THE HOMECOMING

by Maggie Shayne

  But there was click and then a dial tone. Before he could think it through, Jasmine drummed her fingers over the keypad, hitting random numbers before Petronella yanked the phone off the desk and threw it on the floor. Now redial would do him no good, either.

  "Whoever it was, they're on their way here with the police right now."

  To her amazement, a distant siren punctuated the sentence.

  Petronella backed away. "You think this is gonna save you? Do you? I'll find you, you smug little bitch. And your kid, too."

  She shook her head. "Not if you're in jail, you won't."

  He undid the lock, yanked open the door. A blast of sound rushed in, so much noise she thought a riot must have broken out in the bar. Petronella ran down the hall and out the back door. She stepped into the hall after him, but turned sharply at the sound of a familiar voice.

  "That's it! I don't give a damn what your justification was, I don't want you dancing for men like that anymore. And maybe that sounds old-fashioned, and maybe you don't want any man telling you what to do." He was striding down the hall with a dancer flung over his shoulder. He stopped, set her down and softened his tone. "Well, fine, then, I won't tell you. I'm begging you. Please, don't get up on that stage again. It twists me all up inside."

  The sounds of cracking bones and shattering glass came from the barroom. The sound of Petronella's car squealing away came from out back. Jasmine smiled crookedly, a little lump forming in her throat. The dancer wasn't so touched by Luke's emotional declaration, though. She hauled off and smacked him hard across the face.

  Luke recoiled, blinking in shock. "What the hell was that for?"

  "Maybe she doesn't like being manhandled by strangers," Jasmine said.

  It was Jasmine's voice he heard, and it wasn't coming from the half-naked woman he'd just carried off the stage. He turned his head slowly and saw her standing there, looking less like the woman he'd fallen head over heels for and more like the one who'd first shown up on his doorstep. Big hair, coats of makeup, skimpy clothes.

  "You've got to be kidding me," Elliot said from behind him. Luke turned to see Elliot, Garrett, Ben and Wes stumbling through the curtains into the backstage area off to the right. Each of them rubbing a different body part, they hurried to the hall. The riot out front seemed content to go on without them.

  Luke swallowed hard and looked at the girl in front of him. Reaching out, he tugged off her face mask. She was cute and young and angry as hell. He shrugged. "Sorry."

  Jasmine crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "So just what the hell do you think you're doing, Luke?"

  "I … I thought she was you," he said in defense.

  "Oh, and if she had been, that would have been all right? Dammit, Luke, I had a plan!"

  "What, to dance around up there half-naked so the bad guys would be sure to have a good clear shot at you?"

  The young dancer was looking from one of them to the other, wide-eyed, and backing away. "You're both crazy," she muttered.

  "Yeah, well, you're too young to be stripping, so get your backside home before the sheriff here tosses you into jail," Luke muttered. He dragged his gaze away from Jasmine just long enough to send the girl a look that had her scurrying into the dressing room, slamming the door behind her, then he focused again on his reason for being here. His reason for being … period. He swore softly before he closed the distance between him and Jasmine in two long strides. Then he pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard to his chest. "Damn, I'm glad to see you alive."

  She sighed in what sounded like exasperation. But she didn't pull away, and she even hugged him back. "Come on," she said. "Thanks to you, Petronella got away. But we have the goods on him now."

  Luke backed off, glanced at her.

  "I'll explain later. I just need to grab something out of Leo's office first."

  She ducked back inside. Luke followed her, not knowing what the hell had transpired before he'd arrived. He watched as Jasmine went to a shelf in one corner, shoved some notebooks aside and pulled out a small camcorder. She pushed the stop button, then ejected a small tape. Then she went to the desk, opened the drawer and took out a minirecorder, taking the microcassette from that, as well. Coming forward, she took his arm as sirens screamed outside.

  "We'd better slip out the back," Jasmine said, leading Luke back into the hallway with his cousins. "Technically, I'm still wanted for murder."

  "Wait up a sec," Elliot said. He tapped on the dressing room door. "Hey, come on, we'll give you a ride out of this hole."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you lunatics," the dancer squeaked.

