Busted (Barnes Brothers #3)

by Shiloh Walker

  “People are going to be mean to him in life,” Trey said, frustrated. “Sebastian and Zach can’t always rush to his side to be there when somebody gives him grief.”

  “And I’m not going to,” Sebastian said, shrugging. “But right now, he’s . . . fuck. He’s not even six years old. He’s in kindergarten, probably nervous about school. It’s gotta be hard on him, man. He—” Sebastian stopped, clamping his mouth shut and looking away.

  “If it’s about Aliesha, don’t think I’m not aware,” Trey said tiredly, shaking his head. “The first day of school, he took off out of the classroom because so many kids had their moms there.”

  “And that’s why I wanted to come,” Sebastian said softly. “He’s going to have some bumps and bruises already. I had the time. I don’t get to see him much anyway. What does it hurt? And if it helps him to feel better about himself? That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Okay.” He blew out a breath and tipped his head back. “I guess I see what you mean there.”

  “Excellent.” Sebastian gave him a wide smile. “Because I’d like to drop him off at his school on Monday.”

  Trey’s answer was cut short by his phone ringing. Immediately, his heart did a hard and heavy slam inside of him, because that slow, lazy jazz tune was one he’d programmed for Ressa.

  “What the—”

  He didn’t even realize he’d half lunged across the kitchen until that moment, nor did he care.

  All that mattered was that she’d called.

  “Hello?”

  There was a faint, hesitant pause.

  “Trey. It’s . . . ah . . . Hi. It’s Ressa.”

  “Hi.” Breathe. You have to breathe. That in mind, he drew in a deep careful breath, then blew it out, slow and easy. Didn’t do a damn thing to calm the sudden ragged rhythm of his heart, though.

  “Are you . . . look, I feel like a heel doing this, but I need a favor. It’s huge and I’m sorry, especially after . . .”

  Now his heart twisted—no, he thought maybe it shriveled. “What do you need, Ressa?”

  “I have to go see my cousin,” she said, her voice now subdued. “I . . . she called last week and asked my aunt and me to come out. It was . . . well, I talked to her a few hours before I talked to you. There’s something going on and we have to go see her. We had arrangements but they fell apart and now . . . look, I can’t take Neeci out there. It messes her up too bad.”

  “Bring her over.” He was proud to hear that he managed to keep his voice level. Completely straight. Nor did he lapse into a fit of begging. “Clay would love to see her.”

  Then, before she could say anything else, he disconnected.

  Carefully, he put the phone down and before his brothers could say anything, he walked out.

  He had probably twenty minutes—maybe a few less, because Ressa wasn’t much on taking her time behind the wheel.

  He would need every last one of those minutes to try to make it look like he wasn’t totally falling apart inside.

  * * *

  Baffled, Sebastian stared at the rigid line of Trey’s back as he disappeared down the hall.

  “What the fuck was that?” he demanded. Then he jerked back as Travis rapped his head. “Hey!”

  “Watch your mouth,” Travis advised. “Clay is going to be up at any minute.”

  “Fu . . . yeah. Okay.” Rubbing his skull, he glared at Travis through slitted eyes. “What’s up? And don’t tell me nothing. You two have been pissed at each other all week. He’s been dragging like something tore up all his books and now . . . Son of a bitch.”

  This time he moved back in case Travis tried to smack him, but Travis just scowled at him. Hands on his hips, Sebastian studied Travis—the one who used to be the funnier twin. The lighthearted one.

  “It’s a woman, isn’t it?”

  Travis’s only response was a sigh. He stared down into his coffee, brooding.

  “Aaaaannnndddd there are problems.” Sebastian dropped into a stool across from Travis and braced his elbows on the counter. “Who is she?”

  “You should ask Trey all this,” Travis pointed out. Then he slanted a hard look at him. “Except . . . don’t. They aren’t in a good place right now so leave him alone.”

  “Well, maybe he needs to talk about it.”

  Travis rolled his eyes. “And you’ve been the hey, let’s talk guy since . . . when?”

