Holding the Truth

by Calle J. Brookes

Chapter 97

  Glen had had enough of Value and Barrattville and even of Finley Creek. His enjoyment of the area had soured with the loss of his strawberry blond. She’d awakened something in him, and he felt restless again.

  If he’d been allowed to finish what was supposed to be between them, he might feel differently. But he didn’t.

  And there was far too much temptation around. He saw those blond sisters everywhere he went in the town. Or that Bailey Moore. Glen had watched her whenever he thought he could get away with it.

  Mostly because he knew good ol’Lou was around her, too. For the TSP, she and Clay Addy were damned oblivious to who was watching them at times.

  She filled out her uniform so nicely. And was so often alone.

  He’d even found himself driving by the police station looking for his redhead that morning. Extremely stupid of him; Glen prided himself on knowing his own faults.

  Stupidity wasn’t something he prized.

  When he saw her walk outside with Clay Addy, that’s when Glen realized how stupid he was being.

  The world—hell, even just Texas—was filled with women who would find him interesting.

  He could be a balm to their lonely hearts like he had so many others before.

  Or he could stay right where he was and do something completely stupid and get himself sent right back up the proverbial river.

  Small wonder he was going to head out.

  He wasn’t stupid. That was the one thing Glen knew he was not.

  But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a bit of fun with the man at the washing machine next to Glen’s.

  Glen tended to favor the later night hours, too. It was easier to get overlooked that way. Especially in a city the size of Finley Creek. The cops were just stretched too thin later at night like this.

  But Lou Moore was right there in his sphere. Hard to resist the opportunity it presented.

  Lou Moore and his cronies had made Glen’s time in prison an absolute nightmare.

  Glen still had a scar where Jennson had cut him once over a bologna sandwich. While Lou and Pete had held Glen down and taunted him.

  Hard for him to forget.

  If he could get back at Lou a bit for that, well...Glen had never been the type to kick a gift horse in the mouth.

  Glen deserved the reward, after all.

  “Hey, Lou. I saw Bailey again last night. In these tight little jeans that showed off that ass of hers. Think the sheriff’s tapping it. Long and hard and as often as he can. I would, if she worked for me.”

  Lou turned on him. Just that fast.

  Glen saw the penknife coming at him too late to avoid it.

  The burn in his skin had him almost yelling out. He stopped himself just in time.

  Glen wasn’t sticking around for the police.

  He just ran.

  Chapter 98

  Charlie knew something had happened the instant Lou showed up at the door to the cabin where he was staying. He had grown up in Value, after all. He knew every cabin owned by his family.

  This particular one was at the back of George and Ronnie’s place. They hadn’t used it in years, and there were grasses grown up around it almost as tall as a man.

  There was no heat, no air, and very crude running water. But it was a safe place for him to hole up while he decided what to do next. He had to make certain Celia and Cameron were all right.

  Safe.

  He hadn’t missed the man Lou had said was roaming around Value. Lou had convinced Charlie to go looking for Glen Washington. They’d found the guy and followed him to a bar on the outskirts of Value just the night before.

  They hadn’t left until Jeff Hall, one of Clay Addy’s top deputies, had pulled in to pick his wife up after her shift.

  Charlie was a fool, but not a stupid one.

  He’d also recognized Verity Smalls inside. He’d had two dates with that woman ten years ago, before he’d gotten scared and called things off. Veri had been too close to the TSP for his comfort.

  The last thing he’d needed was her finding out about Celia back then. Or recognizing him now.

  No. From the moment he’d taken his niece, he’d devoted his life to hers.

  There hadn’t been much time for women, that was for sure.

  “Lou, why the hell do you have blood all over you?”

  “You’re my lawyer, right?”

  “Hell, no. We’re wanted by the damned FBI and TSP, you idiot. I’ve no doubt been disbarred by now. What the hell did you do?” For a moment, Charlie was certain Lou had done something to hurt the sheriff. Or Celia. Or anyone who Lou thought was harmful to Bailey. “Who did you hurt?”

