“Are you okay, Hartley?” Tears spilled from her already wet eyes. Fuck no she wasn’t okay.
“Tell me you had nothing to do with this, Justin. He was murdered. I’ve had lots of time to think. I heard you on the patio speaking to someone on the phone. I heard Topeka, mother, clean, quick, and other bits and pieces. I didn’t want to pry, but now the whole thing just seems so coincidental.” Her head was nodding in continuous, nervous quick motions. Already convinced, she’d made up her mind. She wasn’t going to let me explain. I could lie. But I wouldn’t.
I never claimed to be a martyr. I’d made lots of mistakes. Lived with what I thought were memories of killing the sick bastard when I was a kid, even though they’d been for naught. Though I’d never had anyone murdered, I had enough hatred for James McDonald that I could have had him killed ten times over.
None of this was about me. It wasn’t about the years of neglect and abuse. Had nothing to do with the sick feeling in my gut I felt each time he exposed himself. Wasn’t even about all the blows against my temple, or the money he’d confiscated from me after I thought the fuck was dead.
None of that meant shit. It was all inconsequential.
He’d fucked with my mother, though.
Turned her from a beautiful healthy woman to a drug abuser and alcoholic. Weakened her to what I remembered being no more than ninety some odd pounds.
Then left her with nothing while he lived like goddamn royalty … off my dollar.
The maggot was dead. And I was goddamned glad.
“Yes, Hartley,” I nodded. “I ordered the hit.”
****
James was an easy target. I couldn’t see the shooter. Didn’t really need to. I’d seen his face dozens of times. James left at precisely 5:42 AM, pulling into the nearby mechanic shop he’d recently bought. I parked across the street from the metal building, looking at the sign reading Diesel Pros.
I stood beside my car, disposable phone in hand, watching as he stepped out of his Dodge truck, pulling up his jeans before walking toward the front door of the locked building, looking smug as fuck. Like he was someone that mattered. Some big shot who’d made something of his wormy little life.
One shot hit him perfectly in the right temple. He dropped to the ground, his death quick and clean, just as I’d ordered.
The throw-away phone dinged. I looked at the close-up of the perfect bullet hole. The bastard died with a shot to the same temple his fist had landed against mine time and time again. That was all I needed to see. Witnessing his final breath. I dropped the untraceable phone to the ground, smashing it with one hard crush of my boot.
There wouldn’t be a lengthy investigation. Handled by a professional, no evidence would be found. This would be an open and shut case.
I’d felt fear from him dozens of times as a child.
My mother had been used and abused for even longer.
Even if I ended up in prison for life, I was okay with that.
James McDonald wouldn’t hurt anybody again.
****
She was shaking, her body stiff and cold, her eyes gushing tears as they cut through mine.
“JT. Why?” She uttered the name she generally used in good times. Her bottom lip trembled.
“Did he suffer?” She swallowed back a choke, her voice coming out shallow and whispery.
“No, baby. He never felt it coming. Didn’t feel a thing.”
I reached for her hand, holding her cloudy brown eyes securely with my gaze. I was dying to pull her against me and kiss away all the hurt I’d caused. She pulled back as her eyes dropped to the floor.
Don’t leave me. Please. Don’t go, sweet thing.
“He’s been watching me for years, Hartley. He knew everything about me.”
“How do you know all this, Justin?”
“I hired some people. He had access to my bank accounts and e-mail. He paid somebody a fucking nice chunk of change to hack into my shit. He’s been taking money from my mother for years. Money meant for her.” Her eyes dimmed. She was going to fucking leave me. It was all over her face.
“My mother … did she know all this? Does Jackson know?”
I nodded. “I don’t know about your mother and I haven’t talked to your brother,” I answered quietly.
“I don’t understand. That day at the restaurant. Did my mother know who you were?”
“Probably. Or fuck, I don’t know for sure. She was intimidated by James. Brushed off everything he did. Just like my mother.”
