Slowly Ava lifted her head and looked at him. “No,” she said.
—
It was not what they’d agreed on, she knew that. But what Collins had said changed everything. She hadn’t known her mother had been investigating Jimmy Troy and his arms ring. And not only that, her mother had gotten the bastard arrested.
You know what that means.
Of course she did. That Troy had been arrested and then jumped bail. Which was why he’d turned up in the Lone Star offices as someone to collect a bounty on.
She’d prepared herself for the pain of ripping the scab off an old wound. But she wasn’t prepared for the rush of anger that came along with it. A deep, furious anger at the men who’d basically destroyed the life she’d once known. Whose selfishness in protecting their own hides had taken her mother from her and changed her father beyond all recognition.
Somehow a random act of violence, such as the dealer shooting her mom, would have been easier to deal with. It was simply that her mother had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and who could predict that? But the reality that some bastard had ordered her death to protect his own interests? No, that was something different.
And if there was one thing she wanted to do in this world now, it was take Jimmy Troy and his whole goddamn empire down.
Rush was scowling furiously at her, standing there holding a red-tipped knife while Collins lay at his feet still struggling to stand up.
She’d never been so glad to see him in all her life when he’d come up behind Collins and restrained him. Not that she’d felt in danger, just coming to the end of her womanly wiles—which she didn’t have many to start with—and wondering whether she was actually going to end up having to kiss the bastard.
Luckily Rush had been there like he’d promised, but then Collins’s confession had changed everything. He’d been the one who tipped her off, and now she didn’t want to turn and run like a coward. She wanted to see this through to the end. She wanted to confront the man who’d had her mother killed.
“What the fuck do you mean, no?” Rush demanded, anger glittering in his blue-green eyes. “You promised me you’d leave.”
Ava swallowed. “Yes. I did. And now I’m changing my mind.”
“Why? Because of what this asshole said?”
“Troy killed my mother, Rush.”
“Yeah, and? I mean, what the fuck do you think he’s going to do? Say sorry?” Rush leaned down, wiped his knife on Collins’s shirt, then slid it back into his boot. “Don’t be stupid, Ava. Confronting him isn’t going to change a fucking thing. Your mom is still dead.”
It was a harsh thing to say, and she felt it like a blow. “I know that, jackass. I just…” She stopped, knowing it was going to sound ridiculous, yet having to say it all the same. “I want to look into his eyes. I want to hear him confess it.”
But there was no softening in Rush’s hard, blunt features. “Then I’ll take a goddamn video for you. Now I want you to get back to the truck. We don’t have much time before someone realizes this bastard is missing and comes looking for him.”
He was right, and she knew it. Confronting Troy would change nothing. Her mother was still dead, and so was the man who’d actually killed her. Hearing Troy cop to it would only end up making her even angrier, since there was no legal way to punish him.
Looked like her quest for justice had finally come to an end.
Her throat tightened, a heavy weight sitting on her chest. So this was how it finished. With her knowing the truth while the man who’d had her mom killed got away scot-free.
It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t.
“Ava.” Rush took a step toward her. “I know this is tough, but you need to get the hell out—”
The door to the library abruptly opened, and Rush turned, putting himself in front of her.
A group of the hulking, black-suited men came in, with another man in their midst. Tall and silver-haired, he looked to be in his late sixties. He wore what was probably a horrifically expensive handmade suit and had a white Stetson tipped back from his forehead. He had a mustache and blue eyes and he was smiling as if Ava and Rush were old friends he’d just run into.
Rush had gone very still, tension drawn tight in every line of him.
But Ava didn’t need to see it to know who the man was.
It was Jimmy Troy.
Rage flared inside her, and she had to clench her hands into fists to stop herself from shoving Rush aside and strangling the bastard herself.
“Well, well,” Troy said conversationally, smiling. “What have we got here? I wanted to see who’s been crashing my party and apparently manhandling my employees. And whaddya know? It’s Rush Redmond. What a fucking surprise.”
“Can’t have been that much of a surprise.” Rush’s voice was light and full of his usual cocky arrogance. “Since you let me in here and all.”
“True enough.” The older man’s blue eyes glittered, his jovial smile an unsettling mask on the cold predator beneath it. “So, let’s get this over with. I know why you’re here.”
“Do you?” Rush tilted his head to the side. “Can I ask a question first? I mean, who did that fountain out front? ’Cause damn, it’s ugly. You probably should fire the decorator who suggested it, know what I’m saying?”
A hideous silence fell, and Ava’s rage dimmed, turning into concern. There was a hard edge to Rush’s words, that sharp, glittering quality she’d seen earlier when they’d first come in. He was furious, no doubt about it.
God, please don’t let him do something stupid, not now. Not here.
She took a step closer to him, wanting to calm him somehow, but the movement only drew Troy’s gaze, making it narrow down on her like a laser beam.
“Hello, darlin’,” he said softly. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with an asshole like this?”
Ava opened her mouth to reply, but Rush got in before her. “She’s nothing,” he said dismissively. “Just a stripper I hired for the night. Get out of here, Candy. This has got nothing to do with you.”