  “He’s my brother, too,” Sebastian said quietly, rising from the stool and moving away. “Yeah, maybe I’m not as close to him as you are. But he’s still my brother. I still love him.”

  “Damn it, Seb!”

  But Sebastian just shook his head. Seemed like not a damn thing he did lately went right. He’d just go back to his room. Crash there—

  “Uncle Sebastian! Hi! Wanna eat some donuts?”

  Looking up, he saw the cute, sleepy eyes staring down at him from the second floor landing. He managed to smile. Well, okay. Yeah, maybe he didn’t piss off everybody.

  * * *

  Her hands were shaking.

  This is ridiculous.

  She was half-afraid to even walk up to that door and she kept replaying that conversation over and over in her head. How Trey’s voice had gone from warm . . . almost . . . she didn’t know how to describe the low, almost intimate sound of his voice, but she knew how to describe the shift it had taken after she’d started babbling.

  I’m not ready to talk relationships, honey, but hey, I need a favor . . .

  He’d gone cool on her. Oh, he was polite.

  And it had ripped the heart out of her, because she knew what that cool tone hid.

  She’d hurt him.

  As she opened the door, she looked at her aunt. “I’ve got . . . I’ve got a few minutes, don’t I?”

  “A few.” A faint smile curved her aunt’s lips. “As much as I want to get out of this car, I’m not going to. Not right now. Ressa . . . listen to your heart, okay? Not your fear and not your common sense.”

  She nodded and closed her hand around Neeci’s. “Let’s get you inside. Bet you’re ready to see Clay.”

  They started to walk, but Neeci was dragging her feet. “But . . . but I think Granny should come. She’ll wanna meet—” The girl’s eyes went wide and she snapped her mouth shut.

  “Meet who?” Ressa asked, frowning.

  The door opened and Clayton came tumbling out—he was walking backward and he had both hands wrapped around the much larger hand of somebody else—a somebody else who wasn’t Trey. Or his twin.

  “Come on. I want you to meet my best friend.”

  “Okay, okay . . .” The man’s voice was smooth, easy, and he laughed as Clayton dragged him along. He wasn’t exactly fighting.

  “Come on!” Clayton said again.

  Guess he wasn’t moving fast enough for the boy, Ressa mused.

  “Is that who you wanted Granny to meet?” she asked, looking down at her cousin.

  But Neeci had gone still, almost frozen.

  “Clayton, did you finish your . . . ? Ressa.”

  She looked past Clayton and his hostage to see Trey standing in the door. Swallowing, she opened her mouth and a dozen things leaped into her mind. I’m sorry. I take it back. Can we have a do-over?

  But all she said was, “Morning, Trey. Thanks for . . . helping out.” It was lame and stupid and everything she didn’t need to say.

  “No problem.” He just nodded shortly at her and then shifted his attention to Neeci, a warm easy smile on his face. “Hey, sweetie. You had breakfast yet?”

  Neeci just stood there. Still frozen.

  “Baby, what is wrong with you?”

  “Neeci! Say hi to my Uncle Sebastian!”

  Ohhhhh . . .

  Shifting her attention to the man with a hat pulled down low over his face, she studied him—or what she could see. Wow.

  He smiled at her. “Hello.” That voice—it was rich, sinful, like liquid chocolate and rich wine, an audible stroke over bare skin. An
d something told her the user knew very well the power behind that voice.

  That hat, too, tugged down as low as it was, didn’t do a damn thing to hide the sheer male beauty of his face.

  “I’ll be damned,” she murmured. “Sebastian Barnes.”

  “He’s my uncle!” Clayton said, grinning with delight and obvious pride.

  Amused affection flooding her heart, she looked at Clayton. “So I’ve heard.” Then, because she had to say it, she said, “I miss seeing you, Clay.”

  The smile faded a little, but only for a minute, because he beamed at her. “Then you should stay and play with us. We’re swimming. All day. Except Uncle Travis. He says he’s still sick.”

  “I’d love to, baby, but I’ve got something I have to take care of.” Because she couldn’t stand the way his smile faded again, she bent down and murmured to Neeci, “You should say hi.”

