Walk the Line

by J. Kenner

  When she lifted her head, he saw pain in her eyes, and he hated that he was the one who put it there. But there would be pain--that was inevitable. And it was his job to see that it wasn't Faith who suffered.

  "Listen to me, Brent. I'm not going anywhere. I was planning to tell you tomorrow. I made up my mind. I'm staying right here."

  He flinched, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of her words.

  "I get it, you know. I understand what you're doing for Faith, and I get it. Hell, I agree with it. I grew up without a father, remember? I understand what you're trying to protect. And because I do, I decided to stay."

  He said nothing, but he sat in the chair opposite her.

  She licked her lips and plowed on. "I love you," she said, and instead of settling over him warm and soft, the words seemed to burn through him, leaving painful scars that seared his soul.

  "And I know you're going to say I'm too young," she continued, "but I'm certain of it."

  "Elena--"

  "No." She cut him off sharply. "Dammit, Brent, I want a chance. You don't have to say you love me back right away," she added, and the fact of his love sat heavy inside him.

  "But I know that you do," she continued. "I can feel it, Brent, and I know you can, too. And ... well, because of that, I've been looking at only certain jobs. Ones that are either here or that will let me work from here. There are lots of opportunities. I don't have to go away to do what I want. You're afraid of stealing my dream, and I get that. But you aren't. And you're afraid that I'll change my mind and steal Faith's heart. But you're wrong. I won't. I'm staying. For the work. And because I love you."

  She sat back, her expression tight, almost exhausted. "Please," she added softly. "Please say something."

  "I can't take the risk," he said, forcing the words out. "She'll only remember tonight as a dream. Won't even know what she called you. But it doesn't matter. That feeling is already inside her. It's going to be hard enough having you leave as a friend. I can't risk her mother walking away."

  "I told you." Her words came out clipped, bordering on angry. "I'm not going to."

  "You say that now, but you're not even out of graduate school. Things change, Elena."

  "Don't you treat me like a child." The words snapped and crackled, alive with fury. "I'm not Olivia, dammit. And you need to stop looking for her around every corner. Brent, please," she added, her tone softening. "Don't deny yourself or Faith a relationship just because you're scared."

  A cold hand tightened around his heart, and his mouth went dry. But all he did was shake his head. "I think you need to go now."

  "Brent. Please."

  "I'm sorry. But you need to go."

  Elena didn't want to talk to anyone, much less Hannah or Selma, who were so happy with their men and had been so convinced that she'd find happiness with Brent.

  She had found it--and he'd tossed it all away. He thought he was protecting Faith; she knew that. But he wasn't. All he was doing was putting a Band-Aid over the wound Olivia had inflicted.

  He'd never find a woman he trusted to stay, mostly because he didn't believe anyone would stay. He'd been burned, and the only one who could make him get over it was him.

  Which was all very profound and reasonable, but what the hell was she supposed to do now? She loved him. Did she just walk away? Did she fight, even if fighting was futile?

  Did she keep crying into her pillow and watching sappy romances that left her bawling at the end?

  No, she told herself firmly, she did not.

  Instead she hauled her butt off the bed, then marched to the bathroom where she showered, brushed her teeth, and put on enough makeup to feel human again.

  Then she grabbed her purse and her car keys and headed for her parents' house.

  Of course, it wasn't them she wanted to see. She already knew that Tyree thought Brent was too old for her, and loaded with a bit of baggage called Faith. Her mom might have a different perspective, but Elena wasn't inclined to risk it.

  Still, it didn't matter. They were both at The Fix. Her mom was shooting Matthew and Griffin for the calendar, and her dad was there meeting with Easton about the eminent domain action.

  No, it wasn't them she wanted to see. She was looking for Eli. He might only be sixteen, but they'd had some long talks about their parents. He'd lost his mom when he was young, and they'd bonded over their shared blood and odd parental situations.

  He might not have advice, but he was a shoulder to cry on. And at that moment she was tired of crying on pillows.

