Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) (14 page)

BOOK: Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat)
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He loved this
woman.
God, how he loved her.
He loved Keefer, even,
and he loved the unique bond that the three of them had formed. And he’d be
damned if he’d do anything to fuck that up. Including seeing her in prison.

Jager rose and
approached her. He held her face in the palm of one hand and brushed the tear
away with his thumb. “What is it, baby? What mistakes? What truths?”

She eased
herself into his arms. Her body trembled. He heard her sniffle as she held out
one hand. “Keefer, please, I need you, too.”

Keefer was there
in a second, and wound his warm, powerful arms around them both. Anjelee sighed
and burrowed deep within the protection of strong muscles and firm chests. Awe
filled Jager’s soul. The two of them embraced Jager, and Jager encircled them
with his arms, too, while Anjelee clung to the two men who cared deeply for
her. Hell, yes.
This was it
,
this
was his life
. It couldn’t be any other way. He wouldn’t allow it. He
would do whatever he had to do, to strengthen this amazing relationship and
keep the three of them together.

“I-I
don’t
know where to start. Huh.” She snorted and untangled
herself from their embrace. She folded her arms and perched her ass on the
windowsill. “Probably the beginning would be best, ya think?”

“Probably true,”
Keefer said gently before he swiped a stray hair from her cheek.

Jager dragged a
kiss over her lips. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

She forced a
small smile, but held back the glitter of tears pooled in the corners of her
eyes. “Okay. Well. It really started back around thirteen years or so ago, but
I’ll get to that in a minute. The thing that dredged up those years in the past
was my little sister, Ali, getting sick.”

“You mean the
kidney infections,” Keefer said with a nod.

“Yes and no. It
started off that way, but she’s since progressed to chronic kidney disease.”
Anjelee slid down the windowsill and sat on the floor. She peered up at them
and the tears fell, pearl after pearl of sadness and relief. “It was the tens
of thousands of dollars worth of bills racked up from the initial kidney
stones, hospitalizations, infections and blood work the doctors kept drawing,
that motivated me to take the photography job. I went to Kabana, Hawaii, to
help pay off those bills. But the job itself didn’t pay enough. I...I-I lost my
way with that first bribery, I admit, and I’m so sorry. But you’ve got to
understand it was out of love and desperation and worry for my sister’s life,
and for Mom, who’d already lost everything she owned to pay for Ali’s
treatments.”

Jager kneeled on
the floor and took her hand. “Anj, all you had to do was tell me. We could have
worked something out.”

“And me, too.”
Keefer squatted on his haunches and took her other hand. He kissed her palm. “I
was right there. I knew Ali was sick. You just didn’t tell me how sick. Speak
up—it was all you had to do.”

“No
..
.
no
, it’s not that easy. She went
into chronic renal failure, needed dialysis at least three times a week. She’s
starting to show pre-cancerous cells. Her left one is the bad one.” She covered
her face and sobbed. “Holy God above, she’s going to die if we don’t find her a
kidney.”

Keefer leaped to
his feet. He looked down on Anjelee. “Damn it, why didn’t you tell me? I don’t
need two kidneys. She can have one of mine.”

“Me, too,” Jager
said. He stood and pulled her to a standing position. “C’mon. Let’s get to the
hospital, the doctor, wherever we need to be to get this handled.”

More moisture
pooled in her eyes, and it caused something to swell inside Jager’s heart.

“Y-you can’t
just go hand over a kidney. You have to be tested to see if you’re a match.
There’re different blood types or presence of antibodies that could attack the
kidney or the system of the receiver, so it’s a really delicate, technical process
in finding a match. Blood relatives are the highest probable matches,
statistically. But Mom and I aren’t matches. And we have no other family...at
least I didn’t think we did at first.” She held up a finger. “Let me amend that
since I’m being all totally honest and stuff. Mom knew of Ali’s father, which
is that big secret I’ve been eluding to.”

“Ah, The Big-ass
Secret,” Keefer said with a faint chuckle.

“The one you
swore to your mom that you wouldn’t tell anyone?”

Anjelee pressed
a hand to her belly. “Yes, that one. Aw, crap, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Sit down,”
Jager suggested. He guided her to the sofa, pushed until she sat down. “Take a
big breath. Just let it out.”

She bit her lip.
“Uh, I think it’s you who should sit down.”

