The Book Babes Boxed Set (Texas Ties/Texas Troubles/Texas Together)

by Jean Brashear

“Carlito, you here?” Ramon’s rough voice was slurred.

  “Dad?” The boy’s voice held a slight tremor.

  Then Ramon was in the doorway, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Tom. “What the hell are you doing in my house?” he growled.

  “I brought Carlos home. From jail. Where you left him to take the rap, you bastard.” Sudden rage all but blinded Tom. Ramon Martinez was nothing but a drunk and a bully. He didn’t deserve this boy’s loyalty.

  “You can’t talk to me like that. This is my house. Get out.”

  “Dad—” Carlos’s uneasy voice came from behind him.

  Ramon whirled and stumbled, taking in the sight of the duffel bag in his son’s hand. “Where the hell are you going?”

  “Away from you.” Tom clenched his fists.

  “You can’t take my boy away from me.” Ramon shoved away from the wall. He looked like hell.

  “You don’t deserve him.” Tom raked him with a contemptuous gaze. “Come on, Carlos. Let’s go.” He brushed past Ramon, who reached out to grab him.

  Tom whirled, eager for an outlet for the violence boiling within him. “Come on, Martinez. Why don’t you take on someone your own size, for a change?”

  “You can’t take my boy. Carlos, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  “Dad—” The boy’s eyes shifted between the two men, his gaze pleading with Tom. “Let me talk to him alone for a minute, all right?”

  Every nerve in Tom’s body strained to wreak havoc on Ramon Martinez for all the tears he’d seen Luisa shed, for all the pain in this boy’s eyes. But with effort, Tom restrained himself and merely nodded.

  Just as he turned to head for the front door, a loud banging began.

  “Police, Mr. Martinez. Open up.” The voice was loud and authoritative. It wasn’t a request.

  Ramon’s eyes switched to Tom’s. “The cops. You called the cops on me.”

  “You set up your own son, you bastard.”

  “I ain’t goin’ back to jail.” His gaze turned frantic. With a lightning move, Ramon grabbed Carlos around the neck and jerked him in front of his body, his other hand pulling a pistol from one pocket of his baggy pants.

  The voices were getting louder, the banging harder. “Police, Mr. Martinez. We know you’re in there. We have a warrant for your arrest. Come out with your hands up.”

  In a move that had Tom’s heart shuddering, Ramon pointed the barrel at his own son’s head. “Tell them to go away. Tell them I’ll kill him.”

  The despair that filled Carlos’s eyes, the absolute knowledge that his father did not love him, would have broken Tom’s heart if he had had the time to ponder it. His mind raced rapid-fire over his options. He couldn’t let Ramon take the boy hostage.

  “Switch him for me. Let the boy go. I won’t give you any trouble.”

  “What’s going on in there?” The voice from outside.

  Ramon’s gaze grew sly, his smile crooked and knowing. “Oh, no. This boy is my ace in the hole. Ain’t nobody gonna cross me while I got this gun on him. He’s my insurance policy.”

  “Help us!” Carlos shouted.

  The hinges on the door splintered, but the door held. They were down to seconds. God knew what would happen when the door gave way.

  Ramon stared at the door, his eyes wild and crazed.

  Tom looked at Carlos, willing him with every thought to understand. Tom shifted his eyes to the floor, mouthing the word Down as he did it.

  The door crashed open. Tom dove for Ramon’s knees, shoving Carlos to the side.

  He heard a loud crack.

  Something tore into his chest with the force of a freight train.

  And everything went dark.

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  Ava watched them unhook her from her microphone, her heart soaring. Carol Chase looked over at her and said, “Honey, I’m glad you’re a writer. Don’t you dare decide to go on TV. I have enough competition.”

  Heat flooded Ava’s face. She’d been scared half to death, but she’d done it. And even she could tell by the audience reaction that she’d done well. “I owe you the thanks. You made it easy to talk to you.”

  “The camera loves you, and the audience just ate up your personality. If your books are half as good, you’re on your way to the NYT. Romance is lucky to have a spokesperson like you, honey. Now go back into your cave and leave television to me.” Carol Chase grinned and winked, then turned to her producer. “Arnie, book her again to coincide with her next release.” Uncrossing long legs and rising, she stuck out her hand. “A pleasure, Ava. This is going to be one of our more memorable shows.”