Jesus, she was crying again. Long ugly sobs racked her delicate chest. I motioned her toward me.
“Come here. Please come here, baby.”
She fell limply against my chest.
“Fuck, Hartley. I’m so sorry.”
She was shaking hard. I didn’t know what to fucking do to stop the pain.
“My father, JT .He’s in my blood.”
“Hartley. Baby, look at me.” I raised her face, holding her cheeks between my hands. “That man has never been anybody’s father. And there’s none of James McDonald in your blood. Not a fucking drop.”
I watched a touch of the dread in her eyes dissipate. She laid her head against my chest, my shirt absorbing the moisture from her wet eyes. So many feelings streamed through my head right now. I didn’t know what to do with them. I’d give up anything, throw it all away just to protect her and make her smile again.
“Okay, JT” she whispered. “I just need some time alone. I’m sorry.”
My body went numb as I listened to the latch on the door click into place, sounding like a fucking shotgun blast.
She. Left. Me.
She hated me.
I fucking hated me.
The pain was instant.
Agonizing.
My face hurt.
My teeth.
My heart.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Hartley
After more long minutes of sitting in my car still in a semiconscious state, I took another swift drink of Diet Dr. Pepper, hoping the three Advil that still felt lodged in my throat would finally ease up and stop borderline gagging me.
My head was killing me. Everything hurt. I felt like shit. I looked worse. All night, I’d sat in the darkness of my apartment with nothing but an eerie silence and the sound of my weeping. As I walked into work, I hoped I could keep my emotions hidden.
Justin had a man killed. I understood … sort of, but that was huge. And terrifying. A tiny voice in my head screamed for me to run. Yet, a much larger soft whisper told me just the opposite. That he was still a good person. Not a monster. Through and through, no matter what he’d done, I still loved him, but I couldn’t be with him right now. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even next week.
He had James killed for the atrocious things he did to his mother over the years, his own abusive abomination not behind his reasoning. And ultimately, it wasn’t that I cared that the man was dead. I didn’t give three fucks. I had no feelings for him. But my mother was hurt and even through all the mistakes she’d made, she was still my mother. What it boiled down to was simply that Justin had a man assassinated in cold blood. James McDonald was an awful human, but murder … it scared me.
Was it something I could live with?
Right now, I just didn’t know.
“Hartley. We thought you’d be out the rest of the week.” Luna pulled me in for a hug as I played it calm and cool when all I really felt like doing was being alone.
I felt obligated to talk to Tyler and apologize for missing so much work. Today was his day in the Plano office.
“What’s Tyler’s schedule like today,” I asked Luna.
“Shit, you’re not quitting already, are you?” she asked, shooting me a quick scowl.
“No. I just feel like I should apologize for missing so much work. I’ve been such a shitty employee.”
“He’s booked. I’ll let you know when he gets a free minute. Are you sure you’re okay, though? You don’t have to be here. Ty
ler and Brandon both understand.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Okay, sweetie.”
My body fighting back exhaustion-induced emotion, I walked to my small corner office and logged onto my laptop. As much as I wondered if I was doing the wrong thing, I emailed Justin. Just because.
I missed his face.
His humor.
His touch.
His rock-hard ass.
His hands invading my body.
His incredibly talented mouth sighing against my thighs.
God, I loved him.
No matter what he’d done.
I’m at work. Hope you’re feeling okay.
My hand hovered over the Send button.
“Hey, Hartley. You need to talk to me?” Clad in dark blue scrubs, Tyler sat down on the corner of my desk. My head throbbing with a tension headache, I was suddenly at a loss for words.
“I’m really sorry about your father.” He reached for his cell phone that was dinging with a text, reading the message and returning the phone to his pocket. His eyes were widely open and blue, the small frown line between his perfectly arched brows prominent. Both his mother and younger brother had that same indention. It was cute how much they looked alike. And his kid brother Mason. Hot damn! Scorching hot genes definitely flowed in the Yates clan.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even bothered you. I just felt like I owed you and Brandon an apology for missing so much work.”