But Troy was shaking his head. “I don’t think so. She was seen leaving with Collins, who, by the way, is not looking so good.” He raised a hand and gestured. One of the suits moved over to where Collins was lying, bending over him.
“What can I say? She likes a guy in a suit. Last time I take her out. Too fucking expensive.” Rush threw her a contemptuous look over his shoulder. “Time to go, sugar. Go on, fuck off.”
“Oh, now, where’s your manners?” Troy took a couple of slow steps toward them. “Someone didn’t raise you right, son.”
Rush held his ground, the tension in his back becoming even more obvious, making her want to put her palm in the middle of it to calm him. “Yeah, Dad, I wonder who that could be? Anyway, this is all a fucking waste of time, so what’s say we get this shit out into the open?”
Troy looked puzzled for a second, then his expression cleared. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. You’ve been asking a lot of questions lately, haven’t you? Well, I can set you straight right now.” He smiled. “I’m not your father, Mr. Redmond.”
Every muscle in Ava’s body went tight, the air around them gathering, dense and thick.
“Seriously?” Rush still sounded highly amused. “Of course you are, you arrogant fuck. You were the bail-jumping scum who seduced my mother thirty-two years ago, and nine months later she had me.”
But Troy didn’t look offended. If anything he looked bored. “Is that what she told you?”
Rush laughed, the sound brittle in the close atmosphere of the room. “Yeah, asshole, that’s what she told me. As she was dying of cancer.”
Troy lifted a shoulder. “Sorry, son, but she was wrong.”
Ava’s breath caught. What the hell was going on here? Rush had seemed so certain of what he’d told her in the truck that she hadn’t for one moment considered that it might not actually be true.
“And how the fuck would you know if she was wr
ong or not?” A taut note had entered Rush’s voice.
“I don’t suppose you remember your old cellmate, do you?” Troy asked almost conversationally. “Andy Brown.”
“Andy? Why the fuck are you talking about him?”
“Oh, he works for me. And as luck would have it, because he was sharing the cell with you, he managed to get me some of your DNA.” Troy’s smile was almost apologetic. “Your questions were getting people talking, starting rumors and fucking with my business. So I had to do something about it. I mean, hell, I couldn’t take out my own son, right? Anyway, I got a paternity test done and got the results this morning. And whether you like it or not, the results are clear. You’re not my son.”
Oh God.
Ice water trickled down Ava’s spine. She glanced up at Rush, trying to see his face, but he was determinedly staring at the man in front of him. “My mother said that—”
“Your mother was misinformed.”
“You’re lying.” This time he sounded almost bewildered. “She was sure that I was your son.”
Impatience crossed Troy’s face. “I don’t care what she told you. Your father was a drunk and she was lonely. When she came on to me, I was more than happy to oblige.” He glanced down at his watch. “That’s all the time I have left for your questions, son. I have a party to attend to.”
She felt the moment he gathered himself, and she knew what he was going to do, could nearly see the violence in him spill over. She knew what it would mean, knew that it would end with one of those shadowy men pulling a trigger, and that couldn’t happen. So she reached out, put a hand on his shoulder, and said in a light, breathy, petulant-sounding voice, “Rush, can we go now? I want some more champagne.”
He ignored her. “Proof, you asshole. I want fucking proof.”
Troy sighed and put a hand into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He held it out to Rush, who just stared at it. Troy shrugged and let it drop to the ground. “There’s your proof, son. Now, how about you take yourself off? This here is a private party and you’re no longer invited.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Rush said, his voice so light and pleasant that Ava’s heart crawled up into her mouth.
The other man gave a short laugh. “No, you’re not. You’re a stupid asshole, and stupid assholes don’t get anywhere near me unless I let them. And I let you because I was curious. But since there’s nothing here to get excited about, our business is done.” He smiled yet again. “Now, normally when assholes waste my time, I teach them a lesson. But hey, this is a party, right? Plus blood spatter in here isn’t good for the books, and I can’t have that kind of shit. So I’m going to offer you a one-time deal: I’ll let you and your lovely piece of ass walk out of here alive.” His smile broadened. “For your mother’s sake, because I sure did have a soft spot for her.”
Rush said nothing, but she could feel the muscles of his back. They were rock hard.
“What? You don’t like that?” Troy was deceptively mild. “Better than the alternative. Certainly for your woman too.”
Ava wanted to tell him she didn’t give a crap, that this woman would quite happily go for her gun and blow his head off if given half the chance. But she didn’t have her gun. She had nothing but her stupid stripper skirt and the fact that if anything happened to her, the sheriff would level the place. Then again, there was no telling what Troy would do if she identified herself, and she didn’t want to take the risk. Which left taking this asshole’s deal and running with it their only option.
Anger burned inside her, but she kept it locked down, digging her fingers into Rush’s granite shoulder. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”
Rush didn’t move. He might as well have been a statue. Clearly the news that Troy wasn’t his father was a shock to him in some way, but wasn’t finding that out a good thing?
“Do as the lady says,” Troy suggested, still smiling. “Oh, and if I catch you screwing with my business again, I won’t be so understanding.” He looked around the room, smoothing down the jacket he wore. “All righty, then. I’d better get back to my guests.” He motioned to his guards. “Make sure they leave. With force if you have to.”
