B008DKAYYQ EBOK (31 page)

“I’m working on one.”

“As far as plans go, loitering outside the big bad wolf’s gate and glaring lacks, I don’t know, conviction.”

“What are you doing out here? Besides harassing me.”

“I’m following directions. Like I have been all night.”

James laughed under his breath. “So it’s your job to make sure I get out of town and stay out.”

“I enjoyed the pit stop at the Publix in Tampa. They have good doughnuts there. Burned my tongue on the coffee, though.”

“What if I refuse to go? Are your orders to kill me?”

“That, interestingly enough, has never been suggested.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“The big guy thinks you’re a pathetic piece of shit, but believe it or not, he doesn’t want you dead. You’re like the fucked-up son he never had. More important, he cares about your sister and what it would do to her to put her through another funeral. Personally, I think he should just have you killed and get it over with. I’ve considered taking care of it for him and then saying, ‘Oops, I misunderstood what you wanted, Mr. Kincaid.’ “

“So why aren’t you killing me then?”

Smiling, Ramsey flicked away the cigarette. “Because I think we can make us a deal, Jamie.”

“What kind of deal?”

He grinned, his perfect teeth a slash of white in his face. “You’re going to love this deal.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s going to get you what you want and Payne Kincaid off your back once and for all.”
 

Chapter 42

Cole rolled over, anticipating sliding his hands over warm flesh that would come alive under his touch yet again. Three times already he’d awakened and turned to Bailey, eager to sink into her yet again, each time finding her needy and willing, each release more intense than the one before it.
 

But he was alone in the bed, and as he ran his palm over the sheets to check for Bailey’s warmth, he found them cool.

Sitting up, he switched on the lamp by the bed and squinted at his watch. It was barely after four in the morning. He’d slept three hours.

He got out of bed, pulled on his briefs and jeans, stopped in the bathroom to splash water on his face and rinse out his mouth, then went in search of Bailey.

She wasn’t in the house, and he began to panic. He pictured her slipping out in the middle of the night to go after Payne Kincaid, determined to make him pay for his betrayal. He was on his way back to the bedroom to retrieve his shirt and cell phone when he passed the kitchen and glanced toward the sliding glass doors. Could she be on the deck?

He found the door unlatched and eased it open. The sound of the gulf waves, along with the salty, slightly humid air, flowed over him. Lightning flashed in the distance, and the water rushed ashore and retreated more vigorously than usual. The moon shone through a break in the clouds, and he spotted the pair of men ambling along the shoreline, the backs of their jackets emblazoned with “FBI.”
 

Bailey was curled in a wooden Adirondack chair, snuggled under a blanket, her eyes closed.
 

His breath caught as he looked at her. He felt as if he’d spent the past week waking from a long coma. A four-year coma, he thought. He’d come out of it briefly a year ago when he had foolishly believed that drug-addicted prostitute Sally McCoy was turning her life around for her child. But when that disillusionment had arrived, he’d returned to the coma, deeper than ever. And now here he was, awake and itching to live, to move forward. Because of a woman he’d wanted to loathe on sight.

Moving quietly to the chair next to Bailey’s, he settled down. He would have preferred the warm bed inside but didn’t want to leave her outside alone. Plus, it gave him an opportunity to appreciate the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her lashes lay against her skin. She looked unusually pale, and he wondered whether that was a trick of the moonlight. Sitting forward, he stroked the back of his hand against her smooth cheek to check for a fever and was relieved that her skin felt cool.

She opened her eyes, and an instant, sleepy smile curved her lips. “Hey.”

He smiled back, his heart doing a somersault. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.”

“How long have you been out here?”

She snuggled her chin into the blanket. “Half an hour or so.”

He settled back in the chair and breathed in the fresh air. “It’s really nice.”

“Yeah.”

He sensed something off but didn’t want to push. He already knew she wouldn’t respond well to that approach. So he just sat with her, listening to the waves and watching the occasional flash streaking behind the clouds.
 

“I had a bad dream.”

A chill went through him, and he remembered the way she’d thrashed when she’d fallen asleep at James’ while he and Austin had cleaned up.
“I don’t like it when she dreams.”
That’s what Austin had said, as though bad dreams were not uncommon for her.

Cole felt sad that being with him hadn’t kept her nightmares at bay. “What was it about?”
 

“The day my father died.”

His stomach tensed as he waited for her to go on. The approaching storm lit up the sky, and several beats later, thunder rumbled.

“It was raining.” She paused and swallowed. “He and James were fighting. They shouldn’t have been while James was driving, but Dad just kept pushing. First, he was suspicious of how James could afford such a nice car when all he did was drive delivery trucks for our Uncle Payne. Then he asked Jamie if he was on something. I’ve always been angry at him about that. It seemed like such an unfair shot. Maybe if he hadn’t goaded James at that moment …”

She trailed off, but her point was obvious. Maybe her father would still be alive.

Cole didn’t say anything, sensing she wasn’t done. But he did reach out to clasp her hand. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her palm once before her fingers gripped his.

Lightning flashed, closer now, and thunder boomed. “I counted five,” she said.

“Five?”

“Seconds. That means the storm is five miles away, right?”

“Oh, right.”

She laid her head against the back of the chair. “He ran a red light.” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her over the waves. “He tried to stop, but the street was slick, and the car spun off the road and hit a tree.” She paused. “I still don’t know why I wasn’t hurt. I was sitting on the same side as Dad. But he took the brunt of the impact.”

