by Zoey Parker
“Um…don’t you want to know my name?”
He scowled. I did everything in my power to stay calm, but the panic in my chest started to swell.
“Sir, I’m sorry to take up your time, and I realize there’s a lot of violent crime out there, but this is important to me. My husband laid hands on me two weeks ago, stalked me via phone and text message since then, and last night tried to attack me as I left my place of employment. I need a restraining order to protect myself, and hopefully my little girl. I need your help.” I said it with all the dignity I could muster, and it seemed to get through to the sour old desk cop.
He frowned with at least a little sympathy, then did a little typing on his keyboard. “All right. What’s your ex-husband’s name?” He glanced at me, waiting.
I took a deep, shaky breath. “Connor Baker.”
His eyes widened. I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
***
“It only took three hours, but I finally filed it.”
Mom sat across from me at her kitchen table, worry creasing her forehead. “They didn’t want to believe you?”
“Isn’t it funny? I mean, I understand it isn’t easy to hear that somebody you know and respect isn’t everything they seem to be.” I took a sip of my coffee, remembering the disbelief on the faces around me. “But that doesn’t make the accusation any less true. You would think a bunch of cops would know what goes on in private life, behind closed doors. That they would have seen it all, that nothing could surprise them anymore.”
I took yet another deep breath—what felt like the millionth that day—and tried to let the simplicity and neatness of my mother’s kitchen calm me. There was something about a clean, sparkling kitchen that always soothed my soul. Even at its cleanest, my kitchen at the apartment would never really look nice thanks to its age and rundown condition.
“What did they say when they first heard his name?” Mom asked.
“They didn’t believe it. One of them even laughed a little before he could stop himself. It made me feel like such a fool, like a joke. Another one, I think he was a sergeant or something, he made it sound like I was just a pissed off ex-wife looking for revenge. Asking me if I had any witnesses to the alleged attempted attack last night. As though I need witnesses.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“They’ll never understand how it feels. The courage it takes to ask for help in the first place, and to have them make light of it.”
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to.”
“I know they didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t. I wish they knew how it felt, I really do. They might be a little more compassionate.”
“It was a shame Parker couldn’t have gone with you,” Mom murmured.
“Mom…”
“I mean it. What? Why the attitude?”
“You’re trying to say it would have been better if he weren’t an outlaw who’s afraid to go near a police station. I get it.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Of course she did. “You’re the one putting words in my mouth.”
“You don’t hear your tone sometimes,” I argued. “You don’t know how you sound.”
“Fine. Make me the bad guy because you need a bad guy right now.” She got up and turned away from me, making a big deal about scrubbing the sink, though it was obvious she’d already scrubbed it.
I sighed, giving up. She had a way of making me do that, giving up though I knew I was in the right. It wasn’t worth fighting over. “I’m sorry,” I said, standing behind her. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You’re the one person I shouldn’t be lashing out at.”
“What about your boyfriend? You shouldn’t be lashing out at him either.”
Give me strength with this woman. “He isn’t my boyfriend, Mom, and you know it.”
“He seemed that way at the apartment.”
“Mom, why are you doing this?” I wanted to throw something. Maybe one of her precious porcelain teapots, which she’d collected since I was little. That might get through to her, or it might at least let me vent some of the extreme aggravation she made me feel.
She shut off the water, turning to me with red-rimmed eyes. “Wait until Isabella gets a little older. Wait until you know how it feels to watch your daughter make poor decision after poor decision. See how that makes you act.” She ran the back of her hand over her eyes.
“Poor decisions.” I felt the way I had when I faced down the cop at the station. When would I be able to relax and stop playing on defense all the time? “I hate that you’re calling it that. The last time I checked, you wanted me to marry Connor. You were insane with excitement over it. You wanted me taken care of. You wanted me married to a man like him, who had such great prospects. Right?”
“I didn’t know…”
“No, you didn’t, but you sure commended my good choice back then. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. Are you saying it’s my fault?”
“No. I’m saying it’s easy to sit back, years later, and say it was a poor decision. I hope you’re not saying it was a poor decision to leave him.”
“God, no.”
I nodded. “Good. Because it wasn’t, and I know it wasn’t. I made a strong decision for the first time in my life. I’m not paying for marrying him right now—all this struggle, working like a dog just to make ends meet. I’m paying for the decision to leave, but I would do it again.”
“I know. I know that.”
“So I guess you’re talking about Parker, then.” I sat again, all the fight leaking out of me. I was so very tired, down to my bones. “He’s not a decision so much as a necessity right now. I need him in my life. I need something good and strong.”
“Is he good, though? Tell me truthfully. Is he good?”
