The Price of Friendship
by Tarlan
Pairing: Brett Halsey, The Hat Squad
Rated: T for some mild sexual content and violence.
Author's Notes: Many, many Thanks to Aqualegia for her suggestions and support [vbg] 25th June 2002
Disclaimer: Brett Halsey and other characters from The Hat Squad belong to somebody else. No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you haven't heard of before, are all mine but feel free to make use of them.
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Flashing lights and the throbbing beat of the latest sounds drifted through the ceiling to echo around the spacious office, the softer lights that flickered and flashed around him enhanced the slightly muted sound, giving the impression of having his own private club far away from the heaving masses. He looked along the small bank of monitors. Outside there was a queue of people who were eager to be inside Club X, wanting to be a part of the new party scene but Brett's interest in them was for more than just the ego trip of knowing his club was the place to be seen tonight. He grinned up into the monitor when he saw two pretty girls sweep past the queue, one blonde, one brunette, and then past the bouncer with friendly greetings. He'd been waiting for Lisa to arrive, eager to show her all he had accomplished as he brought his dream of owning a successful nightclub to fruition. With a light step and an even lighter heart, he stepped into the ancient elevator. It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to climb the two floors to the club, and he drummed his fingers impatiently, stabbing at the buttons in the hope that it would make a difference. The elevator door opened in the private area behind the bar that almost circled the pulsing center of the club.
His head bartender and right hand man, Tony, had planned to work the end of the bar closest to the entrance so he could see who came in. Brett knew Tony would catch Lisa's eye immediately, and that she would make her way across to him to say 'hello'. Although easier to walk the perimeter behind the bar staff, Brett felt the urge to join the close press of hot bodies and to pass through the crowd that rocked, without awareness, to the rhythmic beat of the pulsing music.
As he pushed his way through the laughing clientele, Brett paused to watch one girl as she gyrated seductively, her finger beckoning to him. She was beautiful, and hot, her curly brown hair fanning out behind her as she twisted and rocked. She was bare at the midriff, a jewel sparkling at her navel, but his eyes were drawn to her swaying hips. He wrapped his arm around her slim waist, body moving rhythmically against hers as he kissed her slender neck, and then he pushed away. Moving onwards through the crowd as he spotted the girl he really wanted to be partying with tonight.
Lisa was standing at the bar with her best friend by her side, as always, but Jennifer had a knack of knowing when to make herself scarce. He barely spared her a glance as Jennifer danced off in the arms of another man, his attention caught by the beautiful, slender blonde. Tony acknowledged him with a wide grin as Brett insinuated himself between Lisa and the next client pushed up against the bar. He raised his voice above the level of the music.
"Come down and see my new office."
"Are you going to behave yourself."
Her eyes sparkled and Brett could see she had already downed several glasses of wine in the very short time since she arrived. Her eyes swept over him and she licked her lips in eager anticipation of his answer.
"No."
He grinned at the pleasure that leapt into her bright blue eyes. Tonight he wanted to party with her alone for a while, to ease some of the sexual tension that thrummed through his body along with the throbbing beat of the music. He could already feel her in his arms, her perfect, soft flesh sliding against his as he took her. Her pert nipples hard as he sucked and flicked at the sensitive flesh. She would moan in that delicious way of hers, a low, throaty sound that would send more pleasure tingling through him as he brought her to orgasm. Then he would climb those same heights, emptying himself inside her young and beautiful body.
With a last happy glance towards Tony, catching the laughter in his friend's eyes, Brett caught her hand and tugged her through the throng of dancing and laughing clubbers, drawing her back across the dance floor to the privacy behind the furthest part of the bar. Impatiently, he stabbed at the 'call' button to summon the elevator; quickly pushing her inside and claiming her delicious mouth in a passionate kiss even before the door had fully closed. This time the door reopened all too soon, catching him unawares while he was lost in her welcoming kiss with one firm breast cupped into the palm of his hand as he rubbed across the already passion-tightened nipple.