The men in suits closed in as Troy left the room, making Ava dig harder into Rush’s shoulder. “Rush. We need to go. Now.”
Still he didn’t move, like he’d been turned to stone.
Her heart began to slam against her chest, because the guards were not looking friendly and she didn’t like the idea of what “with force” might mean.
Curling her hand into his T-shirt, she rose on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “If we don’t get out of here right now, they’re going to kill you. So move your fucking ass.”
She didn’t know what did it in the end, whether it was that frantically whispered phrase or the pulling on his T-shirt. Or maybe it was her pushing him bodily toward the door. Whatever, he at last deigned to move, striding out the door of the library without a backward glance.
Ava had to trot to keep up with him, the guards keeping pace to make sure they left.
He didn’t look at her and, worse, he didn’t say anything. That frightened her. Because if there was one thing Rush Redmond always had, it was a comeback, a joke or a quip, or something just flat-out ridiculous. Now, though, he was silent. As if what had happened in that room had taken the power of speech from him.
She asked him if he was okay as they got in the truck, but he didn’t reply. He barely even waited for her to shut the door and put her seatbelt on before he took off down the driveway and past the ugly fountain in a spray of gravel.
Once they were out on the highway, she tried again, but he remained silent and stone-faced, his attention on the road ahead of him as if that was the most interesting thing in the entire universe.
She gave up after that, clasping her hands tightly in her lap and trying to ignore the silence that got heavier and heavier until it felt like she was on the bottom of the ocean with a thousand tons of water pressing down on her.
It got to her, that silence. It told her that Troy’s bombshell had hurt Rush in a way she didn’t understand, possibly even shattered him beyond repair. She kept sneaking glances at him, studying his profile for clues as to what was going on, yet it was like reading emotion in a stone. She got nothing, absolutely nothing.
He’d truly believed Troy was his father, she knew that, but why was hearing the opposite so very bad? Wasn’t it good that his father wasn’t an arms dealer after all? That Quinn and Zane were actually his brothers?
The questions spun around in her head, but given the wall of silence he kept between them, she knew that asking wasn’t going to get her any answers. All she could do was sit there, racking her brain for something to say and coming up with nothing.
The drive felt like it took forever, the silence becoming so heavy and tight she wanted to scream. But at last they pulled up outside her house, Rush leaving the motor running, his attention steadfastly out the front windshield. “You’re home,” he said curtly, his voice low and hoarse and almost unrecognizable. “Get out.”
She turned, studying the strong, uncompromising lines of his profile. The hard jaw, the set mouth, the lines of his scars that stood out, stark and white against his skin. He wanted her gone, that was obvious, but she didn’t want to go. Because what was also obvious was that his world had just caved in on him, and she hated the thought of leaving him to deal with it alone. She knew what that was like, and it wasn’t fun.
After all, who else did he have? Only her. And she was going to be there for him, whether he wanted her to be or not.
“No,” Ava said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 15
Rush stared at her, his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel, and he had to force himself to calm the fuck down, because he literally didn’t know what he would do if he let go of it.
He felt…Fuck. He didn’t know what he felt. There was a huge, blank space where his emotions shoul
d be, as if someone had stepped in and taken them all away because they were just too fucking much to deal with.
Shit, all of this was just too fucking much to deal with.
The moment Troy had held out that piece of paper something had broken inside him. He’d felt it, a crack right through the middle of himself, and he’d had no idea what to do. Nothing had prepared him for this, for the fact that he’d apparently believed a lie for the last eighteen years of his life.
Initially everything in him had rebelled against it, and he’d nearly laughed in Troy’s face, because it couldn’t be true. Why would his mother lie to him? Until, of course, the fucker had pulled out that piece of paper. Rush hadn’t needed to read it to understand what it said; he knew. It was a wrecking ball, smashing down the entire structure of the past eighteen years, leaving him with nothing but pieces.
He’d never asked his mother for proof all those years ago. He’d just taken her at her word. Because he’d been a kid. Because it had made so much sense. His father knew his mother had had an affair, knew that Rush wasn’t his son, and so had treated him accordingly.
And Rush had believed it because nothing else made sense. Nothing else explained why Joseph had never seemed to give a shit about him. Why there had been only silence and awkwardness between them. Why his father had paid more attention to Zane and to Quinn, and why he never seemed to even see his middle son at all.
Because what was the alternative? That there was no reason for his father’s attitude toward him? That his father didn’t care about him because there was nothing in Rush for him to care about?
No, he hadn’t been able to deal with that. The lie was easier, the lie was safer.
Not to mention giving you a cast-iron excuse to be a prick. Now the only thing you can blame on your old man is drinking. The rest of the badness is all you.
Maybe that was why Joe had always hated him. He’d seen that badness in his son right from the get-go, despite how Rush had fought to overcome it. Despite the bridges Rush had tried to build, trying to show the old man that biology didn’t matter. That he was his son in spite of everything, going into the army like his father wanted, then coming back to join the family business. Even going away for eight years to show his Redmond loyalty.
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