Rush (11 page)

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He found an out of the way corner from where he could see the doorway to the makeup room and punched the phone on. “Vega.”

“The cops are gone.” Malcolm said. “They left a right mess.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I dropped the key off at your place. The doorman has it.”

“Thanks.”

“I got news.” Malcolm’s voice held the excited quiver of a boy who’d pulled the prize from a cereal box.

“Yeah?”

“That background you wanted on Mi?”

With an eye on the doorway, he rolled up to the balls of his feet, his body tensing. “Yeah.”

“There’s no record of her ever having a child.”

He relaxed back down to his heels, but the tension stayed with him. There was more.

“She’s never been appointed a legal guardian either.”

“Just cut to it,” Lucas ground out.

“The only record I could find of a child close to her was a brother born about fourteen years ago. Ethan Derek Easley born July twenty-nine died six months later on January eleven. Cause of death was listed as SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.”

Lucas thought about the recent photo of Mi and the older woman with a baby in a park. The car seat. The crib. He hadn’t bought her explanation about buying those things for Lucy at rummage sales. They’d looked used. And often. Unless she babysat regularly it just didn’t add up.

“Anything else?”

“She makes a very decent income, but her bank balance is pathetically low. She has little debt other than her house. No savings. I can’t find where her money actually goes. But whatever she’s spending it on, she’s paying cash, leaving no credit trail.” Malcolm let the end of the sentence hang with all kinds of supposition tacked onto it— gambling, drugs, the list went on and on. None of it was good.

Fuck.

“You want me to keep digging?”

That sick feeling he’d gotten, when Vanessa had thrown herself to her knees in front of him begging him to forgive her, dropped into his belly and lay there like a pile of lumber, hard and unrelenting.

“No,” he managed. She would have to confide in him on her own.

“Sorry, man.”

“Yeah.”
Me too,
he silently added. “Thanks. I owe you.”

“No. I think giving this kind of news is a favor that should never be repaid.” Malcolm hung up.

He shoved his phone deep into his pocket and took a moment to wipe the disappointment from his face. He almost wished he hadn’t asked Malcolm to check out Mi. Almost.

He clamped down his emotions, trying not to acknowledge how hard disillusionment rode him. Sifting through the information Malcolm had provided, he compared it with what he’d seen, heard, and surmised about Mi. What was she hiding? And how much of what she was keeping to herself was going to turn around and bite him in the ass?

Mi came out of the makeup room and glanced around until she spotted him. She smiled, her face lit with what looked like genuine pleasure at the sight of him. His forehead hurt and he realized he was scowling back at her. As she neared, he lost all perspective, his vision narrowing down to a point that began and ended with her as though she were a single candle in a darkened room. She came even with him and he realized he’d forgotten to breathe. With his sudden intake of air came the recognition that this tiny woman could do him more harm than a grenade strapped to his chest. It scared him even more that he might be willing to take that risk.

“I’m ready to go.” She glanced around the studio. “Is Cal still here?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She frowned and worried her lip, her gaze darting away. She seemed to be struggling over what to say next. “I… I’m still not quite comfortable with how this works.” She made a back and forth motion between them. “I have plans to have dinner with Lucy tonight. I almost forgot until she just texted me.” She held out her phone, the screen dark. “I can cancel.”

“Up to you.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Hey, Mi,” one of the crew guys interrupted. “Crosby wants to see you in his office.”

“Thanks, Will.”

Lucas trailed after Mi, contemplating calling Cal to ask him to put someone else on Mi. But no. He owed Cal and he’d given his friend his word. Lucas never went back on his word. Never. He’d have to find another way to deal with Mi’s deceit. Remembering what he was there to do was a start. Keeping his hands off her and his mind from fantasizing about the things he’d like to do for her… to her… with her… would be near impossible.

They rounded the corner and a man Lucas had never seen before sat in the visitor’s chair in Crosby’s office. He automatically went for his weapon, stilling when Mi put a hand out to stop him. She recognized the man.

“My brother, Jason.”

