by Elise Faber
I mentally followed the footfalls through the second floor. Into Max’s room. Then Allie’s. And once again, I was beyond grateful for my sister.
Thank God my kids were not here.
Eventually the sound made it to our room.
I heard male voices and felt the house vibrate as they crashed against the door.
“That’ll make three ruined doors in one day,” I muttered.
Rob huffed out a laugh, shifting slightly in front of me as the crash reverberated through the walls.
“Stay behind me,” he whispered. “No matter what.”
My heart clenched. I nodded.
“Promise.”
“Promise,” I whispered.
And then the closet door shuddered.
33
I watched the silver handles of the dresser rattle as the door was inched irrevocably forward. They rose and fell to the wood surface making a tinkle that was way too delicate for the current situation.
Then I heard them.
Quite possibly the best sound on the planet.
Sirens.
Quietly at first then louder.
The gap was wide enough now for the barrel of a gun to peak through into the closet. That black metal tube might have been the most frightening thing I’d ever experienced.
I worried it would gain enough purchase to turn and point at Rob. Then aim and pull the trigger and—
A curse rent the space, and the gun suddenly disappeared.
Footsteps pounded away from the closet, down the stairs, out across the back deck.
Blowing out a relieved breath, I started to rise to my knees.
Rob shook his head, placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me.
That was when I heard them.
Softer footfalls out of the bathroom, hitting the creaking step on the flight of stairs, slipping out the back door.
A chill slid down my spine, and my teeth chattered.
There was something immensely terrifying about the casual pace of the last intruder, as though they didn’t care about the police sirens bearing down on the house, that froze my blood.
I didn’t like it.
Didn’t like the feeling it gave me.
But I didn’t have a lot of time to process that emotion because there was a whole other series of crashing and banging and pounding footsteps.
“Police!” The dresser rattled again.
“Identify yourself!” Rob shouted.
“Rob?”
Rob sighed and stood. “Hayden,” he said to me. “Yup,” he called. “I’m going to move the dresser so we can come out.”
Sticking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, he shifted the set of drawers back and out of the way. Then he flicked on the light, waited a moment, seemingly to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness, and cracked the door.
I was still blinking against the spots of white in my vision when Hayden stuck his head into the closet.
“Everyone okay?” His gun was still drawn, but resting at his side.
“We’re fine,” Rob said. “I need to get Melissa out to the ranch and talk to Celeste.”
Hayden’s eyes cooled, flicked to me crawling my way out of the corner. “I think that—”
I ignored them both, trying to pretend the flicker of pain at the mention of her name didn’t actually hurt. I had clarity now, and while everything in our marriage wasn’t magically fixed or perfect or hell, even average at this point, I understood the situation better.
I was just storing all the information aside until later when I could decompress and process. When I wasn’t bra-less in a house filled with police officers who’d just managed to unwittingly scare away some men who wanted to seriously hurt us.
Or that was what I presumed, anyhow.
For now, I wanted to get the hell out of this house, get to Kelly’s and hug my kids tight.
I wanted to pretend that there wasn’t a drug ring the next town over. That my husband hadn’t disappeared on me, only to reappear and try to play shining knight.
I wanted to concentrate on the fact that I might have a shot at my dream and that Max might score a goal in his next soccer game, and that I was totally going to let Allie enter that equestrian tournament she’d been begging me about.
I was going to pretend my house wasn’t full of three broken doors, who knew how much shattered glass and ransacked drawers.
I was going to go and hug my kids.
Reaching up, I snagged my rattiest, coziest sweatshirt, yanked it from its hanger, and slipped it over my head.
“Let’s go,” I said, hobbling over to Rob.
“Miss.” He frowned, glancing down at my feet. “You shouldn’t—”
“We’re going,” I gritted out. “Now.”
I was a woman on the edge. I’d been pushed too far.
Terrorized in my own home. Twice. A husband who withheld information to protect me.
Yes, there were mental air quotes on that.
“Melissa—”
“Now, Rob, God dammit!”
I smiled sweetly at Hayden, even as I shoved past him rudely. I’d probably be embarrassed by my actions later.
But I’d. Had. Enough.
“Bye, Hayden.”
“Bye, Miss.”
Ouch. Ouch. Each step was ridiculously painful. I was probably due a pain pill, but I didn’t want to take the time. So I moved on my heels like some sort of deranged mummy and used every handhold and surface I could reach to help disperse my weight.
And I made it as far as the bathroom sink before I found myself slung up and over Rob’s shoulder.
I grunted as all the air whooshed out of my lungs. “What are you doing—?”
“I miss my sweet wife,” he muttered, navigating us to the bedroom and then down the stairs. “Where did she go?”
“You—” I fought his grip, nearly sending us both down the remaining steps.
Rob cursed, clamped me tighter against him, and finished the descent. “She used to be so easygoing, so caring. Now all I get is a fight.” Louder, he said, “McMann, I’m taking her to Kelly’s then I’ll come back to give a statement.”
