He might be an uptight asshole, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let the best woman he’d ever known walk out on him without making the slightest attempt to fight for her or what they shared.
He glanced at Shadow in his stall, the horse staring at him, his large eyes casting a disapproving glare in Jackson’s direction.
“Any suggestions on how to fix this?” The horse bobbed his head and blew a harsh breath through his nostrils. Jackson was convinced the horse probably had a better suggestion than he could come up with. But since the ornery bastard seemed keen on keeping it to himself, Jackson waved a dismissive hand at the animal and made his way out of the stables and to the main house.
He figured he’d know what to say once he reached the back door. But sadly, he still didn’t understand how to fix this, other than to promise her nothing from her past could ever make him lose respect for her.
She was a phenomenal woman who’d suffered through incomprehensible emotional struggles. Instead of losing herself in the vices most people, including himself, fell prey to, she’d invested in others to heal herself. She might not see how beautiful that was, but for damn sure he did. He needed to tell her that, and hopefully that would be enough to convince her they could move forward together.
Losing Aja wasn’t an option. He’d had enough taken from him; he couldn’t let her end up being just another bad memory in his past.
She thought she was selfish, but Jackson was certain he had more hold on that title than she ever could. He’d allowed his pride to keep him closed off from the world, and it was because of Aja that he could experience anything other than suspicion and detachment.
She was special, and it was his privilege to be with her. He would do whatever it took to make this work.
Resolved and determined, he turned the knob and stepped inside. “Aja, baby, I need you to listen—”
“So y’all are at the ‘baby’ stage of things?”
Jackson watched Brooklyn standing at the sink washing out a dish.
“We’re beyond it.”
Brooklyn shut off the water and stared at him, scanning and computing information as she did. “You’re really into the boss, aren’t you?”
“Honestly, yeah. I don’t think I realized how much until a moment ago.”
Brooklyn laughed. “When you fucked up? Of course that would be the time you realized how good you had it. Such a damn man.”
He walked into the kitchen, standing behind the counter and tapping out an impatient rhythm with his fingers. “Brooklyn, no offense, but I’m not discussing this with you. Where’s Aja?”
She watched him through narrowed eyes over her shoulder, grabbing a hand towel to dry her hands, and faced him. “She was headed upstairs, but then I told her Mat called and asked her to meet him at his office. She grabbed her keys and left.”
“Dammit.”
“Give her time,” Brooklyn continued. “Whatever happened, she’s not ready to deal with it. That’s why she headed to Mat’s office. She needed time to process. The boss is smart. Whatever’s going on between you two, she’ll figure it out. And Mat is great at being a sounding board.”
Jackson tilted his head and assessed her for a moment. Brooklyn had a great poker face. He really couldn’t read her. “You’re speaking from experience?”
“Yeah,” she replied, dropping her eyes for just a second before walking over to the fridge. “By the way…” Jackson smiled at her less-than-smooth change of subject. “I just finished having a slice of Aja’s pineapple coconut cake,” Brooklyn said, “Why don’t you sit and have a piece? It will probably improve your mood and give you the chance to calm down before you go rushing off and doing something stupid.”
He lifted his hands. “Again, you speaking from experience?”
She shook her head. “Nope, my problem is the opposite. I’m too methodical. I plan everything, even the trouble I get into.”
They stared at each other, giving her statement time to marinate. He knew from her rap sheet she’d premeditated the murder of her brother-in-law. That was about as intentional as one could get. But that didn’t mean she didn’t know what she was talking about. If he chased after Aja right now, especially if she was with Mat, things would not go well.
“Sure. I’ll take a slice.”
“My name ain’t Aja. Ain’t nobody in here serving you. You want it, it’s in the fridge.”
Her pronouncement made him laugh, even though he didn’t feel much like laughing. “You know, Aja serving me has nothing to do with me being a man and everything to do with the fact she likes taking care of people. It’s embedded in her DNA.”
She laughed. “I know that. But I don’t suffer from that particular ailment. Get it yourself.”
He walked off to the mudroom, washing his face and hands before he reached inside the fridge. When he came back, he noticed the tattoo on Brooklyn’s upper right shoulder. He’d never seen it before. Probably because she usually had on a button-down shirt over her racer-back tank. But tonight that shirt was tied around her waist, likely to keep the sleeves out of the way as she washed dishes.
“That’s a cool tattoo. What does it say?”
“‘Tomorrow isn’t written.’”
He pulled out a dessert plate from the overhead cabinet, then opened the fridge, looking for the cake. He put both on the counter as she placed a cake knife and a fork beside the cake container.
“Is there any significance to that? It sounds like there’s a story there.” He went about slicing off his cake and putting the rest back in the fridge.
“Yeah, it was something I got from Mat. When I first got out of the pen, I didn’t really see things working out so well for me, and I was having a pretty bad time adjusting to being on the outside. Yeah, I’m an architect, but after eight years in prison for murder, my degrees don’t mean shit. I had little hope I’d be able to rebuild my life to what it was before things took a very dark turn. So even though I’d accepted my placement in the Pathways program, I had no illusions it would work for me.