It took a moment for Lucas to peg the blond-haired kid now grown from the photos at Mi’s house. There was no resemblance between them at all. Where Mi was dark, he was fair. She was petite almost fragile looking, he was tall and broad shouldered. They might be siblings, but they looked nothing alike.

Mi halted in the doorway and cast a quick worried glance back over her shoulder at Lucas before addressing her brother. “What are you doing here?”

“Doing you a damn favor,” Jason snapped. “The least you could do is not make me wait. I’ve got a life, you know.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here. No one told me.”

“Whatever.” He waved a hand toward Lucas, his lip curling in a sneer. “Who’s big, tall, and grouchy?”

She glanced back and forth between the two men, clearly not wanting to make introductions.

Lucas wasn’t going to make things easy on her. He stuck out his hand. “Lucas Vega.”

“My boyfriend,” Mi finished.

Rising from his chair, Jason ignored Lucas’s hand. He stood nearly half a foot shorter than Lucas. But he used his height advantage against Mi, crowding and intimidating her. The punk.

“Boyfriend? Damn it, Mi.
This
is why you called me all desperate for my help? I’ve got better things to do than babysit a crazy lady so you can screw around with the Hulk here.”

Lucas wedged himself between Mi and her brother, putting her behind him, and turned his own height advantage against Jason. “You’re going to want to watch how you speak to your sister.”

Jason hitched himself up, assessing Lucas and his chances against him. “What are you, her body guard?”

Lucas felt Mi flinch behind him. He took an aggressive, last warning step toward Jason, backing him up a couple of paces.

Jason leaned around Lucas, careful not to touch him. “Call your dog off, Mi or I’m outta here and you’re on your own.”

Mi gripped Lucas’s arm, trying to pull him away from Jason. “Please. It’s okay. Let me talk to him.”

Lucas spared Jason one last look of reproof, then turned his attention to Mi. “I don’t like him.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Jason muttered behind him.

“He’s an ass. But he’s your brother.” Lucas continued, then turned back to Jason. “You’re going to watch how you treat your sister. Got me? I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he said to Mi as he left.

Mi watched as Lucas shut the door behind him. She put a hand against it to make sure it was fully closed and took a deep, steadying breath before she dealt with her brother.

“What the fuck, Mi? You call me—”

“Keep your voice down,” she scolded. He might be bigger than she, but she was the oldest.

“You call me—” he began again in a lower tone. “—to help with mom so you can run around with your new boyfriend. What. The. Fuck. Mi. I have a life, too. A job. You know I hate it when you drag me into mom’s shit.”

“I didn’t drag you into mom’s shit—as you put it—for no reason. There’s…” Mi didn’t know how much she could tell Jason, if anything at all. He was her brother, but the sad fact was he wasn’t reliable unless it suited his mood or there was something in it for him. She’d called him out of sheer desperation. He’d agreed reluctantly. His cooperation always came with an expiration date. It looked like time was up.

“You’re the worst liar,” he accused.

“Why can’t you just help me for once? Give me a break. She’s your mother, too.”

“You know I can’t pretend like you do. I hate it, Mi.
Hate
it.”

“I’m not asking you to pretend.”

He laughed, a smug, know-it-all chuckle that chipped away at Mi’s nerves like an ice pick. “I can’t believe we’re related.”

“
Please
, Jas.”

His face transformed, turning sharp and calculating. A coldness crept over her and she wondered not for the first time why she continued to protect him. He thought she was an idiot. If he only knew how much he owed her, how she kept the secret that provided him the
life
he so coveted. How much she’d sacrificed for them all.

“Put in a good word for me with that chick you were just talking to,” he said.

“Who? Tracey?”

“I don’t know her name. Brown hair, big boobs, a mouth that looks like it could suck—”

“Stop!”

“Whatever. You don’t need my help
that
bad, I guess.”

He made to go around her and out the door, but she put a hand on his arm, stopping him. She looked up into the same winter-blue sky eyes their mother had and couldn’t stop the bending of her heart. He was her brother. The only brother she had left. She’d do anything for him. Too bad the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“Tracey’s my friend.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and she noticed he’d been working out, bulking up. Not that he ever needed help with the ladies. He was way too handsome for his own good. Women swarmed like flies to horse manure, which she was sure he was shoveling her direction now.

