Stark Raving Mad

By Vanessa M. Knight

Heartbreak and danger follow wherever she goes, but can his love save her before her past destroys their future?

Brooklyn Southby has everything she’s ever wanted—partnership in a law firm, a beautiful house in the suburbs, and a wonderful boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. Her heart troubles are the least of her problems, though, when her first case comes back to haunt her in the form of an angry, sadistic man with bad hair.

Joe Perretti deals with his own issues the only way he knows how—hiding behind his work. As a homicide detective with the Chicago Police Department, there’s never enough hours in the day for a social life or a woman, at least until he’s given the task of protecting Brooklyn Southby. Business and pleasure collide as his life becomes all about keeping her safe, whether she likes it or not.

Will they find love, or will they be destroyed by a man who is stark raving mad?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa M. Knight
• Release date: Mar 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9780997183887

Vanessa M. Knight

Vanessa M. Knight has always enjoyed writing, and once she found romance, she was addicted. She props her laptop in the suburbs of Chicago with her family and menagerie of four-pawed claw-babies (AKA cats and dogs.) That laptop has partnered-in-crime to write contemporary romances with a dash of humor and splash of snark.When she has a few moments to spare, you can find her singing off-key (but she assures everyone it’s still considered singing), reading, kickboxing or killing a few brain cells as she stares at the many sitcoms and dramas available through the Internet and TV.For more information on Vanessa, including her Internet haunts, contest updates, and details on her upcoming novels, please visit her website at www.vanessamknight.com.

Book preview

Prologue

Brook Southby sat on the worn wooden chair behind the defendant’s table. Nerves knotted and tugged at her stomach as she looked around the room and fought the urge to chew her almost nonexistent fingernails.

It was her first case. Every lawyer had one. Today was hers, and her nerves were shot.

Brook’s boss, Larry Bosk, sat next to her, calm and relaxed. Not a care in the world, with the exception of what lie he’d spew to his wife. Larry had some charity function tonight that he’d make an early appearance for, and then hightail it to some intern’s bed.

Dennis Maxwell Stark leaned over to Brook. Are you sure we should plead out? he whispered for the tenth time.

Air whistled through the gap in his teeth.

We’ve discussed this again and again, Larry snarled, looking at his watch. You plead guilty and you'll get three years. Without the deal, you're facing five to seven years for aggravated domestic battery and another year for violating the order of protection. It’s in your best interest.

Can you just stop talking? You're giving me a headache. Dennis ran rough fingers through his already scraggly brown hair, curling his knuckles when he reached the base of his skull. Fire burned in his widened eyes before he pulled back, his skinny shoulders slumping forward. I’ll only talk to her. Brooklyn, ma’am, I trust you. What should I do?

Brook’s eyes drifted from Larry to Dennis. This man’s life hung on the next words to come out of her mouth. Was it a good deal? Not really. But he did have priors, and this was serious—public intoxication, violating an order of protection, and aggravated battery. Larry had twenty years’ experience practicing law; she would be crazy not to follow his lead.

I mean, it’s only ag-bat ’cause she was pregnant. I’m sorry I got drunk. I didn’t mean to shove her. I was shoving her lowlife boyfriend, but she got in the way. I didn't even know she was pregnant. The lying whore didn't tell me she was changing the locks or sleeping with my best friend, why the hell would she tell me she was knocked up? Dennis’ head dropped again. Sorry for the language ma’am. I just get so, so mad.

Her fingers fidgeted into tangles as she said, I think you should listen to Larry. He set up this deal for you. You’re looking at three years and all of this will be over.

The oxygen in the courtroom thudded through her lungs as she waited. The judge’s seat was empty, but spectators swarmed the empty, dirty metal seats in the courtroom waiting for their own cases to be announced. Conversation stole the air from the room and all coherent thoughts from Brook’s mind.

She just needed this to be over.

They said that once your first case was over, the rest were a walk in the park. She didn’t know about that. She wasn’t a fan of walking in the park, but practicing law—she loved. She should be in her element, but she found she was too nervous to even enjoy it.