  Ava shook her hand, then couldn’t resist and pulled her into an exuberant hug.

  Stiff at first, the star relaxed and laughed. “See—you’re irresistible. Can you stay and have dinner?”

  Ava’s glee dimmed slightly. She shook her head. She had a marriage in trouble. “I’m sorry. I’m on a plane in two hours.”

  “Back to that firebrand husband?”

  “You know about Tom?”

  “Honey, I only look thirty. And I pay good money to look that way. I remember Tom Sinclair verrry well. Damn, he had a cute ass in those tight jeans.”

  Ava grinned. “He still does.”

  “We should have you both on sometime. Two passionate people, still very much in love.” One eyebrow lifted. “Arnie? Make a note. Possible theme for a show.” Then she turned back. “I envy you. Success in your field and still in love with the same man.”

  Ava’s stomach tilted, but she kept smiling. If fate smiled upon her, she would still have that firebrand’s love when she got home. For a while, she’d forgotten that they’d parted badly. But she could fix it. In the flush of this victory, she was filled with confidence that it could be done.

  “Thank you again.”

  Carol Chase waved to a young girl. “Jennifer here will show you out. Goodbye, Ava Sinclair. I’ll watch your comet shoot high. You’re going places, my dear.”

  The words were seductive, the feeling even more so. She’d loved it, once the cameras had started rolling. The same rapport she had with her fans at signings seemed to work here. The audience had loved her, and she had loved them.

  Just keep in mind that while your star is rising, most of us are already headed downhill.

  Ava stumbled slightly.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Sinclair?” the young assistant asked.

  No, I’m scared. “I’m fine. Thanks.” There had to be an answer. Some way to keep her career manageable and still be the woman Tom had always loved.

  You’ve got it all, Ava Sinclair.

  No, she didn’t. And maybe she couldn’t.

  There’s always a price.

  The price would not be Tom. Luisa had no idea what a stubborn Celt could do when her Irish was up. Tom Sinclair was not up for auction. Straightening her shoulders, Ava picked up speed. If she were lucky, she could catch Tom at the office and ask him to meet her plane.

  They had some catching up to do.

  * * *

  Ellie stared into the refrigerator, the dull ache in her head obscuring her ability to think. Another dinner to fix, another meal where Wyatt spoke to the children but exchanged only the most perfunctory remarks with her.

  Another lonely night in a bed that was too big.

  For two weeks now, they’d been living like strangers. For days now, she’d tiptoed around him, played her part in this farce of a marriage. She’d watched him laugh with their children—and watched the laughter die when he looked at her.

  She was fresh out of ideas about how to bridge the chasm between them. He shied from her touch and never inhabited the same room unless the kids were there, too. A few times, she almost thought she’d seen a spark of yearning in his eyes. But maybe she was only imagining it. Maybe it was only she who yearned, as much for her best friend as for her husband and lover.

  Where had it all gone, so fast? Their perfect marriage was only a memory now.

>   She sighed, staring at the contents of her refrigerator as if a magic answer nestled in the crisper. When the phone rang, she almost ignored it but then remembered that only Sam was here, and he was outside. “Hello?”

  “Thank God you’re there.” Laken’s voice was strained.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know where Ava is?”

  Ava had tried several times to call her in recent days, but Ellie had known she couldn’t keep up the charade with her dearest friend. So she hadn’t called back. “No, why?”

  “Tom’s been shot.”

  “Shot?” Ellie couldn’t believe her ears. “Shot?”

  “It’s a long story. Carlos got busted, and Tom was taking Carlos to stay with him and Ava. Ramon held Carlos hostage with a gun. Tom managed to save Carlos but got shot in the process.”

  “How bad is he?”

  “Bad. He’s in surgery right now. Chest wound, nicked an artery near his heart.”

  “And Ava’s not home?”

  “I tried her cell, then I tried to call her agent, but it’s an hour later in New York and everyone’s gone home. Luisa thinks she flew to Chicago today to be on Carol Chase.”

  “So she doesn’t know? What about the kids?”

