Her Defender (MacLachlan Security Group Book 2)

by Rianna Campbell

  He’d climbed the ranks at the usual rate while he was in the Marines, meaning about as fast as molasses in a snowstorm. He wasn’t a born leader. He didn’t have what it took to inspire legions. He’d kept his head down and done what he was supposed to do. He followed orders, looked out for his brothers and kept himself alive. Not much else.

  He was good at his job, that much he was sure of. But could he handle being responsible for a large chunk of the company’s operations?

  He tried to shove his concerns away and focus on whatever sport was being played in front of him, but he couldn’t seem to get his mind off of the idea.

  His cell phone buzzed and, as it had for the last two weeks, his heart skipped a beat when he thought for just a second that it might be Janie. But just like every other time, it wasn’t. It was Alexandra.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he answered, trying to keep his tone light.

  “Hi,” she replied.

  “What’s up?” he asked. It wasn’t odd for her to call, but he couldn’t think what she could possibly need. He’d given her names and suggestions for everything from the food to the music for Connor’s party. It was next week and he was pretty sure she had everything taken care of already.

  “Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re still going to help me with Connor’s party next week,” she said.

  “Of course I am,” he replied. “Unless… you don’t want me to.” Janie and Alexandra were best friends, and Janie had always been worried that if things went south with them it would get weird with their friends. He’d been so damn sure that they’d work out, he hadn’t thought about it for more than a second.

  “What? Don’t be silly. Of course I want you there, and you’re one of Connor’s best friends. You have to be there,” she said. She sounded sincere, but he still had his doubts.

  “Well, I thought maybe, if you’d invited Janie…”

  “Now you’re just being stupid,” Alexandra snorted. “Besides, Janie won’t be there. She got a call this afternoon about her father. Apparently he’s in the hospital.”

  “Is he okay?” Jackson asked, sitting up and setting his drink aside.

  “I don’t know. She said the doctors thought he’d had a heart attack. They were talking about surgery. She and Makenna flew out to Mississippi this afternoon. She took at least a week off from work, but she might have to stay longer.”

  “I see,” Jackson said. And now he did. Alexandra hadn’t been after an RSVP. She’d wanted to tell him without being obvious about it. Now, if Janie ever asked, she could just say that it came up in conversation without admitting that she’d called him specifically to tell him.

  “Well, I’ll make a note that you’re going to be there,” Alexandra said. “For the caterer, you know?”

  “Sure,” Jackson said, smiling faintly. Connor was certainly a lucky one. Alexandra was kind hearted, fiercely loyal and couldn’t lie worth a damn. “Thanks, Lex.”

  “No problem,” she replied. “I’ll see you at the party.”

  At least now he had something else to worry about aside from his possible promotion. Janie and Makenna must be out of their minds right now, not knowing what was going on. Her relationship with her father was complicated, but Janie loved him. And poor Makenna…

  He pulled up Janie’s contact information and hit send. They must have still been on the plane because it went straight to voicemail. The phone beeped, and suddenly he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

  “Janie, it’s me,” he stammered. “I heard about your dad and… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. For everything. If you need anything… well, you know where to find me.”

  He heard the door open and close and Parker stuck his head into the living room a few moments later.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning a shoulder against the doorway.

  “Hey,” Jackson replied, eyeing him warily. Parker hadn’t been in a chatty mood lately, and with everything else that had happened that day, he was starting to worry that Parker was about to lay something on him. He didn’t need anything else to worry about right now.

  “You good?” Jackson asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Yup. You good?” Parker asked, cocking his head to the side. Parker was a formidable son of a bitch when he wanted to be. He liked to play the tough guy, but he was smart as a whip and intuitive to boot. He would have made one hell of an interrogator if he’d had a mind to.

  Just the way he was looking at him, like his blue eyes could see into his soul, made Jackson want to crack and spill the whole pathetic story with him.

  Jackson downed his whiskey and slammed the glass down onto the coffee table.

  “No. I’m not,” Jackson said, looking at his hands. The gash from the bed frame was mostly healed, as were his scraped knuckles, but the cut on his wrist from that night with Janie was still red and angry.

  “You want to talk about it?” Parker asked, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I don’t think so,” Jackson replied, shaking his head. “Not yet, anyway. But thanks.”

  “Anytime, brother,” Parker replied, pushing off the wall. “I’m just across the hall if you need me.”

  With that, Parker made his way to his room and Jackson heard his door open and close. Jackson stretched out on the couch and tried to enjoy the comfort of knowing his buddy was just down the hall if he needed him.

  One weight off his shoulders, Jackson slept better that night than he had in more than a week. If only he’d wake up in the morning to learn it had all been a bad dream, preferably with Janie there beside him in his bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The past thirty-six hours had been grueling. The flight had been a torturous seven hours including the layover and it was after ten o’clock before they arrived in Jackson, Mississippi. It was an hour drive from there to the small town where they’d grown up, which meant it was close to midnight before they laid eyes on their father.

