Relentless (Nashville Nights)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “You’re a lying, worthless piece of shit, you know that?”

  He may be worthless, but what had he lied about? “You want to tell me what the hell you’re talking about before I throw you out?”

  “You told me you’d never hurt my daughter. You told me you loved her, asshole. Remember that?” Luc scowled. “You actually had me believing you.”

  “I thought you’d be happy I cut her loose.”

  “Happy?” Luc stared at him as though he were trying to read him. “You think it makes me happy to see my little girl miserable?”

  J.T. had tortured himself by watching clips from a few of their concerts online. She didn’t look miserable to him. She looked beautiful, sexy, and happy. “You’re crazy. Nik’s probably glad to be rid of me. I bet she’s already moved on to bigger and better things.” Damn, just saying that cut like a knife. He waited, praying Luc would dispute his words.

  Shaking his head, Luc said, “I don’t get it. What the hell does she see in you?”

  Ouch, Luc definitely knew how to cut him off at the knees. “Obviously not much, since we’re not together anymore.”

  He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since that morning he dropped her off in the parking lot of Jimmy’s. Not that she hadn’t tried to contact him a time or two, but he knew by the time she boarded the tour bus she’d have forgotten all about him. He’d been right. She hadn’t tried to contact him once since the tour started. He tried to tell himself it was for the best, but every night he fell asleep with an empty glass in one hand and his phone in the other, willing it to ring.

  His big, old bed had been empty for months, his longest dry spell since he turned fifteen and lost his virginity. Damn, he knew he shouldn’t have let that little vixen get inside his head, or his bed. Now he didn’t know how the hell to get her out. Memories filtered in and out of his mind, and her scent lingered on sheets that had been washed a dozen times. There was no escaping her, no matter how hard he tried.

  “Yeah, and whose decision was that?” Luc muttered.

  J.T. leaned forward, getting in his face. He knew Luc wasn’t used to being challenged and hoped provoking him would draw him into the fight he was itching to have. “This is none of your goddamn business, so stay out of it.”

  Luc pushed him back. “Get the hell out of my face, punk.”

  The phone rang behind the bar. J.T. considered whether to answer it or finish what he’d started. Since he didn’t relish the thought of spending the night behind bars for assault, he decided to answer. “Jimmy’s, J.T. speaking,” he muttered. He listened to a deep male sigh on the other end of the phone. When he was about to hang up, his brother Derek’s broken voice permeated the phone line.

  “J.T., man, I’ve got some bad news. Real bad.”

  J.T. sank down on the stool behind the bar, waiting for Derek to continue. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His brother wasn’t the type to panic. He was always in control, yet at the moment, it sounded like he was on the verge of losing it. Which could only mean one thing. “Is it Mom or Dad?” Silence. “Damn it, just tell me what the hell happened, Derek.”

  “It’s Dave, man.”

  His brother Dave was in Afghanistan. After two tours, he was finally due to come home next month. J.T. dropped his head into his hand. “What happened?”

  “We lost him, kid.” Derek said, his voice cracking. “Christine just called me. She wasn’t up to giving me details yet. Needless to say, she’s devastated.”

  Christine. Damn it, his brother had a wife and kids who were counting on him. He had no one, yet he’d risked his lame-ass neck on the back of an angry bull for years, with nothing more than a few broken bones to show for it. He was the one who should be dead, not his brother. Dave was noble, a hero.

  “This can’t be happening,” he whispered, trying to come to terms with the fact that they’d just lost their brother. More importantly, his niece and nephew had lost their father.

  “J.T., listen to me. I need you to be the one to tell Mom and Dad about this. I’m catching the next flight out, but they can’t hear about this over the phone. Can you do that for me?”

  How the hell was he supposed to tell his parents that they’d just lost their first-born? “Shit, I don’t know if I can, Derek.”

  “You have to,” Derek said firmly. “They need to know now, and there’s no one else who can tell them. Christine called me because she didn’t want them to hear about it over the phone. Please, you need to do this.”

  He knew he didn’t have a choice. Of course, he would have to be the one to tell them, but how? “Okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. When are you gonna be here, man?” The sooner, the better. Derek was the responsible one, the one used to dealing with high-pressure situations and tragedy. J.T. felt totally inept when it came to handling situations like this.

  “I should be there by late afternoon, early evening at the latest. We’re going to have to get in touch with Ty…”

  J.T. looked up at Luc, who was watching him carefully. “Luc’s here now. Let me find out how to track him down.”

  “You got it. Hey, thanks for steppin’ up, kid.”

  Like he had a choice. His family needed him now. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you in a few hours. Be safe.” J.T. had never said that to Derek before, in spite of the danger he faced every day. Now it seemed more important than ever that his other brother stay out of harm’s way. This family wasn’t equipped to deal with that kind of tragedy twice in a lifetime.

  “I will. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Mom and Dad, okay?”

