Anything but Mine (4 page)

She made a grab for the phone and he held her off. “Helen? Damn it, baby, talk to me. I want to know where you are…son of a bitch!” He punched the power button and threw the phone on their father’s couch with a savage motion. “Where is she?”

Autry matched him glare for glare. “I don’t know. We didn’t get that far.”

“Shit.” He jerked a hand over his short hair, a shade darker than her own. A hint of stale alcohol clung to him and the constant drinking coupled with too little food gave his features a sallow, sunken look. “I have a right to know where my wife and kids are.”

She didn’t bother to point out Helen wasn’t his wife anymore, hadn’t been since the papers had gone through without his signature six months before. “What you have is a duty to support those children.”

He snorted. “Who asked you?”

Folding the damp towel, she walked toward the kitchen, her injured foot aching. She wasn’t here to argue with him. Trying to discuss anything with him was pointless, just like dealing with Mama when she got on a tear. “Nobody. Do what you want, Nate, you always do.”

His heavy footsteps thudded on the polished hardwood floor. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” She tossed the dishcloth in the laundry room. “And even if I did, I probably wouldn’t tell you.”

“Uppity bitch.”

Turning, she stepped right into the blow. The force knocked her against the doorframe and she staggered, holding the thick wood for support. A weird combination of light and dark exploded behind her eyes, pain radiating across her face. Cradling her aching cheek and jaw, she crouched and stared up at her brother’s dazed expression.

He swallowed, throat moving, and shook his head, staring at his hand as though it belonged to someone else. He lifted stunned eyes, the same shade of dark blue as her own, to look at her. “Autry, I…I didn’t mean to—”

“Get away from me.” That cold voice couldn’t be hers. She’d heard rapists, murderers, use that voice. She didn’t move, using her curled position to protect her baby.

“Sister, I—”

“I mean it. Get away from me.”

He backed up a step and turned, muttering a shaky curse. Eyeing him, Autry straightened and scrambled toward the side door. She fumbled for the lock, finally managing to free it. Letting the door flop against the wall, she hurried to the front steps and to the safety of her car.

Locked inside, she struggled to get the key in the ignition. Her chest heaved with uneven breaths and the nausea crowded her throat. God, he’d hit her. He’d
hit
her. Her own brother. She’d been disgusted by him before—he’d even stolen from her to support his drinking habit—but she’d never been afraid of him.

She was now.

What if he hadn’t stopped with the one blow?

With tears blurring her vision, she finally got the car started. Gulping back a tearing sob, the entire left side of her face throbbing, she backed out of the drive. Could her intruder have been Nate? Had he planned to steal from her again?

Everything was too much—the notes, the break-in, Schaefer, Stanton and now Nate. She let the tears go, let them have their way, until she couldn’t breathe. Finally, she pulled to the shoulder to get herself together. Forehead against the steering wheel, she sobbed out the fear and anger, let all the hurt come to the surface. She fumbled in her purse for a tissue, gave up, and scrubbed at her wet face with her fingers.

The hard tap on her window sent her heart into overdrive again and she jerked her head up, blood rushing through her ears, vision clouding for a moment. The tall figure standing outside her car kept her heart racing but for an entirely different reason. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped out.

Stanton towered over her, blocking the late evening sun. Chin tilted at a defiant angle, she looked up at him.

His first reaction was a harsh indrawn breath. “What the hell…” He curved gentle fingers along her jaw. “Autry, what happened?”

She closed her eyes. The warmth of his touch soothed the stinging somewhat and she didn’t pull away. “Nate happened.”

“He hit you?”

The disbelief in his words she completely understood. She was still trying to convince herself he’d actually done it. Even with all the issues and the alcohol, he was her brother, her baby brother. Gulping back a fresh sob, she nodded.

“Son of a bitch.” Stanton’s features hardened, his lips fading to a nonexistent line. “Tell me from the beginning.”

Fighting the weak tears, she did. While she stammered out the story, he smoothed her hair from her face, his gaze steady on her cheek and jaw. “We need to get some ice on that. I’ll call Tick, have him pick Nate up—”

“I’m not pressing charges.” She straightened, dislodging his gentle touch. Lord, she could just imagine her mother’s reaction if she had Nate arrested.

“You don’t have to, but I want him to answer some questions, like where he was last night when someone tried to break into your house.”

