The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

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The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide Page 40

by Nina Bruhns


  As shocked as he was by her appearance, he couldn’t tamp down his anger and frustration.

  He started toward her.

  “Jesse, Jesus God, are you okay? First, baby, you hung up on me. You can’t do that. Do you understand? We don’t do that to one another. That’s not who we are. It’s not the kind of relationship we have. Promise me that you won’t do that again.”

  When he reached out for her, she held up her hands.

  “No, Dameon. Please. Don’t touch me. I asked you to leave me alone. Please, please go. I can’t talk to you.”

  “Jesse, for God’s sake. I have been frantic worrying about you and--” It hit him then. It must have something to do with Trey. “What is it, honey? Is it Trey?”

  She gave him an empty stare. “Garrett has filed for full custody of Trey. I… I’m preparing for a court case. I need to prepare--”

  “Jesse, honey, I can help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “Yes, Dameon, you can help me. You can give me space.” When he advanced on her, she backed away, a wild look in her eyes.

  “No, Dameon! Listen to me. I need you to listen to me and to hear me. I need to do this my way. On my own. Trey is my son. Please understand. The way that you can help me is to respect my request. I have to work through this… through what is happening, in my own way.”

  Dameon saw her falter, tremble. He forced himself to keep his distance. Even if she hadn’t been as pale as she was, he could see that she was riding a thin rail between despair and determination. He put his hands up to give her the room she requested.

  “I’m listening, honey. I hear you. But Jesse, will you listen to me? Give me a chance to talk?”

  She shook her head fiercely. “No, I won’t. I can’t. Please understand that this is the only way I know how to get through issues like this. I need to concentrate on keeping my son.”

  Her voice rose, it was almost a plaintive cry. He saw her pain and her determination. He’d never seen her more vulnerable or fragile. It made her determination an unlikely and challenging addition. He could see there was no use arguing with her. She was deeply troubled and he knew instinctively that this was how she handled crises. He’d seen it in the past. Hell, her father had warned him. And Jesse herself had told him that she never asked for help. Now in this most difficult challenge, she believed that she and she alone could handle it. Even though he profoundly disagreed, he held up his hands in assent.

  “Jesse, I will do anything you ask me to do. But please understand. I can help you. I know I can. You need someone to talk to… to work things through. Please let me….”

  She closed her eyes signifying that she was done. Done listening and done hearing.

  “Dameon, the best way that you can help me is to respect my request. I need to do this on my own. In my own way. That’s what I need, what I have to have. Please, will you do that? I’m asking you, begging you.”

  Forcing himself not to go to her, Dameon nodded.

  “Jesse, you are asking me to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I long to put my arms around you. To hold you. To let you know that you are not alone.”

  Seeing her waver, he inched toward her, knowing that if he could hold her, even for a moment, he had a fighting chance of convincing her that he could help.

  Confirming how tightly she was wound, she jumped back, bumping up against the counter. Her eyes flared. The wildness he saw earlier intensified.

  “No! Dameon. Please, don’t. Go, go now.”

  Dameon pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly. Not allowing her to look away, he held her gaze.

  “I will leave, Jesse, reluctantly. I’m leaving because you are asking me to. But you need to understand something: I am here for you and I’m not going anywhere. I care deeply about you. I will do anything I can to help you and Trey. You are an incredible mother. And no one is going to take your son away from you.”

  Red Rock Rises: Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Goddammit, Eric. What’s going on? “

  “She told you?”

  “No, dammit, unless you mean by telling me she told me that she can’t talk to me and that she wants me to leave her alone.”

  Eric’s sigh was pained. Without seeing him, Dameon knew him well enough to pick up on his frustration.

  “Much as I hate to say this, buddy, at this point I think that’s your only choice.”

  “Jesus, Eric, you can’t be serious. What the hell did that fucking Chambers do to scare her like this?”

