Without You. Mary Baxter Lynn
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unpleasant circumstances.”
“I know, but it’ll be over soon.”
“Man, that’d be great.”
“Don’t sound so shocked, Terrance,” Jackson injected. “Why do you think I hired her?”
“I’m not shocked,” Terrance corrected hurriedly. “I have every confidence in Hallie, too.” He paused again, stepping aside as their food arrived. “I’ll get lost now and let you enjoy your dinner. If there’s anything I can do, Hallie, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Trust me, I won’t. And thanks.”
Once their beautifully presented food was in front of them, they fell silent again. The smell engaged Hallie’s senses, making her realize how hungry she was. In fact, she’d barely eaten anything all day.
“Dig in,” Jackson said. “How ’bout some more wine?”
When Jesse moved to refill her glass, Hallie covered it with her palm. “No, thanks, I’ve had enough. I have to be sharp in the morning.”
Once they were alone, they both began to eat. Despite the sexual tension that hummed between them, she was able to enjoy her meal. Jackson had always been easy to be with. She was the high-strung one, the one on high alert. He’d always had the ability to calm her nerves, make her feel cherished.
“What are you thinking about?” Jackson asked between bites.
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” he said softly.
Color surged into her face, but she ignored his innuendo. When she didn’t respond, he took another bite of steak.
Once he’d washed it down with wine, he asked in a casual tone, “How come you never married?”
“How come you didn’t?” she fired back, though she felt the flush on her cheeks deepen.
“Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
“No,” she said quickly. “No, I don’t.”
He chuckled, only to frown as someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Hallie had noticed the man when he came in the door. Although he appeared to know his way around the club, he didn’t look like he belonged there. He seemed ill at ease and unsure of himself. And he certainly was not dressed for the occasion.
She’d been shocked when he targeted Jackson and made a beeline for their table. Now, as she watched Jackson turn around and gasp, her stomach knotted.
“What—” Jackson never got the rest of his sentence out of his mouth.
“Stand up, you son of a bitch.” The man was in his face, and spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth. “Look me in the eye when you tell me why you killed my sister.”
That was when Hallie saw the bulge in his pocket. Her hand flew to her heart. A gun.
Ten
Just as he was about to lunge out of his chair and face Roberta’s brother, Edgar Nesbitt, Hallie cried out, “Jackson, he’s got a gun!”
Jackson froze for a second, conscious of the danger to Hallie and the patrons. Still, he looked his accuser in the eye and said in a calm but deadly tone, “Take it easy, Edgar. I didn’t hurt your sister.”
“You’re a lying bastard,” Edgar muttered, so close to his face that Jackson smelled the soured alcohol on his breath.
“I’m not lying,” Jackson said again in the same calm but deadly tone.
Without taking his eyes off Jackson, Edgar spat to Hallie, “Lady, I don’t have no gun. If I did, he’d already be dead.”
“Back off, Nesbitt—” the calm had slipped several degrees after Edgar addressed Hallie “—unless you want to be hauled out of here in handcuffs. Or better yet, a body bag.”
Nesbitt poked Jackson in the chest, his features twisted. “Do you think I care what you do to me?”
Jackson grabbed his hand so hard, he heard Nesbitt’s knuckles crack.
Pain or not, it didn’t stop his mouth. “My sister’s dead and it’s all your fault.”
Before Jackson could respond, Donnie Petty, Elan’s head of security, tapped Nesbitt on the shoulder. “Your moment in the sun’s over, buddy. You’re coming with me.”
Within seconds, the volatile situation had been de-fused. What Hallie had mistaken for a weapon had been a pipe. Still, one never knew.
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