  He was fortunately home, and when she'd called him from the car to give him the quick rundown, he'd told her to come on over.

  Now he pulled open the door just a few seconds after she rang the bell. "Wow," he said, "you said you felt like shit, and you look like it, too."

  "And to think that most of my life I didn't realize what I was missing by not having a little brother."

  He snorted, and she followed him inside. "I really am sorry," he said when they settled at the kitchen table. "I mean, breakups suck."

  "That they do."

  "So, what can I do?"

  "Honestly? I don't know. I just wanted someone to talk to. Which I did over the phone. Any brilliant advice come your way while I was making the drive over here?"

  "Yeah, but you're not gonna like it."

  "What?"

  "Talk to Dad. Nobody knows Brent better than he does except Jenna and Reece. So I guess that's my advice, too. Talk to them."

  She'd considered it, but she happened to know they were hard at work on the baby's room, and she hated to interrupt for her own relationship angst.

  "Then Dad's your best bet," Eli said, after she told him as much.

  "He'll just say that I was stupid to get involved with an older man."

  "Were you?"

  "No," she said indignantly. "Our ages aren't the problem. It's that bitch Olivia. She poisoned him."

  "So argue with Dad. He'll put up a fight, but he'll come around if you're right. And maybe he'll have some advice. Or at least you'll have another shoulder, right?"

  She couldn't help but smile.

  "Listen, I'm really sorry, but while you were on your way over, the hospital called. And you know that internship I've got? Well, they need me to come in because someone else called out sick."

  "Oh, yeah. Go. I don't want to hold you up."

  "You can hang for as long as you want. We've got cheesecake in the fridge. My mom always used to eat cheesecake when she was sad."

  "I think I would have liked your mom."

  "Yeah? Well, we're even then, because I like yours."

  "I got lucky in the little brother department," she said, giving him a hug.

  "Here's hoping you get lucky in the Brent department, too," he said, then headed for the door. "Talk to you later, okay?"

  "Sounds good. And thanks."

  And then, just like that, she was alone again, her thoughts once again on Brent and her longing and her inability to get even an ounce of reason through his thick skull.

  Damn the man.

  With a sigh, she headed for the fridge. She was about to undertake a little cheesecake therapy when she heard the key in the lock. Then the kitchen door opened and Tyree stepped in.

  "Ah, mon bijou. What a surprise. Oh, baby, no," he added when she burst into tears. "What's wrong?"

  "I don't want to talk about it. Where's Mom?"

  "She's shopping. You don't want to talk about it with me? Or you don't want to talk about it at all?"

  She peered at him through a liquid film, but didn't answer.

  "So it's about Brent, then. Well, I wouldn't want to talk about it with me, either."

  She lifted her head and sniffed noisily.

  He went to the pantry, opened the door, then pulled an apron off a hook. He handed it to her, and she took it out of reflex.

  "What--"

  "Come cook with me."

  "But--will it help?"

  "Is th
ere anything you can do right now to fix whatever happened between you two?"

  "No."

  "Is there anything you can tell me that will make it all feel better?"

  Again, she shook her head.

  "In that case, ma cherie, it seems that cooking's about the only thing we can do."

  She considered that, nodded, then tied the apron around her waist. It might not help, but it damn sure couldn't hurt. And right then, she really did want her dad.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brent had been living in a fog since Thursday, certain he'd done the right thing, and yet feeling that certainty buckle under his feet every time he thought of her and every time Faith asked when Elena would be coming over.

  Dammit, he knew what he knew. And what he knew was that he'd made the right decision.

  But if that was so, why did he feel so hollow? And why was he second-guessing himself in every quiet moment.

  And why did he keep picking up his phone to dial her number only to toss the damn thing away.

  Because he missed her. Plain and simple. He could admit it. It was true, after all.

  But just because he missed her didn't mean he should open his world to her. That he should risk Faith's stability and happiness.