“You don’t think…” Her voice, sounding absurdly small, trailed away. Having those suspicions was one thing. Knowing Stanton shared them was something else entirely. “The notes too? Stan, he wouldn’t. Would he? What would he gain from trying to scare me?”

He shrugged, a tight, uncomfortable roll of his broad shoulders. “I won’t know until we question him.”

She rubbed a hand over her eyes, unable to tell him how much worse the whole mess would be if it turned out to be Nate. Her mother’s baby, locked away for making terroristic threats. Autry would be banned from home for life, or at least suffer a maternal cold shoulder for an extended period.

“Autry?” Stanton took her wrist in a gentle grasp and pulled her hand from her face. She sighed, and when she looked up into hazel eyes holding a tenderness she hadn’t seen from him in months, she wanted to cry again. Lord, she’d turned into a crybaby lately, but maybe, just maybe she deserved it. He rubbed his thumb over her hand. “You need to ice that jaw and we need to talk.”

“I know.” She sucked in a shaky breath and fixed him with a stern look. “But you have to promise not to propose again.”

His rare genuine chuckle rose between them. “Not tonight anyway.” He leaned around her and opened the car door. “I’ll follow you. Your place or mine?”

She didn’t want to be in his home, where memories of them lurked everywhere, remembrances of what they’d never be again. The only reason he wanted anything to do with her now was the baby. Biting her lip to stop its trembling, she looked up at him. “Mine.”

“Hey, Roger, I’m 10-7.” Glad to finally be calling “out of service”, Tick paused at the dispatch room’s entrance. Holy hell, he was tired. Used to be a double shift was nothing. Maybe he was getting old. A grin tugged at his mouth. Or maybe the double shift wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend half the night acting like the newlywed he was.

Roger thrust a pink message slip at him. “Sheriff wants you to call him.”

Tick’s grin died. Somehow, he knew whatever Stanton wanted would mean he was going 10-8, in service, again. “Thanks.”

He tugged his cell phone from its clip on his way up the stairs. The message slip bore Autry Holton’s home number instead of Stanton’s cell. Now, that was interesting. Telling, maybe.

Settling into his squeaking desk chair, he punched in the digits. Autry picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

Tears thickened her familiar voice and he frowned. “Autry, it’s Tick. I had a message to call Stanton at your place. Everything okay?”

“Sure. Everything’s fine. I just walked in the door, but Stanton’s right behind me. Hang on.”

She whispered, “It’s for you.”

In the background, Tick caught the clatter of a phone changing hands. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, a slow smolder of anger coming to life in his chest. Crying easily had never been in Autry’s nature, not even when she’d been a little kid, tagging after Tick and his brothers. Damn Stanton’s hide for getting involved with her in the first place. Tick had tried to tell him at the beginning that Autry was a woman interested in long-term commitment—not the one for his gun-shy ex-partner-turned-boss.

He struggled to smother the sense of resentment toward Stanton, the bitterness that rose way too easily these days, looking for any excuse.

“Tick?” The natural authority of Stanton’s voice rumbled in his ear and Tick bristled.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, now gritty and stinging with lack of sleep. “What do you need?”

“Go have a talk with Nate Holton.”

Tick dropped his hand. “Why?”

“I want to know where he was last night.” Stanton’s voice hardened. “And if he had anything to do with those notes.”

Delegating was one thing, but some things Tick figured Stanton could handle himself. “Then why aren’t you talking to him?”

A pause hovered. “There are some things Autry and I need to talk about.”

“Things?” Tick let the antagonism trickle into his own voice. “Is that why she’s crying?”

“Nate hit her.”

“What?” His anger blazed deeper, hotter. That little son of a bitch. He didn’t have Helen for a target anymore, so he was turning on his sister?

“Seems Helen called the Holton place while Autry was there. Nate wanted Autry to tell him where Helen was, and when she wouldn’t, he popped her in the jaw.”

“Damn. Want me to arrest him or just put the fear of God in him?”

“Autry says she’s not pressing charges, and we don’t have enough to hold him on the attempted break-in yet. Have Williams over at the GBI lab pull his prints, see if they match up to that partial you took.”

“Will do.” The line went dead and Tick returned the cell to his belt. He grabbed the keys to his truck and jogged from the office. As bad as he hated to admit it, he was looking forward to this little conversation.

Nate Holton had had this one coming for a long time.

