He drew in a breath, temper warring with pity. "Whatever you need, you've got my full support."
"Then you know someone?"
Unfortunately, he thought he did.
Chapter Nineteen
"You're sure nothing's bothering you?" Brooke frowned at Spencer, who had his hands locked on the ten and two position of her sky blue Mini Cooper's steering wheel. "You can't possibly be jealous of Parker. I told you, he's an old friend from high school. And only a casual friend, too. We never even dated."
Spencer had always had a little bit of a jealous streak--she knew that. In the past, it had tended to show up when they met friends from her old neighborhood. As in, guys with significantly more money and definitely more pedigree. But back then she could usually get him to admit it and then laugh it off.
Today, not so much, and it worried her. Especially since Parker was a total non-issue. He'd noticed her, they'd talked, he'd left. End of story.
And yet here was Spencer, an hour later, still all bent out of shape.
Either he had some other bone to pick with Parker, or Parker wasn't really the issue at all.
Brooke's money was on the latter. But the problem was that she didn't have a clue what was going on. And so far, Spencer wasn't talking. Instead, he seemed to be seething.
Frankly, enough was enough.
"Look, you know what? Drop me at home. You can keep the car for tonight. I'm not in the mood to deal with it or with you."
"I'm walking you in," he said, pulling into her driveway.
"Is that so? Are you leaving the attitude outside? Because if not, I think I can find my own damn door." Honestly, she wanted to cry. Which was stupid. This was just a dumb fight because Spencer got his hackles up about her talking to a gorgeous guy. Give it a day and it would fade away. It wasn't like they fought often, and in the grand scheme of things this was nothing.
Except it wasn't nothing. Because he wasn't talking.
And the silence was making her crazy.
He killed the engine, got out of the car, and headed to the front door. Which meant she either followed or slept in the car.
Fuck.
She followed, of course. And since he had a key to her place, he was already inside by the time she stepped into her foyer. "Enough," she called. "Tell me what's wrong or--"
"Tell me about this." He thrust a scarf at her. One that he'd used to bind her wrists just the other night.
She blinked up at him, confused.
"You said you trusted me." He waved the scarf in her face. "You had me tie your wrists so I'd know how deep your trust ran."
She felt her blood go cold. "Spencer," she said slowly. "What the hell is going on?"
He grabbed the scarf in the middle and actually ripped it in two. "Goddamn it, Brooke. You trust me with your most intimate emotions. With your fears. Your nightmares, but you don't trust me enough to tell me that the man who fucking
raped you was a friend of mine? Of ours? That Brian fucked you a thousand times worse than he screwed me?"
Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't even realize she was crying until she tasted the salt in the corners of her mouth. "What-- I mean, how--"
"He did the same thing to another girl. A woman who used to work for me. She came to me, told me because she was hoping I had evidence. She's pressing charges. I put the pieces together."
"I see." Since her knees were no longer working properly, she sank down onto the floor.
"You didn't trust me, Brooke." He held out the scarf. "This isn't trust. Not when you lie to me and tell me you don't know who did that to you. Not when it's a man we both once called a friend."
"No," she finally said, her voice steady. "I didn't tell you. Because I know you, Spencer. And if someone's fucking with your people, you're going to take action. And I couldn't lose you like that. You'd just told me that you wanted to put Brian in the ground after what he did to you. Do you think I don't know that you would do a thousand times worse for what he did to me?" A sob ripped out of her. "Do you think I wanted to see you arrested for assault? Or worse?"