  Elliot looked at Garret, brows raised. Garrett sighed. "Damn, I hate being the heavy. All right." He hauled his badge out of his pocket and walked into the dressing room. When he came out again, he had the girl by the arm. She looked scared half to death, but at least she was decently covered now in a long wrap, Luke saw with relief.

  "Everyone, this is Misti," Jasmine said. "She's new here."

  Luke pushed open the back door, and they all trooped out to Ben's SUV and piled in: Garrett in the front with Ben, Jasmine in the middle seat beside Luke, and in the back, Misti, Elliot and Wes. Police cars pulled up out front as they drove away. Their flashing red lights bathed the bar's open door and cast a strobe effect over the brawlers who'd spilled out into the street. Broken glass winked in the intermittent glow.

  Jasmine shook her head. "What the hell did you guys do in there?"

  "What, you don't know?" Elliot asked. "We rescued you!"

  She rolled her eyes. "Leo will have to close down for a week just to fix the place up."

  "That's gonna be a real drain on the moral fortitude of Chicago, I'll bet," Luke said.

  She narrowed her eyes on him. "Some people depend on that place for their living."

  "Yeah, well, some people depend on some pretty sleazy things in the name of money, Jasmine. That doesn't make them right."

  "So now you're what, the Moral Majority?"

  "Closest thing to it in this part of town."

  "How dare you sit there and judge me?"

  He blinked and stared at her. Somewhere, somehow, he'd gotten in over his head. "That's not what I was doing?"

  "You damned well were!"

  "No, I wasn't!"

  "Were so," Misti put in with a huff. "And me, too."

  "You don't need to be judged, you need to be grounded and sent to bed without supper."

  "You wish," she snapped.

  "I meant it literally, kid, not figuratively. And as for you," he said, and turned back to Jasmine.

  "Stop this car and let me out," Jasmine said. "I've managed to get through my whole life without some half-baked male telling me how to run it. I don't intend to change now."

  "Oh, and look where it's gotten you!" Luke said, his voice louder now.

  Jasmine went utterly still, staring at him, stricken. "You mean the fact that I'm an unmarried mother who strips for a living?"

  The pain in her voice, in her face, when she said those words to him shocked him into silence. He stammered, but nothing intelligible came out of his mouth, and then Jasmine opened her door and said, "Stop the car, Ben, or I'll jump out while it's moving."

  Ben must have believed she meant it—Luke knew he sure as hell did—because he hit the brakes. Jasmine got out.

  Garrett glared at Luke, and Wes shoved him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go after her. We'll drive around the block till you've finished groveling, cuz."

  Luke jumped out of the vehicle and took off after Jasmine. She moved fast for someone walking on five-inch railroad spikes, but he caught up in short order, gripped her shoulders and spun her around. "That's not what I meant, and you damned well know it," he managed to say. He'd been thinking up an appropriate apology for several yards and realized too late that wasn't it.

  "Then just what did you mean? Hmm?" Hands on her hips, she tapped one foot rapidly on the cracked sidewalk. "Well? I'm waiting?"


  "I meant that making decisions on your own has gotten you into this situation that you're in right now. Running for your life, set up for murder, and too damned stubborn to let anyone help you."

  "Oh, right. Like you?"

  "Yeah. Like me."

  "For your information, Luke, I had a plan back there. I gave Leo no choice but to cooperate, and it was working. I got Petronella admitting everything on tape. Audio and video! But you came along and distracted me, and he slipped away! I don't need your damned help!"

  "I know you don't!" he shouted. Then, licking his lips, he lowered his head. "I know you don't. I came charging up here wanting to be your hero—like something out of a fairy tale, I guess. And here you were, doing just fine without me." He shrugged. "It's kind of deflating, you know?"

  She seemed to soften just a little. "You … really? You came to rescue me? Like Elliot said?"

  "Yeah. Really."

  "Hey, mister," a voice said from behind him.

  Luke waved a hand in the air without turning around to look. "Go away. I'm busy. Jasmine, I meant well, I really did. I was trying to save your life when I marched up on that stage the way I did."

