by HELEN HARDT
“I’d gladly face life in prison to protect both of you,” she said.
“We know that, Mom,” Tyler said, “but neither of us will ever let that happen.”
He was right on that point. If Alicia went rogue, I might not be able to get my brother out of this, but I’d find an attorney who could get my mother off with no more than a slap on the wrist. Then Tyler and I would have to face the consequences of our actions that long-ago night.
I could take it. I had to. My career would wait.
But Tyler? Right now he was mentally fit. I hoped he was strong enough to endure what might be coming.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Heather
I yanked my arm out of her grasp. “What do you want?”
“Just a warning, honey. Stay away from Jett.”
“Well, he’s not here and I am, so I’d say I’m away from him. But I don’t really see what business it is of yours if I see him or I don’t.”
“Everything Jett Draconis does is my business,” she hissed. “I made him.”
“Yes, I know you helped him make it in rock and roll,” I said. “And I’m sure he appreciates it. That doesn’t mean he’s yours. You didn’t give him his musical talent. That’s his alone.”
“Did he tell you that he fucked me yesterday?” She smiled like a snake.
My heart fell into my stomach with a thud. Tears threatened, but I would not let this witch see me cry. Besides, she could very well be lying. “Who he fucks is his own business. None of mine. And certainly none of yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweet pea. I own him.”
“Really? I thought slavery was outlawed a century and a half ago.”
She grabbed my arm again. “Don’t play superior with me, you little slut. He’s had his fill of you. You’re nothing but a fuck to him.”
I yanked my arm away once more. “Apparently, that’s all you are to him as well. Touch me again, Alicia, and I’ll have you arrested for assault and battery.”
“Do what you want. My attorneys will make mincemeat out of you.”
I didn’t respond. I simply walked through the rest of the house and out the door, tears already streaming down my face.
The noon shift.
Better than the evening shift as far as unwanted attention went, but the tips weren’t near as good. I inhaled and went to my first table.
Alicia Hopkins? Again?
I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of asking another waitress to cover the table.
“Hello, Alicia. What can I get for you today?”
“Sit down, Heather.”
“I’m sorry. I’m working. If you’re not going to order anything, I’ll help other customers.”
“I said sit down. Your manager won’t mind. I’ve already talked to him.”
“Well, I mind.” She didn’t need to know that I’d already given my notice and I didn’t give a rat’s ass what Knox thought about anything. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
I strode over to my next table, took their order, and then took orders for three other tables before Lori Ann, another waitress, tapped me on the shoulder.
“The woman at table seven has complained about you three times to me. Could you take care of her please? She’s a pain in the ass.”
How well I knew. But Lori Ann was a nice person—a career waitress who had helped me out a lot. I smiled. “Of course.”
I walked back to Alicia’s table. “What can I get for you today?”
“Your ass in the seat across from me.”
What nerve! “Sorry, that’s not on the menu, ma’am.” I walked away again.
I delivered orders to four other tables and took another order before Knox cornered me. “Take a break, Heather.”
“I don’t get a break for another three hours. I’m fine.”
“Hey, the woman at table seven wants to speak to you, and she just paid me a thousand dollars to make it happen. So go sit there for as long as she wants.”
I shook my head. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Do I sound like I’m kidding? That’s Alicia Hopkins.”
“I know who she is.”
“Then you know I’m serious.” He handed me a hundred dollar bill. “Here. It’s yours if you do it.”
“Sorry, Knox. It’ll cost you at least half if you want me to talk to that sow.”
He rolled his eyes and counted out four more bills. “Fine. Now go see what she wants.”
I smiled curtly and placed the bills in the pocket of my apron.
I walked toward Alicia’s table, Knox’s eyes burning two holes in my back, and then cut an abrupt turn toward the door.
Fuck Knox Jacobson. Fuck Alicia Hopkins.
Fuck two weeks’ notice.
I laughed out loud as I crossed the street to catch the bus home.
I was free! Free as a golden eagle flying through the clouds. Free to follow my dream of writing. Just writing. Even if it was a simple blog post. Heck, Julie Powell started out that way by documenting a year of cooking all the recipes in Julia Child’s cookbook. I’d find some way to make my writing pay. Determination swept through me like a lightning bolt.
I was also free to figure out what was going on with Jett. Janet and Zane had told me some intriguing things, and I aimed to get to the bottom of everything. If there was any chance I could be with the man I’d fallen in love with, I would find it.
I laughed out loud again.
Stupid Knox Jacobson, taking money to get me to talk to Alicia Hopkins.
I should have demanded the whole thousand.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jett
Something jerked me out of a sound sleep.
“Jett, wake up!”
My mother was shaking me. I sat up in bed.
“What is it?”
“It’s Ty. He’s gone.”
“Shit. Really?”
“Yeah. His car is gone. He’s not answering his phone.”