Jager raised a
brow. “Huh?”

“Just do it,
dude.” Keefer planted his hands on Jager’s chest and pushed him until the backs
of his knees hit the couch.

Jager plopped
down in obedience next to Anjelee. “Okay. I don’t understand, but I’m ready.”

Anjelee switched
around and took a spot on the coffee table facing Jager. Keefer stood behind
her and massaged her shoulders. She inhaled, blew it out. “Mom and I lived in
Kansas like thirteen, fourteen years ago. She was a single mom, raising me,
brat that I was.” She gave a sheepish grin that made Jager’s pulse skip. He
could just imagine her as a teenaged hell-raiser.

“Anyway, she met
a local man, fell in love, got pregnant. That was my kid sister, Ali. She was
such a fun baby. She brought Mom and I so much joy. But her father...he wouldn’t
claim her. Mom told him about her good news, he told her to fuck off
because—now, wait for it—he was married. Haha, surprise, surprise.
Men are such
asses
.”

“Hey, not all of
us.” Jager rubbed her leg.

“That remains to
be seen.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and it felt so good to see the
bubbliness of her humor returning.

“So, he didn’t
want a thing to do with Mom or his baby,” she went on, wobbling her head,
“yada, fada, nada. Yeah, old story, new day, he wanted to stay with his wife
and their son. ‘This affair was all a huge mistake,’ he told Mom.”

“What a
bastard,” Jager said.

“That son of a
bitch,” Keefer agreed, and he gave Anjelee a few extra shoulder squeezes.

Jager lounged
into the couch and crossed an ankle over a knee. She looked so vulnerable from
where Jager sat, with Keefer looming behind her. “All right, well, I’m
following you so far, but I still don’t see what this all has to do with...you
know, your second...bribery.”

She waved a hand
in his face. “Hold your ponies, I’m not done yet.”

Jager couldn’t
help but laugh. “Ex
cuse
me.”

“Shh. Now here’s
the kicker. Mom had tried to contact this man when the bills started piling
up—that was before I went to Hawaii and shot Wulfrum’s wedding. Of
course, she didn’t hear a word from the asshole. But after I returned, Mom got
a letter. Yep, it was from Ali’s father’s
wife
.
It said her husband had passed away, and she even enclosed an obituary clipping
from the newspaper.”

“Whoa.”

“Whoa’s right.
Mom was a nut case. In spite of him turning his back on her and Ali, she still
loved him. She was devastated to hear of his passing. But there’s still
more...”

Jager slapped
his forehead. “Damn, this is like watching a thriller when they cut to a
commercial. Would you get to the point?”

Her gaze held
his for a long moment. She gripped Keefer’s hand on her shoulder and reached
for Jager’s. Her hand felt small and clammy in his. He cupped it with both of
his hands.

“I’m sorry,”
Jager said, “I didn’t mean to sound so...impatient. It’s just...”

“I know, I
know.” She gave his hand a reassuring pinch. “I understand.”

She took a deep
breath and guided Keefer around so he sat on the sofa next to Jager. The
triangle, the position, it all seemed so right to Jager: The two men,
side-by-side, facing their woman, focusing on just her.

“All right, so
let me get back to that kicker.” She planted both hands behind her and propped
herself on the coffee table, her small breasts thrusting upward.

“So the only
other person who could have been a possible kidney donor had keeled over. Only
Mom confessed something to me when I got back from Hawaii...”

By now, Jager
knew he’d get the answer if he didn’t respond. He heard a clock tick somewhere,
though he didn’t see one anywhere in her apartment. It seemed seconds dragged
into minutes before she finally dropped the bomb.

“Come to find
out, Mom’s lover had been Mitch Wulfrum’s father—Wulfrum being Mitch’s
stage name, not his real Kansas name. So ‘Mitch Wulfrum’ and my sister, Ali,
are half bro and sis. And
that
is why
I got so desperate and sent that second email before running off to Karibu with
Keefer. Because Mom demanded—no, swore—she’d never speak to me
again if I approached Mitch to ask for any inheritance he might have received
from his dad. Actually, it could
kinda
be seen as
rightful child support Ali’s father should have been paying all those years. So
see, it might be a bit convoluted, but I was trying to get Mitch’s father’s
money via Mitch without risking leaking the whole saga to the media, which is
what Mom didn’t want. And definitely what Wulfrum didn’t want.”