  “Hmm, bro. You’re as smart as you ever were, even when it involves Jesse. Not many people would pick up on the fact that beneath all that bluster is fear. I hate like hell to tell you, but I can’t discuss it with you. I’m on a very short leash. If I so much as breathe a word about the case to anyone but her and Garrett’s lawyers, I’m done. Out the door. And then she’s really on her own. That is the choice our little Major gave me. Her way or resign.”

  “Surely, Eric, you can tell me what was in the subpoena?”

  “No, Dameon, I can’t. She’s put a gag order on me. Everything between us is attorney client privilege. She insists she will boot me if I disclose anything. And I gotta tell you, I believe her. Let’s give her a couple of days at least, Dameon. She’s in shock right now. I hope that I can convince her to open up, but at this point that’s not an option.”

  When he got home, Dameon sent Jesse a long text message telling her how much he cared for her and that he was here to help her in any way possible. Once again, he affirmed that she was not alone. The next two days he sent her a message every three hours. Some were funny, most simply said, "I’m here." The following day, he was tied up throughout the day dealing with a major drug bust that turned out to include a cargo van crammed with young girls on their way to parts unknown. When he finally looked at his phone, his heavy heart knew before he looked that Jesse hadn’t called.

  There wasn’t a practice scheduled, which meant that he couldn’t talk to Trey. Dameon had now left several messages asking why Trey’d missed practice and asking if he could help. As the silence from both Trey and Jesse persisted, Dameon’s unease rose. Clearly there was more going on than he’d realized. The blackout from Jesse, Trey, and even Eric, had his frustration flaring. When he’d worn a groove in his office carpet trying to decide on next steps, Angela rang.

  “Chief, there’s a young man here to see you. It’s the Chambers boy. Shall I send him in?”

  “Please.”

  Dameon met Trey at the door. Seeing the expression on Trey’s face, his relief switched back to concern.

  “Come in, Trey. I have to tell you, son, I’m glad to see you. I’ve been worried about you. Here, sit down, Trey. I need to know what’s going on. First, why haven’t you called me back? I’ve left you six messages. You need to remember, Trey, you’re on probation. It’s essential that you follow the rules of your probation or you are in violation, which is a serious issue. One of the rules is that you go to practice. If you can’t, you need to let me or one of the coaches know….”

  Dameon stopped in mid-sentence seeing the tears welling up in Trey’s eyes. He moved from behind his desk and pulled up a chair next to the trembling boy.

  “What’s going on, Trey? Talk to me, son. Whatever it is, I can help you.”

  Trey started to speak but shook his head when the words wouldn’t come. He buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Dameon went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. He put it on the conference table.

  “Come here, Trey. Let’s sit over here. You look like you need someone to sit close to you. And I can tell you, I am that guy.”

  Trey choked on a sob and then began to cry. The deep gulping sounds tore at Dameon’s heart. Dameon put his arm around him and stroked his back. It took a good five minutes for Dameon to get the shattered boy settled down to where he was able to control his sobs. When Trey lifted his tear-streaked face, Dameon’s heart clenched. Trey looked so damn much like Jes
se, Dameon had to fight against the lump in his throat.

  “Tell me, Trey. Tell me what you’re trying to say.”

  “I… I… couldn’t call you. I didn’t know you called. My… my dad took my phone. I can’t have it any more.”

  An angry fireball hit Dameon in the gut. With a huge effort, he spoke calmly, encouraging Trey to talk.

  “Why did he take your phone?”

  “My dad thought I’d try to call my mom. He warned me if I did, he’d take it away. I did try to call her but she didn’t answer. I… I didn’t know my dad was monitoring my calls.”

  “When he found out you’d tried to contact your mom, he took your phone?”

  Trey nodded and took a gulp of water. Clearing his throat he hesitated then gave Dameon an imploring look.

  “Coach, I’m scared.”

  “Why, son?”

