by Susan Gable
The hard mileage life had dealt her showed.
Karma was one hell of a bitch. Served her right.
And yet, for the briefest moment, he wrestled with the urge to lift her from the chair onto his lap and wrap his arms around her.
For a while she’d been his second-best friend on the planet.
But that had been before she’d broken his brother’s heart while he’d been dying.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Are you sure you want to do this? We could ask Finn or Greg. Or one of the others.”
“Hell, no.” The stupid urge vanished, replaced once again with the bottled-up anger that had simmered for years. “I made a promise to Ian on his deathbed, remember? Oh, wait a minute. That’s right. You weren’t there, were you?”
A flicker of outrage animated her eyes for a split second. Then it went out, and she looked away from him, shoulders slumping, gathering the oversize purse on her lap into an odd embrace. “No,” she said softly. “And believe me, that’s something I’ll regret to my dying day.”
All the times he’d confronted her in his imagination, this wasn’t the response he’d pictured. “Why?” he demanded. “If we’re going to work together to help Nick, then I need to know why.”
She shrugged. “I was young. Barely eighteen. The man I loved, the wild, rowdy, bigger-than-life man who’d stolen my heart, was fading, inch by inch, in front of my eyes. I was scared. The idea of watching him die...” She raised her shoulders again, shaking her head so hard her chin-length, chocolate-brown hair flapped. “I ran. Not my finest moment.”
“No, it wasn’t. He loved you and Nick. More than anything.”
“I know.”
“You broke his heart.”
This time she whispered. “I know.”
“Did you know his last word was your name?”
Her repeat head shake was barely perceptible.
“Well, it was. ‘Take care of Nick and Ronni,’ he said. And I swore to him I would, even while I was cursing you left, right, and sidewise under my breath. Look at me,” he ordered.
Ronni lifted her face and her eyes glimmered. His chest tightened but he continued, “I hate you for that. What you did to him was inexcusable. He was scared, too.”
She nodded.
“He needed you. And you weren’t there for him.”
She nodded again. And part of him wished to hell she’d argue with him. Rant about how she’d been justified. Make lame-ass excuses, not like the things she’d said so far.
Because her quiet but obviously deep-felt pain was getting under his skin like a splinter.
And he couldn’t afford that.
Like a splinter, he needed to cut it out. Before it got infected. Before he got infected—caring again about the woman who’d taught him that it was better to beat a hasty exit before your heart got involved. Got shattered.
Once, he’d been jealous of what Ian and Ronni had shared. But in the end...
If that was what love got you, he wanted no part of it. Love ’em and leave ’em wanting more had worked just fine for him. He offered women thirty days of fun, romance and pleasure. Nothing more. They knew going in that it would end and when.
He cleared his throat. “We don’t have to be best pals this time around. Hell, we don’t even have to like each other.”
A jolt of shock registered in her face, and she leaned back a fraction of an inch, recoiling from his words.
“But we do have to work together. For Ian. For Nick.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
She slowly extended her own, and he took it, stunned by the tremors in it.
“Deal,” she said. “For Ian. But mostly...for Nick. I’d walk through fire for that boy. Hell, I’d dance with the devil himself.”
Hayden forced a roguish grin. “You don’t have to dance with the devil, darlin’. Just with me.”
CHAPTER TWO
LEAVING HIS MOTHER ALONE with Unk...probably not a good idea. Nick had seen the fire Unk had shot at his mother when he’d entered the probation office.
“We should get back,” Nick told Mandy. She’d escorted him to have his picture taken, and then turned him over to a male PO—probation officer—for his pee-in-a-cup, drug-test adventure.
Now she leaned against the wall, arms folded across her chest. “What’s the rush?”
Nick lifted one shoulder.
“What’s the story with those two, anyway?”
He didn’t answer.
“Talking’s not that hard, Nick. Pretty sure you’ve been doing it for years. Open your mouth, words come out. I get the impression those two are not the best of friends, despite your mother suggesting him as your buddy rather than a Big Brother.”
Nick found that hard to believe. That Mom had suggested Unk, had suggested any of his father’s family... He was glad she had, but also shocked. “They haven’t spoken since my father died.”
“How come?”
“My mom broke up with my dad a few weeks before he died. The rest of the family, especially Uncle Hayden, kind of blames her...like my dad didn’t want to keep fighting the cancer without her.” It had left him in the middle. Like a kid whose parents had divorced and hated each other’s guts. Though neither side ever made an unkind comment about the other in front of him, still... he’d felt robbed growing up. Felt even more robbed recently as he’d watched his uncles bring new women, like Aunt Shannon and Aunt Amelia, into the Hawkins family. New women who were welcomed with open arms.
“They told you that?”
He shook his head. “She did. Not exactly like that.”
“That’s gotta be a lot of guilt for her to carry.”
This time he raised both shoulders.
“What about your stepfather? Tell me about him.”
Nick clenched his teeth. “I don’t have a stepfather anymore.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“Thought you were a probation officer, not a damn shrink.” He managed three steps down the hallway in the direction of Mandy’s office before he was jerked to a halt, her hand wrapped around his forearm as she spun him to face her.
