Loving Lies (21 page)

“Fuck! Bite my ass! Son of a bitch! I think I just lost ten years off my life. I'm too fucking old to be losing years, Slade,” Zack was muttering as Jazz disappeared into one of the bedrooms with Cody, their laughter following them back. Slade jerked a cabinet door open and dragged the whisky from the interior.

Seconds later, the liquor was flowing down his throat, searing his guts as he braced his hand on the counter and fought for breath. Zack jerked the bottle from his hand and tilted it up straight.

“Jessie.” Slade swallowed tightly. “You have to go find her. She didn't look good, Zack. Go take care of her.”

“Not for all the wheat in Kansas,” Zack snarled, turning back to him as he glowered furiously. “I leave you here alone and you'll draw blood. Jessie's stronger than you give her credit for, Slade. Let her get her head on straight and she'll be back. She won't stay gone for long.”

Slade swiped his hand over his hair before jerking the bottle from Zack and refilling his glass. He could still hear Cody, his voice slowly returning to normal as he laughed at something Jazz was saying. Slade blinked back the dampness in his eyes, breathing carefully through the constriction in his chest.

“God, this is a fucking mess.” Slade ran his fingers through his wet hair, only then realizing he was dripping on Jazz's kitchen floor.

“I told you to tell her,” Zack growled. “You can't hide shit like this, Slade, it just bites you in the ass when you least expect it. She's not a fucking toy you can play with. She's been played with too much since you decided to pull that stupid-ass stunt five years ago and sneak away to the cove with her. We saved her for you. But you fuck it up now and all bets are off.”

Slade stared back at him in surprise. “Jazz didn't save shit.”

Zack grunted. “She was hurting, Slade. Bad. It was one of us or some other bumbling fool. You don't put a woman like that in fucking deep freeze. I'm too much like you. She didn't need rebound love, she needed a friend who could let her dream of you while he held her. Jazz was able to do that. I'm just too big of a prick for something like that, to be honest. If I were between her thighs, I'd be damned if I'd let her think about a danged fool like you.” His midnight-blue eyes snapped with anger.

Slade had managed to avoid this conversation since returning. Now, he didn't give a damn. He could fight Zack just as easy as he could kill Glenna.

“I didn't expect her to wait,” he bit out. “But I'd be damned if one of those bastards sniffing around her on a continual basis were good enough for her. All I asked was that you keep a fucking eye on her. Not find her something to fuck.”

He glanced to the hallway, listening for Cody's laughter, Jazz's booming voice.

“Well, we just went ahead and did both for you.” Zack's smile was all teeth. “And just look at all the thank-yous we're getting.” His gaze snapped with ire. “You're a damned fool, Slade. You should have told Jessie the truth starting out, instead of leaving her the way you did. And what the hell? Did you forget how to use a condom?”

Slade tossed back another fiery swallow of the whisky. “I was drunk,” he snarled. “That fucking wedding and reception, and all I could think about was Jessie. All I could feel or see was Jessie. Amy very conveniently took advantage of it. More than once.”

Those first months had been worse than hell. He came in at night, after dealing with Kingston and Baines and their self-glorified gloating over what excellent businessmen they were. He would get quietly, calmly, as drunk as hell. And Amy being Amy wasn't one to let an opportunity slip by. According to Amy just before her death, getting him in her bed was imperative. He wasn't Cody's father, and she could never let anyone discover that. It would not only foul the operation, but it would jeopardize her plans as well. Hers and her lover's.

Slade sat in one of the kitchen chairs, lowering his head as he wiped his hands wearily over his face. He had never forgiven Amy for that, for getting pregnant during such a dangerous mission. She hadn't wanted a child, and according to her, didn't love the father. Her goal had been to project the perfect family to lure Kingston and Baines into the trap so that they could trust Slade. What she was really after was stealing that fucking money so she and her lover could escape.

Zack grunted, stomping away as he pulled his cell phone free of his jeans and began making his calls, checking to see if anyone had seen Jessie. Slade listened with a heavy heart. How many times was Jessie going to let him hurt her before she gave up? Before the love that filled her soul was destroyed forever.

