JACKED (5 page)

A knock at the door woke them both. Savannah sat up and looked around the cabin, trying to remember where she was. Coats, pants, sweaters and other items of clothing littered the floor. The memory of the morning and last night flooded her mind. Jack opened one eye and crooked his finger.

“Come to me, wife,” he commanded.

The knock came again. She panicked. Someone was banging on their door and both of them were naked.

“What if it’s urgent?” she whispered.

He got up, went to the bathroom, emerging a moment later in a bathrobe. He raked his fingers through his hair, but it didn’t do much good.

He flashed a grin at her. “I’ll take care of it, naked girl. Get under the blanket.”

She burrowed under the bedding. A flush of embarrassment heated her face. This. Was. Shameless. Lying in bed, naked in the middle of the…morning? Afternoon? She didn’t even know what time it was.

A man’s voice at the door made her prick her ears. Something about Savannah and family and emergency. Her breath stalled. Jack spoke and while she couldn’t hear his exact response he no longer spoke with a light-hearted tone. His words were clipped. Authoritative. The door shut and the lock snapped.

The bed dipped beside her and she pulled the sheet back to find Jack looking down at her.

“We need to pack up,” he said quietly. “Your father’s not doing well. My mother just called the hotel and said they think he’s had a heart attack.”

“Holy shit,” she whispered. It wasn’t possible. A heart attack? Her father was fifty-seven, ran an eight minute mile and joked about old age being for other people and by other people he meant slackers. There was no way he’d had a heart attack.

Jack got up and rummaged through his bag. He powered up his phone and cursed when it beeped. “My phone’s dead. I need to charge it. Find yours.”

She pulled hers out of her coat pocket. There were no messages, but that would probably change when she got a little nearer to civilization. Then the phone would probably blow up.

“Charlotte showed him the picture of us,” she whispered.

Jack shook his head. “We don’t know anything right now.”

She watched him search his bags and pull out another phone. It was bigger than a cell phone and when he pushed several buttons it responded with an electronic trill.

He dialed and a moment later spoke, in the commanding tone she was so used to. He was ordering a plane, something to take them from Jackson Hole back to Texas. Her thoughts were so jumbled she didn’t hear half of what he said, but when he hung up, he pulled her from her confusion.

“We need to go. The plane will be ready in an hour.” He crossed the room and cupped her shoulders. His eyes were serious now, tension tightening his features. “I’m going to call the hotel and order a car. Go shower. I’ll start packing up.”

She drifted through the next half hour. While he showered and dressed she wandered the cabin, gathering her belongings and dropping them into her suitcase. The last time she’d spoken to her father, he’d told her she was an embarrassment to him. His face had turned red and for one terrible moment she wondered then if he might have a stroke or something. No one raged like Weston Michaels.

He’d poured himself a third scotch and told her to get out of his study. Out of his home. She’d fled, grateful to escape his wrath. The picture she’d sent of her and Jack was a cop-out. She realized that now. It had been a way to avoid being the one to tell her father that she’d married Jack.

Snow fell softly, but by the time they were in the car, it was coming down steadily. Jack sat beside her in the backseat, holding her hand, enveloping it with comforting warmth.

The car drove onto the tarmac and stopped beside the jet. A Gulfstream. She didn’t know much about airplanes, but she recognized the luxury aircraft. The driver got out, circled around and opened her door.

“I’ll get the luggage. Get on,” Jack said.

Wind gusted and she pulled her coat more tightly around her. Icy flecks of freezing rain stung her face. It was too warm in the plane to keep her jacket on, so she draped it over the armrest of a leather couch. Sinking into a plush seat, she took her phone from her pocket to see if she had service. Thirty messages. Several were from the airline personnel office, with a polite notice that she needed to sign some “Termination Documents”.

She drew a sharp breath of surprise.
Termination Documents
…? The wording made her wince. But she shook her head. It didn’t matter now. That part of her life had come to an end and she was starting a new, completely unexpected chapter. Again.