Brett pulled away from her quickly, managing to get an arm between the sliding door and the wall of the elevator, swearing softly under his breath as the expected action never happened. Instead of reopening, the elevator trapped his arm, and he stabbed the 'open door' button several times before the door recognised the command and slid back. Laughing softly, they made their way out onto the balcony overlooking his office but Lisa held up the near-empty wine bottle. He sent her down the short corridor to fetch another bottle from the wine cabinet at the end and then he walked down the short staircase into the office area. He grinned as he planned the next hour, imagining them swaying and writhing in time to the muted beat from above, their naked bodies glistening and reflecting the flickering lights as he slowly made love to her.
He stopped just shy of his desk, grinning at his good fortune, and froze as the leather chair slowly turned to face him.
"How the hell are you doing, man?"
Brett looked on in shocked dismay as Andrew McCauley grinned maniacally up at him, once more regretting his impulsiveness in borrowing money from the man, but he'd been so keen to realise his dream at the time. Initially, he had approached Jasper Investments but soon discovered that Alan Jasper and Andrew McCauley were one and the same person. He'd learned too late how unstable McCauley was, and had hoped the man would be too caught up in his other money lending schemes to spare him any attention until the club had made enough profit for him to pay back the loan.
"How did you get in here?"
"Backstage pass." McCauley leered at him and Brett realised that McCauley must have gotten hold of a spare set of keys to the private outside access to the office. Silently, Brett promised he would find out which of his people was also in McCauley's employ.
"Party's on but you didn't call."
Brett thought about the crowds trying to get into the club on its opening night and then looked at McCauley. By rights he ought to have extended a personal invitation to McCauley but he had wanted to keep the man as far away from him as possible. McCauley was a certified lunatic, dressed, this time, as a rock star with a hairpiece to match. The shaggy, long-haired wig formed an almost black halo around his head and he was clad in a leather vest, open to expose his hairless chest, and a pair of tight leather pants. His strange attire was at total odds to the people partying in Club X above their heads but then, McCauley was flamboyantly eccentric, and he liked to be the center of attention wherever he went.
"You didn't snort up all the profits?"
Brett tightened his lips against a retort, resenting the accusation that he'd stooped to the level of a coke-head when he had spent every single cent of both his and McCauley's money on the club. Also, this was the club's opening night. Until now there had been no profits, and it might be several weeks before Club X showed sufficient profit to start paying off McCauley. But McCauley knew this so Brett wondered what the real reason for this visit might be. Since borrowing the large sum of money from McCauley, Brett had heard rumours of beatings perpetrated by McCauley for non-payment of debts and, suddenly, he wondered if they had truly been late in repaying or if McCauley had made an unreasonable demand on them.
"I'll pay you what I owe you."
As far as Brett was concerned, his borrowing from McCauley had all been above-board. It was a legal investment, with McCauley - as Alan Jasper - listed as a silent partner until the agreed upon debt had been repaid in a timely fashion. Asking for full repayment of the debt on the night the club opened was neither timely nor reasonable, and McCauley would be thrown out of court if he took that route. Then it occurred to Brett that the money might have little relevance to a multi-millionaire like McCauley beyond providing the psychotic man with a reason for slaking that violent side of his nature.
McCauley was on his feet, stalking towards him but Brett stood his ground and threatened to take this to the Police. McCauley's punch was sudden, taking him unawares and he tumbled backwards across a glass table, landing awkwardly on the floor beyond. Brett pulled out the gun he carried, slowly standing, aiming it at McCauley but hesitating to pull the trigger despite the insanity gleaming in the dark eyes.
There was a flash of movement, and then pain. The gun slipped from his,suddenly useless fingers and he crumpled, shocked by the way the floor seemed to rise up to meet him. McCauley started half-reciting, half-singing some lines that seemed to come from a Gilbert and Sullivan opera, and dimly Brett thought he heard a scream but the world was growing darker around him with every thought, collapsing upon the incredible pain radiating out from his chest.
