Texas Girl Grit

by Shelley Stringer

  “Getting any ideas?” I asked, nudging her.

  “Plenty! I’ve just got to plant a few in Sean’s head,” she said, sighing.

  We finished our gift opening with a couple more presents from my sweet friends, some beautiful pink, blue and yellow newborn outfits for Marley Belle. My mood lifting a bit with their visit, I fixed lunch for the three of us and my bodyguards, then shared some of my baked goods left over from my lonely Christmas bake-fest.

  We said our goodbyes on the front porch a couple of hours later. I hated to see them go, so I decided to call Jen and make plans to go and see her. But as I watched a brooding Scott, I thought it best to get Bud to take me to meet her.

  * * *

  Something wasn’t right. I’d brooded all afternoon, the conversation playing over again and again in my head about Scott and Jen fighting. Tana had said he was mad at Jen when she’d mentioned Tex’s involvement in my blackmail. As far as I knew, Scott worked solely for Liam and his father, and had no attachment to Tex. Just as I decided to call her, my phone rang.

  “Jen? I was about to call you.”

  “Are you okay? Is Scott still there with you?”

  She sounded worried. “Yes. He’s outside. Why?”

  Jen sighed on her end. “I don’t know. Something’s not right. I’ve been wanting to call you. He came over the other night, the night Chelsea had Buck, did you know that?”

  “Yeah, he told me. Umm, did y’all hook up?” I asked teasingly.

  “Well, we started to. He is a sex machine, after all,” she said. “But I needed to talk to him about what I’ve found,” she said hesitantly.

  “Yeah, Tana said something about that. Something about Tex?”

  She blew out a breath, pausing. “Kelly, I think Tex is involved, and Scott knows something about it. I checked his cell phone. He had dozens of calls on there from Tex’s office, from Tex’s cell…all during the time of the shooting and after, when Liam was in the hospital. There were also several calls to the same number, an area code I didn’t recognize. When my contact at UT checked it out, it was from old Mexico.

  “Ummm, I don’t follow,” I whispered, chilled. Somehow, I did follow, and it terrified me.

  “I confronted Scott, and asked him what he thought Tex might know about all of this and the blackmail. He got angry, and asked me how I knew about the blackmail. I calmed him down, and told him you said it was okay if I did some digging around. Then I asked him about all the calls to Tex. Kelly, he became almost violent. He started talking crazy, murmuring about making someone proud, and talking about his father. I know his family is a touchy subject because I’ve tried to talk to him about them before. He always shuts me down, you know? Anyway, I asked him what Tex had to do with his father, and he grabbed his phone away from me and threw it across the room. I…” she trailed off.

  “Did he hurt you?” I asked, alarmed. “Did he put his hands on you?”

  “No,” she whispered. “No, but for the first time, I was afraid of him. I’d never seen such rage. Then he grabbed me, and a calm came over him. He held me close, whispered in my ear I needed to back off, and he was going to take care of you. He said not to worry about Tex, he was checking in with him closely while Liam was in the hospital. He told me he was sorry he overreacted. He has this thing, where he needs for people to believe in him. We made love, then, Kelly, but somehow, it wasn’t the same. Then he left.”

  “Have you talked to him since then?”

  “I’ve tried several times, but he won’t take my calls.”

  “Do you want me to try to talk to him?” I asked, after several moments.

  “No, no I don’t think that would be a good idea. I think…Kelly, I think you should talk to Liam about getting someone else in charge of your security. Something isn’t right with Scott, and it worries me.”

  “He’s been great, Jen. He’s been great with me, and with Masen.”

  “I know, but I’m uneasy. I believe him about the phone calls, but there was something in his eyes, just before he grabbed me. I don’t know, but just trust me, and please talk to Liam about this.”

  “Jen, I can’t talk to Liam. I can’t give him the opportunity. He’ll talk me into coming back home, I know it.”

  “Then let me talk to him. I’ll go see him in the morning,” she said.

  “Jen,” I protested.

  But she’d already hung up.

  “Everything okay?” Scott startled me from the bedroom doorway.

