by Kylie Brant
Although his words hit their target, she was careful not to let it show. “Joel, your firm hires dozens of young hungry lawyers every year. I sincerely doubt that you need the services of one more.”
“I want you.” His blunt pronouncement shouldn’t have had the power to chill her skin. “We’d work well together, A.J. And I could count on you to stand up to me, not just say what I want to hear.”
“Well, you’ll just have to be content with facing me in court on occasion.” Her gaze dropped to her plate, and she felt queasy. Her appetite had vanished at Paquin’s appearance.
“I’m to have that pleasure soon.” His smile was feral. “I look forward to destroying the government’s case against my client.”
“And I look forward to seeing what possible kind of spin you can put on it, when Delgado was caught in a criminal act.”
He shrugged. “Who knows how a jury would interpret it? They may well see a pathetic loser with a crush on a woman who got carried away with a fantasy.”
She gave a laugh of disbelief. “You’re wasted on the law, Joel. You should be writing fiction.”
“And you should reconsider my proposition.” He stood, preparing to rejoin his companions. “It’ll remain open. Even after I shred your case in court.”
She watched him cross the room, her interest in finishing her meal nonexistent. It was always incredibly easy to dismiss his job offers out of hand. She’d gone into law for the express purpose of acquiring a prosecutor position. The American system of justice wasn’t perfect, but she believed implicitly in its principles.
Thoughts of her mother crept through her mind, like thieves in the night. There was no denying that a higher-paid position would go a long way toward paying Mandy’s mounting medical expenses. So far A.J. had managed without relinquishing her standards. Somehow she’d continue to find a way to do so.
Darkness had long since fallen when she climbed her porch steps. In the glow of the security light, she fumbled for the correct key. The slam of a car door nearby didn’t alarm her, but the sound of footsteps on her walk did. She whirled around, a key tucked between her fingers, jagged edge out, prepared for battle.
And then she closed her eyes in dismay, recognizing the man strolling toward her. “McKay, there has to be some sort of pest control ordinance you’re violating.”
He was wearing a particularly obnoxious shirt, this one with red and purple flowers rioting on an orange background. With a box tucked under his arm, hands shoved in his pockets, he looked for all the world like a fashion-impaired tourist out enjoying the tropical night air.
A slight smile played at his lips. “Is that thing loaded?”
It took a moment to register his meaning. When she did, she dropped the hand that was still brandishing the key to her side. “If it were, you’d have another hole in your head by now.”
He stopped and rested one foot on the first step of the porch. “Guess I should be careful in the future not to get you keyed up.” When her expression didn’t change, he chuckled. “C’mon, Addie, where’s your sense of humor? Admit I’m a wit.”
“Only half.” She firmed lips that wanted, badly, to smile. Leaning one hip against the railing, she observed, “You didn’t track me down to crack bad jokes.”
“No, I didn’t. I tracked you down to give you this.” He shifted the box he was carrying and held it out to her. “Consider it a peace offering.”
She stared at it suspiciously, then at him. “Is it ticking?” The lone dimple beside his mouth deepened, a rakish dent that accentuated those well-formed lips. It would be easy, she imagined, for a more gullible woman to be charmed by it.
“I want to throw myself on the mercy of the court by making restitution.” When she still didn’t reach for the box, he shook it a little for emphasis. “I’m a little hazy on my fairy tales. But I’m sure something terrible is supposed to happen if you’re still unshod by midnight.”
Her gaze bounced from the box back to his face. “You bought me shoes?” Her voice was incredulous.
“I’m almost certain there’s a pumpkin in that story, too.” He considered for a moment, then shrugged off the thought. She still hadn’t taken the box, so he started up the steps and pushed it into her free hand. “Let’s go in and see how I did on size.”
“I’m not letting you in to play shoe salesman at this time of night.” She held the box out to him. “I’m perfectly capable of shopping for myself. And I don’t need you buying me anything.”
“But I’m responsible for your mishap this afternoon.”
“No,” she said, surprising him. “You’re not. I can blame cretinous designers, simple-minded purchasers, or, if you’re ungentlemanly enough to insist, my own lack of grace. But it was hardly your fault.”
Her words caught him by surprise, although perhaps they shouldn’t have. She’d always had that core of honesty in her, and had never hesitated to turn it on herself. It was one of her most attractive qualities.
Because she seemed to expect a response he said, “Okay. It was your own fault.” And then enjoyed watching her eyes heat and narrow. “But you’re going to have to take the shoes, anyway, because I refuse to go back into that place to return them. I’m pretty sure the clerk thought I was a cross dresser.”
This time she couldn’t prevent her lips from curving. She cocked her head consideringly. “You know, I think I can see it. If you grew your hair out a little, wore it with more height…you should stick to pastels, though. You’re definitely a summer.”
Oddly satisfied that he’d made her smile, he reached out and took the set of keys she still held. Ignoring her protest, he moved past her and fit the house key into the lock. When the door gave, he pushed it open and gestured her inside.
She stepped into her house, if only to prevent him from doing so. “Enough, already, McKay. It’s been a long day and I really…what are you doing?” He’d followed, crowding her in the darkened foyer.