The judge walked in through the back door, and his robe swayed as he climbed the stairs to his bench. His eyes roamed over the room while he waited for the noise to go from deafening to low mumble. Apparently appeased, he banged the gavel. Next case.

The bailiff handed him the docket. Stark versus Delany.

The judge adjusted his glasses on his narrow nose as he scanned the paperwork before him. "Mister Stark, I see you have made a deal with the state’s attorney.

However, due to the nature of your crime, and the extent of your prior convictions, I am overruling the plea deal. He folded his hands and looked directly at Dennis, who was frozen in place. Mister Stark, I am sentencing you a full seven years for Aggravated Domestic Battery, with an additional one year for violating an order of protection."

Wait, no. Brook’s breathe caught in her throat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. Crap. Can he do that?

Larry sat back in his chair and shrugged. We took a calculated risk.

A calculated risk? He never said this was a risk. She never would have agreed if she’d known. She wouldn’t risk her client’s life, his freedom. He made a mistake, sure, but shutting this kid away for eight years because of one mistake… Who hadn’t made mistakes?

A loud bang resonated from judge’s gavel. Brook jumped in her seat and turned to Dennis.

"Fuck you. You did this to me. I’ll kill you!" Dennis lunged at her before two police officers in head-to-toe black, wearing bullet-proof vests, yanked him from the chair and shoved him into the hall.

Brook grabbed her paperwork, stuffed it into her briefcase, and followed them out. She had to explain, make him understand. She would fix it. She had to.

The hallway emptied as everyone headed out to lunch.

No Dennis. Where did they take him so quickly? A thump echoed from one of the interrogation rooms. She opened the door.

Dennis lay in a heap. Bloody nose, gashed lip.

Two cops stood over him. The burly one had his leg cocked back, ready to strike Dennis’ limp frame.

Disgust and anger surged through her veins and fought for dominance. Stop! Sickness rolled around her stomach.

One of the cops stepped forward. It’s under control. The other stepped back and wiped bloody knuckles on the side of his pants.

You call this control? He needs a doctor. Brook moved closer, but yappy-cop stepped in the way.

It’s under control.

Bullshit. I’m reporting you both. Hands shaking, she ripped a pen out of her bag and copied the numbers from the badges around their necks. The body on the floor moved. Oh, thank God. Dennis, are you okay?

He raised his head. Get out. Haven’t you done enough damage, you evil bitch? His head lolled back to the filthy tiles. I never want to see you again. I’ll never forget today. Never.

She walked out the door, a tear escaping her eye as she leaned against the cold brick wall. Her first case, her first loss, her first failure. She’d never let this happen again. She’d never be unprepared.

And, yeah, she’d never forget today, either.

Chapter One

Eight Years Later…

---

The towering buildings of the Chicago skyline twinkled against the dark city sky as Brooklyn Southby stared out the large wall of windows of her sister’s condo. She could almost get lost in the view. Almost. No matter how expansive the view of the city was, it couldn’t take away the day she’d had, the month. Nothing could fill that hole.

But the sparkle of the city over the inky-black lake soothed some of the ache, making her believe in possibilities and adventures and the future. Looking down from her high perch, she felt like she was staring out a window to her dreams.

Ugh. Window to her dreams… What a crock. She had everything she’d ever dreamed of. She was one of the youngest partners at the prestigious Biddle and Bosk law firm. She had wonderful friends and family. So why was she unhappy?

She took a sip of her second dry martini. The sips were getting longer and easier. She normally stuck to liquid of the non-alcoholic variety, but after today, she figured she deserved a real drink.

It’s not every day your boyfriend announces he’s moving out. Sadly, it had happened more often than she cared to admit.

But this time–this time was different. This time she thought it would last. Todd was her best friend—is her best friend.

Her hand pressed over her heart, the hole he’d left in her chest singed raw around the edges. Why did this hurt so damn much? Was it because she was losing her best friend, or because she was losing the man she loved? Probably both.

Dammit, though, she really hated losing her best friend.

But how do you stay friends after all the hurt?

