by Lisa Carter
“You’re going to be sorry, all right,” the man growled.
Her head snapped up.
And despite everything she’d done to prevent this disastrous moment from happening, standing in front of Callie was her worst nightmare come true.
Chapter Fifteen
Brandon Lloyd towered over her, cutting her off from the throng of festivalgoers beyond the alley. “Long time no see, Callie.”
She shivered. “Not long enough.”
He’d cleaned up his appearance since the last time she’d seen him. In high school Brandon had been the leader of a pack of delinquents. He’d enticed Tiff to run away with him to Atlanta. Years later it was to him she’d returned when she left Jake.
Now, with his auburn hair neatly trimmed and his face clean-shaven, Brandon appeared fairly respectable. Like a young IT guy or accountant. But the overpowering stench of his expensive cologne made her want to gag.
To look at him in his rust-colored button-down shirt and khakis, no one would ever guess what a loathsome creep he was. But Callie had known from the beginning. Tiff had discovered this for herself only after a great deal of anguish.
Callie never understood what Tiff found so alluring in Brandon Lloyd. But he was good at what he did—conning people for a living. And Tiff had fallen for him, hook, line and sinker.
He sold illusions and once he’d emptied a mark’s coffers of everything, he skipped town. In high school he’d been a small-time drug dealer. When Tiff became his girlfriend, he was the one who introduced her to drugs.
Brandon Lloyd, the ultimate lowlife.
He threw her a despicable look. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She pushed past him.
Brandon shoved her deeper into the deserted alley. “I believe you do.”
Heart thudding, she gazed over his shoulder toward the sounds of laughter and music filtering into the alley. Anything to avoid looking into his eyes. The moss green eyes that had so mesmerized Tiff repulsed Callie.
“I want my kid.”
Callie’s mouth went dry. “She’s not your child.”
“Sure, she is.” His lips twisted. “You know it. I know it.”
“No.” She shook her head so hard some of her hair fell out of her braid. “It’s not true. The birth certificate—”
“Doesn’t matter whose name is on the birth certificate.” His eyes beaded on Callie. “She’s my kid, and I want her.”
The hope Callie had nurtured since meeting Jake was crushed under the weight of Tiff’s affinity for lying and his absolute conviction. Brandon—not Jake—was Maisie’s biological father. How she’d longed with all her heart for that not to be true. What she’d feared, but blindly refused to believe. But perhaps she could convince Brandon to see reason. If he cared anything about his child...
She scanned his face. “Maisie’s happy at the farm. What would you want with a child in your life? She’d only be a hindrance to your...to your...”
“My what?” Brandon sneered.
She touched her throat. “Your activities.”
He cocked his head as if considering the idea. Then his mouth hardened. “But a sweet little girl like Maisie—” it made her want to retch hearing Maisie’s name on his lips “—could bring new business opportunities my way.”
Violating her rule about staying as far away from Brandon as humanly possible, she seized his arm. “Please, Brandon. Don’t.”
His eyes gleamed.
“I’ll do anything.” Panic nearly blinded Callie. “Please don’t take her away. Jake—”
“Yeah.” Brandon curled his lip. “I’ve seen her around town with her fake dad.”
Fear coiled in Callie’s belly. How long had Brandon been watching them?
“Never figured you had it in you, Jackson.” His gaze shone with admiration. “Quite a con you’ve got going.” Brandon smirked. “Convincing G.I. Joe that the kid is his. Getting him to pony up.”
“It’s not a con.” Callie opened her hands. “Jake is her father.”
Brandon snorted. He motioned toward the square. “You want me to call a deputy? ’Cause I’ve got nothing but time and the law on my side.”
She stared at him in horror. This couldn’t be happening.
“You want me to take a paternity test?” he growled. “I’ll head right over to the clinic.” He got in her face. She cringed. “Soon as you tell that poor army chump that you’ve been trying to pass off another man’s child as his.”
