Wicked Knight (21 page)

“Got that right, bitch. See? She admitted it was her.” A cackle as loud as if she finally found a deadly potion erupted from Marla's mouth.

Peering closely at the picture, he could feel his heart ready to explode. Whoever did this to Julie would pay. “Julie?”

“Tristan, I...I remem—” her voice broke in mid-sentence.

“Julie, relax.”

“No! This is wrong. I would never do anything like that.” She took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Yeah, right. Here is the proof. How can you deny this?”

“I don't know where you got this picture, Marla, but that's not me. Tristan, I remember posing like this for
Gap
, but not naked. I swear.”

“You couldn't remember? Why? Were you on drugs or drunk when you posed?”

“I don't do drugs and I've gotten drunk only one time.”

“Whore! Men probably took turns having sex with you.”

“Marla, do not talk to—”

The door opened. Teta's head peaked in. “There's a Smith here. He said he's the shark representing the bloodsuckers.”

“He's my lawyer. Send him in.”

Teta's face turned bright red. No doubt wishing she could blast Marla with her Remington.

“Thanks, Teta.”

Tristan wanted to wipe the victory smile off Marla's face, but this wasn't the time. At least not yet. “Smith's your lawyer?”

“Of course. Oh, we told Weatherholt to come, too. He needs to see this. You know what? This time that old lawyer of Laura won't be able to defend you now.”

“Do not speak my mother's name, Marla. Mom may be dead, but she wasn't your equal.”

“What-eveeerr.”

“I should have told you this long time ago, Marla.”

“What?” Marla snapped.

“You are one ugly bitch.”

“Well, this bitch will kick you out of this house with nothing but that shirt you're wearing.”

* * * *

Whatever Julie wanted to say was interrupted by Smith's greeting. Smith flashed her a smile, then he stood beside Marla. Julie noticed the mustached lawyer silently appraising her home. Teta was right. This man was a shark. His brown hair, the same shade as mud, was perfectly combed. The tasseled black shoes he wore shone like his black as coal, piercing, untrusting eyes. The man didn't smile, but sneered. He reminded Julie of a viper waiting to strike and devour his unsuspecting victim. Instant dislike grew quick inside her chest.

There was no need to know the man. Just one look at him and she knew he and Marla were alike. Both were greedy, nasty, and evil.

She wanted to kick Marla and Sebastian out of her house, including the shark. Deep inside she knew the picture was a fake. She would never pose naked for anyone, not even for a million dollars. But how did Marla get it? What about the headshot? Was it one of those shots the
Gap
photographer took that didn't make it in the magazine? Marla planned all of this. She held the ace or she thought she did. But she'd get to the bottom of this. Never in this lifetime would she let these sleaze balls get near her mother's fortune.

Think. Think
.

Weatherholt arrived five minutes after Smith. Julie gave Weatherholt a reassuring smile. Although she thought, it should be the other way around. He, after all, was her attorney. Her mother's old friend wiped his forehead.
Lord, he is nervous
.

“Excuse us.” Tristan grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen.

Julie had to run to keep up with Tristan. Otherwise, he'd end up dragging her. “Tristan, what are you doing?”

In the kitchen, he surprised her by cupping her face for a quick kiss. “Be strong, baby. Before the day is over, this whole thing will be over. I promise.” With both his hands on her hips, he lifted her up and sat her on the kitchen counter. “You need to eat. If you want to face these monsters, you have to have something in your stomach. Sit there.”

“What about them?”

Tristan scoffed. “Do they look like they're starving? Let them wait. Let Marla squirm.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I believe you, love.” He kissed her again, then went on to preparing Bologna sandwiches. He placed a can of Diet Coke in her hand. “Eat and drink. This will be a long fight, love.”

“What about you?”

Tristan opened her legs and stood in between. He wrapped his arms around her waist, staring at her intensely. “As long as you're strong, I will be, too. Eat. I need to make a phone call.”

Julie ate her food, half-listening to Tristan, and half-listening to the murmurs coming from Marla, Sebastian, and Smith. Weatherholt was quiet. Only the breadcrumbs were left on her plate when the doorbell rang.

“Stay here, love. I'll see who it is.”