The cityscape didn’t seem to hold the answer, so she turned to the party behind her, not that anyone here would have the answer. They were drinking to celebrate, not drinking to forget. Well-dressed customers and colleagues packed her sister Allison’s condo, talking everything from hospital advancements to jewelry, while Allison and her boyfriend, Adam Byrnes, worked the room.

After fifteen years at Byrnes and Company, Allison knew all about the wonderful world of jewelry and diamonds. She could talk cut, clarity, and carats with the best of them. Since tonight she was hosting a charity event for a hospital, she’d spent days learning hospital lingo. She was probably rocking those conversations, too.

Brook watched Allison’s dark-blonde hair flip back as she laughed at a joke. Her eyes met Brook’s, and she excused herself from the seemingly-transfixed men and women around her. Yep, she was rocking those conversations.

Allison expertly mingled her way to the windows and raised her glass to her sister. Brook raised her own cocktail glass, and they met with a distinctive clink.

How are things outside? All the buildings still standing? Allison asked.

Yes, smart-ass, the buildings are fine.

Where’s Todd the Bod?

Hell if I know. Brook rolled her eyes and gulped down most of her drink.

She had graduated to gulps—probably not the best idea.

Sounds like trouble in paradise. Everything okay?

Fine. Not fine, but this was so not the place for the Todd discussion.

This is you fine? Allison used her forefinger to scratch an eyebrow, her head cocked to the side. So you normally guzzle booze and glare at festive party-goers?

Brook turned and sipped, sipped, sipped the martini dry. She deserved a little credit; she wasn’t gulping anymore. But she did need another drink. A replacement stood at the bar halfway across the room, swarming with all the people getting their own fix. Damn.

A waiter walked by with a tray full of stemware. Wine. She hated to mix drinks. What was the saying? Liquor before wine, all is fine, wine before liquor, never sicker? Oh, hell, who knew? And right now, who cared?

Brook set her glass on the waiter’s tray and fumbled for a glass of wine. Allison exclaimed, Brook, you don’t drink. What the hell is this?

I had a bad day. Maybe I should just go home.

You mean drive? Allison’s eyes narrowed, lips curling into a scowl. Do you think I’d let you, after what happened to Mom and Dad? How can you even…do you even remember? I know what happened to Mom and Dad.

Allison knew what happened? Since when? How the hell did she find out?

Brook had never told anyone, not even the police.

"I can’t lose you to a drunk driver, like we lost them.

Stay here tonight." Allison pulled out the pleading eyes and hushed voice.

Her sister didn’t know. No one knew. No one could ever know what Brook had done. A drunk driver, yeah, that’s what killed them.

Brook, talk to me.

Talking, she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to go to bed, her own bed. Her perfectly comfortable bed calling to her from her perfectly silent house—but Allison would never let her leave, not now. She was in this for the long haul.

Brook sighed.

We can do this here, or I’ll drag you to the back hall,

Allison said. I’m not leaving you alone until you talk to me. Allison wouldn’t let up, would never let this go. Dammit.

In a courtroom, Brook had no problem arguing her point until the jury saw her side of things, but in her life, well, that was a whole other story. Maybe a person was only born with a certain amount of fight in them. Overworking and hiding her head was how she generally handled herself in the real world. And a battle with her sister was worse than an angry judge or whiny lawyer, any day of the week. Todd and I broke up. Oh no, when?

Three weeks ago. He’s moving out of the house tomorrow.

I’m just hearing about this now? Why didn’t you tell me? Allison rested a hand on Brook’s arm.

I thought we might work it out. She really did. When Todd had announced he wanted to take a break," Brook honestly thought he was just going through some work issues and they’d be back on track by the month’s end. Now they were on a track, all right—a track to separation.

I take it there’s no hope, huh?

No.

Then why did you bring him? We could have set you up with one of Adam’s friends if you didn’t want to come alone. Her voice rose in annoying excitement. His partner Marco’s kind of a player, or there’s Joe. Either could have been a fun distraction tonight, or for the next twenty years.

Just what Brook needed. A setup. Cops, right? I don’t want to be with a cop. I couldn’t watch them walk out the door every day, not knowing if they were going to come home.

