Hell in a Handbasket

by Denise Grover Swank

  We need to talk. Can you meet me at the Sinclair at noon?

  My heart skipped a beat. What did he want to talk about? Was this about Marshall or about us? Maybe he’d decided to end things before I could give him an answer. Maybe the whole situation had begun to seem like too much of a gamble.

  “Rose,” Neely Kate said in an insistent tone. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sorry. I got distracted. Call me if you find something. Maybe we can meet Charlene after you wrap things up there.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Be safe.”

  “Yeah. You too.”

  I checked the time and saw it was eleven thirty. If James had decided to end it, I’d rather know now than spend the rest of the day in suspense. I texted him: Okay.

  I could see the bubble telling me he was typing. After several long seconds, he sent: See you then.

  Considering how long it had taken him to send those three words, I knew he’d originally planned to say something else, but Lord only knew what. I found myself pressing the back button so I could look at the list of my texts. Mason’s name sat there like a bomb waiting to go off. No matter what happened with James, I felt like I had to put this business with Mason to rest. If nothing else, I needed closure—my talk with Maeve had shown me that.

  I also needed to understand how much of James’ appeal came down to how different he was from Mason, who’d always seemed so safe, solid, and reliable. Turned out he’d been none of those things, but in fairness to him, he’d expected me to be a much sweeter, more innocent version of myself. James represented everything Mason was not—dark, wild, and ruthless.

  I pulled up my conversation with Mason and, before I could think on it too hard, typed, Okay. I’ll meet you.

  Since my food intake for the day had been limited to coffee and a protein bar I’d found in my desk drawer, I was starving. I swung by a sandwich shop so I could eat while I drove.

  I might not feel like eating after my conversation with James.

  I pulled behind the abandoned gas station five minutes early and drove back farther than usual so I could park in the shade. After lowering the tailgate, I sat on the edge, then took a deep breath and drew out my phone. Mason had already responded, and the time stamp indicated he’d done so immediately.

  Dinner at Jaspers?

  My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure I could handle dinner with him. It was too much like a date, and besides, I was pretty much guaranteed a date with Kip Wagner around ten p.m. How about coffee instead?

  He seemed to hesitate before responding. I can come out to the farm if you’d like.

  Then a few seconds later, he sent: And pick up my box.

  The absolute last place I wanted to meet him was at the farm—Marshall, Jed, and Witt aside. There were too many memories of him there that I’d spent months trying to purge. How about in my office?

  His response was much quicker this time: Whatever makes you comfortable. I can’t get away before four. I can text you.

  I stared at his message before I sent: I have appointments out of the office this afternoon. Try to give me at least fifteen to twenty minutes’ notice.

  Okay.

  I stared at the phone, trying to decide how I felt about seeing him again.

  Anxious. Apprehensive.

  Nevertheless, it still seemed like a good idea. I couldn’t seriously think about starting a new relationship before reassuring myself the last one was good and dead.

  I heard an approaching car engine, then saw James’ black sedan drive around the corner. My breath stuck in my chest as James got out, keeping his gaze on me until he stood directly in front of me.

  The dark look in his eyes pulled at something deep in my core, and I stopped myself from sucking in a breath to clear my head. Part of me didn’t want to clear my head. I liked this feeling of standing on a precipice with him.

  I found myself asking that same question again. Were my feelings for James real, or did I want him because he was the exact opposite of Mason Deveraux?

  Still, as I stared up into James’ face, practically sitting on my hands to keep from touching him, I knew that no easy explanation encompassed this man or my feelings for him. James knew my flaws as well as my strengths, and yet he wanted me anyway. No, it was more than that—he considered some of my flaws to be strengths. He was the first man who’d seen my full potential and encouraged me to live up to it. If I were honest with myself, that’s how I felt about him too. I saw his flaws, yet I also saw the better man hiding underneath them all, the one he didn’t show the world.

  Was it enough?

  He spoke first, his voice husky. “You’re makin’ it damn hard for me to focus on why I asked you here.”

  Reveling in the knowledge that I could distract him, I said just as huskily, “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

  “Does that mean you have an answer to my proposal?”

  His question was like being doused by a bucket of cold water. I glanced down, feeling slightly ashamed.

  “So it’s a no?” he asked in a much colder tone.

  “No, it’s not a no, but it’s not a yes either.” I stared back up at him, my eyes pleading with him to understand.

  He moved closer, his face softening. He reached up and cupped my cheek, his fingers sliding deeper into my hair, then curling around the strands.

  A white-hot heat flared up inside me, and I sucked in a breath of surprise and need. One touch had me wanting to sleep with him right here on my truck bed in broad daylight. “I’m scared of this.”

  “Of what?” he asked, his voice so low his chest rumbled. His hand loosened its hold on my hair, but only so it could slide behind my head and wrap around more strands. Pulling a little tighter this time, he held my face upturned. “Us?”

  “You make me forget myself. You make me into someone else. Someone more wanton.”

  He grinned at that, but it was more of a predatory grin than amused. “Wanton?”