“Since when do you need help talking to a woman?” she asked.

“I don’t.”

“So what gives?”

“If you don’t want my help, I’ll just go talk to her myself.”

Now she got it. It wasn’t about his needing an introduction, it was about who was in control. Him. It was her fault he was the way he was. She’d done the best she could raising him, but her best wasn’t even close to good enough. He’d grown up in a household out of control. She could hardly blame him now for trying to claim a little control where he could. Even if it cost her.

“Fine,” she agreed on a sigh.

“Yes. I.
Certainly
. Am. Mom says hi, by the way. She wanted to come with me, but it was
Ethan’s
nap time.” His lips pressed into an unattractive line. “Did I mention the part where I. Hate. Pretending?
Hate
it.”

Mi eased into a chair and closed her eyes, rubbing at her temples. She hated it, too. The pretending. But as long as mom was stable. What choice was there?

“I know.” She pulled in a breath and exhaled hard, showing him how exhausted this made her. She was so tired of it all. The tightrope walk between the secret that kept their mother sane and the one that kept them all out of jail. Thirteen years was a long time to hold it all together.

“I don’t know why you do it, Mi.” He looked down at her, a lock of blond hair falling over one eye, and she saw the boy he’d been. The lonely boy who had no friends because his mother embarrassed him. The fearful boy who spent all his time alone in his room rather than face what awaited him if he crossed his mother. The angry boy who got thought of last because he didn’t need as much attention as their mother demanded.

She stood up and wrapped her arms around her brother, thinking-
No, you don’t. You don’t have any idea what I’ve done for you. What I continue to do. I’d do for anything for you. You and mom are all I have.

He took a half step back in surprise and then he slowly enveloped her in a hug that was tentative at best. At worst it was awkward and unwanted. He released her almost as soon as he’d started and moved to the door.

“Come on, Sis. Introduce me to Tracey of tremendous ta-tas,” he threw out over his shoulder as he stepped into the hall.

They each had their own defense mechanisms she guessed. His was a crude attempt a humor, playing his role as the worthless younger brother to the hilt. Hers was avoidance, dealing only with what was in front of her and then only if she had to. She wondered what they’d be to each other if one of them suddenly decided not to play their part anymore. Would they like each other or continue to barely tolerate one another? Would they even recognize each other? Would they recognize themselves?

Who was Jason if he wasn’t constantly disappointing her? Who was she if she wasn’t constantly disappointing him? Who were they as a family without the blame, resentment and anger?

*****

Mi met Lucy at a local Tex-Mex restaurant that boasted thirty kinds of
quesadillas
and chocolate caramel
nachos
that was Lucy’s craving of the week. Mi tried not to think about Jason or her mom, but it was always there, throbbing and flaring into new pain like a chronic toothache. Lucas had been silent on the drive over. Mi wasn’t sure what that was about. Maybe he was tired of following her around. She wondered about his life. He’d pretty much given up his for hers. From what he’d told her he seemed to be at a crossroads, deciding what to do for employment. She didn’t think he had a girlfriend, at least she hoped not after the kisses they’d shared.

Thinking about those kisses, she tried not to shift in her seat. Heat shimmered within her, like the waves still dancing over the pavement even though it was nearly dusk now. She pretended to look over the menu while she waited for Lucy to show, watching Lucas through lowered lashes. He’d situated himself at a nearby table with his back to the wall and a clear view of the room. The sight of him did funny things to her. That low hum pulsed almost constantly, taking up residence in places long neglected.

Not smart, she reminded herself. Their differences stacked up higher than the Dallas skyline. He’d been clear about his views on what she did for a living. Jason’s visit had reminded her of all the reasons she hadn’t gotten involved with anyone seriously in a long time. Then there were the differences in their lifestyles. Images of his home superimposed over images of hers, bringing the depressing reality that they came from very different backgrounds. And to top it off he hated her brother. Well, she couldn’t really blame him for that one.