Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2)

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Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) Page 23

by Suzanne Halliday


  Cam shrugged. “Not entirely. Was smart enough to wait until we were on the flight home.”

  “Wait,” Parker interjected. “What? Lacey’s father is in Oregon?”

  Alex turned to him and filled in the blanks. “Cam tracked the bastard. Told her when they went to Vegas for their anniversary.”

  “I’m your fucking lawyer, Cam. Were you planning on telling me this? I mean, shit! Didn’t we just get all your family stuff sorted out? Lacey made it pretty fucking clear that her legal family begins and ends with you and Dylan. Nobody said shit about a living parent.”

  Cam shifted back and forth on his feet and rolled his neck. Tension much?

  “My wife had the right to know first, and I didn’t want to tell her after dinner one night like it was the day’s current event. That conversation needed to happen on neutral ground when our son wasn’t around so she could react without a filter.”

  Although unhappy to realize he was the last to know, Parker did have to admit that Cam had acted with remarkable understanding and compassion. As always, his natural take on family dynamics was extraordinary considering that until recently, he’d never experienced what having parents or an actual functioning family was even like.

  Parker recognized Alex’s protective Big Daddy impulse firing up and wasn’t in the least surprised to hear him ask, “Do you want me to fuck with him? Tori and I can make his life a living hell, you know.”

  Cam grimaced. “Seriously? You really think it wasn’t hard as fuck not to just have the bastard wiped from humanity once I found him?”

  Drae tersely drawled, “Fucker’s not worth it. I vote for emptying his bank accounts and screwing with his digital footprint over a dirt nap.”

  Parker was taking mental notes about dirt naps and digital footprints. These guys were balls out impressive. No wonder Justice was in such high demand.

  It wasn’t at all hard to imagine what these three men had been like serving together in Afghanistan. Although not on the battlefield with them, he’d done his part from inside the government to crush the bad guys and the systems that made their fuckery possible. Parker understood better than most how bloodthirsty and inglorious the fight really was. Their bond wasn’t ambiguous.

  “Actually,” Cam added soberly, “there’s more that I didn’t tell you.”

  “Of course, there is,” Drae spat out.

  In a voice that sounded brittle and harsh, Cam told them the rest. “You pretty much already know that Lacey bolted when she was seventeen to get away from an abusive relative after her old man more or less abandoned her. The father is a dick. The uncle, a criminal. Didn’t take much digging to find out that the gator-baiting uncle died about four months after she left. Drunk driving. Go figure, huh?” he sneered.

  He didn’t say anything for a minute or two after that. Parker was used to these stories. He listened to this shit for a living, so he was already ahead of the curve and jumped in with a legal question.

  “Are you saying he was dead before she turned eighteen?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, jeez,” he muttered. “They were brothers?”

  “Yep.”

  “And Lacey was legally in this man’s custody? Was support being paid?”

  “Yep.” The tone Cam answered in told Parker he knew where this was going.

  “Ho-ly fuck.” In his mind, that pretty much summed it up.

  “Yep.”

  “Next of kin?”

  “Yep.”

  Drae, who liked facts, stopped their odd exchange and asked that Parker clue him and Alex in.

  Making a disgusted face, he told them, “Fucker knew the brother had died before his daughter was of legal age. He would have gotten an official contact and had to make the final arrangements. Probably got any death benefits, too.”

  Alex sounded like he’d just learned the tooth fairy was bullshit. “He didn’t reach out, did he? Didn’t check on his kid.”

  “No, he did not,” Cam answered testily, sounding just as crushed by this sad bit of news as Alex did. “I should kill the motherfucker for that alone.”

  “What do you want me to tell the wife?” Drae asked. “The ladies must sense a disturbance in the force.”

  “It has to come from Lacey. This is her story.”

  “Meghan’s asked a couple of times. So has Angie. I’ve said nothing.”

  Drae tossed his empty beer bottle into the recycle bin and admitted drily, “Victoria is obsessing, and that’s not good.”

  “They’re all pretty tight, huh?” Parker asked.