  “I’m not going to terrify them until we know something. But she’s going to need you, Ellie. We’re checking the airlines right now to see if she’s listed on any flights, and we’re trying to get hold of someone at the Carol Chase Show.”

  “I could go wait at her house. You could call me there if you find out anything.” Ellie’s throat closed up as it hit her afresh. “Oh, dear God. Tom. He can’t—”

  “Luisa’s at the hospital. Gabe says Sylvie’s mother is going to go any minute, so she’s at Hope House. She doesn’t know yet.”

  “I wish I could be in two places.”

  “But Ava will need you worst. I’m headed for the hospital now. I’ll let you know the second we find her.”

  “Or when you know about—”

  Laken’s tone was grim. “He’s going to make it. He has to. Luisa thinks he and Ava had a fight before Ava left.”

  “Oh, no.” With a shock, Ellie realized that she, too, could be in the same position. If something happened to Wyatt while they were still at odds… “I’ll drop Sam off at the neighbor’s and leave a message for Wyatt when he gets home. Do you want me to leave a message for Michael, too?”

  A pause. “No. That won’t be necessary. Look, I’d better go, Ellie.”

  “Laken—” Ellie took a deep breath. “Let this be a lesson to you. Let that man love you. Love him back.”

  “It’s too late for me, but take your own advice.”

  “What does that mean? You and Michael aren’t—”

  “Forget Michael. Grow up, Ellie. You screwed up. Wyatt wouldn’t be so devastated if he didn’t love you so much. Take off the hair shirt and put on something slinky. Use sex if you have to, but don’t let that man get away.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Nothing good ever is.” Laken’s voice turned impatient. “I’ll talk to you as soon as I find out where she is.”

  “I’ll be at her house in thirty minutes or less.” Ellie hung up the phone, and her gaze inexorably went to the photos on the refrigerator, evidence of happier times. Wyatt had her in his arms, preparing to dunk her in the river. The memory of that day shone brightly, so brightly that tears pricked at her eyes. Why hadn’t she known how fragile they were? She and Ava had thought their marriages were indestructible, solid.

  They had been wrong.

  If only Laken were right. If only it were as easy as sex, as simple.

  But one thing for sure—she wasn’t giving up without a fight. The very thought of Wyatt lying on an operating table, this bitterness still between them—

  Ellie choked back a sob and picked up the phone, praying that for once, Wyatt would be in the office instead of out on the job.

  * * *

  Ava stepped out of the cab, frowning at the darkened house. When she’d tried to call, Tom’s phone had still gone to voicemail. Where could he be? Surely Carlos was out of jail by now. Her stomach twisted at the thought of having to call Luisa to find him.

  The sound of a car behind her had her turning, smile at the ready.

  But it wasn’t Tom.

  It was Ellie, stepping out of her car with a look so somber that Ava’s heart stuttered.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

  “Did you just get back?”

  Ava frowned. “How did you know I was gone?”

  Ellie waved an impatient hand. “It doesn’t matter. Sit down, Ava.”

  “Why?”

  Ellie took the bag from her hand and set it down, grasping both of Ava’s hands tightly. “It’s Tom. He’s in the hospital.”

  Her heart rose to her throat. “No. What happened?”

  “He’s been shot.”

  Shot? All Ava could think was that she was too late. That she’d left him with harsh words—

  Her knees gave way. Ellie braced her. “Is he—is he—?” Ava couldn’t say the words.

  “He’s in surgery right now. It’s a chest wound. Very serious, but Laken didn’t know any more than that. Luisa’s there, and Laken is headed that way.”

  “Luisa—” Ava spat out the name. “What is she doing there?”

  “It was Ramon who shot Tom while Tom was trying to save Carlos. Ramon was holding him hostage.”

  Ava couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “I have to go to him. I have to be there. He can’t—I can’t let him die. I—” She clutched at Ellie’s slender arm. “We argued this morning. Over Luisa. He said I didn’t need him, but he’s wrong. I do. Oh, God, Ellie, what if—what if I can’t ever tell him?” Suddenly, everything grayed out.

  “Ava, sit down. Put your head between your legs.”