  He was alive - sedated and pale, but alive. Janie said a silent prayer of thanks before trying to track down a doctor so they could get some answers. Once they managed to wrangle someone, they were told that their father had indeed had a heart attack, though a mild one. They’d been able to perform an angioplasty and place a stent to open up the blocked artery and the odds were good for a full recovery.

  Makenna had insisted on staying the night, despite the doctor and nurses telling her that it was best just to let him rest. Janie was exhausted and decided to head back to their father’s house to sleep. She dreaded being in that house again, but was too tired to even think about getting a hotel.

  She did her best not to notice anything as she made her way up the stairs to her old room. Apparently, it had been turned into a craft room of some sort, so instead she crawled into Makenna’s bed and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  She’d returned in the morning to find her father still sleeping and Makenna looking haggard and pale. She managed to convince her sister to go home so she could sleep for a few hours, take a shower and change her clothes. They’d switched off shifts for the rest of the day until midafternoon when her father woke up just long enough to eat a little and receive more medication before falling asleep again.

  Now she sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair provided for visitors trying to catch a little shut eye before her father woke up again. Makenna had gone home last night to get some sleep and Janie couldn’t wait for morning so that she could do the same.

  It was nearly dawn and she was just nodding off when her father spoke, jarring her awake.

  “Pumpkin?” he rasped.

  “I’m here, Dad,” she said, scooting forward so he could see her.

  “Thought I dreamt it,” he said quietly.

  “Nope. Not a dream,” she sighed. “Makenna’s at the house, but she’ll be back in a little while.”

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said slowly. “I don’t deserve it.”

  “It’s alright, Dad,” Janie said,
not wanting him to get upset.

  “No. I wasn’t… there for you. I don’t deserve to have you here for me.”

  “Dad, we can talk about this later,” Janie said, patting his hand.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. His eyes were glassy and he blinked rapidly. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You’re welcome,” Janie said softly.

  “You’re up!” Makenna said, smiling as she hurried into the room carrying two coffees and a bag of what smelled like pastries. She handed Janie a paper cup and set her own cup down on the table by the window, along with the bag of goodies.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, pulling up the other chair and taking his other hand.

  “Like I was hit by a bus,” he grunted.

  “The doctor said you’re going to be weak for a while, but in a few weeks you’ll be back on your feet again,” Makenna said, giving him an encouraging smile.

  “A few weeks?” her father groaned. “Good Lord.”

  “You’re lucky you’re alive,” Janie reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

  “Janie!” Makenna hissed, horrified.

  “It’s true!” Janie pointed out. “He should count himself lucky it’s only a few weeks of rest and not months. If they’d had to do a bypass he could be looking at months of recovery time.”

  “I know, but we need to stay positive!” Makenna whispered.

  “Janie’s right, pudding cup,” her father said. “I’ve taken too much for granted as it is. I need to appreciate how lucky I am for once.”

  Janie was growing uncomfortable. Her father was talking like he was about to start opening up for a heart to heart, no pun intended, and she wasn’t ready for that.

  “Well, It’s my turn to get a shower and some sleep,” Janie said, standing up and stretching.

  Makenna frowned and opened her mouth, but her father spoke up.

  “You should get some rest. I’m sure those chairs aren’t very comfortable.”

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” Janie replied, grabbing her coffee and her purse before bolting out the door.

  She was a coward, but she didn’t care. She didn’t know what he wanted to say, but whatever it was, she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not while he was still lying in a hospital bed after surviving a heart attack.

  No. She would wait until he was back on his feet and healthy so that she could tell him all the things she’d never said without feeling like she was kicking him while he was down. She wanted a level playing field for what she needed to do.

  And if he intended to make some big apology, she sure as shit wasn’t going to be guilted into accepting it by the sight of him in a sickbed, on the brink of death. If he was after forgiveness, he was going to earn it, damnit.

  She got back to the house and tossed her purse on the floor by the door before falling face first onto the bed - Makenna’s bed. As she kicked off her shoes, she idly wondered how long it had taken Nancy to obliterate any trace of her once she was gone. Probably only a few hours, if she knew Nancy.

  Janie remembered that she’d finally plugged her phone in to charge the morning before as she was leaving for the hospital, and she rolled over and grabbed it off the nightstand. She turned it on and scanned her messages quickly to make sure there was nothing she needed to respond to right away. She had three voicemails and, as much as she wanted to pass out, she would sleep better knowing that she hadn’t missed any urgent messages.

  The first was from Alexandra, asking her to text with an update when she could and telling her not to worry about work while she was gone. The second was from Angel. She’d seen the note Janie had left her and wanted Janie to let her know how her father was doing when she had the time.

  Janie had already spoken to Alexandra yesterday using the landline and given her an update so she was just going to assume that she’d keep Angel up to date. She deleted the messages and moved on to the third.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she listened to Jackon’s voice, letting his deep baritone wash over her. The ache in her chest was nearly unbearable. God, she wished he was here with her. She could use his strong, steady presence to lean on now when her emotioned and nerves were all frayed and raw.

