Blackwater 2 - Vance's rules (4 page)

“Very serious. I never wanted to move away in the first place. That was Dad’s idea. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Now I do. And even though there are some bad memories associated with Blackwater, it still feels more like home to me than anywhere else.”

He watched her with suspicion. It was clear to see in his gorgeous eyes, and Shayla wished she could ignore it, pretend it wasn’t there. “You’re in Blackwater for another reason too,” he said.

Shayla sat back down and picked up her napkin. She crumpled it in her hand, unfolded it, then crumpled it again. Okay, so she was nervous, but who wouldn’t be? Taking a deep breath, she slowly released it before saying, “It’s way past time you learned the truth, Vance.”

“I agree,” he replied in a tone that gave no hint to his mood.

“Before we go down this road, though, you need to understand a few things.”

He propped his elbows on the table and crossed his arms on the tabletop. “I’m all ears.”

“You remember my parents?” she asked, jumping right in.

“Who could ever forget them? Your dad was the richest man around. A big-shot lawyer. Your mom was a stay-at-home mom. Nice lady.”

Shayla nodded. “Dad was a district attorney and a very good one. Never lost a case. Mom basically took care of everything else.”

“All really interesting, but what does that have to do with you and me?”

“My dad is the reason we broke up, Vance.”

Vance stiffened. “Come again?”

“He wasn’t just hell in the courtroom. Dad was hell at home too.” Shayla looked down at the table, scared all of a sudden. It was as if that by telling Vance her family’s dirty secrets, her father would come back from the grave and punish her all over again. Even dead he intimidated her.

She heard Vance shifting around, and she looked up to see a dark scowl marring his handsome face. “What are you saying, Shay?”

“Dad’s motto was a little different than your mom’s. He believed that if you spared the rod, then you spoiled the child. Or in Dad’s case, it was the belt he rarely spared.”

Vance fisted his hands on the table. “Are you saying he beat you?” His gaze narrowed. “If so, how come I never saw any marks on you?”

She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. Her heart raced and her palms grew damp. It’d always been very clear she was never to speak of what went on inside the Riggs home. Her father had drilled it into her head on numerous occasions. “Oh, not just me. My mom too. He thrived on pain, but he was always careful not to hit so hard that he left any permanent marks. A few welts that would go away in a day or two, but that’s it.”

Vance stood and began pacing the room. He was silent for several minutes before he turned and glared at her. “You talk about him in past tense. Does that mean he’s dead?”

She nodded. “He passed away five years ago. A brain embolism. He died sitting in his study going over a court case.”

“Good, saves me the trouble of hunting him down.”

Shayla didn’t know what to say to Vance’s protective attitude. He was an honorable man and would view any sort of domestic abuse as unforgivable. Instead, she stuck to the words she’d rehearsed. “Anyway, Dad’s the one who forced me to break it off with you. He’s the reason I wrote that letter.”

Vance snorted. She watched him go to the refrigerator and take out a beer. After popping the top and taking several swigs, he said, “The prick never liked me. Never liked any of the Jenningses.” He placed the beer on the counter and looked over at her. “Still, you could’ve told me in person. None of what you’ve said so far explains why you chose to take the coward’s way out and send me a letter.” He stepped closer and pointed a finger at her. “A letter, Shay! Do you know what I went through when I realized you were already gone by the time I read that damn scrap of paper?”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she had to work hard to keep them in check. “I’m sorry, but it was the only way I could keep you safe.”

Vance stood there and stared at her for several seconds. Once he was calm, he sat in the chair he’d vacated earlier. “You said before you were trying to protect me. From what?”

“Do you remember that day Dad caught us kissing outside the school?”

“Yeah. He was pretty damn worked up about it.” His jaw went rigid. “Did he hurt you that day?”

Shayla looked down at the table. “No, but he threatened to destroy you. He was in a rage and swore he’d ruin the Blackwater Diner if I didn’t stop seeing you.”

“Bullshit,” Vance shot back. “He was just spouting off.”

