He took another step back and saw the loving glow dim in her eyes. She shifted to her feet, one hand on each girl’s head as though holding them back.
There was only one way to keep her safe.
By returning to the real world, that’s how.
By hiding his head—and his heart—in the sand.
By ignoring his own needs and wants.
Who had he been kidding? They may be two consenting adults, but Harley deserved more. She deserved Prince Charming and Galahad.
She deserved the fairy tale, not the nightmare.
He closed his eyes against the love shining in hers, and the memory of her naked body pressed against his threatened to chase away the chill in his heart.
All he needed was a little time to regain control and then he could face her again. Tell her he’d made a mistake in bringing them to stay with him.
From somewhere deep inside, he found the strength he needed.
He forced his eyes open, plowed his fingers through his hair, regret gut-punching him as he backed up another step, and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “I need to pick up Mom.”
He barely got the words out before his throat closed up and he gave in to the urge to run.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Within days of Gage’s mom moving into the house, Harley knew it was over.
Not because of the older woman.
Frances was lovely, doting on the girls, helpful with meals and bath times and bed times.
But Gage was absent.
Sure, he’d show up for breakfast and tease the girls, making their eyes light up for the man they loved. Afterward, he’d vanish and stay away until everyone was in bed.
And even though Harley stayed awake each night, listening for the sound of his return, praying that he would miss her enough to join her in his bed, he didn’t.
Instead, he slept on the couch.
And now she was beginning to feel like an intruder, unwanted, in the way.
Everywhere she turned, she was reminded of those few precious days in his arms. His laughter. His scent. The way he dealt with the twins.
But her broken heart wasn’t any reason to put the girls at risk, and until the issue with Mike was resolved, she was stuck here.
By early evening, with the exhausted girls in bed and Frances reading them a bedtime story, Harley straightened up the living room and tried to hold her depression at bay.
She remembered his words from a few days ago. He thought he was a monster, unsuitable for a relationship. What could she do to convince him otherwise?
The back door creaked open and clicked shut. She straightened, toys and books in her arms, surprised that he was home this early, hoping and praying that he might have finally come to his senses and realized that he was worth loving.
And so was she.
She set the items in her arms down on the coffee table and walked toward the kitchen. As she stepped into the room, a shadow caught her eye, and the familiar scent of alcohol forewarned her of danger.
But it was too late to retreat.
Mike grabbed her around the waist, hauled her up against his body, and pressed a knife to her throat. “Where are they?”
Everything inside of her froze. No way was her son-of-a-bitch brother-in-law getting past her to Laura and Lisa. She’d protect them with her fists, her feet, her teeth.
Her very life.
She forced herself to remain calm, to speak softly so Frances and the girls wouldn’t hear. “Mike, let me go. We can talk this through.”
From deep in his throat, she heard him snarl. “I want my girls.”
“If you take them like this, you’ll make things worse.”
He laughed harshly in her ear, and the scent of alcohol nearly choked her. “How can they be worse? My wife is dead. You’ve taken away my only other reason to live.”
Heart thundering in her ears, she reached deep for bravery. “Please, Mike. Hannah wouldn’t want you to act like this.”
“Hannah.” As the name was torn from his throat on a sob, the knife dug deeper. “It should have been you that died. Not my beautiful wife.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Down at the station, Gage sat at his desk and stared at the image on his iPhone.
It was the picture he’d taken the day they’d brought the pool home for the girls. Laura was in the act of pouring a pail of water over her sister’s head, while Lisa was simultaneously doing one of her mouth-wide-open laughs and choking on the gush of water filling her mouth.
And Harley in her sexy bikini, her feet in the pool to keep her cool, laughed along with the girls.
How had they taken over his house, his life, his heart, in such a short time?
Adam passed by, stopped to peer at the photo, then headed around to the desk on the other side and sat down. “Cute picture. Makes a guy wish it was his family, doesn’t it?”
Gage set the phone on the desk and wiped a hand across his eyes, surprised to find moisture there. Self-conscious, he ducked his head, and peered around the room.
No one was paying him a bit of attention.
And maybe that was odd in itself, because it seemed like every time he came down to the station, somebody got a dig in about riding his Harley.
A pang of self-pity washed through him.
It was over. He’d never make love with Harley again. Never wake up to her morning smile. Never hold her in his arms.
He shifted on the chair, determined to be done with his pity party, and focused on his partner. “How’s Robyn doing?”
Adam glanced down at the cell in his hand. “The doc says if the baby doesn’t come by the end of next week, she’ll induce the stubborn kid.” There was a moment of silence, then Adam continued quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her and the baby. I don’t know how Mike makes it through the day.”
The screen on Gage’s cell went black and he tapped it, brought up the picture again, and felt his heart ache.
“With a bottle of booze in his hand.” He lifted his gaze to his partner’s face, saw the love for his wife and unborn child shining in his eyes. “You’re different. You’re stronger than Mike. Stronger than me.” Gage blinked away the moisture in his eyes and gave a rough laugh. “Nothing will happen to Robyn or the baby. By this time next week, you’ll be dragging your butt in here, whining like a little girl about night time feedings, and lack of sleep and sex.”
