Page 107 of Defenders of Jawhara

Bethany Simmons watched the man in her yard as he walked slowly toward her as if he were trying to calm a frightened animal or avoid being bitten. Granted, he deserved a couple of well-placed bites. Hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to understand the pain she felt over everything that had happened over the past few months. Hard enough to know the sense of loss she felt.

She knew his name was Slade but had no idea if that was his first name or last. She knew he owned and ran Slade Security, along with Brock Wells—Tayra’s ex-husband. She’d called the company at the point that her life was cascading out of control since it was the only number she’d had for Brock. Now she had Brock’s business partner in front of her, not Brock, and no idea what to say or do.

She’d rehearsed her speech for Brock, not Slade. She chewed on her lower lip and protectively grabbed onto Jason’s hand. This was supposed to be about her being able to adopt Jason as her own—and about righting a wrong Tayra had left behind.Just one more mess to deal with and maybe, just maybe, they could put it all behind them and move forward, Bethany thought. She shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking ill of the dead.

Pulling in a breath, she dragged back her temper, stomping it down. She was good at that. “You must be Slade.”

“I’m sorry for your loss…”

“Me too. And I’m praying I won’t have another one.” She muttered the words, and from the flash of confusion in his eyes, she knew he had no idea what she was talking about.Not good. “Jason and I were just going out for ice cream.”

“Great. I’ll drive you.”

Bethany glanced at his gleaming SUV, then at her ancient VW. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the same vehicle as this man—if even half of what Tayra had said was true, he was a dangerous man, in an even more dangerous line of work. But the SUV would have air conditioning and seats without springs that poked you in the butt. It would also have gas in it, which made it a no-contest decision.

She glanced down at Jason. “Jason, this is…Mr. Slade.”

“Just Slade will do. Hi ya, buddy.” He gave Jason a smile, and that wasn’t fair. Not fair at all that he’d have charm he could turn on like a light. Not fair when he had so much else going for him, and she didn’t mean a fancy, obviously new SUV, or an expensive-looking suit.

He was tall, as in towering over her, with broad shoulders. Sweat gleamed on his face; and no wonder, given that he had on a dark blue suit, a wilting white shirt, and a tie. When was the last time she’d seen a man in a tie? She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes—green maybe, or hazel? But his rugged, tan face spoke of years being outside, and of worries that lined his forehead. She pegged him as being in his late thirties, maybe early forties, but with his face, it was hard to tell. He had gray-streaked, light-colored hair, so he could be older or younger.

Jason hung a little closer to Bethany, and she wanted to yell at Tayra all over again. She let go of Jason’s hand and gave him an encouraging nod forward. “It’s okay. Slade knew your mommy. And he knows your daddy.”

She saw Slade’s right hand twitch and then bunch into a fist—and she suddenly knew that Tayra had lied about that, too.

Dammit, Tayra, was Jason the only thing you didn’t fully screw up?

She faced off with Slade. “Tayra never told you…never told Brock, did she?”

Slade’s mouth tightened and thinned. He had a wide mouth with a small crescent scar near one corner. “Tell him what?”

Jason tugged on Bethany’s hand and asked in a hushed voice. “Can we go now?”

She put an arm on his shoulder. “Just a minute.” Facing Slade, she said, “Jason is Tayra’s son. He’s also Brock Wells’ boy.”

2

Slade thought of a few curses he’d like to let loose, but he couldn’t—not in front of the kid and not in front of Bethany Simmons.

He hadn’t begrudged Tayra wanting out of her marriage to Brock. It’d torn Brock up, Slade knew—boy had it ever. The pair had been high school sweethearts, and it was inevitable that they would marry. Brock had often bragged that they’d both gone into the relationship with their eyes wide open since he’d been talking about joining the Navy and becoming a SEAL since the day he’d joined ROTC. But talking about it and living it were two different things, and Tayra had been ill-prepared for the loneliness that follows a new bride living in married housing while her husband is deployed. Tayra had wanted, no needed, a normal relationship with a nice guy who worked a boring nine-to-five job. She should have married an accountant, not a Navy SEAL who was often emotionally detached and lived for the action.

Slade studied the boy—he kept trying to see Brock in the kid, but he couldn’t find the resemblance. Was this some kind of shakedown? Was Bethany out to scam some money? If she was, she’d picked the wrong target.

He wanted to grill her, but not in front of the kid. “Let’s get that ice cream,” he said. He strode back to the SUV, unlocking it with the key fob button. He opened the passenger door and turned back.

Bethany still stood where he’d left her, her blue eyes huge and her hand still on the boy’s shoulder. Jason was looking up at her.

“Well? Chocolate or vanilla?” Slade asked.

His words seemed to startle Bethany into action. She came forward, Jason’s hand back in hers. “Jason likes Rocky Road.”

“Figures,” Slade muttered. What road wasn’t rocky these days?

He got Jason settled in the back. Bethany slipped into the passenger seat up front and fussed with her seatbelt. Getting in, Slade started the engine and glanced at her. “Where’s this ice cream parlor?”

She gave him directions back to the nearest town. He’d come in from the highway and had missed the main drag, but if you blinked, you’d miss what passed for a town. He spotted a gas station, two churches, a grocery store that sold just about everything, including bait and hunting supplies, and a small drugstore, which seemed to double as an ice cream parlor.

Getting out, Bethany helped Jason undo his seatbelt, then lifted him from the SUV.

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