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He wasn't sure how long he lay there, curled up on the floor, too shocked to move as meaningless noises tumbled around him: a man yelling in pain, Lisa screaming, and then Tony poised above him calling to him with an urgency he'd rarely heard in the normally unflappable man. All he could see was the fear and concern in his friend's dark eyes as Tony tried to reassure him that everything would be all right. It was all so surreal. The sounds were hollow, the lights changing so slowly, and the music seemed to drum to the sluggish beat of his heart. More people arrived but they moved as if caught in a strobe light, or in a film being reeled with alternate frames missing. Their movements were jerky, their words stuttering and he cried out feebly as they pressed on his chest before rolling him onto a stretcher. Red and white flashing lights replaced those in his office while white and blue clad strangers talked in meaningless phrases above him and to him. He thought he heard his name several times and tried to speak but the incredible pain held him so tightly, making every breath pure agony so he breathed rapidly, shallowly, feeling the rising panic as his heart skipped and fluttered in his chest.
"Need... stay... us."
"...Brett..."
"...you... stay... Soon... there.
Where? He thought. Soon where? A bubble of panic filled him, creeping through his mind and he heard a low keening wail of fear, then caught himself when he recognised his own voice.
"Soon... hold on."
Bright lights racing over his head... green clad men and women gathered around him... and pain. Excruciating pain as they touched him. Searing pain as they cut away his clothing. His hand moved sluggishly, wanting to take away the pressure on his chest -- in his chest -- but his fingers were grabbed and held. Beyond him he could see those green-clad people gathered around another bed, like looking into a mirror. Or was it a mirror? He felt his heart fluttering again as if fighting to beat, and then darkness worked in from the edge of his vision once more, forcing him downa long tunnel until he heard a long beep followed by muted shouts as they pushed and pulled at his body. But Brett was no longer there; no longer able to feel either the tightness in his chest or the terrible pain that radiated out to every nerve ending in his body.
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"Sgt Smithson." The Police officer introduced himself to the harassed and fatigued doctor who came out of the emergency room. "There was a knife attack victim brought in about ten minutes ago." The doctor stared at the police officer and shook his head.
"Sorry. He didn't make it."
Smithson nodded and let the doctor go and then he pulled out his radio and called it in. Attempted murder had just been upgraded to homicide and they needed to get a detective on the case immediately. An APB had already gone out on the last person to be seen with Halsey but, by the time Smithson reached his patrol car, Lisa Kemper had been apprehended balancing on the handrail of the road bridge spanning the icy waters of the rushing river.
When he reached the police station, detectives had already been assigned to the case, and Smithson gave a grim smile of respect when he learned it had been given to the three adopted brothers who called themselves The Hat Squad. He watched as Detective Matt Matheson led the young, pretty blonde into an interview room and then turned to his own men.
"She the killer?"
"Witness... least that's what she states. Seems she knows Det. Matheson from the past... apparently he used to baby-sit her." De Sanzo leered along with Smithson, neither of them able to shake the image of Matheson babysitting the leggy, beautiful blonde sister to the famous Kimberley Kemper.
"Lucky dog."
"Well, maybe not so lucky now."
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Rafael, Mike and Matt, known collectively as The Hat Squad, looked over the information gathered. According to Lisa Kemper, she had witnessed the final part of the exchange between Halsey and his killer. When questioned she recalled hearing references to money owed and had then seen the man throw the knife that ended Halsey's life. Her information provided a strong lead and they quickly saw a link between four brutal beatings and Brett Halsey. All five had borrowed from a company called Jasper Investments. When the first four either couldn't or wouldn't pay back their loan they had received a personal visit from Alan Jasper who took a lot of pleasure in showing them the consequences of not paying him back in a timely fashion. However, none of the four would press charges against Alan Jasper, but now it seemed that Jasper's violence had escalated from beatings to murder.
Unfortunately, Alan Jasper did not exist on any database, but then there were plenty of lucrative loan shark businesses run under aliases. However Lisa had seen the killer up close when he tried to silence her too. She had shaken in fear when she told them how the elevator door wouldn't close, and how she had bitten deep into the man's hand to force him away. However, by doing so she had bought herself enough time to escape from him.
The three brothers parted company, knowing there was not much more they could do until the offices of Jasper Investments opened in the morning, agreeing to meet outside the premises at nine o'clock the following day. In the meantime, Matt drew the short straw and was assigned to watch over the seemingly obnoxious Lisa Kemper while his adopted brothers took the evening off. He drove downtown, deciding to use the Orpheum Theater as a safe house just in case the elusive Alan Jasper decided to hunt down and silence the only witness to the murder of Brett Halsey.
