Like Silk

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Like Silk Page 21

by Mary Lynn Baxter


  It was all Mason could do not to grab the sonofabitch by his tie and knock his gloating head off. “Now that you’ve dropped your bombshell, I’m out of here.”

  “Not so fast,” Rupert said with an easy smile. “The best is yet to come—her name.”

  “I’m waiting.” Mason’s tone was both harsh and weary.

  “It’s Brittany Banks.”

  While that name obviously was supposed to have been a slap in the face, it wasn’t. Mason had heard it before; he would admit that. But at the moment he couldn’t say why or from what source.

  Rupert’s grin widened, and Mason’s heart sank even further, realizing Rupert smelled blood and was about to move in for the kill. He hardened his heart and his nerves, preparing for the lethal blow.

  “She’s Tommy Rogers’ sister.” His gloating, Cheshire cat grin took on new meaning. “Yeah, my friend, he’s playing footsie with the enemy. How ’bout them apples?”

  Mason’s temper flared to stroke level. “You bastard, you’re a damned liar. You’ll stoop to anything just to get even with me and my family.”

  Rupert gave him another sly grin. “Your son’s the one who gave me the ammunition to shoot him with.”

  “I’m warning you to keep your mouth shut.” The look on Mason’s face matched his temper. “If you so much as breathe one word of that malicious rumor about my son, you’ll be sorry.”

  Rupert laughed. “You’re venting your anger on the wrong person. It’s Collier you need to rake over the coals.”

  Mason lunged to his feet, then hissed, “Oh, I intend to. Then he’ll be slapping a slander suit on you. And you just wait till he’s a judge.”

  Rupert’s grin held, but his voice turned savage. “If I have anything to do with it, Collier won’t sit on that bench. Now get the hell out of my face.”

  “If it’s a fight you’re itching for, then you’ll get it.” Mason’s eyes didn’t flinch. “And make no mistake, it’s a fight you won’t win.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Jackson peered at the doctor in stunned amazement. “I—” He stopped cold, unable to form a coherent sentence.

  Dr. Ted Ames chuckled. “Sometime medical miracles come about. Not often, mind you, but they do happen. I’d say yours is a combination of factors. One is the result of your therapy. You’ve been so disciplined and regimented in that area. Another is the type of spinal cord injury you sustained.”

  “Still, I never thought—” Again Jackson broke off, too shell-shocked to go on.

  “Remember, I told you from the beginning SCI’s are divided into two types of injuries—complete and incomplete. I had diagnosed yours as incomplete. However, since you’ve never had any function from the waist down, I’d about decided I was wrong. Now, however, this latest blessing proves I was right.”

  The doctor paused with a grin. “Just consider yourself one fortunate bastard, my friend.”

  Jackson was still having difficulty speaking after receiving the second biggest jolt of his life, right after waking up and finding out he was paralyzed and would never walk again.

  “You mean I can make love to a woman?” Jackson gave his old friend and neurosurgeon another disbelieving stare.

  “Yes, Jackson, you can have intercourse—at least physically. Making love’s a mental effort, too. But then, I don’t guess I have to tell you that.”

  “Yes, you do. It’s been so long since I’ve had any feeling in that part of my body that just about all of life’s pleasures have disappeared.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way, you know,” Ted said in a firm but unaccusing tone.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Jackson lashed back.

  The doctor sighed. “We’ve had this conversation numerous times since the accident. I guess one more time won’t matter, not that it will do any good. But you don’t have to sit in your room all day simply because you’re in a wheelchair.”

  “I don’t need another lecture,” Jackson muttered churlishly.

  Ted grinned. “In light of your great news, I agree. You just need to savor the moment.”

  Silence filled the room while Jackson groped to come to terms with the astounding medical facts he’d just learned. He’d suspected that a change had taken place in his body, especially after he’d felt a strange sensation following Haley’s touch. Still, he’d believed it had been his imagination and tried to talk himself out of going to the doctor. Finally, though, he’d given in, both fear and hope driving him.

  “Is there someone special who will benefit?”

  Jackson felt his face turn red. “Not really.”

  “There will be.”

  Jackson gave him an intense look and asked the question that had been burning a trail through his brain, although he hadn’t had enough courage to ask it before now. “What…about my legs? Is there a chance I’ll regain use of them?”

  Ted sighed again. “At this point, I don’t know. Yesterday, before you came to see me, I would have said no, without any qualms.” He paused. “But today, after examining you, I have to acknowledge that someday it may happen.”

  “Only not now.”

  Ted patted Jackson’s shoulder, then walked to his desk and perched on it, folding his arms across his chest. “They’re making new strides everyday in SCI, so you mustn’t give up. Hope is the key word here.”

  “It’s hard to hang on to that kind of hope, Ted, when you’re trapped.”

  “I won’t argue with that, nor will I pretend to know what you’re going through, what you’ve been through, because I don’t.”

  “No one does, unless they’ve been there.”

  Ted smiled sympathetically. “But things aren’t nearly as bleak as they were, so rejoice in your good news. Call your woman friend and ask her to dinner.”