  “Yeah, I will.” He waited for the sound of the dial tone, knowing his brother never said good-bye. They’d never thought it necessary before. Now he realized there were too many things he should have said, especially to Dave. He’d never told him he loved him, was proud of him. He’d never told him how much he’d looked up to him growing up, and now he would never have the chance to tell him how he felt. It was too late.

  “J.T.,” Luc said quietly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “My brother Dave…” He cleared his throat, trying to force the words out. “He was killed in Afghanistan.” It didn’t seem real, or even possible. Dave was really gone, and this family would never be the same. None of their lives would ever be the same.

  “Oh my God,” Luc said, covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks,” J.T. muttered.

  “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  J.T. appreciated the offer, especially since he had been ready to jump down the man’s throat mere moments ago. “Ty needs to know. Where is he right now?”

  “He’s in San Francisco. They have a show there tonight. Let me fly out there and tell him in person. I don’t want him to hear about this over the phone.”

  J.T. appreciated the sentiment. He didn’t think there was anything worse than getting the news that you’d lost a loved one over the phone, not that Derek had a choice when it came to telling him. Still, it would have been nice to have a little support when he heard the news. “Thanks, Luc. I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Luc said, getting to his feet. “I’ll bring him back with me later today.”

  J.T. reached across the bar, offering his hand. “I’m sorry—about everything.” Losing his brother helped to put everything into perspective for J.T. The things that he thought mattered didn’t anymore. The only thing that was important was keeping those he loved close.

  Luc clasped his hand, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding. “It’s forgotten, J.T. If there’s anything else I can do for you or your family, just let me know.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  J.T. stood at the door to the house he’d grown up in, his trembling hand poised on the handle. He drew a shaky breath, mentally rehearsing the speech he’d prepared on the way over. It didn’t matter what he said, or how he said it. There was no way he could soften the blow for his p
arents.

  Walking through the door, he was assailed with the scent of peach pie, Dave’s favorite. How long would it be before everything stopped reminding him of the brother he lost?

  Years? Never?

  His mother came out of the kitchen, a smile lighting her face as she wiped her hands on her ever-present apron. “Hi, honey. I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today.” She consulted her watch, a frown marring her face. “Don’t you have to open the bar for lunch?”

  “No, I called Jessie. He’s gonna open up for me.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “Mama, where’s Dad? I need to talk to you guys about somethin’. It’s important.”

  Her face drained of her color. “What’s this about, J.T.? You’re scaring me. A mama always knows when something’s wrong with one of her children.” She reached up, pressing her palm to his forehead. “You’re not sick, are you?” She snorted. “Not that I’d be surprised. You’ve been at that bar all hours of the day and night, not sleeping, probably not eating properly.” Shaking her finger at him, she said, “And drinking too damn much.”

  He had no idea how his mother knew that, and it didn’t matter now. His problems paled in comparison to the issue they were facing. But they would get through it, together, as a family.

  They didn’t have a choice. Dave was gone, and nothing was going to bring him back. “Mom, please, I don’t want to talk about me right now. I’m fine.” He was anything but fine, but he was surviving, for now. “Just get Dad in here, okay?”

  She walked through the kitchen with J.T. on her heels. “Your daddy’s tending to his vegetable garden. He’s picking some tomatoes and cucumbers for the salad. Do you want to stay for lunch?”

  Food was the last thing on his mind, and he knew it would be the last thing on their minds when he imparted the news. “No, I’m good, Mama. Thanks.” He knew she must be able to hear the tension in his voice. He felt like it was a living, breathing entity filling the entire room.

  He waited near the sink, bracing his hands on the countertop, as he listened to his mother calling his father into the house.

  Carl entered the house, a basket of fresh vegetables looped over his arm. His smile slipped, and he said, “What’s wrong, boy? You look like you just lost your best friend.”

  An apt description, J.T. thought bitterly. “Sit down, both of you.” When neither of his parents moved to sit at the big table centered in the room, he said, “Please.”

  Muttering under his breath about the “big mystery,” his father claimed his chair at the head of the table with his wife beside him. “Okay, you’ve got our attention, now let’s have it. What the hell’s goin’ on with you?” He narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at J.T. “You didn’t get some girl in trouble, did ya? I wouldn’t be a damn bit surprised, what with the way you been messin’ around for years. This was bound to happen sooner or later. Boy, I thought we raised you better than that. Your mama and I…”

  J.T. held his hand up to silence his father’s tirade. If only it were an unplanned pregnancy. That, he could deal with. This felt insurmountable. “This has nothin’ to do with me. It’s about Dave.”

  His parents exchanged a glance before reaching across the table for each other’s hand. The simple act twisted his gut. At least they had each other. That would help them to get through this and anything else they might face in the future. If only he had someone to help him put this into perspective, to understand how and why this had happened to a man as good and decent as his brother. “Christine called Derek this morning.” He cleared his throat, tightening his grip on the counter behind him. “We lost Dave.”

  His mother’s hand flew to her mouth, her wide eyes brimming with unshed tears as she shook her head, denying her son’s words.

  “What’re you talkin’ about?” his father demanded. “Is he missin’ in action?”

