by Sandra Brown
“So,” she continued, “we didn’t find out what was wrong until he had renal failure. He was diagnosed with a rare kidney disease. Since then, he’s been on dialysis. Nobody in town knows. We’ve kept it a secret so he wouldn’t lose his job. But even that isn’t important now.”
She took a tissue from her purse and blotted her eyes. “Anyway, his kidneys are shot. The dialysis isn’t working anymore. He’s got to have a transplant to survive.”
“I’m sorry for you both.”
“Jade,” Donna Dee said beseechingly, “the best hope Hutch has of a transplant is your son.”
“What?” she gasped with disbelief.
Donna Dee left her chair and moved to within inches of Jade. “Hutch and I never had any children. We tried everything, but I never got pregnant. Dora died two years ago, so Hutch doesn’t have any family left.
“Before we find a random donor, he could run out of time. Jade,” she cried, reaching out to clutch Jade’s arm, “if Hutch is Graham’s father, Graham could be the donor Hutch needs.”
Jade pulled her arm free and backed away from her as though she had a contagious disease. “Have you lost your mind? Never, Donna Dee.”
“For God’s sake, we’re talking about a human life!”
“Yes, exactly—Gary’s life. He died as a consequence of what Hutch did to me, no matter how you whitewash it for your conscience. You knew damn well I was telling the truth that day in the sheriff’s office. You knew, Donna Dee! Afterward, you perpetuated the lies being told about me.”
“I was eighteen fucking years old,” she shouted. “I was pissed off because the guy I was crazy about lusted after my best friend and not me.”
“That’s hardly justification. Your petty jealousy is partially responsible for driving Gary to commit suicide.”
Donna Dee covered her ears with her hands, but Jade pulled them down.
“I wouldn’t sacrifice one drop of my son’s blood on the outside chance that it would save Hutch’s life.”
“You’re a self-righteous, self-important bitch,” Donna Dee said scathingly. “You always were.”
“The most important thing in the world to me now is my son. My son, Donna Dee. He belongs to no one but me. And no one is going to touch him.”
Donna Dee’s glare was so blatantly full of hatred that, had Jade’s resolve not been so strong, it might have quelled her. Donna Dee turned her back, opened the door, and stalked out. Jade hastily locked the door behind her, then lunged for the telephone.
Cathy answered on the second ring. “Cathy, is Graham there?”
“Of course. He’s sitting right here eating his supper. You told us to go ahead without you.”
“Yes, yes, I’m glad you did.” Her knees were trembling. She sank into the chair behind her desk. “Listen, Cathy, I’d rather Graham not go outside again this evening. Not even to ride his bike on the street, or to skateboard or shoot baskets.”
“We planned to watch a movie on HBO after supper.”
“Good. That’s fine.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Does this have anything to do with Mrs. Jolly stopping by earlier?”
“Yes, but I’d rather you not say anything about it to Graham.”
She sensed Cathy’s disapproval through the ensuing silence. “He wants to say hi.”
“Put him on.”
“Hey, Mom, when’re you coming home?”
“Soon. Wait up for me.”
* * *
“What the—”
Dillon swerved to avoid hitting the dog. Loner had darted out from the ditch along the highway and ran across the road directly in the pickup’s path. Dillon slammed on his brakes, laying rubber for several yards.
“You stupid mutt!” he shouted through the window.
Hearing the familiar voice, Loner skidded to a halt on the pavement. He cocked his head and looked at the pickup, then charged toward it in a frenzy of glee. Dillon opened the drivers-side door. Loner leaped into his lap, licking his face and thumping the steering wheel with his wagging tail.
“Dumb dog, get off me. Jesus, you stink. When’s the last time you had a bath?” He shoved Loner off his lap and dropped the car into gear again. Once they were under way, he cast the animal a sidelong glance. Loner was giving him a lovesick look. His tongue was lolling from one side of his mouth. He was panting hard.
“I’ve told you a thousand times not to love me, but you just don’t listen, do you?”
Dillon admitted that it was nice to be welcomed home after a twelve-day absence, even if the only one to have missed him was a mongrel with no more brains than to run across the road in front of a two-ton pickup. In spite of himself, he’d grown attached to the dog. He watched for him when he wasn’t lurking around the trailer and worried about him until he showed up again.
He scratched the animal behind his left ear. “Where were you off to? Or were you on your way home? Were you out to see a lady?” Loner stopped panting and raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Did you get any?” Loner whined. Ruefully, Dillon said, “I know the feeling.”
He draped is left wrist over the steering wheel and continued patting Loner with his right hand. At this time of night there was little traffic. It was mindless driving, which was good, because Dillon’s mind wasn’t on driving.
He had missed her.
He had cut his trip two days short. Unnecessarily, he had driven for six hours to get home tonight when tomorrow by noon would have done just as well. And since when had he started thinking of this place—or any place—as home?
Since there was someone here he was eager to see.
That had scared the hell out of him—scared him so badly that he had almost talked himself into abandoning the TexTile pickup in Knoxville and simply disappearing again. He hadn’t wrestled with the notion for long, however.