  “Family,” Alex pronounced.

  “I THINK WE’RE GOOD TO go for Saturday night. What do you think?”

  “Mmmm, can we do that last shimmy shake thing again?” Angie asked. “I think I’m a half-step behind Tori.”

  “Good news,” Meghan blurted out. “We go on last! Boom shakalaka, we got top billing!”

  Lacey looked around at the circle of friends clustered in her living room. It was a beautiful day so the sliders to the brick patio were wide open. This amazing house. These wonderful people. And in the nursery safe in his crib was her beautiful son. This was her life.

  “What should I wear,” Angelina asked. “Karaoke virgin so please be gentle!”

  She liked Alex’s little sister. In a word, the breathtaking beauty was fantabulous, and Meghan had really taken to her. Lacey was glad. She knew a little bit about Irish’s insecurities when it came to the noble and impressive family she was marrying into. She also understood the jitters that came with having sisters when she’d never had them before. Irish needed Angie to be just exactly who she turned out to be . . . a Marquez through and through. Funny, irreverent, loyal, talented, pretty damn good looking . . . just like her brother.

  “Red, you’ve got the boots covered, right?” Angie asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” she snickered. “And wait till you see them! I’m breaking in a new pair. Give that kinky bastard something to think about,” she mumbled in the end.

  “And I’m taking these bad girls out for a spin,” Victoria snickered as she grabbed at her boobs. “It’s hard not to love nursing when this is the result!”

  All Lacey could do was shake her head and smile. The boots and the sass were covered so they all turned expectantly to find out what devious way she’d devised to highlight her ass.

  Her mind went blank. She had an outfit. Was pretty sure, at least, but try as she could, she just had . . . nothing.

  Meghan looked at Victoria, who raised an expressive eyebrow. Then Victoria glanced at Angie who was studying Lacey with an air of concern.

  Um, had she had an out-of-body experience or something? Why were they looking at her like she was a science project? Then she looked down at her hands and realized that for the past twenty minutes or so, she’d been absently tying little knots in a long piece of ribbon that had at one point been holding up her ponytail.

  “You were waiting me out, weren’t you?” she said with a sulky twang. Why had she even tried to keep this from them?

  “Yeah,” Tori said softly. “You’re scaring me, sweetie,” she admitted.

  Meghan walked over, pulled the knotted ribbon from her grasp, and sat down next to her as Angie pressed a glass of ice-cold water into her hands.

  She looked into Irish’s calm, reassuring eyes. Even after her upset earlier with Alex, she was totally focused on Lacey. Seeing Tori’s unusual show of emotion and the way the newest member of their Justice clique was so clearly disturbed, she felt a wave of support engulf her. And just like that she began to cry.

  “Oh!” Meghan cried. “No, no, no honey. No tears. Please! Just tell us what’s wrong. Is the baby okay? Cam? What’s going on with you?”

  Crying wasn’t something that came easily to her. Too many hard years trying to keep it together in difficult circumstances robbed her of the luxury of even having time for emotion as she struggled to survive. Now? Her life was so blessed it wasn’t like she had anything to weep about so she was wo
efully out of practice and realized immediately that she was sinking into one hell of an ugly cry.

  Hiccupping back the tears, she put the glass down and swiped at her nose wailing, “My father. Cam found him!”

  The shocked gasps that met this announcement tore at her composure—what little she had at the moment.

  Tori—the first real girlfriend she ever had—rose and stood in front of Lacey, growing in stature until she seemed ten feet tall and about as terrifying and imposing as any Medusa ready to turn someone to stone.

  “You want me to ask Draegyn to have him suffer? I bet we could make that happen. Right, ladies?” she asked, looking at Meghan and Angie for reassurance.

  God bless the little dynamo that was Victoria St. John. The crazy waif was better than having a pit bull. Without hearing anything else other than that he’d been found, the ladies of Family Justice were ready to kick ass.

  “Tissue,” she choked, sniffling as she tried to control the crying jag. “A box.”

  Angie flew off in search of some while Meghan shifted closer and put an arm around her, rubbing circles on her back.

