The Heart of Christmas

by Brenda Novak

  He felt helpless standing there, holding his shirt in his hands, watching her.

  When she’d finished dressing, she went over to get her handbag from the chair, but he tossed his shirt aside and stepped toward her. “Don’t let it end like this.” Circling her waist with his hands, he brought her close and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re all I want, even if it’s just for a short time.”

  She moved to push him away, but he held her tight and kissed her cheeks, her forehead and her lips before whispering, “Come on. What’s three weeks? You can give me that much, can’t you?”

  Finally, the tension left her body and she stopped resisting. But when he lifted his head, he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Three weeks?” she repeated.

  “That’s all,” he said. “After Christmas I’m gone.”

  “Why me? There’s Noelle and...and other women here.”

  He kissed her forehead again. “I told you. I want you. We’re good together. You make me feel whole.”

  She shook her head. “See? That’s the type of thing I don’t get. Why wouldn’t you be whole? What’s happened?”

  “Life,” he said. “It’s just life.”

  He released her and began to turn away, but she caught his arm. “Are you dangerous, Brent?”

  That was the trickiest question she’d asked him yet. There’d been times in the past when he’d had to do things he didn’t want to do. If The Crew confronted him, he could be forced to kill again. But he’d never hurt anyone he hadn’t had to hurt in order to save his own life or someone else’s. “I’ve never harmed an innocent.”

  Lines appeared on her forehead. He wasn’t doing much to ease her concerns. She’d probably never met anyone who’d taken a human life, except maybe a soldier, and that type of killing didn’t happen on American soil. His name, his occupation. Those were extraneous details. They described the shell of a person, weren’t representative of that person’s heart, so they didn’t count for all that much. But he couldn’t lie to her about the kind of man he was. That was going too far.

  “An innocent?” she repeated. “Maybe you don’t realize it, but most men don’t talk like that.”

  “I’m not most men, Eve. I admit it. I can’t give you the home and family you deserve. I can’t give you much of anything—except the next three weeks.” He framed her face with his hands. “But I hope that’ll be enough. That we can at least enjoy the time we’ve got. And I hope you know I’m not dangerous, not when it comes to you.”

  She rubbed her temples as if she couldn’t decide, as if knew she should tell him to take a hike but was torn.

  He raised her chin. “What do you say?”

  Again, she didn’t answer, but after another brief hesitation she sighed, then pressed her lips to his bare chest, to his neck, his jaw and, in the end, his mouth.

  * * *

  They’d slept too late to catch breakfast at the B and B where they’d stayed, so they drove to a greasy spoon in Jackson to eat. They were just looking over the menu when Rex received an incoming call from an area code he recognized as from back east.

  “Go ahead and order,” he told Eve, sliding out of the booth. “I’ll have the eggs Benedict. I’ve got to take this.”

  After punching the talk button, he strode outside so he could have a conversation without being overheard. “Virgil?”

  “There you are,” his friend said. “Where the hell have you been? You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Why? Have you been trying to reach me?” They kept contact to a minimum, just to be safe. Virgil hadn’t wanted Rex to return to California. He thought it was asking for trouble. So the last thing Rex wanted was the risk he’d taken to lead The Crew to Virgil and his family. Virgil was more like a brother to him than his real brothers.

  “I’ve called your office several times this week,” Virgil said.

  “What for?”

  “To see how you’re doing. But a Marilyn Burrows keeps telling me you’re ‘unavailable.’”

  “Why didn’t you leave a message? She would’ve gotten it to me.”

  “Just because you trust her doesn’t mean I do. I don’t trust anyone I don’t absolutely have to. That’s how we stay alive, remember? So I wasn’t about to say anything that might tip her off to the fact that you have a friend in New York.”

  “She’s never even heard of The Crew.”

  “But if something about you or your business comes to their attention, that doesn’t mean they won’t contact her.”

  True. He and Virgil could never be too careful. “Then I’m glad we finally connected.”

  “Me, too. I was getting ready to buy a plane ticket so I could come out there and look for your ass.”

  Virgil would’ve dropped everything and done it, too. “There’s no need for you to leave your family,” Rex said. “I’m fine. But God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  There weren’t many things he missed about being incarcerated, but the camaraderie he’d shared with Virgil Skinner was one of them. Virgil had gone to prison at eighteen for murdering his stepfather. Although he was exonerated when certain crucial pieces of evidence came to light, he’d spent fourteen years behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit.

  Rex couldn’t even imagine how angry that would have made him. At least he’d been guilty of the drug charges he’d been put away for a few years after Virgil went in. “How’re Peyton and the kids?”

  “Great. Brady and Anna are growing like weeds. We’re thinking about having another baby.”

  “Why not?” he said. “You guys are the kind of parents that should have several.”

  “How’s your business going?”

  “Can’t complain. Plenty of people out here need a little muscle and are willing to pay for it. What about yours?”

  “Hired three more bodyguards last month.”