Adam’s cell vibrated against the desk. He grabbed it, glanced at the screen, then shot to his feet. “Fuck. Her water just broke.”
Gage grabbed his phone and followed his partner up. “I’ll drive. Otherwise you’re bound to forget to pick up your wife.”
“No, I’m good. As soon as the baby’s here, I’ll let you know.” As he raced from the room, he shouted over his shoulder, “Go home, Toryn. Do whatever you need to do, but don’t let Harley go. If you do, you’ll regret it for the rest of your miserable existence.”
Gage tapped the cell phone screen again, stared at the photo, and knew without a doubt in his mind that he loved them…all of them.
He tucked the cell into his pocket and headed for the door, never more scared and more uncertain than he was right now.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
By the time Gage turned the motorbike onto his street, he knew the girls would be asleep and he didn’t want to wake them up. So he cut the engine, and coasted the bike down the street and onto his driveway. As he passed by the unmarked cop car, he waved.
Swinging one leg over the seat, he stopped long enough to shed his gloves and helmet before he headed toward the back door.
The neighborhood was quiet, one of those mid-summer lulls when it was too hot outside to mow lawn or go for a walk. People were indoors hiding from the heat.
Footsteps quiet, he bounded up the stairs and across the patio with barely a creak of the wood to give his arrival away. He pulled open the screen door, stepped into the porch, and froze.
The woman he loved, the woma
n he’d tried to cut out of his life in order to keep her safe from harm, stood in the middle of the kitchen with his brother holding a knife to her throat.
His first reaction was to launch himself forward and take down his asshole brother. In the split second he used to evaluate the situation—the drop of blood on her throat, her hands on Mike’s forearms as though she was about to use one of her self-defense moves to try to take him down, the sheen of sweat on his brother’s face, the stench of alcohol permeating the small area—he raised his hands and clasped them behind his head.
Think quickly. Reason clearly. Maintain discipline.
Right now, the urge to shove Harley out of danger and strangle his bastard brother tested his self-control.
Where were the twins? Where was his mom? There was only silence coming from the rest of the house and he prayed they were unhurt.
For now, he focused on the occupants of the kitchen.
Harley looked fragile, breakable, like one of those delicate figurines his mom had kept on the fireplace mantle before his dad took exception to a misplaced comment and decided to bust them up.
A muscle jumped in his bicep. Ignoring the man with the weapon, he looked into Harley’s soft mocha eyes. “Are you all okay?”
She nodded once, her lips pressed together, her dark eyes filled with fear and relief, hero worship and love. Damn, he didn’t deserve that, not after the way he’d walked out on her and the girls.
If he’d been here, Mike wouldn’t have her in a neck lock now.
Was it too late to make reparations?
Gage stepped forward, and stopped mid-stride when Mike pressed the knife blade harder against her throat.
Be patient. Listen carefully.
He hated the first few hours of a situation. Waiting, praying no one got hurt before he could move and take action. Especially when that someone held the ravaged pieces of his heart.
Why had he wanted to stay separate from her again?
Terror. Fear. Trepidation. All put there—not by him—but by another man.
His brain couldn’t decipher the sense of that right now. All he knew was that the reason he’d tried to cut this woman out of his life no longer made any sense. “Mike, let her go. This is between you and me, bro.”
His brother tightened his hold around her waist and backed up a couple of steps, dragging her with him. “I’m here for my girls. Hand them over and I’ll leave quietly.”
Gage planted one foot on the first step leading into the kitchen and focused all of his attention on his younger brother. “You know I can’t let you take them, not like this.”
A growl of rage escaped the other man and he tightened his hold around Harley’s ribcage. “They’re all I have left. Everything else is gone.”
Stay calm. Be cool.
Gage took another step up. One more to go. Slow and easy. No fast moves. “What are you talking about, man? You have your home, the ranch—”
Mike’s voice cracked. “They mean nothing. Not without Hannah. Not without my family.”
“You’re right, Mike. A house isn’t a home until it’s filled with the people you love.” As he stole another step, sorrow enveloped him. He finally understood the depth of his brother’s agony. He softened his voice, softened his demeanor. “Please, Mike, let her go. I don’t want to lose Harley like you lost Hannah.”
A noise in the hallway caught his attention, and he looked without turning his head.
Laura. Funny how he hadn’t been able to tell the twins apart before. Now he’d be able to recognize them just by the tone of their voice, the way they formed their sentences, their body language.
The older twin stopped in the entryway, her hands clasped beneath her chin. “Daddy?”
With Mike’s attention diverted, Harley pushed free of his arms and dashed toward the frightened girl. Gage launched himself across the room, his only thought to protect his family, and tackled his brother around the waist.
Metal flashed in the evening sunlight. He was ready for it.
