by Cara Carnes
“I reacted too quick for common sense to enter the equation,” Ellie said.
Riley laughed. The sound boomed through the interior of the small eatery. Ellie looked around and noticed the curiosity ramping up to palpable levels. Although Bubba’s was in Resino and the social ostracism of her troubled divorce from Phil was contained mostly to Marville, anxiety still rode her hard when too many people noticed her. She didn’t need to take another spin through the gossip mill.
But the pull of the past she’d shared with the man beside her was far stronger than her fear of what everyone in Bubba’s thought of her. Warmth flooded her insides and washed away the worries. Her mind drifted in the happiness they’d shared back then—back when they’d been kids with no cares in the world.
He’d been her entire world.
“We were inseparable from that point forward,” Jesse whispered.
They’d eaten their lunches together and discovered their mutual love for peanut butter cups. Ellie had discovered that the teachers kept a stash in their lounge. Jesse would be lookout, and she’d sneak in and snatch a handful. Whenever she got caught, she’d lie through her teeth and say she was there to see her mom.
She smiled at the memory.
Jesse chuckled.
Did he remember the crazy things they’d done?
Life had been simpler back then. Ellie’s dad had still been alive. So had Jesse’s. Nothing ever touched them.
No one ever messed with them.
“We should go,” Jesse said, his voice clipped as if he’d soured to the idea of remembering anything to do with her. Tension corded her muscles.
They’d had good times together before he’d gone off to war. She never allowed anger to darken those times. He’d left. She was proud of all he’d done while in the service, and she never, ever blamed him for leaving her. Not once.
Had he blamed her for not going away with him? Her mom had needed her help.
But thinking of what could’ve been hurt. She couldn’t travel that road, not when the man she still loved so much wanted no part of it. “Yeah, let’s go.”
The fifteen-mile drive to Marville was quiet, except for Riley’s random musings every now and then, mostly directed toward her brother. Worry furrowed the woman’s brow on more than one occasion when she glanced back at Ellie, who’d insisted on sitting in the back seat.
Marville was a yawn-sized town, one business-closing from comatose. The recent oil fracking had offered a huge jolt to a lot of people’s bank accounts and overall morale, but the richer had gotten richer and the poor had gotten nothing.
“I need to stop at the Sip and Spin. Dani needs to know I’ll be at The Arsenal for a bit.”
Jesse’s gaze cut to her via the rearview mirror. “Is she your supplier?”
Riley gasped. “Don’t you dare believe the shit the rumor mill says!”
From what Ellie had seen, no one at The Arsenal had discussed the drug rumors much, but Jesse had clearly put two and two together and made fifty.
“Pot for her mom’s pain,” Jesse whispered as he looked at his sister. “I’m not judging. You know I’d do the same for Mom.”
“I would, too.” Riley glanced back. “Is Dani your supplier? I didn’t think she was into that stuff her brother’s crew did.”
“I was an exception.”
Dani’s brother, Dominic Santiago, was the biggest, scariest badass in Marville, bar none. The fact that he’d gone to prison for murder hadn’t changed much—just made his legend even more fierce. He’d ruled the Marville Dogs from prison. His baby sister had always been on the outskirts of the operation their cousin ran for Dom.
Then Javier betrayed Dom and tried to take over the gang. Things had gone south, and Dani—who was Kamren’s best friend—almost died in the attack. The Marville Dogs were no more. The few who’d escaped Dom’s wrath had been carted away on arrest warrants by the Texas Rangers.
Had the gang going down been the catalyst to make Phil nervous?
No. He’d left her alone for weeks after.
She was so focused on figuring out the why to her troubles she hadn’t noticed Jesse had navigated his way to her rental property without needing directions. How? “You know where I live.”
Ellie winced at her accusatory tone. She stared out at the untended lawn she’d meant to get around to last weekend. Overflowing trashcans at the neighbors reminded Ellie she’d forgotten to put hers out this morning. She definitely didn’t want to miss trash day.
