Serenity's Deception (Texas Sorority Sisters Book 1) (23 page)

A
fter the police left, Jason decided to make another pass over the grounds where the shot was fired. Taking a flashlight, he walked to the strand of trees again, shining the light on the ground. He found one cigarette butt with no filter, crushed. The same kind he’d found the day Beauregard had chased BJ. Nearby, the grass was flattened, like someone stood waiting for some time.

Shifting his foot back and forth through the lawn, he uncovered a shell casing hidden in the grass a little ways from the tree trunk, a foot or two from the trampled grass. Jason picked up the object. Turning it over he noticed it was a twenty-two before he slipped it into his pants pocket.

The flashlight cut a path through the darkness as he continued to look for clues, but found none. He’d take a better look in daylight, but he was sure he wouldn’t find anything more.

Heading in the direction of the dirt road that backed up to one side of the property, Jason found the gate standing open, padlock missing, chain hanging loose. He made a mental note to tell Sidney to make sure all gates were checked, rusty locks and chains replaced with new ones, and to see to it that the fence surrounding the estate had no breaks. Pulling the gate shut, he realized the hinges worked effortlessly, probably been recently oiled. Jason wondered if this was where the shooter had entered.

When Jason returned to the terrace, he looked for the remnants of the shot. Kneeling by the flower pot debris, he found the spent bullet. He rolled the metal between his fingers to remove the dirt. No doubt, the same one that belonged to the twenty-two casing.

“You had to be a pretty poor marksman … or were you right on target? A warning perhaps
?
Whose? Mine or BJ’s?”

Except for his slaughtered calves, BJ’s track record looked pretty bad up against his—the tire incident, the bull, the snake, and now this. He didn’t like where his thoughts were headed. But to his way of thinking all signs added up to BJ as the target. She needed a bodyguard, but he knew she’d never agree to one. He could hire someone without her knowledge. She’d never know and he’d feel a whole lot better about her safety.  

On his way to the French doors, he noticed something stuck between the cushion and the side of the lounge. He picked it up and saw that it was a journal with something stuck between, marking the page. Desperately wanting to open and read the thing, he knew better. He wouldn’t betray her trust that way.

He shifted the book to his other hand. The bookmarker fell to the ground. As he bent to retrieve the thin scrap of plastic, Jason heard one of the doors open and looked up. BJ walked through coming toward him. He hoped his desire wasn’t as evident as he feared it to be.

He picked up the object then stood smiling and advanced in her direction. “You look a lot better but I thought you were going to bed. Feeling okay?” Her smile warmed him.

“Yes. I took some aspirin. Did you see anyone?” She looked down at his hand, a frown appeared.

“No. Nothing at all.” He held out the book to her. “I was just going in when I found this in the chair. About to bring it to you.”

Her eyes were glued to the little scrap of plastic in his other hand. He looked at the thin short band. Speechless, he held it out to her. He knew he couldn’t hide the shock in his eyes.

“You had no right.” She snatched the baby bracelet from his fingers.

“Billy Jo. I didn’t—”

“I thought better of you. I trusted you.” BJ turned on her heels and stormed back into the house, not giving him a chance to explain. Jason watched her stiff retreat, wishing he could recall the last few minutes and do them differently.

B
J threw the journal on her desk, the baby ID remained in her hand.
Would this horrible day never end? What more could happen?

Jason was the last one on this earth she wanted to find out about Madelyne. And now he knew. What did he think? Did she care?
Yes!

Saying he’d just picked up the book—sure, likely story.
But if it had been her could she have resisted taking just a peek? He probably couldn’t either.

Angry at herself for forgetting the journal, angry at him for snooping into her private affairs, angry that her world was spiraling out of her control, BJ stomped her foot then felt like a foolish child throwing a tantrum. What difference did it make? He may already know more about her than she did herself.

Her tantrum was cut off by the short
zzziitt-zzziitt, zzziitt- zzziitt
,
zzziitt-zzziitt
, and the vibration that caused her BlackBerry to dance on the desk. She grabbed her phone and read the email.

Next time it won’t be a flwrpot. Maybe u or cowboy. Leave Serenity.

BJ looked again to make sure she had read the email correctly. She had. The threat was real. No mistake about it. She was the one marked for the shot. And Jason was in danger because of her. But who?
Doggett
? He’d warned her to leave. But surely he wouldn’t be that foolish.

Fury raged. How dare someone think they could run her out of town …
again
.

Hearing a noise, BJ looked up. Jason stood outside her open office door—clean shirt, caution in his cerulean blue eyes. In his hands were two frosty tumblers of tea. Her heart lurched, or at least that’s how it felt, and for a moment she forgot to be angry with him.

“I brought you some iced tea.” He held out one of the glasses.

Hesitant, she wondered if this was his idea of a peace offering—
he wouldn’t be getting off that easy.
Not wanting to look petty and mean-spirited, she took the glass from him. Their fingers brushed and the sensation of even that minor touch went straight through her. She was in serious, deep trouble.

“We need to talk.”

She didn’t move or speak, just stared at him.

“May I come in, please?”

He didn’t try to push his way through, she’d give him that much. He was being respectful of her privacy. But it still stung that he knew the truth of her birth. Instead of moving or offering to let him pass, she blocked the way and slung back, “Frankly, I don’t see what there is to say. You have about as much information as I do. Or do you know something I don’t?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help that I saw the name. I have a sharp eye and read quickly. All I did was look down.”

“Yeah.”

“Look.” He brushed his free hand through his hair. “I couldn’t help it. There it was. I had no idea—”

“No idea that you were related to me?”