  “I stabbed him. He mentioned my girl, and I just stabbed him, and there were people everywhere watching me.”

  Charlie cursed. Lou could have led the damned police right to him. “Did someone see you? Follow you?”

  “No. I turned off my lights and waited to see, six miles back. And it happened on Boethe Street.”

  Charlie snorted at that. A man could stab fifteen people on Boethe Street this time of night, and it would take four hours for the police to even be called, let alone arrive at the scene. “Did you kill him?”

  Before everything that had happened to him, Charlie would have been horrified by the question. But now? Charlie had a new philosophy.

  Survival of the fittest. At least until he knew everything was all right for Celia.

  Chapter 99

  What Bert was about to do was damned near insane. He should just leave well enough alone.

  Verity Smalls and her attitude had finally gotten under his skin more than Bert could handle. After he and Bailey had taken her home, he’d called a buddy of his with a tow truck. Chad had agreed to tow Veri’s car into town as repayment for a favor Bert had done him a while back.

  Bert had gone to get her himself the next morning, but the fool woman had called a taxi. Even though he’d told her he was coming for her.

  Verity was the stubbornest woman Bert had ever met. She had always been that way. When he’d first met her, she’d been fresh out of high school with an accounting and typing class under her belt. She’d gotten the job because Lou Moore’s wife had been her best friend in school and had recommended Verity.

  Bert hadn’t cared as long as someone competent was there to answer his phones and keep track of where he and his deputies were.

  Veri had surprised him at how well she’d done the job.

  He’d started to confide in her, until Bert had told her just too damned much.

  And he’d had to betray his closest friend to keep her safe. It had cost him that friendship. He’d never stopped regretting that. But Bert had done what he had to do.

  It had been fifteen years since he’d been idiot enough to sleep with her and not do anything about it afterward.

  He wasn’t certain how that night had even happened. He’d come up on her having car trouble alongside the road.

  Bert had taken her home, then before he knew it, he had had her in his arms.

  He’d been so damned alone that night, and Veri...holding her had felt so right. Until the morning came.

  Now he knew that that had been a mistake. Bert also knew when it was time for him to man up to his mistakes and try to fix them.

  He was making amends with his daughter. Now it was time to deal with Verity.

  Damned redheaded woman had driven him crazy years ago. That hadn’t changed in the decade and a half since.

  He upset her every time she saw him; Verity wasn’t exactly the type for a one-night stand. She was the Sunday-church, pitch-in-dinner, driving-Aunt-Ethel-to-the-pharmacy type.

  Not the rolling around in a convict’s bed type.

  But enough was enough—it had been fifteen years, after all.

  Now that Bailey was in his life, they were going to run into each other more often. Verity was going to have to finally forgive him.

  Or things were going to get extremely awkward—for them and for
Bailey.

  He pulled into the small bungalow Verity had lived in for almost as long as he’d known her.

  He remembered the day she’d bought it, how excited she’d been when she’d told everyone at the precinct about it.

  Bert had been the one to replace the floor for her two months later, along with three other deputies who had long since disappeared—into the prison system.

  Every last one of them had been corrupt.

  He hadn’t known it at the time, if he had...he wasn’t certain he’d have done anything differently.

  What had happened didn’t weigh on his conscience in the least.

  Except for how his decisions back then had affected Jake and Kyra.

  And Verity.

  She’d changed a few things around the place; no surprise, considering the time that had passed. She had flowers everywhere, hardy flowers designed to survive Texas.

  There was a white porch swing to his left.

  He could imagine her sitting out there, staring off into the distance. The house faced away from town and showed the true beauty of Barratt County. Off in the distance was the dim glow that was the city of Finley Creek. She was closer to the larger city than she was Value.

  The door opened and there she was.

  Verity.

