ABANDON ALL HOPE: The Hope Brother Series (Book Two) (14 page)

“Sir, I think maybe you’ve had enough,” Jimmy’s voice broke through our drunken conversation.

Lincoln looked at him, his eyes squinting into small little slits, a tiny bit of drool forming at the corner of his lip.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“That’s it,” Jimmy said, grabbing the almost empty bottle and putting it back behind the bar.  “Time for you to leave.”

“Jimmy…” I began.

“You too, Ruby.  Out.  You need me to call you a cab?”

“Maybe.  I could leave my car…” my voice trailed off as I looked over at Lincoln.  He threw a wad of cash on the bar, grabbed my hand, and pulled me off my bar stool.

“You’re coming with me,” he said.  “And fuck you!” he said to Jimmy again.  I shook my head, mouthed a silent apology to Jimmy, and stumbled out the front door and into the darkness of the hot Texas night with Lincoln.

I hadn’t seen him pull up, but when I saw he was leading us over to his Mercedes, instead of his limo with his driver, I knew right away I needed to stop him.

“Get in,” he slurred.

“Lincoln, maybe you shouldn’t drive?”

“I’m fucking fine!  I’ve drunk a lot more whiskey than that in my life!” He opened my door, and then walked around and slid behind the wheel.  I hesitated getting in. But I couldn’t live with myself if I let him go off alone and something happened to him.

“How about you let me drive?” I asked.  I knew I shouldn’t be driving either, but he had consumed three times as much as I had.  “I’ve always wanted to drive a car like this.”

“Fine,” he said, throwing me the keys and getting back out of the car.  I sighed with relief, opened my door and  stepped out of the car.  We met at the front of the car, and Lincoln grabbed my arms, and stared deeply in my eyes.   They flashed with anger, before he pressed his lips to mine roughly.  I twisted away from him, trying to free myself from his grip.

“I’m going to destroy Crit Hope,” he snarled.  “Let’s go.”

I was getting a little tired of hearing about it at this point, and still confused how everything fit together, but my main focus was getting him in the car and somewhere safe.

How I ended up as the one person responsible for this drunken man was not something I was thinking about at the time.

“Where are you staying?” I asked as we got back in the car.

“At the Four Seasons,” he slurred.

“In Houston?” I asked.

“Yep.  It’s a fucking dump, though,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“That’s a half hour drive away,” I replied, despairingly.

“You said you wanted to drive,” he replied.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”  I put the car in reverse, and hit the gas.  The car lurched backwards suddenly, sending my heart right into my throat.  I shook my head, did my best to clear the cobwebs of whiskey from my brain, and took a deep breath before putting it in drive and heading out towards the highway.

It drove like a dream.  I wondered how much it cost as we flew down the highway towards the city, the butter soft leather of the seats caressing my bare thighs seductively.  Lincoln seemed to have fallen asleep, and I was grateful for the short reprieve from his drunken ranting.

I couldn’t wait to call Crit and hear his side of the story.  Something about the way Lincoln had told it left a lot to be desired.  I was sure there was some details left out, something to explain why in the world Crit had felt the need to pummel the man who owned his farm.  A sharp pang of sadness pierced my heart when I thought about how Crit must be feeling right now.

And I had ignored his repeated calls, too.  I felt terrible, and yet, my head was telling me that none of this was my fault.  My heart wasn’t so convinced.

The lights of the city flickered in the distance.  I sighed heavily, trying to shake off all the pain and worry.

I felt like I was in a movie.  Ruby Rae Rust was flying down the highway in an expensive Mercedes on the way to the Four Seasons Hotel.  How did I end up here?  I glanced over at a sleeping, sloppily drunk Lincoln, and my heart sank.

The truth was, I couldn’t stand him.  I didn’t really care about his money, his car, his fancy clothes, his plane, or his good looks. None of that mattered to me.  And the violent anger that had come to the surface after a few drinks and a bloody lip had turned Lincoln into a whole different man than the seductive, smooth talking gentleman I had met at first.

But that’s how booze worked, wasn’t it?  It was a like a truth serum in a way - melting away the layers of armor and deception that we wore daily, exposing the true nature of a man like Lincoln.

When Crit got drunk, he just got sweeter.

I sighed again, my heart sinking as I realized that even if he wasn't good for me, even if he had a way of driving me absolutely crazy, even if he wanted to keep me locked away in his proverbial closet - I still loved him.

Crit Hope was the love of my life and there was no denying it.

By the time I pulled up to the front of the Four Seasons, I had figured out exactly what I needed to do.  Lincoln was still asleep in the front seat, and after giving the keys to the valet, I woke him up.

“Hey, Lincoln, wake up!”  He barely stirred.