“Mat had this saying on a poster in his office. Every time I went to his office, he’d point to it and explain that tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that, was a chance for me to make things better. The only person who could stop me from having a better life was me. I liked his explanation of things, so I had it tattooed on my shoulder.”
Jackson was impressed with Brooklyn’s depiction of Mat as a mentor. The two men might never be friends, but it was obvious he’d been a great support to Brooklyn. I guess he really isn’t all that bad.
“Mat keeps inspirational quotes on the walls of his office?” he asked. “I guess I could see that about him.”
“Yeah, that particular one is in Spanish, though. It says, ‘Mañana no está escrito.’”
Jackson was about to shovel the first piece of fluffy cake into his mouth when the memory of the broken bracelet in evidence flashed across his mind. The fork in his hand clattered to the plate in front of him, pulling Brooklyn’s attention to him. “What did you say?”
She nailed him with a hard glare. “I said the quote is in Spanish. ‘Mañana no está escrito.’”
Jackson jumped up. “Come on. I’m taking you back to your cabin. You will stay there, and call Aunt Jo and tell her to stay in her cabin too.”
“What’s going on, Jackson?”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Aja’s number. When it went to voicemail, he let out a loud growl before yelling, “Do it, Brooklyn.” She must’ve seen the worry in his eyes, because she didn’t question him. Instead, they hurried to his truck in the front driveway as he prayed he wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter 41
Aja sat in front of Mat’s office, trying to get herself together. She’d expected they would have to meet after Seneca was drugged. But after unloading all her emotional baggage on Jackson, she wasn’t in th
e best mindset to be the helpful, cooperative partner she needed to display whenever she dealt with Mat on Brooklyn and Seneca’s behalf.
She rummaged through the arm console in her vehicle for her travel toiletry kit. She pulled the fingernail file out and rested it atop her left thigh to keep it out of her way as she continued digging for the eye drops, facial tissues, and lip gloss she always kept there.
She applied the drops and used a facial tissue to clean herself up, added a little gloss to her lips, and ran her hands through her braids. A quick look in the mirror, and she was satisfied she could fool Mat into believing she was the levelheaded, even-keeled owner of Restoration Ranch he’d come to know and depend on. If he doubted her ability to keep parolees safe, he could prevent her from taking part in Pathways. Where would Seneca and Brooklyn be then?
She stepped out of the car and heard the sound of metal clinking against the tarred parking lot. She bent down to retrieve her forgotten fingernail file and slipped it into her front pocket before taking the few steps to the strip-mall building and opening the door. It was after five; she was certain the friendly receptionist who usually greeted her when she was here during regular business hours had packed up for the day and headed home.
She walked beyond reception down the narrow hallway until she was standing in front of Mat’s door. She tapped it lightly, and the door cracked open.
“Mat? You here?” When she received no response, she looked at her watch to see if she’d somehow mixed up the time. Her watch confirmed she was on time. At least this mix-up wasn’t her fault. The mess back at the ranch with Jackson was another matter altogether.
She shook herself, too afraid thoughts of her earlier encounter with him would bring her back to tears. Aja walked into the office. She stopped at the desk, looking for something to write a note on, when skin-prickling cold gave way to a deep shudder.
Looking around to see what had her hackles up, she found Mat standing behind the door, leaning on the wall. “You scared me. What are you doing hiding behind the door?”
He remained behind the door, stretching his arm out until it reached the knob while the other hand remained in his pocket. He slowly walked until the door was closed and his back was resting against it.
Something about this picture made her uncomfortable. Not that she’d never been in a room with a closed door with Mat before, but the way the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, she knew something was wrong.
“Mat? Maybe we should reschedule.”
“I’d love to, but there’s no time.” He swallowed deeply, the muscles in his throat tugging his Adam’s apple up and down as his mouth thinned into a straight line.
“What’s going on, Mat? If this isn’t about Pathways business, I think it’s time I left.” She stepped around the back of his desk, trying to make an end run for the door. But then he lifted the hand he’d kept in his pocket and pointed a handgun directly at her.
“Aja, I have tried to protect you, but you make it so hard. You have to listen to me. If I don’t get you out of here now, they’ll kill you.”
* * *
“If you kill us trying to get there, who will save Aja?”
Jackson couldn’t take his eyes off the road long enough to spare Storm a glance. His tires ate up the dark road illuminated by the flashing emergency lights on his truck. Unless he wanted to risk their lives, he’d keep his focus in front of him and not on Storm. “If he harms her…”
“We’ll get there in time, Boss.” Storm’s declaration did little to make Jackson feel better. “Don’t let yourself think otherwise.”
It was too late—his mind had made several trips down the darkest possible outcomes already. But even though his fear told him this would end badly, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to get there faster.
If he hadn’t pushed her, she would be at home with him instead of in the hands of the man who’d tried to kill her. Please, don’t let me be too late. “Can you do something useful like find out if Colton got us any backup?”