Scrolling down she came across a message from Heidi. “
Omg. Grrl! Did he fire you? Hrd ur no longer w company. Wth?”

There were no messages from her sisters or her stepmother, certainly none from her father. She looked up the hospital number and began dialing it, but paused then cancelled the call. She would wait. When she got on the ground she’d call. Maybe. Or just go to the hospital.

Shit…

She looked out the window. Mists wreathed the mountains. They swirled and parted, allowing a shaft of sunlight to break through. The light was gone almost instantly, swallowed by a mass of clouds the color of gunmetal.

A tug at her waist startled her. Jack secured her seatbelt and stroked her face. Flecks of snow clung to his hair, his eyes shone with gentle warmth. A rush of emotion came over her.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Something to drink, ma’am?”

She managed a weak smile and shook her head. “Are we going to be able to get out?”

“We’re clear for take-off.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you home.”

By dusk they were landing at Salinas Pass and twenty minutes later were leaving the airport. Jack loaded the luggage into his truck while Savannah tried to call her sisters. First she tried Charlotte and when she got no answer, she tried Elizabeth.

Jack came to the passenger side. “Well?”

“No one’s answering,” she said, her heart pounding with worry. “What if my dad is dead or on life support or something? Maybe they can’t answer because neither can talk on the phone, because they’re so upset…”

He coaxed her into the truck. “Call my mother. She’ll answer.”

Shutting the door, he cursed softly and rounded the truck to get in on the driver’s side. Savannah’s sisters might be brilliant, but they were flighty and liked to gang up on her, to bully her into following the rules, their father’s rules. Something about all this didn’t feel right to him. He didn’t want to say anything, but doubt tugged at him.

“Hello Eleanor.” Savannah’s knuckles were white from gripping the phone so hard.

Jack heard his mother’s voice. She was cheerful, her voice almost singsong. He growled softly. Weston Michaels wasn’t dead, that much was certain.

“They didn’t want to keep him overnight? Just to watch him?” Savannah asked.

He pulled the truck onto the highway. His mother spoke some more, but he couldn’t make out much.

“Can you ask Dad if I can come see him?”

Jack gripped the steering wheel. The plaintive tone in her voice did something to him, made a protective instinct rear its head and snarl. He’d need to rein that in. For now. No need for any extra stress or conflict. Not yet anyway.

Savannah said goodbye and hung up the phone. “He’s expecting me. They’re at home. My sisters are there too.”

Why the hell didn’t those two girls answer the phone, he wanted to ask, but didn’t. He already knew. It was because their father had forbidden them from doing just that. He wanted to dislike them but couldn’t really. Elizabeth and Charlotte were suck-ups that’s for sure but Weston was a tyrant. Jack had seen plenty of those types in the Marines. Men who ruled by intimidation.

They drove in silence. It didn’t take long to get to Weston’s part of town. Wide, leafy streets, sprawling homes set back, expanses of perfectly manicured lawns and flowerbeds. They pulled into the driveway, parked and Jack came around to her side of the truck. He kissed her and took her hand.

When they arrived at the front door, his mother waited. A smile tugged at her lips but didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her plastic surgeon might be brilliant with sagging chins but he still needed to work on his treatment of women’s mouths.

After two, maybe three, surgeries, Eleanor had three different smiles. The one that started out shaky and then dissolved into happy tears. That one was rare. Births, graduations and weddings. Then there was the smile that she pasted on for public events, the one that Jack knew meant the party or fundraiser or gala should have been over with an hour earlier. The third smile was
also
a fake smile, one she wore just before she picked up the nearest plate and flung it.

She was wearing the third type of smile, affixed to her lipsticked mouth, when she opened the door. Her hand, Jack noticed, was clenched into a tight fist at her side.

She kissed Savannah on the cheek. “Your daddy is resting comfortably.”

“What did the doctors say?” Savannah asked, her voice breaking.

“I didn’t go with him to the ER. I wasn’t home when he got the chest pains. He actually drove himself there and back.”

“Holy
crap
!” Savannah shook her head. “Who drives themselves to the ER?”