  She thought about that, then pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "No way, Luke. If you're going to be honest here, let's do it all the way. You were all ticked off 'cuz you thought that was me up there shaking my tassels in front of strangers. Admit it. You didn't give a single thought to my safety at that moment. You were just plain jealous and possessive, like some kind of bossy, overbearing Neanderthal."

  "Mister!" the voice behind him said again.

  "Dammit, can't you see I'm in the middle of something here?" Luke snapped. He turned partway around this time.

  The kid stood behind him looking like yesterday's garbage. He had a blade in his hand, and he said, "Just gimme your wallet and you won't get hurt."

  Jasmine sucked in a sharp breath. "Give it to him, Luke," she whispered.

  "Oh, for crying out loud," Luke said. "Fine, here's my wallet." He punched the kid in the face so hard his nose crunched and his lip split. Blood spurted, and the kid went down. Luke bent long enough to snatch up the blade, whipped it over a nearby fence, then turned back to Jasmine again. "Look, maybe you're right, maybe I was out of line, and maybe it did bug me to see you—or think I saw you—dancing for all those men." He lowered his head. "If that makes me a closed-minded Neanderthal, then I guess I'm guilty."

  She was staring at him, wide-eyed, her gaze darting every now and then to the kid on the ground behind him. Luke kept his eyes on Jasmine. He heard Ben's SUV coming around the block, recognized the sound of the engine.

  "Come on, please? Just come with me. Someplace where we can talk? Please?"

  Blinking slowly, she nodded. The SUV stopped, and they stepped around the kid, who was pulling himself to his feet. Luke held Jasmine's arm in one hand and opened the door for her with the other.

  Garrett nodded toward the kid, who'd taken off at an uneven run, clutching his bloodied nose. "Trouble?"

  Luke followed his gaze. "Not so you'd notice."

  "Well, if Luke is done picking on the locals, can we get something to eat somewhere before we head back home? My belly button's touching my backbone," Elliot said.

  Jasmine sighed, lowered her eyes. "I can't go back with you guys. Not until I finish what I came here to do."

  She lifted her head again and met Luke's eyes. "And don't you dare try to tell me I can't. That man is still on the loose. He's still a threat to my son, and I'm not going anywhere until I see to it that he's not."

  Luke set his jaw, deciding it was better not to reply to that just now. Drawing a calming breath, he said, "Get us back on the highway, Ben. Best truck stop in the state is ten miles out. We'll get a good meal there and figure out what we're doing next."

  Very softly, a throat cleared. All eyes turned to Misti, whom Luke had forgotten was still with them. "What about me?" she asked.

  "You are going back home to your family," Garrett said.

  "No way," she snapped.

  Garrett eyed her. "They abuse you?"

  Her brows came down fast. "No. I just don't get along with my mom. She doesn't understand me." And she averted her eyes.

  "Hell, kid, a few years ago she was you. Trust me on this. Now, tell me where you live so I don't have to haul you into some juvey center somewhere."

  Pouting, clearly ticked off, but maybe just a tiny bit relieved, she said, "Cedar Lake, Indiana."

  Elliot was already unfolding the map in the back seat.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Two hours later, they sat in a big booth at a truck stop, three on each side of the Formica table. Jasmine had made a point to squeeze into the side with Garrett and Elliot, rather than on the other padded seat with Luke. He was crammed over there between Ben and Wes and looking as if he thought he was the wronged party here.

  She really was doing her best to stay angry with him for chasing her up here, for telling her what to do, for leaving Baxter when he'd promised to take care of him. And mostly for acting so damned judgmental about her former career. Hell, it hurt that he thought badly of her. It hurt a hell of a lot more than it should.

  And yet … she was touched in spite of herself that he had come here after her, that he had wanted to be her hero.

  They'd dropped Misti off at her house. Jasmine had tried like hell not to be affected by that little scene. A middle-aged woman in a housecoat had come to the door to see who was outside. When she saw Misti get out of the hulking vehicle, she burst into tears and ran down the steps, wrapping her up tight and thanking Jesus out loud. When Jasmine had looked around her, she'd seen the big, ragged Brand men at their dopiest. Every last one of them choked up and trying to hide it. She glimpsed ten damp eyes and five crooked smiles in that SUV. And as much as she knew about men, she realized she was only just beginning to know these men.