  “That sounds well and good,” Jackson mumbled, down-in-the-mouth, feeling the old depression sink its claws into him again. “But no woman in her right mind wants to tie herself to a man who’s married to a stinking wheelchair.”

  “You don’t know that, Jackson. Besides, for now you don’t have to worry about anything permanent. Just savor the moment and see what happens.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I want to see you back in about three months. Until then, enjoy life a little. You deserve it.” Ted paused, his features sobering. “Are you going to share your good news with anyone? Say Collier or Mason?”

  “Not on your life,” Jackson said with vigor. “It’s none of their business whether I can screw or not.”

  Ted laughed, then slapped Jackson on the shoulder. “Too bad you’re not putting that fire that’s still burning in your belly to good use in the courtroom.”

  Jackson glared at him. “That’s not ever going to happen, not as long as I can’t stand.”

  “That’s too bad,” Ted responded in a light tone, opening the door to his office.

  Jackson signaled for Harry. “Thanks, Ted. I’ll be in touch.”

  Since that conversation had taken place earlier that morning, Jackson had spent the chilly but sunlit afternoon in his room, trying to decide if he should shock the devil out of Haley and call her.

  He wanted to. God, did he ever. Her vibrant smile, wild red hair and sassy mouth were just the medicine he needed, though he was reluctant to admit that even to himself. And with the feeling returning to that part of his anatomy, he was no longer a total loss as a man. Still, neither Haley nor any other woman would want a lasting relationship with him. So why bother? His heart would just get brutalized once again.

  Fear.

  Fear of more rejection kept him from reaching for the phone and calling her. Damn! Deciding he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts for another second, Jackson rolled to the elevator and pushed the button. He hadn’t seen his dad today. If he was home, he’d shock him with his unexpected presence, something he ought to do more often.

  He knew both his dad and his brother grieved for him and his condition every day. Yet he didn’t want t
heir pity, couldn’t stand it. What he wanted was his life back as he’d once known it. Cursing silently, he maneuvered his wheelchair down the hall.

  Jackson heard Mason’s voice long before he realized the study door was open. His dad was on the phone and apparently not happy. In fact, he was livid.

  “That’s exactly what he told me, Kyle,” he said, his voice shaking with fury. “It wouldn’t do for me to get my hands on him about now.”

  Jackson reached the threshold at the same time that Mason saw him. His father’s eyes widened in surprise, then he said, “Look, I have to go now. I’ll call you back.”

  Once the receiver was in place, Mason took several deep breaths as though trying to regain control. “This is a surprise,” he said.

  “What’s going on, Dad?” Jackson demanded, rolling deeper in the room. “If you don’t calm down, you’re going to have a heart attack.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Does something have to be wrong for me to come downstairs?”

  “Yes,” Mason said bluntly.

  Jackson felt the blood drain from his face. That was a low blow, but he deserved it. “What was that conversation all about? I haven’t seen you this upset since—” He broke off, unwilling to mention the accident.

  He figured Mason picked up on that and chose to let it go, as well. Besides, he had something else eating at him.

  “It’s your brother,” Mason said in a weary but harsh tone.

  “What about him?”

  Mason hesitated, then looked away. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Just what I said.”

  “Hogwash!”

  Mason seemed to go limp, his shoulders drooping. For the first time, he reminded Jackson of a tired old man. Fear dried out his mouth. He had to swallow several times so he could speak. “Dad, talk to me, dammit!”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Mason replied, his Adam’s apple working overtime.

  “Collier’s not hurt, is he?”

  “No.”

  “Did he get passed over for the bench?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then whatever’s happened or whatever he’s done can’t be that big a deal.”

  Mason laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, yes, it is.”

  “Will you stop crawfishing and spit it out before you choke on it?”

  “It concerns you, Jackson.”

  “So?” he responded with forced casualness. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

  “All right, you asked for it.”

  “So shoot.”

  He listened as Mason recounted his entire conversation with Rupert. By the time he finished, Jackson’s fingers were trying their best to make dents in the hard plastic arms of his chair.

  For the longest time, silence dominated the room.

  Mason was the first to break it. “Do you think it’s true? Do you really think he’s screwing Rogers’ sister? God…” His voice seemed to fade into nothingness.

  Jackson was fighting his own demons, wondering if his brother had completely lost his mind, if what Holt had said was true. And in Jackson’s eyes, that was a big if. On the other hand, how could he fabricate such a wild tale and think he could get away with it?

  “Something’s rotten,” Jackson said at last. “You can bet on that. And it may be Rupert, so before we jump Collier, let’s just ask him.”

  “What’s with you?” Mason demanded. “How come you’re taking this so calmly? I thought you’d be ready to fillet him like a fish.”

  “Why are you so quick to believe Rupert? You know what a piece of shit he is. Why not give Collier the benefit of the doubt?”

  “Because something’s going on with him.” Mason balled both fists. “It’s like he’s in another world. No, it’s like his head’s up his ass,” he added fiercely.

  “Hey, don’t get yourself riled up again. If it is true, then we’ll deal with it.”