Shayla’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Think about it. What could he possibly do to me? I wasn’t a juvenile delinquent, and my parents ran a good, honest business. He wouldn’t have had anything on us.”

She quirked a brow, completely flabbergasted by Vance’s uninformed opinion of her father. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she muttered. “My dad never made threats. If he said he would destroy you and your family, then he would’ve done whatever it took to make that a reality. When I said he never lost a case, I wasn’t trying to imply he won them by honorable means. You’re measuring his values as if they were the same as yours. Believe me, they weren’t.”

“Okay, I’ll concede that your dad was a crooked son of a bitch. I never liked him, not from the start. And after what he did to you, I’d beat him to death if he were still alive. But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t get word to me
after
you moved away. You could’ve gotten in touch with me somehow. Through Mom and Dad, if nothing else.”

Shayla slumped in her seat. This was the part she’d dreaded. The part she couldn’t forgive herself for. “I-I was scared. That’s my only excuse, Vance.”

“Of your dad?” he asked, his voice softer than before.

She bit her lip and looked down at the napkin in her hand. God, she’d all but shredded the poor thing. She dropped the pieces on the table and said, “Yes. I hate to admit this, but he still scares the hell out of me.”

She felt a strong hand covering hers, and she glanced across the table to see understanding in Vance’s expression. “It’s okay to be afraid. It doesn’t make you weak, Shay.”

She couldn’t handle the kindness she witnessed in Vance at that moment. It made her want too much. It made her wish they hadn’t lost the last twelve years. Instead, she focused on her confession. “When he moved us to Florida, I thought Dad would be happy. After all, he’d gotten what he wanted, a dutiful daughter and a promotion. But things only got worse for my mom and me.”

Vance released her hand and sat back. “Christ, how could it be any worse?”

“Dad turned into a tyrant. One of us was always on the receiving end of his violent temper. It didn’t stop until Mom got sick.”

“Sick?”

She nodded. “Breast cancer. When Mom was diagnosed, Dad grew distant. Stayed late at the office. Meetings out of town, that sort of thing. We rarely saw him. Then he died. God help me, but it felt like a blessing for both of us. We no longer had to walk around on eggshells, no more late-night rants. Best of all, no more belt. Still, that left me to care for Mom, which I didn’t mind doing, but it did sort of cause me to put my own life on hold for a little while.”

He nodded. “How is your mom now?”

“Oh, I’m happy to report that she totally kicked cancer’s butt. And it gave her a sense of self-respect that I’d never seen in my mom before.” She grinned. “She’s living it up in Florida as we speak. Even has a new man in her life. Fred is a really sweet guy and nothing at all like Dad, thank goodness.”

“So, let me get this straight. Your piece-of-shit dad threatened you, beat you and your mom, threatened me and my family, and then you took care of your sick mom, and still somehow found the strength to start your own business.”

“That’s the short version, I suppose, yes.”

He stood and walked toward the sink, then turned and looked out the window for a time. Shayla couldn’t gauge his mood now. Would he call her a liar and send her on her way, or would he give them a chance to make up for lost time? She waited. Waited and hoped.

Chapter Five

Vance couldn’t look at Shayla. Not after everything he’d just learned. He felt like a total shit for the things he’d thought about her over the years. She’d lived in fear of her own father, and Vance had been totally oblivious. “I’ve spent the last twelve years resenting the hell out of you, Shay,” he said, unable to turn around and face her. “The entire time you were living a nightmare, and I was feeling sorry for myself.” He rubbed a hand over his face and muttered, “Jesus.”

“No, don’t do this. After Dad passed away, I could’ve contacted you. I could’ve gotten in touch after Mom’s cancer went into remission. I didn’t because…because I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me. And you would’ve had every right.”

He turned around and looked into her eyes. “You could’ve, yes, but I could’ve gotten in touch with you too.”

“You didn’t even know where I was.” She cocked her head to the side. “Give yourself a break, okay?”

He closed the distance between them and tugged her out of the chair. “It wouldn’t have been that hard to find you,” he murmured. “All I would’ve had to do was ask my mom. She’d have tracked you down faster than a bounty hunter.”