  Neeci gave her a wide-eyed stare.

  Then she looked at the man who’d moved a few feet closer.

  “But . . . but . . .”

  “Hi there.”

  Sebastian crouched a short distance away, studying Neeci with solemn eyes. “I’m trying to decide if I should be jealous.”

  Neeci blinked at him.

  Sebastian heaved out a heavy, forlorn sigh and he looked for all the world like somebody had stolen the stars from his sky. Then he slid Neeci a sad look. “Clay’s been my best buddy since he was born, but now he tells me he’s got a new best friend.”

  Neeci licked her lips. “He . . . you . . . I . . .”

  “Stop it, Uncle Sebastian,” Clayton said, shoving at his uncle as he wedged his smaller body between them all. With a very serious expression, he said, “I’ve got grown-up best friends and you’re one of them, but I need a kid best friend and that’s Neeci.”

  “Well.” Sebastian frowned and then nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” Then he held out his hand.

  Ressa found herself charmed by him, the way he waited until Neeci slid her hand nervously into his, and apparently she wasn’t the only one, because a slow, shy smile bloomed across her cousin’s face in the next moment. “You’re in movies.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “Yeah, well, I can’t write books like Clayton’s dad. Seemed to make sense.”

  Since Neeci was relaxing, Ressa straightened. Her heart lurched up in her throat as she found herself staring straight into Trey’s eyes. He’d moved closer, without her realizing it. So close she could reach out and touched him, if she just took a step or two.

  And she did.

  But not to touch him.

  Heart slamming, she watched him. Watched him watching her, but instead of the heat or the humor or the hunger she was so used to seeing, there was . . . nothing. A curious blankness like he was trying to hide everything he felt.

  “Can we talk sometime? Sometime soon?” she blurted out. Her voice hitched. She couldn’t do this anymore. Her aunt was right. If they could make it work, then damn it, she wanted it to work. “I . . . I messed up. I just . . .”

  Her words trailed off as she felt a number of gazes swing her way.

  And then, Trey’s hand closed around hers and she was being pulled away from the front yard. “I have to leave,” she said, resenting the fact that she did have to go. “My cousin—”

  “I get that. Two minutes,” Trey said, letting go of her wrist as soon as they rounded the corner of his house, mostly hidden from the front, thanks to the landscaping.

  The scent of honeysuckle mixed with roses flooded her head as she sucked in a breath.

  Two minutes.

  She met his eyes. “I miss you,” she said and the words came out easier than she would have thought possible. “And I can’t do this. I messed up. Please . . . can we talk?”

  His lashes swept down and for a moment that stretched into eternity, she felt her world crash to a halt. “Trey, please . . .” She moved closer, reaching for him, not caring in that moment if she sounded desperate—she was.

  He caught her wrist.

  She sucked in a breath.

  Was it too—

  And then she couldn’t breathe.

  His mouth took hers in a kiss that all but stopped her heart. His free hand came up, touched her cheek. It was a gentle touch, so at odds with the way his mouth devoured hers, his tongue pushing inside in a bold, demanding claim.

  Her knees shook. Her heart rolled over. And she was about ready to wrap herself around him and beg the world to go away—for thirty minutes, or even ten—all from that one deep, devastating kiss.

  They barely touched, save for that hot, hungry kiss—his hand on her cheek, the other gripping her wrist.

  A growl sounded in his chest when she caught his tongue and sucked on him and then he tore away. Now, he caught her close, one hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. “I missed you doesn’t cover what I felt,” he whispered against her neck.

  Then he moved away and she swallowed, her blood humming, her heart racing.

  And damn him, his voice was just as cool as could be when he spoke again. “When did you have in mind?”

  “I . . .” She had to clear her throat. She should also change her damn panties, she thought wryly, but that wasn’t an option right now. “I don’t know.”

  She blew out a breath and looked away. “I don’t know where my head will be tonight. I don’t know if I’ll be pissed . . . or what . . . after I talk to Kiara.”

  “Why do you think you’re going to be pissed off?”

