Stay With Me (38 page)

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Authors: Sharla Lovelace

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Stay With Me
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And then again, maybe he did know? I stared at him sideways, trying to read his expression.

“You know you were duped?” Bobby said. “They broke in and got this from you.”

Duncan’s mouth curved up slightly at the edges. “Did they?”

Did they? What the fuck?

Bobby got up and I backed up a step. “You are a stupid, stupid boy,” he said. “You think you won’t be linked if I go down?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d find a way to guarantee it,” Duncan said, a smile on his face that didn’t match the hatred in his eyes. “I have no doubt. But if it means you can’t touch Savanna and her family anymore—her sister’s business—all of it? Then it’s worth it.”

Bobby came around my desk like a rushing bull. “You’re acting like you have balls, boy,” he said.

It was as if Duncan rose another four inches as he bowed up and stared his uncle down. “You’re acting like you have a choice,” he said through his teeth.

Shit on a cracker. The tension in my little office was about enough to start cracking nearby glass. And him taking up for me, normally I wasn’t about that, but I had to say that made my heart go girly. It was hot and chivalrous and—damn, it was hitting me in some unchartered territory.

“You want to know why I bailed?” Duncan said. “Because you eat your own. Your kids, your extended family, everyone that touches you gets poisoned.”

“Your parents would be ashamed of you,” Bobby seethed. “You traitorous little shit.”

“My mother’s dancing in Heaven right now,” Duncan said. “She hated you. As for my dad, he can rot in hell.”

“I was under the impression we had this taken care of yesterday,” said yet another voice behind me, making me spin around. Shit, this was lining up to be another banner day, and it wasn’t even seven yet. “So why the hell are you here? In Savi’s office?”

Ian stood with his arms crossed. Duncan didn’t blink or flinch.

Bobby chuckled evilly and broke his stare with Duncan. “Oh, good, Robin Hood’s here, too. Good to see you again, Ian.” He held up his hands. “It’s all good, don’t shoot.”

“Your business here is done,” Ian said, his gray eyes hard and flinty.

“Oh, whatever,” he said. “Good luck, Miss Barnes.” He walked around me, seeming to take the air with him. “Your ridiculous little town won’t have any more problems from me, but with Mutt and Jeff as your henchmen here, you’re gonna need luck.”

I blew out a slow breath when he was completely out the door. “Fuck. Y’all just stood up to the devil.”

Duncan cut his eyes my way. “Been there before.”

“Ditto,” Ian said.

“Well, I’m so glad you two showed up. He was here,
inside,
when I unlocked everything and came in,” I said.

“Not surprising,” Duncan said.

“Easy to do,” Ian said at the same time.

I looked back and forth at them as they looked at me and not each other. “Why
were
you here?”

“Saw his car in front of the shop,” Ian said. “And he wasn’t in there.”

I looked at Duncan.

“Coming to see you,” he said. “I’m glad I did.”

I blew out another breath to relax. “Me too.”

“It’s all good now,” Duncan said.

“All good? Didn’t sound very good,” I said. “Is he gonna leave you alone too? What if he makes you leave?”

I heard the words as they left my mouth, too late to pull back. But it was my biggest fear.

“He won’t,” Duncan said.

I scoffed. “You don’t know that.”

“The hell I don’t,” he said, looking at me matter-of-factly. “This is my home. I’m not going anywhere.” Duncan touched my face. “He won’t bully me.”

I felt the words just as I was sure Ian did. There was movement in my peripheral vision as Ian turned to leave, and Duncan’s gaze shifted his way.

“Thank you,” he said, making Ian turn back around, his expression a mixed bag of question and wariness. He gave Duncan a once-over.

“No problem,” he said.

“Yes, it was,” Duncan said. “I’m pretty sure of what you did and why you did it, and I know my uncle. He doesn’t make things easy and he doesn’t let things lie.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Ian said.

“I know,” Duncan said, taking a deep breath and holding out a hand. “Still.”

Ian’s gaze dropped to Duncan’s extended hand, his jaw clenched, and I had a second’s fear that Ian would grab it and throw him to the ground. But he didn’t. He grabbed it and did the grunting thing that guys do, pulled him a little closer, and then looked at me.

“Take care of her,” Ian said through his teeth.

My eyes burned. What the fuck?

“Count on it,” Duncan said, his words sounding like they were cut from stone.

Ian gave me one more look as he backed up, then turned and walked out.

“What the hell was that?” I said as he left.

“Better question is what do you want it to be?” Duncan asked.

I met his eyes and saw the question, right before he kissed my forehead and left too.

Chapter Twenty-six

 

 

The rest of the day was kind of anticlimactic after that. It’s not too often you get to clean the criminal element out of your town. Especially when that was once you. Sort of.

I told Dad the PG version of why Bobby was going to be out of the picture. I told him that Ian had found some information to blackmail him with and left it at that. And that Emery Slade was part of it. It wasn’t the complete truth, but it was enough. And he didn’t need to know that Duncan was Bobby’s estranged nephew. Yet. He would worry. And if things progressed—if—well, I’d cross that bridge then.

Somewhere in the back of my brain I knew I was backpedaling. But I wasn’t ready to admit that yet.

Missy strolled in while I was out on the floor, looking like she’d just eaten the canary.

“What’s up with you?” I asked.

“I just heard the scoop,” she whispered, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“Good!” I whispered back. I sat on the stairs and Missy sat next to me. “So what scoop did you hear?”

“Well, I went across the street to get me some pork chops,” she said. “Really to grill Ian, but I did need some pork chops.”

“Lord.”

