Chapter Seventeen
Later that night, the sound of a glass clinking woke Jane up from a dead sleep.
Jane blearily focused on her surroundings. She couldn’t see much without her spectacles, so she put them on and sat up in bed.
A couple of candles were blazing on the table illuminating Byron. He scratched his chin, and the whiskers made a raspy sound, like a cat’s tongue.
“Sorry to wake you, darlin’. Don’t worry, I can still shoot straight if I have to. I built up a tolerance level over the years.” Byron sat on a chair, drinking straight from the bottle. He was bare-chested, and his pants were half undone. “Shoulda brought some moonshine with me.”
“You can’t sleep?” Jane sat in the chair opposite him. She rubbed her eyes and yawned as she tried to wake up. The room was chilly, so she pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them to keep warm.
“Not a goddamn wink. Want some?” Byron lifted the bottle, but she shook her head.
Enough is enough.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I think you need to. What happened with your mother?”
Byron took a long pull on the whiskey and didn’t answer her for the longest time. “Why the hell not? I’m drunk enough to tell you tonight.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where do I start?”
“At the beginning.”
He took a deep breath. “Leadin’ up to her murder, my parents were fightin’ a lot. I only overheard snatches of their arguments at the time. The walls weren’t thick enough to block out all the shoutin’.” His mouth twisted. “And my father liked to settle disagreements with his fists.”
“Buckley beat your mother?”
Byron nodded tightly. “Ain’t no excuse for hittin’ a woman. I honestly don’t blame her for steppin’ out on him, and neither one of them were faithful. Buckley was looser than ashes in the wind. You’d be hard pressed to find a woman he wasn’t screwin’.”
“Why?” It wasn’t in her realm of experience. Jane’s relationships had been infrequent and fast, but she’d always been monogamous.
“I guess he figured he was entitled. Buckley was a mobster with a big bank account and killer good looks.” He stroked his jaw. “Momma used to say I was his spittin’ image.”
“You are. I saw pictures of your father when he was a younger man—the two of you could be twins.”
He winced.
Jane hadn’t meant to hurt him. She wondered if Byron worried about following in his father’s footsteps in more ways than one. She’d never seen him like this, drunk and troubled, with an edge of anger. Whatever he was holding back had to be awful.
“Anyhow, Loretta had enough of his bullshit and decided to leave him for another man, Joker.”
Jane was familiar with the story since she’d been the MC’s attorney.
“I heard the rumor. Joker was Axel and Ryker’s father.”
The brothers were members of the Four Horsemen MC. Joker had wound up in jail, just like Buckley, only Joker had been murdered by another inmate years ago. No one knew who killed him. Some people said a rival biker gang, the Raptors, did it, but Jane’s money was on Buckley. As a Dixie Mafia member, he still had power, even on the inside.
“Loretta and Joker were gonna run off together. He planned to join the Raptors for protection, and they’d leave behind the outfit, the club, and their children too.”
“How did you find out?” She doubted Joker or Loretta would share it with him.
“My mother kept a journal. I found it after her death.” Byron lit a cigarette and sucked in the smoke.
It must’ve been painful, finding out his mother would’ve left him either way. It’d taken Jane a while to come to grips with Gail bailing on her. Her father had been devastated by the loss too.
“I doubt your father would’ve let her keep the children. She probably did it to save herself. He had money and contacts, and even if she’d made off with you and your siblings, Buckley wouldn’t have let it go. He’d have used a custody suit to punish her—if he didn’t decide to do something nefarious instead.”
Frankly, Jane wouldn’t have put it past him to murder them all, his children as well as his wife and her lover, in a jealous rage.
“Aw, don’t sugarcoat it. I figured it out on my own.”
“Figured out what?”
“My mother knew I was a bad seed—my father’s son—and she was right.”
“I don’t think so.” Although, until a few days ago, Jane might’ve agreed with his assessment.
“Yeah, well, you don’t know the real me, darlin’.”
“Don’t be stupid, of course I do. I’ve examined every record I could get my hands on, and I’ve watched you for months.” She bit her lip. “Since this whole thing started, you’ve shown me who you really are. The things you do aren’t legal, some of them are downright despicable, but I don’t think you’re a terrible person.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Wanna bet?”
Jane lifted her chin. “Yes.”
“I helped the bastard bury her.”
Her mouth fell open.
“I was on the other side of the door when he shot her. I was up to my ankles in her blood.”
Jane felt queasy.
“So, yeah, I’m a real prince. I helped him cover up the murder of my own mother. I’m such a loyal son—to one parent, at least.” His chuckle was dark, and it sent shivers cascading up her spine.
“This isn’t about being a bad seed, or whatever crazy explanation you’ve come up with. You were a child when she was murdered—a killing which you witnessed. Buckley used your terror to coerce you into helping him.”
“Still don’t change the facts.”
“I can tell you loved her.”
“I did. And I hated her after I found out she was gonna leave us. How fucked up is that?” He turned away.
“It’s only natural for your feelings to be mixed, but it doesn’t change the facts—none of this was your fault.”