  Doubts niggled at him, pushing at him in soft moments, filling his head when he was idle. So he tried not to be idle, and he was thankful when Saturday night rolled around and he could occupy himself with getting ready for the Food Fair while Faith stayed the night at Kyla's house.

  It was black tie, and as he tied his bowtie, he couldn't help but wonder what she was wearing.

  For that matter, he couldn't help but wonder if she was going.

  He hoped she was. If nothing else, he wanted to talk with her.

  He wanted it enough, actually, that he arrived fifteen minutes early, using his connection to The Fix to get inside. He heard her voice, then immediately felt his pulse kick up, but it was only the video of her and Tyree making lasagna rolls.

  He watched for a few moments, memorizing the features he already knew so well, remembering the sensation of her velvet skin against his fingers, her soft lips upon his neck. Elena.

  "Hello, Brent."

  His entire body tensed, and he stayed perfectly still, telling himself it was only his imagination. But he knew better, and he slowly turned around to face her.

  "Hello, Elena. You look lovely." She wore a long, almost sheer beaded gown that showed off her height and her lean figure.

  "You're not too bad yourself."

  He tried to speak, then had to try a second time as his mouth was too dry. "Can we talk?"

  "I guess that's up to you."

  He nodded. "I deserved that. But listen. I want--well, the truth is I miss you."

  He saw a spark in those lovely eyes.

  "And I wanted you to know that I still want to be friends."

  The spark dimmed. And his heart beat five times before she finally answered him.

  "I can't," she said. "I'm an all or nothing kind of woman, Brent. And the truth is that I love you. And I want it all. I suppose I should have said it before, but I'm telling you now. I love you," she repeated. "I'm certain of it. Desperately, hopelessly. And I'm sorry if the news makes you uncomfortable, but that's just the way it is." She drew a breath, and when she did, he remembered to breathe as well.

  She loved him.

  "I'm sorry if you don't love me, too, because I can't imagine finding anyone to fill my heart the way you and Faith do."

  You and Faith.

  It had just come out, but she meant it. He could tell. She wanted him. But she wanted the family, too. Faith wasn't an afterthought. The boyfriend's annoying attachment. She truly wanted the entire package.

  And, damn him, he was still too fucking scared to take the risk.

  "Brent?"

  His throat felt tight. "It really was good to see you," he said lamely.

  She held his eyes, and he saw tears well in hers. "Well. I guess. I guess I should go mingle."

  "Elena, wait--" But she'd faded back into the crowd. And he was left standing there feeling like he was a sixteen-year-old boy all over again.

  He wandered through the fair, only half looking at the lovely serving tables, and not even tasting the exquisite food. All he wanted was to find her. To tell her that he was an idiot.

  To tell her that now he was willing to take the risk.

  From across the room, Jenna made a beeline toward him. "You look like hell. Have you caught something?"

  "I think so. I'm going to head home."

  She pressed her palm to his forehead. "You're not warm, but that's probably a good idea. I hope it wasn't something you ate. I'd hate to think we're going to have an outbreak of food poisoning after this event."

  "I haven't eaten a bite."

  She looked so relieved he had to laugh. After a moment, she joined in. "Sorry," she said. "Just ... you know."

  "Yeah. I do. I'm looking for Elena," he said after a moment had passed.

  "Trouble in paradise?"

  He cocked his head. "You knew?"

  "Duh. And all I'm going to say now is that you two are perfect together. Take it under advisement."

  "Thanks for the tip."

  "And if you're looking for her, your best bet is Tyree."

  Since that made sense, he left her by a cake ball table and went in search of Tyree. He found him near the bar, a glass of scotch in one hand.

  "I had a long talk with my daughter recently," Tyree said without preamble. "And she says you make her happy. Since I've seen the way you two look at each other, I believe it. So why isn't she on your arm right now?"

  He started to say that Elena wasn't with him because he'd been an idiot, but before he could, Tyree continued.

