Renegade: A Taggart Brothers Novel by Lisa Bingham Read Free Book Online Page B

her response. All it would take was her signature on the legal documents inside. In the swipe of a pen, she could officially dissolve her marriage and relegate a relationship that had lasted half her adult life to the dustbin.
    But she couldn’t think about that now. Not when her heart was as battered and bruised as her face. Much as she wanted to move on, to find a new purpose, to dig herself out of this morass of misery, she was stuck in an unfamiliar limbo. She knew she couldn’t—
shouldn’t
—go back, but she also didn’t know how to go on.
    Which was why, in the end, she refused to make any decision at all. She simply flipped off the light and crawled into the high tester bed next to Lily, praying that the gods of sleep would be kind to her tonight.
    *   *   *
    THE Big House was dark and quiet when Jace let himself into the kitchen, closing the door behind him with a muffled
snick
.
    Alone.
    He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d had the place to himself. Sometimes, he felt as if his life had become a tag team relay race. As soon as Barry had gone to Elam’s or an activity, Bodey would need his help, or a hired man would need instructions, or a horse would turn up lame, or a cow would escape from a fence. It was as if the universe plotted against him, offering him barely enough time to think, let alone relax.
    But now that he had a chance to do whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted . . .
    He had no idea what he really wanted to do.
    Out of habit, he opened the refrigerator door and stared inside. But there was nothing there that tempted him. The contents were a weird combination of bachelor fridge meets preschool with a selection of beers, half-empty condiments, juice boxes, an economy bag of carrots, and enough ranch dressing to drown a small horse. Jace could get Barry to eat just about anything as long as there was a puddle of ranch sauce on the side. True, sometimes there was more sauce than real food that went into his stomach, but Barry went through weird eating cycles—like this month’s carrot fetish—where he would eat nothing but one specific item. So if Jace had to get creative to make sure his brother got some semblance of a balanced diet, he was willing to do it.
    But tonight, nothing looked tempting enough to expend the energy to fix it.
    Restless, Jace shut the door and threw his hat on the table. He supposed he could head to Vern’s and get some dinner—maybe find some adult company. But even as the thought appeared, he dismissed it. Since Bodey had apparently hooked up with a new woman, he had the whole house to himself. All alone. Wasn’t that what he’d been saying he needed?
    Disgusted at his mood, Jace headed upstairs, intent on showering and changing into a pair of sweats. But even as he padded toward the master suite at the end of the hall, his steps slowed, and without thought, he veered toward the attic steps.
    The flight of stairs was steep and narrow and covered with a fine layer of dust. Jace hired a local woman to come clean the house once a week, but there was no need for her to go up there. He supposed he should tell her to sweep off the treads, but this way . . .
    He would know if anyone had been up here, prying into the person he’d once been.
    Once at the top, Jace stopped, his hand closing around the knob to the upper door. There he paused, knowing full well that to open it would be the equivalent of poking a nearly healed wound with a pointed stick. He’d be better off heading to his study to get some book work done.
    But even as he told himself to walk away, his fingers tightened around the worn brass.
    Slam. Thump, thump, thump.
    “Jace! Where are you?
Jace!”
    Jace released the latch as if it had caught on fire. Hurrying down the steps, he’d barely managed to reach the hall when Barry barreled toward him, all gangly arms and legs, his brow furrowed with intent. He held a brown paper sack in his hands, which he thrust toward Jace.
    “P.D.