Texas Strong (18 page)

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Authors: Jean Brashear

BOOK: Texas Strong
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“Well, of course you’re doing all this for her,” Chrissy soothed. “You’ve worked hard to provide for your family.”

Laura moved to stand square in her sister’s path, hands on hips. She made a slicing motion at her own throat.

Chrissy’s expression was both guilty and helpless. Laura could hear Jake’s voice on the other end, and for a second, she was tempted by the beloved sound of it.

She had to be on guard. Yes, she loved him. Missed him already.

But she’d done little except miss him for months now. If she caved this soon—

“Have you checked with the kids?” Chrissy asked.

Laura was horrified. She grabbed her sister’s arm and swung her around.
Leave the kids out of this
, she mouthed.

“Absolutely. They’d only worry.” Mutiny was on Chrissy’s face.

Laura held her breath.

“Listen, Jake, Thad’s asking for me. Can I call you back?”

Laura’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline.

“That’s okay. You get some sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted. Do you have anything to eat?”

She was going to kill her little sister. The man had plenty of money to order food.

And anyway, she’d left some things in the refrigerator, despite her threat.

“Oh.” Her sister’s mouth quirked. “That was sweet of her. See? She does love you. Everything will be fine.” At Laura’s disgusted expression, Chrissy simply stuck out her tongue. “Yes, I promise. If she contacts me, you’ll be the first to know.” She said goodbye and hung up the phone.

“What are you doing? You said you wouldn’t take his side. You can’t make promises like that.”

“If you’d go home, I wouldn’t have to lie again.” Chrissy’s face got that stubborn cast she’d perfected as a child. “I love him, too, Big. He’s a wonderful man. I don’t like being a part of hurting him.”

“And I do? I’d love nothing more than to race home and fall into his arms—” She stopped. Exhaled. “This isn’t fair to you. I’ll check into a hotel.”

“There isn’t one here. Besides, what about Puddin’?”

“I’ll put him in the kennel.”

“There’s not one of those either. Anyway, he’s old. He should be in his yard.”

Laura fought not to burst into tears. “Of course he should. I want to be home, too, but I’m fighting for my marriage.” She collapsed into a kitchen chair. “I’m making this up as I go, Chrissy.”

She wished more than ever for her mother’s guidance, her steady hand, but her parents were both gone now. “My husband, whom I love more than life, has never been further away from me. He’s thrilled with what he’s doing, and it’s important, yes, but—” Then she voiced her deepest fear. “I’m scared that this new career will kill him.”

Chrissy bent to her, wrapped Laura in her arms. “I am so sorry. I didn’t understand.” Their roles reversed, for a change, younger sister rocking the elder. “Don’t you dare leave. I’ll lie to him if I must because this is important. You two belong together. But, Laura—” She drew back. Lifted her sister’s head. “You will have to face him at some point and hash this out.”

“I understand. But so far, when I’ve tried, all he hears is nagging. Anyway, maybe he’s tired of me. Perhaps the magic is over.”

“You didn’t hear his voice. The man is worried. He’s not going to wait long before he seeks official help and your face winds up on TV. The only thing that’s holding him back at the moment is his shame. He’s aware that he screwed up. He just doesn’t get the big picture yet.”

“I’m not interested in having anyone else involved.”

“Except your poor sister who hates deceiving the man she’s had a crush on since she was fifteen?” Chrissy grinned.

“You can’t have him.” Laura sniffed and straightened. “Knothead though he is, I am not giving him up without a fight. He’s going to have to tell me he doesn’t want me anymore.” Her heart clenched at the mere thought.

“He’s a knothead, maybe, but he’s not insane. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him.” Chrissy shook her head. “More’s the pity. He is hot, you know.”

“He is.” Laura’s voice lowered. “But I can’t say the same. My figure’s going, and my hair’s turning gray. I’m not the woman he married.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Jake’s sexy for an older guy, but he’s aged, too. Neither of you is anywhere near decrepit, though. Plus there’s always the little blue pill.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but when he does manage to be home and not dead on his feet, that’s not an issue.”

“Have you considered seducing him?”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course I have. This isn’t simply solved with a great round of sex.”

“No need to rub it in. You think you’re deprived—I’m single with two kids. I’m not sure I remember how.”

Instantly Laura was reminded that her sister’s lot was not an easy one. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well—” Chrissy’s tone was tart “—you should be.” Then she grinned. “Let’s do this. I’ll put the kids to bed. You grab the wine. We’ll have a pity party and trash the Y chromosome half of the species.”

“It won’t fix my problem.”

“Mine, either. Let’s do it anyway.” Chrissy winked, but Laura spotted the loneliness beneath her sister’s bravado.

So she nodded. “Why not?”

Chapter Eight

S
ince he was on call, Tank had brought the department’s SUV instead of his truck. He loaded his tools in the back of it and took off for the other side of the county, for an address he already knew too well.

Maybe this time the woman would listen. Would press charges instead of making excuses for the man who made her life hell.

He hated these calls. The place he was going could not have been more different from Sweetgrass Springs, and today’s activities only cemented that. Until Jackson had returned to town, there had been very little money in Sweetgrass, but everyone believed in hard work, and they believed in the land and their roots.

Even Vernon Patton, bastard that he had been, had taken care of his place, had nurtured the land that his ancestors had fought for and died for.

He just hadn’t given a rat’s ass for the people who lived there with him.

As Tank drove into this pocket of poverty with its shacks and broken-down trailer homes, he wondered what it was inside some people that made them resilient in the face of poverty, determined to work their way out or to care for their meager assets—as opposed to those who took the easy way out, who lived in filth and lost themselves in drugs or put their efforts into crime. Who cooked meth and fed off others instead of looking out for their fellow man.