“Roger that,” McMann responded, and I could hear the amusement in his tone.
Asshole.
Out the front door, down the porch steps, and Rob continued talking. “A nice wife. A family. All I ever wanted. All I ever needed. Instead I get this—”
He popped me on the ass.
The crack didn’t hurt, but it did make me see red.
And it made me do something I never thought I’d do.
I socked him.
Hard and right in the kidney.
“Oof.”
All of a sudden I was right side up, having made a not so gentle landing in the passenger seat of my minivan.
Rob rubbed his back, and though I felt guilty, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize.
After a moment, he crouched in front of me. His hands were on my knees, his eyes level with mine. “All I ever wanted was you, Miss.”
I turned my head away.
“I like it when you punch me.”
Shocked, my gaze whipped back to his.
“What—”
“I like it when you get angry.” His palm came up to cup my cheek. “I like it when you’re pissed off. I love it when you lecture me on the finer arts of baking powder versus baking soda.”
I sniffed, opened my mouth to retort—
His lips brushed mine, softly, gently, a barely-there caress that was gone almost before my brain processed it had happened.
“I like it when you’re angry because it means you care.”
34
I brushed back Max’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was hot, that special kind of inferno that kids always seemed to radiate when they’re sleeping.
He sighed, rolled to his side, wriggling deeper underneath the covers.
“Love you, snuggle bug.”
Had he been awake, I would
have received an eye roll in return, but since he was dead to the world and I’d just been through a potentially life-threatening situation, I figured I had Mom Cred.
In that, I was allowed to use whatever cheesy nicknames for my kids I wanted.
“Mom?”
I jumped when Max’s eyes flew open and he stared up at me.
“Yeah, bud,” I murmured. “I just got here so I thought I’d come in and say good night.”
“M’kay.” His lids drooped.
“Love you.” I pressed another kiss, shoved up to my heels and shuffled through the Jack and Jill bathroom to Allie’s room.
I wondered briefly if they’d have to give the bedrooms up when the twins were born, before internally chuckling. There were at least another six unused bedrooms at the ranch. Kel and Justin would have to make a lot more babies before my kiddos had to give up the privilege of their own room at Auntie Kel’s house.
Also, this just in: thinking of my sister procreating was gross.
I rolled my eyes, gripped the doorframe, and made my way over to Allie’s bed. I found that walking on my heels wasn’t so bad.
She was sleeping on her back, arms and legs spread eagle, little body taking up as much of the mattress space as physically possible. She’d kicked the blankets off, so I pulled them up and tucked them tightly around her.
No doubt they’d be in a pile at the foot of the bed in no time, but I couldn’t just let her stay uncovered.
She might get cold.
I leaned close, brushed a finger down one soft cheek, and pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. Her breaths were long and even, laced with the scent of her bubblegum mouthwash.
“Night, sweet pea,” I whispered and tucked Mr. Tails, her ratty stuffed cat, under the blankets with her before stepping back.
Allie didn’t reply, her sleep unhindered by my fussing. I limped my way out of the room and closed the door behind me.
Then nearly screamed when I saw the man in the hallway.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said softly. “I’m Danny with the security company. I wanted to introduce myself. I’ll be on patrol inside all night.”
My heart was thundering, and I placed my hand on my chest to steady it. “I’m Melissa,” I said, happy my voice sounded relatively even. I mean the man was a giant. Several inches taller than Rob, and with arms that resembled tree trunks. Add in the tattoos and—I forced my eyes away—was that a bullet wound on his neck?
Or a freshly healed over one, anyway.
Holy soufflé. Just what kind of people did Justin know?
“Nice to meet you,” I said into the silence that had fallen. What did one say to a man who looked like he could crunch you into a million pieces? He was going to petrify the kids.
But then Danny smiled, and I saw a kindness in his eyes that instantly put me at ease.
Okay, maybe he wouldn’t frighten the kids so long as he kept that grin at the ready.
Danny extended an arm and handed me a cell phone.
It wasn’t mine.
“Uhh,” I said eloquently, even as I took the phone. It was the latest model of i-whatever and way nicer than my cracked screen, super old and slow version.
“A clean line.” He shrugged. “Just in case. Your contacts are preprogrammed. And if you need anything, security is speed dial under one.”
“Okay.” I stared at the blank home screen, half-expecting to see my picture of the kids and Rob and somehow disappointed when I didn’t.
“Or you can text.”
I nodded. Of course they wouldn’t load family pictures on the phone.
But why then did it feel so wrong that they weren’t there?
Ignoring the niggling, I thanked Danny and slipped past him.
Since I wasn’t usually invited for sleepovers at my sister’s house, I didn’t have my own room. But Justin had said I could sleep in the empty bedroom directly across the hall from the kids. And no surprise, it was gorgeous, filled with expensive furniture I could never dream of owning and linens that probably cost more than my car.
