Inseparable

Inseparable

NEW YORK TIMES AND USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Brenda Jackson

To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.

My one and only. Always.

To everyone who enjoys reading about

those Madarises, this one is especially for you.

To the 1971 Class of William M. Raines High School,

Jacksonville, Florida, on our 40th year class reunion.

And to all Raines Vikings everywhere. Ichiban!

Dear Reader,

I never imagined when penning my first Madaris book that I would still be going strong sixteen years later.

The Madaris family is special, not just because it was my first family series, but because over the years you’ve made them your family. The Madaris men have become your heroes because they represent those qualities you desire in a man—someone whose looks take your breath away, and who has the ability to make you appreciate the fact that you are a woman.

In Inseparable, Luke’s brother Reese takes center stage as a man who believes he has a best friend for life in LaKenna James. But things begin to heat up when she temporarily moves in with him while her condo is being completed. But Reese is a Madaris man through-and-through. And like all Madaris men, once he finds a woman he truly desires, he can’t seem to walk away. But is Kenna the one woman who can claim his heart and soul? And for Kenna, an even bigger question looms…can a hot and heavy attraction ruin a great friendship?

I hope you enjoy reading Inseparable, the seventeenth book in the Madaris Family and Friends series.

All the best,

Brenda Jackson

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:

but a broken spirit drieth the bones.

—Proverbs 17:22

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

Prologue

His eyes quickly moved from his plate of food to the flat screen as he followed the closed-captioning scrolling across the bottom of the television. He used the remote to raise the volume to hear the details of the breaking news story. As the anxious reporter stood in front of an abandoned warehouse, he listened with great interest.

“This is the sixth woman in a year’s time who has been murdered in the Twin Cities area in what police believe may be the work of a serial killer. The latest victim was raped and then brutally tortured before being killed in the same manner as the other women. Each body has been found with one shoe missing.” The reporter’s face looked grim, shrouded in disgust and shock. “The killer, who has been dubbed the ‘Shoe Killer’ by police, is still at large and has been linked to similar murders in other states,” the reporter continued. “So far there have been no leads. And police admit they aren’t any closer to arresting a suspect, but they vow to bring whoever is responsible to justice. Personally, I hope so—and soon. Just knowing he’s out there somewhere means that no woman in the Minneapolis–St. Paul area is safe.”

He shook his head at the newscaster and chuckled softly, amused by the reporter’s last line, about no woman being safe. The observation was certainly an understatement.

The Minneapolis police were smart, but he was smarter, which was why he had eluded them for over a year. But then he hated taking chances. And he knew it was just a matter of time before he made a mistake, played a bad hand…like he’d almost done last night.

His tongue flicked across his lower lip as he remembered what had happened. Hell, she hadn’t fought hard enough. Eyes that should have shown fear revealed nothing. When he’d finished, he had stared into her dark eyes and for a second had thought of sparing her life. But then the mere idea of such a thing brought out the beast in him. In the end, her death had been more brutal than the others because she had almost made him break his one steadfast rule: no survivors.

He drew in a deep breath as he pushed away from the table and stood up. He glanced around the house he’d called home for the past two years. It was as neat as a pin, which suited him perfectly. At times it provided emotional warmth, something that he hadn’t been able to understand. It was only during those times when the house seemed dreary and cold that he’d known it was time to kill. But now it was time to move on. Another city. Another state. Another woman.

He smiled at the thought. He would be patient, blend in and gain the trust of those he met. Then when they least expected it, he would become who he really was.

Shaking his head, he turned off the television and walked across the room to a cardboard box and lifted the lid. Shoes—more than a dozen of them in all shapes, styles and sizes. Each one was a souvenir—not from a sexual conquest but rather from a kill. In his mind, one complemented the other. And both were just as important.

He sighed and glanced out the window. It was time for him to move on.

Chapter 1

Blade and Samari’s wedding reception, New York City…

“What’s this I hear about you and Kenna moving in together?”

Reese Madaris tightened his hold on the wineglass and met the intense gaze of the older woman staring back at him. She was his great-grandmother, Felicia Laverne Madaris—the first, since she’d had the honor of having a granddaughter named after her.

The elderly woman stood as straight as she could for someone in her nineties. She was quick to tell anyone that her cane was strictly for appearances’ sake and not because she ever used it, although most people knew better.

You would think that since it was his cousin Blade’s wedding day—an event his great-grandmother had worried might never happen given Blade’s reputation as one of Houston’s most notorious bachelors—she’d be happy. Reese couldn’t help thinking, Why isn’t she in the middle of the ballroom floor doing a happy dance? Instead, she was harassing him about his best friend, LaKenna James.