“Your father apparently. If I’d been there, I would have raised hell about them sending him home. Trust me. I’m trying my utmost not to make a fuss. I’m not speaking to him till I calm down. Maybe by morning. He’s in the study.”

Jack frowned. Study? The man just had a heart attack and he was in his
study
? Maybe the fact that he wasn’t groaning in bed, attached to tubes and wires, was a good sign. It would be a bitch if the bastard keeled over now.

Savannah turned to him as if waiting instructions.

“Go on, but wait for me,” Jack said. He was glad she was seeking him out to help her with this. If Weston was suffering it would hit her harder than anyone and he wanted to be there to support her.

“Yes, go on, Savannah, I’d like a word with your
step-brother
,” his mother said.

Savannah paled and turned to go down the hallway.

He waited until she was out of earshot. “What is it, Eleanor?”

“You just had to go prove him wrong didn’t you?” His mother’s eyes flashed with fury. “He said you needed to stay away from her and you did the exact opposite. Now look what you’ve done.”

He scoffed. “His heart attack is my fault?”

“Of course it is. Poor Weston slaved his whole life to give his children the best. He loves his girls and you can be sure he wanted Savannah to be with a man who loved her. Not someone who saw her as a challenge. You don’t even
like
her, Jack. How
could
you?”

Jack shrugged. “I didn’t like her at first, but-”

“And she’s your step-
sister
. You can’t marry your step-sister.”

Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. “I didn’t even know Savannah until you married Weston. It’s not like we played in the same playpen together. I met her when she was nineteen and we didn’t even hit it off.”

His mother glared. “Didn’t hit it off?”

Jack winced. Her voice was starting to sound shrill.

She squinted and tilted her head. “The two of you hated each other.”

He felt his lips twitch. Savannah didn’t like him in the beginning. That was true. She thought he was arrogant and above everyone else. She told him as much. The few times they spent together, holidays and such, he’d talked about kayaking in Chile, or diving in Baja, trying to make conversation.

He took any excuse to talk with her. She’d been remotely interested, but whenever they spent more than five minutes together, the hostilities began. He still remembered telling her he didn’t think women had any business in combat, and as a Marine, his opinion counted more than her silver spoon, private girl’s school notions.

His mother folded her arms across her chest. Her stance, the furious expression, he hadn’t seen any of that in years. Not since he was a rebellious teen-ager. Back then he got into plenty of trouble. He looked for it. Maybe even invited it. He’d brawled. Cut classes and defied anyone in authority. He and his mother locked horns from the time he was twelve until he was seventeen. She’d remedied the constant conflict by sending him off to military school.

She just thought he was misbehaving. Being irresponsible. Pranking his stepfather by marrying Savannah. He’d fought in Afghanistan, led soldiers into battle, owned and operated a fucking airline, but from the expression on her face he could tell she wanted to take away his allowance. Send him to bed without dinner.

He lowered his voice. “Savannah doesn’t hate me anymore. I was the one to help her out when everyone else hung her out to dry. Even you.”

His mother spoke from between clenched teeth. “I wanted her to make amends with her father.”

“She was about to be kicked out of the dorm. She hadn’t eaten for how long, I don’t know. A few days I’m guessing. Too proud to ask for help from her friends. She had
no
money, zero,
when I came to talk to her. He was trying to force her hand. She was scared and alone. Not one person in her family was answering her calls because why? Because she was an addict? A felon? No. Because she wasn’t following daddy’s orders.”

His mother blinked as she took all the history. Clearly she hadn’t known the entire story. Of course she hadn’t. Weston wouldn’t have told her any of this. He probably never showed this side of himself to her because she would have promptly handed his ass to him.

She drew herself up. “I still think you shouldn’t meddle in their family’s business.”

“A minute ago I was her brother. Now I’m meddling.” He strode past her. “Seems like it would be one or the other.”

“Jack!” she whispered.

He turned and held up his hands. “I’m not going to make a scene, mother. I’m trying to make peace. Believe it or not.”