Jager stared
wide-eyed. He was speechless. Mitch’s father did pass away shortly after
Mitch’s wedding.

“You don’t
believe me?” Anjelee asked, her tone high with offense.

“No, I-I didn’t
say that I...”

She bent down,
reached between her legs and located a photo album on the bottom shelf of the
coffee table. Her hands shook as she flipped through the pages. She stopped on
one, spun the book around and tapped a yellowed picture beneath the page’s
stiff, clear cellophane page. “See this couple all wrapped up in each other?
That’s my mom. That was when we lived in Kansas—and so did Mitch and his
family. That man?” She clicked a nail on none other than a younger version of
the man Jager had known...Mitch’s dad. “He’s Mitch’s father. I was still in
high school. I took that snapshot with my Journalism camera.”

Jager swallowed.
When he could finally croak out a response, it was just, “Well, I’ll be a
motherfucker.”

Chapter Ten

 

“Damn it,” Mitch
growled, shifting his stance and thrusting a hand through his sun-streaked
hair. “What the hell’s going on here? You’ve blackmailed me once, then a second
time, threatening to tear my career and my world apart. Now you’ve dragged me
here to an L.A. hospital—and I don’t even know you people. What did I
ever do to deserve this?”

“Anj.” Jager
said it with harshness only to get her attention when she flinched as if ready
to attack Mitch. The bomb was about to drop, and he knew she had it in her to make
it a whopper, but she wouldn’t do it the crass way this time. He knew now he’d
been looking at the Anjelee Montrose picture through the wrong lens all along.
She was smart and cunning, but deep down, she wasn’t
heartless
as he’d originally thought. He could see it in the love and affection that
poured from her eyes when she looked at her mother, Vivien, and he’d felt it
firsthand in her arms in Karibu. This bomb was going to be an explosive one for
Mitch, yet Jager was even more certain it was going to clear the path to
everyone’s happiness and unveil a vulnerable Anjelee that would send him
reeling all over again.

Anjelee jerked
her head around and snapped, “What?”

They all stood
in front of the tall windows in a private conference room they’d set up through
hospital security. Jager stepped over and set his hand on Anjelee’s fragile
spine. She wore an
off-the-shoulder
, silky little
orange shirt and low-slung, faded jeans, her skin cool to the touch, her
compact body trembling like a frightened little puppy beneath his touch.

“It’ll be okay,
babe. Just say it. Get it over with. Mitch can’t go on this way any longer.
Hell, we all can’t go on like this anymore.”

“Easy for you to
say,” Mitch grumbled. Then he paused and blinked. “And what the hell’s this
‘babe’ stuff?”

Anjelee and Jager
both ignored his question. It was rare to see her practically speechless. Jager
would’ve chuckled over that at any other time. Not now. There was nothing funny
in the tension that crackled in the air.

Jager stifled
the impulse and instead said, “I have a feeling, Mitch,
you’ll
change your tune very soon. Now, Anj, out with it.”

She drew in a
shaky breath. “F-first, I want you to have these.” She reached over and patted
her laptop where it sat on the conference table, along with an external
computer storage drive and a piece of paper. “All of the...private photos I
took of you, your wife, and Kol, are stored on either this computer, or on this
jump drive. Plus, the login to the email account I used to send copies to
myself is written down here. You can either change the password, or delete the
account yourself just so you know it’s done. I promise you, this is where it
ends. I’m very sorry for any pain, aggravation or funds I’ve caused you. B-but,
I-I
want
you to know I did everything out of love for
my family. I didn’t mean t-to hurt anyone. Really, I didn’t. But you see, Mom
had a—”

Vivien Montrose
reached for her daughter’s hand. “Honey, it’s okay. I’ll tell him everything.
You just relax.”

“Y-you sure?”

Lines deepened
around Vivien’s tired green eyes. They lacked Anjelee’s youth, but they were
nearly identical. “Very sure.”

Mitch shifted
his stance. His body language spoke tension, but he remained silent.

Anjelee held
Jager’s gaze, then moved to lock with Keefer’s tender stare. Her eyes filled up
like rain puddled on brilliant summer leaves. Her bottom lip quivered, the new
ring piercing near the corner of her mouth glinting by the sunrays pouring in
through the slats of the conference room blinds. She swallowed audibly. Her
little Adam’s apple rose and fell along that small neck he’d once longed to
choke.
But not anymore.
Now he had an almost
unbearable urge to take her in his arms and kiss every inch of her neck, her
delicate shoulders, her firm belly.