“Good juvenile PO’s are part teacher, part cop, part shrink and part ass-kicker. I’m here to help you, but don’t push me.” She leaned closer, her clipped words carrying a hint of mint that didn’t match the scowl creating wrinkles between her eyebrows. “What I’m not is your mother. Don’t run from me again. I can be your new best friend, helping you get your life back on track, or I can be your worst nightmare. Your choice. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Good.” She released him.
He rubbed his arm where she’d gripped it, following her back to her office. She barreled right in, but he paused in the doorway. No longer sitting where he’d left her, his mom stood in the tiny space between her chair and the table, facing the wall, one hand to her ear. The other hand gestured in the air. “No. I don’t care what Vera says. Do not allow them in there. Look, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Nick sidled into the room, jerking his head in his mother’s direction while staring at his uncle. Unk shrugged.
Nick looked closer at him. Sweat beaded across his forehead, and a pale red tint coated his face. Maybe Nick should have been more concerned about Unk than his mom. Maybe Mom had given him holy hell instead.
“You all right?” Nick asked quietly. “You’re dripping sweat like you’ve just run Presque Isle.”
“Couldn’t be better. This moment is a dream come true.” Uncle Hayden frowned at him, hooking a finger inside his collar. “It’s just hot in here.”
Mom ended her call and crammed her cell back into her purse, gingerly sitting on the edge of the chair as if she wanted to pop out of her skin, never mind the seat. “I’m sorry,” she said to Mandy, moving the paperwork in front of her. “Can we cover the rest of this as quickly as possible? I need to go.”
“Problem?” Mandy asked.
Mom sighed. “Just another fire to put out at the
nursing home.”
Nick’s gut tightened. The nursing home, combined with his mother’s expression, equaled bad. “What’s wrong?”
Mom glanced over her shoulder at him. “Grandma Vera’s causing havoc again. She’s got a news crew there, wanting to do a Memorial Day story about Scott. Vera just doesn’t get it. He wouldn’t want that.”
“No kidding.” The last thing his stepfather would want was his story plastered across the news.
And the last thing his mother needed was a nosy reporter asking too many questions about the man who’d helped raise Nick. His stepfather’s secrets were best kept that way. Mom had enough problems. She didn’t need gory details that would hurt her.
The sick feeling in his stomach got worse. Nick crammed his hands into his pockets.
“No problem.” Mandy lifted her set of papers—papers that might as well be handcuffs as far as his upcoming summer vacation went. “We’re almost done, anyway.”
Ten minutes later, the three of them, him, Mom and Unk, waited for the elevator together—together. Something he’d never thought he’d live to see. Maybe getting snagged by the cops that night wouldn’t turn out to be the worst thing ever. Unk shifted on the balls of his feet, while Mom studied the floor indicator numbers. They sneaked sideways looks at each other.
When the elevator stopped, the adults stepped forward—then both stepped backward, muttering apologies. Nick pushed past them, stepping into the far corner. Unk stuck his palm across the sensor, holding the doors while his mother boarded. His mom stood all the way to the right, in front of the buttons. Unk stayed on the left side.
Wow, this was almost as much fun as the drug test.
For years, Nick had hoped that one day his father’s family would make peace with his mom. She’d always told him not to hold his breath. Apparently she’d been right.
Unk dragged the sleeve of his sports jacket across his forehead.
The elevator motor whirred as they descended to the ground floor. Nick tapped his foot.
The air grew heavier with every moment. When the doors opened, Nick bolted between the adults, heading for the exit. He barreled past the security checkpoint and out the main exits. Across the street, the metallic specks in Unk’s new Camaro glinted in the sunshine. That was as good a place as any to wait for his mother. Better the college side of the street than the courthouse.
“Nicholas!” His mother’s raised voice caught up with him when he hit the middle of Sixth.
He crammed his hands into his pockets and kept going.
From the top of the courthouse steps, Ronni watched her son trudge the rest of the way across the street. “I swear, there are moments when I understand why some animals eat their young.”
At her side, Hayden snorted. “Try educating a hundred of them on a daily basis.”
“No, thanks. You chose that career path, not me.” Finding out through the grapevine—the one that ran right through the chair at her beauty salon, Do-Ron-Ron—that Hayden had become a high school phys ed and health teacher after the Marines and college had been quite a shock. “Not what I expected you to pick, that’s for sure.”
“Really?” He balanced one hip on the metal handrail beside the staircase, sliding down it before gracefully regaining his feet.
She shook her head as she caught up with him at the bottom. This was the role model she’d chosen for her son? “Really. I figured you’d either stay career military, or do something...I don’t know. More exciting.”
“Trust me, a hundred teenagers a day is plenty exciting. It’s like working in the middle of a minefield. Or driving down a highway potentially laced with IEDs. You never know if one of them is going to go off.”
Ronni’s life had been loaded with IEDs. Nick’s legal issues were only the latest. If Scott’s injuries had been caused by an actual IED, she’d probably have just a little less guilt over the whole thing.
