Undeniable (A Country Roads Novel) (22 page)

Baxter had no more reservations about making his relationship with Preston public. He didn’t care what anyone thought anymore. But as it turned out, when he came out to his family, they said they’d always known. They told him it hadn’t changed anything before, and it most definitely changed nothing now.

“The only evidence we have points to Judson,” Jax told Baxter as they stared through the glass and into Hoyt’s smug face.

“I can’t wait to see how Judson’s going to take it when he finds out his friend completely ratted him out,” Baxter said.

“Oh, it’s going to be interesting,” Jax agreed.

And interesting it was.

“That piece of shit framed me,” Judson roared. “I had nothing to do with this. Hoyt is the one that’s always had a problem with Grace.”

“Why?” Jax asked.

“You’d have to ask him.” Judson snarled.

“So he didn’t help you out with any of this?” Jax asked.

“I didn’t do any of it,” Judson said.

 “It sounds to me like Hoyt is who you should be investigating, not my client who’s innocent,” Burt Norwood said. Burt was Judson’s lawyer, and he was just as slimy as Judson.

“Right, I understand.” Jax nodded. “But the thing is, all the evidence we have points to you, Judson, and nothing that points to Hoyt. So if you were to confess and tell us about Hoyt’s part in all of this…” Jax trailed off.

“I. Didn’t. Do. It.” Judson repeated.

And that was all Judson said through the rest of questioning. So he was the only one brought up on charges for attacking Preston and harassing Grace. He was released on bail, and Judge Mendelson ordered that Judson had to stay in Atticus County while awaiting trial.

Grace and Lula Mae were catering a dinner for Keith Reynolds. Hoyt’s father was the Atticus County school superintendent, but up until about three and a half years ago he’d been the principal of Mirabelle High School. He had worked in the school district for twenty-five years, and a commemoration dinner to honor him was scheduled for Thursday.

Mel had been one of the teachers put in charge of the event, and she hired the café to cater. Grace wasn’t enthusiastic about doing anything for Keith Reynolds, but she’d do anything for Mel.

“I’m not okay with this,” Jax had told her the night before. “I don’t want you anywhere near that worthless piece of garbage. I know Hoyt was involved in the attack on Preston, and Judson said that Hoyt is the one who always had a problem with you. Which means Hoyt probably helped with what happened to your car. He’s a loose cannon, Grace, and he’s capable of hurting you.”

“In a room full of people? Come on, Jax, be reasonable. This dinner is tomorrow. I can’t bail out on Mel. She’s counting on me and Lula Mae.”

“Fine. Cook the food but get somebody else to serve it.”

“Jax, I’m not going to do that, so stop it. I’m going to be fine,” she’d said, kissing him on the cheek.

“I still don’t like this.” He’d huffed.

And because he didn’t like it so much, he was going to be at the banquet when he got off work to play bodyguard. Not that Grace minded, because she always liked to have Jax around. And if she was honest with herself, she really didn’t feel comfortable being in a room with Hoyt or anyone in his family.

Mr. Reynolds was very much like his son with his thick blond hair, tall and lean stature, and arrogant as all get out. He’d always been the biggest prick to Brendan, and Grace had no forgiveness for anyone who messed with her family.

Mr. Reynolds had always been fairly indifferent to Grace, but then again she’d never really done anything to garner the attention of the principal. She stayed out of trouble. Well, except for the rumors that had been spread about her. Grace wasn’t sure if Mr. Reynolds had ever heard the rumors, but if he had, he’d never involved himself in such matters.

Dolores Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds’s wife, was a grade-A bitch. She’d pretty much looked down her nose at most of the people in Mirabelle ever since she moved there. She’d never been particularly friendly to anyone. Whenever Grace saw her, the woman always had an unpleasant sneer on her face, kind of like she smelled something particularly foul. So that was either the expression the woman always had, or was just the expression she had when Grace was around.

Grace and Lula Mae spent most of the week in the kitchen preparing the food for the dinner, while Callie Armstrong and Rebecca Parks worked the front of the café. By four o’clock on Thursday, they had Lula Mae’s SUV and the little space in Grace’s Bug loaded up, and were heading over to the community center.