“Making sure you get inside all right.”
“I’m inside. The problem is, so are you.”
Instead of the retort she’d expected, he pushed out an arm, shoved her behind him. “Stay back.”
His whispered command drew her ire. “Listen, McKay, I’m not going to…”
He turned in the darkness, laid his fingers on her lips and walked her backward out the door by virtue of his superior strength. “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked, once they were on the porch.
She pushed his hand aside. “Yes. I keep it in case I meet idiots who won’t let me into my home.”
He ignored her words and reached for the door handle again. “Use it to call 911. There’s someone in your house.”
Chapter 3
It took a moment for Dare’s words to register. When they did, A.J. made no move to obey them. She followed him back into the house, grabbed his shirt and gave it a yank. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” she hissed.
With maddening ease, he moved forward despite her grip, felt along the wall for a light switch and flipped it on. “Get outside and make the call.”
“Not unless you come, too.”
Their whispered conversation came to a halt when the shadowy figure he’d seen earlier stood up, walked toward them. A.J. was plastered close enough to Dare to feel his muscles bunch.
“I didn’t think you’d mind me making myself at home.”
The familiar voice hit her with the strength of a blow. A peculiarly apt description, she thought, shoving aside the sudden swimming nausea. She could feel Dare shift, prepare to spring. Grabbing his shoulder, she said, “Don’t. It’s my brother.”
His head snapped around to stare at her. She avoided his gaze by pushing by him to walk into the room, switching on a lamp. “Leo. This is a surprise.” The understatement of her words was its own kind of mockery. “When did you get out?” As she waited for his answer, she took a rapid visual assessment. Her stomach dropped a bit further. On the surface at least, prison hadn’t improved Leo Jacobs.
He ha
d the lean, edgy look of a man too used to watching his back. His jaw was hollowed, and his mouth held its habitual twist of resentment. He’d worn it for as long as she could remember. A tumbler of scotch was held loosely in his hand. His drink of choice, apparently, was another thing that hadn’t changed.
“A while ago,” Leo said vaguely. His gaze was directed behind her. “Am I interrupting a date?” His smile was thin, bordering on insulting.
“How’d you get in here?”
A.J. sent a startled look Dare’s way. Until he’d mentioned it, she’d been too shaken to even think about her brother’s entry.
Leo flicked a challenging glance at him. “Better run along, pal. This is a family reunion. And you’re not family.”
Dare met the man’s gaze, held it. “I think I’ll stay,” he said mildly. He moved to the wall and leaned a shoulder against it, crossing his arms.
Ignoring them both, A.J. went to the kitchen, turned on the light. And then cursed when she saw the broken glass on the floor. Striding back into the living room she inquired, “Ever heard of a phone call, Leo? Breaking and entering is a bad habit to take up so quickly after your release, isn’t it?”
His eyes, the same color as her own, went sly. “I didn’t know whether or not you’d want to see me. It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
Moving further into the room, she set down her briefcase and the box she was still holding. “Who’s your parole officer?”
“Coulson.”
“He’s good. Tough, but if you stay employed he won’t give you any trouble.” Because it gave her something to do with her hands, she picked up yesterday’s newspaper, folded it into two neat halves. “Do you have a job yet? I might be able to find you something if you haven’t.”
Leo spread his arms along the back of the couch. “What? Sweeping up in some greasy diner?” He gave a harsh bark of laughter. “No, thanks. I’ve got something lined up.”
She gave a brisk nod. “Good. Is there anything else you need?”
Her brother shoved his fingers in his wheat-colored hair. “In a hurry to get rid of me?”
The question arrowed a little too close to the truth. She denied it, anyway. “No. Just wondering if there was any way I could help.”
“Well, that’s a change. The way I remember it, when I needed help the most you were singing a different tune.”
She gave a weary inner sigh at the bitter words. They were headed for familiar territory. The rerun wouldn’t be pleasant. She cast a look at Dare. “You should go. My brother and I have a lot to discuss.”
His level gaze saw more, far more than was comfortable. “I’ll just clean up the mess.” Pushing himself away from the wall, he disappeared into the kitchen.
Leo’s gaze followed him. “So that’s the type you go for. Way you always acted too good for my friends, we wondered if you were playing for the other team.”
Her voice iced. “Your opinion is hardly surprising. You don’t know me. You never did.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” The sneer in his voice was reflected on his face. “I had you figured out when you were seven. Still trying for the gold star on your forehead, aren’t you, A.J.?”
It took effort, but she shoved aside the temper she could feel rising. “Let’s not do this. Tell me what you need. I’ll see what I can—”
He was off the couch and by her side in an instant, his hand gripping her arm. “You’ll see what you can do for me? I asked you to do me a small favor once before, remember? But you couldn’t sacrifice your sacred principles to help your own flesh and blood then, could you?”
Angry tendrils of pain radiated from his touch. “Take your hand off me or you’ll be nursing a broken nose, bro. Promise.” Their gazes clashed, warred.
He looked away first. His hand loosened its grasp, then fell to his side. There was a grudging note of approval in his tone. “Haven’t lost that kick-ass attitude, have you?”