  “My dad said I can’t see Mom or talk to her. He… he said they’re going to court on Monday and…”

  Dameon tried to hide his shock. Monday? Holy Christ. They were going to court in three days? Three fucking days from today? That wasn’t possible. He didn’t know who he was angrier with, Garrett or his so-called buddy Eric. Knowing that Eric wouldn’t live to see the dawn helped him keep a temporary rein on his fury.

  Turning to Trey, Dameon managed to speak calmly “Go ahead, Trey. Tell me the rest. I can help.”

  “Coach, Dad said I am in his custody now and that he can make the rules and that I have to follow them. He said I can’t see my mom or talk to her until after the court date.”

  Trey’s voice broke and he finished with a rush, “And, Coach, my dad says he’s sure that the judge is going to say that I need to live with him full time…” His voice rose to a wail. “But I don’t want to! I want to be with my mom!”

  It took Dameon several minutes to get the young man to stop crying. He was so enraged it was a challenge to comfort Trey. All he wanted to do was leap in his truck and head over to the hospital. If Dameon had his way, Dr. Garrett Chambers wouldn’t be doing plastic surgery for the next few weeks. He’d be too busy trying to figure out how to rearrange his own face. With a supreme effort, Dameon focused on Trey.

  “Okay, son. I’m not surprised that you are upset. Hell, I’m upset listening to you. But here’s how it’s going to be. Your father is able to set the rules when you are in his custody. If he says you can’t see or talk to your mom, he can do that. The only way your mom or I can fix that is in court. So going to court on Monday is a good thing, Trey. We’ll be able to tell the judge what is happening and she will listen. I’m going to go out on a limb and make you a promise. When we’re done with the court on Monday, you will be seeing your mother. Do you hear me?”

  When Trey nodded, Dameon continued.

  “Did your father tell you that you couldn’t come to basketball practice?”

  Trey nodded and ducked his head. “He said I couldn’t because you would be there.”

  “I see. Well, son, he doesn’t have the right to do that. I’ll talk with Marsha Vargas, your probation counselor. She will arrange for you to come to practice.”

  Seeing the boy relax for the first time, Dameon stood up.

  “Come here, Trey. Sometimes as we get older, we think that we don’t need hugs. But we do. Not only do you need a hug, but I need one too.”

  Dameon held the boy firmly for a long moment and then walked him to the door, his arm draped paternally around his shoulders.

  “If you hurry, you can catch the #4 bus and be at your dad’s within the hour. You don’t need to tell your dad you came here unless you want to. That’s your choice. But before you go, you need to hear me. Remember: after court session on Monday, you will be seeing and talking to your mother. You know how much she is missing you, don’t you?”

  Trey swallowed hard and his eyes filled again with tears.

  “Okay, just remember, come Monday, you and your mom will be together again. You got that, Trey? You’ve got my word on it. And son, if you know nothing else about me, know that when I give my word, I don’t break it--ever.”

  * * *

  Dameon barked into his cell phone. “Where the fuck are you?”

  Eric paused. “Uh… in my office?”

  “Stay there. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

  Seventeen minutes later Dameon strode by the surprised receptionist and barged into Eric’s office, slamming the door behind him.

  “Okay, Eric, what’s going on? None of this makes sense. I’m going to tell you this and you better hear me. I’m in love with her, Eric, and I haven’t even fucked her yet. I haven’t thought about anything or anyone since I met her. She’s so far under my skin you’d need a bone scan to see it. And, buddy, I just spent 30 minutes with Trey Chambers crying in my arms, terrified that after his parents go to court on Monday, three fucking days from today he will never see his mother again.”

  Dameon planted his hands on the corner of the conference table and glared at his friend.

  “Now Eric, for the second and last time that I will ask you; what the God dammed fuck is going on?”

  Eric hesitated then nodded. “Thank you, Dameon. If you hadn’t called, I was going to call you.” He pointed to the chair across from him. “Sit down, friend. This is going to be an off-the-record conversation. There are some things I still can’t tell you but I’ll tell you as much as I can.”

  Dameon hesitated, seething with anger. He took a deep audible breath then sat down across from Eric and flicked his hand.

