Sweetheart. No. Please. If they don’t stop with the irresistible endearments, I’m going to totally lose it. The lump swelled in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest ached—crap, was she about to have a heart attack? “I-I...”
Keefer’s warm fingers massaged her cheek. “In the end, you’d never’ve sold those pictures, and you won’t put Jager or any of his clients in this position, either. Will you, Anj? You’ve been bluffing all along, even with yourself, even the first time in Hawaii. But why?”
There it was, the truth that even she could never admit to herself, much less to Jager or anyone else involved. The stress of it lifted off her chest, as if a magical fairy had waved its wand and made the ton of weight disappear. Poof! Just like that.
But in its place came a flood of relief that proved almost as problematic. Her shoulders shuddered, she sobbed uncontrollably, then she plopped herself across both laps in a huddled ball of hysteria.
“Shh, shhh.”
She didn’t know whose voice it was, or whose hands were where as they petted her and soothed her. All she knew was that this was where she wanted to be, in their arms with them protecting her and keeping her safe from the world—from her stupid self.
“Darling, what is it? Please, just tell us both what’s going on.” Jager, that one was Jager.
“Maybe we can help you? Maybe, if you’d just explain it all to us, we just might all be able to find a solution so we can get on with our love for each other and live a happy life together.”
Keefer. Of course he’d be the one to have the hippy, kumbaya, irie attitude, God bless his big heart.
She lay there for several peaceful moments while they played with her hair, kissed her brow and fingertips, rubbed her back and ass. They were both devoted to her, to making her feel better and calming her down. The rush of love washed over her before she could take a mental leap out of striking distance.
Wow. She loved them? Both?
She closed her eyes and thought of her history with Keefer and her more recent time with Jager. It seemed she couldn’t have one without the other. No matter her current dire situation, she needed them both. She couldn’t face what loomed ahead—prison, parole, whatever—without both of them.
She loved Keefer, and she loved Jager.
She’d never loved a single man in her entire life, and now she loved two at once?
The laughter burst from her like some manic old woman locked in an insane asylum. She untangled herself from their laps, stumbled to the window and looked down on her neighborhood between the iron security bars. Everything about the view was crap, as usual. Only it didn’t look or feel like crap anymore. Her sight seemed clearer, even from behind bars, and her heart wasn’t quite so jaded.
Not only could she see that her future was destined to be with these two wonderful men, but she could envision the solution to her problem so clearly now.
Yes, I love Mom, but I have to think solely of Ali, and then everything else will fall into its rightful place.
She wiped her eyes and spun to face them. “This is just absolutely nuts—I’m nuts. I should have told you both the truth way before now. It sure would’ve solved a lot of problems. But, well, I’m going to fix that idiotic mistake right now...”
~*~*~*~
If it was at all possible for the devilish little Anjelee to look angelic standing in front of that window with the sunlight swathing her in an ethereal radiance, it was happening now. The light surrounded her head in a rich ash and purple flow of glittering streaks. Her eyes were pink-rimmed from crying, but the stunning green circles of heartfelt emotion and relief sparkled, leaving Jager breathless. Her curves were soft and muted by a golden outline. His gaze moved back to her eyes. A lone tear trailed down her cheek and settled on her jaw.
He loved this woman. God, how he loved her. He loved Keefer, even, and he loved the unique bond that the three of them had formed. And he’d be damned if he’d do anything to fuck that up. Including seeing her in prison.
Jager rose and approached her. He held her face in the palm of one hand and brushed the tear away with his thumb. “What is it, baby? What mistakes? What truths?”
She eased herself into his arms. Her body trembled. He heard her sniffle as she held out one hand. “Keefer, please, I need you, too.”
Keefer was there in a second, and wound his warm, powerful arms around them both. Anjelee sighed and burrowed deep within the protection of strong muscles and firm chests. Awe filled Jager’s soul. The two of them embraced Jager, and Jager encircled them with his arms, too, while Anjelee clung to the two men who cared deeply for her. Hell, yes. This was it, this was his life. It couldn’t be any other way. He wouldn’t allow it. He would do whatever he had to do, to strengthen this amazing relationship and keep the three of them together.
