The Defender's Duty

“You can’t. I’m still here.”

“Not for long. Stay put for now. I’m going to see what my brother has to say for himself.” Jude limped into the kitchen, irritated with his brother, with the woman in his living room, but mostly with himself.

He lifted the phone, punching in his brother’s number, his throbbing legs making him more aggravated by the minute. He’d been hoping and praying he would finally have a chance to confront his attacker face-to-face. Instead, he was dealing with another of Grayson’s attempts to take charge. Not to mention the pretty young woman who’d just walked into his life.

How old was Lacey, anyway? Seventeen or eighteen? It wouldn’t surprise him to find out she was still in high school. Way too young to be wandering around by herself in the wee hours of the morning.

“You’d better have a good reason for calling me at two in the morning.” Grayson’s harsh greeting pulled Jude away from thoughts of Lacey Carmichael and back where they should have been—on his brother’s frustrating need to stick his nose in Jude’s life.

“I do. She’s about five-two and a hundred pounds.”

“A hundred and three.” Lacey had the nerve to walk into his kitchen and butt into the conversation, her cheerful announcement doing nothing to ease Jude’s irritation.

He turned to face her, ready to let her know exactly how he felt about the intrusion, but she’d grabbed the coffee grounds he’d left out on the counter and was starting a fresh pot, so he decided it wouldn’t do any harm to let her finish.

“You’ve got woman trouble and you want to talk to me about it? That’s a first.” Grayson still sounded annoyed, but Jude didn’t miss the hint of amusement in his voice.

“I’ve got another home-care aide standing in my kitchen. She says you had something to do with that.”

“She’s there now? She wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow night. I figured I’d ring you in the morning to let you know she was coming.”

Jude tensed at the words, and he studied Lacey more carefully. Arriving a day early was suspicious enough. Add in the way she’d shown up in the middle of the night and gone to hisdoor instead of her own…She didn’t look like a threat, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t one. “What’s her name?”

“The home-care aide?”

“Who else?”

“Lacey Carmichael.”

That matched. “And her description?”

“I’ve never met her in person. I interviewed her over the phone. Why? What’s going on?”

“I’m just wondering why a professional would show up for a job a day early.” His fingers tightened on the gun, and he half expected Lacey to turn, a weapon in her hand. If she even was Lacey Carmichael.

“Because she decided to drive straight through instead of staying in a hotel. Why waste money when there was an empty house waiting for me?” She cut in again, digging through the cupboards until she found two mugs. She filled one and held it out to him, meeting his stare squarely.

He took it, looking into her eyes, looking for a lie, and finding himself caught again in their deep-green depth. If she was lying, she was good at it. Better than some hardened criminals Jude had met.

“Jude? You still there?” Grayson pulled Jude’s attention back where it needed to be.

“Yeah. And I’m still teed off. I told you no more home-care aides after the last one left. I don’t need one.”

“Tell that to the dirty laundry piled up on your bedroom floor and the dishes that are stacked ten high in your sink.”

“There’s nothing on my bedroom floor.” Except a layer or two of dust. Hardwood tended to collect it, and Jude hadn’t gotten around to dry mopping. He would, though. Eventually. And eventually he’d also tackle the dishes and the pile of laundry sitting near the washing machine. Right now, though, his focus was on more important things. Like finding his attacker. And making sure no one else was in the line of fire when the final confrontation came. Especially not a little blond princess with fearless green eyes.

“Doesn’t matter whether there is stuff on your floors or not. I hired the home-care aide. I signed the contract three days ago.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make, as I told you the last four times you hired home-care aides.” Jude ground the words out, not even trying to rein in his anger.

“I didn’t make it. The family did.”

“As in you and Tristan?”

“No. As in the family. We all talked about it, and we all decided it was for the best.”

“You’re all wrong.”

“I don’t think so. You haven’t been the same since your accident. We think having ’round-the-clock help will get you back to your old self more quickly. Come on, Jude. This isn’t something new. We’ve been over it before.”

“And I’ve told you every time that I don’t need help around the house.”

“Tell that to Mom and Piper. They’ve been cooking your meals and cleaning your house once or twice a week for almost a month.”

“I didn’t ask them to.” Jude sounded like a spoiled kid and knew it. He took a deep breath, pushing aside his frustration. Nearly dying had taught him what was important. His family. He wouldn’t risk them, couldn’t risk them being hurt. “Look, Gray, I appreciate everyone’s concern. I appreciate their help, but recovering is something I have to do myself.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Someone is trying to kill me, and I don’t want anyone I love getting hurt because of it. That was the reason he’d tried to keep his family at a distance since he’d arrived in Lynchburg. It was the only way he could keep them safe. But knowing Grayson, Jude was sure that bringing up that argument would only make his stubborn, overprotective brother more determined to help.

“Never mind. We’ve had this conversation before, too,” Grayson growled, and Jude could picture his brother pacing the floor of his house, scowling.

“Look, Grayson—”

“You look, Jude. You pretty much cut the family out of your life for years because you wanted to prove you could go it alone. You proved it, but you also put a distance between us that I don’t like and never wanted. I’d hoped that having you close by would give us a chance to be friends again.”

“We’ve always been friends.”

“Friends are people you let into your life. That’s not something you’ve done with anyone in the family for a long time.” Grayson spoke without heat, but the words were a direct blow to the heart, and Jude stalked outside, away from Lacey’s curious gaze. Cold pavement numbed the soles of his feet. Too bad it wasn’t cold enough to do the same to the insistent ache in his legs or the throbbing guilt in his stomach. He wanted his family far away when the killer struck again, but he didn’t want to hurt them anymore than he already had. “If that’s the way everyone feels, I owe you all an apology.”

“What you owe us is a promise that you’ll take care of yourself. We love you, Jude. And we’re worried.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.”

“I think I’ve heard that a hundred times these past few weeks. I haven’t believed it once.” Gray sighed, and Jude’s guilt multiplied. He’d moved to New York to sever the bonds that had held him so tightly to his family. He’d needed space, time to be himself, a place where he could live life without his parents and siblings watching him. Judging him. He’d found it, but he’d lost something in the process. He hadn’t realized just how much until he’d come to Lynchburg and been enfolded in his family’s embrace once again. It made it hurt all the more to have to keep them at a distance.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Gray.”

“Yeah. I do. I’m your older brother. It’s my job.”

“So worry, but let me take care of myself.”

“How about we talk about this when the sun is up?” Typical Grayson. Changing the subject rather than conceding. At the moment, Jude had too many other things to worry about. He’d set boundaries for his brother after he figured out who was trying to kill him.

“Fine. Name your time.”

“Sunday after church. Honor and I have some news. That will be as good a time as any to share it. How about we come over your place?”