Trailer Trash [Deep Ellum] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 11

  “And?”

  He tweaked her nose. “I love my truck. Couldn’t wait to get down here and buy her. First thing I did when I got here.”

  “Before you bought your loft?”

  “Actually, I had been traveling back and forth for a couple months, looking for a place in Deep Ellum and had the loft ready to move in before I made the move.”

  “I still can’t believe we didn’t run into each other during that time. The neighborhood’s not that big, and we like to eat at all the same places, visit the same places.” She paused a moment then let go a deep sigh. “I’m so thankful things worked out that you could come back permanently.”

  “The agency has been very generous about me moving back. I owe them. But they couldn’t ignore the fact that we have an international airport here, and I can get anywhere on the globe for assignments as quickly as I can from New York.”

  Nina snorted. “They couldn’t ignore the fact that you make them tons of money.”

  “You little smart aleck!” Judson slid his gaze to Nina.

  “It’s true, and you know it,” she said, took his hand, and kissed it.

  “Here we are,” Judson said as he turned into a double driveway leading to a traditional-style house built of brick and stone. The arched windows and wooden garage doors gave the place the look of an old cottage newly built.

  “Judson, this is nice!”

  “Told you I owed my mama a lot. I feel like she and Sammy are safe here, and it’s close to doctors, pharmacy, grocery stores. And I got a really good deal on the place.”

  Without a doubt, Judson had done very well with his modeling career. Nina could totally understand why he stayed with his agency in New York.

  The front door opened before they even got out of the truck. Dressed in jeans and a well-pressed red shirt, a tall young man with straight blond hair and dark eyebrows came out and went to Judson’s side of the truck.

  “Hey…bubba!” he said to Judson and tapped on the hood of the truck.

  This must be Sammy! Even in the early-evening light, the resemblance was clear. They shared the perfect features and coloring, but with differences. Judson swung out of the truck and gave his brother a bear hug.

  “Is…this Nina?” she heard Sammy ask.

  “Yes, this is Nina,” Judson answered and walked around the truck to get her.

  “Nina, this is my brother, Sammy. Sammy, my girlfriend, Nina.” A smile exploded across Judson’s face when he introduced her as his girlfriend.

  Nina reciprocated.

  “Sammy, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said and extended her hand, but Sammy only stood there looking at Nina, ignoring her hand.

  “Hey…Ni–na.” The voice had a childlike ring to it. This must be because of the head injury Sammy sustained in the accident that killed their father. Nina’s stomach sank. Poor darling…poor Judson.

  They followed Sammy into the foyer and into the great room, which was impeccably decorated and lit with lamps. A pretty woman with blonde hair stood waiting for them in the center of the room. She started toward them as they entered.

  “Mama, this is Nina Graham. Nina, my mom, Theresa.”

  “Nina, it’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

  Judson’s cheeks colored, as did Nina’s. They sent shy grins to one another.

  Theresa took Nina’s hand in both of hers. “Welcome.” She turned to look at Judson. “You didn’t exaggerate, son. She’s quite a beauty.” Theresa’s smile reached her gentle blue eyes framed with thick lashes.

  Nina knew the softness of her hands reflected this woman’s heart, the firmness of her grip, her tenacity. Should she call her Mrs. Lane or Theresa? She decided on Theresa since that was how Judson had introduced her.

  “Theresa, I’ve heard so much about you, too. It’s been nice to see a son love his mother so much,” Nina said, her voice tinged with emotion. She turned to Sammy. “And his brother.”

  “Oh, my Judson and Sammy are a mother’s dream. I’ve been very blessed with my good boys.” She regarded both her sons with eyes full of great love that was apparent to them and Nina.

  “Are y’all ready to eat? I’ve got roast beef with potatoes and carrots and onions. There’s rice and gravy to go with that. And green salad.” She walked into the kitchen and put on a frilly blue apron with “This Mom Can Cook!” written across it.

