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Keeping What's His(34)

By:Jamie Begley


“He want me to come home?”

“No, stay put. I don’t want you giving anyone an easy target! I’m headed home. I’ll stay until you get back tomorrow,” Tate answered. Sutton had put him on speaker phone so Tate could talk to him as he drove.

“Be careful, brother. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Greer’s affection for his brother almost made him seem normal. And then… he blew the kind thought. “I’d have to do all the work without you.”

“See you in the morning.” Tate nodded at her to disconnect the call.

“Your brother is an asshole.”

“He’s not so bad.”

“Yes, he is. He’s the most self-absorbed man I’ve ever met.”

Tate didn’t try to argue back. Even he had to admit she was right.

When they pulled up in front of Tate’s house, the yard flooded with lights from all direction.

“I bet your electricity bill would feed the homeless for a month.”

Tate grinned as he opened the truck door for her. Sutton slid across the bench seat into his waiting arms, and he gently lifted her to the ground.

“Wait until I go to the hardware store and buy some for your yard. I like to know if someone comes snooping around.”

“It has to go off if an animal triggers it.”

“They do all the time. It makes them a better target,” he said unrepentantly.

“We need to have a serious talk about your views on wildlife.”

“I don’t care if they have two or four legs. I’m going to blow anything away that comes near the house.”

Sutton shook her head. She was never going to change his attitude. She was either going to have to deal with it or circumvent. She decided to buy trash cans with lids that locked. If she didn’t, her poor possum was going to be stew meat with the way Tate threatened.

She nodded toward the house. “Dustin’s watching from the window.”

“I know.” Tate kissed her soundly before releasing her.

She walked toward the front porch on her unsteady heels, nearly falling, but Tate caught her, lifting her high into his arms and carrying her the rest of the way.

“I could get used to this,” she teased.

“I’ll always be there to carry you whenever you need me. Even when you don’t, I’ll be there.”

Dustin was still watching them with his shotgun in his hands, ready to protect them if needed.

“The Porters aren’t perfect. You’re mean, stubborn, and would rather shoot someone when you’re mad, but you’re the perfect man for me.” Even as she said it, she couldn’t understand her reasoning.

He arrogantly summed it up with six words. “I’m the only man for you.”

Even a priceless vase had a crack or two.

“Tate, believe me, no one is like you.”

* * *

Tate sat up straight in bed, stumbling from the bed he went to the living room so he wouldn’t wake Sutton. Jerking the curtain back he stared out the window, his shotgun in a tight grip, he had heard the bells for the third time. Death had found his victim.





Chapter 22



Sutton stood in the kitchen, watching Dustin, Tate, and Logan eat breakfast while she drank her coffee.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to help with the dishes?” she asked Holly.

“No, I’m almost finished. This will be much easier after next week. Tate’s having a new kitchen installed.”

She was struck by how pretty Holly was when she smiled. Sutton couldn’t find it in herself to be envious of the woman, though. She was just too nice.

Holly was constantly trying to please the men as if she was unsure of her position in the tight-knit family. She wore a pair of jeans that showed her curvy butt, but she had put on an oversized top as if she was trying to hide the size of her overlarge breasts. Sutton had to admit she envied that problem.

The sound of a pickup outside had Logan jumping up from the table to look out the window.

“It’s Uncle Greer, and he has that stupid Diane with him.” Logan ran back to the table to finish his cereal.

“And so it begins …” Sutton murmured.

“What did you say?”

Sutton nodded toward Logan. “The next generation of Porters.”

Holly laughed. “I’ve thought the same thing myself many times. As long as he turns out more like Dustin and Tate, he’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t take anything from Greer?”

“Just one thing, and I’m trying to nip it in the bud.”

Greer opened the door, completely taking over the room with his appearance. Diane came in after him, dressed in a pair of shorts that showed the cheeks of her ass and a T-shirt that was completely inappropriate for the cool weather outside.

