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With a jerk of her chin, Evie asked hopefully, “Macaroni and cheese?”
Nora pretended to think for a second. “We’d have to stop by the store on the way home.”
“Okay,” she beamed, immediately jumping from her helper’s stool in order to gather her things.
Darlene chuckled, straightened the string on the jar Evie had abandoned, and then handed it to Nora. “You’ve got her tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Al’right, then. We’ll see you at dinner.”
He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter, cluttered with junk mail and old receipts he’d been meaning to throw away for weeks. Guided only by the faint light of a streetlamp reaching its way through his apartment’s living room window, Lawson headed straight for the fridge. It was mostly empty. Traveling back and forth between Nashville and Shelbyville meant a lot of miles on his Silverado and not enough time for a grocery run. He knew he needed to do better, but that night he didn’t have the energy to worry about it. He reached around his stash of Gatorade and grabbed himself a beer. It had been that kind of day.
He enjoyed his work. He’d only been with Vollucci Security for a few months, but it was turning out to be a decent fit. His boss, Cruiz Moretti, had proved to be more friend than foe; and the owner, Leo Vollucci, was a respectable guy. In a way, the men who made up their crew were like family—the women in their lives making it so—and he somehow managed to get lucky enough to be adopted into the fold.
It was the concept of family that had him sitting in the dark of his sparsely furnished apartment, nursing his ice-cold beer.
For eight years, he was part of a brotherhood only his fellow soldiers could ever comprehend. Even if he wasn’t wearing the uniform anymore, he still belonged to the Corps. It would always be a part of him. It gave him purpose for so long—the kind of purpose that truly meant something. When he got out, he understood he’d never find anything like he had with the men inhis unit. By the grace of God, he managed to find a brotherhood of a different kind, and he was grateful.
After he left the Marines, Lawson never thought he’d find himself in the company of celebrities the likes of Ashley Hicks or Sage McCoy. Both artists were global sensations on their way to becoming musical legends of their time. But Vollucci Security was founded on the good reputation Vollucci had earned after nearly a decade at Ashley’s side. It wasn’t unusual when Hicks called Vollucci for a couple extra bodies that week. Though, what Lawson experienced the last couple of days was different than he’d expected.
The two singer songwriters were in Nashville working on a collaboration piece. Both men had brought their families. There were six kids between the two of them. The paparazzi and their fans loved to see them. McCoy and Hicks loved to keep their children’s faces off the internet. Along with their personal security, Lawson was hired to be one more body and one more set of eyes to help combat the frenzy that came as a result of two beloved Grammy award winning artists in town with their clans.
There hadn’t been any real threats, given the amount of time the group was in the studio. The kids seemed to be used to the environment, and Corie and Millie entertained them and enjoyed each other’s company like women do. It was the way Hicks and McCoy interacted with their kids between takes which stuck with Lawson even now, after a long day.
There was a time in his life when he’d wanted that—a wife and kids of his own. A home. A real one, like the one he grew up in, not the bleak apartment which was little more than a roof over his head right now. In some ways, that felt like a lifetime ago.
In all of his thirty-two years on the planet, there had only ever been one woman he’d wanted enough to marry. Much as he loved her, he’d managed to screw up his chances. It had been sixyears since he’d watched the love of his life walk away. Even so, on days like this one, it was hard for him not to think of Nora-Jean Barton; hard for him not to dream of her and all they could have been. Much as he knew he should move on, the best he’d ever been able to do was shove her into the darkest corner of his mind in hopes of muting his longing.
Worked a lot better when there were a few state lines between them. Hell, worked better still when there was an ocean separating them. But Shelbyville was home. It’s where his family was. It’s where he always knew he’d settle. He was a small-town kind of guy. The pace of life suited him well, especially after the war he’d seen. When the opportunity to move back presented itself, he couldn’t pass it up—even if it put him in close proximity to her.
Masochistic as it was, he took another pull from his beer, swallowed, closed his eyes, and let his mind conjure her face. She’d always be the prettiest girl in all of Tennessee.
Lawson was roused from a doze into which he hadn’t meant to fall. The bottle he’d been nursing was still gripped loosely between two fingers and a thumb, the dredges of beer which remained warm and long forgotten. He sucked in a breath, filling his lungs as he tried to get his bearings. It only took him a second to register he’d been awakened by his ringing cell phone. He set the beer bottle on the floor between his booted feet and simultaneously dug into his pocket for the device. He frowned slightly when he saw it was his father calling. Lawson didn’t know the time, but he guessed it was too late for good news.
“Judge?” he answered.
“It’s your brother,” Keaton said instead of hello. “He’s been stabbed.”
Atticus Steele had been the guy Lawson had looked up to his whole life. While he’d always stayed close to home, and his lifehad never seen the nightmare of real battle, his older brother was no stranger to danger. He’d been part of the Shelbyville Police Department for more than a decade. He was a Sargent working as a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division.
It was always a possibility that Lawson would receive a call like this one—but knowing that to be true didn’t make him any more prepared.
Lawson’s spine grew rigid. Whatever exhaustion he’d succumbed to earlier was instantly forgotten. “What do we know?”
“Reed says he wasn’t wearin’ his vest,” he reported, speaking of Atticus’ partner. “He called me as soon as they got to the hospital. Your mama and I are on our way now.”
Lawson nodded, aware his father’s even tone was on behalf of his mother who was, no doubt, not nearly as calm. Gale Steele was one of the strongest women he knew, but she despised the uncertainty of a dangerous situation—especially if it involved any of her three children.
“Where’d they take him?” asked Lawson, already on his feet and headed for his keys.
“Vanderbilt.”
“I’m right behind you.”
“Do me a favor—”
“I’ll let her know, Judge,” he interrupted, grabbing his jacket on his way to the door. “See you in a few.”
