Page 6 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

Nice. Her brother was locked up, about to face the powerful wrath of the federal government, and all Special Agent Miller could think of was filling his belly.

“Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, Tess went inside. As the door clicked shut behind her, she started to turn and ask if she was locked in but stopped when the young man sitting beside a small table stood. Her throat went dry.

Jesse.

He was tall and skinny and wearing a filthy white T-shirt. For a long moment, they stared at each other. His shock of curly red hair and green eyes were so like her own. He was the same as she remembered, yet different. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest.

The boy she’d once known—sweet and lovable—was still there in his eyes and in the gentle expression of his face. Now, those childlike nuances mingled with the gangly limbs of a teenager still on the verge of manhood. Raw emotion left her incapable of speech.

“Tessie?” Her name croaked from his lips as he stood. Tears began streaming down his pale cheeks.

“Oh, Jesse.” The bag she’d had a death grip on fell to the floor as she ran past the table and threw her arms around him.

Long, skinny arms came around her back, holding her tightly. Tears spilled nonstop from her eyes. Her breaths came in shaky sobs. It’s a miracle. After all this time, they were together. Tess vowed then and there never to leave him again. No matter what hoops she had to jump through, she’d find a way to get him out of this mess. It wouldn’t be easy because she knew damn well their stepfather had orchestrated it.

As much as she wanted to continue holding her little brother, there was work to be done. If she didn’t get a grip on her emotions, she’d never be able to get him—or herself—through this.

Still sniffling, she eased away enough to look up into his watery eyes. “Look at us.” She laughed tightly. “Messy Tessie and Messy Jesse.” At her use of their dead mother’s affectionate nicknames, Jesse grinned. “Please forgive me. I never should have left you there.” It had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “You had to get outta there, and I knew that. Ha—”

“Stop!” She pressed her fingers to his mouth, glancing at the monitor bolted to the ceiling in a corner of the room, then looking quickly back to Jesse until she was certain he understood her concern. The monitor didn’t appear to be on, but she couldn’t be sure. Standing on her tiptoes, she put her mouth to his ear, whispering, “Do not mention his name. Ever. Don’t mention any of them by name. It will only make things worse. Do you understand?” When he nodded, she removed her fingertips from his lips.

He pulled her closer, putting his mouth to her ear. “He never hurt me. He took it all out on you. When you ran away, he went crazier than an outhouse rat. If you stayed, he woulda killed you. Or even worse things woulda happened.”

“I know.” Her stomach felt queasy. Memories—bad ones—rushed back in a painful blur. “But this is about you now.” She gave his shoulders a squeeze. “We can talk about other things later. After I get you out of here. For now, I need details about what got you in here in the first place.”

“Okay, but it sucks and you’re not gonna like it.”

They both sat, and when he began his story, his Alabama twang became more pronounced. She’d lost her accent years ago.

“A man started talkin’ to me at a gas station. Said he’d give me five hundred dollars if I’d drive some drums up to New Jersey. He gave me his truck and told me to get here by eight this morning, then wait for a call tellin’ me where to take the drums.”

Tess frowned. “Who was this man?”

“Dunno.” He shook his head. “But he gave me two hundred up front for gas.”

“Are you telling me a total stranger gave you money and his truck?” When her brother nodded, suspicion screamed at her. “Are you sure he doesn’t work for—” she glanced at the monitor “—him?” Meaning their stepfather. After all, he’d had some of the local cops in his pocket.

“I never saw this guy before.”

She narrowed her eyes, her suspicion growing. Their stepfather had never let either of them leave Alabama. For anything. “What did our loving stepdaddy say when you told him you’d have to leave the state to haul those drums?”

“That’s the weird part. He pushed me to go. Started babbling some shit about bein’ a man and learnin’ responsibility. Aside from that, all he said was to keep my phone with me in case he needed to get a holda me.”

Her mind spun with possible explanations for their stepfather’s uncharacteristic behavior, none of them good. “What’s in the drums?”

“Dunno that, either.” He grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I swear I don’t. I asked the guy, but he wouldn’t tell me. Told me to keep my mouth shut about it, and if I was stopped by the cops to give ’em the usual papers and lie my ass off.”

The usual papers. Meaning sovereign citizen papers.

If this guy didn’t work for their stepfather, she’d eat her foot. She resisted the impulse to chastise Jesse for being so damned gullible, but it wouldn’t help matters, and it would only upset him more.

“Okay,” she breathed. In truth, Jesse’s predicament was a thousand miles from being anywhere near okay. She’d only said the word in a half-assed attempt to make her and Jesse feel better. Not working. “And the gun?”

“I didn’t know it was in there. Ya gotta believe me, Tessie.” His eyes filled with more tears, but he did an admirable job holding them back. “I gotta get out of there. Home, I mean. Things are getting so fu—messed up. I can’t go back.”

“Okay.” She bit her lower lip. Again, that word she didn’t feel in the slightest. “You’re not going back there. I’ll make certain of it. Right now, we need to focus on getting you out of jail, so work with me.” He gave a slight nod, but the frown on his forehead and the look in his eyes were skeptical.