Desperate for something to occupy her hands and to provide an excuse not to look at Stanton, Autry pulled open the pantry. “Are you hungry? I could fix us something—”

“I’m fine.” He reached an arm around her and closed the cabinet door. With a gentle hand on her shoulder, he spun her to face him. “You need to put something on that bruise.”

She laid a cautious finger against her cheek. Her lower cheekbone still felt as though it was going to explode. “I will. It’s really not necessary for you to stay.”

He cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Yeah, Autry, it is. We’ve got a lot to talk about. The baby. Us.”

“There’s not an us.” Palms raised, she retreated, until her back met the unyielding cabinet door. “Stanton, you promised you wouldn’t propose again. I’m serious about this. I will not marry you because you feel obligated.”

“Finished?” He rested a hand on either side of her neck and smiled down at her.

“No, I’m not. I cannot believe you think I’d stoop to that kind of marriage, especially after…after…” She swallowed hard, her stomach lifting to a sweet flutter under that grin. “Stop smiling at me like that.”

“Like what?” He leaned an inch closer, his smile widening.

She folded her arms over her chest, T-shirt pulling taut across the tiny bulge of their child. “Like I’m a suspect and you’re holding the evidence to put me away.”

His gaze dropped to her stomach and his smile slipped. He recovered quickly, lifting his eyes to hers again. The long muscles of his throat moved. “Autry, I think the best solution is for you to move in with me.”

Stanton winced. “No. And you don’t have to raise your voice. It makes perfect sense.”

“To a crazy person. And believe me, buster, I’m not raising my voice, not yet anyway.” Autry threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. “Move in with you? No. Absolutely not.”

He was making a mess of this already. With a rough breath, he slid his hold from her chin to cradle her nape. “Autry, come on. I want you and the baby safe. Come stay with me until we get everything with the threats and the break-in sorted out. You can have the extra bedroom.” He smiled, rubbing the velvet skin below the softness of her hair. Palpable tension resided in the muscles there, and he wanted to make it better, make the fear and the worries go away for her. “Completely platonic. No pressure.”

Her lips parted and she shook her head, dislodging his easy touch. “You really have lost your mind. Us? Platonic? Do you really not remember what it was like between us?”

Considering he’d been trying to forget for four months? Hell, he’d dreamed about her. “I remember.”

She tightened her arms, resting atop the swell of their child. His throat closed. That was his baby. His and Autry’s—a mind-boggling, too-pleasant idea. She blew out a breath, a sarcastic puff. “And you think we can live together without going there again?”

He leaned closer and the sharp scent of her cotton-blossom lotion filled his senses. “Okay, so maybe not platonically.”

“You’re unbelievable.” She placed her palms against his chest and pushed. Stanton planted his feet. His chest burned from the simple contact, made him want to pull her closer. “First you assume I’ll agree to marry you just because I’m pregnant. Then you ask me to live with you, all blasé about the whole thing. Well, I have news for you, Sheriff Reed. I don’t
need
you. I’ve made it just fine this far without you—”

“Were you fine last night?” At his words, her face paled and a flash of self-hatred streaked through him. But this was his child, his last chance, they were talking about here, and he’d do whatever necessary. “What if he comes back, out of nowhere? Will you be fine then?”

“You bastard.” She closed her eyes, her skin whitening further. When she opened them, the blue depths blazed. “You don’t play fair, Reed.”

“Not when we’re talking about my child.” Not when they were talking about her. He’d spent the day dealing with flashes of what could have happened the night before, if he hadn’t been in time. Damn it, he wanted her safe, and he could do that. Was that too much to ask? He cradled the sides of her stomach, her shaky sigh traveling up his arms. “Our child. I’m not putting it or you at risk with this guy out there.”

She sagged, exhaustion constricting her mouth. “So it’s all about safety, huh? A few days or weeks until you catch the guy. If I fall into bed with you, that’s just a fringe benefit.”

“That’s not it at all. Listen to me.” Resting his hands on either side of her again, he leaned in and held her gaze. He had to get this right. He had too much to lose. Something else had been flashing in his head all day—how damn lonely he’d been without her the last few weeks. “Yes, I want you and the baby safe. Absolutely. But I want a chance too. A chance to be the father this baby needs and deserves. To be…” He swallowed. “The man you deserve. Give me a couple of months. Move in with me. Or let me move in here, at least until we do catch this guy.”

“Lord, you’re crazy. I’m crazy for even considering it.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “What is us living together supposed to prove, anyway?”