  “Does your husband know you’re this upset?” she asked her gently.

  Lacey nodded immediately. Cameron was freaking out more than she was about the whole thing. He was just better at hiding it.

  Angie reappeared with some tissues and put them in her lap.

  “Thanks,” she tried to say in a watery voice. “I love you guys.”

  “Victoria?” Meghan barked sharply.

  “Hold on. Almost,” she heard Tori answer. Then, “Okay. Got it!”

  Next thing Lacey knew, their tongue-in-cheek theme song sounded from Tori’s phone as We Are Family filled the air.

  It was just what she needed to bring her back from the edge.

  Blowing her nose with a resounding honk, she went through a handful of tissues, ending with a swipe of her face that she knew damn well was probably blotchy and her nose all red.

  As soon as she sat up straighter and took a couple of sips of water, Tori turned off the song and went back to hovering over her. Waiting. Meghan’s reassuring presence pushed her the last step and taking a deep breath, she told them as much as she knew, ending her sad tale with, “Frank Morrow is a piece of shit.”

  She should have expected the group snicker, but it still took her by surprise.

  “Hehehe. You said a bad word,” Tori wheezed with laughter.

  “Wow,” Meghan eventually bit out in a none-too-nice way. “What a dick. And even after his brother dies and you’re like what? M.I.A.? He does nothing?”

  The fierce explosion of Irish outrage was like a balm for Lacey’s soul.

  “What are you going to do?” Tori wanted to know.

  Something uncomfortable twisted inside her. No child should ever have to be put in this position. She’d never understood how her father could have walked away from her as he did—didn’t matter whether they were close or not. He was her only parent. She was his responsibility. Now that she had Dylan, she had even harsher feelings. Becoming a parent hadn’t mellowed her at all.

  Lacey couldn’t hate him because she knew her mother had loved him and that they’d been a happy family before she died. But he’d changed after that and the man she remembered was nobody she’d choose to know. And certainly no one she wanted anywhere near her family.

  “At first, I was so shocked that there were a few moments when I wondered if . . . well, you know—Dylan changes everything. And then I thought about his other kids and I asked Cam to find out whether or not they or his wife knew about his former life or me. I figured knowing that one thing would tell me a lot.”

  “And?” Tori drawled.

  She half-smiled. “There’s no evidence that his new family knows anything about his life before the time he spent in Alaska. Maybe, if he’d told them about me then I’d feel different. But he hasn’t and so they don’t know they have an older half-sister. Speaks for itself, huh? Thanks Dad, you fucking asshole.”

  She laughed first. Couldn’t help it. Meghan cleared her throat and tried not to join in, but Tori’s bellowed, “Ha!” got Angie giggling and next thing she knew, they were all on the floor laughing.

  Every time she said, “Fucking asshole,” it started all over again.

  At one point, Lacey was pounding on the floor screaming, “Stop! Stop!” since the body-wracking laughter was killing her. “You’re making me pee my pants!” Eventually, they fell into a giggling group hug that took a long time to break apart.

  “Shit,” Meghan sighed after they’d freshened up, visited the bathroom, and grabbed something to drink. “Look at us. I’m behaving like a crazy person morning, noon, and night. Today’s freak-out being only the latest. Angie threw her bad self into the deep end of the pool—on purpose! Lacey has an unwanted family reunion. What the hell is next?”

  “Thank god Tori’s not swinging from the rafters, too. Somebody has to be the safe and sane designated driver.” Lacey chuckled.

  Took her a good minute to realize that Tori hadn’t reacted or said anything.

  Angie teased in her easygoing way, “Silence is never a good thing with her, is it?”

  Lacey heard the telltale rumblings over the baby monitor of the little guys beginning to stir in the nursery. Time to shift into mommy mode.

  “Well, since my tits are killing me,” Tori said as she pressed on her chest, “and I can hear my greedy little St. John sucker gearing up to demand feeding, I’ll give you the four-one-one in the shortened version.”

  “Works for me,” Meghan said.

