by Roze, Robyn
“He’s a rancher and he has a name.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m not going to rehash last night with you, Dan. You and I worked because it was never a real relationship. You just refuse to face facts.”
“What the hell does that mean? It wasn’t real? You sure as hell could’ve fooled me.”
“Look, Dan, we’re both driven as hell, we always have been. Neither one of us wanted a real relationship. Someone who would make demands on our time, expect us to check in, be present, be thoughtful, remember special occasions—all of that relationship stuff.” He clearly wanted to deny facts, but couldn’t. “You and I have always lived separate lives, and we came together over the years whenever the timing worked out, when we weren’t with other people. Because it was easy, familiar, and no one’s heart was on the line. Until you told me otherwise …” Her tone was apologetic.
After he’d spilled his guts, she’d wondered then, worried, how long he’d felt that way, how long he’d waited to work up the nerve to tell her. Had she missed the cues? Had she been unknowingly stringing him along because she’d been too busy to pay attention? Or had she ignored the signs? So she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to a trusted friend?
“I know all that.” His voice was rough with two decades’ worth of memories. “But things are different; they have been. We both worked day and night for years to build the businesses we each have, and we’re finally on the other side of all that hard work. There’s time for the relationship stuff now. And I wanted to change it, but you wouldn’t even try, not really. But now, you’re suddenly ready for something real, with him? Him? It doesn’t make sense, Kat. Where’d you even meet a guy like him?”
She remained mute, no answer owed.
He pushed off the countertop and straightened. “I know by most people’s standards we had an unconventional arrangement for a long time, but it worked for us. It’s what we both needed then.”
He turned wistful. “And then I made the big mistake of falling in love with you, of wanting something real, all that relationship stuff, with you.” His eyes swept over her, the past reflected in them. “I backed off when you told me to, but I always thought in the end,” he shook his head and shrugged, “it’d be you and me … like it’s always been. I thought you just needed more time to see it the same way I did.”
Tears burned at the back of her eyes. A panorama of images from the past streamed in her memories. Two kids hungry for freedom and fun wherever they could find it, oftentimes in each other’s arms. Two adults determined to break the shackles of the circumstances each had been born into, too focused on careers to make time for anything or anyone else.
“Time won’t solve it, Dan. I’m not what you need, not anymore. I’m not what’s best for you. I can’t be who you want me to be. You don’t see it yet because you won’t let go of our past. But you have to move on … I have. This time I really have.”
His expression turned solemn, thoughtful. He rolled his lips over his teeth and then released them with a pop.
“He really makes you happy?”
“Very.”
A dark cloud of heavy silence hung over them, the tension and history between them palpable.
Then a shit-eating grin reshaped his face as his arms spread wide. “Your loss. You could’ve had all this. I can’t believe you’re passing on it.”
There he was. The Dan Walsh she’d always loved—in her own way.
Kat snorted and laughed out loud. So did Dan. But she saw the hurt shadowed in his eyes. God, she hated being responsible for it.
“Um, yeah, well,” her finger drew a circle around his fit form, “I’ve already had all that.” They laughed some more. “You can sleep on the couch. I’m going to call my farmer, and then I’m going to bed—alone.”
****
Anxiety dug deeper in his belly. “Damn it, Kat, you weren’t supposed to do that! You told her too much. You’ve given them time to plan now, and it puts you in more danger.”
“I’m in danger anyway, Tucker. Parker’s had it in for me from the beginning—literally. His allegiance to our father is the only reason I’m still alive, you know that. Even my father knew that.”
“Yeah, and now that the cat’s outta the bag, and they’ve got an idea of just how much you know, you’re in even more danger. His whole goal now is to shut you up before anything gets out. You have to know that.” Tucker’s trademark calm composure disappeared.
“I do! But it’s done. I’m going to see my attorney tomorrow. I’ll get the ball rolling on this. Dan’s going with me. He can help with all of it. Between the two of them I’ll be fine, and safer.”