Matt sat down on a seat a few rows back from Lisa, and he stared at the pretty girl.
"How well did you know Halsey?"
"He was a good friend... and a lover."
"Did you love him?"
"No... not really... though it would have been easy to love him. He was fun... he was nice... and he was great in bed."
Matt reddened slightly in embarrassment, still seeing the quiet, nave twelve year old Lisa Kemper rather than this worldly-wise eighteen-going-on-thirty year old woman. Like her sister, Kimberley, she was beautiful. Tall, slim, blonde-haired, blue-eyed but it was there that the resemblance ended. Her famous sister seemed to have the world at her feet; money, fame, a marriage to Mr. Right and the adoration of her parents while Lisa looked like she was in the gutter looking up. It was hard to believe that she had been in rehab twice already in her short life -- for alcohol and drug abuse. He recalled her parents and he wondered at their dismay at seeing one of their precious daughters fall into such disgrace. They were good people though, and if they were truly estranged from their daughter then it would not have been through their own choice.
The rest of the night passed slowly and he watched as she curled up to sleep on a makeshift bed, quietly passing over watch duty to Mike without disturbing the exhausted girl. They had assigned Sgt. McKay to take over in the morning while they visited Jasper Investments and, secretly, he hoped she would not prove to be any trouble while they were gone.
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By nine-fifteen the lead through Jasper Investments had come to a seeming dead-end as they discovered that Alan Jasper made contact with his receptionist by twice daily phone calls. She had never once seen the man she worked for, but as long as the pay check came in each week then she was more than happy to overlook the strangeness of this arrangement. They took a business card and returned to their own office with more questions than answers knowing that they would need to find much stronger evidence linking Jasper to Halsey before they could gain a court order to check the phone records. Even so, the likelihood was that the phone calls would come from a different location each time to obscure any trail to the elusive owner, Alan Jasper.
Knowing that Lisa Kemper's life might be on the line, Matt decided to cut the red tape and he requested the records, surprised when the regular twice-daily phone call was listed as coming from the same telephone each time; the McCauley estate. The recently deceased, Mason McCauley, had built his fortune on the manufacture and promotion of men's toiletries, especially shaving blades and foams. On his death, following a boating accident, the business had been passed onto his wife and would, eventually, be inherited by their only son, Andrew McCauley.
"I say we go visit the McCauleys."
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By ten-fifteen, Andrew McCauley was in custody and lined up while Lisa gazed through the one-way glass in the hope of identifying the murderer of Brett Halsey. They had brought him in because of his attitude, lack of alibi, and because of the bandage around his right hand that he claimed had been the result of a diving accident. If they could get Lisa to pick him out from the line-up then they would have the authority to have a police surgeon take a look at the hand to check if McCauley had been lying.
Despite the radical change in his appearance, she picked him out from the line-up; the well-remembered smirk twisting his lips giving him away. However, his lawyer had him released on a technicality -- the illegally gained phone records -- and they had no choice but to watch as McCauley walked free but, in that time, all three had become convinced, not only of the man's guilt, but of his insanity too. They had more than enough reason to believe that McCauley was a dangerous man; a man who had used his position, money and power to buy his way out of any trouble... until now. And they knew it was only a matter of time before they found more evidence against him, and with this in mind, Mike picked up the phone to call the police pathologist. They needed his report to see if there was any DNA evidence or prints lifted from the knife that killed Halsey.
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"What d'you mean he's not dead? We're working on a homicide... HIS homicide. Yeah... TWO? Okay... yes... okay. But can you keep a lid on this?... Okay."
Mike replaced the phone in its cradle and stared at Rafael and Matt, and it was Rafael who broke the silence.
"What is it?"
"There were two knife victims last night. One made it, one didn't. Seems we've been investigating the wrong homicide."
Matt looked across in shock as he recalled Lisa's description of the murder and the weapon used. As Halsey had still been alive when the paramedics got to him, he had been transported to hospital immediately, and so none of them had seen the murder victim, or even the murder scene as yet.
"I thought he had a huge knife sticking out of his chest?"
