The Trouble with Temptation (36 page)

Brannon shook his head. “No. I—”

“Don’t you give me that. You were too old for her, the first time you really noticed her.” She arched a brow at him when he would have interrupted. “You’re my boy—maybe I didn’t give birth to you, but you’re my son all the same and I see exactly what a mother is going to see. She’d been coming here for years, but then you started to really
see
her. She was too young, so you did the only thing a good man could. You stayed the hell away. But she hasn’t been a girl for a long time, Brannon. She’s not seventeen anymore. Although sometimes, I think
you
just might be. You are
still
running away.” She moved away, huffing out a sigh. “You run away from your feelings because it’s easier for you to not feel anything. Both you and Moira—the two of you decided it was just easier to never feel anything. And Neve, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling everything.”

Brannon snapped his jaw shut.

Ella Sue’s eyes narrowed as she turned back to face him. “You want to argue? You want to tell me
one
time when you didn’t push somebody away? Everybody?” One hand went to her hip while she gestured grandly with the other. “If you have a for-instance, Brannon, I’m listening.”

Because he didn’t, he stayed quiet. Arms crossed over his chest, he glared at her.

“Now … just what is going on, Brannon?”

“I…”
lied
. He hesitated. This soul-baring shit sucked. Only Ella Sue could pull it out of him, too.

She arched her brows. “You
what
? Did she tell you about the baby and you freaked?”

“Hell, no! I didn’t know about the baby until after the accident.” He wasn’t
that
much of an asshole. Turning away from her incisive stare, he started to pace. He couldn’t stand there and look in her eyes and not talk. She was like a living, breathing lie detector.

He paced to the end of the dock where it gave way to the path. The cool wind kicked up and he slid his eyes upward, peering through the branches to find the skies dark and leaden. A storm was rolling in again, another soaker, bringing with it the bite of cold air and the promise of thunder. Even as he thought it, the distant rumble of it echoed off in the distance.

“We should head back,” he murmured.

“Ain’t like I’ve never been rained on before. You get back to the house and you’re going to dodge me again.”

He flicked a glance back at her and then looked back toward the skies. “I lied to her, Ella Sue. We—no—
she
had decided she was done. She realized I was more trouble than I was worth.”

“Smart girl,” Ella Sue muttered, moving to stand beside him. But she wasn’t looking at him.

She was studying the sky.

He glared at her.

“She told me how she felt—said she’d loved me. Then she said she’d do her best to stop loving me,” he said, and a familiar ache settled in his chest. It was an ache he knew well. It came back every time he thought of that day. “That was in the afternoon. That night … she had the car wreck.”

“Oh, honey.” She turned, the storm forgotten.

He backed up before she could touch him. “Don’t,” he said gruffly, catching her hands. “I lied, Ella Sue. When she woke up, I had every chance to tell her the truth, every chance to apologize and tell her that I’d figured out what a fool I was. But I didn’t. I told her we’d fought … but that day, I went to her because…”

Ella Sue filled in the blanks on her own and the look she gave him was one of pity and aggravation. “Boy, you
did
fuck up.”

Before she could say anything else, a voice rang out through the woods. Somebody was calling them.

Hers—then his.

Neve’s voice, clear and loud, carried easier on the wind.

But it was Ian who got there first, his legs longer, more powerful.

He gave Brannon a dark look. “You bloody arse. We’ve been looking for ya all day!”

“I’ve only been here a couple hours,” he said.

“Well, a couple hours then.” His face was ruddy from the run, his accent thick. “You left your fuckin’ phone. We been tryin’ to call. Somebody broke into Hannah’s place. It’s been trashed.”

Brannon stared at him for one second as the words came together.

Then he lunged.

Ian caught him, huge, powerful arms stopping him from tearing off down the path.

“Hold up, hold up, man!”

“Let me go, you son of a bitch!”

“She’s not there!” Neve shouted.

Slowly, Brannon relaxed but Ian didn’t let him go, not right away. While Brannon stared at his sister, Ian strained to hold him. “You going to listen there, mate?” he asked softly. “For a minute, yeah?”