Good God, her doorbell hardly rang.
Who could it be this time?
Crotcher?

She was wrong.

Bors and Gawain walked in the kitchen like two models walking on a ramp, but with the swagger of cowboys. Both brothers wore faded jeans that hugged their lean waists and long legs. All four brothers were partial to boots. While Gawain wore brown, Bors’ were black. She thought the only things missing on the brothers’ ensemble were gun belts, and they'd be the cowboys she imagined for her next book. Seeing the brothers in the house was like having reinforcement, more ammo to beat Marla. Although she didn't know exactly how the brothers would help her cause.

She sighed—she couldn't help it—when both brothers smiled.

“Hey there. We heard you're in some kind of trouble. Are you okay?” Gawain reached her first. Just as Tristan did earlier, he walked in between her legs and gave her a tight squeeze.

“I'm all right, Gawain.” She felt him kiss the top of her head. He didn't release her right away. The simple gesture touched her deeply where she wanted to cry.

Gawain mumbled something about
kicking asses
and
come to us
before he let go of her. As soon as he stepped back, Bors took his turn. He touched her cheek with his big hand, shaking his head. “Girl, didn't we love you enough? You know you're one of us, right?”

Gosh, did she hurt their feelings by hiding the truth from them and their family? A big lump suddenly appeared in her throat, making it hard to breathe. Afraid she'd cry all over him, she nodded.

“Good. Next time, you come to
us.
This isn't just your fight, Julie. And whether you are married to Tristan or not, you will remain a part of our family. We love you that much.”

“Thank you,” Julie whispered.

Like Gawain, Bors kissed the top of her head and whispered in her ear. “But my brother loves you more in a different way.”

“I don't think so.”
God, I hope you are right, Bors.

Bors kept his hands around Julie. “Is he looking?”

Julie peeked around Bors’ arm and almost gasped at the intensity of Tristan's gaze. He looked like a bull seeing red, ready to charge anyone, anything. “He's looking and he looks ready to kill.”

“See what I mean? Maybe he hasn't realized he loves you, but we know. We've known a long time now. That's why Kirsten went to him to ask for help.” Bors let go of her and leaned against the counter. “Gawain and I will stand witness. Dad, Mom and Kirsten are only a few minutes late. Percival won't make it, but he sends his congratulations.”

Julie took a minute to digest what Bors just said. The Knight family suspected Tristan was in love with her. She glanced at Tristan, whose gaze was still fixed on her face. Her heart began beating against her ribs, making it impossible to hear her own thoughts. Did Bors say that except for Percival, the whole Knight family was coming to witness her wedding with Tristan? “Why?”

“Dad will officiate. Kirsten will kill us if we don't wait for her, Mom stomped her foot and said she didn't want to be left behind.”

“Your mom stomped her foot?”

“Uh-huh. Now what are we going to do about those three? Tell me if you want me to break the son of a bitch's neck, throw Marla out to the Sound, and I'll do it.”

“We'll do this clean and right, Bors. Believe me, all I am thinking right now is to shove all of them in the garbage compactor, but that's not how they will go down,” Tristan said. His tone was low and even, but anger was evident in his eyes. His left eyelid was visibly twitching and he stood as if he was ready to draw.

Cinnamon's nails clicked on the floor, interrupting them. Teta followed. Her lips were drawn tight and she was clutching her purse. “How long are they going to be here? I don't want them contaminating this house with their diseases. Weatherholt looks like he took a dive in the pool with his sweat. Good Lord. What is this? A convention of tall, dark, and handsome men?”

“Oh, I like her.” Gawain grinned at Teta.

“Teta, this is Gawain and Bors. They're Tristan's brothers.”

“Only a blind person wouldn't see that they're all related. So what did your mom do? Offer a goat to God so she could have perfect sons?”

“Don't know about the gods, but I do know she offered herself to our dad—body and soul.”

“Well, I'll try to remember that. Now, what are we going to do with the jerks?”

“Let them wait, Teta.”

Teta pouted. “Jeez. It would be easier if I just blow their heads off with my buddy here,” she patted her purse. “I'm a good shot.”

“We're not shooting anyone, Teta. Thanks for the offer though,” Julie said.