“She's just driving around.” He flipped the phone closed long minutes later. “She's fine, Slade. She's not speeding or acting foolish, like some people we know have been prone to do.” He shot Slade an accusing look.

Slade nodded slowly, his head turning as the door to the bedroom could be heard opening and Cody came racing out, dressed in a woman's small T-shirt.

“Jessie left a few things here awhile back.” Jazz grinned. “Tiniest little woman I ever laid my eyes on.”

Slade stared at the T-shirt. It swallowed his son. Slade's eyes lifted to Jazz's then. The implication of Jessie's clothes being there was clear, but he couldn't find the energy to be enraged. Jazz didn't love Jessie. Any man who loved her would never give her up so easily. Jazz had done though, just as Slade had asked of him. He had saved Jessie for him. Taken care of her. Kept her from rebounding with another man and destroying both their souls.

Some things men just didn't talk about though. As Slade stared back at his friend he let a smile edge his lips as he nodded softly. Yeah, he and Jazz were fine with this.

Jazz's return nod settled it. They were good. Brothers. Just like they had always been.

“Daddy. Jazz said the lady that pulled me out was your girlfriend.” Cody snickered teasingly, dimples forming at his cheeks as he jumped into Slade's lap. “If she's your girlfriend, is she gonna be my momma?”

Hell yes she was.

“Settle down, Cody. We'll talk about mommas later.” He pulled his son against his chest, stroking his hand down his back. For all his present cheerfulness, there were fine tremors still shaking through Cody's body.

Slade fought not to crush him in his arms, to keep from clutching at him, to still the grief rising inside him. Glenna's vindictiveness had nearly killed her own daughter's child. Her hatred of Jessie, and evidently Slade as well, had almost destroyed all their lives. It was something he wouldn't let pass. He wouldn't be able to get to her now, Jazz and Zack were like damned mother hens sometimes. But he would get to her.

“Me and Cody are going to go after that ice cream and make a little pit stop at the clinic,” Jazz announced. “Make sure that ole lake water ain't gonna stunt his growth.”

Slade shook his head. His kid. He didn't need anyone else taking care of his boy any more than he needed anyone else taking care of his woman. At least, not in the important areas.

“I'll take him.” Bone-deep sadness filled his soul as the truth of what had happened began sinking into him. “What do you think, Son? Will ice cream and chips make up for the doctor?”

“Cookies too.” Cody nodded at the thought. “Good cookies. But you're still wet, Daddy.”

The kid ate like a little pig and never gained a pound. He had to be the scrawniest scrap of a guy for his age that Slade had ever laid his eyes on. And the boy was right, he was still wet. Sighing, Slade lifted the boy to Zack, marveling once again at how tiny the boy was. For a kid who ate so much, he should be three times his size.

“Jazz will just follow along then and make sure you don't head places you shouldn't be. I'll stay here and talk to J.J. when he arrives,” Zack announced.

Jesse James Roberts was the sheriff and an old friend. Slade rose to his feet, running his fingers through his hair as he headed to the spare room and the change of clothes he kept there. He didn't argue Zack's announcement. He was afraid himself he'd end up killing Glenna. His control was shot.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, Slade stepped back into the kitchen, whisking Cody from the floor where he and Jazz and been wrestling, and holding him close to his chest.

“Come on, little man.” He kissed Cody's head as he headed for the door. “Let's go find you some clean clothes and then Daddy will get you that ice cream and cookies. But we're going to go see that nice doctor we saw last week. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” Cody sighed, obviously put out at the thought of the nice doctor. “Then, I want to meet your girlfriend. I need a momma, Daddy. They make good cookies. You burn yours.”

Slade winced as Jazz snickered behind him. Sold out for a cookie. Now wasn't that just about typical of how his life was going lately?

Chapter Twenty

 

Slade wasn't at the apartment when she pulled into the parking lot and stared at the small lake the tributary from the nearby river created. Zack's pickup was gone, but Jazz's flashy '69 Corvette was sitting in front of the doorway that led to the upstairs apartments.