  “Because I know my cousin.” She shrugged. “I love her, but manipulation is just what she does.”

  A warm hand touched her cheek and she looked up. “Are you okay?”

  “I can handle it.” She covered his hand with hers. “I’m used to this. Whatever happens, though . . . I need to talk with you. I can’t handle what’s going on with us . . . well, that’s bullshit.”

  A line appeared between his brows and she turned her face into his hand, kissed him. “I can . . . I just don’t want to. Being without you makes me miserable, Trey.”

  Something moved through his eyes, dark, fleeting, gone so fast. Then he cupped her face in both hands and brushed a quick, soft kiss against her lips, both eyes, her brow. “We’ll talk. We have what matters, Ressa . . . everything else is just smoke.”

  Then he moved back. “You need to go.” He took her elbow and escorted her around the house. Both of the kids had cornered Sebastian—and Travis, it appeared—on the porch, jabbering a mile a minute. Neeci had relaxed pretty fast.

  Trey let go but before he moved away, he stroked a hand down her back. “I hope today goes okay.”

  A lump lodged itself in her throat. “Thanks.”

  She lingered only long enough to give Neeci a quick hug and then she left.

  None of this was going to be any easier by taking her time.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “I’m getting out soon.”

  Ressa studied Kiara’s face across the table.

  So far, the visit had gone pretty much the way they normally did.

  Why didn’t you bring Neeci?

  Does she still remember me?

  What have you told her about me?

  Can you bring her next week?

  That had taken up a good thirty minutes.

  Now they were moving on to why Kiara wanted them there.

  Ressa managed, almost, not to react. She glanced over at her aunt and then said, “I know you’re up for parole. How come you’re so certain you’ll get out this time?”

  “I’ve served four years. I was sentenced to seven. I know how this works.” She leaned in, elbows braced on the table. A dark blue cloth wrapped around her braids, holding them back from her face. She’d slimmed down, almost too much, and her slim arms were roped with muscle. “I haven’t caused any trouble and I’ve been taking college courses since I got in. They aren’t going to keep trying to hold me in here—they’re all but looking for reasons to let people out right now.”

  She sh
rugged, flicking her fingers like it was a done deal.

  It might well be. Overcrowded prisons was nothing new. “Okay. Assuming you’re right, what do you plan to do?”

  “I’m taking Neeci back.”

  “No.” Ressa folded her arms over her chest and met her cousin’s dark, flat gaze dead on. “You signed away parental rights almost five years ago. She barely knows you. You can’t provide for her the way I can. You can’t give her a stable life.”

  Ressa didn’t want to think about the shape Kiara had been in by the time everything imploded in her cousin’s life. It hadn’t been pretty. Ressa had been the one to focus, calm down, and get a grip on life, while Kiara lived for the next big deal, the next big score . . . the next big anything.

  It was the next big anything that had landed her here.

  “You already had one chance to prove you could straighten up,” she said softly. “You couldn’t do it. That’s why you’re here now. You can’t take care of her. I can.”

  “I am her mother,” Kiara said, her voice harsh.

  “Only by blood.” Ressa felt her chest constrict. Panic tried to take over. She wasn’t giving Neeci up—it wasn’t just love that drove her now, although that was a huge part of it. She looked at her cousin and saw a pit of chaos. Worse, she saw herself—she saw Neeci growing up the way she had, never having any stability or normalcy or even a parent who just loved.

  How often had Neeci cried herself to sleep just after visiting her mother? Those short visits had done more harm than good and not because of the environment, but because Kiara couldn’t stop playing head games, not even with her child.

  No.

  “I am the one who raised her,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “I am the one who held her through every nightmare, nursed her through every cold. I’m the one who has answered all the hard questions and listened to all the crying. I am her mother in every way that counts, Kiara. You getting out of here doesn’t mean you’re entitled to jerk her around the same way you’ve done with everybody else.”

  “You selfish bitch,” Kiara whispered. For a moment, it almost seemed that tears glittered, but then Kiara blinked and her eyes were just hard and cold once more. “She’s my baby and I have a right to raise her.”