The dinner was for over one hundred guests. White linens covered the tables and unlit tea lights floated in clear round globes at the center. Panky was arranging blue and yellow flowers at the podium at the back of the room.

“I’m almost done and then I’m all yours,” Panky called out to them as she snipped the end off a sprig of greenery.

“No rush,” Lula Mae said. “We have to set up first anyways. We’re going to need your help to dish stuff out tonight.”

“Now you know if you want someone to dish stuff out you would need Pinky here, as the woman has no filter on that mouth of hers.”

“Then how about you do it with a spoon?” Lula Mae asked.

“Now that I can do.”

Mel showed up just after five with all the beer and wine. She didn’t get to enjoy the night. Nope, she was the bartender. That’s what happened when you were one of the lowest men, or women in this case, on the totem pole. And she hadn’t been the only one forced into free service. Other teachers were in charge of various tasks for the night, all of them recent hires. They weren’t the ones being honored, so what did it matter if they didn’t get to sit down and eat their dinner? It didn’t.

Mel wasn’t the biggest fan of Superintendent Reynolds, either. For the last year she’d been trying to do a hands-on project to get the kids more excited about math. She wanted to show them how math could be used to build things.

Mr. Reynolds wouldn’t even take the time to meet with her, sending her an e-mail stating there wasn’t enough room in the budget. He refused to meet with her so she could show him her plan of paying for it. He didn’t have the time. He was kicking off his reelection campaign, so what he apparently did have the time and budget for was a dinner celebrating him.

Asshole.

The guests started rolling in just before six. Grace was relighting one of the flames under the chafing dishes when she felt a prickling at the back of her neck. She looked up to find Hoyt Reynolds staring at her, his eyes full of hatred as he sipped his beer.

“I don’t like the way he’s looking at you,” Lula Mae whispered in Grace’s ear as she set a pan of lemon, basil, and goat cheese chicken in one of the already warmed chafing dishes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Grace said, moving on to the next dish.

Grace didn’t want to give Hoyt any credit for his attempt at intimidating her.

“I wouldn’t even be doing this if it wasn’t for Mel,” Lula Mae said under her breath. “Keith Reynolds deserves about as much honor as a horse’s ass.”

There was no love loss for Lula Mae toward the Reynolds family, either.

It was just after six o’clock when Mitch Bolinder, the principal of the high school, made his way up to the podium.

“I just want to welcome everyone here tonight,” Mitch said, adjusting the end of his tie. “We are here to recognize a great man, a man who is an asset to our fine community. But first, let’s eat.”

The guests got up from their tables and filed down the food line. Grace, Lula Mae, Panky, and the English teacher, Mia Grant, served the food. The chatter echoed in the room, people laughing and carrying on as they dug into their food.

“This is just absolutely delicious,” the music teacher, Karen Wilson, told Lula Mae as she came up for seconds.

“Why thanks, sugar,” Lula Mae drawled as she scooped up some rosemary potatoes.

“How’s that great-grandbaby of yours doing?” Karen asked.

“He’s doing just fine.”

“And Brendan and Paige?”

“All good, exhausted but good. Trevor has a set of lungs on him that could wake the dead.” Lula Mae smiled. “So he’s giving them a run for their money.”

“Oh, I’ll bet,” Karen said before she moved on.

The line died down, and as Lula Mae and Panky took the empty dishes to the kitchen, Grace started to put out the desserts. She was just setting out a tray of her chocolate hazelnut mousse when an odd vibe went through the room. Grace looked up to see Judson Coker stumble up to the empty podium.

Oh, fantastic. He was drunk.

“This can’t be good,” Lula Mae said, coming up behind Grace.

Grace hadn’t seen Judson since the incident at the restaurant. He’d just been released on bail the day before.

Judson leaned over and hit the top of the microphone with his palm, a dull thrum echoing through the speakers.

“So ya’ll are here to honor Superintendent Keith Reynolds,” he slurred. “An
upstanding
man, an
upstanding
husband, an
upstanding
father. Well why don’t we give a nice, big round of applause to his backstabbing, conniving son who managed to get out of being punished for that little queer Preston Matthews attack. Well done,” Judson said, clapping his own hands together. “And while we’re at it, why don’t we recognize Keith Reynolds’s other child, as she’s currently here servicing all of you. But the King women’s ability to service men is no secret to anyone. So why don’t you come up here, Grace, and congratulate your
father
.”

