BreakMeIn by Sara Brookes Page A

the time people accused her of not asking for
help because of her determination to exist on her own. Growing up as she had, with
her parents more interested in fixing other people’s problems instead of their
own, she’d been forced to only count on herself.
    Shutting off the lights, she set the sophisticated alarm
system and locked the heavy-duty industrial door. As she dug out her car keys
she remembered she’d parked a few blocks away to hide her vehicle from sight.
    She wasn’t dressed for the hike.
    She bent over to unzip her boots. The corset binding her
torso creaked as she moved. Ugh. Sometimes these things were more trouble than
they were worth. But damn if she didn’t enjoy being laced into one. It was
nearly an orgasmic experience all by itself. Like a pair of strong, comforting
arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her in an embrace that wouldn’t end.
    The things she did for a little thrill.
    Pretty much the only action she was getting lately thanks to
the incident at the club. And wasn’t that just the saddest damn story of them
all. Her. Elena Mitchell. Wallowing over the fact she hadn’t gotten anyone off
recently.
    She was treading very close to pity-party territory.
    A loud whoop echoed off the surrounding buildings. Couple of
fools out for the night, not done with their partying. Stupid tourists. She
hoped they skied off the side of the mountain tomorrow. Shaking her head, she
turned the corner and ran smack into a solid male chest.
    Dade caught her arm as she wobbled. “Steady there. You drink
too much at your own party?”
    “Just clumsy. And tired.” She sniffed, wrinkling her nose at
the overwhelming stench of smoke and liquor emitting from his leather jacket. “Brogans?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Explains where you disappeared to.”
    “Met Alex there for a few drinks.”
    Another loud shout echoed off the building. Peeking over
Dade’s shoulder, she saw Alex stumbling down the street using anything he could
find to help his forward motion. “More than a few it seems.”
    “He seemed to be overdue to blow off a little steam. He kept
eye-fucking Anne while she worked, but when she cleaned up after him a few
times when he got sloppy, pretty much shot that plan to shit. Figured Patrick’s
place is closer than his since I don’t have a vehicle with me. Thought I’d drop
him there to let him sleep it off.”
    Alex launched into an off-key rendition of Queen’s We Are
The Champions .
    If he hadn’t been so stinking drunk, she might have laughed
at the picture he made stumbling down the street, butchering the words to the
song. This was getting to be a pattern with Alex. A pattern she didn’t like. “I
don’t have Patrick’s house keys with me right now. Doubt he does either, or
could even pause in his opera long enough to tell you.”
    A car alarm pierced the cold night. They turned to see Alex
standing on the roof of a car, his hand down his pants as he grabbed his crotch
and started shouting about his desperate desire to fuck anything with two legs.
His explicit ranting was interspersed with the lyrics of The Time Warp from The Rocky Horror Picture Show .
    When he started to thrust his hips wildly she and Dade both
snorted. “Dr. Frank N. Furter he is not. And he is obviously not a quiet drunk.”
    “Going to be hurting in the morning. Which reminds me…” She
glanced at her watch. “He needs to open Perfect Shot in a few hours. Think you
can help me get him there?”
    * * * * *
    Elena leaned against the office door. Sometime in the past
hour Alex had pushed away the blanket she’d covered him with. His gaunt form
was exposed to her critical gaze. She frowned at the outline of his bones under
the surface of his nearly translucent skin. He hadn’t been taking care of
himself for the past year, perhaps even longer. His once muscular form had lost
shape and definition. He was lanky to the point of sickness.
    It was as though he’d given up. As though he’d shut down
completely