Turning, he headed the direction of the study, and found Savannah waiting. Wordlessly, he took her hand. To access Weston’s inner sanctum, they had to walk down an arched hallway, paneled with dark mahogany and lined with framed photos on one side. The pictures displayed his three girls through the years. Montessori, elementary, high school, each image showed the girls’ progression through their education. Debate tournaments, swim meets, school plays, each photo showed Weston beaming, his arm around one of the girls while she held a trophy or ribbon.

Jack rapped his knuckles on the door and waited. He might not like Weston Michaels, but the man had at one time been a colonel and Jack was only a captain. He needed to show respect and wait to be admitted. Old habits die hard.

Savannah’s hand felt warm, almost clammy. She stood behind him and he knew she was afraid to look, afraid to find her father attached to an IV or clutching his chest or suffering in some way that could only be her fault.

Instead her father held a scotch and twirled an unlit cigar. He grinned, rested his elbow on his desk and nodded.

“Come on in,
son
. We need to talk about your annulment.”

Weston sat at his desk, a smug expression on his face. A lamp on his desk cast a glow around the study. The bookcase behind him was illuminated, hard white light glinting off the framed photographs, a tribute of his achievements. Military honors. Legal accolades. Dozens of pictures of him shaking hands with politicians and wealthy clients.

Savannah stood behind him and Jack could practically feel her terror. He squeezed her hand, stroked his thumb across her wrist. “You’re looking surprisingly well. Sir.”

Weston set his scotch down, then cut the tip of his cigar and struck his lighter. A spark burst to flame and he puffed until the butt glowed. He leaned back in his chair and nodded. “False alarm.”

Jack clenched his jaw. False alarm? He watched as Weston smoked his cigar. He wanted to stalk across the room and yank the man up by the collar. Shake him.

Savannah stepped around him and spoke softly. “I’m glad it was a false alarm.”

Weston’s smirk faltered. “Savannah.”

“I was worried,” Savannah said. “I wondered if I was going to see you again. And here you are. In your study.”

Weston’s expression remained inscrutable. “The doctor was worried too. It was touch and go for a little while.”

Jack stood rooted to the ground trying to control his anger. False alarm. The man was lying. Jack had taken his bride out from their hideaway, hunted down a plane and flown her home. For what? A false alarm. Fuck that. Weston was lying, he was sure of it. He hated how this man manipulated his daughters.

“Sir,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “We’ll have to come back some time when you’ve rested and we’ll have a
talk
.”

Weston leapt to his feet. “I put everything I had into my daughters. I wished to hell I’d had a son, but I didn’t, so I worked with what I had. My girls are my investments. My life. I won’t have them take teaching jobs and be glorified babysitters or take stewardess jobs and be glorified waitresses. I raised them to do important work. To have meaningful lives.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. What a piece of work this man was. Did he even know the first thing about Savannah? Did he understand her passions and dreams? It was all about him. What he wanted. His ego.

Jack spoke softly. “Whatever my wife does, whatever job or role she takes, won’t have
glorified
in front of it,
Sir.
She’ll do that job to the best of her ability. She’ll do it like no one before and she’ll do it in only the way Savannah can. With all her heart. And I don’t know what that will be, but what she wants is
exactly
what I want. Savannah isn’t like anyone else I’ve ever known and I believe in her. I want her to follow her path, to go after her dreams.
Sir
.”

Savannah stepped forward. “Dad…”

Weston blinked. “Baby.”

“I love Jack. We’re together now.”

Her father’s face twisted into an ugly grimace. “You think Jack loves you? He just wanted to take you from me. Because I told him to stay away. That’s all this is. Some sort of sick game.”

Jack gritted his teeth and it took every ounce of self-control to keep his temper. Weston’s face was turning an angry red. He felt Savannah recoil at her father’s angry words.

“That’s not true,” she said. “Jack cares for me and supports me getting my education degree.”

Weston scoffed. “Sure he does. He was the one to tell me about your teacher’s degree in the first place.”

Savannah drew a sharp breath. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and then slowly looked back at her father. “What are you talking about?”