He slipped his hands up to frame her face, being careful of the darkening bruise on her cheek and jaw. Fury at Nate trembled in him again and he was vigilant to keep it out of his voice. “That we can make this work. We can, Autry. You know we’d be good together. Don’t you think we should at least try? Our baby deserves that much.”

She flexed her fingers against his chest, curling them into his shirt. “I don’t know. I’m just…there’s too much going on right now and you—”

“Can make some of it better.” He muttered the words near her temple, inhaling her unique scent. He could make up for being stupid enough to let his fear convince him to let her go and too proud to crawl back to her. Arousal tingled to life low in him and he nuzzled her ear, aware of her quick intake of breath. “Let me, Autry. I’ll take care of you, keep you safe.”

She turned her head, lips whispering against his. “What about Schaefer?”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, slid his hands to her rounded waist. “Schaefer who?” He moved his lips over hers, tasting, teasing, tantalizing. “All I care about right now is you, me and the baby. We’ll work everything else out later.” He kissed her again and she flicked her tongue across his lips, into his mouth. He groaned. God, he’d missed her, missed the way she softened the edges of his life with her laughter and sauciness. “Say yes, Autry.”

“A month,” she murmured against his mouth and he resisted a smile. So like her to start adding clauses to an agreement. Always the lawyer. But he could work with a month. He’d solved major cases in less time. “That’s all. If it doesn’t work…”

“It will.” He’d make sure of it. He’d be everything she needed, everything their child needed. “You’ll see.”

She tangled her hands in his hair, kissing him deeper, and he tasted something like desperation in her kiss. He lifted his head and nuzzled at her throat. “What’ll it be, Counselor? Your place or mine?”

She pulled back and looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes shuttered and she smiled, a humorless expression. “Yours.”

“Nate!” Tick banged on the metal door, careful to keep his body low and to one side. He rested his free hand on his gun.

Inside, the trailer floor creaked. Blinds in the window rattled and Nate flung the door open. It bounced off the aluminum siding with a bang. He glared at Tick through bleary eyes and scratched his bare chest. “What d’ya want, Calvert? I was sleepin’.”

More like drinking and half-passed out. Disgust curdled in Tick’s empty stomach. How on earth Virgil and Miranda Holton had produced this good-for-nothing piece of crap was beyond him.

He narrowed his eyes, still letting his hand rest against the hefty weight of his Glock. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

Unease flickered in Nate’s murky gaze. “’Bout what?”

“Your sister.”

“Which one?” Nate gave a disgusted snort and turned back into the trailer’s dim interior. “I got two.”

“Now why would I come asking you questions about Madeline?” Tick stepped in behind him, senses recoiling from the smells of stale alcohol, days-old garbage and a bathroom seriously in need of cleaning. Holy hell, how did the guy live like this? “We need to talk about Autry.”

“Autry.” Nate threw himself into the brown vinyl recliner and picked up a beer can abandoned on the side table. He laughed and swirled the liquid before lifting it to his mouth. “Daddy’s little angel. Pure, perfect Autry.” A hard smirk twisted his lips. “Wonder what Daddy would say if he knew she’s been fucking your boss?”

Tick smothered a spurt of anger. How did a guy talk about his sister like that? And it wasn’t like Nate should be throwing stones. Even before Helen had gone, he’d frequented the truck stop on 300 and its lot lizards.

He kept the anger off his face and lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Does he know you hit her?”

“Shit.” Nate crushed the can under his foot. “So that’s what this is about. Yeah, I lost my temper and I popped her one. She wouldn’t tell me where Helen was.”

Un-freakin’-believable. “So she deserved it, huh?”

“Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is it’s battery and you already have a record.”

“Yeah, and if Autry was pressing charges, you’d have already had the cuffs on me. You can drop the bluff, Calvert, and get the hell out.”

“Got a couple of questions for you first.” He glanced around the dark, cramped living room. A ton of crushed beer cans littered the floor, a pile of clothes of indeterminate cleanliness took up half the couch and paper plates with food scraps covered the occasional tables. No writing pad in sight, not even by the phone. Course, no telling if the phone was even in service any more. “Where were you between two and four this morning?”

Nate tossed back his overly long hair, badly in need of a wash and a cut. “Here. Sleeping.”

Tick nodded. “Can anybody verify that?”

“Yeah.” Nate gave a satisfied sound, something between a chuckle and a belch. “Your wife.”

Tick sighed. Like he’d never heard that one before. “So the answer is no.”