Damn.
He’d run.
My big brother, who had come so far, had decided to bail.
Why hadn’t he come to talk to me? I wasn’t going to let him go down. I thought I’d made that clear.
“I’ll find him, Mom.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No. You need to stay home in case he shows up. Keep your cell on you and call me if you hear anything.”
Five hours of searching Chicago, making phone calls, checking with the bus companies and airlines and calling all the hospitals.
And nothing.
I had to go home and tell my mother I’d failed to find her first son.
I’d failed her, and I’d failed Tyler, my big brother.
I’d failed my bandmates by leaving town and skipping the concert at Zane’s last night. I’d failed my fans who’d been looking forward to seeing me.
And I’d failed Heather. I couldn’t give her what she deserved.
Hell, what we both deserved.
I’d most likely be going to prison along with my brother. I’d take time if I had to in order to get my mother off the hook.
Failure.
A long time had passed since I’d used that word to describe myself. But I couldn’t even take credit for my success. That credit belonged to Alicia.
Fucking Alicia.
She would ruin me and my family, and she’d laugh as she did it. I did have one consolation, though. I’d never have to go near the bitch again. I’d no longer have to come when she called, stick my dick into her evil body.
As glad as that thought made me, I’d gladly fuck her for the rest of my life if I could save Tyler and my mom.
But could I give up Heather? Heather, who had grown to be as necessary to me as breathing?
I drove up to Mom’s house and went inside.
She ran up to me, her eyes pleading.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I couldn’t find him.”
“Oh, Jeremy!” She fell into my arms, so
bbing. “He was doing so well.”
“I know. I know. But this is all on me, Mom.”
“No. Don’t say that.”
“If I hadn’t been so eager to make it to the top…” I shook my head and kissed the top of my mother’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” she said again, the words muffled by her soft weeping.
We stood there, hugging, for what seemed like an eternity, until the door opened.
“Mom. Jer.”
My mom gasped and pulled away from me. “Tyler!” She ran into my brother’s arms.
I turned and stared. An attractive woman in a navy blue suit accompanied him.
“Ty,” I said. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. But I have a lot to tell you both.” He turned to the woman. “This is Fran O’Hara. She’s a friend of mine. And an attorney.”
Fran held out her hand to Mom. “It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Gustafson.”
“Call me Eden,” Mom said. “But I’m afraid I don’t understand—”
“She’s our attorney, Mom,” Tyler said. “I just hired her.”
“I’ve known Tyler for a couple years,” Fran said. “He made all the furniture for my office.”
“Fran was good enough to see me this morning without an appointment,” Tyler said. “In fact, she cleared her schedule for the day at my request.”
“Whatever for?” I asked.
“Fran specializes in criminal defense,” Tyler said.
My stomach churned. “Tyler. What have you done?”
“Something I should have done a long time ago. Can we sit down, please?”
Tyler led us all into the living room, where he sat with Fran on the couch, and Mom and I each took a chair.
“I’ve made a deal,” Tyler said. “Or rather, Fran made an amazing deal for me. I should let her tell it.”
“Tyler explained to me what happened with Harley Massey,” she said. “How you both helped him cover up his involvement.”
Nausea swept up my throat as fingers of fear clawed at me. I didn’t like where this was going.
“I called the DA,” Fran continued, “who happens to be a law school classmate of mine. I explained the situation, and we were able to strike a deal.”
“What deal?” Mom asked, her voice shaking.
Tyler cleared his throat. “I’m probably going to prison.”
“No!” Mom stood.
“Sit down, Mom,” I said, my body numb. “Let’s hear him out.”
“I have to do it,” Tyler said. “I should have done it seven years ago. I’m guilty, after all.”
“But of course there are many extenuating circumstances,” Fran said. “And luckily the DA understands that. What Tyler did amounts to voluntary manslaughter, not murder. The DA thinks he can get the judge to accept a guilty plea to the lesser crime of involuntary manslaughter with a sentence not to exceed twelve months in prison.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling numb. “What if the judge doesn’t accept that?”
“Then I go to trial for voluntary manslaughter, Jer. It’s okay. I know the risk involved.”
“But this is an old crime,” Fran said. “The judge will probably be thrilled to plead it down. The dockets are overflowing. Plea bargains happen all the time. It’s standard procedure.”
“No, Ty,” Mom said. “You can’t go to prison. I won’t allow it.”
“With all due respect, Mom, that’s not your decision to make. I’m a grown man.”
“There’s more,” Fran said. “My deal with the DA includes immunity for both of you. Neither of you will be prosecuted as accessories after the fact.”
“No,” Mom said again. “You can’t do this, Ty.”
“I can do this, and I will. You two have always been there for me, and now Jeremy is in a mess because of what he did to help me.” He turned to me. “You deserve love, bro. Go find your woman. Tell her how you feel.”