  “Scott! You scared me,” I said, putting the phone down on the bed.

  “Was that Jen?” he lifted his chin, his usual quirk.

  “Um, yeah. She told me you’d had a disagreement of some kind, and you weren’t picking up. She’s worried about you,” I said cautiously.

  He smirked. “Jen’s usually worried about something. It’s her nature. Been busy with all this security crap going in around here, and the boys back and forth to Liam’s. I’ll call her later, smooth things over. Might even go and see her when Bud gets back,” he said with a wink.

  “Good. I don’t want our crap to sabotage a good thing,” I joked uneasily.

  “You need anything?” he asked, nodding over where Masen lay sleeping on his tummy in his pack-n-play.

  “No, just about to turn in.”

  He paused a moment, taking Masen in. Then his eyes came back to me. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, Kel. If he did, he’d be beating the door down and taking you home, no matter what you say. He fucked up with that Estes bitch. I’d never screw you over, not in a million years. Everything’s just come too easy for pretty-boy, always has.”

  I realized I was watching him with my mouth hanging open. I shut it, the pause almost awkward. Scott, sensing the uneasy moment as well, cleared his throat. “Call if you need anything. Me or Bud will be downstairs.”

  I finally took a breath as I heard his boots on the staircase.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  T he quiet of the afternoon was broken only by the soft whimpers and sighs of Masen’s breathing, the rising and falling of his small chest the only motion I could see. I’d placed him on his tummy after he’d finished his lunch, only for him to immediately flip over and fling both arms out. The thought he was going to be a wild sleeper like his mother caused a smile. It was getting easier to remember his mother – my sister – without it taking my breath away. Sighing, I enjoyed a rare moment of peace gazing out through the lace curtains in the living room.

  I hadn’t turned the television on, other than to watch news or weather, since I’d arrived at the farmhouse. I hadn’t picked up a book. And I wasn’t any closer to settling than when I’d left Austin. I was still numb from the hurt and betrayal I’d felt, and I hadn’t decided what I was going to do beyond hiding out in Fredericksburg. But I’d already reached my limit of introspection and self-examination about the rest of my problems. I was through wracking my brain trying to determine who the blackmailer was and how they were connected to Tex, and whether any of the events in my life were related. Nothing mattered anymore. I’d left on my own accord, and whoever he or she was, they’d be appeased. At least now, hopefully, the sex tape would stay under wraps and Liam’s career was safe.

  My tiredly, numb emotional state locked in on Scott--the first target I could find. Sitting on the porch outside the window in one of the two rocking chairs, he’d been there since mid-morning. He’d been brooding since he came back from visiting Jen the day before. I knew when he’d gone, because Aaron and Bud had joked it had been high time Scott made a “booty-call” and got himself in a better mood. Bud, the more reserved of the duo, had then turned red-faced and apologized. It was so cute, I’d had to hide out in my room and laugh. I smiled at the memory, then rose and crossed the room. Checking Masen and tucking a light blanket around him, I turned and stepped out on the porch.

  “Pretty day,” I commented, sinking down in the rocker beside him.

  Scott stiffened, jostled out of his own thoughts by my intrusion
. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands, his hair wild from running his fingers through it agitatedly.

  “You must be going stir crazy, sitting around here all day with nothing to watch but me,” I said, sitting down in the vacant rocker beside him.

  His only answer was a chin lift.

  “Have you talked to Jen in the past couple of days?”

  Scott stared at me a minute, still seeming to be lost in his own head. As if he were just now focusing on me, his eyes seemed to clear and he snapped back to the now.

  “Uh-hum…um, no. I haven’t.” He finally answered, clearing his throat. “But I think you know that.”

  “I figured, since you’re still brooding.”

  “Well, I guess then, the two of you have me all figured out,” he retorted in a growl, surprising me.

  “She wants to get to know you better. It seems talking about family is the next logical step,” I reasoned.

  “Logical? And I’m not ‘logical?’ Fuckin’ women,” he swore, making me tense up. “You’re all alike. You think you can figure me out. Think you can fix all my problems by talking about family!” he shouted. He ran his fingers through his short hair, tugging it hard as though he was punishing himself. “Talking doesn’t fix shit!”

