DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters.

Chapter Nine

Brenda slowly opened the door to her suite. Brady was downstairs getting them some food. All she wanted to do was take off shoes and soak in the bath for hours. She let the door close behind her but didn't even bother to turn on any lights. The moonlight was bright enough for her. She stepped into the bedroom and removed her shoes, setting them at the end of the bed and within moments had slipped out of her skirt and top, standing in the middle of the room in only a lacy bra and matching black silk panties. She let her hair down and sighed as she approached the dresser and emptied the contents of the envelope once again.

How can you hate and love one person so much at the same time?

She walked out of the room and over to the mini bar, pouring another drink and finishing half of it in one swallow.

"You should stop drinking," he said, causing her to jump and goose bumps to crawl across her skin.

Brenda slowly turned and faced the voice. Jason was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, staring at her. She leaned against the bar, one hand on either side of her, all exposed and unashamed.

"It's not very nice breaking into people's rooms. I could have shot you," she said barely above a whisper.

"We need to talk," Jason said, trying not to let the fact that she was nearly naked affect his thoughts.

"What do you want to talk about? The weather?"

"Johnny Zacchara."

"Who?" Brenda asked casually.

"Don't play dumb with me. I saw you two tonight in the bar. He had his hands all over you," Jason said standing up and approaching her.

"He did not."

"So you admit you were with him?"

"It's not what you think …" Brenda started, but Jason held up his hand.

"Put on some clothes because we're leaving here right now," he demanded.

"I can't leave. I have an obligation to be here. This is what I do," she said.

"I don't care. You're leaving with me tonight if I have to drag you out kicking and screaming. Which I think the press will love," he pointed out.

"I'd like to see you try," Brenda said closing the distance between them. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, accompanied with her deep breathing and perfume. She was daring him to try something, daring him to take a risk. He knew that she would put up a fight because she always did and for all he knew Zacchara was nearby to save her.

"You're drunk," he pointed out before stepping away.

"Your loss," she said before turning and swaying back into the bedroom.

He was standing by the windows when she walked back out semi-clothed. This time in a short black skirt and leather jacket, what she had underneath he didn't even want to know. She was doing this on purpose. She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail and pulled on a pair of nearly knee high black boots. She carried a messenger bag but that was it.

"Get the rest of your stuff."

"Brady will take care of it. I won't be gone long," she pointed out.

"Don't be so sure," he replied.

Brenda didn't wait for him as she walked out of the hotel room. He barely caught the door before it closed. She was leaning against the elevator ankles crossed when he walked up.

"You sure picked a good day to try and be a hero," she muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as they stepped onto the waiting elevator. She just smiled at him.

A group of teenage girls got on at the next floor and giggling with embarrassment turned to Brenda.

"Can we have your autograph?" one of them finally asked.

"Of course," she said taking a pen from one of them and signing the pieces of paper each of them had in their hands. After a few minutes they finally reached the lobby and Brenda took a deep breath before stepping out the elevator. She was walking faster than he anticipated and when he finally turned the corner to catch up with him she was surrounded by paparazzi.

"Ms. Barrett, how is life in New York?"

"Is this your permanent residence?"

"What caused the break-up?"

"How has the accident changed you?"

"Rumor is your father is actually alive?"

"No comment," Brenda kept repeating as she slowly made her way through the crowd. Jason was at her side the moment some nosy photographer slipped his hand up her skirt. Brenda turned to the man but Jason was already there with him pressed up against the wall.

"If you touch her again I'll kill you," he hissed before letting go of the guy, grabbed Brenda's hand and quickly led her through the crowd and into a restricted area leading to the parking garage. Jason's bike was already sitting and waiting there. He probably paid some kid a hefty amount to let him leave it there for a set amount of time.

"You okay?" Jason asked finally as she willingly pulled on the helmet and slid onto the bike while he secured the messenger bag on the back. She didn't respond which only pissed him off more. He slid on the bike in front of her and she reluctantly slid her arms around his waist. His hand accidentally grazed her thigh and he felt her tense up. This was going to be a great trip home.