  “I’m…ready. Right…now,” Sammy answered. Nina had picked up on Sammy’s halting speech when they met, which seemed a bit more pronounced now, like he had to think really hard to get the words out. Her eyes met Judson’s, which filled with a sadness she’d not seen there until now.

  “Me, too, Sammy! I missed Mama’s cooking lately. You wanna help me set the table?” Judson asked Sammy, and as they went about their business, Nina could see this was a well-rehearsed ritual. She fought against the catch in her throat.

  “Theresa, what can I do to help?” She went to Theresa’s side, ready, willing, and able.

  “There’s green salad in the fridge. Would you get it out and toss it, then put it on the island with the dressings you’ll find in the refrigerator door?” Theresa said.

  Nina began her task, loving the feel of this home and the family in it.

  Supper was a delight and was topped off with buttermilk pie and coffee. The boys cleared the table, and after cleaning the kitchen and putting away the food, Nina and Theresa joined the guys in the living room. They were watching the Dallas Mavericks play the Orlando Magic. They turned the volume down when the ladies arrived.

  “Judson says you grew up in Fort Worth, too. Who are your parents? I don’t think I’ve ever known any Grahams.”

  “I took my Daddy’s name back five years ago. He died when I was eighteen-months old. I was raised with my stepfather’s name. Simpson. He and my mother are both dead now.”

  Theresa sat forward in her chair. “Simpson? What Simpson was that?”

  “Bill and Martha Simpson.”

  “Bill and Martha Simpson?” Theresa leaned back into her chair and swallowed hard. Judson went pale, alarm in his eyes.

  “What? What is it?” Panic ripped through her chest.

  “Oh, God, Nina…” Judson stood.

  She stood with him, looking from Judson to Theresa and back to Judson. “What? Tell me! What’s wrong? Please…” Nina became light-headed and felt as though she had been sucked up by a black hole.

  “That’s the name of the man driving the car that killed my dad.”

  “But, the man Bill killed’s last name was Brennon, not Lane. It can’t be…It couldn’t be…”

  “Our last name is Brennon. Lane is my middle name. I use it professionally. Brennon is my legal name.” Judson swallowed hard, his eyes filled with hard realization and shock.

  The memory of the monogram on Judson’s shirt cuff that night at Nobu hit Nina’s mind like a million sabers and seared her soul. She sank back down to the couch, her head in her hands. “Oh, dear God in heaven!” The words rushed from her chest in one fierce sob.

  Theresa stood and went to her. “Nina! Nina, wait. Let’s think this through. Maybe this was another Bill Simpson. It’s a common name…”

  Tears streaked from Nina’s eyes as she turned her face up to Theresa. “Bill Simpson, my stepfather, married to my mother, Martha. Bill killed a man and injured the man’s two sons in a drunk-driving accident in 1998.” She turned to look at Judson. “That’s where you got that scar. You were with your daddy when he was killed, and you were hurt. And Sammy…” Her attention flew to the young man who watched on with such innocence it ripped through her even more. Her breathing became shallow, her eyes dilated.

  Judson sat down beside her, completely still, his elbows propped on his spread knees, eyes staring at the floor. “Yes. It’s where the scar came from. In 1998.”

  “Nina…don’t…cry. Please.” Sammy’s monotone words tore at her heart. His breathing became uneven, agitated, his face flushed with deep red.
He fell against the wall.

  She didn’t deserve to live.

  She looked at Judson and saw his eyes brimming with tears. He stared at Sammy, then jumped up and went to him, as did his mother.

  “It’s okay, buddy. Nina’s not going to cry anymore.”

  The tenderness in Judson’s voice seared Nina’s soul.

  Sammy’s eyes rolled back in his head and moved forward again.

  “Hey, let’s go take a look in the mirror, under the lights.” Judson exchanged a harried look with Theresa. She gripped Sammy’s arm in her hands, and they started down the hall. Judson turned to look Nina’s way as they moved, but his gaze didn’t reach her eyes. He placed his hands firmly on each of his younger brother’s shoulders and with his mother led him down the hall.