Allison lifted her drink, and the smile on her lips dissolved into a frown.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s different with you and Adam. Brook wrapped her fingers around her sister’s hand. Allison didn’t need Brook’s baggage when it came to cops, especially when she was living with one. Adam’s a detective. He knows what he’s doing. Don’t listen to me. I’m just in a mood. Are you okay?

Yeah. Allison smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I know you worry about Adam and me, but don’t. I worry about him, but his job is as much a part of him as being a man. I’m coming to terms with it. She raised her glass to Brook, and this time the shadows were gone. I’m happy… Happier than I’ve been in a long time. I’m just worried about you.

I’m happy you’re happy. Brook stared out the window. I think there’s something wrong with me. I put myself out there, yet all I find are creeps and losers…or what’s worse, great guys who turn out to be homosexuals. What? Allison’s brow arched in confusion.

Oh yeah, did I bury the headline? Todd thinks he’s gay. Get out! Allison slapped a hand over her mouth.

Could you keep it down? I’d rather not have this announced to the world. He swears it has nothing to do with me, but…

But what? His preferences do have nothing to do with you.

I guess. It just seems like I suck at relationships.

"You’ll find someone. You just need to stop dating lawyers.

They’re a creepy bunch."

You know I’m a lawyer. Right? Brook continued after Allison nodded. Anyway, it’s easy for you to spout crap about finding someone, you’ve broken the Southby hex and found a good one. My love life is still cursed. Brook took a swig of wine. Today was starting to blur around the edges. Thank you, wine.

She took another swig. "My love life is cursed, like the Cubs…

It’s not fair. I never even pissed off any goats."

What about that time at the children’s zoo in Florida? That goat was pretty pissed at you. Didn’t it charge you and almost knock you on your ass? Allison actually giggled, not that Brook was all that surprised. When the petting-zoo catastrophe actually happened, Allison laughed so hard she actually threw up. She did make Brook a get-well card later that night, so Brook couldn’t help but forgive the hyena-terror.

That was a sheep. The goats were behind fences. She finished the rest of her wine just as the waiter passed nearby. She slid over, bumping into a female guest, and grabbed a flute of champagne.

Allison apologized to the woman and reached for the glass. I think you’ve had enough.

Brook curled a protective hand around her drink. No, sister dear, I’m just getting started. Hell, I deserve it. I make men gay now. She giggled. She made men gay. It was like her superpower: The Homo-Diverter. Diverting the eligible, gorgeous men of Chicago to alternate lifestyles. One man at a time.

That’s ridiculous. Men don’t just wake up one day and decide they like, um— you know—dick. Allison whispered the last word.

How do you know? Has it happened to you?

I don’t think I get the question, but I’m pretty sure I liked dick my whole life. Allison reached for Brook’s glass, apparently getting more comfortable with the use of that word.

Brook kept her glass close to her chest, out of Allison’s evil grasp, and took a long swig. She was going to forget the past month, even if it meant she cleaned the caterers out of booze.

She had a mission.

Adam smirked as he inched up behind the women. Wow, this conversation sounds fun. And to think I was wasting time talking about philanthropy.

Okay, so you can help us. You’re a guy. Allison tugged her boyfriend closer. Brook couldn’t help but wonder if she could sneak away and hide under one of the high-top tables. Maybe abscond with a bottle of wine, forget this conversation even existed—ah, heaven.

Last time I checked. His brows drew down as he took a sip of champagne.

Do men just decide to be gay because of a woman?

You are aware I’m straight, right?

I think you’ve proven that fact over and over, dear, just answer the question.

Allison nudged him

All right. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that it’s not something a woman evokes. Your preferences are something you’re born with. Why?

Todd’s gay, Allison announced.

Your Todd? He looked over at Todd in the crowd and

curled his lips. Yeah, I could see that.

Can we stop talking about this? I think I should just go home now. Brook pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to push the headache back. Todd can drive me. For now. They still shared a house. For now. Brook’s eyelids drooped. She was so damn tired.

Why is he here? Adam shared a look with Allison.