  “I’m sorry, Scott. I thought I could help.”

  He took a deep breath. “Well, you can’t. No woman’s going to pick apart my brain and figure out what makes me tick.”

  He began flexing his hands again, rubbing them against his jeans.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, deciding we needed a subject change. “Where’s Aaron?” I looked around the deserted yard. I remembered I hadn’t seen either him nor Bud all morning.

  He leaned back in his chair, resuming his angry rocking. Hands now gripping the arms of the rocker tightly, he was startled when I covered his right hand with mine.

  “Something’s wrong, you’re different,” I said.

  His eyes lost their focus, and he retreated to wherever he was before I came out on the porch.

  “Wrong…yeah. Something’s wrong with me. Something’s wrong with everybody. The son-of-a-bitch was right. Wrongwithmewrongwithme…” he chanted, abruptly holding his head in his hands, rocking back and forth in the rocker.

  Holy shit.

  Scott appeared totally unhinged, and I’d made a big mistake trying to talk to him. His voice changed, going deeper as if he were in character. “The little shit. The little ‘bastard child’ he called me. Yeah, but I’m going to…going to…going to… make him proud. Make him proud. Yeah. Makehimproudmakehimproud. Proud, proud, proud…” he murmured, digging at his jeans with his fingers.

  My heart was racing, my throat feeling thick. He’d reddened as his tirade progressed, and his eyes appeared blood-shot, becoming wilder by the minute. I had the same chill come over me as I’d felt after the night I’d been assaulted at the spa when I was alone with him in Liam’s hotel room. Needing to feel someone else’s presence, I gently asked again, “Where’s Aaron?”

  “AWAY!” He shot to his feet, towering over me. “I sent them away!” he screamed at me, red faced, spitting with the force of his words. I shrunk back into the chair, desperate to distance myself from him and go back into the house and grab my cell. I needed to call someone.

  “You can take a break, Scott. Please, let me call Liam,” I began.

  He jolted forward, blocking me from the doorway as I moved to get out of the rocker. Grabbing the chair arms with both his hands, he shook the rocker with such force my head rattled.

  “Nooo! Not calling Liam…my job. I will handle this. No more fuck-ups. I’m a fuck-up, he said so. Don’t tell…no, no, no…don’t tell anyone. You’re not MY son,” his voice raced, his thoughts random. Reaching down between the chairs, he grabbed a half-empty bottle of whisky and sucked some of it down. He then slung the bottle out wide, sloshing some of it on me as he continued.

  I flinched, drawing myself up smaller in the rocker.

  I decided I needed to get him talking to me instead of raving. “You’re talking about your father?” I asked. My heart was anything but calm. I was afraid he could see it pounding through my chest.

  “Father…shit. He was no father to me,” he mumbled. His eyes met mine, and the overwhelmingly dark fury in his gaze alarmed me.

  I gasped.

  “He gave me money, paid my mom off. ‘She was a whore, boy…nothing but a whore,’” he said mockingly, his voice now mimicking someone else again. Then he seemed to shrink into himself as he admitted almost sheepishly, “So he made me kill her. I had to kill her. He said he was proud of me. Killherkillherkillher,” he whispered, looking at me almost as if he wanted my approval.

  Oh my God. Oh. My. God.

  He’d killed his own mother at his father’s command.

  His demeanor changed, the fury back as he took his father’s voice again. “That’s all women are good for, son. Breed ‘em and leave ‘em. They’re all whores. That sorority girl, she worked for him. You kill that whore for me, boy. She’s gonna ruin my life. But you fucked it up again. Could have had her in her apartment. Could have had her at the spa, raped her first. Her ass is sweet. But you’re not my son…not mine. Don’t tell, don’t tell…never let them know,” he whined, almost folding into himself as he hugged the whiskey bottle to his chest. Then he puffed out his chest and threw his arms out again, assuming his father’s persona once more. “Can’t even get the job done,” he spat, now getting in my space. “But I’m gonna make him proud. I killed her. Now I’ve got to kill that Sanger bitch!” he roared, as if he were talking to no one. About me.