He knew his great-grandmother wouldn’t give up until she’d gotten an answer. “Yes, Kenna’s moving in with me for a while,” he said. “She found out that her condo won’t be finished for another month after she’d already packed up her stuff to leave Austin.”

A smile touched his great-grandmother’s lips. “That was nice of you to offer her a place to stay.”

He shrugged. “I’d do anything for Kenna. You know that.”

Felicia Laverne Madaris nodded. “Yes, I know. The two of you have a special friendship. I just hope it will survive the coming months.”

He lifted a brow. “The coming months?”

“Yes. Since Blade is no longer Houston’s most eligible bachelor, you are,” she said.

“Which means?”

“You’re a Madaris. And although you work for a living, most people know you don’t have to. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re pretty wealthy. And thanks to your uncle Jake, you all are.”

Reese took a sip of wine and acknowledged that what his great-grandmother had said was true. Thanks to his uncle Jake Madaris who was one of the area’s most prosperous ranchers and a savvy businessman and investor, Reese, along with the rest of the Madaris clan, was extremely wealthy. If Reese never worked another day in his life, he would still be able to live comfortably. But the bottom line was he did work for a living and he enjoyed it.

“I still don’t follow you, Mama Laverne. What does my being a bachelor with money have to do with anything?” he asked.

His great-grandmother shook her head. “Blade has been the most eligible single Madaris man for so long that now you and your cousins have to assume the obvious.”

“Which is?”

“Women will turn their sights toward another Madaris—you, Lee, Nolan and Corbin, but especially you.”

He lifted a brow. “Why especially me?”

“Because you’re the oldest Madaris bachelor, even if it is by just a few months. And because you’re a loner, you date whenever it pleases you and not according to anyone else’s timetable. They’ll see you as a challenge—not only in pursuing you, but as the ultimate catch in marriage.”

A scowl quickly appeared on Reese’s face. His great-grandmother was right about him in that he only dated when it pleased him. He was more than comfortable being serially monogamous—dating one woman at a time. He didn’t want any woman in his pocket and didn’t intend to be in any woman’s pocket either. In other words, he liked being in control. Unlike Blade and his older cousin Clayton, who had both enjoyed having plenty of lovers before they’d finally settled down, he was never interested in getting involved with a bunch of women just for the sake of doing so.

He had a habit of being up-front with any woman he dated. He much preferred relationships to one-night stands and casual affairs. However, the length of time the relationship lasted depended on how well he and his partner connected.

He had dated Alyson Richards for close to a year before she began showing signs of jealousy toward Kenna. That was the one thing he did not tolerate from any woman—Kenna would always be in his life. Whoever came between them was wasting their time, he thought.

He glanced across the room to where Kenna was dancing with his uncle Jake. She was his best friend and had been since college, and he refused to put up with any woman who had a problem with that. He refused to be a trophy for any woman who pursued him just for the thrill of it or for the Madaris status—that wasn’t going to happen.

“Just thought I’d warn you,” said his great-grandmother, her voice interrupting his thoughts. “You also need to consider how being the most eligible bachelor in Houston is going to affect Kenna.”

His gaze moved from his uncle Jake and Kenna back to Mama Laverne. “Affect Kenna in what way?”

“Kenna being your best friend is one thing. But now that she’ll be living under your roof for a while, it will cause a stir. She’ll become the envy of every single woman in town.”

Reese couldn’t help but laugh. “Really, Mama Laverne, I doubt women will start coming out of the woodwork. Besides Kenna’s and my relationship is strictly platonic. You and the family know that, and frankly it’s nobody else’s business.”

“That might be the case, but I can see some women trying to drive a wedge between you and Kenna.”

Reese shook his head, thinking their friendship was too rock solid for that to happen. “Thanks for the warning, but don’t worry. Kenna is the closest friend I have and she always will be.”

“Yes, and that’s a good thing as much for Kenna as it is for you,” his great-grandmother added.

He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t resist. “And why is that?”

Resting both hands on top of her cane, she responded, “Because Kenna is a nice-looking girl who will be new in town. There will be plenty of men vying for her attention. There will probably be just as many men checking her out as there will be women knocking at your door.”

She paused a second, glanced around and said, “Well, I might as well mosey on over and chat with May Lois to see what she’s been up to.”

Reese pondered his great-grandmother’s words. After all, Felicia Laverne was the matriarch of the Madaris family. She had outlived her husband, whom she readily admitted to being deeply in love with. She had raised seven sons and buried only one of them. She was close to her sons, and their wives, her grands and great-grands. She was a good mother—the best.