“I-I don’t know where to start. Huh.” She snorted and untangled herself from their embrace. She folded her arms and perched her ass on the windowsill. “Probably the beginning would be best, ya think?”
“Probably true,” Keefer said gently before he swiped a stray hair from her cheek.
Jager dragged a kiss over her lips. “Take your time, sweetheart.”
She forced a small smile, but held back the glitter of tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “Okay. Well. It really started back around thirteen years or so ago, but I’ll get to that in a minute. The thing that dredged up those years in the past was my little sister, Ali, getting sick.”
“You mean the kidney infections,” Keefer said with a nod.
“Yes and no. It started off that way, but she’s since progressed to chronic kidney disease.” Anjelee slid down the windowsill and sat on the floor. She peered up at them and the tears fell, pearl after pearl of sadness and relief. “It was the tens of thousands of dollars worth of bills racked up from the initial kidney stones, hospitalizations, infections and blood work the doctors kept drawing, that motivated me to take the photography job. I went to Kabana, Hawaii, to help pay off those bills. But the job itself didn’t pay enough. I...I-I lost my way with that first bribery, I admit, and I’m so sorry. But you’ve got to understand it was out of love and desperation and worry for my sister’s life, and for Mom, who’d already lost everything she owned to pay for Ali’s treatments.”
Jager kneeled on the floor and took her hand. “Anj, all you had to do was tell me. We could have worked something out.”
“And me, too.” Keefer squatted on his haunches and took her other hand. He kissed her palm. “I was right there. I knew Ali was sick. You just didn’t tell me how sick. Speak up—it was all you had to do.”
“No...no, it’s not that easy. She went into chronic renal failure, needed dialysis at least three times a week. She’s starting to show pre-cancerous cells. Her left one is the bad one.” She covered her face and sobbed. “Holy God above, she’s going to die if we don’t find her a kidney.”
Keefer leaped to his feet. He looked down on Anjelee. “Damn it, why didn’t you tell me? I don’t need two kidneys. She can have one of mine.”
“Me, too,” Jager said. He stood and pulled her to a standing position. “C’mon. Let’s get to the hospital, the doctor, wherever we need to be to get this handled.”
More moisture pooled in her eyes, and it caused something to swell inside Jager’s heart.
“Y-you can’t just go hand over a kidney. You have to be tested to see if you’re a match. There’re different blood types or presence of antibodies that could attack the kidney or the system of the receiver, so it’s a really delicate, technical process in finding a match. Blood relatives are the highest probable matches, statistically. But Mom and I aren’t matches. And we have no other family...at least I didn’t think we did at first.” She held up a finger. “Let me amend that since I’m being all totally honest and stuff. Mom knew of Ali’s father, which is that big secret I’ve been eluding to.”
“Ah, The Big-ass Secret,” Keefer said with a faint chuckle.
“The one you swor
e to your mom that you wouldn’t tell anyone?”
Anjelee pressed a hand to her belly. “Yes, that one. Aw, crap, I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Sit down,” Jager suggested. He guided her to the sofa, pushed until she sat down. “Take a big breath. Just let it out.”
She bit her lip. “Uh, I think it’s you who should sit down.”
Jager raised a brow. “Huh?”
“Just do it, dude.” Keefer planted his hands on Jager’s chest and pushed him until the backs of his knees hit the couch.
Jager plopped down in obedience next to Anjelee. “Okay. I don’t understand, but I’m ready.”
Anjelee switched around and took a spot on the coffee table facing Jager. Keefer stood behind her and massaged her shoulders. She inhaled, blew it out. “Mom and I lived in Kansas like thirteen, fourteen years ago. She was a single mom, raising me, brat that I was.” She gave a sheepish grin that made Jager’s pulse skip. He could just imagine her as a teenaged hell-raiser.
“Anyway, she met a local man, fell in love, got pregnant. That was my kid sister, Ali. She was such a fun baby. She brought Mom and I so much joy. But her father...he wouldn’t claim her. Mom told him about her good news, he told her to fuck off because—now, wait for it—he was married. Haha, surprise, surprise. Men are such asses.”