“You're so nice, Julie. Always nice. Fine. I'll stay with Cinnamon outside.” Teta gave the brothers her approving look, then left the kitchen.

“Did I hear her say she's going to blow up heads?” Bors frowned.

“Teta owns a Remington.” Julie didn't elaborate. She didn't have to. The brothers understood.

“Damn, I like her, too. So what's the plan?” Gawain crossed his arms around his chest.

Julie had never seen him this serious.

“We wait for Dad. I think Smith should meet him,” Tristan answered.

“What have they got against you, Julie? Kirsten mentioned something about your romance books.”

“That's what I thought. It's about a picture this time.”

“A picture? Of yours?” asked Bors.

“Yes.”

“So?”

“Bors, I was supposed to be naked in the picture.”

“Supposed to be?”

“Well, you see, the face on the picture is really mine, but I am not sure about the body. I would never pose naked for anyone. And the body looks so perfect with long legs, slim waist, and flat abdomen. Such a beautiful body, but not mine. “

“Beautiful, eh? We'd better take a look then. “

Gawain stopped eating the potato salad he found in the refrigerator, then grinned. “Yup, we'd better.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Fourteen

* * * *

Julie felt like a prisoner walking to meet her maker in her own home. Facing Marla made her stomach cramp so badly she had to bite her lower lip to suppress her groan.

Flanked by three of the most caring and handsome men she'd ever known, she lifted her chin high, then walked back in the living room.

“Well, look carefully at the woman you've been protecting all these years, Weatherholt. Surrounded with men. Did you hear she's engaged with one of them?” Marla's eyes narrowed as she spoke each word.

“You are, Julie? I didn't know. When did you decide—”

“When and how is not the issue here, Weatherholt. The stipulation is... Stipulation, which she,” Marla pointed her finger at Julie, “broke.”

“Now, Marla. Don't be hasty with your accusations.”

“Weatherholt,” Smith started. “You saw the evidence. Julie broke her mother's wish. Julie was to remain a
good girl
.”

It was deliberate. Smith punctuated the last two words. Julie felt her face burn. Smith had already begun to paint her black. “I didn't break my mother's wish.”

“And what do you call posing naked with your legs spread for everyone to see? Ha! Weatherholt, you saw the picture. Now it's time you start doing your job.”

“We need to see the picture,” Bors interjected.

“Who are you?” Sebastian inched behind his mother.

“Agent Bors Knight, FBI.”

Marla's eyes grew big while Sebastian visibly gulped. “You are not part of this. This is between the lawyers, Julie and me. You and those two better step back.”

“Wrong. Julie is part of our family. Her battles are
our
battles. Now, you better think about what you are accusing Julie of, Marla. What you say against her also affects us. If I prove that you are tormenting her just to get her inheritance, I will make sure you, your shark of a lawyer, and your doughboy son will rot in jail.”

Julie thought she heard Sebastian whimper. A little bit of hope crept inside her chest where she actually felt like smiling. But when she glanced at Smith, his intense stare doused her like a cold bucket of water.

“Sebastian, you'd better show these people the bigger picture.”

“Bigger picture?” Julie didn't like this at all. Not one bit.

“We came prepared, Julie. We have the picture blown up. I think your friends here will appreciate looking at a poster size picture of you.”

“Oh my God.”

Sebastian took the tube from Marla. He popped the lid, tipped the tube upside down and out came the poster size picture.

If she had a history of heart disease, she'd think she was having a heart attack.
Good God, this is horrible.
Weatherholt, Smith—she didn't care if they saw her naked. But Bors and Gawain... How was she going to face them if the body was indeed hers? If not, how did they do it? Nothing about the picture showed that it was a fake, yet how did Marla get the head shot? Her manager at
Gap
came to her mind.
Could Rick have something to do with this?
She stopped modeling for
Gap
because of him. Damn him if he did this to her because she hurt his ego by refusing to date him. “Do we have to do this?”

“Oh, yes. This is it for you. Sebastian, show them.”

Julie held her breath when all she wanted to do was bolt. She took a step back and felt a hand on her shoulder, one in the middle of her back and one—she suspected was Tristan's, the way he was kneading her flesh—wrapped around her waist. The brothers were supporting her.