“He already texted me he did. Gleason and Jennings are in town interviewing folks about Seneca’s poisoning. They’ll meet us there.”
One less thing to worry about. With Colton back at the ranch keeping watch over Aja’s aunt and her employees, they still needed more bodies to take this madman down.
* * *
Aja’s could feel the same paralysis that had locked her in place when the scaffold was falling toward her and when Seneca collapsed. She tried to take a breath, but it was stuck in her chest, burning her lungs.
You can’t do this again, Aja. You will die this time.
She swallowed hard, clearing her throat, and forcing her rib cage to expand so she could take in much needed oxygen and clear her brain of its anxious fog.
“Mat, put the gun down and let’s talk about this.”
Mat squinted at her in confusion, then looked down at his own hand.
“This isn’t for you.” He shoved the gun into the back of his pants, and some of the tension left her.
See, just keep him talking and you’ll get out of this alive.
“I would never hurt you,” he declared. “I’m trying to save you. I keep trying to save you, but everyone keeps getting in the way. This is my last chance.”
“What are you talking about, Mat?”
He ran a ragged, shaking hand through his hair. His eyes were wide and bright with fear. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t faking this. He was panicked about something.
“The night your foreman caught me in the bushes, I was trying to get up the nerve to get you away from Restoration Ranch. Then, at the party, while you were in the basement, I slipped into the kitchen and poured enough roofies in your thermos to knock out a horse. I was certain I could sneak you out of the house unnoticed while the festivities were going on. But Seneca somehow got your drink instead.”
Aja’s brain tried to digest everything spilling from Mat’s mouth in a frantic stream of words. “You poisoned Seneca? Do you realize she could have died?”
He stepped closer to her, remorse bleeding into his face as his silence filled the room. “You have to believe me. It wasn’t my intent. I was trying to save you.” He shook his head and again stepped closer to her. “I know I’m not making any sense. I promise when we’re safe, I’ll tell you everything. All you need to know is that I trusted the wrong people, and right now, they think you are the only thing standing between them and a lot of money. I can’t protect you any longer.”
* * *
They pulled in front of Mat’s office and quickly and quietly made it inside the building with their weapons drawn as they attempted to get their bearings. Jackson could hear a muffled voice coming from the back of the office, but at this distance, he couldn’t understand what was being said. All he knew was it wasn’t Aja’s voice.
Storm must have recognized the panic Jackson was fighting to keep at bay because he placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his eyes questioning if Jackson had his head in the game or not. “How you wanna do this?”
“Fast and hard,” Jackson replied. “We can’t see inside that room, but we need to catch him off guard and hope we can get her out of there.” The layout of the office didn’t offer much in the way of cover. There was a small reception area in the front and a narrow hallway that ran from front to back with a few rooms along the corridor. If they came under fire, things could get dangerous quickly.
They walked carefully along the wall leading to the back offices until they each stood on either side of the closed door.
Jackson used two fingers to signal Storm to kick the door in. With a nod, Storm acknowledged Jackson’s directive, and the door gave way the moment his heavy boot made contact with it.
Jackson was the first in the room. “Texas Rangers, put your hands in the air and get down on the floor.” He scanned the room quickly and spotted Mat
in the center of the room with an arm around Aja’s neck and his gun pointed toward the door.
Jackson yelled, “Gun,” as Storm tried to enter the room. He pushed him aside just in time for the loud bang of gunfire to fill the air.
Jackson needed to get eyes on Aja. He peeked into the doorway to see Mat still standing behind Aja with his arm around her neck.
“Stay back or I will kill her.”
“Mat, you don’t need to do this. They’re the Texas Rangers. There’s no way this ends with you getting away.” Aja’s voice was steady despite the tears streaming down her face. “If you tell me why you’re doing this, I’m sure we can figure this out.”
“I’m trying to protect you,” Mat screamed. “No one would’ve been hurt if you’d just let go of that stupid ranch.”
“What am I missing, Mat? Why do you need my ranch so badly?”
Jackson locked his gaze on to hers, silently encouraging her to keep Mat talking. As long as he was talking, there was a chance things wouldn’t escalate.
Gun still drawn and aimed at Mat, Jackson continued to creep slowly into the room.
“You think you’re so smart with all your fancy degrees. But you still couldn’t figure out what was going on under your own nose on your own land. You’ve been pissing off the wrong people since you came to town. I’ve used up all my goodwill to keep you safe now.”
“Mat.” Jackson called out his name, trying to keep his focus off Aja. “The only way you’re walking out of here is if you put your gun down and let her go.”
“Texas Rangers, huh? You’re signing your own death warrant. Let me pass.”
Mat’s focus was on Jackson and Storm just behind him at the doorway. He didn’t see Aja slipping her fingers into the front pocket of her jeans or the glint of light striking whatever it was in her hand that she slipped into her closed palm.
Jackson gave her a brief glance to make sure she knew what she was doing. Her eyes never wavered. Whatever she was planning, she was fully committed. And if Jackson knew nothing else, it was that he could trust Aja Everett.
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