But she had one major flaw. She had a tendency to stick her nose where it didn’t belong when it came to family. She knew it. They knew it. But she had a heart of gold that couldn’t be traded for anything in the world. Since it was her only flaw, the family figured they’d overlook it.

After the song had ended, Reese glanced across the room and found Kenna again. She was back on the dance floor, this time with his brother Luke.

For some reason his great-grandmother’s comment about Kenna being hotly pursued once she moved to Houston seemed to annoy him. Over the years she’d had a number of steady boyfriends, a few hits and a few misses. Some he’d liked and some he hadn’t liked. But he knew for a fact that she hadn’t been head over heels in love with any of them. She’d guarded her heart after her college boyfriend Terrence Fairchild had played around on her with another girl on campus. At the time Reese had been involved with someone else, but that hadn’t stopped him from providing Kenna with the shoulder she needed to cry on.

Although she’d dated steadily after that, it was years before Kenna got involved in a serious relationship again. That guy was Lamont Cotton, whom Reese hadn’t much cared for. She and Lamont had been involved for eight months before they’d gone their separate ways. Then she began dating again, but didn’t get serious with anyone until Curtis Purcell. She’d mentioned last month that she and Purcell had split, but she hadn’t said why.

Personally, he didn’t need to know the details. What he did know was that another man she’d gotten involved with had broken her heart yet again. Over the years his protective instincts for Kenna had grown stronger. In a way, that was what had made them closer, and made their relationship seem what some considered more than friendly. For Reese and Kenna, it was normal. It was the way things were naturally supposed to be.

The very first time he had brought her home from college one weekend to introduce her to his family and explained to them that she was his best friend and nothing more, they had accepted her as such. But every once in a while someone would try to insinuate that there was more between them. It had gotten to the point where he let them assume whatever they wanted to.

He took another sip of cabernet. For some reason he couldn’t stop staring at Kenna as she moved around the dance floor. He tried to see her as other men did. Not as his best friend, but as a woman—and if his great-grandmother’s predictions were true—who would attract dozens of men once she moved to Houston.

Her short, medium-brown curly hair was stylishly cut and framed an attractive, warm-brown face. No doubt men would be mesmerized by her soft brown eyes, her full lips, creamy, flawless, chocolate-brown skin and the soft curves of her body. Although most women assumed a tall, slender frame was the only body type that could catch a man’s eye. Reese knew that men were strongly attracted to a full-figured, voluptuous woman like Kenna, who was stacked in the most delectable ways. There was no doubt in his mind that any man would think she was beautiful.

Just like there was no doubt they would lust after her, he thought as he took another sip of red wine. Even Reese had to admit to lusting after her himself, once—the first time they’d met when she had shown up at his dorm room one day. He had been twenty and in his junior year at Morehouse and she was eighteen and a sophomore at Spelman. She was whip-smart and an ace in physics. She had been recommended as a tutor, and that had been the start of their friendship. That was eleven years ago.

“Any reason you’re standing over here staring across the room watching Kenna dance with Luke?”

Reese blinked before looking around to meet his cousin Nolan’s eyes. He, Nolan and another cousin, Lee, had all been born the same year. Nolan’s brother Corbin trailed them by ten months. “I wasn’t aware I was staring.”

The corners of Nolan’s lips lifted into a smile. “You were. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

He glanced back toward the dance floor to see that his brother Luke had been replaced by his cousin Corbin as Kenna’s dance partner. “No, there’s nothing wrong.”

“Well, if you’re waiting to claim a dance with Kenna you’ll have a long wait on your hands. We’re all waiting our turn,” his cousin said, grabbing a champagne flute off a passing waiter’s tray.

He couldn’t help but smile at that. Kenna liked to dance and his brothers and cousins enjoyed the challenge of keeping up with her on the dance floor. “No problem.”

He polished off his cabernet, thinking it really wasn’t a problem. She was enjoying herself. From across the room he saw the huge smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes. His Kenna. His best friend. She glanced in his direction, met his gaze and smiled.

He smiled back before looking over at Nolan to find his cousin staring at him strangely. “What?”

Nolan chuckled. “Nothing.”

He tensed at his cousin’s one-word response, wondering what was going on in Nolan’s mind. He eyed him suspiciously before saying, “I’m going to dance with Kenna.”

“Sorry, pal, you’ll have to wait your turn” was Nolan’s reply, before he began drinking his champagne.

Reese chuckled and said over his shoulder as he walked toward the dance floor to cut in on Corbin, “No, I don’t, since I have an inside connection.”

“Darn, Kenna, I can barely keep up with you. Are you sure you haven’t taken more dancing lessons since the last time?” said Corbin.