On her deathbed, Tiff had made Callie promise to never allow Brandon to get anywhere near Maisie. Since Jake’s name was on the birth certificate, Callie had hoped—prayed—that for once Tiff had told the truth. That Jake was truly Maisie’s father.
But she’d refused to allow Callie to contact him and let him know about Maisie. After I’m gone, Tiff had said. Tell him I’m sorry.
Was it guilt? Fear? So many things about Tiff, Callie had never understood.
But she’d understood the need to protect an innocent child from the likes of Brandon Lloyd. How could she allow this monster to take Maisie into his sordid world? And what about Jake? Her legs almost went out from under her, imagining with sickening clarity the devastation he would feel.
After a lifetime of hurt and rejection, learning the truth would destroy him. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let that happen. He and Maisie needed each other.
Pushing against the rough brick, she straightened. No matter what it took, she wasn’t going to allow Brandon to tear them apart.
“What do you really want, Brandon? Because I know it isn’t the chance to play daddy. You want money?” She rolled her eyes. “Of course you want money. All you’ve ever cared about is money. How much will it take to make you go away and leave us alone?”
His face broadened into a disgusting grin. “How much do you have? How much is Maisie’s life and G.I. Joe’s happiness worth to you?”
Anything. Everything. She’d rather die than see Jake and Maisie separated. And in that moment she realized how much she loved Jake McAbee.
She folded her arms. “How much, Brandon?”
“I think five thousand dollars might do it.”
She gasped.
Brandon wrinkled his nose. “Too much to keep you from losing your baby? Too much to save that happy little family thing you got going?”
How in the world would she find that amount of money? But she would. She had no choice.
She jutted out her jaw. “And if I give you the money, you won’t contact us again? Ever again?”
“Why, sure, sweetheart.” That oily smile of his. “If that’s what you want. Although Tiff found me—”
She shoved him away.
He shrugged. “To each his own. I’m renting a trailer out on High Rock Road. The old Morgan place. Meet me there on Monday at five o’clock with the money.”
Monday. So soon, but what choice did she have?
He smoothed the front of his shirt. “And if you don’t show up, my next visit will be to break the news to G.I. Joe that he’s been duped.” He moved aside.
Rushing past, she staggered out of the alley. For a moment the activity, the noise, the sights, overwhelmed her senses. She’d taken no more than two tottering steps before a hand cupped her elbow.
Callie reared, wrenching free.
“Whoa!” Maisie’s arms around his neck, Jake stepped back. “I thought you saw us.” His gaze flicked toward the alley.
Suppose Brandon saw Maisie and decided to confront Jake?
“What were you doing—”
She yanked him away from the alley and toward the cheerful street-fair traffic. She wondered if she looked as shaken as she felt.
“Are you okay?” He stopped on the sidewalk in front of the pawnsho
p. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” But trembling, she let go of him, wrapping her arms around herself. “You just surprised me.” She unfolded her arms. “That’s all.”
“Meow, Cawee.” Maisie pushed her face at Callie. “See me?”
Callie fought the fear mushrooming inside her head. “What?” She took a steady breath, hoping neither Jake nor Maisie noticed her agitation.
“The face paint.” His brow creasing, Jake feathered back the clump of hair that had fallen across Callie’s eyes.
Unable to meet his gaze, she held out her arms for Maisie and hugged her close, grateful for the calming warmth of her little body.
“Meow, Cawee.”
The face-paint artist had drawn whiskers across Maisie’s cheeks and a pink triangle on the tip of her nose.
“Who is this cute creature, Jake?” She pretended to frown. “Who is this little kitty cat? What’s happened to our Maisie?”
“Meow.” Maisie clawed the air.
“What about me?” Jake turned his head, giving her a good look at the broad black and orange stripes across his cheeks. “Am I cute, too, Callie Rose?” He winked.
Maisie laughed. “My daddy not coot.”