Everyone was silent and staring transfixed at Judson, everyone except for Mr. Bolinder, who was making his way toward the podium. He unplugged the microphone and turned to grab Judson’s arm.

Grace’s heart was pounding so hard in her throat she thought she was going to choke.

“No need to show me out,” Judson shouted as he pulled his arm away. “I’m not making this up, either,” he said as he made his way toward the door. “Keith Reynolds showed up in town and Grace King was born nine months later. Coincidence? I think not.” Judson pointed to Grace. “So take a look at the bastard daughter of this man who y’all think is so great.”

All eyes in the room turned to Grace, and she was lucky she didn’t pass out.

J
ax had ten minutes left on his shift. He was parked and filling in the last of his paperwork. That day he had dealt with a guy exposing himself at the beach to a bunch of college girls, a group of drunk guys who were tailgating at the Piggly Wiggly and harassing people as they were coming and going from the store, and more speeding tourists than he could count, all of whom had given him a hard time. Apparently, forty-five miles per hour really meant sixty-five where they were from.

Jax wasn’t sure how accurate any of his paperwork was as he was more than a little preoccupied. He was waiting for the clock to wind down so he could head over to the community center. Grace was there with that asshole, and he wanted to be there to make sure she was okay.

“Seventeen, what’s your location?”

“Seventeen, at Mayfare and Seventh.”

“Domestic disturbance at 4290 Partridge Road. Deputy needed on location.”

This was going to turn out real well. That was his parents’ house. This was all he needed to deal with tonight. Why couldn’t the call have come in ten minutes later?

Sherry Lynn was new to Mirabelle, so she had no idea that she was calling Jax to his parents’ house, and as he didn’t want to broadcast that to everyone on duty, he kept it to himself. He would’ve called for backup, but the other deputies on patrol were nowhere near him, and both of them were responding to other calls.

“Ten-four,” he said, putting the truck in gear.

It took him less than two minutes to get to the house where he’d grown up. His grandmother had owned it so there was no mortgage to be paid every month, probably one of the few reasons Haldon Anderson was still there. If something was free, he was all about it. But the house didn’t look the way it had when Jax’s grandmother was alive.

The sun hadn’t set yet, so all the disrepair was easy to see as Jax pulled into the driveway. Weeds had invaded the yard years ago, and it was going to take much more than a lawnmower to wage war against them. A rusted pickup truck sat abandoned on the side of the house, the driver’s door hanging off the hinges and springs popping through the vinyl seats. Beer cans littered the front porch along with multiple ash trays that were filled with cigarette butts. The wooden planks on the porch sagged down to a dip that ran up to the front door. The mesh on the screen door was completely gone, yet the metal frame was still attached to the doorjamb, doing absolutely nothing to keep out the mosquitoes.

Jax cut the engine and got out of his truck. A loud smash and yelling greeted his ears.

“Fantastic,” he mumbled as he made his way up the rotting front steps.

Before he even had the chance to knock, the front door swung open and Haldon Anderson stood in front of Jax. His brown hair was long and greasy and his jaw was covered in many days’ worth of stubble. A gray T-shirt and dirty jeans hung off his wasted frame and he held a beer can in his hand.

“What do you want?” he sneered out the door.

“Someone called in a domestic disturbance,” Jax said.

“Probably that good for nothing busybody Connie Applewood. Why don’t you mind your own damn business, you stupid bitch!” Haldon screamed. The smell of his beer and cigarette-soaked breath hit Jax like a punch in the face.

“How about you calm down,” Jax said. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing that concerns you. Because nothing that concerns me concerns you. You get that? So why don’t you just hop back into your little justice mobile and get the hell out of here?”

“Where’s Mom?”

“What part of ‘this doesn’t concern you’ don’t you understand? I said get off my property. No one, and I repeat
no one,
gives a shit as to who you are, what you are, or what you do.”

“I’m going to have to see her before I leave.”

“Patty!” Haldon bellowed, not turning around. “Your worthless, piece of shit son wants to see you.”