"He did... and they almost lost him several times both before and during surgery. He's still listed as critical and they say it'll be touch and go for the next few days if he'll make it or not."
"So who died?" asked Rafael
"A Stuart Lessing... gang fight."
"We gonna drop this?"
Matt frowned as he asked his question, knowing from their brief meeting with Andrew McCauley that this would make little difference to the unstable man. Unlike with his previous four victims, this was no simple beating that could be hidden away from the media, and as there was no guarantee that Halsey would live it made sense to carry on protecting their only witness.
Witnesses, Matt corrected himself, realising that they now had Halsey to protect as well.
"No. Even if Halsey makes it then McCauley would still go to prison... and my betting is he won't wanna do ten minutes inside, let alone ten years."
Rafael sat down on the desk and stared at his adopted brothers. "How we gonna protect two of them?"
"Who knows Halsey's still alive?" Matt asked.
"The pathologist, the hospital, his mother... and his bartender, Tony Lau."
"Can we get them to sit on this? Give us time to flush McCauley out?" Matt looked questioningly at the other two.
"I asked the pathologist, and he says there's no mention of Halsey on his reports so there won't be any problems there. The hospital isn't in the habit of releasing press statements on patients due to doctor-patient confidentiality. Only one who made a mistake was Smithson for asking the wrong doctor about the condition of his patient."
"That just leaves family and this Tony Lau." Matt took on a faraway look as he considered the logistics. "If they agree to this then as long as McCauley believes Halsey's dead then he won't go after him."
"What about the others?" Mike indicated beyond the walls of the office to the precinct beyond.
"All we gotta do is keep Halsey's condition secret until we can bring in McCauley." Rafael looked from one brother to the other, seeing agreement in their eyes.
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Tony sipped at the lukewarm coffee and then rubbed his tired eyes. It had been five days since the attack on his best friend. Five days where he had worked all night to keep the heart of Club X beating, taking on the combined duties of manager and head bartender.
Brett had talked about McCauley, and Tony had warned him how big a mistake he had made in getting involved with the eccentric multi-millionaire. As he gazed down at his heavily bandaged friend, no longer hearing the ever-present beep of the heart monitor or the mechanic whoosh of the machine that kept Brett breathing, Tony knew that Brett had already paid for that mistake. All Tony could do now was make sure that all this had not been for nothing. He would keep the club afloat so Brett still had his dream to come back to.
For the hundredth time he recalled the horror of finding Brett in his office that night.
He had taken the stretch of bar closest to the entrance to the club for a good reason. It was easier to keep an eye on who was coming and going, and to spot potential troublemakers before they had a chance to cause problems. He had spotted Lisa and her friend, Jennifer, entering that night, and had beckoned her over.
Lisa and Jennifer had been regulars when Tony and Brett worked for Big Al at the Cornucopia, and Brett had been so full of himself when he gave Tony all the lurid details after sleeping with Lisa. Tony knew it was lust at first sight, but he knew it would never be more than that. Cynically, he knew Lisa was too immature, and far too caught up in her own self-destructive vendetta against a 'cruel world' that had given her sister everything and her nothing. Her self-deception would have bored Brett eventually, and then annoyed him as she compared him to her sister's Mr. Perfect and found him wanting.
Tony snorted in derision. Maybe Brett wasn't a big film star, or a famous rock star, but he was a decent man and a good friend, and that had to count for something.
When Brett took Lisa downstairs Tony didn't expect to see either of them for at least an hour so it surprised him to see Lisa pushing her way towards the exit barely minutes later. Her face was ashen, her eyes glazed with fear and shock, and Tony recalled sweeping his own gaze back through the crowds in search of Brett. With a gnawing sensation churning in his gut, he told Greg to cover his stretch of bar and quickly made his way downstairs, hating every moment that he was stuck in the antiquated elevator.
He called for Brett, his fear rising when he gained no answer, and then he saw him lying on the floor, curled up with the knife sticking through his chest. The rest was a blur. He remembered fumbling for the telephone, and calling 911, then sitting beside Brett, trying to reassure him that everything was going to be okay even as the fear rose up and tried to choke him. By the time the paramedics had taken Brett away he had been too numb to even notice his blood soaked clothing until a Police officer -- Smithson -- had pointed it out to him. And all the time his mind was reeling from the shock that Lisa Kemper might have been the one who had knifed Brett.