“For one thing,” he said to the attentive Loner, “walking away from problems like that is a cowardly way to deal with them.”
What purpose had it served for him to drop out of society when Debra died? It had temporarily anesthetized him, enabling him to continue living when he had been absolutely indifferent to life. Following his discovery of the bodies, his only reason for living was to give Haskell Scanlan pain. Having done that, he hadn’t cared if he ever drew another breath.
But some motivating factor had kept him alive. Like a computer chip, something minute but active, buried deep inside his consciousness, had seen to it that he went on living. Now, he knew why. TexTile. He was meant to build this plant. He believed that with every fiber of his being.
“So, I’ve got to complete it. I’ve got to prove to myself that I can stick it out to the bitter end. Understand?” Loner whined and dropped his head onto Dillon’s thigh. “Yeah, I know. Life’s a bitch.”
He hadn’t wanted to grow attached to the dog, yet here he was with a lump in his throat because the stupid mutt was glad to have him home. He hadn’t wanted to like the boy, either, but Graham was exactly the kind of kid he would have wanted Charlie to be. He was inquisitive, bright, friendly, and was just mischievous enough to keep him from being a nerd.
“How’s Graham been doing?” he asked Loner. “Seen him around much? Maybe next time I go out of town for any length of time, I’ll ask him to give you your weekly bath.” Loner flopped his tail from one side of his rump to the other in half-hearted approval of the idea. He wasn’t crazy about baths. “I could offer to give him a few bucks. Boys his age always need spending money.”
Before he left, Jade had apologized for Graham’s hanging around the site. She thought the boy had made a nuisance of himself by getting in Dillon’s way and asking questions. Actually, he was flattered whenever Graham tagged along beside him. His questions and observations were sometimes humorous, other times astute. In spite of himself, he looked forward to seeing Graham again.
He had avoided thinking about it during the six-hour drive, but now, when he was only a few minutes away
from his destination, he felt compelled to acknowledge the real reason for his rush to get back: he was eager to see Jade.
He had a lot to report, of course. And he was sure there was a lot she would need to fill him in on. Things that had happened while he was away would have to be discussed.
But was business the only reason he wanted to see her? He hoped to God it was, because any other reason was disloyal to Debra and just plain stupid. He should have picked up a woman while he was out of town. If he had taken a warm, willing woman to bed, maybe he wouldn’t be so edgy. Maybe he wouldn’t be looking so forward to seeing Jade. Maybe his cock wouldn’t be hard with just the memory of how she had looked standing against a rising thunderstorm.
He wheeled the pickup into the gravel track leading to his trailer. Loner, sensing that he was home, stood up in the seat and shook himself from nose to tail. Dillon chuckled, but his laughter broke off when he saw the light on inside the portable building and Jade’s Cherokee parked out front.
“What the hell is she doing out here at this time of night?”
He parked the pickup and got out. Loner slipped past him and headed for his water dish. Dillon tried the door of the office. It was locked.
“Jade?” He removed his key from his jeans pocket and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open silently.
Her head lay on top of her desk; she was asleep. Dillon tiptoed forward. “Jade?”
She didn’t stir. Her head was pillowed on her extended arm. His eyes were drawn down to her hand. She had very slender fingers. Her hand was delicate and, in repose, fragile-looking. Her hair was a riot of wavy disarray, spilling across her arm and the paperwork she had fallen asleep over. It was inky black, the perfect complement to her fair complexion.
There was a faint blush on the cheek that was turned up. Her eyebrow was as smooth and glossy as one painted onto a china doll. She was deeply asleep. She breathed through slightly parted lips.
Dillon’s desire to touch her was a visceral ache.
He debated with himself on what he should do. She wouldn’t welcome being found in such a vulnerable position. It would be awkward for them both and might affect their working relationship, which he didn’t want to jeopardize under any circumstances. She obviously wasn’t in any discomfort.
All things considered, it would be best to leave her as she was. If she woke up and noticed that he was back, she could come to his trailer and initiate a conversation if she wanted to. Otherwise, they would see each other first thing in the morning. He saw no reason for the lamp to be shining full on her face, however, and leaned across the desk to switch it off.
The instant the office went dark, she woke up.
“No!” She shot out of her chair, nearly knocking heads with him.
“Jade, it’s me.”
“Don’t touch me.” She fumbled with the items strewn across her desk.
“What are you doing?”
“If you touch me, I’ll kill you.”
Dillon, bewildered by her violent reaction, looked down at her outstretched hands and saw the cold glint of metal. “Jade,” he said calmly, “it’s me, Dillon.” He reached for the lamp switch.
“No!” She made a jabbing motion toward his belly with the letter opener.
“Christ.”
She was obviously still asleep, or so disoriented that she didn’t realize what she was doing. Before one or both of them got hurt, he lunged across the desk and grabbed her hands. The telephone crashed to the floor. Paperwork scattered like autumn leaves in a high wind. Jade screamed. They fought for control of the letter opener. She fell against the wall behind her, knocking a calendar off its hook.
He twisted her hands, but she wouldn’t release her grip on the letter opener. Even though she seemed to be imbued with superhuman strength, he knew he must be hurting her. He would apologize later. First, he had to keep her from ripping a hole in his gut.