He shook his head. “I’m a Beauregard—it’s my last name, and the family is my first duty. Buckley always trotted the phrase out, whenever he made me do somethin’ I didn’t want to. And fuck me if I’m not just like him. I spent my whole life hatin’ the son of a bitch, only to turn into him.”
“Other than your looks, you’re nothing like your father. I’ve seen his rap sheet.” From what she could glean, the Dixie Mafia had ratcheted down their body count since Byron had taken over.
He didn’t acknowledge the comment.
“What happened after she died?”
“Things went from bad to worse. My father was a real piece of work, and she wasn’t there to defend us or care for us. I stepped up to help, and I took the brunt of his rage—until they threw his ass in jail.”
At least she’d been left with Jed, who loved and cared for her. He’d been the more involved parent all along. She couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like to live with Buckley.
“What happened after the arrest?”
“The feds offered him a deal. Buckley could skate on the murder if he helped them build a case against the Dixie Mafia. Can you believe it? Like she was nothin’, a bargainin’ chip.”
“Your father didn’t take the deal.”
“He was an old-school gangster, so it wasn’t even a question—he believed in loyalty to the outfit. Besides, in those days, if he’d have talked, his pals would’ve burned it all down—they’d have killed us and him, taken everything. I guess the old man did me one favor. He kept me alive long enough to take his place.”
“I’m sorry.” Jane didn’t know what else to say.
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have shared this with you, stained you with it.”
What an odd turn of phrase. Does he feel dirty?
“I’m not stained.”
“Not yet, but if you spend any more time with me, you will be. Do yourself a favor, Legal Eagle, fly far, far away from me.” She could
smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the pain in his words. “My day of reckonin’ is comin’, I can feel it.”
“You’re being superstitious.”
“More like realistic. My number will be up sooner rather than later. My story can end only one of two ways—jail or a graveyard. And even if I go to the big house, I won’t be long for this world.”
It sobered her. Byron was right—like most men in his profession, his life wouldn’t end well. Along the way, he’d probably made countless enemies. Even if he weren't sentenced to death, he’d have to fight for his life every day.
“I guess in your business, the truth has a way of coming to light sooner or later.”
“Yeah.” He grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it for her. “Have a drink with me.”
She didn’t have the heart to refuse.
Byron raised his drink with a mocking smile. “To the future.”
Somehow she forced herself to choke down a sip. Perhaps they both had terrible futures barreling toward them. They were silent for a long time, taking it all in—the awfulness of their impending dooms.
“Enough of this self-pityin’ bullshit. And you don’t have to be so nice to me, darlin’—just keep givin’ me cold, clear, and sometimes cruel truths.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I think Buckley wouldn’t have been such a bastard if someone would’ve called him out, told him exactly what they thought of him.”
It suddenly made so much sense. Byron wanted a system of checks and balances—someone who’d tell him when he was in the wrong.
Things just weren’t the same between them anymore.
Now she cared about Byron, had gotten used to having him around. But where could they possibly go from here?
Byron seemed to be having the same thoughts. “I’ll protect you, keep you safe. And then I’m gonna do my duty and get the fuck away from you.” Byron placed his hand over hers. “I ain’t suitable for anythin’ more, not in the long term, at least. I’m Buckley’s son, and I’d best remember that.” He lurched to his feet and then stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly. “I need to get some shut-eye. You comin’?” He strolled over to the bed, shucked off his pants, and then laid down.
Her brain was buzzing with too many thoughts to get any rest.
“No, I’m going to work for a bit.”
“Okay. Promise me somethin’.”
“What?”
“Don’t let Valentine break you, like he did Juliet.”
“And what about you? Are you broken?”
He smirked. “Can’t you tell?”
With that, Byron rolled over and eventually fell asleep.
Hmm. Maybe they were both a bit broken—but their jagged edges fit together.
***
Since rest was out of the question, Jane kept busy. She checked email, did some research on Juliet—and was dismayed by the results. Juliet had a few run-ins with the law, mostly drunk and disorderly charges. None of them had been serious, and she’d gotten probation for six months. The behavior suggested Juliet wasn’t coping well. She’d even been in the psych ward due to a suicide attempt.
Jane hesitated to put witnesses on the stand who’d had mental health issues and criminal records. The prosecutors wouldn’t have a choice in this case since Valentine’s other victims were dead, but it didn’t bode well for a conviction.
A bit later, she gave Jed a call, and he answered on the first ring as expected. Jed got up with the sunrise and went for a walk every morning. Then he liked to have a cup of coffee and read the morning paper when the house was quiet.
“Hi, Dad.” Listening to Byron describe his despicable father made Jane realize she’d taken hers for granted.
“Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Thank the Lord.” He sighed. “How are you holdin’ up, honey?”
“I’m alive and kicking.” It wasn’t saying much for her situation, but it was one bright spot.
“That’s what counts.”
“Is it?”
“Durin’ the darker times in my life, wakin’ up alive was all I could ask for. I figured long as I got to see another dawn, I had something to look forward to…until things got better, and they always do. Let me prove it to you. Go to the window and look at the sun climbin’ in the sky.”
