All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel

by Dixie Lee Brown

  She’d use the wall as leverage, duck, and grab the book, then roll across the bed and catch him off…

  “Are you finished yet?” he asked.

  David? No… it was Joe. Not David.

  Cara’s breathing came out in a rush as she stared at the figure. Then she swore softly, relief turning her insides to a quivering mass. She needed to sit. He was on the bed, and even though it wasn’t David, she couldn’t make herself sit there. Instead, she slid down the wall to the floor. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she raised them to cradle her head. Damn it! She hadn’t wanted him to see her like this. She couldn’t afford to show weakness.

  “Are you all right? I have to say, I’ve never had a woman try to get away from me quite so enthusiastically. Were you going to crack my skull with that Bible?”

  He hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. The amusement in his tone set her nerves on edge.

  “You startled me. That’s all.” She couldn’t still the shaking in her voice.

  “You said his name… your ex-husband. David, right?”

  Cara’s gaze flew to his face. Was it true? Had she spoken his name in her terror? She had to keep herself under control. Joe was watching her, even though the room was partially shadowed.

  “You thought I was him, didn’t you? Why does he frighten you so much?”

  “He doesn’t. I was just caught off guard waking up in a strange place.” She sounded defensive, even to herself.

  “Okay. If that’s the story you want to stick with…” He shrugged as though it made no difference one way or the other.

  “What are you doing in here anyway?”

  “It’s the only bed. I came to see if you’d mind sharing.”

  “You can have it. I’ll take the sofa.”

  Joe stood, stepped around the bed, and held out a hand to help her up. She hesitated a moment, then stretched out her hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Closer to him now, the hard glint in his eyes and the stubborn set of his jaw were visible. When she tried to pull away, he held on to her hand.

  “No, you won’t. The bed is big enough for both of us and much more comfortable than the couch. I know. I tried it.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Cara tried to squeeze by him. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I know, because you’ll be right here on the bed.”

  “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to sleep with you.”

  “We’re not going to argue about this.” Without warning, he swept her into his arms and tossed her, none too gently, onto the bed. He stretched out on the opposite side and caught her as she tried to roll off. His arm lay across her stomach, trapping her arms.

  Panic tore through her. “Please, let me go,” she whispered.

  “Only if you promise not to run away.”

  The more she struggled, the tighter his hold on her became. Finally she stopped, lying still and stiff, glaring into the darkness.

  “That’s better.” Joe’s tone was amused. “Now, do you suppose you could relax?”

  She snorted.

  “If you stop and think about this rationally, you’ll realize if I wanted to hurt you, I could have let those hit men do their job and saved me the trouble. As for sleeping with you, believe me, right now I’m only interested in sleep.”

  Joe couldn’t know what holding her down on the bed would do to her, how she’d react. Reason told her he meant her no harm. Not every man was like David, but David had taught her well and the lesson wouldn’t soon be forgotten. It was several minutes before she could still the rapid beating of her heart. As she began to relax, Joe’s grip loosened and finally he released her entirely. They were silent for several minutes, but Cara knew he wasn’t asleep.

  “I have to tell my father,” she said softly. “He still has a controlling interest in the company.”

  “Charlie went to your father. His cover was blown. That’s what got him killed.”

  “My father is involved in this too?” She propped herself on one elbow to look at him.

  “He’s only guilty of believing his son innocent. Unfortunately, when he went to Brian with the information about Charlie, he became an accessory. Whether Murphy hangs him out to dry will remain to be seen.”

  What was she going to do now? She was totally alone. Her brother was a ruthless murderer. Her father was the informant who cost Charlie his life. There was no one left.

  It wasn’t like she’d never been alone before. She’d pick up the pieces and go on. Maybe it wasn’t her first choice, but she was a survivor. She had one thing to do before she moved on with her life, though.

  Her sadness almost choked her as she started to speak. “I have to make sure Brian pays for what he did. I have to… for Charlie. Will you help me?”

  Joe was quiet for a moment. “We’ll have to trust each other if we’re going to work together.”

  “Uh… okay.”

  Joe chuckled and rolled onto his side. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. By then, maybe you’ll be able to say that and mean it.”

  She lay back down. He was right. It would be wise to wait until her emotions weren’t so raw before she made her decision.

  Cara turned on her side with her back to him and fluffed her pillow. A few minutes later, still wide awake, she inched closer to Joe’s warmth. Then, feeling strangely safe and protected, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  Saturday, 6:40 am

  WHEN CARA CRAWLED from the bed at first light, Joe rose on one elbow and watched her cross to the door, but he didn’t move to stop her. She could have walked out of the motel if she’d wanted to. Where would she go? With a blanket from the closet, she stepped out on the deck and closed the door. Her heart was heavy within her chest. The gunmen on the beach last night. She’d killed one of them. Everything she’d learned about her brother and Charlie. That unspeakable tape. Her life had turned upside down. She’d lost her brother, the closest person in the world to her, and the only one standing between her and David. What was she going to do now?