“Hey, not all of us.” Jager rubbed her leg.
“That remains to be seen.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and it felt so good to see the bubbliness of her humor returning.
“So, he didn’t want a thing to do with Mom or his baby,” she went on, wobbling her head, “yada, fada, nada. Yeah, old story, new day, he wanted to stay with his wife and their son. ‘This affair was all a huge mistake,’ he told Mom.”
“What a bastard,” Jager said.
“That son of a bitch,” Keefer agreed, and he gave Anjelee a few extra shoulder squeezes.
Jager lounged into the couch and crossed an ankle over a knee. She looked so vulnerable from where Jager sat, with Keefer looming behind her. “All right, well, I’m following you so far, but I still don’t see what this all has to do with...you know, your second...bribery.”
She waved a hand in his face. “Hold your ponies, I’m not done yet.”
Jager couldn’t help but laugh. “Excuse me.”
“Shh. Now here’s the kicker. Mom had tried to contact this man when the bills started piling up—that was before I went to Hawaii and shot Wulfrum’s wedding. Of course, she didn’t hear a word from the asshole. But after I returned, Mom got a letter. Yep, it was from Ali’s father’s wife. It said her husband had passed away, and she even enclosed an obituary clipping from the newspaper.”
“Whoa.”
“Whoa’s right. Mom was a nut case. In spite of him turning his back on her and Ali, she still loved him. She was devastated to hear of his passing. But there’s still more...”
Jager slapped his forehead. “Damn, this is like watching a thriller when they cut to a commercial. Would you get to the point?”
Her gaze held his for a long moment. She gripped Keefer’s hand on her shoulder and reached for Jager’s. Her hand felt small and clammy in his. He cupped it with both of his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Jager said, “I didn’t mean to sound so...impatient. It’s just...”
“I know, I know.” She gave his hand a reassuring pinch. “I understand.”
She took a deep breath and guided Keefer around so he sat on the sofa next to Jager. The triangle, the position, it all seemed so right to Jager: The two men, side-by-side, facing their woman, focusing on just her.
“All right, so let me get back to that kicker.” She planted both hands behind her and propped herself on the coffee table, her small breasts thrusting upward.
“So the only other person who could have been a possible kidney donor had keeled over. Only Mom confessed something to me when I got back from Hawaii...”
By now, Jager knew he’d get the answer if he didn’t respond. He heard a clock tick somewhere, though he didn’t see one anywhere in her apartment. It seemed seconds dragged into minutes before she finally dropped the bomb.
“Come to find out, Mom’s lover had been Mitch Wulfrum’s father—Wulfrum being Mitch’s stage name, not his real Kansas name. So ‘Mitch Wulfrum’ and my sister, Ali, are half bro and sis. And that is why I got so desperate and sent that second email before running off to Karibu with Keefer. Because Mom demanded—no, swore—she’d never speak to me again if I approached Mitch to ask for any inheritance he might have received from his dad. Actually, it could kinda be seen as rightful child support Ali’s father should have been paying all those years. So see, it might be a bit convoluted, but I was trying to get Mitch’s father’s money via Mitch without risking leaking the whole saga to the media, which is what Mom didn’t want. And definitely what Wulfrum didn’t want.”
Jager stared wide-eyed. He was speechless. Mitch’s father did pass away shortly after Mitch’s wedding.
“You don’t believe me?” Anjelee asked, her tone high with offense.
“No, I-I didn’t say that I...”
She bent down, reached between her legs and located a photo album on the bottom shelf of the coffee table. Her hands shook as she flipped through the pages. She stopped on one, spun the book around and tapped a yellowed picture beneath the page’s stiff, clear cellophane page. “See this couple all wrapped up in each other? That’s my mom. That was when we lived in Kansas—and so did Mitch and his family. That man?” She clicked a nail on none other than a younger version of the man Jager had known...Mitch’s dad. “He’s Mitch’s father. I was still in high school. I took that snapshot with my Journalism camera.”
