One Last Chance
Book 3 in the Oak Grove series
by
Nancy Stopper
Table of Contents
One Last Chance
Dear Readers
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
Dear Readers,
Finally! The story readers have been asking for since they first met Rachel in One Last Risk. Rachel has been struggling since she found a suspicious document in her parents attic a few years back. Add that to her own feelings being the youngest sibling and only girl in the loud, boisterous Bennett clan. She believed Shane’s promises of love and safety. But we all know how hollow promises can be! And what was so all-fire important about that piece of paper to drive her into the arms of an abusive boyfriend?
Sawyer’s had enough loss in his life that he can’t put himself out there again. But he can’t ignore the call when Rachel finally finds the strength to break away from the bastard she’s been with since Sawyer got home from Afghanistan. But that was it—get her out and be done with it. So why was he driving her to his house and settling her in his guest room?
As Rachel heals, can she draw Sawyer out from behind the walls he’s erected around his heart? She’s sure going to try. Don’t count her out. She finds strength she didn’t know she had to fight for what she wants—and what she wants is Sawyer.
Summer is almost over. The days are growing shorter and the leaves are starting to change. But is love in the air in Oak Grove? You’ll just have to turn the page to see.
Nancy
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Nancy Stopper
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Chapter One
“SHANE, NO—STOP!” Rachel darted behind the smallish kitchen table, her eyes never leaving her boyfriend. At least the barrier would give her some protection against his rage. Very little, though. This wasn’t the first time he’d chased her around the table, stretching his grubby hands across the top to grab her. Sometimes she got away. Sometimes she didn’t.
A glazed look filled his bloodshot eyes. Good… maybe he’d pass out soon. Five, maybe ten minutes. She just had to hold out until then.
She rubbed her throbbing cheek, the sting from his hand still fresh.
Shane lurched across the table and wrapped his thick fingers around her wrist. Even though her skin throbbed, she tried to yank her arm away. He just squeezed harder, pain radiating up her arm. She pulled and struggled, but she couldn’t free her hand from his vice-like grip.
“You bitch. Where’s my goddamned beer?”
“I didn’t do anything, I swear. You drank the last one this afternoon.” Please believe me. She’d convinced him before that he’d just forgotten, but the times that she hadn’t, he’d blown up. Each time worse than the previous one.
He raised his fist, keeping her wrist clamped in the other. The harsh smack of his palm burned her cheek. Her hand flew to her face. The table rocked and Shane pitched forward, still holding her. She stumbled and struggled to wrench away from him. Tears welled in her eyes but she wouldn’t let them fall. Tears just pissed him off.
Where was the loving Shane she’d met and started dating? When had he turned into this monster? And why did she stay with him?
She didn’t deserve any better—that was what she’d told herself when huddled under the blanket at night, feigning sleep so he wouldn’t reach for her. So she focused on trying to meet Shane’s definition of “good” and steer clear of him when he was in a mood.
But just being “good” wasn’t cutting it. Not anymore. She’d had enough. She deserved better, no matter what her mind tried to convince her. She had to get out before he killed her.
Her cell phone sat on the counter. If she could get over there, she could call one of her brothers or even 9-1-1. Only once before had she tried to call during one of Shane’s attacks. She hadn’t been able to reach Joey, and Shane had slapped the phone away before she could talk to someone at the bar. No one came. Not until the next day, after Shane had thrown her against the wall and sprained her wrist. What if no one came again? His attacks were getting worse.
His fiery gaze darted to her phone and his eyebrows rose. “No way, bitch. This is between us.”
Damn, he’d seen her. But she was determined to get to the phone. She darted around the table and dashed to the counter. Shane’s strong arms snaked around her waist. Almost there. She stretched for the phone. When her fingers brushed the cell, it went skidding to the floor. Shit. She lunged but couldn’t reach the one lifeline from a beating. Shane yanked her away, threw her against the couch, and followed her down. His fingers dug into her arms. His putrid breath turned her stomach, and she clenched her teeth so she wouldn’t vomit.
“Is this what you wanted?” He slammed his mouth down on hers. She clamped her lips shut. How could she ever have thought she loved this man? He kissed her again and she didn’t fight him. If she acted like she wanted to be with him, he’d release her and she could scramble to the phone. That was her only hope. Without moving her head, her eyes darted to where the phone had landed on the floor. Only a few steps away.
She let her body go limp and he released her. “That’s better. See? We’re good together, baby. Aren’t we?”
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, putting more force into her words. “We are.”
He kissed her again and she squeezed her eyes shut. A little bit longer and she might have an opening.
“Come on.” Shane stood and stomped toward the bedroom.
Finally. She crept closer to the phone. With his back turned, he couldn’t see when she bent to retrieve her cell. And he also didn’t notice when she flipped it open. She pressed 9-1-1.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Shane roared and rushed to her in two huge strides.