As he pulled up to the rusted white trailer he’d visited only days before, Tank could hear the screaming before he even opened his vehicle door. He radioed in his arrival, then gathered himself to be a stone again, a brick wall.

It was that or beat the living hell out of this guy for dragging out the darkness from Tank’s past.

For one crystalline second, he thought of Chrissy, of her children. Of how her bright hair and her beautiful smile lit up his world.

He slammed a lid on the memory. He couldn’t let her go with him into this place. Couldn’t let himself feel. He had a job to do, and he didn’t dare risk allowing emotions he’d spent so much of his life burying deep.

He knocked on the sagging screen door. “Open up. Sheriff’s Department.”

He heard a struggle, something knock against the wall.

He grabbed the door handle, prepared to break in, but before he could, the door was jerked open. The same creep with stringy hair and missing teeth glared at him out of eyes wild with rage. “You got no business here. This is my home. You can’t come in.”

“There’s been a complaint. I need to see your wife.”

“Bitch don’t have to talk to you. Ain’t nobody here have to talk to you. I know my rights.”

“I can arrest you right now for a public disturbance.” Which, damn it, was all he could do at this point.

“Won’t stick. I’ll be out in an hour.”

Tank ratcheted down harder on his rage. “I don’t have to book you very fast. You could be gone until long after you start jonesing for your next hit. That how you want to play it?”

“Why you—” The belligerent man took a step forward, fist cocked.

Come on, asshole. One shot and you’re mine
.

But there was just enough sanity left to make the man cagey. “No, I ain’t falling for that. Not landing in jail for hitting an officer.”

“Too bad. Now get your wife out here and let me talk to her.”

“Bitch lies about ever’ damn thing.”

“That’s my call. Mrs. Karnes? Can you come here and talk to me a minute?”

The man’s entire body broadcast menace as the painfully thin woman trudged into view. She swiped a hand at the nose that was bleeding. Her cheek sported a rapidly forming bruise.

He hated that he was helpless to do anything about it if she wouldn’t help herself. “Would you step out here a moment, Mrs. Karnes?” He kept his voice low, though he wanted to bark out an order for her to wake up and see that the man beside her would kill her before he was done.

She glanced up at her husband’s forbidding gaze.

“Just outside, please, ma’am.”

“Don’t you lie to that cop, Marie. I’ll know.”

“You shut the hell up and get back,” Tank barked.

“Mama—?”

Oh, God. A child. He hadn’t seen a child last time. “Baby, no,” the woman’s voice trembled. “You get back in your room, honey, like I told you. Read your book, all right?” Battered and bruised as she was, still she managed to be gentle.

“Mama, I’m scared—”

The man growled and wheeled in that direction. The front door slammed behind them, and she flinched. “I can’t talk to you. I have to go see to my baby.”

All the years of watching his father abuse his mother as she tried to shield a very young Tank roared to life. “Ma’am, you can fix this. You can get out of here.”

She pleaded with tormented eyes. “You have to let me go back in. I have to make sure—”

“You don’t have to live like this. I can take you and your boy to a safe place.”

But she was frantic, slapping at him weakly as she fought for her child. “I can’t leave him in there with—”

“Will you press charges? I can get him out of here, get him away.”

Agony was in her gaze. “Then what will we live on? He’s not always—he’s just under a lot of pressure. The boy won’t be quiet, and now there’s another on the way and—”

Tank realized her belly was beginning to round with child. “You have to help your children. You can’t make them live with a monster. They’ll never get over this. If you’re any kind of mother, you’ll walk away from him—”

He snapped his mouth shut, realizing he was begging her as the boy Tank, who could never understand why his mother wouldn’t take them out of that hellhole.

So he’d learned to get between his dad and them the only way that counted—by making Vernon so angry he went after Tank and not the women. Veronica had been like this girl’s baby, born into a nightmare and only a too-young brother to protect her.

It took too long to get big enough to fight his dad and win.

The woman threw herself at the door. “You can’t hold me here. Please—please let me go inside.”

He listened hard for a sound of struggle so he’d have a reason to go in. Without anyone asking for help, his options were limited. The silence was ominous, yet if he went in and screwed this up, the guy would escape justice for sure. “The only way this ends is either you let me get you and your child out or you wind up dead one day. Then who will care for your children?”

She was beyond reasoning, shaking her head silently, tears streaming. “It will be fine if you’ll just let me go in. He’s just had a hard day. It will be better but only if you go. Please—” Her voice was almost a growl. “Go. Please.”

“How can you ask that of me? I know what’s going to happen. I know how this ends—”
I was that boy
.

But she wasn’t listening. She broke away from him and raced inside, slamming the door in his face.

Most of the time, Tank believed in the law. Had sought out this career to make things right, to seek justice.

But the law hadn’t helped him or his mother or his sister.

And it wasn’t going to help this woman now. With every fiber in him, Tank wanted to barge in and sweep up that child. If the boy’s mother wouldn’t protect him, Tank would. He had one hand wrapped around the door handle with white knuckles, the other drawing his weapon.

But he could hear his sheriff’s voice:
Tank, you can’t save those who don’t want saving. You know that
.

Or Chrissy:
If anyone ever tried to hurt my children, I’d kill them.

His head dropped, and he was breathing hard as he fought the urge to cast off every caution. This woman did not have Chrissy’s strength, and he couldn’t just grab her child and take off. The choices left to him, to report the family to Child Protective Services or to drive by the house in hopes of finding the woman alone one day to talk sense into her…too little, too ineffective.

Another family lost to violence no one could stop. A system that didn’t work.

Laws and lawyers who stood between worthless, evil bastards like the one on the other side of the door and true justice…

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