The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(64)

“Spike does live here, but he’s at work,” she said. Then that pale gaze narrowed. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Madeline, would it?”

“Ah…yes, it is.”

“Have you come to make nice?”

Mad just about fainted. “I, ah…yes, I’ve come to apologize. Yes.”

The chain was dropped and the door opened all the way. A small hand was extended. “I’m Jaynie. His sister.”

Still feeling a little light-headed, Mad shook the palm that was offered, amazed that this slight, quiet woman was Spike’s sister. The two had absolutely nothing in common. Not the yellow eyes or the jet-black hair or the size. Not the charisma, either, it would seem.

Mad snapped herself into focus, aware that the woman was waiting for her to speak. “Madeline Maguire. I’m pleased to met you.”

Jaynie nodded and they dropped hands. “Listen, he’s not going to be home for a while. Where are you staying in town?”

“I’m…not.” Boy, she hadn’t thought this through, had she? She’d only been thinking about getting to him, not what would happen after she was finished talking to him. Where the hell was she going to spend the night?

“Do you live not far from here?” Jaynie asked.

“Actually, I drove up from Manhattan. When does he get home?”

“Sometimes not until after midnight.”

“Oh. I, ah…I have to talk to him.” Maybe she could sleep in the car for a while and come back. It was ten now—

“Would you like to wait for him here?”

Yes, Mad thought. For however long it took. At least she’d be guaranteed a chance to see him this way.

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.” Mad walked through the door and looked around the apartment. Walls were linen white, moldings were varnished wood, there were windows everywhere. Not a lot of furniture and no pictures or paintings, but the place didn’t feel stark somehow.

And then she saw it. Over in the corner, Spike’s leather jacket was hanging off the back of a chair and she wanted to hug the thing. Smell it. Get close. God knew the leather was almost as soft as his skin in some places.

Jaynie shut the door, locking and chaining it as if she were in a big city. “I was about to have something to eat. Have you had dinner? I know it’s late…”

“Oh, that’s kind, but you don’t have to feed me, too.”

“There’s plenty to go around. Honestly. Spike hates to cook at home, so I feed him when he lets me.”

“Well…then that would be terrific. I haven’t eaten since lunch.” Mad followed the woman into a kitchen with a table and two chairs. The smell from the oven was fantastic…onions, spices…“What is that?”

“Just meat loaf.” Jaynie took a pan out of the oven. “And I boiled up some corn.”

Ten minutes later, the two of them were eating together. And Mad had figured out how Spike and Jaynie were alike. They both had that essential separation from the world, as if there were a glass wall between them and everyone else, one that they looked through, but never walked around. As if they had something they kept to themselves.

“How did you know my name?” Mad asked eventually.

Jaynie cleaved a piece of butter off the stick she’d put on a little saucer. As she ran the pat up and down her ear of sweet corn, she seemed to be carefully considering her words.

“He’s missed you. He calls out your name at night.”

Mad closed her eyes. The idea that he might have been hurt because of her, made her feel so much worse. “I made a mistake. I made a terrible mistake.”

“Yes, you did. I don’t know any of the details, but I’ll tell you this, my brother is totally trustworthy. And he’s willing to do anything for those he loves. Trust me, he gave up years of his life for mine.”

“Years?”

Jaynie put her knife down, lifted her corn up, then paused. “My brother has something he may choose to tell you. If he does, try and hear it with an open mind. He deserves at least that from you. He deserves…so much more than he’s gotten out of life.”

“What is it?” Mad breathed.

“Not for me to say. Just know that he saved my life and not metaphorically. Without him, you and I wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying this corn. Butter?”

The woman picked up the saucer and held it out.

In a daze, Mad took some of what was offered. “Thank…you.”

*

Spike didn’t leave White Caps until he was thrown out by Nate at midnight.

The office was spotless as he left and at least the paper pushing had passed the hours. He couldn’t say he felt much better, but at least the accounts receivable and the accounts payable were both up to date now.

Even though his wrist was aching, he took the long way home on the Harley, going up into the mountains. The country roads were a God send, working their magic, stripping him for a while of everything that was jammed up in his mind. With nothing but himself and Bette’s single headlight traversing the twisting paths through the bumps and peaks of the Adirondacks, he found a little calm and treasured it because he knew it wasn’t going to last.

When he came back down, he approached his place from the back side, going right into the lot behind the Victorian.