She tried picturing the one-bedroom house from Jesse’s perspective. House was a loose term because it was smaller than the living room of the Mason home, but the roof had been redone by Brant’s brothers. He’d also outfitted the bathroom with handrails for her mom.
In truth, Brant had been a godsend in many ways. He never pushed for the rent, even though she rarely had it on time—or at all. She’d definitely seen a different side of him than Kamren. She exited the vehicle and walked up the cracked driveway. Four steps led up to the narrow porch.
She unlocked the door and entered. The smell struck her as it always did. No matter how many ways she tried, there was no way around the scent of…
Death.
The word fractured a piece of Ellie’s soul—a part that still clung to hope. Her mom would push through this like she had the other times.
But they’d had to do surgery a couple months back. Her mom now had a colostomy bag—a fact the proud woman who’d raised her had yet to fully accept. She refused to change it herself—a small act of rebellion Ellie understood because she’d likely do the same.
Except she wouldn’t have children to take care of her when she got ill. She wouldn’t ever have children—another fact she’d accepted when she’d heard about Jesse’s injury. Even if the worst of the rumors were true, she couldn’t imagine ever having anyone’s child but his.
It was one of the many arguments she’d had with Phil. Repeatedly. Even though she’d been very clear that she didn’t want to have children going into their marriage, he’d expected her to change her mind. Provide him an heir.
“Mom?”
Rustling from the small bedroom off to the left of the living room drew Ellie’s attention. Her mom shuffled into the living room with more spunk and speed than she normally had, which meant she was still having a good day so far.
Ellie hated to darken a good day with her mess, but if Jesse thought she’d be safer at The Arsenal, she wouldn’t argue. Phil terrified her.
Her mom froze. Her widened gaze settled on Riley first, then Jesse. “What are you doing bringing them here?”
“We need to go and stay at The Arsenal a few days.”
“No.” Her mom’s lips thinned. “You wanna abandon me and go live out there, just say so, Ellie-belly. Don’t drag me into it. I’m perfectly fine here.”
She should’ve called Brant first. The doctor had a way of getting her mom to cooperate when no one else could because he was kind. Patient.
“Someone shot my tire out. Phil showed up, dragged me out of the truck, and threatened me.” Speak straight and leave nothing out. It was the best way to handle Mom on most days.
Her mom halted her progression toward the recliner across the small room.
“Phil.” She spat his name like a curse. “You never had any sense when it came to men. Worst taste. I thank God everyday your daddy didn’t live long enough to see the mistakes you’ve made.”
Jesse growled. Riley gasped. Ellie squeezed her eyes closed and willed patience. She and her mom had always had a somewhat strained relationship, but the cancer had made it worse the past few years.
Since the marriage. Then the divorce.
“What’s he want with you now?” The woman sat in her recliner. “I’m not hiding out with those damn Masons ’cause you hooked up with that yellow-bellied weasel.”
“You’ll have a place to yourself. None of us will enter or bother you,” Jesse promised.
“You after my girl again?”
“No, ma’am, but she needs to be protected. We can do that easier at our place.”
The quick reply pained Ellie. She glanced away and gave Jesse the lead because dread cemented her tongue and filled her throat. It’d been years since Jesse and her mom fought. He wasn’t a kid or a young man any longer. He was a battle-hardened warrior. She was a cancer-ravaged woman.
Ellie loved them both.
“It’ll be easier on Ellie having you out there. She’ll be on the road less and out of danger,” Riley said. “She really is in danger, Ms. Travers.”
“Why’s he messing with you? What’d you do this time?” Her mom glared.
“I have no idea, but we’ll find out and get it sorted. Then we can come back here. Please, Mom. I don’t want him coming here while I’m gone and messing with you.”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to be closer. Lord knows she spends enough time out there and flitting back and forth,” her mom said. “You’ll keep my girl safe?”
“I will,” Jesse promised.