  If that were the case, at least they could still hold out hope that he might return someday. As it was, he was gone, forever, and nothing they could say or do would bring him back home to his family, his kids. J.T.’s heart ached at the thought of Dave’s kids growing up without a father. Too young to remember him as the hero he was. “No, Dad, I’m so sorry.”

  “He’s dead?” he asked, choking on the words. “You’re trying to tell me that my boy’s dead?”

  His mother cried, covering her face with her hands. “No, God, no, not Dave.” She sobbed into her hands for several minutes before she finally faced her husband and son. “Oh, those poor babies,” she whispered, looking to her husband. “What’re they gonna do without their daddy? And Christine, how’s she gonna manage?” She sobbed into her hands until her husband drew his chair closer, coaxing her head onto his shoulder.

  J.T. watched them, feeling like an intruder. They cried and held each other tight, murmuring soft words of comfort in the face of the hardest blow life had ever dealt them. J.T. admired them, wished he could be more like them. “I’m gonna leave you two alone for a while,” he said, quietly. “Derek and Ty will be here later today.” He knew when news of this spread among their family and friends, they would descend upon the house with food and words of sympathy. It was going to be a long few days before they were left alone to deal with their grief in private. He just needed a few hours by himself to try and come to terms with this in his own way.

  His mother stood on trembling legs as she walked around the table to where he stood. Reaching up, she drew him into a fierce hug. “I love you, son. I don’t say that often enough.” She buried her face in his chest, as though she wanted to shut out the rest of the world.

  He wrapped his arms around her, wishing there was something he could say or do to ease her pain. “You say it every day, in everything you do, Mama.”

  The long drive out to the McCall house was quiet, Ty in his own world, trying to make sense of what had happened to his brother. Nikki wondered how J.T. was handling the news. And his parents. God, what they must be going through. Not to mention Dave’s wife and kids. It was a tragedy, one that didn’t make sense and probably never would in the minds of those who had loved the fallen soldier.

  Nikki didn’t know J.T.’s other brothers, Dave and Derek, but Ty and his parents had become like a second family to her. And J.T., well, he’d stolen her heart. It was as simple as that. She’d been going through the motions the past several months, trying to put the handsome cowboy out of her mind, to no avail. He was always with her. Every time the phone rang, or someone knocked on the door to her hotel room or tour bus, she had to suppress the hope that it was him, coming to tell her he’d changed his mind or that he’d been a fool to let her go. In her mind, they’d both been foolish to let go of what they’d found in each other without a fight.

  Dave’s death was a solemn reminder that life was often too short, and you didn’t have time to waste waiting for tomorrow.

  When they finally pulled up the long drive, Ty cut the engine, and they climbed out of the car in silence. Avery was out of town on business. She would be flying in later so she could be by her husband’s side, helping him through his heartbreak. They’d cancelled their tour dates for the next two weeks so Ty could spend some time with his family. Time that she intended to spend with J.T., if he’d let her. She had no idea what he was thinking, how he was feeling right now, but she intended to find out. They’d both been running away from their feelings for too long.

  Nikki stood aside as Ty held both of his parents, expressing their anguish over their shared loss. She felt like an outsider, an intruder, who didn’t belong there. She may feel like a member of the family, but she wasn’t, not really. She should have let Ty come alone, but she was worried about him, about all of them, especially J.T., who she suspected was holed up alone, drowning his pain in the bottom of a bottle.

  Ty’s mother and father finally let go of their son and turned their attention to her. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, allowing the tears to slide down her cheeks, unchecked. “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through.
She hugged both of them, holding on to them until she sensed they’d drawn all the strength they could from her. “If you’d prefer I go… I mean if you’d rather spend time with your boys right now, I understand.”

  “Hush now,” Liz said, stroking her cheek, wiping her tears away. “You’re family too, and we’re glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

  She nodded, unable to get any words past the massive lump blocking her throat.

  “J.T.’s down at his place,” Liz said quietly. “He sure could use a friend right now, honey.”

  J.T. swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. It tasted like acid going down, burning his gut. He closed his eyes when a knock on the door interrupted his self-recrimination. He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone right now. He just wanted to be alone to wallow in his misery.

  He heard the soft click of the doorknob, and he opened his eyes to see her standing there in the soft glow of the setting sun, looking like a vision who’d just stepped out of his dream. Pushing out of the chair, he set the glass down on a nearby table.

  She took a few steps, as did he, until they were standing face-to-face.

  He was afraid to touch her, afraid to speak. If this was a dream, he wasn’t ready to wake up.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered, reaching up to pull him into her arms.

  He lifted her off the ground, gripping her furiously, trying to erase all of the months of sadness and regret. He felt her compassion move through him, soothing him. She was here, in his arms, and for the first time since he’d learned of his brother’s death, he felt like he could breathe.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, burying his face in her hair. It smelled like honey, and it reminded him of everything he’d been missing. Everything he’d been trying so hard to forget.

  She pulled back, setting her hands on either side of his face. “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. All of you.” She sighed. “It’s just so damn unfair.”