“A minute.” His blood was roaring. His heart felt like it had lodged in his throat—or maybe down near his ankles. He wasn’t sure. “You’ve got one minute.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Hannah braced her elbow against the car door.

The wind raced in, blowing her hair back and chilling her flesh.

She was shivering, but she needed the air, both to calm her nerves and to keep the cop next to her from trying to talk to her.

She’d been given two choices.

Well, three, really, but one of them hadn’t really been a choice. She was exhausted and there was no way she was going to try to curl up in the hallway while the cops went over her apartment with a fine-toothed comb. That was the non-choice.

The other choice, another non-choice as far as she was concerned, had been to let one of the uniformed officers take her to the police department and sit on her—as Gideon had phrased it—so she could rest there.

She’d told him to go fuck himself.

So he’d suggested Brannon’s.

She’d flipped the chief of police off and he shrugged. “Those are your choices. He’s got a security system, and if I tell him to lock you down, he will.”

“Fine.” She’d bared her teeth at him and told him to call Brannon. Once he got there, she could punch him in the teeth and then fine, he could
lock her down
and she’d brood and steam until she figured out another option besides staying with a man who’d lied to her.

Except Brannon wasn’t answering his phone.

Gideon had gotten more and more frustrated, she’d gotten more and more tired, so Beau had volunteered to drive her out to the sprawling house where Brannon lived. He’d stay there with her, too.

Gideon had grunted his assent, but as they left, he was already putting in another call—this one to McKay’s Ferry. Moira, Neve, or Ella Sue would be able to track Brannon down. She knew it without a doubt and glumly, she had to acknowledge that she’d be dealing with the bastard sooner than she’d wanted—she’d been planning on not dealing with him
period
.

She shivered as another gust of wind blew in and the windows went up—not all the way. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rubbed at her arms and sighed.

“Thanks.”

“If you were cold, you just had to ask,” Beau said amicably.

She smiled weakly. Not like she was about to tell him she’d rather freeze just so they didn’t have to talk, now was she?

They sped on in silence a few more miles and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

But she breathed easy way too soon.

“You’re mad at Brannon.”

Frustrated, she closed her eyes. “Anybody ever tell you it’s dangerous to piss off a pregnant woman?”

Beau chuckled. “Well, I’m an officer of the law. I think I’m safe.”

She made a face.

A few more moments of silence and then he asked, “Want to talk about it?”

“Don’t you have enough problems going on, Beau?” she asked tiredly.

“There is that.” He blew out a breath. “I got problems all the way up my ass. Excuse my language, Hannah. I just…”

She slid him a look. “Why do you stay?”

“Love makes fools of us all.” He shrugged as though that explained everything. Then he glanced over at her. It was a quick look then he went back to focusing on the road in the driving rain. “So what happened between you and Brannon? Seemed it was going rather well.”

“Yeah.” She curled her lip. “Then I went and remembered a few details.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw how Beau’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. It was only for a moment. But his grip was so intense, his knuckles stood out in stark relief against his skin. “Your memory is coming back.”

Hannah pushed a hand through her hair and looked down.

The thick, dense strands fell to shield her face, giving her a veil of sorts. It wasn’t perfect, but it let her see somewhat, without letting
him
see her.

He’d relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. And he seemed to be looking outside.

“Not everything,” she said, struggling to keep her voice casual. “Just a few more bits and pieces. About him, is all.”

“Has to be frustrating.” Beau sighed. “I can’t imagine missing a week of your life, Hannah.”

“Yeah.”

He lowered a hand, drumming out a beat on his leg.

Hannah lowered hers, too, casually resting hers on her thigh. The pocket a few inches away held her utility scissors. They had a blunt edge but could cut through just about anything. A hell of a tool. Not much of a weapon.

“You don’t need to be so nervous.”

She looked up at Beau.

He was still staring at the road.

“We’ll take care of you, Hannah. That’s a promise.”