Somehow he had managed to convince the Police to let the club stay open while their forensic team went over the office looking for evidence. He had already told them about Lisa Kemper, and pointed them to the locked door leading out into the back alley. They could come and go as they pleased through there without anyone else being any the wiser. However, when he unlocked the door it had struck him as odd that the double lock was not engaged, as if someone had left quickly, slamming the door behind them but failing to use their key to ensure it was secure. The Police had thought that worthy of note too.
Tony took another sip of the lukewarm coffee and grimaced, placing it down on the small table behind him. His thoughts returned to that fateful night.
He had planned to leave everything in the hands of their chief bouncer but, by the time the Police had finished interviewing him, Brett's mother had called to say Brett had been rushed into surgery and wouldn't be out for several hours. For a moment he had been torn between a desire to race over to the hospital and sit vigil with Brett's mother, and the need to stay and keep Brett's dream alive.
If Brett's mother had been alone then there would have been no contest, but she had her new husband by her side so he stayed until the Club X door had shut behind the last of the revellers. Then he had showered quickly to remove the smell of cigarette and alcohol clinging to his sweaty clothes before joining Brett's mother and stepfather in the waiting room.
Tony looked down at his hands, still seeing the blood that had coated them. Brett's blood. When he did manage to catch a few hours sleep, his nightmares were of finding Brett... so much blood.
He groaned softly and stretched to ease the kink from his neck, then fumbled in his pocket for a packet of painkillers. The headache was a much from stress as from lack of sleep. He'd fired Greg earlier that day having discovered that McCauley had paid Greg handsomely for a set of keys to the downstairs access.
At least McCauley was no longer a threat. The detectives that everyone called The Hat Squad had arrested him and charged him with the murder of Jennifer Collier, and with the attempted murder of Brett Halsey and Lisa Kemper.
Still might be two murders, he thought grimly, though each passing hour gave Brett a better chance of survival.
"You just hang on there, Brett. You still got a dream waiting for you."
Tony gave a wry grin. They both had the same dream, of owning a successful nightclub, but Brett had reached his first, at least that is what they had both believed until four days ago. Tony knew he could have done the same, raised the cash to realise his dream too but Brett had offered him the deputy manager position in Club X. Letting his own dream fade to the background was a small price to pay for the friendship he had with Brett.
He shut his tired eyes, shuddering at the blood-filled image that leapt up behind the closed lids, and opened them quickly. The reassuring beep of the monitor caught at him, and the steady whoosh of the breathing equipment, and he closed his eyes once more and let those sounds lull him into a fitful doze.
A hand touching his shoulder brought him awake with a gasp, and Tony looked up into equally tired green eyes that were so similar to Brett's.
"My turn now. Why don't you go get some rest, Tony."
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He awoke to an incredible pain that seemed to ripple through to every part of him... but the remembered sharpness was missing. Instead it was a low ache that pulsed with the beat of his still laboring heart. Above his head he could see a plastic bag filled with a transparent liquid and his eyes followed the line down from it where it seemed to pass into the flesh of his arm. He swallowed around the strange and uncomfortable lump in his throat, feeling a tightness around his mouth, panic rising as the fear of suffocating overcame him... but he stilled as a warm hand brushed across his forehead.
"Brett?"
Brett stared up into green eyes so similar to his own, and tried to talk around the uncomfortable lump in his throat.
"Ssshhh... don't try to talk just yet. You have a tube thing down your throat to help you breathe."
Brett moved his unfocussed gaze away from the familiar face and scanned the nondescript room, seeing the utilitarian beige that was a hallmark of hospital rooms everywhere. As if to provide additional proof, a nurse entered. She greeted him warmly before checking a bank of equipment, patting his arm gently before departing.
Brett turned his attention back to his mother, seeing the dark circles under her tear-filled eyes. He wanted to know what had happened to him, wanted to know why he was lying here with this terrible tightness and dull ache in his chest. He frowned trying to recall his last sight before waking up here. Little by little, the fragmented picture pieced together. It was the opening night of his club... and Lisa had been there; pretty, sexy Lisa. He remembered trapping his arm in the elevator door.