Patty came out into the hallway, her wispy red hair hanging around her pale, mousy face. Her green eyes, the exact same green as Jax’s, were bloodshot and watery, and her mouth was in a grim line. She looked right through him, absolutely no emotion on her face when she saw him.

“You don’t need to be here. Everything is just fine,” she said in a hollow voice.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Your father has never laid a hand on me.”

Well, that was a bold-faced lie. Jax had seen Haldon smack her around more times than he could count.

“Don’t you go calling me his father. He’s not my son. He’s not
anything
to me. He’s not
anything
to anyone. Never has been, never will be. Do you understand that? You’re
nothing
.”

This wasn’t the first time Jax had heard those words, and he certainly doubted it would be the last. Without fail, Haldon always ripped into his son.

Every. Single. Time.

“So like I said before, get the fuck off my property,” Haldon said.

“Gladly. But you need to quiet down and stop bothering the neighbors.”

“I don’t care about the damn neighbors,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

“I get it. You don’t care about anyone or anything. But if you don’t stop it, you’re going to be not caring from the inside of a jail cell. So calm down,” Jax said, looking at Haldon.

Haldon didn’t say anything, just continued to glare. Jax knew that was probably all he was going to get out of his father, so he turned around to leave.

He didn’t even make it off the front porch before the beer can pegged him in the back of the head. It was less than halfway full, but there was still enough cold beer in the can to spill down the back of his neck and soak into his shirt.

“Worthless piece of shit,” Haldon said. “That girl you’re screwing is going to figure that out soon and leave, and then you’re going to be all alone, not caring about anything, either.”

Jax didn’t turn around, he wasn’t going to do it, wasn’t going to show that anything Haldon said affected him.

It was just too bad it did affect Jax, affected him more than even he knew.

Keith Reynolds was Grace’s father?

He couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be right. She didn’t believe it.

Grace turned to her grandmother and under the shell-shocked expression Grace saw the confirmation. It was in Lula Mae’s eyes, right there, plain as day. Lula Mae had known that Keith Reynolds was her father.

Lula Mae grabbed for Grace’s arm, but Grace pulled away shaking her head.

“You knew,” she whispered.

“Gracie,” Lula Mae pleaded.

“I have to get out of here,” she said, going into the kitchen and grabbing her purse. She went out the side door and ran out of the community center as fast as she could.

Her grandmother had known who Grace’s father was. All this time she’d known and never said a word. When Grace was fifteen she asked Lula Mae who her father was. She’d said she didn’t know. She lied.

Did her grandfather know? Did Brendan? Were they all keeping this secret from her? Had they all known her father was Keith Reynolds?

And God, Hoyt was her brother. Just the very thought made her skin crawl. She was related to that jerk, too. Oh, how the gifts just kept on giving.

Grace couldn’t say she’d wondered who her father was for twenty-four years. It probably hadn’t been a conscious thought until she was three or four, but he’d been missing from her life for twenty-four years. Now she knew who he was, and she felt emptier than she had before.

People had always speculated that Grace’s father was a married man, but now Grace knew it for a fact. And was it ever painful.

Grace held the memories of her mother near and dear to her heart. But this tarnished those memories. It made Grace doubt her mother. Made her doubt
everything
from her childhood.

Grace wanted Jax. She needed him so desperately it was hard to breathe. She needed his arms around her. Needed to bury her face in his chest and hold on to something that was real. Hold on to the one person she was sure of. Because it sure as hell wasn’t her mother, and it wasn’t her grandmother for that matter, either.

Grace pulled off to the side of the road and dug around in her purse until she found her cell phone. She called Jax and waited through the rings, but he didn’t pick up. She didn’t trust herself not to lose it in a voice mail, so she hung up and texted him.

Finished early. See you at your place.

When Grace pulled up in front of Jax’s house, the porch light was on but the house was dark and empty. Which was fitting because that was exactly how Grace felt at the moment. When she got inside she went through the house, turning on all the lights as she went. Apparently she thought that the more lightbulbs that were burning the faster she’d get a clue.

She was wrong.

She was so thoroughly confused that she was surprised her head was still on straight. She wasn’t sure how long she paced through the house, searching for some sort of answer.

Maybe that was the problem. She was searching for the answers when really she needed to figure out the question.