  Ava jerked away, grasping for the banister. She couldn’t faint. She had to see Tom. “No. I—I’ll be fine. I have to get to Tom.” She turned to her friend. “Will you drive me?”

  “Of course. Let’s put your bag inside first.”

  “I don’t care about the damn bag—leave it there. I have to be with him. Oh, God, Ellie, what if I—what if he—”

  She watched Ellie shove the suitcase behind the big concrete urn spilling over with flowers so bright they rebuked her. How could flowers be blooming when Tom might be dying?

  Ava ran to the passenger side of Ellie’s car and jerked open the door. When Ellie settled inside and turned on the engine, Ava wanted to scream at her to drive fast, to run every light. She gripped her hands tightly, desperate to hold on as though she held Tom’s life in the balance.

  “Which one?”

  “What?”

  “Which hospital?”

  “Mercy.”

  Thank God. It was close. “Hurry, Ellie. Please.”

  Her friend pulled out of the driveway, reaching out to pat her hand. “I’ll get you there, Ava. And he’s not going to die. He can’t. We won’t let him.”

  It was utter bullshit, but the words still held a tiny comfort. But Ellie wasn’t God. She couldn’t control whether Tom lived or died.

  She was here, though. Ava was profoundly grateful not to be alone. “Thank you.”

  Ellie smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “How are you and Wyatt?”

  The smile vanished. “Not good. But I’m going to fix it. Somehow.”

  “We thought we were safe, Ellie. Oh, God… don’t ever let the sun go down on your anger. My mother always taught me that. Why didn’t I listen?”

  “We think we have time, all the time in the world.”

  “Ellie, I won’t be able to stand it if Luisa is with him at the end and I was off serving my ambition. He said—he said there’s always a price—” Fear choked her voice.

  Her friend squeezed her hand again. “Tom loves you, Ava. Only you.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Luisa
has needed him, but that’s not the same thing.”

  “She wants him. I know she does.”

  “Well, she can’t have him. You just let me get hold of her.”

  The thought almost brought a smile to Ava’s face. Ellie as tigress. Then tears blinded her. “Why did I get so caught up in my career? I should have stayed here today. He wouldn’t have been there to get shot. He wouldn’t—”

  “Stop it.” This was the mother Ellie, firm and resolved. “You will not help Tom if you’re hysterical when you get there. Maybe you made a mistake, just like I did. We can’t undo them. Our marriages weren’t bulletproof, after all. But I had a terrific marriage and so did you. We can save them. And we will.”

  Please let her be right, Ava prayed. Please give me a chance. The price is too high. I’ll stop writing. I’ll give it all up. Just please… don’t take Tom from me. I’m not ready.

  Then they were pulling up into the hospital entrance, and Ava hit the pavement at a dead run.

  * * *

  Luisa gripped Carlos’s hand tightly, murmuring prayers one right after the other. At her other side was Consuela, recently returned from the chapel.

  “Mom, he can’t die. He can’t. He saved me. He just can’t—” Carlos was a boy now, a young boy tortured by guilt.

  But his guilt was no greater than her own. If not for her, Tom would never have crossed paths with Ramon.

  “I’m not sorry my dad is dead.” Carlos’s voice held the bitterness of utter disillusionment. “He held a gun on me, Mom. Me. His son.” Then he looked at her, and his face crumpled. “Why, Mom? Why didn’t he love me?”

  She’d thought she’d be happy to have Ramon out of their lives. She should be praising the policeman who had shot him. But it seemed that Ramon’s legacy of pain was never to end. In dying that way, in turning on his own child, all he had accomplished was to condemn Carlos to everlasting torment. The boy had tried so hard to redeem the unredeemable. Despite every warning, he had valiantly struggled to pull his father back from the brink, to set him on a smoother path.

  And his only reward for doing so was to have a gun placed against his temple. To know only Ramon’s twisted version of love.

  And to bear eternal guilt if Tom died saving him. Please don’t make him bear that. I will stay away from Tom. I will never ask for help again. Just please—please let him live. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make, for Tom himself had made it clear where his heart lay. She had had a moment with him when she first arrived at the hospital, taking advantage of the confusion to lie that she was his next of kin because Ava was out of town.