“I’ve never had much count for you Masons and I’m not gonna turn into one of those Mason-loving locals. But I’ll go.” Concern rushed across her mom’s face as they locked gazes. “Are you okay, Ellie-belly?”
“Yeah, Mom. I’m good.”
“I’ll help you pack,” Riley whispered.
“I shouldn’t leave them alone,” Ellie replied as the woman was already pushing her into the small bedroom.
“We can hear them from here. You have a suitcase?”
Ellie nodded and grabbed it from her closet, along with a duffel. Her mom’s supplies alone would take a lot of room. She ran her hands down her jeans and looked around at the shambled mess of a life—one she’d kept closed off from anyone seeing. Sometimes Brant came into the bedroom to look at Mom, but in typical doctor mode, he never saw anything past his patient.
Or pretended not to.
She couldn’t pack everything up and haul it to The Arsenal compound. Whittling it down was…impossible. Where did she even start? The weariness she battled every day struck hard. Her mind blanked, refusing to process an action plan.
Someone had shot her tire.
Phil threatened her.
“You two should go,” Ellie said. “I’ll get packed. Send someone back for us.”
“We aren’t in any hurry.” Riley touched her arm. “It’s okay, Ellie. Let me help you.”
“There’s too much to pack. I don’t even have enough suitcases. Mom needs her supplies and lots of clothes. Then there’s the other stuff.”
The bedside toilet her mom peed in. The bed, which was more of a cot than a medical bed was against the wall. Boards raised the head of the cot because they couldn’t afford anything expensive but needed something more positionable than a standard bed. Embarrassment crawled through her as she glanced at Riley.
“It’s okay,” the woman said as she studied the bookshelf of supplies. “You have everything so organized.”
“It helps keep Mom…” Ellie halted the excuse. In truth, the carefully placed items were more for her sanity than her mom’s. “It’s the one thing I can control with Mom’s illness.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Riley pulled out her cell and punched a button. “Hey, Logan. It’s Riley. I’m over here at Ellie’s picking up her mom. Could you call Brant and coordinate equipment and supplies with him? I’m thinking we already have most of what we need on hand. I know we have the bed and a few other things.”
The woman listened a minute and smiled, as if the doctor on the other end could see her. “Thanks.”
Ellie blinked. Logan Callister was The Arsenal’s doctor. He was a nice man she’d chatted with a few times, but he tended to keep to himself in the medical ward. “He’s too busy to deal with this.”
“None of us are too busy.” Riley locked gazes with her. “Remember the night of Mom’s first surgery? The day of the accident? Remember when you went into our home and started bossing everyone around? You moved the table out of the dining room and called Burton Construction to alter Mom’s home?”
“I didn’t mean to overstep. I was just helping.”
“Now it’s our turn.” Riley touched Ellie’s shoulder. “You’ve been doing this alone?”
Ellie nodded. “There’s a nurse. Connie. She works a few hours a week.”
“Then you come to work and handle my six brothers, all their team leads, and operatives. The geek squad. The visitors and demanding idiots on the phone. Then you took on teaching DJ and TJ.
“You do all that and then come home to this.” Riley squeezed her shoulder. “You should’ve told us. We could’ve helped.”
“Mom’s private.”
Riley’s lips thinned.
“She’s been hurting a long time. Pain does things to people, makes them meaner than they intend to be.” Ellie slid the defense out from the recesses of her mind where it lived. How many times had she muttered it? Hundreds? Thousands?
“They aren’t going to let her stubbornness put you at risk.”
“It’ll blow over. Phil will move on. He always does.”
“One way or another you need help with her. What if she fell while you were at work? What if she got into her medicines and took too much?” Riley’s gaze softened. “I have a friend whose aunt was really sick. I know it’s hard.”
Ellie nodded. She’d spent many restless nights worrying about her mom. The what-if trail was endless with ten thousand forking paths to even more what-if scenarios. Affordable elder care was impossible to find in Marville. Palliative care? Pft. Impossible times a thousand. Add in her mom’s surly attitude toward everyone in general and it’d been a vicious rollercoaster Ellie couldn’t get off.