  Nina watched them go, numb and unable to move. In a few moments Theresa returned and sat down on the couch near her.

  “Sammy has seizures sometimes when he gets upset,” she explained. “For what ever reason, we can head them off by putting him in front of the mirror so he can look into his own eyes. Sort of like an exercise in concentration that makes something connect in his brain.”

  “I–I’m so sorry.”

  “Judson is very good with him when this happens. Sammy’ll be all right in a little bit.”

  Nina looked Theresa full in the face. “I hated the man. He ruined everything he touched. I just—I can’t…”

  “Let’s just take some time to think about this, Nina. It happened a long time ago. We’ve learned to live with it.” Theresa put her hand on top of Nina’s.

  Nina leaned into the back of the couch and closed her eyes, sure all the blood had drained out of her body.

  “Are you all right? How about a bottle of cold spring water?” Theresa asked, clearly concerned, her face twisted in fresh grief at having to relive the tragedy and loss.

  Nina sat up and managed to act sane. “Yes, that would help,” she said and grabbed Theresa’s hand as she started for the water.

  “Theresa, thank you,” she said in a steady voice.

  When Theresa returned with the water, Nina was gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Your daddy’s a drunk! And a killer, and now everybody knows it.” The words came harsh and hard from the boy’s mouth.

  Nina shrunk back against the warm bricks of the school building, horrified and wishing the enormous windows would swallow her up. It had been another horrible night at the hospital where her stepfather had been taken after his latest drunken accident. She gazed past the schoolyard to the wall of windows in the hospital. It wasn’t enough she had spent the night there with her mother at the side of the jerk she hated, but she couldn’t escape the looming sight of the hospital. The school sat right in its hateful shadow, and she’d had to avert her weary eyes all morning.

  “Here, now! That’s not going to be tolerated, Danny Jones! Go straight to my office,” Mr. Wilson half growled at the boy then went to Nina’s side.

  “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Nina. Don’t listen to ignorant, immature boys.” He glared at Danny and shouted, “Now!” The boy spun on his heel and self-righteously stomped toward the school building. Pairs of curious eyes stared at Nina, but the crowd dispersed with one sharp look from the principal.

  “Are you all right? Would you like to go home or see the nurse? It’s perfectly okay if you want to go home. None of this is your fault.

  “No! No, sir, I don’t want to go home.” Nina hung her head and fidgeted.

  “Okay, that’s fine. Just try to remember that people sometimes say things without knowing anything about the truth.”

  “He’s just repeating what he’s heard his parents say. And it is the truth.” Nina’s tone rang empty, like her eyes. She was tired of going on, even at thirteen years old.

  She felt frozen all the way to her bones, all the way to her soul. Hugging herself, she let her eyes close to keep the tears and the sight of the hospital at bay.

  Her drunk stepfather had finally killed a man last night and would probably go to jail for it. She didn’t feel guilty that she would be glad if he went away for a long time, only overwhelmingly sad that someone had lost a husband and a father. She knew nothing of the family and didn’t want to. She would never be able to face them.

  Ever.

  * * * *

  The memory burned deep inside Nina when she woke up facedown on the concrete, nudged into semi-consciousness by the shooting pain her knee, the throbbing of her chin. She looked around, dazed until that memory morphed into another one, the shock and sorrow on Judson’s bewitching face.

  She rolled to her back and looked up at the clear night sky. Stars twinkled in the distance, far away from the hurt and shame of what she’d just experienced with the man she loved. And his family.

  She sat up and raised her fist to the heavens. “Damn you to hell!” she screamed, a raw, primitive sound gurgling from her chest.

  “You couldn’t just die and go away. You can’t just let me be! You have to reach through dimensions even now to gouge every part of me, every part of my life. I should have killed you in your sleep when I had the chance, you nasty murderous bastard.” Something inside her broke, shattered into a million tiny splinters.

  Somehow she realized she had to do something. She couldn’t just stay here and wallow in the cold darkness of the parking lot. She looked around. Hulen Mall, in southwest Fort Worth. She’d managed to find her way from Theresa’s house to the mall. She fumbled for her cell and speed dialed Thomas.