Tucker’s jaw ticked at that last comment.
“I’m headin’ back there as soon as possible. I don’t like this at all. And don’t tell me to stay put. Walsh can take care of everything else you need him for, but he’s gonna be done takin’ care of you real soon.” His palm slammed against the steering wheel.
“Tucker—”
“No, Kat! End of discussion. Do you think I give a shit what happens out here if something bad happens to you? We talked about this. You weren’t supposed to show ’em your hand. You were supposed to catch ’em off guard with subpoenas and keep yourself safe.” His hand dragged down his face. “Fuck, I should’ve known better. This is my own damned fault.”
“Hey! This is my life we’re talking about here! These are my decisions!”
“Like hell they are, Kat! When are you gonna stop actin’ like you’re single? Your decisions affect me, us—when are you gonna get that through your head? We talked all of this out before I left, and you know it’s the only damned reason I was willing to leave at all. And then you turn right around and do the opposite? Why?”
He’d tried not yell but had lost the battle. And his temper only served to make Kat angrier. This whole situation had gotten on his last nerve. Her family. His family. Two thousand miles between them. And an old boyfriend playing hero.
It felt like a cave-in.
“You know what, Tucker, I’ve been just a little bit stressed out, okay? I guess that whole thing with my father dying, reading his journal confessions and finding out my real mother was murdered by my psycho brother has made me just, oh, I don’t know, a little crazy! Maybe my judgment is lacking right now, but I think I deserve a fucking pass on this! Forgive me if I’m having difficulty with the whole ‘revenge is best served cold’ bullshit!”
“Kat—”
“No! You know what? I’ve had one long motherfucking day and I’m done with this conversation. I need to try and get at least a couple hours’ sleep, so I can wake up all over again to this unbelievable nightmare. The last thing I need is any more shit from anyone. Goodnight, Tucker.”
He listened to the dead tone for a few seconds and then threw his cell against the passenger floorboard. He ripped his ball cap off and flung it onto the seat beside him, squeezed in futility at the pressure building in his head, and pushed the throbbing mass back against the headrest. He worked to drive away the animosity and resentment and concentrate on getting the hell out of here and back to New York.
His weary eyes studied the lights in the distance dotting the spaces in between the high wrought iron security fence. Then his inspection shifted to the loops and curls of the ornamental “D” centered on the double entry driveway gate in front of him. No point in using the call box. No way in hell that cowardly son of a bitch would open those gates for him.
Tucker reversed gears and swung around so the truck bed faced the gate. Then he secured a towing chain around the center gate posts and attached the J-hook to the trailer hitch. He got back in the driver’s seat and snapped his hat back in place, tugging the blue bill low.
He pressed his boot on the gas and headed for the grassy open pasture on the other side of the gravel road, gunning the engine just as the slack pulled tight and tearing the galvanized custom iron from its frame. The mangled heap of black iron twisted, screeched, and clawed across th
e gravel road to its final resting place in a tangled cloud of dirt and uprooted grass. He retrieved the towing chain and tossed it back in the storage box.
Methods of ending the tiresome old conflict filled Tucker’s head. Some legal, some not … He had proof his waste of a brother was behind the sabotage at the mine and the current IRS investigation. Cameron wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, and he’d been sloppy, which had made it easy for the private investigator that’d been following him. The one Tucker had hired after Cameron threatened Kat.
But there was something else, and Tucker couldn’t have been more surprised. The tide had shifted against Cameron with locals now willing to come forward and speak out against someone with the last name Diamond. For the first time, a battle may not be all uphill.
Cameron had spent years trying to ruin Tucker’s life instead of making his own better. A monumental waste of effort, money, and time—for both of them. Tucker wanted the madness over. But he’d keep his cool tonight; no choice really. Because he wanted to get back to Kat, the sooner the better.