As she pressed Send, Shane smacked the phone from her hand, and it clattered to the floor. Please let the call go through. She couldn’t take much more of this.
He shoved his hand into her hair and twisted his fingers in the stringy strands hanging lifelessly down her back. She shuddered.
This was the final straw. As soon as she got free of his grip, she was leaving. Please, someone, please come help me.
Shane yanked her head back and hung his face right over hers.
She clawed at his hands. “You’re hurting me!”
“Who’d you call?” Spit flew out of his mouth and splattered on her face.
She cringed. Swiping at her face just pissed him off even more than the tears. “Nobody. I swear. I wanted to check the time.”
“Who cares about the f
ucking time? You got somewhere to go?”
Fire swirled in his eyes, his square jaw clenched, and her stomach dropped. She had no hope of getting away from him now. The asshole was just getting warmed up.
With his hand still wrapped in her hair, he dragged her toward the bedroom. She yelped and he tugged harder. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she couldn’t hold them back any longer. She’d hidden her feelings for months. What Shane wanted always mattered more. He came first. That’s what he always said. But she did matter. She did count. Her tears proved there was still something worth saving buried deep inside her.
She was taking back her life. This would be the last time she would ever let him beat her, to force her to do what he wanted. She may not have his muscles, but she could fight back.
She dug her heels into the carpet and grabbed the edge of the counter. No way would she let him drag her into the bedroom. He could screw a hole in the wall for all she cared.
He released her hair. Thank God. But her relief was short-lived. He pinched her arm and pried at her fingers that gripped the counter. She couldn’t let him pull her away. She clung harder to the wood and braced her feet. Only a few more steps to the front door and she could dash into the yard. She’d have to keep running, though. The trailer sat a long way down a deserted dirt road. They didn’t have any neighbors close by. If she had to, she’d find a place in the woods to hide. Anything to wait Shane out. Eventually he’d pass out. He had to… it was her only hope.
Shane had burrowed himself into her life as he was burrowing into her fingers now. She didn’t have any friends left. Her family had given up on her. What she wouldn’t give for one of her brothers to come knocking on the door right about now. They’d tried to help her, repeatedly, but she hadn’t believed she needed them. Or anyone.
But Shane had never been this bad before. The wrath in his eyes made her heart lurch. For the first time, she questioned whether she could break free of him or whether she’d be alive tomorrow to tell someone about his attack.
With his jaw clenched, lips pursed, and brows furrowed, he stared a hole straight through her. Pure evil filled his eyes. Had his hatred always been there, hiding until he chose the right time to reveal his true self? After she was trapped with him, with nowhere to go?
Shane finally pried her fingers off the counter and she fell back. He towered over her, his hands on his hips, and spit on her. She swiped at her cheek, wobbled, and smacked against the hard floor, butt-first.
She brushed his revolting, beer-filled saliva off her face. Bile rose in her throat but she shoved it down. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how revolting she found him.
He always poked her, prodded her, figured out how to hurt her the most. He made her question her own actions time and again. On the floor, she was at his mercy. She couldn’t get her feet beneath her to stand. He usually didn’t actually grab her… just threatened to. That was how Shane operated. The mere threat of his wrath was usually enough to keep her in line.
But she’d had enough, and she would fight back. With her hands behind her and her feet beneath her, she scrambled backward like a crab. What would he do? He could try anything, but each crawl took her a bit closer to the door and freedom.
With each of her backward lurches, he took one step forward. One, then another, matching her movements toward the door. “You think you can get away from me, bitch? Think again.”
Together they inched closer to the door where the phone lay open and the lights on the keypad shone bright. Maybe she had connected the call to 9-1-1 after all. Help had better be coming, because she couldn’t keep holding Shane off. And if she couldn’t...
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. Please let them be coming for me. Hopefully Shane hadn’t heard them yet. He wasn’t afraid of the deputies, and why should he be? He’d talked himself out of worse situations than this one. Had his Daddy get him out of the stickier jams. Of course, her unwillingness to speak up for herself helped his cause. Why had she refused the help that her brothers… and Sawyer, their friend… had offered her so many times?
She crept closer to the door. Only a few more steps and she’d reach freedom before he grabbed her.
The sirens grew louder. Thank God. With no one else in the area, they had to be coming for her. Shane lifted his head and scowled before he snapped back to her, fire in his eyes.
“You bitch.” He kicked her in the side. All the air in her lungs escaped, and she crumpled onto the floor. But only for a moment. Ignoring the pain, she rolled onto her stomach and scrambled toward the door. Her fingers clawed at the carpet, the stink-ridden fibers and layers of dirt getting under her nails.
Shane’s big arms gripped her around the waist. He pulled and she slid against the carpet.
“Shane, stop. Let me go.”
“No way. You’re mine. And you always will be.”