  Brian was eleven years older than she, her father’s son from his first marriage. She’d idolized him from the time she could walk, being the annoying tag-along little sister to his patient and protective big brother.

  When he first learned of the abuse, Brian wanted to kill her husband, but she begged him not to get involved. She feared what David would do to him. Brian agreed, grudgingly, enrolling her in self-defense classes instead. That backfired. When she got an opportunity to use what she’d learned, David merely retaliated using more efficient methods to inflict pain.

  Cara went to Brian the last time David put her in the hospital. Brian promised it would be the last time, and it was. Somehow he secured her freedom from the Dennelli family she’d naively married into. Not one of her finer moments. Without her brother’s intervention, filing for divorce would have been suicide. That David actually signed the papers was unbelievable. What had her brother promised the Dennellis?

  Since her father abdicated his role in her life years ago, Brian was the only family she claimed. She loved him. How could she possibly reconcile the brother she’d known all her life with the man who tortured Charlie and tried to have her killed? Brother or not, he was a monster. He wasn’t the person she thought he was, probably never had been, which made him an accomplished imposter, someone who cared nothing for her or anyone else. That knowledge shook her to the core and threatened her tenuous grip on reality.

  Yesterday she’d had a chance to start a new life, thanks mostly to Brian. Today, the fragile framework of her new life was splintering, leaving her alone, exposed, and vulnerable.

  A thread of anger shot through her. She’d spent enough time feeling defenseless. Not even her brother was taking her back there. She was never going to be a helpless victim again.

  Cara huddled beneath the blanket, shivering from the cold wind and staring blindly at the horizon, when Joe appeared at the railing beside her and held out a cup of
coffee. The rolling surf covered any greeting he might have extended. She turned away when he frowned at her red-rimmed eyes but accepted the coffee, letting it warm her hands and insides.

  He leaned toward her until their shoulders touched. “You’ll feel better after a nice long shower.”

  “Yeah, that’ll help.” She laughed scornfully, but she went to do as he suggested, not knowing what else to do.

  The shower did warm and relax her, and she started to feel almost normal, although she wasn’t really sure what normal was at this point. When she came from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her, Joe sat on the edge of the bed with a pair of scissors and a box of hair color. He wore faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged his chest and slim waist. Her gaze traveled upward until it met his, then, realizing she’d been staring, her face warmed.

  His eyes twinkled and that infernal grin was back on his face. He openly admired the parts of her body the bath towel didn’t cover, before his gaze came to rest on her face.

  She was too exhausted to be embarrassed. Besides, this man had seen her soul, ripped open and bleeding. What was a little skin?

  “I’ll be a few more minutes,” she said from the doorway.

  “I’d like to make it a little harder for the rest of the goon squad in town to find you.” He held up the hair color and scissors.

  She fingered her wet, blond hair, groaning inwardly. She’d finally found a decent color and grown it long enough to pull back in a ponytail. Now he wanted her to cut it? She’d told herself she’d do whatever was necessary to put Brian behind bars. If she really meant that, cutting and coloring her hair was a small price to pay.

  “I’ll help.” He regarded her with solemn eyes.

  “Let me get some clothes on first, in private.” She waited until he got the hint and went to wait in the outer room.

  Her bags had mysteriously appeared while she was in the shower. She probably had Joe, or the elusive Murphy, to thank for that. How they retrieved them from the motel room next to Brian’s, she didn’t want to know. Apparently, Joe had gone through them, too, and laid out some nondescript things for her to wear. Cara repacked the black pants and white T-shirt he’d chosen and dressed quickly in faded jeans and a royal blue V-neck pullover, tying a blue silk scarf around her neck to hide the worst of the scars.

  She and Joe would need some ground rules if they were going to work together, the least of which would be she decided what she wore.

  He tapped on the bedroom door. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She ran a comb through her hair.

  He eyed her clothes, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, composed his features into a blank expression, and followed her into the bathroom.

  “You’re sure this is necessary?” She tugged on one of her blond curls as she caught her image in the mirror.

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was necessary. Sometimes the smallest precaution can save someone’s life. Like dressing to blend in, for example.”

  Cara ignored his barb and his meaningful stare. In the mirror, she watched him take a handful of her hair and chop it to chin length then move on to the next piece and the next. He glanced up, caught her watching him, and smiled apologetically. “We’ll get a hairdresser to fix it up later.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” He turned his attention back to her hair.

  “Last night you said if we were going to work together, we needed to trust each other. Does that mean you’re going to let me help put Brian in jail?”

  Joe shrugged and didn’t look up. “I want Sinclair probably more than you do. If we work together, we’ll have a better chance.”

  “Do you trust me? You thought I was involved in Charlie’s murder, didn’t you?” Her voice broke on his name.

  His hands stilled in her hair, and his eyes met hers. A muscle ticked on his jaw as his lips thinned. “I was wrong. I’m sorry, but I had to be sure, Cara. Charlie told me you didn’t know what Sinclair was up to, but I had to know for sure you didn’t make a fool of him.”

  “Are you sure now?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “Let’s just say I’m a good judge of character.”