“You’re never a bother, Hartley. I’m really not that heinous of a boss, am I?” He barked out a small laugh, which ultimately was a huge one … for Tyler.
“Did you know Justin and I knew each other in Topeka?” My eyes glazed as I looked away. Embarrassed, I hated crying in front of people. Of course he knew. He was Justin’s best friend.
“Absolutely. Hell of a story.” It was a hell of a story. Suddenly, I was struggling through tears, staring at the bracelet on my wrist that I’d worn every day since Justin gave it to me. My whole life had been one fuck-up after another.
“Molly’s Diner … that’s where I met Justin for the first time.” Just the faintest smile covered Tyler’s lips, his eyes softening. He didn’t let his guard down much at work, but he wasn’t all hard ass and intimidation. Around his family, he showed a whole other side. Jekyll and Hyde at its finest.
“He lived in a goddamn storage room, Hartley, for years—and never complained.”
I reached for a tissue, cursing all this, seconds from going to pieces. I wanted to feel Justin. Hold him in my arms and never let go. My own mother and I were estranged, but it didn’t compare to Justin’s past. His mother could have found him if she’d tried looking. Could have saved him if she’d really wanted to.
“After I moved to Dallas, he called me one afternoon out of the blue. Had it all planned out. Opening up Venture. Swore he could make millions. He’s one of the smartest and strongest men I’ve ever known. I can see he’s upset you, but have an open mind. Don’t give up on him yet, Hartley. He holds back a lot of dark shit. No pun intended,” he winked. “He’s hard as hell to open up though. That grates on a man after a while. Believe me. I know.”
“He doesn’t like talking about any of that. And I guess I can understand. It’s just that … I don’t know. We’re just getting close. We haven’t really experienced anything together yet. And now, I’m wondering if we can make it work. I’m sorry I bothered you. I honestly just wanted to apologize for missing so much work.”
“No problem, Hartley. Justin’s a complicated man with a confusing past. Just give him some time, sweetie.”
Time. We’d both already wasted too much.
“Thanks, Tyler.” He flashed another smallish Tyler-type smile and nodded briefly.
Thirty seconds later, I’d already forgiven Justin. I couldn’t give up on my JT. He’d committed a horrible sin. He was complicated. But then, weren’t we all in some sense? And James McDonald was only that—James McDonald. DNA … genetics. They were only scientific words. They meant absolutely nothing.
He wasn’t the man who sent me to my room for talking back to my mother.
Who held me in his arms every time Bruce roamed.
Or teared up every time he watched me blow off the cheating.
The precious man I’d recently had an hour-long conversation with and left fresh flowers at his grave was my dad. Derek Jackson Shipman.
“Thanks again, Tyler. Oh, and one last thing … Mason.” His eyes widened at the mention of his brother.
“Is His Hotness dating anyone?” A full-on smile crept up Tyler’s face. He loved his brother. It was so obvious. I’d noticed the strong feelings between the two of them on Thanksgiving. I didn’t know the whole story behind Mason, but I didn’t need an explanation to recognize the bond the two of them shared.
“His Hotness?” I shrugged as Tyler’s eyes brightened.
“Sorry, but he’s smokin’ hot. You have to hear that a lot.” I giggled. “And I have a friend from Topeka. I’m trying to get her to come visit. Mason might just be incentive to step up her game a little.”
“I see. I’ll certainly tell His Hotness about the friend.”
“Knock, knock. You busy?” Cat opened the door. “Oh, sorry, Tyler. I didn’t know you were still in here. My bad.”
“No problem, Cat. I was just leaving. Nice arrangement.” Tyler winked, walking off and disappearing into exam room number one.
“Hi Cat. Come on in.”
“Looks like somebody got welcome back flowers. These are stunning. What kind are they? This color, though.”
My watery eyes turned to full-blown tears.
“They’re pink lilies,” I answered quietly.