She smiled. “You do have a point there.”

“It doesn’t matter, not anymore. All that matters is what happens next.”

“What does happen next, Vance?”

He grinned. “Stick around and find out.”

Shayla’s heart sped up at his deep, sexy tone and the wicked gleam in his eyes. When Vance smiled, Shayla’s insides turned to pudding. “Your mom said you built this house.”

His lips twitched. “Are you changing the subject, honey?”

“Yes,” she answered, totally wishing she had the nerve to pull him in for a kiss instead.

“Okay,” he said as he released her. “Want me to give you the penny tour?”

“I’d love that.”

“Then again, you already saw the downstairs.”

She looked around the kitchen. “Yeah, but I’ve barely paid attention. I was a bit distracted.” She turned in a circle and took in the spacious room. Beautiful tile floors and a rectangular, dark mahogany wood table. The ceiling fan wasn’t anything fancy, but it suited the room. “I love all the dark wood and the tan walls. Very warm and inviting.” She wondered what the rest of the house looked like. Like his bedroom, for instance. Pretty darn spectacular, no doubt.

“I can’t take all the credit. My mom played a big part with the colors and furniture.” He motioned to her with a wave of his hand.

She followed him into the other room. “Dad brought in a professional decorator when we moved to Florida. By the time the woman was done, I felt like we were living in a museum. It was about as warm as an iceberg.”

He stopped and moved to the side so she could precede him into the living area. “Didn’t your mom have any say?”

“Mom learned early on not to speak her mind.” Shayla stepped into the spacious room, immediately impressed with its sheer size. It was big but comfortable, with large bookshelves lining one wall and a warm fire burning in the fireplace. How had she missed the fire? God, she really had been stressed about tonight’s visit.

The furnishings weren’t anything extravagant. A beige couch and matching loveseat faced the hearth, and a cozy pair of recliners in the far corner appeared perfect for reading. Shayla about drooled when she looked at some of the titles of the books. “You have great taste in reading material,” she admitted as she turned her attention back to Vance. “Your home is beautiful.”

He smiled, one of those sexy half-smiles that made her knees weak, and murmured, “I get the feeling you expected a lot of steel and black leather.”

“Steel, yeah, that about sums it up.” She walked to the bookshelf and grabbed a leather-bound copy of
The Scarlet Letter
off the shelf and held it up. “Hawthorne? I so didn’t expect that.”

He crossed the room and snatched the book out of her hands, then placed it back on the shelf with the utmost care. “Is it a crime to like quality writing?”

Vance’s nearness kicked Shayla’s hormones out of whack, and her body suddenly felt entirely too warm. “Nope. I just didn’t figure you for much of a reader.”

Vance tsked. “You shouldn’t assume, especially when it comes to me.”

The deep timbre of his voice caressed her senses. “You’re a constant surprise,” she said, feeling a little light-headed, “that’s for sure.”

Vance started for the kitchen again. “Enough with the tour. How about a nightcap instead?”

Shayla’s gaze went straight to Vance’s butt as he turned and headed toward the doorway. He wore a pair of low-slung jeans, tight and sexy, much like the white T-shirt that stretched over a drool-worthy, muscular back. No matter what the man wore, Vance Jennings simply had the finest ass she’d ever laid eyes on. Oh yes, she would dearly love to reach out and grab a handful, but when his words registered, she frowned. “I thought you’d show me the upstairs.”

“That’s for another night.”

“I can’t wait,” she mumbled, unable to pull her gaze away from the man’s oh-so-squeezable butt. He was the picture of perfection and always had been. Shayla recalled the way he used to encourage her to play with him. They’d spend hours touching and teasing each other. Shayla swore she could feel Vance’s rough palms coasting over her skin even now. An inferno of need had burned inside her whenever Vance’s hands were on her body. That was before she’d broken his heart and destroyed the trust he’d had in her, though. What would it be like to make love to Vance now with so much resentment and hurt between them?