Dragging herself wearily from the car, Jessie moved slowly to the doorway and upstairs. She was exhausted, her mind running in circles, the years of hating, longing and hurting had culminated to this one point. In the time it had taken for her to see one little boy toppling into the water, to hearing Slade's pleas for God's mercy and his son's life.

What had happened? She remembered Amy bragging that week that Slade was hers, that he would always be hers. Jessie remembered her panic at hearing of the confidence in the other woman's voice. Had she somehow unconsciously known that Amy was pregnant?

Shaking her head at her inability to answer the question, she unlocked the apartment and stepped in, suspecting what she would find there. And there was Jazz, slouched back in her favorite chair, a soda in his hand as he watched her television.

“‘Bout time you dragged that little ass in,” he grunted as he sat up, almost setting the can on her end-table before grimacing, rising to his feet and heading to the kitchen. The last time he left a can on her end-table, he had worn the soda home.

“Good boy,” she muttered as she dropped her keys into the purse sitting on the table by the door and moved through the house. “Now go home where you belong.”

“Aw hell, Jessie. You can't run me off.” He sighed as he walked back into the living room. “You know that shit don't work.”

That was the truth. He had shadowed her like a bad smell for the past five years. Him and Zack both.

She stared at him, seeing the worry that edged his eyes, that tightened his sensual lips. Jazz was a damned fine-looking man. Six-foot-five, a wild man of black hair that flowed to his shoulders, and ice-blue eyes. Jazz was a complete sensualist, a hedonist. In that, he was a lot like Slade and she suspected Zack as well. But where the other two men partially hid that extreme sexuality, Jazz reveled in it. Something Jessie hadn't been able to fully appreciate the few times she had shared his bed.

“Why?” She watched him curiously, wondering why he had put himself and his friendship with Slade on the line by sleeping with her.

He didn't ask what she meant, he knew. He raked his fingers through his hair as he turned back to her, his expression more serious than she had seen it in a long time.

“You belonged to Slade.” He finally shrugged. “You knew that, even if you wanted to deny it, and so did I. And you were hurting.”

“Why, Jazz?” she asked again, giving him the look she gave her students when she knew the truth wasn't exactly coming out.

“Hell, Jess. He's my bud,” he snapped, his blue eyes flaming. “You were his girl. You didn't need to fall in love; you just needed someone to pretend with you a time or two. Slade knows that. We don't discuss it and we won't, but Slade knows or he would have killed me instead of just bitching about it a little bit.”

And to Jazz she knew that explained it all. They were, essentially, his family. Slade, Jazz and Zack had something important in common. The three of them were foster children, unwanted children. The rules seemed to morph for children who had been raised with the feeling they were castoffs, that they had no one. Slade, Jazz and Zack had bonded as friends in the boys' school they had been sheltered at in town; fostered out to different families, they were each other's stability. Family.

Jessie moved over to a nearby chair and sat down slowly, her stomach twisting with the sickening realization of the stress she must have placed on that friendship, that bond Slade and Jazz shared.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, holding back the tears that threatened once again.

“Sweet pea, you have no reason to be apologizin'.” He sighed as he bent in front of her, his large hand moving beneath her chin to tip her face up to his. “I offered. I made myself available, and I made sure none of those dumb pricks panting after you had a chance. You needed sugar, and I provided.” He smiled slowly, gently. “And I saved you for my brother, just like he would have done for me if the position had been reversed.”

“And you?” she whispered painfully. “You risked your friendship, someone important to you, to save me.”

“Naw.” He shook his head firmly. “I talked to Slade while he was gone, sweetheart. I knew how he was hurting, how he worried about you. How he wanted you happy. Slade's a good guy, Jess. And that man loves you more than life. And he loves me. He knows who I held you for, and that's all that matters to him.”

Jessie swallowed tightly. “I love you, Jazz,” she whispered, and knew it was true. It wasn't a romantic love, or a sexual love. He was, next to Slade, one of the dearest people in her life though.

“Sweet pea, I love you too.” He leaned forward and kissed her check with all the affection of an older brother. “And everything's going to be okay. I'll let Slade know you're home before he goes insane. Zack is gonna stay with little Cody and he'll come to you…”