Mike hit the ground flat on his back, Gage on top, his body weight adding to Mike’s fall. With the icy rage of a man who’d almost lost the most precious gift of all—the woman he loved, the child he’d sworn to protect—he smashed his fist into his brother’s face.
Christ, he hadn’t felt this angry since he was a teen and he’d stopped his dad from beating on his mom.
But he didn’t want to frighten Laura, didn’t want to scare Harley.
With one hand pressed against his brother’s chest, the other one holding back the arm with the knife, Gage cleared his head.
He needed to be calm, cool, reasonable…like he’d been all week with the twins underfoot.
Gage locked down his anger and slammed the back of his brother’s hand against the floor. “Drop the knife, Mike.”
The weapon clattered to the floor. Mike tried to buck him off, his words slurred by alcohol. “You’re no better than I am, you son-of-a-bitch. You’ve stolen my family, my life. Get the fuck off me.”
Gage kicked the knife out of reach, jack knifed to his feet, and jerked his brother up. “What the hell are you doing, man? You could have hurt Harley or the twins or Mom.”
“I need my girls.”
“Not like this, man. You need help and I’m going to see that you get it whether you like it or not.” Shoving him toward the front door, Gage felt compassion hit. His younger brother wasn’t a terrible person. He needed help and understanding and maybe some tough love. Gage softened his voice. “You’re getting sober and straightening out, or I’m laying charges and you’re going to jail. Those are your options. If you don’t get your life together, I’ll make sure you never see your girls again.”
A heartbeat passed. Then another and another. Hatred poured from Mike’s gaze as he struggled to break free, and the fury that filled the narrow space between them threatened to shred the tiny bit of control Gage held over his anger.
He wouldn’t lose it. There was only one thing he never wanted to control again.
His love for his family.
Without saying another word, Gage herded Mike out the front door.
Pulling open the back door of the cop car, startling the officer behind the steering wheel, he shoved his brother into the back seat. “Get him out of here. Lock him up for the night. Sober him up. Give him a goddamn shave and a shower. Maybe by morning he’ll listen to reason.”
The anger in Mike deflated and he cradled his head in his hands. “So what’ll happen to me now?”
Resting his hand on the roof of the car, Gage remained calm. “It’s simple. You get help. Only then will you be able to go home to your family.”
Slowly, Mike raised his head. Defeat ravaged his posture. Sorrow rode his features. “The girls? Laura and Lisa? What’ll happen to them?”
Without hesitation, he replied. “Harley and I will take care of the twins.”
Mike’s expression crumbled and a tear tracked down his face. “Christ, Gage, I’m sorry everything went wrong, and you and Harley and the girls got stuck in the middle of it.”
Gage hunkered down by the open door, watchful and cautious in case this was a ploy to escape. “Why the violence? I never understood it. I didn’t think you did either.”
“Dad taught me that the only way to maintain control was with his fists, and without Hannah there—” His brother’s voice broke and he turned away. “Do you think the girls will ever forgive me?”
He clasped one hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. “They love you, man. You’re their daddy.”
“What about Harley? I’ve treated her like crap. Christ, I could’ve killed her.”
“In time, she’ll forgive you, too.”
He knew she would because Harley Jane Davis didn’t have a single grudge-bone in her body.
As he turned toward the house, he hoped she had it in herself to forgive him for bailing out on her and the girls.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
As the squad car pu
lled away from the curb, Gage saw the front door open, and Harley came out, Laura’s hand tucked in hers.
Four years old, and already his niece had been through so much. She’d lost her mom, and if Mike didn’t get his act together, she’d lose her dad, too.
But she wouldn’t lose her aunt and uncle, of that he’d make certain.
Gage started toward them. Laura tugged free, and as she ran down the steps toward him, he knelt down on one knee.
In the distance, a siren sounded, but all that mattered were the people he loved as much as Mike loved his family.
Hope and dread mixed together in his gut.
What he was about to do scared the freaking bejeesus out of him.
He focused his attention on the older twin. “Are you okay?”
She stopped and nodded, her sun-lightened curls bobbing up and down, her worried gaze following the squad car as it disappeared down the street.
“Good, because I was scared.” His voice was hoarse, filled with a need he no longer wanted to hide. “It’s okay to be scared, isn’t it?”
It was as if a dam broke and the floodgates opened. As Laura turned her attention back to him and rushed forward, he opened his arms and braced himself for the impact of her tiny body. He closed his arms around her and held on tight.
Laura squeezed her arms around his neck and hiccupped a sob. “Is my daddy a bad man now, like Grandpa?”
“No, sugarplum, your daddy is very, very good. He misses your mommy so much, he doesn’t know how to act without her.”
The front door opened again and his mom came out, Lisa’s hand tucked into hers.
Laura tugged on his chin, bringing his gaze back to her. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Where is Daddy going?”
Gage’s stomach got tight. “Somewhere safe. He’s sick, sugarplum. But now we can get him the help he needs. And as soon as it’s possible, I’ll make sure you can see him every day until he’s ready to come home.”
Terms of Surrender Page 22