“Well, somebody loves you,” she said, setting the black vase down on the corner of my desk and walking out.
“Yeah, I love that somebody back,” I whispered to myself.
Thought you may like these. Yours, JT.
I pulled out my cell phone, walking toward Luna’s office.
The flowers are stunning. I still love you, JT.
****
A Game of Thrones marathon was on tonight. I’d missed so many episodes and I loved that show. Fresh from a long relaxing bath, I sprayed on an unnecessary misting of body spray, planning on watching as many episodes as I could. I reached for the top of my comforter, freezing at the sound of a knock. Justin was here. Seconds from the door, I didn’t need to look through the peephole. I felt his presence.
“Hi,” I whispered.
His hands were on either side of the door. He leaned over, uttering, “Hi, baby.”
Messy hair and his jaw trimmed to normal perfection, he smelled delicious. Jeans faded and distressed across the knees, they hung from his narrow hips perfectly. His dark purple, untucked button-down was just tight enough to bring out his toned body and eyes. Like most days, he was wearing his trademark square-toed boots in a dark brown. He’d given me an all new perspective on the cowboy boot.
“Can I come in?” His body stiff and detached, his eyes were unreadable. He seemed far away.
I sighed. “I need more time, Justin. Please try and understand.” His head hung low. I wanted to reach for him so badly. Wished all this had never happened. Silent, just staring at the bottom of the door, his eyes were dull. I leaned across, running a hand over the fuller than normal shadowed jaw that I loved. His eyes closed, his long lashes brushing his skin. I couldn’t stand to send him away. Not like this.
“You can come in.”
I rubbed my fingers through my still damp hair, realizing I only had on panties and a tank top.
“Can I get you anything, JT? I have an open bottle of Pinot Noir.” I knew he wasn’t much of a drinker, but right now I thought we both needed it.
I took the chilled bottle from the refrigerator that I’d opened before my bath. “You chill your Pinot?” He moved toward me, taking out a second wine glass from the cupboard that I was stretching to reach.
“I think it tastes better c
old,” I shrugged, filling his glass and topping mine off.
Schlotzsky’s had Cinnabons. And a drive-through. On my way home from work, I’d picked one up, not caring a damn bit about the caloric number and how my ass would have to be force-fed into my jeans in the morning. Justin glared at the pastry that had been picked to pieces.
“That thing looks like you were trying to slay it.”
“Justin, why are you here?” Obviously wanting something besides this small talk, he wasn’t saying anything.
After what seemed like a million minutes, he finally answered.
“You know why, Hartley.” His gaze cut to the side then returned to mine. So hard for him to open up to me, or anyone, I reached for his hand.
“Let’s sit down.” Quick to accept, we moved toward the couch, sitting.
“I thought I’d killed him when I was a kid. My mother never bothered telling me otherwise. I had no idea he was still on this earth. Still taunting her. Making his living off me. I want to show you something.” He pulled something from his shirt pocket. It was a worn photo of a little boy riding a camouflage bicycle.
“I wanted you to have this.”
What I knew was a truly unusual, hard gesture for Justin, I leaned over, laying my head on his shoulder, gazing at what was probably a very rare photo from his childhood.
“Thank you, baby” I said, the tension in the air easing.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Hartley
The sun formed jumping shadows on the vaulted ceiling, my bedroom half-lit. It would be dawn soon. Another first, last night Justin and I did nothing but talk about his childhood, or lack of. In that short length of time, our entire relationship molded into one that was completely reinforced and shatterproof. The simple fact that he’d shared such personal details with me was monumental. He’d been responsible for James’s death, and now … it seemed insignificant. There were so many complicated coats of a man like Justin. He’d endured so many difficult challenges at such a young age. And I wanted nothing more than to learn every single one.
After a good two hours, we fell asleep in my bed, holding hands, simply telling each other goodnight. His words of apology replayed in my mind.
Crimson Sunsets Page 20