But only a little. She did guilt well.
She caught up to her son, who had stopped to admire a blue sports car. “All right, Nick, let’s go. I need to get to the nursing home ten minutes ago.”
“Drop me off at the house first. You know I hate going there.”
“The house? I’m dropping you off at school first.”
“Aw, Mom. Let me take the rest of the day off.”
Ronni counted to three silently before responding. “You think you deserve a reward for going to court? Wrong.”
He kicked the pole of the parking meter. “Why do you always have to be such a bitch?”
“Excuse me?” Hayden’s polite words belied the growl under them. He stepped around Ronni, straightening up so fast she feared the seams on his jacket would split. “I don’t think I heard you. Did you just call your mother a bitch?”
Nick lifted one shoulder.
“Drop and give me twenty.”
The only thing that dropped was Nick’s mouth. Ronni checked to make sure hers was closed. She’d been about to chastise her son when Hayden had barreled in.
Nick laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
Hayden stepped even closer, so that he had to be toe-to-toe with the boy. Hard to tell from her vantage point behind Hayden. He leaned down, spoke softly. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“Y-you’re not my father.”
Ronni jockeyed for a better position, trying to see her son’s face.
“Lucky for you. I’m pretty sure if your father heard you speak to your mom that way, he would have separated your head from your shoulders. Push-ups would be the least of your worries. Where do you get off, talking to any woman like that, let alone your mother?”
The teen shrugged again, then took one step to the side, turning beseeching eyes to his mother.
Hayden twisted his head, pinning her with a challenging stare. One eyebrow rose in question.
She felt two inches tall. Totally inadequate. A feeling she ought to be accustomed to, especially where Ian’s family was concerned. Hayden had overstepped. But she damn well couldn’t afford to show Nick any chink in their ink-barely-dried partnership. If he thought he could divide and conquer them, they’d be toast. He’d done it a million times with her and Scott.
She cleared her throat. “You heard your uncle. Drop and give him twenty.”
Hayden’s head jerked a fraction of an inch in acknowledgment. Battle lines were being drawn, and she’d chosen to stand with him.
Unfortunately, that still didn’t make them allies. Somebody she could count on to have her back.
Nick’s eyes widened. “No way. Here? On the sidewalk?”
“On the grass if you prefer,” Hayden told him.
“This is stupid.” But Nick grudgingly lowered himself to the ground.
“Be glad the college finished classes last week and there aren’t a bunch of cute coeds hanging around to watch you. Count ’em off. And next time I hear you speak to your mother that way, it’ll be fifty.” Hayden moved closer to the car, gesturing for her to follow.
“You had me worried there for a second,” he said softly. “Thought you were going to let him off the hook.”
“Well...you did overstep there, don’t you think? Doling out punishment like that?”
“A few push-ups won’t kill him. Does he always talk to you like that? Did Scott let him talk to you like that?”
Ronni sighed. “Nick was only twelve when Scott shipped to Iraq. I don’t think he was quite this mouthy then. Speaking of Scott...” She glanced at her watch, then at her son, struggling with push-up number six. “How long do you think this is going to take?”
“Go. Put your fire out. I’ll take him to school for you.”
“Really?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Well, let’s see. You haven’t spoken to me in almost thirteen years. You looked like you wanted to tear my head off when you first walked into that office. You admitted you hate me for what I did to Ian. But you’re offering to do a favor for me.”
“I said
I was going to be here to help you with Nick. I promised Ian I would, and I haven’t lived up to that promise. Besides, this will give me a chance to have a chat with him. man to man.”
The ominous note made her look at him sharply. “Just mind your step. While I appreciate the help—”
“And can obviously use it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “It means what it means. You have a lot going on. Damn, woman, I just want to help.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a tad suspicious. You’re not exactly on my 9-1-1 speed dial.”
“And you’re not exactly on my Christmas card list. But we agreed to be partners for Nick’s sake. So go already.”
“Okay.” She took a step back in her son’s direction. “Uncle Hayden’s taking you to school, Nick. I’ll catch you later.”
He grunted, arms trembling as he lowered himself to the ground again.
“Thanks,” she said to Hayden. “I appreciate it.” But as she turned and darted down the sidewalk in the direction of her car, she couldn’t help but wonder...
Did Hayden have ulterior motives?
###
Hayden let the first few blocks pass in silence. Let the boy sulk for a minute or two before starting the interrogation. The kid’s pride had been wounded, and Hayden needed it to at least scab over before he started picking at it again.
Which was why he was driving in the opposite direction of his destination, his brother Greg’s house, where Shannon, at least, would be home to get Hayden out of the damn costume. They’d take a long way.
Then Nick leaned over and turned down the AC.
“Hey. Hands off. Controls belong to the driver.” Hayden blasted it back full throttle.
“What’s with you? It’s not ninety degrees out.”
“When you drive, you can set the stuff.”
“Great. Pull over. I’ll drive.”
“Smart-ass.” Hayden adjusted the vents so they all blew in his direction. Greg was so dead. At least Hayden had managed the court appointment with no one becoming the wiser about his “underoos.”