  “That brings you to ten, doesn’t it?”

  “So far. Any word from your family?”

  “My family?” Rex repeated.

  “Yeah. Your father. Your brothers. Remember them?”

  He kicked a small rock as he began to pace on the sidewalk. “You know we barely talk.”

  “I know they’re the reason you returned to California. So why aren’t you spending more time with them?”

  He hadn’t been able to figure out how to bridge that gap. Still wasn’t sure. “It’s complicated. And they’re not the reason I returned.” Deep down he knew that was a lie, but his pride demanded he sell it, even though part of him wanted nothing more than to mend those old fences.

  “Then why’d you do it? You’re certainly not any safer there.”

  “I like this state. It’s home to me. And the weather sure as hell beats that refrigerator you live in.” He also hated to let The Crew dictate where he settled, so maybe there were several reasons.

  Virgil laughed. “I like New York, but I can’t argue with you about the cold winters. Anyway, what’s going on? Your email said you’d heard from a mutual friend.”

  “Mona.”

  “Livingston?”

  He pivoted and headed back toward the restaurant. “That’s right.”

  “She still with The Crew?”

  “She is. At this point, I don’t think she’ll ever get away from them. Or escape her addiction.” If getting off crank was half as bad as getting off OxyContin, Rex almost couldn’t blame her. He’d never forget the terrible days he’d spent all alone, shaking and sweating and throwing up in a bathtub in some fleabag motel in the worst part of L.A. That was the price of getting clean. He’d paid that price, but he wouldn’t wish so much suffering on his worst enemy. Just the memory of it was enough to keep him from backsliding, even though—after four years of sobriety—that old craving occasionally welled up, especially when he was stressed or feeling particularly lonely.

  “She’s been a decent friend, despite her problems,” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for her. And you.”

  Thanks to Mona,
Rex had arrived in the nick of time to save his best friend’s life soon after he’d given up drugs. They both owed her a lot. “Well, she’s got more news.”

  “From the tone of your voice, it’s not good news. But if she’s still with The Crew, are you sure it’s safe to remain in contact?”

  “After she helped us before, I gave her a number where she could leave a message any time she was in trouble. It’s a Google number that goes to my email, nothing that could ever be traced to my physical location. Anyway, I hadn’t heard from her in so long, I forgot I’d even set that up. Until two weeks ago. Then I saw that I had a new message waiting for me.”

  “From Mona.”

  “That’s right. But she wasn’t asking for help. She was warning me that certain members of The Crew claim to have new information on my whereabouts. She didn’t say anything about you, but...I wanted to give you a heads-up, in case they’re on the hunt again.”

  “They can’t find me.”

  “Come on. It’s not impossible. They know we’re in the protection business, because that’s what we were doing when they found us in D.C. And what else are we going to do? What else are we qualified for?”

  There was a long silence. Then Virgil said, “I hear ya. Just when we think it’s over, huh?”

  “Those bastards won’t give up. If only we’d known how badly we’d want out when we joined them.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about that,” Virgil said. “We didn’t have any choice. Not if we wanted to survive. You remember what it was like in prison.”

  He did. All too well. Without The Crew, he wouldn’t have had a prayer of getting through those years without being used by any number of men. The “bulls” in prison liked his appearance almost as much as the women he’d met outside, which was why The Crew and everybody else in Corcoran had called him Pretty Boy. “At least I deserve whatever I get. I was guilty of what they put me in for. I really was dealing drugs. That’s how I supported my own habit. But you? You shouldn’t have been in prison to begin with.”

  “Life isn’t always fair, or you wouldn’t have ended up there, either. Prison wasn’t the answer for someone like you. But we can argue about that shit another time. What are you going to do about this latest development?”

  “I’m already doing it.” The wind was picking up. Holding the phone in place with his shoulder, Rex zipped his coat. “I’m going to lie low for a while, see if there’s actually anything to be worried about.”

  “How will you know?”

  “If they’ve found my house or my business, they’ll come poking around before too long. I have security on both that I can check via my computer. And Marilyn will call if anything odd comes to her attention.”

  “She’s running the business while you’re away?”

  “She’s helping. I’m within driving distance, so I can take care of anything she needs me to do.”

  “If that’s true, you’re vulnerable.”

  “So?”

  “So?” Virgil repeated. “Do you like the idea of being shot?”

  “No, but I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hiding, too.”

  “Don’t talk like that. We do what we do because we have no choice.”

  Rex sheltered the phone from the noise of a large truck rumbling past. “You’ve got no choice. You have to look out for Peyton and the kids. Me? Some days I feel like walking into their damn clubhouse just to flip them off.”

  “You do that and you’ll go down in a hail of bullets.”

  “It puts an end to it.”

  “Don’t let them win, Rex. Whatever you do, don’t let them win.”

  He pivoted and started walking in the other direction. “I won’t,” he said, but sometimes it was a seductive vision—when he allowed his temper to get the best of him.