  She watched them smile kindly at the harried waitress as they ordered enough food for an entire football team and told her to keep the coffee coming, and she knew they weren't flirting. They were genuine. It was freaking eerie.

  Jasmine had never liked men. Baxter's father had worked hard to gain her trust. He'd conned her all the way into his bed, then vanished the day she told him she was pregnant. She'd been young and, she thought, in love. He'd broken her heart. She hadn't trusted men since, and she hadn't ever thought that would change. These men, however, had given her no choice in the matter. In spite of herself, she felt safe with them. She felt cared for. As if she were something important to them, something worth protecting.

  Sighing, leaning back in her bench seat crammed between two of the creatures she'd spent her life detesting, she said, "So where's my son, Luke? You promised me you'd take care of him, and yet here you are, and I don't see him anywhere."

  Luke met her eyes across the table. "Baxter was fine once he got done crying himself into fits over waking up to find his mother gone."

  She flinched. That blow hit home. "I left so I could make things right for him."

  "He knows that. You think that made it any easier?"

  She lowered her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt him. It was the only way I could see to—"

  "It was the only way you could see because you have tunnel vision." She lifted her head, ready to snap back at him, but he shook his head and went on. "He's staying with Chelsea and Bubba until we get back."

  "And you think Chelsea and Bubba will be able to protect him if Gianni Petronella finds out where he is?"

  "No. I don't. That's why Lash and Jessi are there, too, along with Adam and Kirsten, and Taylor and Penny and Esmeralda … the whole family is closing ranks around Baxter," Luke said. "And not just the local ones, either."

  Frowning, Jasmine averted her eyes. But he went right on. "By now I imagine Marcus and Casey have arrived, too—they only had a two-hour drive. Sara and Jake will make it in before the night's out. It's a longer haul from Gator's Bayou,
Louisiana."

  She lifted her head slowly. "I don't understand."

  "That's because you've never had a family around you. That's the way family works, Jasmine. They pull together, they take care of each other."

  She locked her gaze with his. "Baxter isn't part of your family. He's mine. I'm his family."

  For a long, tense moment he stared back at her, and she knew her words had pissed him off on some level. Why, how, she wasn't sure. She didn't pretend to understand him, and she told herself she didn't want to try. But she knew that was a lie. Why, why, did she have to get so defensive where Bax was concerned? She knew Luke adored him.

  "Shoot, don't try to tell Bubba that," Garrett said. His voice, lightened by his smile, broke the building tension. "He sure does think of Baxter as family."

  "We all do," Wes said. "Family doesn't have to be bound by blood, Jasmine. Love is the real bond."

  Ben nodded in agreement. "Rosebud was family to you, wasn't she?"

  Jasmine closed her eyes slowly. "Rosebud was my best friend. She was like a sister to me, and she'd have given her right arm for Baxter."

  "News flash, Jasmine," Elliot said from beside her. "So would any of us."

  She shot Elliot a glance, but he was already looking away from her, focused now on the waitress who was bearing down on them with a laden tray. "Ahh, here comes sustenance. And not a moment too soon, either!" Elliot got up and took the tray from the woman's hands, then stood quietly while she lifted the plates of food from it and deposited them on the table. The whole time she worked, she wore this look of amazed gratitude. When the tray was empty and she took it from him again, Elliot said, "Thank you, ma'am," as he slid back into his seat.

  She smiled. "Thank me? You keep this up, it'll be me leaving you a tip." Giving him a friendly wink, she strolled away.

  Jasmine watched. Some guy at another table was glaring at the waitress and tapping his empty coffee cup, while another party waved impatiently to get her attention. The Brand men were different. No doubt about it. It got very quiet as they dug into their meals. Jasmine gnawed on her burger and fries without really tasting them, and wondered how in the hell she was going to find Gianni Petronella.