Was he? I didn’t know. “I think he has a good heart. I think he’s made poor choices. But he’s hurting, too, Mom. We’re all hurting.”
“Please.” She scoffed, turning her face to the window.
“You don’t think so? The man held his dying fiancée in his arms as she bled to death.”
She glanced at me. “And how did she bleed to death? Did she suddenly start bleeding? What caused it?”
I sighed, looking down at my hands. I shouldn’t have brought it up. “Somebody shot her.”
“And I guess he had nothing to do with that?” Oh, the superiority in her voice. It made me gag a little.
“His lifestyle did. All right? Is that what you want to hear? Fine.” I couldn’t win. “I’ll tell you this, though: if he weren’t there for me last night, I don’t know what Connor would have done. Nobody else came to help me except for Parker. If you think that’s no big deal, you’re entitled. But you weren’t there. You didn’t see how crazy Connor was. It was insane.”
“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. I want you to have a good life, with good friends and good people in it. I want you to be comfortable one day so you don’t have to work to make ends meet. I want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?” Mom’s chin quivered, and I felt sorry for arguing.
“It’s not wrong,” I muttered, putting my arms around her. “You know I don’t think it’s wrong, for heaven’s sake. This isn’t the way I thought my life would go, you know. Nobody plans for something like this or wants it. I’m doing the best I can from one minute to the next. I hope it dies down in time and I can feel a little more secure. For right now, I’m in panic mode. The house is burning and I can’t question the firefighter who wants to catch me when I jump. Does that make any sense? It’s the best way I can describe how I feel.”
Mom nodded, pulling away to splash her face with cool water. “Yes, that makes sense. I understand. I hate feeling so helpless, standing here, watching it happen when there’s nothing I can do.”
“I can only imagine,” I admitted. I waited until she calmed down, and the two of us sat at the table again. Isabella, oblivious to just about everything, sat in the living room and watched some educational pr
ogram. She counted to ten in Spanish, clearly proud of herself, though I couldn’t see her. I grinned at Mom. “She’s worth working for, by the way. I don’t work for me.”
“Oh, I know that. I know you’re a good mother. I would never question that. I just want to protect the two of you, and I feel powerless.”
I smiled grimly. “I know that feeling.”
I had decided that morning it was too much to ask Isabella to sit in the apartment all day. She was bored, antsy, and she needed sunshine. Mom had agreed to keep an eye on her while I worked. I needed to get out, too, so I spent the morning with the two of them before going to work.
“Honey?” I called Isabella into the kitchen, and she obliged with a spring in her step. Where she got her energy, I had no idea. I wished I could bottle it. “Why don’t you go outside and play for a while? You need vitamin D.”
“What’s that mean? I take vitamins every day.”
I grinned. “Yeah, but sunshine gives you more of it.” I patted her behind, directing her to the back door. She wasn’t in a contrary mood that morning, which was a blessing. I didn’t feel like explaining every little request.
Mom waited until she was outside. We could both see her in the fenced-off yard, playing with a few toys Mom kept out there especially for her. “Does she understand anything about this?”
I watched my little girl, inspired and fearful at the same time. She had a way of shaking off all setbacks, ignoring the things that worried or upset her and focusing on the joy in life. I wished I could be more like her. I hoped she wouldn’t lose that quality too soon.
“I don’t think so,” I said, wishing I were more certain. “She’s so observant, isn’t she?”
“She is,” Mom agreed. “She sees and hears everything. You were the same way.”
“It’s funny. I don’t want her absorbing all of this and coming to her own conclusions. I want to straighten things out for her, to make her feel better. You know? But that means going to her, asking what she knows. What if she doesn’t know anything? What Pandora’s box will that open?”
Mom nodded, smirking. “I know that feeling. You don’t want to start trouble where there might not be any.”
“Right. What should I do?” I looked to my mother, thankful that she was still in my life. As much of a pain as she could be, she kept me centered.
“Let her go. Observe for a while. See how she acts when Parker is around. See if she asks about Connor. Then start asking questions about how she feels. Don’t go to her first. Make sure she knows she’s loved and protected no matter what. That way, if something comes up in her little head, she’ll remember you’re there to love and protect her.”
I sighed, feeling some measure of peace. “You’re right. I shouldn’t start trouble where there isn’t any. I have enough to worry about as it is.” Like whether Connor would press charges against Parker for the little love tap the night before. My heart pounded just a little harder at the memory of watching him reduce my ex-husband to a shrinking, shaking pile of mush. It was beautiful. Still, I knew it could result in big trouble for Parker.