Cole’s heart tumbled into a different kind of somersault that involved a sharp coiling in his gut. “You were in the car?” Horror made his voice guttural.

She kept her gaze on the water. “When they started to fight, I suggested we go for ice cream. That’s how much of a help I was.”

“Jesus, Bailey.”

“After the firefighters cut us out of the car, the paramedics didn’t think Dad would make it to the ER. They couldn’t use one of those Medivac helicopters because of the rain and wind. By some miracle, he hung on, and the ER doctors worked on him for a long time.” Her breath hitched, and she stopped for a moment, her fingers tightening on his. “They wouldn’t let me touch him. I wanted so badly to touch him, to let him know I was there. But I would have been in the way. I think they forgot about me, because no one tried to usher me out while they worked on him … they should have.” A soft, sad laugh escaped her. “It’s funny. I get lightheaded at the sight of just a little blood. But that day I never passed out. I really, really wanted to.”

Cole stayed silent, not certain he could have spoken around the lump in his throat if he’d tried. He was only vaguely aware that the wind had picked up, rustling nearby trees.

“James didn’t fight the involuntary manslaughter charges. I think he wanted to be punished.” She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “And I never encouraged him to fight. I wanted him to be punished, too.”

“Bailey—”

She looked at him, and a flash of lightning caught not the glitter of anger in her eyes. “I turned to Payne Kincaid for solace. How’s that for irony?”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I would have if my brother had told the truth.” She pulled her hand away from him. “You heard what Agent Sark said. James could have walked away from four years in prison. All he had to do was tell the truth about Payne.”
 

Cole ached to pull her into the shelter of his arms. “He must have had a good reason not to.”

“What reason could be more important than being there for your own child?”

“James knew you would take care of Austin.”

“Payne took care of him, too. How did he stand it, knowing that son of a bitch was able to see Austin whenever he wanted to when James couldn’t? Do you know how often I cried on that man’s shoulder? I don’t know if I would have made it through all of that without him. I even borrowed money from him, because I wasn’t financially prepared to take care of a child. And it was
his fault
. All of it.”

“You know that’s not entirely true. James made choices.”

When she didn’t respond, he edged forward so that he knelt at her feet, his hands resting on her knees. Feeling her tremble tore at him. “You can’t change anything.”
 

She met his gaze in the darkness. “What if he knew?”

“What if who knew what?”

“My father. He and Payne were best friends. What if he knew what Payne does for a living? He’s loaded, Cole. Richer than we can imagine. I’ve never questioned where the money comes from. I mean, I just figured being an importer of art is a lucrative business.”

“You said your dad knew James was working for Payne.”

“Yes. We both did. We’d talked about how great it was that Payne had given him a job.”

“Then your father must not have known about Payne’s business or he wouldn’t have had to ask James how he could afford the car. He would have known.”

Her eyebrows rose sharply and she stared at him in disbelief. “Oh, God, you’re right. Why has that never occurred to me?”

He reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb catching the first tear that slipped over her skin. More followed, and he drew her into his arms and held her, relieved when she clung to him. Hot tears fell on his neck as lightning flashed.

Rain began to pelt the deck.

* * *

Bailey woke to sunlight streaming across her face. Squinting, she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the rays pouring through the slats of the blinds. She’d been hungover once in her life, after a night of heavy-duty partying in college, but that didn’t come close to the headache that pounded behind her eyes now or the nausea that slithered around in her stomach.
 

Getting up, using the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth might have helped, but moving didn’t seem possible at the moment.

She couldn’t blame this feeling on the booze she’d had with the coffee Cole had given her the night before. The churning stomach, maybe. But the biggest culprit had been the crying.
 

She had a vague recollection of Cole carrying her to bed after their time on the deck. He’d tucked her in and held her close until she’d drifted into an exhausted sleep.

She rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow next to her. It smelled like him, and she breathed in his scent, remembering his hands on her, his mouth, his tongue … his other parts. The memories made her heart begin to thrum in her ears.
 

She’d told him stuff that she’d never told anyone. And then she’d blubbered all over him. Again, something she’d never done with anyone else.
 

“Hey, sleepy head.”

The bed dipped, and she felt his warmth near her arm. Turning her head so she could open one eye, she peered up at him. He looked far too chipper, his face shaved, his hair combed, his clothes clean. “Morning,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “That’s what you think.” He pointed at his watch. “Try one-fifteen.”

She raised up on her elbows, wincing as stiff muscles protested. “No way.”

“Way.” Standing, he held out his hand. “Come on. A shower will help you feel human again. While you’re in there, I’ll make you something to eat. You’ve got to be starving.”

His manner was easy, his smile relaxed, his gaze straight on.
 

He made her want to weep all over again.

Walking away from him was going to cut deep enough to leave another scar.

Chapter 43

James fidgeted in the small, warm office, wishing he’d had a chance to take a shower and change his clothes. But he’d been afraid to go home. Or anywhere.

He’d driven around all night, thinking, plotting, constantly watching his rearview mirror. He still couldn’t believe the deal Dixon Ramsey had proposed while standing outside Payne Kincaid’s iron gate.
 

“The keys to the kingdom, my man,” Ramsey had said with that shit-eating grin of his. “For both of us.”

James had hesitated, baffled.