Vivien smiled
with melancholy and brushed her hand along Anjelee’s jaw. She glanced toward
Mitch. “You know, she was such a good girl. Really, she was. Smart, studious
and introverted, and even though she had this wholesome beauty that should have
been the camera’s focus, she loved to be behind her camera, taking pictures of
sunsets and butterflies. And me.”

“Momma…”

Vivien held a
finger to Anj’s lips. “Shh, sweetie. Remember, this is my tale.”

Anjelee nodded.
Moisture trickled down her cheeks. She swiped at them impatiently, avoiding
Jager’s gaze. Keefer approached her from behind and massaged her shoulders.
Always the quiet, supportive comforter.

Jager conjured
up an image of Anjelee as a teenager. He imagined her as a wild troublemaker
with a seat in the principal’s office with her name on it. He didn’t see her as
the squeaky-clean cheerleader type by any means. Instead she would’ve been the
outspoken, sexy groupie who followed the football and wrestling teams around,
cheering and supporting whichever boy she happened to be captivated by at the
moment. She would’ve been a trend-starter, sporting a color-of-the-week in
hair, and wearing the lowest in necklines and the highest in hems in grown-up
fashions.

“Oh, God, no.”
Mitch held his head in his hands.
His breathing went shallow
,
his mouth gaped
. “Don’t tell me you’re going to make
her out to be this innocent woman who’s always gotten the short end of the
stick?”

“No, I’m not.
I’m just going to tell you the truth.”

Mitch leaned
against the wide windowsill, folded his arms over his chest and crossed one
ankle over the other. “Well. I’m waiting. In fact,” he said as he glanced at
his Rolex watch and then at Jager, “I’ve been waiting way too long. I’ve got a
schedule to adhere to. Which you, Jager, should already know.”

Vivien shrugged
her frail shoulders and held out her hands in surrender. “Okay. You want it
now,
I’ll give it to you now. Your father was my lover about
fourteen years ago. We had a baby—that’s your little sister,
Ali—and she’s here in this hospital. She needs a kidney transplant. Blood
relatives are the closest
match
. Anjelee and I aren’t
matches, and we don’t have any other family...”

“What?” He
lowered his head and laughed hollowly. “Do you know how many people have
claimed to’ve had my babies—and my dad’s?
That’s
what this has all been about?”

“I’m sorry.”
Vivien said it firmly and raised her jaw. “I don’t want to put your late father
in a bad light, but it’s the truth. Ali
is
your sister. He knew, but he refused to acknowledge it, especially after you
attained your stardom. I always understood he didn’t want to upset your mother
or tarnish your reputation as a Hollywood star. I wanted to give him his space
and allow him to go on as if I’d never existed. But…” She choked on her words.
“Ali. She’s dying now.”

“What?” Mitch’s
voice held a conglomeration of betrayal and disbelief.

A lengthy
silence engulfed the room until Anjelee stomped across the room. Jager decided
to let her go. Though her body was petite, she exuded enormity and a strength
that Jager couldn’t help but admire. Her unique magnificence coupled with her
spunk made for an irresistible package. He studied her white-knuckled fists,
ran his gaze up and down the smooth flesh of her arms, remembering the
innocence of her bedroom embraces despite the passion that drove her to
kinkiness.

His chest
fluttered. He visually caressed her delicate profile, ran his gaze down the
length of her colorful, silky hair. He longed to take her in his arms right
this second and soothe the pain that oozed from her rigid body. He wanted to
touch them both every day, to wake up to her husky voice and Keefer’s manly one
whispering in his ears. Together. Forever.

I’m so in love with them.

His head reeled
with the thought, but it wasn’t exactly the best time to act on it. Anjelee was
about to have one of her
meltdowns,
only he could
sense this one was going to be a doozy, one the likes of which Jager had yet to
see. It was fueled by her love for her sister and her mother, and her outrage
at the man, Mitch’s father, who’d played a huge absent role in their current situation,
even before his death.