“You all still eating? We had breakfast at the diner.” Glancing down at the table, Greer surveyed his brothers eating oatmeal doused in fruit. “Mine was better cold than that crap you’re eating.”

Sutton’s hand tightened on her coffee cup at seeing the hurt look on Holly’s face.

“Eating at the diner is what’s putting that spare tire around your waist.” Tate’s harsh voice left no one in the room in doubt that he wasn’t going to tolerate anyone mistreating Holly.

Diane’s arms circled Greer’s waist from behind, her hands splaying open on his flat stomach. “He hasn’t got an ounce of spare flesh. I can vouch for that,” she purred.

Sutton turned to place her empty cup on the counter, swallowing hard when she saw the flash of emotion on Holly’s face that brought dread to her heart. The sweet woman was in love with the worst Porter brother.

Tate’s cell phone broke the uncomfortable silence. Everyone in the room listened as he talked.

“Hey, Rachel …” His voice broke off as he listened to whatever Rachel was saying. “No one saw anything?”

Sutton’s stomach sank.

“Call me if you hear anything else.” Tate disconnected the call, staring at them grimly. “Holly, take Logan into the bedroom and turn on a movie for him.”

“Let’s go, Logan.” Holly ushered the boy out of the room.

As soon as they heard the bedroom door close, Tate told them the awful news. “Mick found Kyle Hayes dead this morning, sitting in his truck in back of Rosie’s bar.”

Kyle Hayes was the younger cousin of Asher and Holt. He was just a young boy when Sutton had left town. He was one of the only Hayeses who had been allowed to attend school in town. She had often seen Kyle trailing after his much older cousins with hero worship in his eyes.

“They’ll be out for blood.”

“Yes, they will.” Tate’s face became even grimmer, frightening Sutton. “I saw him parking his truck as we were leaving. The parking lot was full, so he parked in the back. Rachel said Knox told her he was stabbed to death.”

“Kyle knew how to take care of himself. He had to have known the killer, or he would never have gotten close enough to him to do any damage.” Greer’s face had gone white. “After the fight we had with Asher and Holt in the bar, you know who they’re going to blame.”

“Us,” Tate confirmed everyone’s worst fear.

“Knox can tell them he saw us at Lookout Mountain, and Diane can vouch for Greer being with her,” Sutton spoke up.

“They aren’t going to believe we didn’t have anything to do with Kyle’s murder.”

Sutton had the awful feeling Tate was right.

When he stood up and put on his hat, she placed a hand on his arm. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go talk to Asher. If I don’t make him believe me, there’s going to be a blood bath.”

“No!” Sutton gripped his arm more tightly. “Let Knox go.”

“He’s not going to believe Knox.” Tate pried her hand off his arm. “I have to go, Sutton.”

“I’ll go,” Greer volunteered.

“No, I want you here. You take care of the family.” Hidden in his words was ‘if I don’t come back’.

“Tate … please, don’t go.”

“Walk outside with me.” He took her hand, pulling her behind him as he went outside. “It’s going to be all right.”

Sutton pointed at his black eye. “They’re not going to believe you. They’re going to still be mad about the fight last night, and with their cousin being dead a few hours later … They just aren’t going to believe you.”

“I’ll make them believe me. They both know one thing about the Porters: we’re not cowards. I stand a better chance convincing them we had nothing to do with Kyle’s death if I stare them in the eye and tell them the truth.”

“Will you at least call Knox and tell him where you’re going?”

“That, I can do.”

“I’m going to be worried sick until you get back.”

“Then keep yourself occupied. Clean the …”

Sutton’s eyes narrowed. “Choose your next words carefully.”

Tate, unlike Greer, wasn’t a stupid man. “Find something you want to do to keep yourself occupied.”

“I’ll call Cheryl and have lunch with her. She’s been calling, and I’ve been putting her off. I can pick up some flood lights while I’m in town.”

“What made you change your mind about the flood lights?”