Chapter Two
SAWYER’S CRUISER BOUNCED over the ruts and holes in the road. If you could call it a road. It was more of a crappy dirt path. But it was the only way to get to Rachel. Each time his car bottomed out, his body slammed against the door. His pulse raced, and the siren wailed from his dashboard as he rushed toward Rachel’s trailer. He’d been catching up on some paperwork at the station when the call had come in, a garbled connection followed by several piercing screams. The dispatcher didn’t have to tell him who was calling. He’d just known.
He slammed his hand across his desk and scattered papers on the floor. After securing his handgun in one holster and his Taser in the other, he crashed through the door and jumped into his cruiser. When he shoved the car into gear and slammed the gas pedal to the floor, squealing tires punctuated the blood rushing in his ears.
With two deputies behind him, they tore through town. He careened around a sedan and gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t scream at the driver. Rachel was in trouble. She’d finally called. She was counting on him to save her from a bastard with a terrible reputation of abuse. Shane Buckley had a long history of skirting free of charges—longer than the dirt road leading up to his trailer.
With each second that ticked by, Sawyer’s speed built until he pinned the speedometer.
Just then, Shane and Rachel’s voices rang out loudly through Sawyer’s radio speaker. Maureen had patched the emergency call through to his radio, so he could monitor the situation while on the way. Rachel sobbed and Shane bellowed. Sawyer leaned forward in his seat. Come on. Come on. His tire slammed into another rut, and his head hit the roof. Screw the pain.
Lights from the trailer appeared ahead. Only a couple thousand feet until he could get to Rachel. Maybe this time she’d listen and leave the dirt bag.
“You bitch,” rang through the speaker.
He willed his car to move faster. He couldn’t stand to hear a woman screaming for help. Especially when that woman was Rachel. Finally, he skidded into the pine-needle covered area in front of the trailer and slammed the cruiser into park. He flung open his door, and, with his hand firmly on his holster, he sprinted to the trailer. He yelled as he leapt up the stairs. “Sheriff’s Department. I’m coming in.”
Shane’s furious bellow was the only response. “Get the hell out of here. No one wants you here.”
“We received a call from this address. I’m coming in.” Thank God Maureen was recording the call. She wouldn’t stop taping until Shane Buckley was in handcuffs.
Sawyer threw open the door and his heart lurched as he took in the scene in front of him. Rachel lay sprawled on her hands and knees, her fingers clawing at the carpet. Shane’s huge hands clamped around her waist. As the big man wrestled her, his thick muscles bulged beneath his shirt. Although her tiny form was dwarfed beside Shane’s, she struggled and fought against him, scrambling toward Sawyer.
He quickly assessed the situation. If Shane had a weapon, Sawyer couldn’t risk Rachel getting hurt, or worse, being caught in the crossfire.
An ugly red, raised imprint flamed on her cheek, and shado
ws darkened the skin beneath her fear-filled eyes. Tears streamed down her face. A crushing weight landed on Sawyer’s chest. Damn him.
With her gaze fixed on his, Rachel opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Sawyer shook his head quickly. If she spoke, Shane would get angrier. Sawyer could reason with Shane, try to get him to release her before he hurt her even worse.
Sawyer raised his hands and crept into the trailer. “All right, Shane. How about you let Rachel go and we’ll talk?”
Shane dragged her tight against his chest. “Get the hell out of here. She’s my girlfriend. This ain’t your goddamn business.”
Rachel had been Sawyer’s business for a long time. As much as he wanted to go off on Shane, Sawyer had to stay calm and cool. He had the upper hand. But Rachel’s grunts and squeals threatened the quiet demeanor he prided himself on. He forced the corners of his mouth into a weak smile. “Rachel, do you want to be here?”
She eased her head from side to side, her eyes darting to Shane. Her tears slowed and she squared her shoulders. After all this time, she knew how Shane operated. Unfortunately. All that meant was he’d been this way before. But after tonight, she wouldn’t have to deal with the bastard anymore. Sawyer wasn’t leaving without her, whether Shane agreed or not.
Shane slid his scowling face right up beside hers, and she flinched. “See, man, the bitch wants to stay here.”
Sawyer took another step, his hands still raised in front of him. His Taser was tucked safely on his belt, close enough to grab when needed. If only he’d released the holster latch before he’d opened the door, he could’ve had Shane writhing on the floor in seconds. Now that Shane was using Rachel as a shield, Sawyer couldn’t get a clear shot.
“Shane, we don’t want this to get out of hand. It’s clear Rachel doesn’t want to be here. Let her go and we’ll talk about this.”
Footsteps stomped on the porch. He couldn’t let the other deputies inflame this situation. He waved his hand behind him for them to stay back, keeping his eyes focused on Shane the entire time.
One Last Chance_A Small-Town Romance Page 1