  “Talk.”

  Eric raised a brow at the command and shrugged.

  “First, as I told that hard-headed woman of yours, in twenty years I’ve never seen a subpoena like the one Jesse received. The Lawson and Schemer firm is out of D.C., okay? Dameon, they are the most vicious, hard-assed lawyers you’ll meet. As I told Jesse, they are scorched earth vultures. They don’t take prisoners. And Garrett and his daddy hired twelve of them to take Jesse down.”

  Eric stood and went to his liquor cabinet. Dragging two glasses and a bottle of Jameson off the shelf, he poured a healthy portion of the libation in each glass and handed one to Dameon. “Trust me, you’re going to need this.”

  Sinking back in his chair Eric took a long swallow and shook his head.

  “I gotta tell you, bro. I love Jesse but she is one mixed up babe. I’ve never had a more difficult client. That determination, that drive is what sets her apart. Her self-sufficiency has saved her life repeatedly. But the hard lesson, she learned too well and burned into her soul, is that when the chips are down she can’t trust anyone but herself. She’s convinced that the only way she will get through this is if she handles it solo. She’ll barely let me help her. She’s sewed me into a straitjacket and fuck it, I’m the only thing that stands between her and her losing Trey.”

  Eric threw Dameon a beseeching look.

  “I’m really struggling with her, Dameon. And now this last expedited order has doubled the danger. Are you ready for this, bro? Garrett has told the court Trey is in physical peril if he is with his mother. And the court is listening closely enough to expedite the hearing and not let Trey see Jesse until after. I should add that in addition to the subpoena, Jesse received a restraining order from the court ordering her not to see or speak to Trey until after the hearing.”

  Dameon shuddered then took a swallow of the whisky and faced Eric.

  “Which judge will hear the case?”

  “I managed to get it before Sylvia Thompson. She’s a tough judge, but fair. She always comes down on the side of the kid. That was the best news I’ve had in this fucked up mess.”

  Relieved, Dameon nodded. He knew Judge Thompson well. He’d worked with her often. They’d get a fair hearing.

  Putting down his glass, he met Eric’s gaze. “Goddammit, Eric, Let. Me. Help. You.”

  Eric sighed and reached for the bottle to refill his glass.

  “For better or worse, man, not only are you not helping, you are part of the problem.”


  Dameon reared up. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

  “They’re going to use you, Dameon. They’re going to use the fact that you arrested her against her. They’re going to use the fact that Trey was arrested and you have him in a tough probationary program. They’re going to get you to tell them she keeps a shitload of guns in the house with a 15-year-old boy. And finally they’re going to use the fact that her primary client is a man that the APD is convinced is part of the Mexican Mafia.”

  Eric lifted his glass to Dameon and added with a sigh, “And then they’re going to go into all that went on in the Army.”

  “What went on in the Army?”

  “You know this, Dameon. She was special ops, undercover. According to the Army, on most of her missions she was never there. The missions didn’t happen, they were off the books.”

  Eric went to his desk and picked up a thick file. He tossed it on the table with a thump, then sunk back down into his chair. He pressed his fingertips between his eyebrows and exhaled deeply.

  “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, these arrived about an hour ago. That's why I was gonna call you. Those conniving well-placed sons of bitches at Lawson and Schemer have come up with pictures of her. Let me tell you--as if you don't know—Jesse is one hot babe. Especially dressed the way she is in these photos. They’ve blanked out the faces and uniforms of the others so it looks like she is with a group of men enjoying what she is doing. Forget that these photos are as classified as the missions. It doesn’t matter. They exist. And Martin Lawson is going to use them. Before you ask, yes, we could get them declassified but Jesse refuses. I’ve already talked to her. Plus we’d have to convince the judge to delay the hearing. And you know that the Army could take months if not years to declassify what she did.”

  Eric opened the folder and passed it to Dameon.

  “Jesse hasn’t seen these yet, so technically I haven’t been told that I can’t show them to you.”

 

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