  “Okay. Here it is,” she snickered sarcastically. “Hold on to your dildos, ladies, because a certain Mr. and Mrs. St John have expressed a desire to visit Arizona and meet their grandson.”

  “Get the fuck out.”

  Tori looked over at Meghan and grimaced.

  “What did Draegyn say?”

  Victoria St. John’s mocking expression said it all. “He’s building a spaceship out in that shop of his so we can leave the planet. Apparently, that’s the only recourse we have should they plan an invasion.”

  A husky cry sounded from the monitor. “I’d know that hungry bear sound anywhere,” Lacey laughed.

  She looked at Meghan and Angie, who were already gathering their stuff to head out. Tori, she knew, would wait to leave until after Daniel nursed.

  “Irish—go easy on the Major. You know he’s a mess on his best day but that man would rip his own heart out before he’d intentionally hurt you. And Angie? To answer your karaoke wardrobe question, I bring the ass so my question to you is . . . whatcha got, sister?”

  Angie laughed and said, “Desert Angel has legs that go on for miles y’all! And I know just what to wear!”

  “Think they’ll be back soon?” a morose and out-of-sorts Alex asked Parker. They were in his study, sprawled out on two enormous leather chairs in front of an ancient fireplace that Alex had wisely converted to a closed gas unit. Far as ambiance went, it was just what they needed.

  So far he’d managed to keep the worried man away from the bar. No way was having a drink going to be helpful in this situation. Best they meet what was coming at them head-on. But wiling away the time as their wait stretched on was fucking nerve wracking.

  Angie hadn’t contacted him again, but he hadn’t expected her to. They were playing a game to see who had control. He wanted to laugh at how absurd it was because she had all the damn control but didn’t know it.

  He glanced at his watch. Let’s see. She’d need at least an hour to get ready if she was going with him to dinner, so yeah, they’d probably be back soon. Plus, he’d heard Carmen earlier coordinating dinner with Ria so he knew Alex and Meghan were set for the evening. Maybe now was a good time to tell Alex that he was taking Angie out.

  “I imagine they’ll be along soon. It’s getting late and Drae and Cam are probably heading home about now. You nervous?”

  Hmmm. I would have thought he’d have a quick answer.r />
  “Not really. More worried than nervous.”

  “’Cause you think she’s mad?”

  This time, Alex answered instantly with a loud snort.

  “No! Because she’s hurt. You know I can’t have that shit.”

  He exhaled heavily, put his head on the back of the chair, and closed his eyes. “It sucks when you hurt somebody you love.”

  Parker heard Alex’s deep answering sigh. “Is that what happened with Angie?”

  He might as well tell him the whole thing. Wasn’t like it was going to be a secret much longer. Once their respective families weighed in, all sorts of hell were going to break loose.

  Sliding forward in the chair, he rested his forearms on his thighs, clasped his hands between his legs, and stared at the fire.

  “Straight up. No bullshit. In no way a revisionist retelling okay?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “No matter what you think, there was nothing going for two years after she came to D.C. I treated her like my own sister. We did everything together, and I did my best to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t get sucked into any university stupidity.”

  “I know. She told me. Constantly. Her letters were like a private investigator’s log. Parker ate a corned beef sandwich. Parker did his laundry. Parker bought tomatoes at the farmer’s market.”

  He chuckled. Angie. She was so young then, and he’d been such a fool.

  “And then, shit got real and well, you know that part.”

  Without warning, Alex reached out and socked him forcefully.

  Startled, Parker grabbed his arm and hissed. “Ow, dude. What the fuck?”

  “You slept with my little sister, you shithead.”

  “Yeah, and I told you—I happen to be in love with her too so cut me some slack, okay?”

  “Continue; although, I reserve the right to punch your fucking lights out with no warning whenever the hell I want. No expiration date, either. You being in love with Angie is all well and good now. But you slept with her then which makes you a giant piece of shit.”

  “Your sister disagrees.”

  “That remains to be seen. Finish your little story before I forget how much I like you and take out my frustrations on your ugly face.”

 

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