  “It’ll ruin him,” Mason said in a dull, resigned tone. “It’ll coldcock his chances for the bench for sure. Kyle thinks so, too. He’s about to have a shit fit.”

  “Where’s Collier now?”

  “In court, I imagine.”

  Jackson’s lips thinned. “I’ll call and leave word for him to stop by here on his way home. We’ll ask him about it then.”

  Mason’s eyes were bleak. “This can’t be happening. It just can’t.”

  “Give it a rest, Dad,” Jackson urged gently. “The appointment’s not worth having a coronary over.”

  “It is to me.”

  Watching his father in total despair over having his hopes and dreams hang in the balance yet again brought on a new onslaught of guilt. If only he hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If only that kid hadn’t been on the road high…

  Shutting those destructive thoughts down abruptly, Jackson rolled toward the bar in the study. “Sit down while I make you a drink. You need it.” He paused. “We both do.”

  When she said hello, his knees went weak. Good thing he was sitting down. “It’s me.”

  “Hi,” she said in her lilting, husky voice, which produced an instant erection.

  Collier hadn’t planned on calling her. Instead he’d had every intention of showing up at her place on his way home from work. But when he’d gotten the message from his brother, he’d changed his plans. Talking to her on the phone would have to suffice for now, but it was nowhere near as satisfactory. He ached to hold her.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “I was just studying.”

  He picked up on the slight husky catch in her voice, and it made him grow harder.

  “In what?” he rasped.

  “My robe.”

  “Naked underneath?”

  “Yes.”

  This time his breath caught. “I wish I was there.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  He groaned. “Obligations.”

  “I see.”

  “It’s not what you think,” he assured her tightly, then, lowering his voice, he added, “I haven’t touched another woman since I met you.”

  “Oh, Collier,” she whispered. “I miss you.”

  “God, I miss you, too.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  He gripped the receiver, envisioning her perched on her tattered sofa with her dainty feet curled under her buttocks, toying with her bottom lip, her robe gaping just enough to expose a full, jutting breast.

  Groaning silently, he tried to ease his burgeoning erection by shifting positions. When would this insanity end? Just hearing her voice made him hard, something that had never happened to him before. But then, Brittany had redefined the word erotic.

  “Collier?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Look, if I can get loose, I’ll see you later.”

  “Tonight?”

  “God, yes.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  A short time later Collier bounded up the steps of his childhood home, wondering for the first time what Jackson wanted. Rarely did his brother call him, so it must be important. Suddenly he felt uneasy. Was it possible he had found out about Brittany? No. Kyle wouldn’t have betrayed his confidence. More than likely it had something to do with the appointment.

  But since it was Jackson, that didn’t ring true. Oh well, Collier told himself, shrugging off his forebodings. He would soon find out.

  “Hey, it’s me,” he called out, after letting himself in. Apparently Maxine had retired to her quarters for the evening.

  “Dad’s in the study,” Jackson said, appearing seemingly out of the blue.

  Collier frowned. “Is something up, bro?”

  “We’ll see,” Jackson muttered, rolling toward the study.

  Collier had no recourse but to follow him. Mason was standing by the gas fireplace, his features grim. Jackson positioned himself alongside their dad. Both men faced Collier, who suddenly felt
as if he were standing in front of a firing squad.

  “Sit down, Collier,” Mason demanded.

  “No offer of a drink first?” Collier countered lightly, trying to diffuse the tension.

  Mason ignored him, then asked bitterly, “Is it true? Are you sleeping with the enemy?”

  Twenty-Nine

  Collier felt all the color drain from his face and fought for a decent breath. How had they found out? He still didn’t think Kyle had betrayed him, though he knew his dad could be persuasive when he wanted to be. After all, it hadn’t been long since he’d been one of the best criminal lawyers in the state.

  “Well…?”

  Mason’s tone and eyes remained hostile, as if he were staring down his bitterest enemy. Collier’s chest tightened as he switched his focus to his brother, whose posture didn’t seem quite so hostile. But it wasn’t welcoming, either. Far from it.

  He hadn’t wanted it to come to this. He’d wanted to tell his family. Suddenly he panicked. Tell them what? That he was pussy-poisoned? That he was involved with a woman he couldn’t leave alone, no matter the price? Hell no, he couldn’t say that. Mason and Jackson simply wouldn’t understand. He didn’t understand himself, so how could he expect anyone else to?

  “We’ve got all evening, if that’s what it takes,” Jackson said in his lawyerlike tone, something Collier hadn’t heard in a long time.

  “Who told you about her?”

  “Hellfire, boy,” Mason lashed out. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  “Is it true?” Mason almost shouted the question.

  “Yes, it is.”

  For several heartbeats no one said another word. Only the grandfather clock in the corner of the room bonged into the slippery silence.

  “How could you?” Mason choked out.

  Suddenly concerned, Collier stepped toward the old man. “Dad, why don’t you sit down?”

  “Stay the hell away from me.”

  Collier pulled up short, feeling about as helpless as he’d ever felt in his life. His world was spinning out of control again, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Striving to regroup, he inhaled deeply, swinging his gaze once again to his brother, whose eyes were filled with confusion.

 

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