  With her wild reddish-blond hair only hinting at gray now, and the big green eyes he’d never forgotten. The trim little body that had only just begun to soften with age. So pretty. Verity had that classic appeal that Bert had always been pulled toward.

  Her skin still looked as soft as ever.

  But the trust that had once permeated every inch of her back then was gone now. And probably had been for a very long time.

  He did the math in his head, quickly.

  She had to be fifty-three or -four now.

  He’d had her in his bed just shy of her fortieth birthday, a night they’d both been feeling a bit too lonely for common sense.

  She hadn’t been the last woman he’d slept with, but other than his now deceased ex-wife, she’d been the only one he’d truly remembered.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Not a damned thing. And I think that may be the problem. Let me in, Verity. We’re going to talk.”

  Chapter 100

  Celia had apologized for bringing her son. Jake didn’t mind. He set Cameron up in the living room with the television at his disposal. Liam slept in the playpen nearby. “We’ll leave the door open. He can find you if he needs you. I have the video monitor on. You’ll be able to see him from the gym.”

  “He’s frightened of storms. And didn’t want to go to Ronnie’s. I’m sorry; if you want to reschedule, it won’t be a problem. Becky was watching him, but...”

  Jake covered her lips with one finger. “Celia, it’s ok. You think I don’t get it? I take Liam with me to work more times than I want to think about when I don’t have a sitter—”

  Before he could say anything else, the television blared a warning. Jake listened as the newscaster reported a tornado approaching their general area from the southwestern corner of the county. She jumped and paled. “The storm!”

  He’d seen people with severe fears of storms before. But at the terror in her eyes, he knew it went deeper than that. Kyra had told him why. Her uncle had taken her when she was twelve, claiming her entire family had been killed in a string of severe tornadoes that had hit that same night. Lilapsophobia was a very real condition.

  He kept his words calm. He grabbed his crutches. He’d left his chair down in the kitchen. There wouldn’t be time to get into it. “Come on. We’ll go through the breezeway to the back garage. There’s a shelter in there. Go get the boys.”

  She responded, hurrying into the living room and scooping up Liam. She grabbed Cameron by the hand.

  Jake was already halfway to the side door. He had the keys to the shelter ready to go. Within two minutes, he had them safely inside.

  It wasn't the first tornado he had ever ridden out before. The storm shelter his father had had installed ten years ago was a partial above-ground shelter, designed for those with mobility issues. It was plenty big enough for anyone on the property.

  Today, it was just him, his son, Celia, and her son. "Come here, honey."

  He'd said the words to Celia, but it was Cameron who took him up on the invitation. Jake pulled him closer, tucking his head on his other shoulder and rocked until the little boy drifted back into his nap. Jake pulled his son's carrier closer. Liam was sleeping, too, not even aware of the noise of the storm.

  Celia was shaking, her fear almost palpable. "I hate storms like this. I hate them."

  If he ever saw Charlie Lake again, he'd shoot first and regret it later. He caught Celia's hand when she paced close enough. "Sit. You're going to get yourself all worked up. It'll blow over in a minute. And we're safe in here. I promise, honey. This little box is strong enough to withstand the winds of hell if it has to."

  To his surprise she flopped down on the cushioned bench and scooped her son into her own arms. "I'm tired of being a big wimp, Jake. This isn't me. I deal. I have been raised to just deal. Even if I was raised by a criminal."

  "Hell, honey, welcome to the club. My dad's supposedly a criminal, too. Still one hell of a father now. I prefer to forgive. Life is less complicated that way." Jake shifted, pulling her and Cameron closer. Liam was still sound asleep next to them. He shifted his baby nearer his side. He leaned over and kissed her blond hair. She just needed the comfort. "I'm sorry for how he hurt you."

  "I feel so guilty for being hurt."

  "Why?"