  “Maybe I’m a good actress.”

  “Are you?” He raised an eyebrow and watched her closely.

  She couldn’t keep from laughing. “No. I’m a lousy actress.”

  With a low chuckle, he went back to chopping her hair.

  “I don’t think it’ll be as easy for me,” she said softly.

  Joe glanced at her curiously.

  “To trust you.”

  He frowned. “It’ll be less complicated if you do… but I understand. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  “How long do you think it’ll take?”

  “I don’t know.” His eyes teased her. “Why? Tired of me already?”

  She fell silent. The truth was, she felt safe with him, and she wouldn’t tire of that any time soon. There were other things he made her feel too… things that left her breathless and frightened her.

  Finally, he finished cutting her hair and looked at her for approval.

  She laughed, plucking at the blunt ends. No two strands were the same length, but it didn’t matter. A little styling gel would have it sticking out all over anyway. “It’s good enough.”

  He opened the box of hair color and read through the directions. She sat in the chair he indicated while he draped a towel around her shoulders. The next instant, his fingers worked the knot of her scarf loose and whipped it from around her neck, uncovering her scars and leaving her feeling naked and cold. His movement had been so quick, when she grabbed for the silken fabric, she came up empty. Joe met her gaze questioningly. Heat flooded her face and she looked away.

  “Wouldn’t want to ruin your scarf.” He concentrated on her hair as he began to carefully apply the color.

  A strained silence invaded the room as the unspoken question hung over them. What would she say if he asked about the scars? It would be best if he knew nothing more about David. Cara worried and waited impatiently for the allotted amount of time to pass before the final rinsing.

  Finally he tapped his watch then took her hand and pulled her up. “Lean over the sink.”

  “I can handle this part.”

  “Just do it. It’ll be faster if I help.”

  “All of a sudden we’re in a hurry?”

  “It’s always a good idea to stay ahead of the bad guys.” He pointed to the sink.

  She thought about defying him, but something told her he’d use whatever means necessary to get what he wanted. Besides, she knew he’d noticed the scars, even though he was polite enough not to comment. As long as he didn’t see the other one. She tugged unconsciously at the hem of her shirt. Sighing loudly, she leaned over the sink. “Have you been in a lot of these situations?”

  “A few.”

  Fear tingled along her spine. How ruthless was this man? Maybe last night was a slow night for him. What if she regretted forming an alliance with him? Unfortunately, she’d given him her word and it wasn’t her style to back out. She’d see it through until there was justice for Charlie.

  He was almost finished when her shirt started to ride up, exposing her lower back. Instantly she tensed and reached to pull the fabric down. She straightened and took a step away from him.

  “Hold still. I’m not done.” He pushed her down and knocked her hands away.

  She held her breath as he paused and gently lifted the hem of her shirt. In desperation, she twisted free and ducked out from under his arm.

  It was too late. It showed on his face.

  “We’re done now.”

  Joe went chillingly silent. Shock was replaced by anger in his eyes, but the revulsion she’d come to expect was strangely absent. There was something there she liked even less. Pity.

  “I need to rinse the rest of those chemicals out of y
our hair.” His voice was calm, as though he hadn’t just seen the scar from hell.

  “I’ll finish it,” she snapped.

  Again, his gaze held hers in silence. Finally, he picked up the towel that had fallen from her shoulders and tossed it to her then left the room. She pulled the door closed and locked it. Humiliation flooded her face with heat. Would she ever get used to it? Tears formed in her eyes. God, she hated crying. It was a frailty she couldn’t afford.

  Quickly, she returned to the sink and finished rinsing. She towel dried her short brown hair then completed the job with the motel’s blow-dryer. When she was finished, she had to admit it wasn’t so bad. The dark brown, combined with her blue eyes and tanned skin, added an exotic element to her face. If only her life could be changed as easily as her hairstyle.

  She breathed deeply before she opened the door. Thankfully, Joe wasn’t in the bedroom. She threw the last of her toiletries into her bags and zipped them closed. He met her as she stepped into the outer room, took her bags, and set them on the floor. Then he motioned her into the same chair he’d forced her to sit in last night and took his place in front of her.

  “Who did that to you?” His eyes blazed with anger.

  “Leave it alone, Joe. It’s none of your business.”

  “Who did it?” His voice was hard as granite.

  “I’m not going to tell you anything.” She jumped up. He caught her wrist, tightened his grip when she tried to twist free, and pushed her back in the chair. She glared at him, rubbing the red marks already forming on her wrist.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Anything that endangers you is my business.”

  “Oh right. I forgot. You’re my self-appointed savior. Well, I didn’t ask for your help.”

  “No. Charlie did, and I’m going to keep the promise I made. That means you’re going to tell me anything I want to know. Right now, I want to know who put that mark on you.”

  The knot in Cara’s stomach made her nauseous and the room seemed to sway. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She didn’t have the strength to fight him. He didn’t care. He was only interested in his precious promise. She hated him in that moment. Him, and Brian, and David, and even Charlie. Damn them all.