Kenna couldn’t help but smile. Besides painting, dancing was her favorite hobby. Growing up, she had envied the girls who had been able to take dance lessons, something her grandmother hadn’t been able to afford. She’d made a promise to herself that once she finished college and had a job, she would take dance classes. And she did.

She enjoyed everything from ballroom to Latin to hip-hop. She did it all, including belly dancing and tap, which wasn’t an easy feat for a full-figured woman. She blamed it all on her hips, which wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she danced or worked out. She’d gotten used to them and accepted her curvy figure as something she’d have to live with.

“Come on, Corbin, it’s not like you to whine.” She laughed. “The music just started, so don’t conk out on me now. It’s just the tango.” They snapped their heads around in perfect sync and stared at each other with feigned smoldering passion.

“Just the tango?” he said, as their heads swiveled back and forth in tandem. Corbin’s thick, neatly coiled dreadlocks went flying over his shoulders. “Look around. We’re the only ones left on the floor now. All eyes are on us.”

He quickly glanced over Kenna’s shoulder as he twirled her around. “I think Reese is coming to cut in. Of course he wants to be the center of attention.”

Kenna threw her head back and laughed as Corbin dipped her body low to the floor. Anyone who knew Reese knew that the last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention, of anything. No doubt he was coming to sweep her off the dance floor since he probably thought that the long slit on the side of her gown revealed too much leg—one of the dangers of dancing the tango.

Reese could be a little overprotective at times. But she could deal with it. He had been her best friend for as long as she could remember, and she loved him like a brother. She quickly repressed the thought, which she knew was a lie. She did love him, had always loved him, and not as a brother. He was the man she would never have, and as her best friend he’d always looked out for her. She no longer fantasized about “what might have been,” but accepted the role he played in her life now—the part he would always play.

She picked up his masculine scent long before he reached her. He tapped Corbin on the shoulder and took over as her dance partner. She couldn’t help but smile at him. Like always, he dreamily smiled back.

Reese had no idea that whenever he smiled at Kenna—even though they were just friends—he had a way of making her feel beautiful and special. Even though their relationship was far from intimate, she knew him better than anyone. She knew his likes, dislikes, his innermost secrets. She knew when things were bothering him without having to ask. She could feel him. She could decipher his mood, and could even pick him out of a crowded room. It was like she had radar, a sixth sense, where Reese was concerned. They were simpatico.

Without saying a word, they danced the tango like contestants on Dancing With the Stars. When she had needed a partner for her ballroom dance classes a few years ago, he had obliged, but after much complaining. There was never any doubt that they were great dancing together, but they also looked incredibly good together.

The tango ended and the band began playing a swing dance number. The swing dance was another favorite of hers. And as she and Reese stood facing each other, hand in hand, moving their feet in rhythm to the beat, they couldn’t help but laugh. Reese was the only man who could keep up with her on the dance floor and do it with such style.

As they danced, she couldn’t stop her eyes from roaming over his body from head to toe. He was handsome in his tuxedo, but then he looked handsome in everything. He was one of the hottest men she’d ever laid eyes on, and in a room filled with good-looking Madaris men that said a lot.

Reese was tall, almost six foot three. And as far as Kenna was concerned, he was the epitome of masculinity at its finest. His deep, rich copper skin tone only deepened the most gorgeous pair of brown, bedroom eyes any man could possess. Then there were his dimples and his generous lips that beckoned women to want to lick them for days.

She swallowed hard, suppressing such thoughts, and reminded herself that although she secretly loved him, their relationship was based on friendship, nothing more. But that didn’t stop her from appreciating him as a man—and seeing him through the eyes of a woman sexually attracted to a man—every once in a while.

The swing dance ended and the band began to play a slow song. Kenna turned to leave the dance floor when Reese tightened his hold on her hand and pulled her closer to him. She went willingly.

When he wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer to his muscular frame, she put her head on his chest and closed her eyes. It wasn’t the first time they’d slow-danced together, but it was so rare that she relished the times they did.

After three dances with Reese she wondered why no one had cut in. She tilted her head away from his chest and took in the curious looks that were focused on them across the ballroom. Although she and Reese weren’t the only ones on the dance floor, his family standing on the sidelines of the ballroom had their eyes glued to them. Why?

She tilted her head upward and met Reese’s gaze. “Is something going on that I should know about?” she asked softly.

He smiled at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Everyone is staring at us.”

He glanced around the room and returned his gaze to hers. “They always stare at us when we dance together.”

“Yes, but this time it’s different.”

He shrugged. “You know how my great-grandmother is. She heard you’re moving in with me and has probably gotten everyone thinking that there’s more than friendship between us.”

“But why would she say something like that? Everyone knows we’re nothing more than friends,” Kenna said.