  I tried to look down again out of embarrassment, but his grip on my hair tightened, holding me in place as the playfulness faded. “Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are with me. I love you wanton.”

  I wanted to look away, but his gaze held mine, refusing to relent.

  “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known,” he said, and I felt the feather-light touch of his hand on my left side, his fingers lightly sliding over my ribs, drifting up to the curve of my breast.

  Another wave of heat washed through me and I relaxed, letting his hand hold up my head.

  He stepped between my legs, pushing them apart, but then he stopped, and his hooded eyes widened into a look of concern. “You’re wearing a gun.”

  “I thought it prudent after last night.”

  As he shifted from seducer to protector, his hand fell away from my side and he loosened his grip on my hair. “Did you have any problems after I left last night?”

  It was hard to stifle my disappointment at losing his touch. “No. And none today. But my encounter with Wagner made me realize I needed more than a Taser for protection.”

  Wearing a grim look, he nodded as he let go of my head and took a step back. “Do you want me to assign someone to watch over you?”

  “No. I suspect Wagner won’t try anything until tonight.”

  “And what do you plan on doing about his ultimatum?”

  “I can’t give him what I don’t have,” I countered.

  His voice turned rough. “True. But he’s gonna show up with guns blazin’ anyway.”

  I offered him a half-smile. “I’m still workin’ out how to avoid that.”

  “I’m gonna be there when he comes, Rose.”

  “At my farm?”

  “Did he tell you he’d meet you somewhere else?”

  “No.” Part of me wanted to protest that it would destroy my attempts to look neutral if he showed up, but I was smart enough to know that while I might have held Wagner off last night, there would be no repeat performa
nce tonight. I didn’t want a shootout at my house, and men like Wagner only respected and bowed to threats that were stronger than him. He’d make doggone sure he came back with more force this time, which meant I had to be prepared too. “Okay. You can be there.”

  He nodded, relief filling his eyes. He took another step back. “You’re not the only one who loses control, and as much as I want to take you right here, that’s not why I asked you to meet me.”

  He was putting distance between us to talk. I grinned. “Then why did you ask me to meet you here?”

  “We need to set some ground rules.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If you’re going to continue to be in dangerous situations, we need to make sure you’re protected.”

  “You mean you’ll send your men to protect me.”

  He paused, and it was obvious he wasn’t excited to have this conversation. “Not just mine.”

  I squinted at him. “What does that mean?”

  He paused again, his entire body taut with tension. “Dermot’s men too.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Dermot?” I shook my head. “He’ll never agree to that.”

  His dark gaze held mine. “He already did.”

  In that moment, I could see exactly what this cost him. He’d sacrificed his pride and risked his reputation, all for the sake of keeping me safe because I wouldn’t let him claim me. He’d put everything on the line.

  I shook my head, wanting to say something but not knowing what to say. No? Thank you? I’m sorry?

  His mouth spread into a soft smile. “It’s okay, Rose.”

  “It’s not,” I said in a thick voice.

  He moved closer and stood between my legs again, wrapping his arms around my back. When he looked down at me, his smile had fallen away and the look in his eyes suggested an emotion I’d only seen a time or two before. Love. Not that he’d ever admit it. “You were right. The best way to keep you safe is for you to be neutral. Dermot recognizes that too. He’s none too thrilled to get into the middle of a spat with Wagner, but he believes in you enough to risk it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he thinks you can help bring about the kind of peace this county hasn’t known for decades.”

  “Me?”

  His hand slid behind my head again, his fingers curling around my hair in a light hold. “You.”

  I tried to shake my head, but his hold made it a tiny movement.

  “It comes with a price though,” he said reluctantly.

  “What does he want you to do?”

  “Not me,” he said, and the pain in his gaze let me know how much it killed him to say this. “You. He wants you to agree to have visions for him.”

  “How does he know about my visions?” But even as I asked, I knew.

  “The night Merv kidnapped you.”

  I’d managed to send Jed a text that night, telling him that Merv was kidnapping me, and he’d called Dermot as backup. Dermot had shot Merv to save me, and he’d been there in the aftermath, when James had dragged me out from underneath Merv’s body—and also out of my vision of death. I’d been a freezing mess, unable to warm up, and too shaken to hide my visions from anyone present in the warehouse. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to piece things together. All he would have needed to do was ask a few well-phrased questions.

  Mouth gaping, I stared up at him.

  “He’s open to negotiation.” He swallowed. “I told him it wasn’t my talent to barter.”

  I pushed on his chest, backing him up so I could slide down from the tailgate and take several steps away. I felt trapped and confined, but it had nothing to do with James. “I’m not sure I can agree to that.”

  “I know it’s not ideal, but I suspect he’s open to a limited arrangement. I can insist you’ll only do it if you’re accompanied by Jed or one of my men you trust.”

  I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand . . .”

  Until last night, I hadn’t seen or communicated with James since the morning after Merv’s death. He had no idea my visions had stopped. Neely Kate was the only one who knew.

  “I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “I do understand. You have no idea how hard this is for me to even suggest it.”