“But he told me you two talked things out, that he took care of things with Bobby?” At her puzzled look, I nodded. “And that I missed a showdown with Mr. Greene himself this morning,” she said under her breath.

I sighed. “Yeah, something like that.”

“And he said to check to see if you were warmer now,” she said. “I have no idea what that means.”

I fought a grin. “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Had chills yesterday.”

“Take your vitamins,” Missy said. “Vitamin C wards off the cruds and you need A, B, and D too. And women need extra iron. Especially you, baby girl, you’re a Pisces!”

“Well, of course,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.

“Water signs always need more nutrient supplements,” she said, getting up. “Hey, I saw online this morning there’s an estate sale going on in Myers tomorrow. Think I’m gonna go check it out. Looked like some good stuff. Lots of wooden furniture and glassware. Some crazy old pinball machines, too.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Thank you, Missy.”

“No problem,” she said, nudging me. “Well, are things better with the good doctor?”

“Hellooooo?” came a female sing-songy voice drifting up from below, interrupting my answer as we looked to see.

“Who’s that?” Missy said.

A thump from overhead told me that Dad had jumped to his feet, and the following thunder down the stairs said that he didn’t want interference. “It’s for me,” he said as he wound his way through us.

“Please tell me he doesn’t have another harpy in the wings,” I muttered, keeping my seat as Missy sat back down a couple of steps lower, not wanting to miss the show.

Halfway around the horse stall, the harpy made her appearance. Same one, which was oddly comforting. Jemma of the bright red hair, this time all in neon green. Hugging my dad like he’d just bought her a car.

“Good grief,” I said under my breath.

And then it got better—or worse. Because Mrs. Sullivan was standing in the doorway. I froze like a deer in the headlights, wanting to go kick my dad out of the line of fire but unable to move.

Mrs. Sullivan didn’t yell or make a big production like I expected her to. She walked up slowly, stopping about five feet away.

“Hello, Theo,” she said, her voice calm, her body language refined.

Maybe that kind of control and restraint came with age and wisdom, because I don’t think I would have reacted that well.

Dad jumped at the sound of her voice like someone had held a lighter to his ass. Jemma had to step aside or be pushed. “Clara.”

“Shit,” I whispered, slinking down like the steps would hide me.

“Drama?” Missy asked, lowering to the step below me.

Mrs. Sullivan held out a hand and approached them, smiling at Jemma.

“I’m Clara Sullivan,” she said.

Jemma looked a little bewildered, and I felt sorry for her. “Jemma Smith,” she said, taking Mrs. Sullivan’s hand tentatively.

“Are you and Theo dating?” Mrs. Sullivan asked, much like she would have over sandwiches at the diner if they were friends.

Jemma opened her mouth and glanced at Dad, then reddened a little. “Well, I—”

“Clara, come upstairs so we can sit down,” he said.

“All three of us?” she said, innocence on her face.

“Oh, I’d never make it up there in these heels,” Jemma said, pointing out her three-inch zebra pumps.

Mrs. Sullivan looked down. “Well, I can just imagine.” She licked her lips and smiled sweetly. “Theo, I was curious before, but think I pretty much have the gist of things.”

Oh, Dad.
He looked like he’d rather take a beating in front of the courthouse than be in this situation. I felt for him and wanted to help beat him at the same time. I’d told him he needed to tell her.

“No, you don’t,” he said, turning to Jemma with a hand on her back, a move that Mrs. Sullivan did not miss, I noticed. “Jemma, could you give us a minute?”

“No reason,” Mrs. Sullivan said politely, holding up a hand. “Jemma, it was a pleasure. Theo, have a blessed day.”

“Clara,” he said, stepping forward as she stepped back.

“I don’t play with things like this,” she said softly, her eyes saying so much more.

“I don’t either.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And I am honest, which is something I thought you were as well. So I’m going to be straight with you and say that it was wonderful and that it is now past tense.”

Wow. That was an excellent line, and so classy.

She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving my dad standing there watching her go like a whipped puppy.

“Theo?” Jemma said, looking up at him. “I’m taking it that you aren’t single after all?”

“My wife is dead,” he said after a long sigh, still looking out the door. “Anything else I am doesn’t really count for much, officially.”

Jemma smiled and patted his chest. “I think you’re wrong,” she said, glancing behind her, out the door. “I think
she
counted quite a bit.”

She squeezed his hand and walked out too.

“Poor Dad,” I whispered.

“Walked out on by two women in the same thirty seconds,” Missy said. “That’s harsh.” She got up and stepped down two of the broad steps, leaning against the wall. “But he was in love with your mom for a long time. He doesn’t see ever replacing that.”

“I want to hug him and beat him with a newspaper at the same time,” I said. “It’s not about replacing.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” she said. “It’s about moving on and living. Recognizing the past as the beautiful thing it was, but not letting it stifle you from seeing the future.”

I blinked a couple of times and looked back at my dad, hearing her words and not wanting to think about them just yet. “I thought you didn’t like Mrs. Sullivan.”

Missy shrugged. “Nothing against her personally, I just don’t see it working. But what matters is what he sees,” she said softly, pointing at Dad, who was still standing alone in the showroom.

I got up and walked down the remaining steps to my dad.

“You all right?” I asked, coming up behind him and linking my arm in his.

He looked so sad. So lonely.

“I’m an idiot,” he said.

“Well, I’m told sometimes it takes time to learn that,” I said softly, squeezing his arm.

He chuckled. “I suppose so.”

“So go after her,” I said.

“Which one?” he asked, glancing at me.

I gave him a look. “If you have to ask that question, never mind.”

He smiled and hugged my arm to him. “So you still dating that vet?” he asked.

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