“I promise we won’t interfere too much, but you need help. Let us be there for you the way you were for us.”
Ellie couldn’t believe how quickly they’d reacted and offered support. Help.
But Riley and her friends were part of Jesse’s world—one she never should’ve been a part of after he returned home. Even though a part of her was relieved to have the support and help she needed in dealing with Phil and her mom’s illness, Ellie was a realist.
Her being around The Arsenal daily was a problem for Jesse. He avoided her whenever he could and kept conversation to necessary business when their path’s crossed. Things had turned less awkward recently, but Ellie being around full-time with her mother took things to a new level—one that wasn’t fair on Jesse.
“You never should’ve hired me, Riley,” Ellie whispered. “It’s hard on Jesse. I don’t want to make it any harder on him.”
“My brother can take it.” Riley smiled. “Come on. Let’s get those clothes packed.”
Jesse knocked and entered. Lips thinned, eyebrows drawn into a scowl, he looked around the small bedroom. His hands flexed into fists them relaxed as he prowled a few steps closer, then turned back toward the bedroom door.
“Everything okay?” Riley asked.
“Yeah.” The lie hung with the room a second. “I’ve got an errand to run. Gage is outside. He’ll drive y’all back to the compound.”
“Where are you going?” Ellie blurted the question and waited, even though she already knew because good men like Jesse Mason didn’t sit around and wait for a confrontation. They made it happen.
“I’ll see you back at The Arsenal, Ellie.” Jesse glanced at his sister. “Get her whatever she and her mom need.”
Ellie was unsure what to think. In a way she was glad to have someone fighting her battles and taking on Phil. But Phil was a bad, bad man and they had enough troubles without taking on hers.
Jesse climbed into Nolan’s truck and slammed the door. Ellie would be okay. He glanced back at the small house. Though it was in the worst part of Marville, it had undergone significant repair. Only one group would pour that sort of money into a wreck.
“You good?” Nolan asked.
“Burton and his brothers own this rental. They’re the only ones who’d put so much
work into fixing up a place. Brant knew about this shit and didn’t tell us,” Jesse muttered.
“He’s her mom’s doctor,” Nolan said. “Doctor confidentiality is a tricky thing.”
“You’re defending him after how he treated Kamren?”
“I know good men sometimes make bad decisions. Dallas has every right to be pissed. I’m trying to remember all the good Brant’s done,” Nolan said. “You see someone keeping facts from you that aren’t his to share. I see a man having a woman’s back when she’s carrying an impossible load.”
Jesse grunted. Nolan always framed everything with logic and common sense. The Burtons had done a lot for Resino and Marville. None of that explained the emotion churning in him right now when he thought about Brant helping Ellie.
“I should’ve been the one taking care of her,” Jesse commented.
“You are now. Zoey’s coordinating the cottage with Logan and Brant. It’ll have everything her mom needs by the time they get there,” Nolan said as the vehicle pulled out onto the road heading to Nomad.
“Where’s Perskins at?”
“Nomad Country Club,” Nolan said.
Figured. The Perskins were flamboyant with their money. The more influence they gained by controlling others, the better. They collected power by breaking the backs of others.
Nolan parked in a reserved spot just outside the country club’s private restaurant. A few people watched as they made their way in. Tactical pants and T-shirts weren’t exactly the attire of choice for pretentious joints like this, but Jesse didn’t give a damn. Or maybe it was the guns they wore that gave everyone pause.
Jesse went in first and was greeted by a wiry, elderly man who held two menus against his chest like a shield.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m afraid this is a private establishment for members only.” The man’s gaze raked over Jesse, then Nolan. “With a firm dress code.”
Right. Jesse glowered at the man but didn’t offer the fact that the entire Mason clan maintained a membership. Not that Jesse ever used his.