Finally at the end of the winding drive, he slammed his door shut and trudged to the wide columned front entrance with the leaded glass double doors underneath. He refrained from kicking the door down and instead pounded hard, bellowing his adversary’s name. A distorted figure appeared in the leaded design, and then the door swung open.
“Tucker! You trying to wake the dead?”
“What the hell are you doin’ here, Shelley? I can’t believe you’re still with this loser.”
Her sharp manicured finger jutted out, ready to draw a line down his chest and midsection. “You were at the top of my list, but you didn’t seem interested.” She swayed closer, the smack of bubble gum grinding at one side. “Was I wrong?”
He pushed her claws away. “No. It’s the only thing you’ve been right about.” He ignored her and moved past, yelled the name that tasted like swill on his lips. He stormed through and searched the nearby den and living room. “Where is he? Hiding?” He stalked back toward her. “Because I’m not leavin’ here until I see him.”
Her eyes traveled with obvious approval up his body, coming to rest on the dark blue cap squeezed over his blond hair. “You look hotter in a cowboy hat.” She licked her red lips, eyes traced the white embroidered letters on the front. “He’s not here, stud. You’ll have to come back. Or you can wait with me …,” she said, her offer a breathy tease. Then she jolted, straightened in apparent awareness. “Hey! How did you get up here, anyway?”
He bent forward. “You’ll need to get that gate looked at. It’s not workin’ right. Now tell me where he is.”
“He’s not here.”
“Then where’s he at?”
“He’s gone.” She twirled a long strand of blond hair and blew a slow, pink bubble past her pouty lips. She let it linger, then sucked it back into her mouth like the pro everybody in town said she was.
“Gone where? For how long?”
She shrugged, shook her head, and blew another bubble. An even bigger one this time. Tucker popped it with a snap, his impatience growing, along with the apprehension in his stomach.
“Hey! Damn it!” She worked to clean the sticky mess off her face.
He gripped her upper arms and yanked her closer. That got her attention, and a hopeful smile.
“Tell me where he is, Shelley. Now! I’m not playin’ a game with you!”
“He left on business!” She struggled a bit, and he eased his grip on her. “Why the hell do you care?”
Tucker shook his head and snorted. “What the hell kind of business? He doesn’t work.” Unease ratcheted in his gut.
“I don’t know, Tucker!” She broke free and backed away. “I’m not his mother!”
“Well, you’re sure as hell shacked up with him! So tell me where he’s at!”
“New York, okay! You happy now?” Shelley’s face drained of color as the hulking menace towered above her, his body pushing her against the wall.
“Are you sure about that?” He spoke the bitter string of words slowly, his tone low and threatening.
She nodded stiffly and swallowed hard, fear on her face. Then her eyes darted to the letters on his hat. She squeaked out the next words. “He said he had personal business to take care of in New York.”
Tucker’s fists slammed against the wall as the bottom dropped from his world.
****
Parker deliberated at the window in his study, arms locked confidently over his chest, as the clouds scratched across the glinting moon, the shadow play mirrored on the Hudson below, his lips drawn in cold satisfaction.
“You handled it perfectly, Mother.” He glanced back over his shoulder, then took a few steps and perched himself on the desk corner, nearer her.
“I don’t want you to worry about this. I doubt she has anything. She’s guessing, speculating, based on an inadmissible dying declaration.” His face turned smug. “The evidence went missing, as I recall.”
“But what if it didn’t?” Sarah sounded nervous.
“Meaning?”
She eased forward and lowered her voice. “Meaning, what if your father recovered items from the scene.” Her palm pressed to her chest as if to stop the spread of panic. “Or later, by other means.”
A pointed sliver of anxiety stabbed at his certainty, threatened to poke holes in his heretofore unshakable conviction as he ruminated the heart-pounding prospect of her worrisome words. A chess-like game unfolded in his mind, the necessity to play his side of the board and his opponent’s, never more critical. Then, equal measures of hubris and vindictiveness quashed the disconcerting doubts. He smirked and leaned back in casual confidence.