Not that expensive furnishings and sheets were Justin’s thing any more than they were Kel’s, but Justin’s family was old money, and that meant they came with things like a live-in housekeeper and thousand-thread count towels.
My sister had definitely moved up several spheres in the social echelon since Justin had come around.
But silky sheets and a luxurious mattress weren’t necessary tonight. I was beyond exhausted from the events of the last day, and I would surely have fallen asleep no matter where my head landed.
After hobbling to the bedside, I pulled back the comforter and swayed a little. Given the swirling sensation in my head, the pain pill that Justin had forced on me must be starting to work.
But only just, I supposed, since I didn’t have the urge yet to talk about clouds.
I wrinkled my nose, flipped off the bedside light, and flopped onto the pillows, tugging the blankets up and carefully slipping my feet beneath them.
Not even one day as an invalid, and I was already sick of it.
How was I supposed to parent if I could barely walk?
And it wasn’t even like I had a broken limb and could manage on the other leg. Nope, I’d managed to mangle the bottoms of both feet.
Brilliant. Excellent work, Miss.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to overtake me.
Son of a beignet, mother fillet of tilapia, and whatever other culinary curse words I could come up with—I really needed to curb my current penchant for the f-bomb if I didn’t want to risk the kids picking it up. That thought was mute at the moment though, because my brain had decided that despite two break-ins in less than twelve hours, one ER visit complete with stitches, glue, and irrigation, and then some seriously way too adult and contentious conversations with my husband, it was not going to let me sleep.
No. It wanted to pour over every detail of the intrusions, of the words exchanged with Rob.
It wanted to focus on the sex. Which had been—
I bit my lip.
Really, really good.
My mind deconstructing each detail of the night was probably the only reason I heard Rob slip into my room.
I knew instantly it was him, in the way that a person’s body knows another body as well as their own. Sudden awareness, a flash of heat, of comfort, and still, unfortunately, a small slice of hurt.
He was almost silent because Justin’s house didn’t have squeaky floors or unoiled hinges, but despite the darkness, I could track his movements. The careful closing of the door, the soft footsteps across the carpet, the careful descent . . . into the chair near the foot of the bed.
“No,” I said and felt him freeze. “Here.” I lifted one side of the comforter.
After a second, I heard him push to his feet. Then he was fully clothed in bed next to me.
But it was okay because he pulled me into his arms, held me tight to his chest.
It was okay because he was Rob, because he was my husband, because he smelled good, and his chest was the same soft-hard combination of man that had given me comfort so many times over.
“You were wrong to do what you did,” I said.
His lungs expanded and compressed beneath my ear. “Yes, I was.”
And then I fell headlong into sleep.
35
“But Mom!”
I crossed my arms and glared down at my daughter. “Absolutely not.”
It was Saturday evening, one day after the events from hell, and I’d just woken up. Which was totally going to mess my brain up for the week, but sleep schedules aside, my mom duties didn’t end.
“Your Aunt Kelly isn’t feeling well,” I reminded her. We’d taken that route rather than explain it was because of a security risk that we couldn’t allow Allie to go for a ride.
“Uncle Justin can—”
“Your Uncle is taking care of Abby and—”
“Allie.”
/> Rob’s voice warmed a trail down my spine. I glanced over my shoulder. He’d been gone when I’d woken up, but had reappeared like magic to carry me downstairs and settle me on the couch.
When I’d protested my feet were feeling better after the full day’s rest, he’d simply rolled his eyes and lifted me up into his arms.
Then he’d tucked a pillow behind my back, settled a blanket over my middle, and handed me my dose of antibiotic along with a glass of water.
“Your mother said no.” Rob crossed his arms. “So it’s no.”
I saw the explosion brewing before Rob did.
Cheeks going red, lips pressing tightly together before her chest filled with air.
“It’s not fair.”
“Sweetheart,” I said. “We’ve talked about this. Sometimes things don’t go to plan, and we have to make changes on the fly.”
I purposely used an idiom I didn’t think she’d understand, hoping the confusion and her typically incessant need for questions would diminish some of her anger.
Maybe it wouldn’t always work, but it did this time.
“Why are you talking about a fly?” Her skin was still flushed but not nearly as much as before, and instead of tears in her eyes, she had questions.
“On the fly, honey,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her close so I could cuddle her against my chest. Sometimes there was nothing better than the smell and feel of your kid. Soft and fragile and so, so precious.
Last night had reminded me of that. For a moment, I thought I’d never get to see her again, never get to hold her.
Even if she was going right back to driving me crazy less than twenty-four hours later.
“It means that sometimes things change without reason, and we can’t control them. It means that we can’t get upset about it.” I held her pale brown eyes with my own. “We can be disappointed, but it also means we can’t throw a temper tantrum because we understand that stuff sometimes happens.”
Her brows pulled together, and I waited as she processed my words.
“You mean like when I spilled the milk?”
My lips twitched. “Which time?”