Where had he been going? Had Lisa been with him?
The office. He'd taken Lisa down to the office, planning to seduce her... but someone else had been there.
Brett gasped around the tube in his throat, the pain rushing in to overwhelm him as his heart beat faster. A buzzer sounded close by and, suddenly, his mother was standing over him again, her slim hands upon his shoulders, her green eyes holding his.
"It's all right, Brett. It's all right, honey. You're safe now. I'm here and I won't let anyone hurt you again, baby."
A doctor rushed in with a nurse, and moments later, his vision tunneled as he slipped back into the welcoming darkness.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Brett looked out across the club at the laughing and dancing people, barely able to accept that he had opened his club seven weeks ago and yet this was only the second time that he'd been able to enjoy the party scene. Tony had taken up the reins after the knifing, keeping both the staff and the clients happy, and Brett realised that he owed him everything.
If Tony hadn't been watching out for him that fatal night then who knows how long he would have lain in the office before someone eventually found him. An hour... two..? Or maybe no one would have gone looking for him until the following evening. Even an hour would have been too long... and too late for him. Instead he was alive and though still in plenty of pain, eventually he would recover from his injuries.
It was still hard to believe that he could have suffered such a deep wound and lived to talk about it especially as the large- bladed knife had nicked his heart, seriously impairing its ability to pump blood around his body.
He thought for a moment of the other kid who'd been brought into the ER at the same time as him and with similar knife injuries. Part of him had thought he was looking into a mirror as the doctors and nurses fought to save each of them but the knife in Stuart Lessing's chest had severed the main artery and punctured a lung. The kid had, literally, drowned in his own blood. The difference of less than an inch had determined that he lived and the other kid died, and Brett felt a pang of guilt that he had been the one to survive even as he rejoiced.
Tony had come to the hospital every morning since the knifing, at first just to sit with him while he was in a coma, and then to keep him apprised of Club business once he was well enough to understand what was going on around him. Of Lisa there had been no sign, but the detective who interviewed him a few weeks back mentioned that she'd left the party scene altogether and had started to rebuild a new life for herself with her once estranged parents and sister. He still felt a deep regret for Jennifer. She had been an innocent person dragged into this whole sordid affair and paying for it with her life. Brett could only be grateful that the courts had not been swayed by McCauley's money and power, knowing it would be many years before McCauley was deemed fit to walk among free people again.
Brett pursed his lips as he stared across the busy club. He'd spent the past two weeks thinking hard about the club and had finally decided that he needed a partner to help him run the place but, this time, it would be no silent partner like McCauley.
In the past weeks he'd found plenty of time to stop and think, and he'd come to realise that there were more important things in life than money; and things that money could never buy. Friends, for instance... and for all his wealth and power, McCauley had none.
Brett recalled the years he had known Tony, working side by side as bartenders while he saved his money in the hope of realising his dream of owning his own successful nightclub. It was a dream they had both shared. If it hadn't been for a good friend then he would be lying in his grave right now. If it hadn't been for that same true friend then he would have had nothing to come back to. Tony had saved both his life *and* his business, wanting nothing in return but a continuation of their friendship. It was a humbling thought.
He raised a hand and waved as Tony finally noticed his presence on the far side of the room, seeing the happy, welcoming grin he gained in response. With a grin of his own, Brett felt his impatience rise. He thought about the partnership papers his lawyers had drawn up; papers that were sitting on the desk in his office beneath the club.
All at once, he realised how much he was looking forward to the end of the night and, with a small chuckle he imagined the shocked look that would appear on Tony's face when he asked him to sign them.
He grinned again. Money couldn't buy the close friendship he had with Tony... but Brett hoped that by giving Tony half of everything he owned he could show him just how much he valued and appreciated that friendship. It was a price he would pay without a second thought though it pained him that he had not considered it before.
With a last glance at Tony, Brett stared back at the dancing and laughing people, and realised how easily he could have felt alone in such a crowd if he hadn't got a friend like Tony.
The End
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