Read Calamity Jena (Invertary Book 4) Online

Authors: janet elizabeth henderson

Calamity Jena (Invertary Book 4) (33 page)

Her words cut right to the heart of his guilt. He’d been wondering what it said about him that he didn’t want to see his father’s body. But it was only a body now, right? His soul was gone. He was gone. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I wish I’d brought you with me,” he said.

“Oh, honey.”

Matt cleared his throat and stood straight. “I need to go. The twins and Mum are distraught. I need to get them home.”

“Yeah, you do. Call me when you get back. I’ll come over with food. Although I don’t expect anyone feels like eating.”

“I need to call the cousins too. Mum hasn’t told anyone but us.”

“How about I call Magenta and get her to deal with it? She can tell Harry and he can tell everyone else.”

He felt his shoulders sag with relief. “That would be great.” He’d told plenty of people over the years when their loved ones had died. This was different. Harder. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he needed the help.

“He’ll understand. We all understand,” Jena said.

He closed his eyes as tears threatened. He needed this. Touching base with Jena. Keeping himself sane. He needed her.

“I meant what I said, princess,” he said. “I love you and I’m keeping you.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about that later, you Neanderthal.” There was a smile in her voice, though. It gave him hope.

They said their goodbyes as he pushed the door open to the family room. His eyes hit Claire and he knew he had to say something. He knew it was time to let her go. To let them go. His mum was right. He’d been holding on to his role as their pseudo-parent for far too long. He felt his chest clench as he crouched down in front of Claire. He put his hand on her cheek and almost felt overwhelmed by the love he had for his sisters. Claire gave him a questioning look.

“Grunt.” Matt swallowed hard. “If he’s the one, don’t let him go. He’s a decent guy. He meant well. He’s crazy about you. Give him another chance.”

Her bottom lip trembled as she threw herself into his arms. He hugged her hard as his mother smiled at him through her tears.

“I’ll still kill him if he hurts you,” he told Claire.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m glad.”

“Always, kiddo—I’ll always be there for you and Megan.”

His other sister tackled him with a hug. Matt fought to hold back his tears. At least one of them had to be in a fit state to drive, and by the looks of it, the job fell on him.

Not that he’d have it any other way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

34

 

The sad news about Matt’s dad made Jena think about her mom. There was something she needed to do, something she’d been putting off, and the time to do it was now. Jena dressed in her favourite jeans and Snoopy sweatshirt, and cycled to town on the old bike she’d bought second hand. She stopped off to speak to Dougal first, apologised profusely and promised payment for damages. To her surprise, Dougal refused the offer of money.

“You’ve got enough on your plate, lassie,” he said. “How about we just agree you won’t go dancing on any more of my furniture?”

“I promise.” Jena held a hand over her chest to prove how much she meant it.

Dougal seemed suitably impressed by her sincerity.

“And how about you don’t bring any more dates into the pub? It’s costing me a fortune.”

Her face flushed as she tucked her wild hair behind her ear. “I promised Matt I wouldn’t date for a while.” She shuffled her red embroidered wedges on the carpet. “He seems to think we’re in a relationship and doesn’t want me to say yes to any more men.”

Dougal barked out a loud laugh. “You make sure you call as soon as there’s even a hint at a wedding. I’ve got a whole betting pool running on this.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Come on, Dougal, you’ve got to stop people betting on me. It’s not on.”

He shook his head as he folded his arms over his yellow shirt and green tartan waistcoat. “Now go, Jena love. I’ll absorb the costs of your misadventures, but I’m keeping the betting going. It brings in business.”

She frowned at him, but she couldn’t very well argue the point. She’d seen the state of the bar—there was a lot of damaged furniture, and she had no money to repair, or replace, any of it.

“Fine, keep betting, but if you’re running a pool on my wedding, I want to put ten pounds on never.”

“No problem. I’ll get right on that.” Dougal walked away from her, still laughing and muttering about her making a fool’s bet.

Jena growled in his direction before stomping up the stairs to the hotel rooms above the pub. The stairs were carpeted in red tartan and the walls painted a deep green. It should have been gaudy, but it wasn’t. It was warm and expensive looking.

Jena knocked on her mother’s door and waited. She could hear her banging around inside. Her stomach clenched, her palms tingled and her heart raced—all over talking to her mom. She shook her head. If that didn’t say something about their relationship, she didn’t know what did.

The heavy wooden door swung open and her mother scowled at her. “Well, well, you decided to spend time with your mom. Took you long enough.”

Jena followed her into the room. It was lovely. Decorated in creams with a red tartan accent. Classy as well as comfortable.

Before Jena could say anything, her mom was off on a new tirade. “I can’t get a hold of Josh at all and Frank has disappeared off the face of the planet. He’s checked out, his room is empty and no one knows where he’s gone.” She faced Jena with her hands on the hips of her skinny jeans. Her white vest clung to her enhanced breasts. Her neck and wrists were decorated with copious amounts of silver and her eyes were outlined in her trademark black. “I hope you’re here to take me to the castle. I can’t stay in Scotland forever. I need to get this song to Josh and find out if he wants me to tour with him in the next few months. I have arrangements to make.”

When her mother took a breath, Jena jumped in. “Frank was arrested for trying to kidnap me. He’s been sent back to the States.”

Her mother blinked a couple of times before licking her lips. “I guess that means you’re it where Josh and Mitch are concerned. Let me get my jacket and you can take me to him. They won’t even let me past the gate to the castle.”