  “Her ass is sweet. They’re all whores.” The phrases were hauntingly familiar.

  “Who is your father?” I asked, my voice trembling, barely a whisper.

  His blood-shot eyes darted back to me. “He didn’t leave me a dime. He cut the money off after I blew my knee out. Didn’t want anyone to know who I was. He hated me. But I’m gonna make him proud!”

  “Who is he?” I repeated, wanting to engage him again, hoping he’d come back out of the dangerous daze he was in.

  “Reeves!” he screeched out, making me jump. “SENATOR Reeves! Senator Reeveswasmydad…wasmydadwasmydad.” He repeated as he rocked back and forth, clutching the bottle. “Liam killed him, before I could make him proud,” he sobbed, seeming to fall into a drunken mess. “You and Liam killed him. Can’t make him see me now. Gotta make him proud. Kill that bitch before she ruins me. Ruin the Covingtons for me,” he whispered.

  Then he sneered, “You had to be all sweet, making me want you, making me feel sorry for you. Saved you from that wreck. Shoulda let those drug gang bangers finish you after I gave the cartel your location. My father was right, I am a fuck-up,” he whispered, looking back down at the ground.

  I shuddered at his admission he’d tipped the cartel off. He’d more than stalked me. It was almost as if he’d played with me for months, as a cat plays with a mouse before killing it.

  I studied our surroundings. Our farm wasn’t far outside the city limits of Fredericksburg, and only about a half mile off the main road on a rarely traveled farm-to-market road. But there were no other houses out this way. No one to hear me scream. I had to get to my phone somehow. Scott was unhinged, and our situation was rapidly deteriorating. I sensed he was finally through playing with me.

  Scott’s body jerked at the sound of a motor coming up the road. He grabbed my arm, pulling me through the front door and then slamming the wooden door and locking the deadbolt. As he turned back to me, he pulled a gun from his waistband.

  “Grab him and move!” he exclaimed, shoving me toward Masen’s port-a-crib. I’d barely picked up my sleeping baby when Scott wrenched my arm in a death grip, dragging me and Masen with him toward the back of the house. His eyes darted around, obviously looking for a place to hide us when he spied the small door behind the pantry. I’d forgotten about the cellar.

  The door squeaked open and he shoved u
s through, pausing to close it behind him. I stumbled and fell against the old pipe railing along the wall. As I slid down the wall to my butt, I tucked Masen protectively on my shoulder and fought to get my feet planted on the step below me to keep me from tumbling further down. Masen had roused during the struggle, but had thankfully settled back to sleep nestled into my neck.

  Scott leaned over me, his foul, liquor-soaked breath permeating the stale air as he commanded, “Don’t make a sound, bitch…and keep him quiet, or I’ll kill you both.” He trailed the muzzle of the gun down my cheek, then straightened.

  I jumped as he slammed the cellar door. I heard the rusty bolt slide and flip as he locked us in. Tears slid silently down my cheeks as I sat shivering in the dark. I didn’t dare move for fear I’d fall down the stairs, or I’d make noise and Scott would come back and carry out what he’d threatened.

  The truth began to slowly sink in.

  Scott was Reeves’s son.

  Scott was behind all the blackmail threats.

  Scott was all the unanswered questions before I’d married Liam…the attempted rape at the spa, the attack at my apartment. I somehow found comfort in finally knowing who’d stalked me.

  I’d known. I’d tried to talk about my suspicions all those months ago. Liam had dismissed them.

  Liam. The thought of him made my heart ache, but the sound of pounding at the front door brought me out of my thoughts.

  “Scott, open up! I need to talk to you. Kelly! Kelly!”

  The flip of the metal lock sounded, then the screen door squeaked. I didn’t recognize the visitor’s voice.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Scott growled, his voice muffled through the cellar door.

  “Where’s Kelly? Ellen told me she’d left Liam and is here with you.”

  “I have it under control,” Scott growled.

  I struggled to place the voice at the door. Whoever it was knew Scott had plans other than to protect me. Whoever it was had been helping him.