“Strictly by marriage, BJ, not by blood.”

She hitched one brow. “Well then. There you have it. Your aunt and my biological mother, because that’s what she is to me, is one and the same. The very person that left me on the orphanage steps to be raised by her paid staff. What do you have to say to that?” BJ planted her free hand on her hip. The tickling sound of the ice against glass caused her to steady the tumbler. Temper rising, she wanted to do bodily harm to someone, but the object of her anger wasn’t Jason. That person was beyond her reach.

“Please, may I come in? I’d rather not discuss this standing in the hall.”

She wanted to say
no
, slam the door in his face, even scream, but did neither. Having this conversation was not on her high priority list of things to do. Yet she swept her hand in the general direction of the sitting area. “By all means, come in. Have a seat.”

By the roll of his eyes, she knew her sarcasm hadn’t been lost on him.

Jason chose the couch. He rested his ankle on his knee, his arm stretched across the back of the couch. By his nonchalant manner there was no way to tell if he was here to find out more of the saga of Billy Jo Spencer … Loveless, or whatever BJ’s name really was.

Well, he’s about to get an earful.

BJ shut the door, picked the chair opposite of him, then waited as his eyes roamed over her office.

Realizing he’d never been in her office before, she figured she’d allow him to assuage his curiosity. She took the few extra moments to sip her tea, hoping to cool her temper. But it didn’t help. She slipped her glass onto one of the coasters.

Jason picked up the one by him. He looked at her photograph of the painted Texas sunset transferred onto the top of the coaster. Smiling, he set it down and slid his glass on top.

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“Nice.”

“You’re not here for trivial shop talk. Now what was so all-fired important that you had to bust in here?” Her harpish tone was uncalled for. Lashing out at Jason wouldn’t accomplish anything. He wasn’t the one responsible for her mood. He could have just as easily been shot instead of her, though the bullet was meant for her. But her foul mood didn’t go away.

“I’m sorry.” He watched her closely

“That’s it? I’m sorry. For what? Your aunt messing up my life? For me being raised in an orphanage?”

“BJ, I—”

“Being shot? Someone wanting me dead? What, Jason? What exactly are you sorry for? For prying into my private affairs. For—”

“Billy Jo, stop!” He dropped his foot to the floor, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his look troubled. “You can’t shift the blame for Madelyne onto me. Oh, you can if you want to, but you and I both know I had nothing to do with her decisions.” He held out a hand in supplication. “Maybe the shooting—I could be responsible for that. I don’t know.” He folded his hands together looking into her eyes. “I honestly don’t know if they were after me or you.”

She wanted to continue to scream at him, but surprise took over. Did he know the shot was a warning to her to leave town? How could he?

“I do know who the shot was meant for. Me.” She grabbed her cell phone, punched a key before she shoved it under Jason’s nose. “He’s after me. Not you. Me. And Jason, you would have been killed.”

“
What?
When did you get this?” His eyelids lowered, half concealing his dark, menacing look.

“After I left you on the terrace. For all I know. You could have sent the message.” BJ knew better. She watched Jason’s face tighten and wished she could recall her words. Why was she lashing out at Jason?

He shot up from the couch thunderous. “Do you really have such a low opinion of me that you would suspect me of sending such a message?”

“No!” BJ stood and grabbed his arm.

He shrugged out of her grasp.

“Jason, I don’t know why I said that. Forgive me. I know you’re not capable of doing such a thing.” She tried again to touch his arm, her eyes pleading, this time he allowed her to. “I was hurting and wanted to hurt someone. You were in my path. I’m so sorry.” His close proximity was too much. Dropping her hand, she meant to move back, but he grasped both her arms.

“Look, Billy Jo—” His eyes searched hers. “—I wish there was something I could do to make this better. Make it all go away. But I can’t. There’s nothing I can do to change the past.”

“I know. And I don’t expect you to. The one I’d really like to lash out at is Madelyne.” BJ gave a humorless laugh. “But there’s no going there.”

“I recognize you’re hurt and I wish there were something I could do. But I can’t,” he repeated. He held out his arms. “Come here.”

“Jason, I—”

“
Shhh
. For once don’t think. You’ve done enough of that for the both of us. Just come here. Let me hold you, please.”

His face showed nothing but compassion and something else she didn’t try to examine. She didn’t hesitate or have to ask herself if this was right. She rushed into his warm, open embrace. She could hear his heart beat, breathed in his scent, and felt safe as he held her close without a word.

They stood there, neither moving, just fused together as one. BJ could no longer hold back the tears. Tears for years of regret, misplaced trust, lost love, for cruelties, a parent that for some reason didn’t love or want her.

 Silent, Jason gently held her as she cried. She pulled back and gazed up into his face. “Jace, I’m so sorry for the hateful things I said.”

Again he placed a finger over her lips. “All is forgiven. Even the past.”

“Oh, Jason, I wish it were.”

She knew what was coming long before his lips touch hers. His head lowered tentatively, his eyes asking the question, allowing her time to back out if she wished. She didn’t. Instead she raised her lips in anticipation and fear, hoping it was the right thing to do. But she couldn’t have resisted him if she wanted to—and she didn’t.

When their lips met, she wasn’t prepared for all the old memories rushing. The realization of lost time, the haunting of what could have been hers all along overwhelmed her. The kiss, soft, sweet, and undemanding, held the promise of love, not what they had as teens, but a mature lasting love. And for a moment she dreamed of the possibility. They could be one.

When he pulled away, the loss was unbearable. His fingers touched her checks, wiping away the remnants of her tears earlier.

God, thank you for giving me a second chance—if this is what it is.