  "Because he hurt Bailey and Kyra so much more. Why should I feel so hurt and angry when he'd almost killed them? What did he do to me besides...take away everyone I ever loved? Except for Cameron. I wouldn’t have him if I hadn’t grown up in Oklahoma. And what Charlie did hurt my son, too. Destroyed his world."

  Jake pulled her even closer. Both boys were sound asleep. It was just the two of them and the storm now. "I know. And he did hurt you. Maybe it wasn't as immediate as what he did to my sister and Bailey. But insidious hurt can still cause the same amount of damage. It took me a while to forgive my dad. And I’ve always known he loved me. He just made some mistakes on the job that angered the wrong people."

  "I...I shouldn't be whining to you." She wiped at her eyes with one hand, the other covering her son's small back. "I should just suck it up and get through. Make a life for myself and my son and forget that I lost years of my family because of my uncle's selfish greed."

  "You have your family now. I know Cam—big Cam, not this one—adores you. Kyra's mentioned it."

  "He calls. Weekly. And just talks. He doesn't stop talking."

  "He does that here, too. Quick checks to make certain we're still kicking. Or rolling, as he puts it. It's because he cares. His search for you made him who he is. Made him afraid to lose the people in his life. I’m sure what happened with Kyra didn’t help. He's damned good at saving kids, Celia. Kyra said he’s one of the best at what he does. He’s helped hundreds of families. Something good came out of what happened to you. He's saved lives because of you. I know it sounds trite, but everything does happen for a reason. I'm a strong believer in that."

  "Are you? I'm not so certain I am. I think life is a random mess of bad things and good things, and you just don't know what's going to come your way until it's far too late."

  "I think we have a philosophical disagreement, Miss Lake. Interesting." He tangled his fingers in the blond hair that curled lightly. It was soft. Just as soft as Bailey's. But unlike with his favorite housemate, he wanted to bury his hands in this hair completely. And just breathe her in. "I'd like to take the time to find out what else we disagree—or agree—on."

  She stiffened against him. Jake wondered if he hadn't pushed too hard. But he strongly believed in honesty first. Up front and honest prevented a lot of hurt later.

  He wanted her and had from the moment she’d stepped into his home. From the moment
her hands had touched his skin.

  It had been a while since he’d wanted a woman as intensely as he wanted her. He’d cared a great deal for Liam’s mother, but theirs had been a relationship that had grown out of proximity and convenience. When they’d called it off, shortly before she’d realized she was pregnant, it had been mutual. She’d actually been interested in someone else at the time. That had ended when the other man had realized she was pregnant with another man’s child.

  He’d held her while she grieved him, and vowed that, no matter what happened between them, he would be there for her and their baby.

  And he was.

  He’d grieved when he’d buried her.

  Jake looked at Celia.

  Blue eyes stared at him as the wind outside picked up. Jake stared back.

  ***

  Celia had lived long enough to know when a man was expressing his interest. Her first instinct was to run—straight out into the terror of the storm. Something about Jake Dillon told her it would be the smart thing to do. He was the kind of man that terrified her. Because of what he could want from her.

  She'd learned with Christopher, Cameron's father, to watch what she did and said. Not every man could be trusted. But she sensed that Jake could.

  He wouldn't do anything to deliberately hurt her. Not with the connection to her brother that he had. But that didn't make it easier for her. The exact opposite. Because she suspected she could trust him.

  "I..."

  "I'm not going to lie, Celia. I am attracted to you. We both know that." Jake's green eyes stared at her. He had beautiful eyes. His entire family had green eyes just like that. "Why shouldn't I just say it? Save us both time. We don't have to be like Bailey and Clay. Those two are just hurting themselves."

  She didn't know how she felt about Bailey Moore. The few times her path had crossed the other woman's Celia had let her guilt keep her from saying much. The other woman seemed nice. And Jake apparently cared a great deal about her.

  But every time Celia saw her, Celia wanted to apologize for Charlie.

  Even though what he had done hadn't been her fault. "Why?"