Red (42 page)

B
ecky Lynn chose a brilliant red sheath for the press conference. In her matching three-inch heels, she topped six feet, taller than most men. Smiling to herself, she crossed the Westin Bonaventure's dramatic six-story atrium lobby to the elevator banks, her stride jaunty. She drew glances, some of appreciation, some of surprise; when she could, she met them boldly, smiling and nodding.

Walking tall today, Becky Lynn Lee. Walking mighty tall.

She stepped into the glass-enclosed elevator, and breathed deeply through her nose. She wouldn't confuse the flutter of nerves in her stomach for fear. For the first time in her life, she was unafraid—of her father, or what other people thought of her, or of anything else. No one's opinion of her mattered but her own. And she was damn proud of who she was.

The elevator whisked her to the third floor, she stepped off. A group had assembled outside the meeting room at the other end of the corridor. She had eyes only for Jack. He waited for her, slightly apart from the rest of the group, fidgeting and pacing, worried, she knew, about her.

She had someone in her corner. Someone strong who loved her. Her lips lifted, happiness filling her to near bursting. She wasn't alone; she never would be again.

He looked up. Their gazes met. He smiled and the inside of her lit up like a Christmas tree.
He loved her.
Holding on to that magical thought, she started for him, he for her. They met halfway, and he caught her hands, lacing their fingers together.

“You're ready for this?” he asked softly.

“Completely.”

He searched her gaze, his filled with loving concern. “They might throw you some curves, just keep focused and stay cool.”

“You worry too much.”

“I love you so much.” He cupped her face in his palms. “I don't want there to be any surprises for you. I don't want you upset or hurt.”

“It's going to be fine.” She laid a finger lovingly against his mouth. “I love you, too.”

His expression told her more than a million more words could, and taking his hand, she walked with him down the hallway. The group began filing into the meeting room, all except one man—her brother, Randy. Her steps faltered. He watched them approach, hands fisted at his sides, his square jaw jutted defensively.

Jack glanced at her. “What?”

She squeezed his hand. “It's my…it's my brother, Randy.”

Jack followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes. “You want me to—”

“I need to do this. I can do this.” Even as a knot of apprehension settled in the pit of her stomach, she closed the remaining distance between them. “Hello, Randy.”

He jutted his chin a fraction more, and narrowed his eyes. “I know you don't want me here, Becky Lynn. But I'm not leaving.”

“Why?” she asked, tilting up her chin. “Have you come to further his lies?”

The line of his jaw softened, as did the expression in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “No. I've come for you, Becky Lynn. Because it's the right thing to do, and because…you're my sister.”

She held out her hand, happiness spiraling through her, another wound beginning to heal. “Then I'm glad you're here.”

He stared at her hand a moment, his expression stunned, then grasped it. She felt him tremble and curled her fingers more tightly around his.

“Ready?” Jack asked. “They're waiting.”

Becky Lynn met his gaze and nodded. Together, they entered the packed room and walked up the center aisle to the podium. She had drawn a crowd, she saw; even
Entertainment Tonight
had come. She heard the whispers, the murmured questions and smiled to herself, ready for them.

Her love on her one side, her long-lost brother on her other, she faced the reporters. Head held high, she began, “My name is Becky Lynn Lee and I was born in Bend, Mississippi…”