“Father never would’ve taken that risk. Can you imagine the fallout if he had somehow lost control of it and it landed in the wrong hands, even after his death?”
Sarah gasped, mortified.
“No. He destroyed all of it, just as he told us he did, if for no other reason than to protect himself.” Parker’s chest swelled with a surge of confidence. “She’s bluffing. And the news story was simply an attempt to rattle us, nothing more. Even if there is a bit more to it, I can handle it.” His long finger tapped at his temple. “I’m always several moves ahead. I’m not worried.”
He reached out and patted her slumped shoulder as she sat pale and bereft before him. “You shouldn’t be, either. So stop looking so moribund. Sit up straight. Stand tall. And face the world as you always have, Mother, with dignity, strength, and grace.”
He rose to stand behind her, hands reverently at her shoulders. “You’re the only reason this family still has a name worth anything. Your sacrifices are the glue that’s kept this family together ever since Father tried to destroy it all those years ago.” He bent down next to her jeweled ear, an edge of malevolence in his voice. “But we didn’t let him, did we?” Sarah James had regained her self-righteous demeanor and shook her head, lips tight. “And we will not let her do it now.”
His fingertips skimmed across her rigid, cashmere layered shoulders as he slipped around and repositioned himself in front of her. He angled back against the desktop and gripped the edges.
Their eyes locked, reaffirming their heinous pact.
Blue-veined hands, attenuated by time, pressed together as if praying, beseeching. “I never wanted you involved back then, darling. You never should have had to take on such a role—”
His raised hand ended her mea culpa and he shook his head in admonishment. “Someone had to stop the madness. The utter insanity of what he was proposing could not be tolerated.” His eyes lit with satisfaction at the memory of the harsh punishment meted out. “Actions and consequences. Someone had to put Father in his place, make him understand his responsibilities to you, to the family.” The sharp angles of his face softened. “You and grandfather understood. You both stood by me when I needed you most. And for that, I will never abandon you.
“This is no different, Mother. She needs to be put in her p
lace, just like him.” He paused, allowed the weight of his judgment to sink in. “She has done nothing but treat you with disdain and disrespect. Defied you at every opportunity. Embarrassed you from the beginning. Embarrassed you—like him.” He waited, a scowl marring his face. “Even after you took her in at Father’s urging and raised her as your own—in exchange for my freedom, my redemption.” He leaned closer, his voice lowered in deference. “She has no idea the price you’ve paid, nor would she care if she did.”
Then his head cocked as if he’d heard a whisper in the corner, and his eyes shifted to some faraway place. “And Father thought he could renege on his bargain, from the grave.” Parker pulled back with a deep breath and brushed away the nonexistent lint on his wool trousers. “But I simply won’t allow that to happen.”
He straightened and folded his arms with the sanguine air of an unchallenged fleet admiral. “I’ve had years to plan for just such a scenario, in the event it should become necessary, which it clearly has.
“That was my mistake before, you see. I was young and fueled by rage and injustice. I lacked the control to think clearly, plan methodically.” His empty eyes drifted above the silver-haired woman seated before him. “This time it will be three birds … one stone …” His words muttered to the distant shadows, triumph illuminating his features. He no longer seemed mentally present.
“I don’t understand, Parker. What do you mean? Are there others …? Parker, answer me,” she said, her voice shaky, maybe even fearful, on the cusp of a demand.
His eyes skipped back to hers, and she flinched at the icy connection, the total lack of humor, warmth, or compassion. Only barbarity lived in those dark, bottomless eyes.
“Don’t ask questions, Mother. The less you know the better. My job is to handle this, make it go away. All of it. Your job is to support me in that endeavor. Your blind faith is required and expected.”
He bent forward like a doctor delivering a dire prognosis. “No matter the outcome. No matter the price.”
****