She resisted the urge to rub her throbbing arm. “I certainly had the role models for it.”
He turned, went back to pick up the drink he’d left on the table beside her couch. “Speaking of role models…how is dear old dad?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
He sipped, watching her over the rim of the glass. “That’s right, you cut him out of your life just like you did me, didn’t you? You never did appreciate a damn thing he did for us.”
Memories stirred now, angry hornets with a still-painful sting. “What he did for us? What exactly would that be, Leo? You mean when he’d gamble all his paycheck so we went hungry for a week? Is that the part I’m supposed to admire? Or maybe I should be grateful for the way he’d come home drunk, and you’d try to convince him that I was the one who deserved beating instead of you.”
Leo’s eyes went opaque. “Shut up.”
But the memories were raging now, wouldn’t be quieted. “I know Mom was grateful. There’s nothing like a guy who puts you in the hospital half a dozen times a year.” Her laugh was a little wild, emotions riding high. “And let’s not forget the time he broke your arm because you wore his leather jacket. Yeah, Rich Jacobs is a real prince, all right.”
“I said shut up!” The sound of glass shattering punctuated his shout. A.J. didn’t turn to watch the scotch trickling down her living room wall. If she had, she would have seen Dare standing in the doorway, body tensed, fists curled.
“He wasn’t that bad.”
The choked-out words sounded like a plea somehow and defused A.J.’s fury as nothing else could. She fought for control, detesting the effort it took. “I don’t know where he is. And if you have an ounce of self-preservation left, you won’t try to find him.”
He turned then, his shoulders slumping a little, and her heart twisted. Leo had always been the weaker of the two of them, despite his being older by two years. And Rich Jacobs was a man who’d preyed on weakness.
“Aren’t you going to ask about Mama?” Her question hung in the air, suspended on gossamer threads.
He wheeled around, a cruel smile pasted on his face. “Yeah, how is the old lady? Still crazy as a loon?”
The oxygen seemed to clog in her lungs, before being released in a rush. “She’s not crazy.”
He shrugged, clearly unconvinced. “Couldn’t prove it by me. She live here, too?”
“No.” A.J. was filled with a sudden reluctance to share any more information. “She’s at a place where she can get the help she needs.”
“Maybe I should drop by, pay her a visit.” He looked satisfied by her reaction. “Bet she’d be a lot more welcoming than you’ve been.”
“I’m glad you stopped by,” she said firmly. But there was no way she was going to tell him where their mother was placed. A.J. could fight her own battles, but her mother was defenseless; lost in a world where no one could follow. Her mental health was far too fragile to chance Leo’s petty cruelties. “How are you fixed for money?” When he remained silent, she went to her purse and withdrew some bills. “I’ve only got a couple hundred, but if you get in a jam I can get you some more.”
After a moment that stretched for an eternity, he reached to take it. “Conscience money?”
She met his gaze squarely. “I don’t have a guilty conscience.”
“Well, you should.” His voice rose a fraction. “You had the contacts. You know judges. You could have pulled some strings, gotten those charges reduced. Or dropped altogether.”
A wave of exhaustion hit her. It was familiar ground. It had been his topic of choice every visit she’d made to him in prison, until she’d spared them both and stopped going. “I don’t have that kind of power. I wish you’d believe that.”
He lowered his face to hers, and his voice was caustic. “Maybe not. But you wouldn’t have done it even if it had been possible, would you?”
It cost far more than it should have to answer him honestly. “No.” The flare in his eyes was a warning. She didn’t back down, but met his temper head-on with her own. “You
screwed up, Leo. You made the choices and you had to take responsibility for them. I believe in the system and I wouldn’t have compromised that belief by trying to get special treatment for you, even if I could have.”
He nodded, as if she was merely affirming what he already knew. But he didn’t accept it, she realized with a sinking heart. He would never accept it. He brushed by her, headed for the door.
“Where are you going? Do you have a place to stay?”
“I’ve got a place.” He turned far enough to look at her. “I might see you around later. Fact is, I just might pay the old lady a visit.”
Her veins turned to ice. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“Well, sister dear, I never gave a damn what you thought. That hasn’t changed.” He opened the front door and was gone.
A.J.’s shoulders drooped a little at his exit. What was it about family, she wondered, that left her reeling like a boxer too long in the ring? She’d rather go through a lengthy cross-examination with Paquin than deal with her brother. They were like rats on a wheel, always circling and never getting anywhere. There was a time when she’d hoped for things to be different. She’d long ago accepted that they never would be.
She looked up then and saw Dare standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her with something dangerously close to sympathy in his eyes. She’d forgotten his presence. Defenses, long ago constructed, clicked into place.
“Well, that was a scene better played without an audience.” Because she needed to move, she starting picking up the shards of glass from the tumbler Leo had broken, carefully placing the pieces on a newspaper. Without looking up, she said, “It’s getting late. It would be best if you left.” Better at least for her. It was always preferable to be alone until the inner storm had passed.
“Your brother’s a charming guy.”
“Leo?” Her smile was as brittle as her voice. “You’ll have to forgive him. Some of his traits are genetically induced. They just flow through his blood like an oil spill.”
“He hurt you.”