She’d found out who her father was.

She’d found out that her mother had been part of an affair.

She’d found out that she’d been born out of something dirty.

She’d found out that her grandmother had lied to her.

But when it came right down to it, what did her knowing change?

Her father had never wanted to be a part of her life. She was under no illusions he was going to suddenly want to know her now. She had absolutely no desire to know him.

The world hadn’t fallen out from under her feet. The ground was just unsteady, shaking. But she was still standing, and she was going to continue to stand.

Grace wasn’t sure how long she’d been pacing, but she was in the hallway when the front door opened.

“Grace,” Jax called out.

She rounded the corner, and when she saw him she found her solid ground. She launched herself at him, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him. His arms wrapped around her and she was suddenly pushed up against the wall. Jax’s hands slid up under her dress and he pulled her legs around his waist.

Jax was kissing her with a desperation that matched her own. Like she was his safe haven and he wanted to crawl inside of her, to be inside of her.

Did he sense her need for him? Or did he need her just as much as she needed him? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t have any desire to come up for air long enough to ask. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted Jax. Wanted him to make her forget the night. Wanted him to make her not think about anything that hurt. Wanted him to make love to her. Wanted him to
love
her.

 He was still in his uniform and as she ran her hands up his shoulders, she realized his shirt was damp and he smelled like beer. But the whys to those questions flew to the back of her mind as one of his hands made its way to the apex of her thighs. She moaned into his mouth as he pulled back from the wall, carrying her down the hall as he stroked her between her legs.

When they got to the bedroom he pushed her up against the wall again, using its leverage to keep her pinned there with his body. His hands disappeared from her body, and then they were at the front of his pants where he undid his utility belt and put it down on the nightstand.

All the while Grace was pulling at this shirt, untucking it from his pants and fumbling with the buttons. When she reached the top she pushed it off his shoulders and then started working his white T-shirt up his abdomen. Their mouths separated as she pulled it off and a second later her dress was up over her head and joining his shirts on the floor.

Jax reached down and fumbled with the drawer on the nightstand before he pulled it open and grabbed a condom. He shoved his pants and boxer briefs down and put the condom on. His mouth came down hard on hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he pulled her panties to the side and entered her. Grace cried out into his mouth, her back arching as he began to move.

Nothing about what he was doing to her was soft, gentle, or sweet. What he was doing was hot, intense, mind blowing, and exactly what she needed. Jax was exactly what she needed. He always had been and always would be.

He moved in and out of her with perfect thrusts that made her breath catch. His hands were gripping her thighs, his long fingers digging into her skin as he held on to her.

“Jax,” she gasped, pulling her mouth from his.

His mouth latched on to her neck, sucking and kissing, and making her say his name louder, and louder. Grace came first, her grip on Jax’s shoulders tightening as she held on to him. He followed her over the edge a second later, his face still buried in her throat.

When he caught his breath he pulled back and looked at her. He brushed her hair back from her face and looked at her, his beautiful green eyes holding hers.

“I love you.” Grace wasn’t sure why at that moment she decided to open her mouth and say it, but she had. She couldn’t stop herself.

Jax’s hand stilled at her ear where he was tucking her hair back. The openness that had been in his eyes a second ago was gone, like a door had slammed shut.

“I…can’t,” Jax whispered.

Everything in Grace fell away in that instant. She’d thought she’d already survived the bombshell of the night. But was she ever wrong. Jax had just blown her life wide open with those two words.

“Can’t what? Can’t love me?” She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs hurt and her head was spinning.

“Grace,” he said, shaking his head.

God, he was still inside of her and he was telling her he wasn’t in love with her. She was hollow, empty, abandoned.

He didn’t love her.

“Put me down,” she said, and pushed at his shoulders. “Just put me down.”

His hand dropped from her thigh and she unwound her legs from his waist, bringing them down to the floor. The hollowness intensified a thousand-fold as Jax took a step back and pulled out of her body.

How had she gotten it so wrong? How had she mistaken everything?

He didn’t love her.

She reached down and grabbed her dress from the floor, feeling entirely too exposed in just her bra and panties. Jax tucked himself back into his pants and pulled up the zipper as she pulled her dress over her head.