She trembled
with rage and sorrow and sobs. “Is that all you can say? ‘What’? She’s
dying—your sister! My sister!
Your.
Father’s.
Daughter
.
She’s only thirteen and she’s dying, Mitch. Your father wouldn’t acknowledge her.
And he wouldn’t even contribute to the huge medical bills we’ve incurred. I
insisted Mom make a stink, take it to the media, but somehow, I don’t know how,
she still loved your dad. Oooh, if I could’ve just gotten my hands around his
neck, why I’d’ve…”

She started to
launch herself at Mitch.

Mitch flinched.

“Anj.” Holy
shit.
A meltdown, but rightly so.
Jager caught her
just before she bolted out of reach. He wrapped his arms around her from
behind. Keefer stepped up and stood at attention at her side making it known he
also supported her, but wouldn’t allow the assault.

Jager held her
flailing body, fending off kicks and swinging punches. Her shouts he could do
nothing about.

“Shh, shh, Anj,”
Keefer whispered. “Don’t want the whole hospital to hear the conversation.”

Anjelee went
limp and wept. Vivien crossed the room and patted Anjelee’s back while she
remained in Jager’s arms.

Mitch didn’t say
a word. He just stared agog between Vivien and Anjelee.

Truly, none of
this was Mitch’s doing—he’d been a victim of his father’s denial of an
illegitimate child, too. But could Jager really blame Anjelee or Vivien,
either? They were desperate and they hadn’t gotten help from the rightful
source...who happened to be dead now. It was either obtain Mitch’s father’s
money in a roundabout way through Mitch, or bring public scandal upon Mitch by
dragging his mother and a sister he hadn’t even known he had, into the public
eye.

“Anj, honey,
don’t, please…” Vivien’s wet eyes gleamed. She reached for Anjelee’s hand and
tried to tug her out of Jager’s arms, but Anjelee jerked her fingers free and
barreled on instead.

“No, Mom, this
finally needs to be resolved.” To Mitch she said, “Look, here’s the deal. Ali
needs a new kidney, but
me and Mom
aren’t a match, so
we’ve got her on the donor registry. But with all the other bills and dialysis
charges that have been piling up this last year, we don’t know how we’re going
to pay for the transplant surgery—if they can even find a freaking match
for her.
So far, no luck.
No matches in the database,
to date. And guess what else, Mitch?”

He swallowed,
his aqua eyes huge and wary. “What?”

“Your father
refused to even be tested to see if he was a match. He wouldn’t come and see
her, and he wouldn’t take our calls pleading with him to please at least try to
save his daughter’s life. He said he couldn’t afford the publicity it might
cause his movie-star son,” Anjelee sneered.

It took a while,
maybe a few minutes, for Mitch to finally blow out a breath and drop into a
nearby chair. “I-I
don’t
know what to say.”

Vivien dug into
her purse and drew out a photograph. “How about you just listen and look for
now?” She kneeled at Mitch’s feet, the picture pressed to her ample breast.

Mitch stared
straight ahead, his gaze avoiding her, but he nodded.

She cupped his
face and guided it toward her so he had no choice but to look at her. Her eyes
devoured him, her smile warm and gentle. “I can see some of him in you, you
know. It’s been hard seeing your face up there on the big movie screen, knowing
his blood flowed in you.”

“I...I...”

Vivien held the
photo up for Mitch to
see,
then took one of his hands
and closed his fingers over the snapshot. She pointed at it as he held it.
“This is Ali before she got sick. She looks just like her big brother.”

Mitch’s hand
trembled. He stared at the picture. It was surreal, just like a scene in one of
his movies.

“Y-your right,
she does look very much like me.” He traced Ali’s face. “She’s...she’s really
my—? Whew. Wow. This...this is really hard to soak in.”

Vivien patted
his knee. “I know. I know.”

“I’m…I’m really
sorry, f-for him, I mean. H-he always had his faults, but I never dreamed he’d
had an affair, much less had a daughter he denied, and worse, one he refused to
donate a kidney to. If I’d have known sooner, I swear…” He choked on his last
words, and moisture filled his eyes. He drew Vivien into his arms and they
cried together for a long moment.

“Hush, hush now.
It’s not your fault, honey,” Vivien finally assured him, and reached up and twined
her fingers in one of his hands while he continued to hug her shoulders. “And
even though we’ve sort of turned it into your responsibility and made a
gigantic mess of things, it’s really not your problem. I would be devastated,
but I would understand if you walked away.”

BOOK: Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat)
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