He didn’t seem to care—at least, he told me he didn’t. “It felt fucking great,” he’d said in his usual blunt manner. I’d put ice on his knuckles when we got back to my apartment. Mom had been aghast when she saw how keyed up he was. I could understand why—his energy was through the roof. Not long after Mom left, he’d made it clear how much hitting Connor had excited him when he took me on the kitchen table. I’d clung to him for dear life, struggling to hold back my ecstatic cries as he drove himself into me.
The next day, I was as confused about the two of us as I was about everything else in my life. When would things start making sense?
“Are you sure the two of you will be okay here today?” I asked when it came time to go to work. I put on my uniform, my heart pounding. Would Connor show up at the diner again?
“I’m more concerned about you,” Mom said, chewing her bottom lip. “I’m worried you’ll run into something or somebody you shouldn’t.”
“Let’s come right out with it. You’re worried about Connor.” I put my hands on her arms, telling myself to be strong for her sake. “Now that I have the restraining order, he’ll be a fool if he shows up. The cops will have contacted him by now, so he knows. Everything will be all right.”
She didn’t look convinced. It was all right. I didn’t feel convinced either.
Chapter 22
Parker
“And you’re sure you’ll be okay there today? I would feel a lot better if I were there with you.”
Ellie laughed softly. I could hear her laughter on my end of the phone just like she was in front of me, and the sound went straight to my cock. She had the sort of deep, throaty laugh that turns a man on.
“What would you do? Sit at the counter all day? That would be a surefire way to keep the customers outside. Jimmy would throw a fit.” I knew she was only kidding, though she wasn’t totally wrong. Her boss wouldn’t have liked it too much if I hung around.
“I could hang out outside, then. In your car. He can’t give me shit about that, can he?”
Ellie laughed again. “Don’t worry so much, all right? I’m only going in until five. I’m sure he’s at work until then. If there’s one thing he would never miss, it’s a day at the office.”
“Yeah, with a broken nose, though? I don’t know about that.” I knew I had broken it. I had felt the bones crunch under my fist, had heard the sound. There was no mistaking a sound like that. It had been fucking incredible, laying him out flat. I would do it again if I could.
“Hmm. That’s true. If I know him, he would go in just to get sympathy from the women around the office.” I heard the loathing in her voice, and I couldn’t blame her. He was worth loathing.
“Okay. If you say you’re safe, you’re safe.” I made a note to get another security detail out there—this time, I wouldn’t have them leave before her shift was over. I didn’t care if she knew they were there or not. I’d feel a lot better with somebody keeping an eye on her, and would deal with her attitude later.
“I’m safe. But thank you.” She giggled a little. “And thank you for last night.”
There went my cock again, stirring at the thought. “I should be the one to thank you.”
“Okay. Thank me, then.”
I smirked. “How about I thank you later on? At your place?”
She groaned. “Sounds good. Let’s take it to the bedroom this time, though. I don’t need my kid getting a lesson in human anatomy so soon.”
“Copy that.” I didn’t know what got into me—she was right, of course, if the kid woke up she would’ve seen us. I had to have her at that very minute. It was like some animal force took control of me. If I had been thinking clearly, I never would have risked it.
We got off the phone then, since she had to get out of the car and into the diner, and I had to get some work done. It was my job to take inventory at the clubhouse once a month. Weapons, ammo, that sort of thing. We kept everything in a triple-locked shed behind the place, just in case anybody got a little handsy and decided to take what we had. I was the only one who knew the combinations to the locks on the door, too. It was really a retooled bomb shelter—Ryder had insisted on it, so nobody could break in. People had tried, but once word got around that it was impossible, they’d left us alone.
I stood there with my clipboard, making sure the numbers matched up. We had an entire arsenal back there—weapons we’d collected from other clubs, weapons we’d purchased for ourselves, enough ammo to keep us locked and loaded until kingdom come. There was something about standing in the middle of all that potential destruction.
Mason, meanwhile, kept a lookout just outside the door. “So,” he called in, “how are things going with that girl?”
“Why are you so interested in my sex life?” I asked, checking off a few boxes after counting the boxes of shells.
“I don’t know. I’m bored shitless out he
re. I wish you would hurry up.”
“I’m going as fast as I can, and I’d go faster if you’d keep your mouth shut.” I didn’t want to talk about Ellie. She wasn’t like one of the club groupies, up for grabs, topic for conversation. I wasn’t about to compare her to other women like we did when we slept with the groupies. I wasn’t trying to one-up Mason the way we normally did with each other. No bragging, no locker room talk. I didn’t feel that way about her. I didn’t know what I felt.
“I wish you would at least tell me how it felt to break that fucker’s nose,” he said.
“Oh, that felt awesome.” That much I would talk about to anybody who asked. “He had it coming. I wish it would heal up real fast so I could break it again.”