He finally got a firm grip on both her wrists and swung them up above her head. He slammed his body into hers, pinning her between himself and the wall. She slung her head wildly from side to side.
“You’ll have to kill me first.”
“Jade.”
“I won’t let you. You’ll have to kill me.”
“Jade!”
It was as though he had entered her nightmare and slapped her awake. She ceased struggling instantly. Her head became still. Her breasts rose and fell drastically against his chest.
“Who is it?”
He could feel her rapid breath on his face. “It’s Dillon.”
“Dillon?”
“That’s right.”
“Dillon?”
“Yes.”
Exhausted, he bent his head over hers, resting it on her forehead while he sucked in drafts of air. He released her wrists. When he did, her arms fell lifelessly to her sides.
“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely.
She nodded. He stepped away from her and clicked on the lamp. The letter opener still in her hand had a serrated blade. It could have been deadly.
“Jesus,” he swore. “What the hell were you trying to do with that damn thing?”
Jade dropped the letter opener onto the desk and simultaneously collapsed into her chair. “Protect myself.”
She was pale, trembling, and breathless, but otherwise seemed no worse for wear. Seeing that she was all right, Dillon allowed himself to get mad. “You damn near gutted me.”
Jade propped her elbow on her desk and pushed a handful of hair out of her face. “You shouldn’t have sneaked up on me.”
“I didn’t sneak. I made a hell of a racket outside. I called your name twice.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I didn’t want to startle you.”
“Oh, so you just leaned over me like you were going to smother me.”
He let loose a string of curses.
“What are you doing here anyway? What time is it?” she asked, apparently still confused from being awakened so abruptly.
“Not that late,” he replied. “Just after eleven.”
“Oh, lord.” She picked the telephone off the floor. While she placed a call to her house, Dillon stood at the edge of her desk, glaring down at her. “I’m glad you arrived when you did,” she said as she replaced the receiver. “Cathy was worried, but said she hated to call and interrupt me while I was working.”
“What the hell were you thinking of to stay out here by yourself after dark?” he asked angrily. “You’re lucky it was me who came through that door.”
“The door was locked.”
“As though that would stop anybody who wanted in badly enough.”
“Well, nothing tragic happened, so let’s just forget it, shall we?”
That belittling tone of hers never failed to set his teeth on edge. As she came around her desk, he blocked her path. “We’ll forget it when I say it’s time to forget it. It’s not safe for a woman to be out here alone, miles from town, after dark. Don’t do it again.”
“May I remind you that you’re not in a position of authority over me?”
“Dammit, forget our positions. This has nothing to do with work. Besides, the only time you pull rank on me is when you know you’re wrong.”
Her eyes blazed up at him. “If it had been anybody but you, Loner would have barked to alert me of danger.”
Dillon lowered his head closer to hers. “Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, for your information, Loner wasn’t here,” he said softly. “He was out looking to get laid. If he had gotten lucky, he probably wouldn’t have been back before daylight.”
Irritated and embarrassed, she glanced away. “I appreciate your concern for my safety.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not all that concerned. I’m just trying to talk a little common sense into somebody who obviously has shit for brains.”
Her head came back around swiftly. “I’m glad you used that particular turn of phrase
. It reminds me to tell you not to use foul language in front of my son.”
“Have you been eavesdropping on my conversations with Graham?”
“Certainly not. He quotes you. He thinks you’re bloody marvelous.”
That gave him a warm rush of pleasure. “Really?”
“Really. So watch what you say around him.”
“I haven’t said anything he doesn’t hear on cable TV, and probably in his classroom at school.”
“That’s beside the point, isn’t it?”
“No. It’s precisely the point. Unless you want Graham to be a pantywaist, cut him some slack, let him say a few dirty words. He’s around women too much. The time he spends out here with the men is good for him.”
“Which brings me to another matter. Don’t encourage him to ride his bicycle out here.”
“I didn’t.”
“He said you did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You’ve never talked to him about riding his bike out here?”
“Sure, the subject came up. I said it was something for you to decide.”
“Well, since I’m his mother, thank you very much.”
He knew then that he was going to kiss her again. It was folly of the highest caliber, but he was going to do it anyway, and, once he made up his mind to, he didn’t think anything could have stopped him.
He slid his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back, then lowered his mouth to hers. In her surprise, her breath rushed out of her mouth. He felt it against his lips, tasted it. When he did, every other thought flew right out of his head. He didn’t think about the consequences of this kiss—because it was a foregone conclusion that as soon as it was over, she was going to fire him. He didn’t think about Debra. He didn’t think at all. He merely responded to the wonderfully erotic stimuli that kissing Jade transmitted to him.
The tip of his tongue flicked across her lips, then he pressed it into her mouth. She was stunned; he could tell. Her body became as inflexible as a flagpole and she stopped breathing. He didn’t let her nonparticipation deter him, however. He exercised the technique he had mastered years ago and slowly made love to her mouth. His tongue dipped into it, then withdrew, again and again, until her breathing resumed and she raised her hands to clutch his arms.