Slowly, she shifted her attention to the bend in the road, watching, waiting. The car was slowing down.

Thunder boomed overhead.

Lightning split the sky, casting its brilliant, searing light for a fraction of a second and blinding her.

The car came around the curve, Brannon’s massive home was visible for just a moment as another jagged spear of lightning bloomed.

“Won’t be long now.”

Another hair pin curve. She said, “I need air, Beau.”

He sighed and put the window down. It wasn’t all the way down but it would work.

Please, God. Don’t let me hurt my baby
.

She glanced at Beau. “Hey, Beau?”

When he looked at her, she grabbed the wheel.

And wrenched.

*   *   *

“You sent her…” Brannon shoved the heel of his hand against his eye socket and then swore. “I’m not
at
my place.”

Across the line, Gideon muttered under his breath.

Brannon thought he heard something along the lines of
Stupid, asinine, idiot McKays
. He was almost certain most of it was directed at him—and maybe Moira. Gideon adored Neve. The kid could do no wrong in Gideon’s eyes. Just then, Brannon was inclined to agree, because both he and Moira were idiots lately.

And none of it mattered.

“Maybe,” Gideon said slowly. “You could
get
to your place. It’s not like it’s far from Ferry.”

Then he disconnected the phone.

Brannon lowered his cell, stared at it, then jammed it into his pocket. He was already almost back to the house, but soaked to the bone now, thanks to the deluge that had started less than five minutes ago. While Neve started asking questions, he cut into the house and pulled open the cabinet that held keys to the cars out in the garage. He studied them, then selected a set for the Jeep.

“I’m heading out to my place,” he said.

“I’ll come.”

He shot Ian a look and shook his head. “No.”

“I’m coming wi’ you,” Ian said flatly.

“No.” Brannon jerked his head toward Ella Sue and Neve. “Something’s not right. Hell, something’s been messed up since the day Hannah wrecked. Yeah, so William’s gone, but somebody broke into Hannah’s apartment, and not just today, either. I want somebody here with Neve and Ella Sue.”

He turned to go out the door and then stopped, looked back at Ian. “And call that prick, Charles. Tell him to hang around Moira until she gets here.”

Ian’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “I’d rather shove my hand in a meat grinder.”

But he pulled his phone out and dialed.

“Charlie! Hello, mate, it’s Ian…”

Brannon, despite his worry, managed to smile a little.

*   *   *

Hannah cut through the seatbelt.

Beau had hit his head the window and he was unconscious, although she didn’t know how long that would last.

She had to get out first.

That was all that mattered.

No reason to be so nervous, huh?

Then why were you gripping the steering wheel hard enough to rip it off?
A hysterical bubble of laughter welled up in her but she swallowed it down, barely.

Between Beau assuring her she didn’t need to be nervous and him about to pull a Hulk in the car, she was pretty certain she’d never been more
nervous
in her life.

But she’d cut through the seat belt and—

“Hannah…”

Beau’s voice was slurred.

She didn’t look at him as she tried to force the door open.

It wasn’t budging. Okay.

She hauled herself up and twisted.

He was staring at her blearily and then made a lunge for her. “You…”

“Don’t!” She reversed her sheers in her hand and went to stab at him.

“Can’t go…” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “What…”

She shoved herself through the window, shoulders first.

“What you—” He swore.

She screamed when he caught her ankle.

“You remember!”

She didn’t waste her breath talking to him. She just jerked away, kicking at him when he tried to stop her.

She got out and pressed low, staying near to the car and using it as a defense in case he tried to shoot. Then she started to crawl. Up ahead, she saw the closest structure—one of the barns.

She was no more than ten feet away when lightning struck again and the stink of ozone filled the air.

She’d been staring at the lights, using them as a beacon.

But in the blink of an eye, that beacon was gone. Drenched, covered in mud, and shuddering with cold, Hannah watched as the lights winked out and everything around her went dark.

She might have stood there, frozen with indecision as a hundred aches began to make themselves known. But two things forced her to move. Car lights swept across the grounds. And she heard somebody shout her name.