Jager swallowed. When he could finally croak out a response, it was just, “Well, I’ll be a motherfucker.”
Chapter Ten
“Damn it,” Mitch growled, shifting his stance and thrusting a hand through his sun-streaked hair. “What the hell’s going on here? You’ve blackmailed me once, then a second time, threatening to tear my career and my world apart. Now you’ve dragged me here to an L.A. hospital—and I don’t even know you people. What did I ever do to deserve this?”
“Anj.” Jager said it with harshness only to get her attention when she flinched as if ready to attack Mitch. The bomb was about to drop, and he knew she had it in her to make it a whopper, but she wouldn’t do it the crass way this time. He knew now he’d been looking at the Anjelee Montrose picture through the wrong lens all along. She was smart and cunning, but deep down, she wasn’t heartless as he’d originally thought. He could see it in the love and affection that poured from her eyes when she looked at her mother, Vivien, and he’d felt it firsthand in her arms in Karibu. This bomb was going to be an explosive one for Mitch, yet Jager was even more certain it was going to clear the path to everyone’s happiness and unveil a vulnerable Anjelee that would send him reeling all over again.
Anjelee jerked her head around and snapped, “What?”
They all stood in front of the tall windows in a private conference room they’d set up through hospital security. Jager stepped over and set his hand on Anjelee’s fragile spine. She wore an off-the-shoulder, silky little orange shirt and low-slung, faded jeans, her skin cool to the touch, her compact body trembling like a frightened little puppy beneath his touch.
“It’ll be okay, babe. Just say it. Get it over with. Mitch can’t go on this way any longer. Hell, we all can’t go on like this anymore.”
“Easy for you to say,” Mitch grumbled. Then he paused and blinked. “And what the hell’s this ‘babe’ stuff?”
Anjelee and Jager both ignored his question. It was rare to see her practically speechless. Jager would’ve chuckled over that at any other time. Not now. There was nothing funny in the tension that crackled in the air.
Jager stifled the impulse and instead said, “I have a feeling, Mitch, you’ll change your tune very soon. Now, Anj, out with it.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “F-first, I wa
nt you to have these.” She reached over and patted her laptop where it sat on the conference table, along with an external computer storage drive and a piece of paper. “All of the...private photos I took of you, your wife, and Kol, are stored on either this computer, or on this jump drive. Plus, the login to the email account I used to send copies to myself is written down here. You can either change the password, or delete the account yourself just so you know it’s done. I promise you, this is where it ends. I’m very sorry for any pain, aggravation or funds I’ve caused you. B-but, I-I want you to know I did everything out of love for my family. I didn’t mean t-to hurt anyone. Really, I didn’t. But you see, Mom had a—”
Vivien Montrose reached for her daughter’s hand. “Honey, it’s okay. I’ll tell him everything. You just relax.”
“Y-you sure?”
Lines deepened around Vivien’s tired green eyes. They lacked Anjelee’s youth, but they were nearly identical. “Very sure.”
Mitch shifted his stance. His body language spoke tension, but he remained silent.
Anjelee held Jager’s gaze, then moved to lock with Keefer’s tender stare. Her eyes filled up like rain puddled on brilliant summer leaves. Her bottom lip quivered, the new ring piercing near the corner of her mouth glinting by the sunrays pouring in through the slats of the conference room blinds. She swallowed audibly. Her little Adam’s apple rose and fell along that small neck he’d once longed to choke. But not anymore. Now he had an almost unbearable urge to take her in his arms and kiss every inch of her neck, her delicate shoulders, her firm belly.
Vivien smiled with melancholy and brushed her hand along Anjelee’s jaw. She glanced toward Mitch. “You know, she was such a good girl. Really, she was. Smart, studious and introverted, and even though she had this wholesome beauty that should have been the camera’s focus, she loved to be behind her camera, taking pictures of sunsets and butterflies. And me.”
“Momma…”
Vivien held a finger to Anj’s lips. “Shh, sweetie. Remember, this is my tale.”
Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) Page 13