Leaning back in his chair, Nate folded his arms behind his head, exposing tufts of underarm hair. “What’s so important about last night?” He narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess. Somebody tried to invade Autry’s ivory tower. Probably pissed off she’s defending that son of a bitch Schaefer.”

“Autry’s receiving threats.” Hands at his hips, Tick lowered his voice. “Let me find out they’re from you and being Virgil Holton’s son won’t save you this time. Got me?”

Nothing flickered in the blank depths of Nate’s blue eyes, but the insolent sneer remained. “Oh, yeah, I got you.”

Tick held his gaze a moment longer and nodded. “Good. See you around, Nate.”

He stepped out of the trailer and closed the door behind him. Keeping a close eye on the narrow mobile home, he walked to his truck. The scents of Nate’s home lingered with him and Tick rubbed a hand down his jaw. Damn, he needed a shower.

She’d obviously lost her mind. Autry tossed a handful of panties into her suitcase. Not only had she agreed to Stanton’s idea they should move in together, but she’d let him persuade her to begin tonight. In the privacy of her bedroom, she didn’t have to lie to herself—she would feel safer with him. Maybe she’d actually sleep.

If she stayed out of his bed.

Heat flashed through her. They weren’t talking about being merely roommates, her using his guest room. No, they were planning on a month of cohabitating, sharing everything from the morning paper to a bathroom to Stanton’s big bed.

Autry sank to the edge of the bed, a hand over her stomach. Oh, this gamble was huge. She was betting on one more month, thirty days, to make Stanton fall in love with her. How did she think that was going to happen in a mere four weeks, when four months of dating hadn’t done it?

Because the stakes were higher now. She rubbed at the slight swell of their baby. He had to feel trapped and that would lead to resentment if she couldn’t make him love her. They could all end up hurting so badly.

Even knowing all that, she was going to try anyway.

“Insane,” she muttered and pushed to her feet. So insane it might work.

She dumped jeans and T-shirts, pajamas and a couple of sweatshirts in her suitcase. She tugged her garment bag from the closet and loaded it with several of her suits. Matching shoes joined the montage in her suitcase. From her bedside-table drawer, she pulled the pregnancy book she’d been reading and tossed it in the case as well. She leaned over to latch it and moaned, the inevitable nausea climbing in her throat.

A hand clapped over her mouth, she scrambled for the bathroom. The horrible retching was over in minutes and she pushed to her feet, knees shaky. She brushed her teeth and tried not to look at her bruised face and red, damp eyes. Sure, Stanton would want that woman in his bed. She rested her forehead against the cool mirror.

She splashed cold water on her face and wrists, dried them, and walked out to the living room. “I think I’m ready…”

Her voice trailed away, a smile nudging at her mouth. Sprawled sideways, Stanton took up half her couch, his eyes closed, face relaxed in sleep. He probably hadn’t eaten all day, or if he had, it had been greasy takeout grabbed with Tick and eaten on the run. That much hadn’t changed in four months—he still let the job run his life.

He thought he was going to be taking care of her, but the truth was, as old-fashioned as it sounded, he needed someone to take care of him. She eased over to sit on the coffee table. She loved the planes and angles of his face, the fine lines radiating from his eyes, the jut of his chin, the slashes by his mouth. Her fingers tingled to stroke the strands of silver just beginning to highlight his temples.

He opened his eyes, the hazel depths sharp and clear. “Ready?”

Her face heated. He’d caught her staring at him like some lovesick teenager. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“It wouldn’t take much.” He straightened with a groan and dragged his hands down his face. “It’s been a long day. I was going to toss something on the grill, but how about if we stop at Winn Dixie and grab a rotisserie chicken instead?”

“Sounds great.” The ordinariness of the situation overwhelmed her. What they were doing was far from ordinary. The sensation of her life spinning out of control spiraled through her again.

“I’ll get your things.” Stanton rose. “Autry?”

She didn’t move from the table, but looked up at him and bit her lip. “Are we doing the right thing, Stan?”

His mouth curving, he dropped to a crouch before her. He cupped her thighs, thumbs caressing her knees, and her skin sizzled under his light touch, even through her jeans. “Yeah, baby, it’s the right thing. We have to at least try.”

“Then why does it feel…” She watched a frown pull his brows down and shook her head with a tiny dismissive laugh. “Never mind. Did I mention that pregnancy makes me a little weird and emotional?”