  “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

  “I need you.” The words came in sobs. “I need you to come get me.”

  “Nina! What the hell? Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not, and I won’t ever be again.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Bill Simpson killed Judson’s daddy. Oh, my God, oh, my God!” The words came out in jarring sobs.

  “Nina, hold on now, hold on! Tell me where you are. I’m comin’, I’m comin’!”

  She managed to tell him where she was. Other words spilled out, but she wasn’t sure exactly what she said, the words all went together in her mind, and she really didn’t know what came out of her mouth.

  She lay back down right where she was and waited.

  * * * *

  The low rumble of a motorcycle echoed in her ears several times before Nina opened her eyes and forced herself to sit upright. She protected her eyes with both hands against the bright shaft of light blinding her as it grew near.

  The noise stopped. The light, too.

  “Nina! What’s happened! Oh, God.” Thomas knelt, examining her face, then her knee.

  She looked up at him, muddled, unseeing. Words fought amongst themselves in her head but would not materialize in her mouth.

  “It’s gonna be okay. Your chin may need stitches, maybe the knee, too. We’ll get you taken care of.”

  Nina remained still, staring past Thomas.

  “Okay, I’m gonna call an ambulance. I don’t think you can ride on the bike.”

  Silence.

  “Nina, if you don’t look at me right now, I’m calling the ambulance.”

  She turned grieved green eyes upon the enormous, looming figure in front of her.

  “I can ride the bike.” Monotone, distant, but an appropriate, audible answer.

  Thomas nodded. “Can you stand?”

  Nina put her hands on his strong arms and pulled. He rose with her and walked her to the bike.

  “I got an extra helmet a buddy had in his truck. I was at Duke’s in Bedford,” he explained to unhearing ears while he placed the helmet on Nina’s head and secured it.

  “Swing your leg over,” he coached. She followed directions but remained trancelike.

  Thomas dug his phone out of his front pocket.

  “Sherry.”

  “Yes.”

  “Nina’s in trouble. I’m bringing her to her place.”

  “In trouble? What kind of trouble?”
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  “I’m not sure. Something about Bill Simpson killing Judson’s dad.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. She’s in really bad shape. You have a key to her place, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think she’s gonna need you. Big time.”

  “I’m on my way. Bye.”

  He replaced his helmet and mounted the Harley in front of her. “Now you put your arms around me and hold tight. If you can’t do that I’ll have to get someone with another vehicle over here to get you.”

  The firm, no-nonsense tone broke through to Nina, and she complied.

  “Tight, Nina,” he barked over his shoulder.

  She tightened her grip on her dear friend as tears came again. Her mind filtered through the news her heart couldn’t bear as the bike exited the mall parking lot and entered Interstate 20. A brief thought of letting herself fall from the bike at sixty-five miles an hour and in front of an eighteen-wheeler skirted through her mind, but she couldn’t do that to Thomas. He would never get over it, and she couldn’t do to him what had been done to her. Instead she held on as he’d told her to and let the wind whip into her face, blowing hot tears into her hair beneath the helmet.

  * * * *

  Sherry had gone directly to Nina’s apartment and was waiting in the lobby when Thomas arrived with his charge.

  “Hey, honey. Here, let’s get you off this hog.” Sherry’s words had no hint of fear or worry, but the look she and Thomas exchanged said something very different.

  Thomas dismounted first and helped Sherry get Nina to the elevator. Once inside the apartment, they settled her on the couch, and Sherry got some hot tea ready while Thomas moved his bike to the parking garage.

  Nina absently held the steaming cup of tea while Sherry cleaned her chin and tried to take a look at her knee.

  “Why don’t we get these dirty clothes off so I can clean your knee?”

  “Okay,” she said like a zombie.

  Thomas had returned, and he and Sherry exchanged that frightened glance again. Sherry took the tea cup and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch, slowly as if to keep from startling a frightened animal.