and held the door for Brandon.

“I’m not sure they’ll let me in,” Brandon said as they entered the dimly lit restaurant. “Don’t they still require a jacket here?”

“Oh hell,” Kevin said. “I forgot about that!”

The hostess came up to them with a smile. “I can loan you a jacket, sir,” she said brightly. “It’s not a problem at all.”

Kevin obviously came here often, Brandon mused as the pretty hostess handed him a black jacket. He slipped it on and smiled at the girl. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir. Would you follow me, please?”

Once they were seated, and their drink orders placed, Kevin leaned back in his chair. “So, what are your plans, Brandon? You must have thought about it.”

Brandon nodded. Oh yes, he’d thought about it. A lot. “I’m not sure yet, really. I suppose I’ll look for some kind of work. But not right away. I’m assuming I can afford to be picky?”

Kevin nodded. “Of course you can. There’s more than enough in your trust fund to support you. I made sure your finances were handled. I was rather surprised when that woman didn’t try a civil suit.”

Brandon hadn’t even considered that possibility. “Can she?”

Kevin nodded soberly. “I’m afraid so, and she could win it. Stay away from her, Brandon. She’s not worth it.”

That was debatable, but Brandon only nodded. “I know, Kevin. Quit worrying.”

“It’s my job to worry,” he muttered and took a drink of his gin.

Brandon had never been much of a drinker, but he’d ordered a scotch and water on the rocks anyway. It’d been two years, after all. He took a sip of his own drink, and winced. “Wow. I’d almost forgotten what alcohol tasted like.”

Kevin grinned. “You’ve always been more the beer type. I’m surprised he ordered that.”

Brandon shrugged. “Figured why not.”

When the server came, Brandon ordered steak. He just wasn’t in the mood for Italian, but he did want real meat. “Medium well,” he added. “With fries. Steak fries.” Man, how he’d longed for fries. He never had had the refined palate like Kevin.

Kevin ordered a steak as well, and when they were alone again, sighed. “I didn’t think. You’d have rather had McDonalds, wouldn’t you?”

Brandon grinned. “I don’t mind a good steak at all, Kevin. Quit worrying. I’m just glad to be free and to be sitting here with you.”

Kevin relaxed. “Man, it’s good to spend time with you again. I’ve missed you.”

“You saw me twice a week, Kevin,” he pointed out.

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

No, it hadn’t been the same at all, but he was still very thankful that Kevin had stood by him when no one else had. Kevin had always believed that he’d been innocent. He’d been the only one to believe him, unfortunately. He was glad his parents hadn’t lived to see him put in prison.

“What are you thinking?” Kevin asked quietly.

Brandon sighed. “I was thinking about Mom and Dad. I hate like hell that they died—but I’m glad they never had to see me in a cage.”

“They’d have stood by you, Brandon. You know that.”

“I know they would have—and it would have killed them to see me in there,” he said bitterly.

“It’s over, Brandon.”

That was just it—it wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot
.

Of course, he couldn’t say that to Kevin. “Yeah, it’s over.”

Chapter Three

Amanda couldn’t find the RA, and the Bursar’s office was no help at all. Apparently, at least for now, she’d have to deal with having a roommate.

She walked back down the crowded halls to her room. It was almost lunch time, and most of the students were between classes.

When she opened her room, she found Tracy sitting at her desk. “Um?”

Tracy turned in the chair with a smile. “Oh, you’re back! Did your class go well?”

“Sure,” she lied. “I see they brought you a bed.”

Apparently, there was enough room for two beds after all. A second twin bed had been placed next to the wall. Now, the two beds were shaped like an L in the room. The middle left little room for movement, but if she didn’t leave school, Amanda knew she could make-do.

“They just brought it. And I had my sheets and stuff in the car. I’m so excited to be here! I like being around people too much to have done classes online,” Tracy said happily. “I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your desk?”

“Uh, guess not. There isn’t room for two in here, so we can share it.” Mandy made a mental note to be sure she left nothing important in the room—not that she had anything that could be used against her in here, of course. “So, what’s your major?”

“I’m undecided. I’m just taking general courses this semester. I don’t have to declare a major until next year.”

“Oh.”

Tracy laughed. “You probably think I’m nuts, huh? But, I want to explore my options. The whole college experience. What are you majoring in?”

“Education,” Amanda said. “I think I’m going to teach.” If only, she added silently. Teachers were fingerprinted as part of background checks.

“Oh really! Wow. I always kind of thought teachers were underpaid and overworked.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that.” Amanda sat on her bed. “It’s just something that I’ve always wanted to do.” That was true, as far as it went. When she’d been in high school, she’d thought she would graduate, go to college and become a teacher. She’d wanted to take time to have fun first, though—so had put off applying. Then, her life had taken a turn that led to the nightmare she lived in now.

“So, they have a good program here at Vincent for that?” Tracy asked.

“Sure,” Amanda said. No, Vincent wasn’t one of the best schools, but it was one that was three states away from Brandon Walsh, which she hoped was far enough. “I like it here.”

“What do you do for fun here?”

Amanda didn’t know how to answer that. Of course, she didn’t go out and do much of anything. She forced a smile. “I’m not sure what the kids do around here. I know there are a few frats, so I’d guess there are a lot of parties. I pretty much concentrate on my studies.” That was true, she decided. No need to elaborate—not that she’d even consider it. Her life—and more importantly, Brandon’s—depended on her keeping her secret from everyone.

“Oh, I want to do the whole college scene,” Tracy insisted. “Drink too much. Study and pass my classes. Chase hot guys. Are there hot guys in the dorm?”

Vincent had co-ed dorms. Amanda wasn’t blind, and knew there were some guys around that most would consider ‘hot’. She was more into tall, dark, and clean-shaven cops. Or she had been. She hadn’t even looked at a man since Brandon. “Yeah, I guess.”

Tracy nodded sagely. “I take it you have a boyfriend?”

“No. Why would you think that?” Amanda asked quickly.

“Well, I think most college girls are looking, don’t you?”

Hell, she didn’t know what most college girls did. She wasn’t
most
college girls—and never would be. “I guess.”

Tracy’s eyes widened slightly. “It’s okay if you’re…um…not into guys.”

Amanda laughed. Tracy thought she was a lesbian? “I’m straight.”