The news of the kidnapping had about as much impact on her mother as a speck of dust would have colliding with the moon. Her mother turned away to nab the black leather jacket that was lying on the bed. Jena put her hand on her mom’s arm to stop her. She looked irritated when she turned back to Jena. She tapped her toe impatiently on the thick cream-coloured carpet.

“What is it, Jena? I want to get out of here.”

Jena took a deep breath. “I didn’t come here to introduce you to Josh. I came to ask you to go home.”

Her mother sucked in a loud, dramatic breath. Her hand flattened against her chest. “You’re kicking me out of your town?”

Jena swallowed hard. “No. I’m asking you to leave. I’m not going to introduce you to Josh or Mitch. No one is. Dougal has been sending you off on a wild goose chase, making up Josh sightings to keep you out of the way. No one in this town wants you to hassle Josh or Mitch. They belong here. They’re protected here.”

“From crazy opportunists or fans. Not from serious musicians like me.” Her mother dismissed her with a wave and turned back to get her jacket.

“Mom.” Jena clenched her hands tight in front of her. “You fall into the crazy opportunist camp. You’ve come all this way to force Josh to listen to your songs. You’re hunting him down like a stalker, making deals with people to get to him. It’s not going to happen. You need to go home.”

Nastiness shone from her mother’s face. “What if I want to stay here to visit with my daughter?”

Jena shook her head. “Yeah, we both know you don’t want to visit with me. You’ve never visited me. I left home at sixteen and you’ve never come to see me, not once. I visit you. Usually in whatever club you’re singing in. I call you, you never call me—unless you want something.” She looked up at her mother. “Let’s stop pretending. You don’t want to be around me. I think you should go home.”

Her mother sneered. “Of course I don’t want to be around you. You’re a loser, Jena. If you didn’t have my eyes, I’d wonder where you came from. Look at you. You’ve wasted every opportunity you’ve been given, you’ve thrown away good men, let your career die and now you’re hiding in this backwater. And for what? A house that’s falling apart and a small-town cop. It’s pathetic.”

Jena stared at her mother for a moment. All the years she’d tried to earn her love flashed before her eyes. They were wasted years. It had been a wasted effort. This woman, her mother, didn’t love anyone but herself. In fact, Jena wasn’t even sure she could see anything outside of herself and her needs. Jena knew, without a doubt, she was all but invisible to the woman.

“Okay,” Jena said at last. “I’ve said what I came here to say. Don’t come round the house, Mom. You won’t be welcome.”

She left her mother standing with her mouth hanging open. She closed the door gently behind her and left the way she’d come in. Feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. Deep in her heart she knew she’d never belonged to her mother. She’d never belonged anywhere. A smile started slowly until it was so wide she was grinning. She’d never belonged anywhere until now. Now she belonged in Invertary.

Matt was waiting for her outside the pub. He was leaning against his SUV, looking worn out.

“I just got back,” he said. “I dropped everyone at my mum’s house. The rest of the family were already there. I told them I had to come get you.”

Jena walked right into his arms without a second’s hesitation. “Let’s pick up some food on the way. People need to eat.”

Matt nodded, but he didn’t stop holding her. People passed them, calling their hellos. Matt didn’t respond. He just kept his arms wrapped around Jena, in the middle of the high street on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. And it felt perfect.

 

Grunt arrived at Claire’s family home exactly ten minutes after Claire had rung him asking him to come. He didn’t know why he was there. She still thought he was a criminal and a kidnapper. He couldn’t allow himself to hope that something had changed. That she was giving him a chance to prove how much he cared about her.

He ran a nervous hand over his head before he knocked on the front door of her mother’s house. It was a nice place, well kept. A typical example of the grey stone buildings that dotted the town—the windows were large, the ceilings high and the roofs tiled with slate. It looked like a good family home. A place where Claire would have been happy. He was pleased about that.

The door swung open and Claire was standing there. Her eyes were red and swollen. She chewed on her bottom lip as she looked up at him with big, sad eyes. It took all of his well-trained self-control not to grab her and hold on tight.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He felt his rage ignite under his skin. All she needed to do was point him in the right direction and he would take care of it.

“Dad.” The tears streamed down her face as her throat closed on the words.

She didn’t need to say anything else. He knew. He felt her pain. All of it.

“He’s gone, baby?”

She nodded, a sob erupting from her mouth. She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. Grunt was desperate to touch her. Desperate. Torture would have been better than suffering the distance between them when Claire needed him.

“I…” She looked away.

Grunt swallowed a growl. How as he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say? He was about ten seconds away from falling to his knees and begging her to let him love her. To let him take care of her, in any way she’d allow. Her eyes swung back up to his, glassy with tears.

“I need you, Samuel,” she whispered, her lips trembling with each word.

Grunt closed the distance between them in record time. He lifted her right off her feet and cradled her to his chest. “You’ve got me, baby. You’ve always got me.”

He held her while she sobbed. Never in his life had he felt as grateful as he did in that moment. Grateful for the chance to be Claire’s rock. To hold her hand. To dry her tears. To keep her close.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

Over her shoulder he spotted Matt coming up the path, holding Jena’s hand. Grunt’s muscles tensed in readiness for whatever was coming. Matt stared at them for a minute, then gave Grunt a tight-lipped nod, clearly signalling approval. Grunt was still reeling when Matt closed the door behind them.

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