  But then she remembered what he’d done and the pain was still there. It had dulled somewhat, but it was still very real. Janie did her best to push away thoughts of Jackson and sleep. She could only deal with one disaster at a time.

  After a nap and a shower, Janie was feeling a bit more human. She grabbed her phone and went downstairs to find something to eat. She toasted a bagel, slathered it with cream cheese and sat down at the scarred kitchen table to eat.

  As she ate, she stared at her phone. She kept thinking about Jackson’s voicemail. She debated calling him back, or sending him a text, just to let him know she’d gotten his message, but decided against it.

  She had thought about calling him, despite what she’d told Alexandra. She just didn’t know what it was she wanted from him. He’d already apologized and she believed he meant it. So, what did she want? That was the question she just couldn’t seem to answer.

  She checked her watch as she finished her bagel and tossed the plate in the sink. She’d have to think about it later. It was mid afternoon at this point and she needed to get back to the hospital. They doctors were talking about releasing him soon and she needed to talk to them about recovery times and dietary restrictions and all that before he came home.

  Everything was in a freefall at the moment, and that was a feeling that Janie was not comfortable with. She had no idea how long she was going to have to stay here or what was going to happen to her father if she left. She hadn’t talked to Makenna about her long term plans. Would she stay, or would she come back to New York with her?

  It was eerie being back in her childhood home and she didn’t like the idea that she’d have to stay here for any significant amount of time. Aside from all the less than warm memories these walls held, she’d never had many friends here.

  And while the house was clean and tidy, it certainly didn’t have all the comforts she was used to in New York. That alone wouldn’t have been an issue, afterall, she was used to small town living, but the feeling of familiarity but being out of place at the same time was disorienting. And she didn’t have any of the things that she would normally turn to for comfort.

  Yes, she could take a trip to the store and get whatever she wanted to eat and drink. She could pick up her brand of toothpaste and her favorite flavor of coffee, but she couldn’t open her window at night and listen to the traffic noises that she found oddly soothing.

  She couldn’t pop into Alexandra’s office with chinese food for a chat or grab a glass of wine and sit on the back patio in her favorite chair and listen to the neighbor practice his cello. This place wasn’t home anymore. She wasn’t sure it ever had been.

  New York was her home now and she liked the life she had. Here she just felt… lost. And that feeling, on top of all the family drama that she wasn’t equipped to handle, had her feeling overwhelmed and anxious.

  She picked up her phone and dialed Bonnie’s number. She needed someone to talk her through this mess before she fell apart.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” Bonnie answered.

  “Well, you’ll never guess where I am,” Janie sighed.

  “Mississippi,” Bonnie replied, as if it was obvious.

  “How? How did you know?” Janie asked.

  “It’s an inevitable part of the process. You were going to end up back there eventually.”

  “I don’t recall that being part of my counseling.”

  “Because when I tell people that, they tend to fight it and it takes longer than it needs to. It’s best that you figure that part out on your own.”

  “Well, I didn’t figure anything out, so the jokes on you,” Janie explained everything that had happened since the last time they’d spoken, just after her relapse. After she was done, there was a long pause before Bonnie
spoke.

  “Well, you’ve certainly had an eventful few weeks, haven’t you?” she laughed. Janie couldn’t help but laugh with her. It was either laugh or cry at the absurd turn her life had taken lately. “How are you coping?”

  “Not very well.” Janie admitted. “That’s sort of why I called you. I hate being back here. Most of my memories here are terrible, I don’t have any of my stuff and I just… want to go home,” Janie whined.

  “I know, babe, but you need this more than you think,” Bonnie assured her.

  “Why? What good is this going to do?” Janie complained.

  “Well, aside from giving you an opportunity to reconnect with your father and your sister, get some things off your chest and start the healing process, you need to see this as a chance to confront the boogie man.”

  “What the actual fuck are you talking about?” Janie said, stunned.

  “Everyone in recovery, no matter what they’re recovering from, has triggers and stressors, right?”

  “Yeah,” Janie said skeptically.

  “And there’s always something that makes someone pick up that first bottle of booze or take that first hit, or start starving themselves. Sometimes it’s a series of events that stretch over years, sometimes it’s a single catastrophic event. Whatever it is, it’s the boogie man. It’s the thing they least want to think about.. Trouble is, even if you don’t think about him, he’s still there. The only way to get rid of it is to put a spotlight on it and deal with it.”

  “No offense, but that sounds like bullshit,” Janie replied.

  “It’s not the most elegant analogy, but I find it’s pretty accurate. You want fancy clinical terminology, you're barking up the wrong tree,” Bonne replied.

  “Well, I knew that,” Janie laughed.

  “So, confront your boogie man. Take some time to walk around the house and just… remember. Let it all come back. Spend some time… in your feels, as the kids say these days. Grieve what you lost, confront what you fear and appreciate how far you’ve come. You can thank me later.”

  “You sound pretty confident about this.”