Myrna Mackenzie

Keeping Her Safe


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somehow.”

      In his heart, Blake knew that he had to learn to deal with his own part in what had happened. Despite what Patrick and Ryan had said, Blake knew that he was not blameless in all of this. Not by a long shot.

      Jason had been a problem child, and Blake had let it pass. He had ignored Darcy’s pleas to keep his children away from their grandfather, Farley. Farley had been half-crazy and jealous of the Fortune family, telling his grandson, Jason, about how Kingston Fortune had been fathered by a Jamison and how some of Kingston’s money and power should have belonged to the Jamisons. Never mind that Kingston’s father hadn’t even known he’d had a son, or that Kingston had been raised by the Fortune family. Farley ranted and raved to Jason, and Jason, already a troubled young man who idolized his grandfather, had listened to his grandfather’s demented ravings of injustice for years.

      Deep down inside, Blake knew that he was to blame. He should have paid more attention to Jason, loved his son enough to try harder to save him from himself. If he had done that, maybe Jason’s idolization of Farley wouldn’t have happened. Farley had been a dangerous man.

      Now Blake couldn’t help wondering just how dangerous and depraved Jason really was, and what he would do now that he was trapped.

      “I have to try to do something,” Blake said.

      Five

      The next morning, Vincent peered down at the report on Jason Jamison. He tried to think about what it had been like for Natalie in that moment when she had realized that Jason had murdered Melissa, when Natalie’s eyes had met his.

      Jason was a man who had killed twice. He was a man without scruples, and Vincent didn’t doubt that he would kill again if killing suited his purposes.

      “Is he the one?” Vincent whispered. “And if he is, what kind of connections does he have? Have I done all I can to make sure that Natalie is safe?”

      Against his will, a memory arose of himself as a young boy swearing to protect his mother from his father’s fists. Yet he had come home from school time and time again to find her battered and bloody. The impotence had almost driven him crazy. It was what drove him to do what he did for a living, and most of the time he was damn proud of his accomplishments. He was no longer assailed by those doubts or that feeling of being helpless in the face of circumstances.

      Jason might have connections, ways and means Vincent was unaware of. Most likely he did, since he had been able to work his way up so far in Fortune, TX, Ltd. But Vincent had resources, too, and he could supply Natalie with round-the-clock surveillance.

      “Heaven help Jason Jamison if he gets through my boundaries. He won’t touch her. I swear I won’t let him,” he said beneath his breath.

      Blake watched as Jason was led in cuffs toward the table where he waited. It was now or never, he thought. Jason was under heavy guard, but once he was moved to a maximum-security prison, communication would be even more difficult. At least it would be more stilted, if that were possible. If they were ever going to begin to talk, to unravel the twisted threads of their relationship that had contributed at least in part to Jason’s downward spiral into darkness, then let them do it here. Today.

      “Son.” Blake barely got the word out, his throat was so tight.

      Jason smiled. “‘Son?’ How touching, but inappropriate. Farley was my father, more than he was yours.”

      The knife sliced through Blake. “Farley was your grandfather. He was not a sane man, not near the end and not for many years before that.”

      Jason narrowed his eyes. Blake almost could envision his son doing to him what he’d done to Melissa if Jason hadn’t been cuffed. “The Fortunes made Farley that way,” Jason said.

      Blake shook his head. “The Fortunes didn’t have anything to do with that. They owe our family nothing.”

      “They owe us everything. Kingston Fortune was sired by a Jamison. He built an empire, one that should have stayed in the Jamison family.”

      “Kingston’s father didn’t even know he existed. Kingston was raised by Dora and Hobart Fortune. He was theirs.”

      Jason growled. “The money and the power should have been ours. Farley tried to tell Kingston that, but Kingston wouldn’t have anything to do with him. I would have made the Fortune family pay for their indifference. I had plans.”

      “Is that—” Blake felt tears clog his throat. “Did Christopher’s death have anything to do with your plans?”

      Jason stared his father full in the face. “Christopher was a pain in the ass. He tried to spoil things for me.”

      If he hadn’t been seated, Blake was sure he would have fallen. Christopher had been good and kind. Of all the Jamisons, he was the one who saw the way clearly, who always chose the path of least destruction. He was the one who cared.

      “You killed your own brother.”

      Jason laughed. It was an oily, ugly sound. “You should have seen him. He actually wanted us to try to be a family. What an idiot.”

      Rage boiled within Blake’s chest. Bile filled his throat, but he fought it back. “You don’t even care that you killed him.”

      Jason smiled again. “On the contrary, it was one of the finest moments of my life. He was always the good one, but where did all that goodness actually get him? Facedown and bloated, floating with the fishes in Lake Mondo. And you know what the best part of all this is?”

      Blake felt the blood draining away from his face. He braced himself for what was to come.

      “It hurts you that he’s dead. I love that,” Jason said. He licked his lips slowly. “I really do love that.”

      “And the woman?”

      “The bitch? She was going to betray me. Too bad she didn’t get a chance. Melissa was an opportunist. She might have changed her mind and decided to stick with me if she’d had a chance. But—” he leaned forward slightly “—she was having trouble talking at the end. Her eyes were bulging out. She wasn’t nearly as pretty then as she had been.”

      Blake fought for air, for words, for sanity. “You don’t even care, do you? Not about Chris or the woman or anything.”

      Slowly Jason shook his head and smiled. “I care about one thing.” He paused as if for dramatic effect.

      Blake refused to ask the question. It was obvious that Jason couldn’t wait to tell him the rest, anyway.

      “I care about revenge,” Jason said. “I want revenge, and I’ll have it. Don’t worry about that, father.” He drawled the last word, sneered it. “I’ll have my revenge, on everyone who deserves it.”

      Blake’s heart broke completely then. Jason was going the way of Farley. He had no laudable goals, no future, no conscience. It would be so easy to walk away. He wanted to walk away. No, to run, as fast and as far as he could, to pretend that this son had never been born.

      But that was where the problems had started, wasn’t it? He had turned away from Jason’s childhood problems, pretended they didn’t exist. Two people, one his beloved child, were dead as a result. His conscience would never allow him to live in peace for the rest of his life. Especially if he turned away again.

      Rebelling against all that came naturally, Blake watched the guard take Jason away, and he vowed one thing. He would do all that he could to fulfill Christopher’s goals and the goals that should have been his own.

      He would reach Jason somehow if it was the last thing he did.

      Natalie felt like a tightly strung wire. Nearly a week had passed. Vincent was everywhere she went, and knowing he was always behind her made her aware of herself in a way that she never had been before. That was all too clear this morning, she noted, staring at the mess on her bed.

      Clothes were tossed