  "I'll tell you why. Because you're living with the shadow of Olivia. But that woman was a terrible wife and a horrible mother. Maybe she was a bad person. I don't know. I never knew her that well. But I know she was weak. And don't you dare judge Elena next to her. Give the girl some credit. You think she's just going to abandon her dreams? No. But you're part of those dreams now. So she'll figure out a way to work all of her plans together. Better yet, you two can work it out together."

  "I'm older than she is." Brent said, his mood improving now that he knew Tyree had come around and now supported his plan to claim Elena.

  "You don't say."

  "That doesn't bother you?"

  "Turns out I'm not a key variable in this equation. The relevant question is, does it bother you?"

  "No."

  "There you go. She's always gonna be my little girl. But I know you, Brent. I know you better than most anybody except Reece and Jenna. And I couldn't ask for a better son-in-law. Or am I presuming?"

  Brent didn't even miss a beat. "No, sir," he said.

  "Then I think you have somewhere to be right now."

  "I would, if I knew where she was."

  "She went home," Tyree told him. "You go see her tonight. Tomorrow, we'll talk about this eminent domain bullshit."

  "Good. Because Landon and I've been--"

  "Sir?" A lanky man in a Winston Hotel uniform held out an envelope. "You're Tyree Johnson?"

  "Yes."

  "This arrived for you by messenger."

  "Thank you." Tyree tipped the man, then started to open the note.

  "I'll talk to you tomorrow," Brent said, assuming it was a love note from Eva setting up a tryst in one of the hotel rooms.

  "Wait." Tyree reached out and grabbed Brent's arm, his voice strangled.

  "What?" Fingers of dread crawled up his spine. "What happened?"

  Tyree didn't answer. Just handed him the note.

  We know how to get you where it hurts.

  Call off your bloodhounds and quit fighting the action. If not, it will be worse for her next time.

  Brent felt the blood drain from his face.

  "Elena," Tyree said.

  But Brent was already racing for his car, and Tyree
followed, right on his heels.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Faster," Tyree yelled as Brent floored the Volvo while shouting at Landon over the car's speakerphone system.

  "I've got two black and whites racing to her apartment," Landon said. "And I've put out a call that you not be pulled over. She'll be fine, you two. Just hang in there."

  Brent nodded. He knew she would be. Any other reality was unacceptable. "I was right about Bodacious," he said. "And damn me, I could have nailed the bastard days ago if I'd only made the connection when the Center cut Elena loose."

  "I'll follow up whatever lead you want, but you're going to have to run that one by me more slowly."

  "The Fix is a prime location, right? And the folks from Bodacious have been trying to get their hands on it for ages. That's why Ted Henry called Tyree's loan," Brent said, referring to the man who'd lent Tyree the money to open the bar, then later invested heavily in the corporation that owned Bodacious. "He wanted Tyree to default so he could foreclose on the property."

  Ted Henry was actually the impetus behind the Man of the Month contest. Tyree needed cash to pay off the note, so Reece and Brent invested. But Tyree insisted the bar be in the black and debt free by the end of the year. And Jenna had come up with the brilliant--and lucrative--idea of the contest to increase revenue.

  "So even though Ted Henry was out of luck, the folks from Bodacious just kept trying. Stiff competition. Poaching employees. Graffiti. Vandalism. But nothing worked. They didn't shake Tyree from The Fix at all."

  "And then someone must have realized that if they couldn't get the property, then getting it away from Tyree was the next best thing," Landon said, picking up the thread.

  "How does this fit in with Elena?" Tyree asked.

  "Someone from Bodacious must be involved with the Center," Brent said. "And when they set the plan in motion they didn't realize who she was--your daughter, I mean. Obviously, she had to go before she put two and two together."

  "We find the person with a link to the Center and to Bodacious, and we have our perp," Landon said. "I'm on it."

  "We have more," Brent added. "I doubt they realize her apartment has security cameras. Pull the feed, and I bet you have a face."

  "On that, too," Landon said. "You two just focus on Elena."

  "That's the plan," Brent said. "After all, I'm not a cop anymore."