Jane peeled the curtains back. As always, her father was right. Something about the radiant golden horizon gave her courage.
“Thanks, Dad, I needed some perspective this morning.”
“Anytime.”
“Tell me what you’ve been up to.” Jane wanted to hear his voice and forget about her problems for a bit. Jed told her about a fundraiser he’d gone to last night, and she soaked in the normalcy of it all. When the conversation lulled, she sighed. “I’m glad I called. I forgot to tell you something the other day.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to schedule a Sunday supper later this month.”
“You got the time? I know you lead a busy life.”
“I’ll make the time.” Jane had to set some priorities, and family time needed to go near the top. Her father wouldn’t be around forever.
“Count me in—sounds like fun.” She heard a chair creaking and envisioned him sitting at the kitchen table. “Now, about your job….”
“Stop right there.” While Jane was thinking of making a change, she doubted Jed would approve, though he’d respect her decision.
He laughed.
“Do you wish you’d made more time for a personal life after she left?” Ever since he’d brought it up, it’d been bothering her. What if she was letting life pass her by?
“Yes, if I had, I might not be an old codger ramblin’ around this big house by myself. A career gives me purpose, a cause to work toward, but it ain’t the only thing. I’m glad I had you in my life.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
“You should really find yourself a fella and make me a grandbaby.”
“Dad!” Jane laughed uneasily. Somehow, when he mentioned a grandchild, an image of Byron holding a baby popped into her head. Probably because he’d been so wonderful with Brady. He’d be an excellent father.
And now she was scaring herself. Raising babies with a mobster…? Out of the question. These overwhelming feelings were clouding her judgment.
“Just puttin’ it out there. Hmm, I’ll have to think of a good topic for supper.”
“I’ll bring the pie with me. Oh, and I want to bring a friend of mine along if it’s okay with you.”
Jane clasped a hand over her mouth. Oh, yes, she had lost her mind, because she’d just invited a member of the Dixie Mafia over to her father’s house for dinner. And yet, she wondered if Jed would like Byron after he got over the initial shock.
“Sure thing. Is it Georgia?”
“Uh, no. Another friend of mine.”
“A male friend?”
Jane sighed. “Yes, he happens to be a man.”
“You’ve never brought a young man home with you.” Jed gave a whoop so loud she had pull the phone away from her ear.
“Yes, I know.” Until now, she’d had a perfect record.
“And you like him?”
“Yes, actually.” Which was strange. “I didn’t want to, but I do.” Byron had been nothing but kind to her, helped her with an impossible task, and tonight he’d opened up to her. Not to mention the way he kisses.
“Know what this sounds like?”
“Don’t say it.”
“Love.”
Jane groaned. “Slow down. It’s only a dinner.”
“Who is he? Anyone I know?”
The name Beauregard was infamous in Texas.
“He’s my bodyguard.”
“And…? I need details.”
“I can tell you he’s handsome and wealthy.”
This wasn’t the sort of conversation she could have over the phone. Actually, if she prepped Jed for the me
eting, he’d call the whole thing off. It’d be best to spring it on him, guess who’s coming to dinner style.
“Fine, keep your secrets for now. But I love the effect he’s havin’ on you, so I like the man already.”
“I really want you to hold that thought.”
After hanging up with her father, Jane made coffee in the tiny hotel room coffee pot. It wasn’t Starbucks, but it was hot and caffeinated, which she needed this morning.
And then her phone rang.
Jane didn’t even glance at it.
“Hi again, Dad.”
“Guess again.”
She nearly dropped the cell. Valentine.
“I thought you’d never get off the phone.”
No one had buzzed in on the other line. Jane opened her mouth, ready to yell for Byron, but his voice forestalled her.
“Don’t wake the mobster. This is about you and me, the way it should’ve always been.”
“What do you want?”
An unspoken “you” hovered in the air. “How’s True Love?”
Oh, God, he knew.
“What do you mean?”
“Stop lying, Jane. I was wrong about you.”
“And I was wrong about you too.”
He laughed. “You’ve been very busy the past couple of days. In fact, you’re sitting in the Love Nest motel at this very moment.”
Jane bit the inside of her cheek.
For a wild second, she wondered if he’d somehow snuck into the room and was spying on her, but there was a much more logical solution.
“You’ve been watching me.” Her gaze settled on the open laptop in front of her. “On the computer.” Jane slammed the lid shut, but it was much too late.
I’m so stupid. Once she learned about Valentine’s tendency to stalk people electronically, she should’ve had Vick scan her laptop.
“And your cell phone.”
She snatched the thing away from her ear like it was a viper in her grasp. To finish the call, Jane hit the speaker phone button and lowered the volume so she wouldn’t wake Byron. Yet.
“Ah, the wonders of technology. A simple virus slipped into an email can give you a window into someone’s world without their knowledge.”
Again, she felt dirty, violated. As soon as the conversation was over, Jane would haul all their electronic devices out to the SUV, shut them off, pull out their batteries. Though it was too little, too late—the damage had already been done.
Blood in the Water (Dixie Mafia Series Book 2) Page 19