  “You mean that, buddy?” Virgil asked, clearly concerned.

  With a sigh, Rex turned to gaze through the window of the restaurant, where he could see Eve talking to the waitress. How was it that some of the most important decisions of his life had been made before he even knew what he was choosing? Before he even realized what he’d be forced to give up?

  “Yeah, I mean it,” he said. “How’s Laurel?”

  There was another long pause.

  “You’re not going to answer?”

  “It’s been years since the two of you were together, Rex. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about my sister.”

  “I’ll always care about her. That won’t change.”

  “Caring is one thing, but—” Virgil blew out an audible sigh. “Never mind. She’s fine. She and Miles are happy, in case that question’s coming next. So...if you’re waiting around, hoping they’ll split—”

  “No, I wouldn’t want that,” Rex interrupted, and he meant it. “I know he’s made her far happier than I ever could.”

  “She had a hard time getting over you, too. Don’t think it was easy for her.”

  “You don’t have to justify her actions. I get it. Any woman in her right mind would’ve chosen Miles. The good sheriff comes with fewer...complications.”

  “She’s lived a messed-up life, too,” Virgil said. “Between both of you, there was too much shit that’d gone down. But someday you’ll meet the woman who’s right for you.”

  “A nice girl I can introduce to the fact that I’m being hunted by my old gang? Hardened criminals who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in me? That I’m an ex-con, ex-addict and being with me puts her in danger? I’m quite the catch, wouldn’t you say?”

  He’d been joking, but Virgil didn’t seem to find any humor in what he’d said. “Peyton and I are making it work.”

  “If you call living in fear that The Crew could find you at any moment making it work.”

  “If anything happens to Peyton, or the kids, it’s war,” he said. “I hope those bastards know that.”

  They didn’t care. They’d welcome the violence. They lived for upping their body count.

  “I’m with you,” Rex said. War, he could handle. After living as he’d been living, it would almost be a relief to confront his enemy. He would already have driven to L.A. and barged into whatever shit-hole their leaders were occupying these days if he thought he could put an end to the stranglehold they had on his life or Virgil’s. But he and Virgil had confronted The Crew on several occasions. They’d even killed in self-defense. And it hadn’t changed anything. More thugs just filled the shoes of the ones who were removed.

  “I know you are, buddy,” Virgil said. “I’ve always been able to count on you.”

  They still had the friendship that’d carried them through so much. But...

  Rex turned to glance at Eve again. He wasn’t about to drag a woman into the crossfire. He’d lost too many people he cared about over the years. He couldn’t risk losing another.

  13

  While Eve was waiting for Brent and the food she’d ordered, a text came in from Cheyenne. Chey had tried calling earlier, but Eve hadn’t picked up. She hadn’t wanted to talk to her best friend in front of Brent. She wasn’t sure she should respond even now that she had some privacy. She knew she was probably making a mistake getting involved with him. All the signs were there. Even Dylan, who didn’t cry wolf unless he perceived a real threat, had tried to warn her....

  She felt as if she was hurtling toward the sun, trapped by its gravitational force and unable to change course.

  At least it was quite the cosmic ride, she told herself. Especially exhilarating for a small-town girl who’d known most of the other people in her life for years and years. An attractive, enigmatic, here-and-then-gone man like Brent was quite the novelty. And the possibility of being or becoming pregnant intensified the risks and the rewards. But the possibility of having his baby was beginning to take on special significance—further proof that she was too wrapped up in a man who had already put her on notice that he wouldn’t be part of her life for more than a few weeks.

  How’d it go last night? Cheyenne had a
sked.

  After checking the entrance of the restaurant to make sure Brent wasn’t on his way back in, she wrote, I’ve climbed aboard the big roller coaster.

  That response makes me a little nervous. Want to explain?

  Having Brent in my life is both thrilling and frightening.

  Frightening is not very reassuring. Did he stay with you last night?

  Yes. And it was crazy good....

  There’s that. So when did he leave?

  He didn’t. We’re in Jackson, about to have breakfast at Jemima’s Kitchen.

  He’s there now?

  He stepped out to take a call.

  This time there was a slight pause before Cheyenne responded—long enough that Eve took a sip of her orange juice and smiled politely at the waitress as she passed by. Finally, a telltale ping alerted her to another incoming text.

  There’s no guarantee Dylan’s right, Eve.

  So Dyl had voiced his concerns to his wife, which meant Cheyenne was worried, too, and trying to compensate for that. Or she was trying to get Eve to open up so she could warn her again.

  There are definitely reasons to be concerned, she admitted.

  Specifically...

  I don’t know a lot about him.

  That’s usual when you just meet someone.

  Which was why she’d been foolish to sleep with him that first night. He’s also as guarded as Dyl says.

  At one point you were worried about the kind of man Dylan was, because of his reputation, remember? And look how well it’s turned out for us. This thing with Brent doesn’t have to end badly.

  But it’s going to, she wrote, then she erased it and put, Right. I guess we’ll see.