“Do you need help miss?” the valet asked.

“Yes, could you help me get him to his room, please?”  I asked.

“Of course, miss,” he replied.  I moved out of the way as he and another valet easily pulled Lincoln out of the car, and carried him into the hotel.

I was about to follow them, when it dawned on me that my job was done.  I grabbed my purse out of the car and jumped in the next available taxi cab.

“Where are you headed, miss?” the driver asked.

“Sugar Hill, please.”

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

 “Sounds like you’ve got quite a problem on your hands, son,” Hank Haggard said, as he patted my shoulder with his large, meaty hand.  I could almost feel the callouses through my t-shirt.  Hank had worked  on his farm every day of his life, and he had the hands and body to prove it.  

He had listened intently for the last fifteen minutes as I told him everything.  I had left out the real reason I had fought with LaCroix, figuring the reason didn’t matter as much as the outcome.  I didn’t want to get Ruby any more involved than she already was, and hell, considering she hadn’t answered my calls in almost twenty-four hours, I wasn’t even sure she would ever speak to me again.

I tried my best to focus on the matter at hand, though.  I was banking on the hope that Ruby would understand everything once she knew all the facts, and that somehow she would forgive me for being such an asshole all the time.  I was just under so much pressure, and unfortunately, she was the one that seemed to be around when the pressure got to be too much.

I swore to myself that I would spend the rest of our lives making it all up to her.

“I wish I had the cash to give you, Crit, but as you know, times are tough right now.”

“Did my father tell you about the loan?”

“He didn’t.  I wish he had come to me.  But he could never have predicted things would turn out like this, son.  Don’t blame your father.  He was doing what was necessary to keep food on the table.”

“I don’t blame him. I just wish he was here to tell me how to handle it.”

“Well, the best thing to do is to keep your head, Crit.  You’re under a lot of pressure, and it ain’t going to do you any good to go toe to toe with this guy.  He’s a businessman, and we have to come at this like it’s business.  I know it’s personal, but you have to put your feelings aside.”

“Yeah, well you haven’t met him yet,” I grumbled.

Johnson laughed from across his desk.  Hank and I had met in his office, hoping to put our heads together to come up with a solution.

“That’s true.  He’s hard to like,” Johnson said.  “Arrogant.  Egotistical.  Rude.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea.  I have a friend up in New York, back from my military days.  He’s a hot shot lawyer on Wall Street these days.  Keeps the crooks out of jail, he says.  Not the most honorable career, I’ll admit, but he’s good at it, I guess.  I’ll see if he knows this LaCroix fella, see if he can dig around and find something we can use.”

“That’s a start,” I replied.  I had abandoned all hope at this point, to be honest. I didn’t want to come right out and ask Hank for the money, and I didn’t have to.  He just flat out didn’t have it, just like me.  I had stayed up all night, my head filled with images of packing up the farmhouse, filling up my truck with all our belongings, and finding somewhere else to board the horses.  I had no idea where we were all going to go.

It was too much.  It was only two o’clock and I was craving the taste and numbing effects of the whiskey I had been leaning on so heavily over the last few days.

“Thanks, Hank,” I said, standing up and putting my Stetson back on.  “I better be going.  I’ve got a lot to do today at the farm.”

“Sure thing, son.  You holler if you need help around the farm.  We’re here for you, son.”  Hank shook my hand, and I avoided his eyes, knowing what I would see there.

Pity. And that was the last thing I could face.

My boots carried me down the hall and out of Johnson’s place.  When I got in my truck, I put on my sunglasses, pulled my hat down low, and went about the business of pushing all the overwhelming fear and sadness as deep into my soul as I could.

I put the truck in gear and headed to Evan’s bar.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

 Eva and I sat in a booth at Quattro, the restaurant at the Four Seasons hotel in Houston.  She had insisted that this was the place to carry out the dates she was booking for me.  The first one was scheduled for tomorrow night with Dixie.

Eva had booked the room for two days, and she told her husband she was having a girl’s night in the city, so here we were, enjoying the hotel together before it all went down.  We had just checked in a few hours ago, and after working up an appetite by fucking like rabbits in the suite, I had insisted on having lunch before continuing.  Sex with Eva had a way of leaving me starved.

The restaurant was expensive and lavishly decorated.  I was a little uncomfortable with all this upscale fancy bullshit, but I was good at not giving a shit what people thought about me, and that attitude seemed to work in this place.  My aloofness was mistaken for wealth, apparently.  Wealth was never something I was comfortable with, but Eva seemed to have other ideas for my future.

She was convinced we were going to make a fortune together.  I still wasn’t so sure, but I was willing to give anything a try.