  I turned to face him. “Believe me, the enormity of that isn’t lost on me.”

  “Offer him one. I swear we’ll make sure you’re safe when you do it. I’ll even be with you if you want.”

  I took a step closer. “James, it’s not my stubbornness that’s keeping me from considering it.”

  “Then what is it?” he asked, confused now.

  “Because I haven’t had a vision in nearly two weeks.”

  He stared at me, his eyes wide. “You mean since you almost died.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re gone?” he asked in disbelief.

  “The spontaneous ones.”

  “You can’t force a vision either?”

  “I haven’t tried.”

  He waited for me to elaborate.

  I started to turn around again, but he snagged my arm and spun me to stand in front of him. “Why haven’t you tried?”

  “I spent my entire life wishing the things away. Why would I want them back now?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Those visions made me an outsider. Now that they’re gone, maybe I’ll finally fit in.”

  His face went blank.

  “You’re only upset because you can’t use them,” I said, sounding more bitter than I’d intended.

  “I’m upset that you still see yourself as that scared woman who walked into my pool hall a year ago.”

  Tears stung my eyes. He was right. Some days I still saw myself that way. I’d made so much progress, yet sometimes I still felt like that scared girl who’d been berated for twenty-four years by my mother’s sharp tongue.

  “Your visions don’t define you, Rose, but they’ve played a part in the woman you’ve become. And I wouldn’t change a hair on your head.”

  “So you think I should force a vision?”

  “Only you can decide what choice to make, but your visions have done a lot of good.” He paused. “You of all people know that. What are you really afraid of?”

  I stared up at him, realizing he was right. That hadn’t been the real reason. “What if I try to force a vision and they’re gone for good?”

  “What if they’re not?”

  “I’m not ready to face this yet.”

  “That’s not the way of the Lady in Black. She faces her fears head-on.” A smile played on his lips. “She threatens to shoot hardened criminals in the family jewels.”

  “Maybe she needs a little longer to figure this one out.”

  “I’m not sure you have that much time.”

  He was right, but I still wasn’t ready to face it. Maybe I wasn’t the badass Lady in Black after all. Maybe Kip Wagner was right. Maybe I’d been playing dress-up all along.

  “It’s okay,” he said, tugging my chest to his and wrapping his arm around my lower back. “But I need you to know that the visions have nothing to do with how I feel for you.”

  It wasn’t until he said the words that I realized that had been one of my fears too. “Thank you.”

  “You still need to negotiate with Dermot.”

  I tilted my head back to look up at him. “You think I should negotiate with something I’m not sure I have?”

  “I think you should assume you still have it until you prove otherwise.”

  “You and I both know how badly this will go if I can’t force a vision for him. It could mean my death.” I shivered at the thought. Dermot might be nice to me now, but I had no idea how he’d react to the notion he’d been double-crossed.

  James’ eyes hardened. “All the more reason to have Jed or me with you.”

  “I thought you said I could pick one of your other men.”

  “That was before I knew about the change in your visions.”<
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  I should force one now and get this over with. James was right. I needed to face this head-on. “This is stupid. There’s one way to resolve this, and it needs to be done.” I pulled out of his arms. “Give me your hand.”

  He looked momentarily confused but quickly caught up to speed, taking my hand in his. We both knew I could have forced a vision in his arms, but for some reason, I felt more comfortable this way. Thankfully, he didn’t fight me on it.

  “What do you want me to see?” I asked in a low voice.

  He looked down at me with warm eyes, a gaze he only showed to me. “Let’s make it easy. Look for what I’m gonna have for dinner.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not the Lady in Black way. She goes big or she goes home.”

  He grinned, and his hand tightened around mine. “That’s my girl.”

  “I’ll look for what happens tonight with Wagner.”

  He didn’t answer, just held my hand tighter.

  I closed my eyes, about to ask that very question when I heard a loud bang, a sound that reminded me of a gunshot. Suddenly, I was back in that warehouse, hearing the gunshot that had killed Merv. Feeling his body crush mine to the concrete floor. Being covered by his blood. My eyes flew open in panic.

  James pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms tight around me, and it was then I realized I was shaking.

  “It’s okay. A car passin’ by backfired.”

  But it wasn’t okay. It was far from okay. “I need to try again.”

  “Just give yourself a couple of minutes,” he said in a soothing tone. “A couple of minutes isn’t gonna make a difference one way or the other.”

  I glanced up at him, realizing how much he’d changed too. Last November, he would have pushed me anyway, fear or no fear. I wasn’t sure if this was a positive development or not. Nevertheless, I was grateful for the reprieve. I suspected being afraid could hinder my abilities even more. It had certainly affected me that way when Merv had practically held a gun to my head to force a vision.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” he said, already guiding me toward the truck bed. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

  “Okay.”

  I put my back to the tailgate, reaching my arms behind me to hop up, but James put his hands on my waist and lifted me as though I weighed nothing. He set me down and left his hands on my hips, watching me with a look I wasn’t used to from him.