See, this is why Brook hadn’t wanted to tell them anything. She hated this question—it made her feel like such a failure. I didn’t want to come alone, and we’re still friends… She couldn’t even make a relationship with her best friend last. A new low.

Why be a beard? her darling sister asked.

Tears stung the back of her eyes. Was that all she was to Todd, a nice-looking beard? Some eye-candy for his arm to make everyone think he was straight? No, she was his best friend. She knew that.

Her temples pulsed, her head pounding as she tried to block out their rambling. She should never have said anything. What the heck was she thinking, telling them about Todd? His preferences had nothing to do with her, but that didn’t make the hurt go away.

She’d finally found a guy who wasn’t cheating on her, and wasn’t just looking for sex like a horny teenager. He listened to her, liked the same things, and he was…shit. She’d thought he’d loved her, respected her, and he did. They were the best of friends, but that was all she was. Just a friend.

She searched the room and found Todd. He met her eyes and smiled, really smiled. She missed that smile. He hadn’t smiled like that in so long. Some friend she was. She hadn’t noticed how sad he’d grown. He’d stopped working out. He’d stopped really laughing. Oh crap. Thank you for everything, sis. I’m going to go see how Todd is doing.

She ignored her sister’s stare and made her way past the bar-style tables wrapped in blue tablecloths to the front of the party. Drinks waited on the blue fabric as the suit and-tie-set joked and talked. The living room furniture that normally sat in the space was crammed in a bedroom for tonight. Tonight was about standing and drinking. Not always a great combination.

She passed a set of waiters and slid next to Todd. He was so damn hot with his short black hair, blue eyes, and fabulous body. This sucked. Hey. Are you about ready to go? She really needed to go.

He leaned in to put his arm on her shoulder and jerked back. Awkward. They didn’t even know how to act around each other anymore. For years they were friends, then lovers, but always together in some form. Now…

Hey, Brooks. Adrian, this is my best friend —there was that word again—"Brook, and this is Adrian, he’s an accountant with the Chicago Flurries. You know, the hockey team. He was just telling me about a fabulous party over at the

Underground. If you’re up for it. I thought we could go."

Both men looked at Brook with anticipation. She had no desire to go to the Underground or any other Chicago nightclub. She wanted to go home, drink some more, and pass out in her bed. She didn’t have the heart to burst Todd’s bubble.

Why don’t you go? Allison needs me to stay here and mingle.

I’ll stay, then. Todd brought his drink to his lips, but

Brook saw the disappointment cloud his eyes. He wanted this, and she was not in the business of cock-blocking her friends— not even her ex-boyfriend.

Actually… Allison asked me to stay and help clean up tonight. Why don’t you go to the party? I’m just going to spend the night here, anyway.

Are you sure? He looked her up and down.

She nodded and kept a smile riveted to her lips. If there was any wavering, Todd would stay. And, even though she wanted him to stay with her—wanted it more than her next glass of wine—she knew it wasn’t right. He deserved Hot-Gay- Flurries dude, and she deserved someone who loved her body as much as her mind.

Todd leaned in and kissed her cheek. Best friend ever. She was trying.

She watched the men walk toward the front door. Todd’s eyes never left the man next to him. He couldn’t even peel them away as he passed a gorgeous piece of testosterone walking through the door. Dark hair, tanned skin, five o’clock shadow that surrounded plump pink lips—he was downright edible.

Todd didn’t take so much as one glance. Damn. He must have it bad.

She didn’t have it in her to be mad at him anymore. She walked to the nearest waiter and downed another glass of wine.

Well, she might still have had it in her to be a little mad.

Chapter Two

Joe Perretti walked into Adam’s condo and tried hard not to grimace. He just didn’t belong here. White couches with fluffy green and pink pillows. Mahogany furniture pulled to the far right of the room to make room for standing-height tables. Vases that cost more than his house on the south side. Once upon a time, he might have been comfortable in this kind of setting, but he’d given all that up when his dad high-tailed it to Florida with his child-bride.

Being a Chicago detective didn’t help. He saw how both halves lived—like the methodical servers wandering the living room with their smiles locked in place. What did they think about the rich revelers who drank champagne and ate caviar while people outside the ivory