“Papa Cat’s not supposed to be cute. Papa Cat is ferocious.” Growling, Jake tickled her tummy. She giggled in Callie’s arms.
He kissed the top of Maisie’s head. “Only ferocious when it comes to keeping his pretty kitty safe.”
Callie was never certain how she managed to get through the rest of the day. Maisie fell asleep in the truck on the ride home. Humming a tune, Jake reached across the seat for Callie’s hand.
Guilt and dread in equal measure surged in her heart. If he ever found out how she’d deceived him, he’d never forgive her. He’d never look at her the same way again. He’d never fall in love with her.
She’d already fallen as hard, long and fast as she could for him. But it was up to her to ensure he didn’t lose Maisie and that her tenuous relationship with Jake wasn’t ruined forever.
The consequences of losing either of them were too terrible to contemplate. She didn’t sleep that night. How could she keep Brandon from destroying their lives?
Sensing her disquiet at church the next morning, both Jake and her dad cast anxious looks her way. She made excuses when they asked if anything was wrong.
But if she didn’t confide in someone she was going to explode, so that afternoon she called Amber and asked if she could drop by.
Her dad was engrossed in a football game on television. Jake and Maisie had gone for a tractor ride in the orchard. With the high school kids manning the store, she slipped away to Amber’s small house on the outskirts of town.
Amber met her outside on the rickety porch. It hurt Callie’s heart to see how Amber and the girls were living—barely surviving in this decrepit, run-down shack. The yard consisted of packed dirt. Yet, because of Amber’s pride, there was no use in offering to help.
“What’s up?” Amber sank onto the top step, arms wrapped around her legs to keep out the chill.
Callie made a mental note to buy Amber a new winter coat for Christmas. Everything Amber earned on her meager salary at The Mason Jar went to food, school, rent for this slum dwelling and gas for her car.
“Where are the twins?”
“Long day at the festival yesterday.” Amber brought her knees to her chest. “The girls are asleep, or I’d say let’s go inside and get out of the cold.”
That wasn’t the real reason Amber didn’t invite Callie indoors, but she allowed her friend her pride-saving excuse.
Amber’s house wasn’t their usual meeting place. She didn’t like her friends to see the stark reality of her hardship. But today was an emergency. Brandon’s timetable was like a ticking bomb in the back of Callie’s mind. Swallowing past the bile, Callie eased down beside her.
“Looks like you had a great day yesterday.” When she didn’t respond, Amber elbowed her. “The best kind of day.”
“Brandon wants Maisie...” Callie burst into tears.
When she calmed down enough to be coherent, she poured out the rest of the story. Her promise to Tiff. Her desperation to keep Maisie safe. To prevent this very thing from happening.
“And Jake...” Callie broke into a fresh round of sobs.
“You must tell him the truth.” Amber kept her arm around Callie’s shoulders. “Everything.”
“I—I can’t. He’d be crushed. Feel so betrayed.”
Amber shook her head. “I can’t believe you kept this from everyone. This isn’t like you, Callie. Why all this time—”
“Maisie’s better off with Jake.” Callie raised her chin. “And I was going to tell him.” Moisture flooded her eyes, blurring her vision. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it.”
Amber blew out a breath. “The truth has a habit of coming out, Callie. You know that. And at the worst possible time. Now is your chance to come clean about Brandon and Tiff, to get ahead of this before disaster strikes. Jake will know how to handle this.”
Callie wrested free. “I can’t tell him and risk...” She bit her lip.
Amber tilted her head. “And risk him never trusting you again?”
Callie stiffened. “If I just give Brandon the money... You remember how he is.”
Amber’s mouth thinned. “Brandon Lloyd is an absolute snake. I wouldn’t trust him—and neither should you—as far as I could throw him. Who’s to say that once he gets the money, he won’t come back for more?” She frowned. “The insatiable greed. A blackmailer never gets enough.”
