Dead Silence (Stillwater Trilogy #1)(78)
Author: Brenda Novak

He didn’t seem pleased with her response. “Why not tell me what we’re fighting here?”

She couldn’t burden him with her secrets, or he’d face the same torment she did. “You’re not going to be fighting anything.”

“If you really want to protect me, tell me.”

It didn’t work that way, and he knew that as well as she did. But when she didn’t respond, he climbed out of bed. “Fine. It’s late. I’d better go.”

“Do you think your babysitter will be watching the clock?” she asked to temper the sudden estrangement between them.

“I’m sure she’s asleep. Thursdays are my usual night out, so she typically stays over. I doubt she’ll even notice when I come in.” Completely unconcerned with his nudity, he bent to gather his clothes, which were strewn on the floor.

Grace couldn’t help enjoying the sight of his muscular physique. She couldn’t believe how easily she’d been able to make love with him. It had come naturally, without the crippling memories and distaste she’d experienced so often with George. At times she’d felt close to normal when she was with her old boyfriend. Last night, she’d felt completely normal. Whole. In love. Nothing else could compare.

She knew it was a sign of how much she wanted to be with Kennedy. But acknowledging that didn’t make their situation any easier. He’d always been out of reach.

“Good night,” he said and started from the room.

Grace winced at the sting of his withdrawal. He was angry with her. He was like Clay; he expected her to hand everything over to him and let him be in charge.

“There’s something I should tell you,” he said, turning back as he reached the door.

Grace sat up, drawing the sheet with her. “What’s that?”

“If there’s anything more you can do to protect yourself from whatever happened in the past, do it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, the old tension returning.

“Someone saw Clay driving Barker’s car the night the reverend disappeared. It was late, around midnight, and he was heading out of town. Your mother was following him.”

She could tell that Kennedy was watching her closely, so she absorbed what he said without letting the shock of it register on her face.

“Grace?”

She was trying to say he shouldn’t worry, that it wasn’t true—or make up some other lie—but she couldn’t. What had passed between them was too fresh, too honest. So she said nothing.

His eyes swept over her as if he’d come back and make love to her again right now, if only she’d tell him the truth.

It was certainly a temptation. She already felt she’d trade just about anything for one more kiss.

“God, Grace, are you really going to let me go so easily?” he asked.

“There’s nothing I can do,” she said helplessly.

“I know you care about me. A woman doesn’t make love like that unless she cares.”

She blinked against the tears that threatened. She couldn’t endanger her family because of her own selfish desires. “You should be glad,” she said softly.

“Glad that you won’t even give us a chance?”

“Glad that I won’t tell you anything else. Go home, Kennedy,” she said. “We both knew it could only last until morning.”

Kennedy cursed as he hurried to his truck. Grace had said that one night wouldn’t change anything. But that was bullshit. He’d known it then, too. He just hadn’t been able to resist her offer. And now he was going to pay the price. He could smell her on his clothes, his skin, still craved her. He knew he’d never be able to look at her again without wanting to feel her beneath him, just the way it had been a few hours ago. She’d given herself without reserve—given everything except the one thing keeping them apart.

As he got to his truck, something moved in his peripheral vision and he whipped around to find Joe standing in the shadows.

“Have a good night?” Joe asked, his face contorted in the light thrown off by his lighter as he lit a cigar.

Joe rarely smoked, unless he was drunk. “Don’t start,” Kennedy said. “I’m not in the mood.”

His friend motioned toward the house. “She’s quite a change after Raelynn, isn’t she? Or maybe that’s the attraction, what I’m missing in all of this. You clean-cut, successful guys occasionally like to go slumming. You want to take a walk on the wild side, Kennedy? See what you can get from a whore like Grace?”

Kennedy clenched his jaw. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you need to leave—now.”

The end of Joe’s cigar glowed in the dark as he lifted it to his mouth. “Why?” he said, laughing. “It’s my turn, isn’t it? That was how it worked in high school. We passed her around. With a woman like her, there’s no need to be selfish. Maybe when I’m finished with her, I’ll give Buzz a call.”

Kennedy didn’t know he was going to do it until it was too late, until he’d already launched himself at Joe and taken him down. In one part of his brain, he knew Joe was purposely provoking him and told himself to ignore it. But then he slugged Joe right in the face.

Joe had obviously been expecting a reaction, but not one as explosive as he got. “What the hell are you—” He didn’t finish. Blood was pouring from his nose, filling his mouth. He tried to get out from under Kennedy, take a few swings. But his attempt to fight back only gave Kennedy an excuse to really let go. He hit Joe again and again, as if Joe was his worst enemy and not the man who’d once saved his life.

“You son of a bitch,” Joe cried, throwing his own punches. But Kennedy was in too close for Joe to do any harm.

The flash of shock and anger that caused Joe to fight back quickly dissipated. Soon he simply covered his face and hollered for Kennedy to stop.

Kennedy finally allowed Joe to get up, but the moment he stood, Joe took another swing.

Dodging the blow, Kennedy tackled him again, this time slamming his head into the cement of the driveway.

Joe immediately capitulated. “I give. Kennedy, stop! I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Let me up.”

Kennedy was breathing hard when he released Joe. Slowly he backed off, ready to defend himself if necessary. But Joe didn’t try anything else. He wiped at the blood on his mouth and chin as they stood there, glaring at each other.

“This isn’t over,” Joe said, spitting blood on the ground. “You wait. Even the Archer name won’t be able to save you now.”