Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(49)

Had someone taken further steps to protect her? Or was there something else in the works?

Whatever was happening, it wouldn’t hurt for him to keep her away for a bit. He checked the rearview mirror again, but still didn’t see anyone.

Given how Brand felt about Becky, the visit with her would be brief, so he decided on a detour. It was only five, but keeping Sahara busy until bedtime would probably be a good thing. “Do you have to be back right away?”

“No. I can be free for the rest of the evening.” She traced a fingernail up his forearm to his biceps. “What did you have in mind?”

Brand laughed. “Not that.” At her fallen expression, he added, “At least until later. For now, I thought I’d squeeze in another visit.” For vague reasons that he didn’t want to analyze, he’d like for his mom to meet Sahara, and vice versa. “What do you think?”

Leaning her head back against the seat, she gazed at him. “I’m at your mercy.”

He liked the sound of that. “Give me a sec.” He pressed the hands-free function on his steering wheel and dialed up his mom. When she answered, her voice was so gruff he knew he’d probably caught her napping.

“Brand, honey, how are you?”

Beside him, Sahara perked up.

“I’m good, Mom. I’ll be down your way to see Becky and thought I’d stop by for a visit first.”

“We’ll be here. I have a meat loaf in the oven, so bring your appetite.”

Sahara grinned.

“I’ll have a guest, Mom. That okay?”

After an expectant pause, she said, “Of course,” with a tinge of excitement. “Who is it?”

“Sahara Silver. You’re on speaker, so you can say hi if you want.”

Sahara sat forward in happy animation. “Hello, Mrs. Berry. How are you?”

Though the mistake was understandable, Brand corrected her. “She’s Mrs. Hodge.”

“Yes, sorry, Mrs. Hodge. I’m so excited to meet you.”

Another long pause, and then, with curiosity but no censure, she asked, “You told her?”

“She’s going with me to meet Becky, too,” Brand explained, as if that was why she knew.

Sahara sent him a look. “Actually, he told me a while ago.”

“He did? Hmm, that’s very...interesting.”

“Mom,” he warned. “Don’t make a big thing of it.”

“No, of course not.” Then sweetly, “Hello, Ms. Silver. Please, call me Ann.”

“If you’ll call me Sahara.”

“Such a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.”

“How do you and Brand know each other?”

“Some of his friends work for me at my security agency, Body Armor.”

Sahara didn’t mention that she hoped to have him work for her, too, and he appreciated that.

His mom didn’t know the demands her sister made of him, and he didn’t plan to tell her. If he did, she’d feel obligated to alleviate the burden, when it wasn’t hers to bear.

Raising her sister’s son had been more than enough.

He could still remember the day Becky had dropped him off on his aunt. He’d been five years old, already loved Aunt Ann and was excited to stay with her. Where his own mother was often absent, and grouchy when she was around, Aunt Ann showered him with attention and affection. He’d cherished the time with her.

But it was still a rude awakening as the days with her turned to weeks, and the weeks to months.

He was young, but not so dumb that he didn’t realize he’d been given away.

Once he asked Ann about it, everything changed. She stopped trying to shield him from the truth and instead embraced it, telling him that he was the greatest gift she and Uncle John had ever received. She’d said that from now on, he was hers and she’d never, ever let him go.

That was the day he started calling her “Mom.”

For the next half hour, the women chatted without his input, discussing everything from the weather and meat loaf, to life in the country versus cases at Body Armor.

Finally, his mom wound down enough to ask him “How long before you’re here, honey?”

“We’d just gotten on the road when I called. Maybe another half hour or so, depending on traffic.”

“I’ll go tell John. He has a new gun to show you, so I know he’ll be thrilled.”

Brand laughed. “Okay. See you soon.”

After they disconnected, Sahara said, “She’s charming.”

“I’ve always thought so.” Charming, caring, concerned and everything a mother should be.

“Who’s older? Ann or Becky?”

“Becky by two years.” His mother might have been the oldest, but Ann had always been the responsible one.

“What does she think about Becky being back in your life?”

That’s where it got tricky. Brand shrugged, trying to sort out the deceptions. “I haven’t told her the extent of it. She’s territorial where Becky is concerned, a feeling leftover from when I was a kid and Becky would occasionally threaten to come into my life. More than once Ann had to bail her out financially so she wouldn’t disrupt everything.”

“Ann told you about that?”