Callie combed her fingers through her hair. “I—I can’t think about that right now. I just have to get through this crisis.”
“Where will you get hold of that kind of money by tomorrow?”
“I’ve racked my brain... I’ll empty out my bank account.” Callie lowered her gaze, toeing her boot into the wooden step. “Pawn the camera.”
Amber gasped. “You bought the camera with the money your mom set aside in her will for your dreams.”
Callie raised her shoulders and let them drop. “You’re a mother, Amber. Blood or not, I’m the only mother Maisie has ever known. Wouldn’t you do that and more if it meant protecting your girls from someone like Brandon?”
Amber pursed her lips. “Blood or not, Jake McAbee would never allow a man like Brandon to get within ten feet of Maisie or you. You have to tell him. And your father.”
Callie tossed her hair over her shoulder. “My father is only now getting back to where he was before the pneumonia. I won’t saddle him with this burden. This was my mess, and I have to be the one to clean it up.”
Amber stood so abruptly Callie fell against the railing. “Lying on that hard bed you’ve made for yourself? You sound like my father. I think you’re making a mistake. You’re wrong about Jake. It isn’t only him who has trust issues.”
Gripping the handrail, Callie rose. “It has to be this way, Amber.”
“I don’t like the idea of you meeting Brandon alone. The trailer he’s renting is in the middle of nowhere.” Amber set her jaw. “Who’s to say what else he may have in mind?” Her mouth tightened. “Anything could happen and there’d be no one to stop him.”
“Pray for me, then.”
Amber’s eyes narrowed. “Did you pray before you made this deal with Brandon Lloyd?”
She’d made so many mistakes since Tiff had arrived on her doorstep, sick and pregnant. Callie wasn’t sure God wanted to hear from her anymore. And she didn’t blame Him.
Callie felt as vile as Brandon, perhaps even more contemptible because the culmination of her deception had the potential to destroy someone whose happiness had become dearer to Callie than her own.
She scrubbed her forehead. “I should go.”
Amber caught her hand. “I’ll pray that you
will be safe. And that God will bring beauty out of the brokenness.” Through a haze of tears, Amber smiled at her. “He’s good at that, you know.”
Callie wasn’t sure how anything good could come from the lies Tiff had told, or the cover-up to which Callie had been an accessory. But if anyone could bring beauty out of this chaos, it would be God.
Considering the mess she’d made of everything, it would have to be God.
* * *
Jake wasn’t sure what was wrong, but sometime between visiting the photography exhibit and the end of the festival something had changed with Callie.
Late afternoon on Monday he parked the truck in front of the hardware store and got out. He’d volunteered to go into town to buy the PVC pipe, giving himself time to process what had transpired between him and Callie on Saturday and to ponder what had been going on with Callie since then.
She’d been aloof. Brooding. When he and Maisie returned from riding the tractor Sunday afternoon, she’d been gone. Visiting Amber, she’d said, but from the troubled look in her eyes, he was sure there was something more going on.
Now, equally distracted, he roamed the store aisles. Something had happened between their kiss and when they’d reconnected after face painting. Thinking about the kiss, he halted in front of the display of plumbing supplies.
The kiss had been spectacular.
Or at least, spectacular for him. Yet, unlike Tiffany, Callie wore her every emotion on her beautiful face. She couldn’t have kissed him like she did if she hadn’t felt the same.
Surely, he hadn’t misread her signals. He’d given her the opportunity to break it off if she wanted, but she hadn’t wanted to. Instead, she’d wanted to kiss him again.
The second kiss had been at her initiative, he reminded himself. No self-doubting. Callie had been clear how she felt about him and pursuing a relationship.
He glanced at his watch. On Maisie duty, Nash would be wondering what was keeping him. Callie had disappeared right after lunch to run errands.
Jake frowned. She’d run errands that morning, but she must have forgotten to do something in town. He sorted through the box on the shelf, looking for the plastic elbow joint he needed.