“Ty—”
“Hey, you want me to put you in the dryer again?”
I couldn’t help a chuckle. When I was two, apparently I’d done something to piss Ty off—he couldn’t remember what—and he’d put me in the dryer. I didn’t remember any of it, but Mom and Ty told the story all the time.
“Let me do this for you, Jer. I owe you, brother.” He patted his left upper arm.
Though his long-sleeved button-down hid it, I knew what he was referencing. Before I left for LA, Ty and I had gotten matching Celtic lion tattoos—a nod to our mother’s Irish heritage, and also a celebration of our brotherhood. We’d always be there for each other no matter what, no matter where life led either of us. I choked up a little, not able to respond.
“I’ll be okay. I’m on my meds, and twelve months is a long cry from forever.”
“But if they don’t accept the plea—”
“Then I go to trial. And with Fran here representing me, I might just get off.”
“I assure you that you’re worrying needlessly,” Fran said. “There’s a ninety-nine percent chance the judge will accept the plea.”
Mom finally backed down, nodding. “All right, Ty. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure, Mom. Let me clean up my own mess for once.”
“When do you see the judge?” I asked.
“I was able to call in a favor and get him on the docket for four this afternoon.” She checked her watch. “Which means we need to get to the courthouse.”
“We’ll all go,” I said. “I should change. But I don’t have a suit here at home.”
“Just something other than jeans will be fine,” Fran said.
I stood and shook Fran’s hand. “Just so you know, don’t worry about getting your bills paid. I’ll take care of all of it.”
“I wasn’t worried. I told Ty I’d be happy to take it in a bedroom suite for my new home.” She smiled.
“One way or the other, you’ll get every penny and then some,” I assured her. Then I went to my room to change.
Chapter Forty
Heather
Though I was tempted to blow it on Rodeo Drive, the five hundred dollars I’d gotten from Knox went straight into the bank. I had a nice savings, but who knew how frugally I’d have to live until I found a way to make decent money from my writing? I had enough to live on for about a year if I didn’t earn anything at all, so that gave me a goal. I had to get something going within a year.
I was going to do it.
I hadn’t heard from Jett, and I was still a little worried that he hadn’t shown up for Zane’s party the prior evening. As much as I loved him, though, I hated the fact that he was somehow bound to Alicia Hopkins.
I made myself a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for dinner, poured a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and set up my laptop on the kitchen table to start my research on freelance writing. I was willing to do anything.
By nine o’clock, I had some good ideas percolating, and I set up a blog called Heather’s Haven. Kind of cheesy, but what the heck? No one would be reading it for a while anyway. I had a friend down the hall who was a tech geek, so I’d get her to help me with search optimization and all the other stuff I didn’t understand. I shot her a quick email and then rose to refill my wine glass.
A knock on the door startled me. It was a weeknight, and I rarely got visitors when Susie wasn’t home. I hoped it wasn’t Janet or Lindy trying to invite me to another wild party. As much as I honestly liked the two of them as people, that just was not my scene.
Nope. Now I was a writer. A true “I write for a living” writer. I had a career to work on. I was ready to spend every spare minute making this work. No more parties. No more dead-end jobs.
I opened the door—
“Oh!”
Jett stood there, wearing casual black Dockers and a tan cotton shirt, the top few buttons undone, his chest hair peeking out. His dark hair was pulled back in a messy Brock O’Hurn-style man bun.
And he was
smiling.
“Hi, J—”
He crushed his lips to mine. I opened for him without thinking. God, his kiss. How had I ever thought I could live without those kisses? We kissed deeply for a few timeless moments until he broke it with a loud smack of suction. His eyes were dark and filled with lust.
He walked into my apartment and pushed the door shut, trapping me against the wall. He slammed his lips down onto mine once more while he slid one hand up my side to cup my breast. My nipple hardened instantly, and he thumbed it gently through my camisole.
I strained forward, wanting to touch every part of me to every part of him.
His torture of my nipple became more urgent as he twisted it through the silky fabric. I moaned into his mouth, pushing myself against his hardness. I slid a hand from around his neck to the band holding his man bun in place. I tugged, releasing his hair and threading my fingers through the softness.
The need to feel his muscles, his skin, soared through me, and I unbuttoned his shirt quickly and brushed it over his shoulders. My breath caught at his beauty. I fingered the majestic lion on his left upper arm, his skin warm beneath my fingertips.
I slid my other hand down his hard chest to his black pants. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, releasing his glorious cock.
He groaned when I fisted him, pulling my hand toward his head and then swirling my finger through the drop of fluid and around his cockhead.
He broke our kiss and pushed me to my knees. “Suck my cock, Heather.”
Gladly. I licked the precome from his glistening head, savoring the saltiness. Then I plunged onto him, letting his head nudge the back of my throat.
