Protective Instincts

by Mary Marvella

  He'd check her answering machine. The phone rang as he reached for the play button. "Hope you enjoyed the redecorating in your backyard. Did you get our message? We'll soon stop toying with you. Did you think bugging your phone would help? Stupid bitch! Enjoy life while you can. Our friend botched the job but we won't. The boyfriend and his kid are next."

  After the dial tone had died down, Sam reversed the machine to check for messages left earlier.

  Message one. "I know you're home and I have a poem for you. Roses are red. You'll soon be dead. Ha! Bad rhyme but true, I'm gonna get you."

  Damn. Had Brit been home to hear this one when it came through or had she found it when she got home from school. Why hadn't he had a warning belly-ache or other symptom? The caller sounded serious. Surely, Drake hadn't been able to call her from jail. His trial couldn't be soon enough.

  Time to go home and pack a bag. Adrienne had promised to have Sean call before bedtime. At least his kid was safe.

  Sam headed to get some rest. He'd head to New Britain first thing in the morning. Wouldn't Brit be surprised? Why hadn't she at least called him to let him know she'd skipped town? Didn't she trust him to take care of her?

  * * * *

  Saturday morning couldn't have been any better for softball if it had been special ordered. By noon, the temperature reached the low eighties and shorts and sleeveless shirts were in order.

  Having slept late, Brit wandered downstairs to find Matthew still in his pajama bottoms. It was strange to see him lazily scratching the thin pelt of reddish brown hair on his pale chest. By now, his skin should have been shades darker and he should've been working outside. He must be as worn out as she was, to sleep so late. Of course, she'd slept fitfully.

  Her nightmares had followed her. Last night she'd dreamed her attacker was here. He'd followed her and was now a threat to her family. Sam tried to get to her but the attacker shot him. She'd cried in her sleep! Her pillow was wet when she awoke.

  In her dream, Matthew had come to her rescue and saved the family, but she couldn't risk putting the people she loved in danger. She'd head home after she went through Tommy's things.

  "Aunt Bri-i-it, make Dad get dressed so he can toss a few balls with me. I gotta warm up before the game." Alicia's uniform shone like new. The white shorts were bright enough for a detergent commercial and the shirt was fire engine red. The red visor topped sun-streaked, brown hair, which hung in a French braid. The shiny baseball glove wasn't a hand-me-down, either, and looked like it needed more seasoning.

  "Let me have a piece of toast and I'll be out with you." Brit gulped down a glass of orange juice.

  "Oh, I was hoping Dad would be out soon."

  "I'll be out in three minutes." Matt stood and stretched, then sauntered toward the basement apartment he and Alicia had shared for the past five years. "Aunt Brit throws pretty well for a girl."

  Brit snorted. "I throw well for a girl or boy."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lunch at one o'clock was rowdy, with the adults eating huge sandwiches while Alisha was too nervous to do more than nibble.

  "Can't you eat any faster? You'd think this was the last meal any of you'd ever have. Come on, I don't want to be late!"

  "We have plenty of time." Matt took another bite of his sandwich.

  Brit laughed when Matt grabbed the car keys and invited her to go with him and Alisha to the field. The kid nearly danced to all the way to the car.

  What would my life have been like if I'd stayed here to teach, instead of going to Florence? Would a crazy man have attacked me? Would she have met someone like Sam? Not likely.

  Shortly before two o'clock, brother and sister watched the excited twelve-year old race to the baseball field where four other red-shirted, pony-tailed girls, bounced in anticipation.

  By two o'clock, Brit stood stock still as Zeke stepped from his navy blue sports car. His auburn hair was windblown and his tan dark. His physique was nothing short of fantastic. The waist was slim but his shoulders and chest were anything but.

  He faced the girls on the field, his fists rested on his hips in a militant stance that stretched his red coach's shirt taut across his chest. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, making them unreadable, despite the determined set of his mouth and jaw. White shorts showed well-muscled, hair-dusted legs.

  The hero stood with the twelve admiring adolescents awaiting his instructions. Brit grinned and watched her old friend in the limelight. "Go get 'em Tiger," she muttered. Her grin stretched. She noticed him pause in his instructions, as carloads of blue-shirted girls invaded the home territory.

  The girls had barely left his side before the man was attacked by a female about to burst from her short halter-top and leaking cheek from her red shorts. That much cheek should never be seen on that end, especially in public. The gushy woman grabbed one arm, just as another woman reached for his other arm. He looked like a wishbone about to be pulled. They look at him like he's God's gift and it's Christmas.

  Zeke's auburn head raised.

  Brit held her breath.

  His hand rose to his glasses. Piercing blue eyes gazed over the tops. They stared for seconds, before grinning like long lost friends. They both waved and Brit moved toward the field when Zeke broke from his female bonds and strode toward the stands.

  He stuffed the glasses into his breast pocket.

  He swung her at a dizzying speed.

  Brit's arms wound around his neck.

  The kiss he planted on her lips caught her by surprise. He'd learned something in the past fifteen years. The man could really kiss. What else has he learned? He did have a crush on me and I was fond of him, and he's one sexy male.

  "Hi, stranger," a deep, husky voice whispered against her ear. "It's been a long time, too long, and I missed you."

  "You're a sight for sore eyes yourself!" Brit smiled. "Don't you think you should let me down, before the town has us married, or at least sleeping together?"

  "Good idea. Dad's a judge and could do the honors," Zeke teased. "Besides, if I let you down we could be embarrassed. I don't think my players will notice but an adult might."

  Knowing he referred to the arousal pushing against her, she grinned. "I'm sure every woman would, especially the two who were about to use you for a wishbone, but we can't stay like this all day. We'll stand here until things are back to normal."

  "See you after the game, Lady." His voice was rich with meaning as he saluted her by dipping the bill of his cap.

  Brit thought her face would never cool and was sure of it when she looked back to where Matt had been joined by the rest of her family. "Oh, my God!" She nearly fainted at the sight of the man standing beside her mama, fury in his green eyes.

  This can't be happening! What's he doing here? Can't I get away from him, for a few days? Maybe he's an apparition and will disappear if I close my eyes? She closed her eyes in desperation. Before she could count to five, she felt strong, warm, hands banding her arms.

  Sam's fury changed to concern. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "I have," Brit muttered. "How did you get here?"

  Sam's arm held her up while he steered her to the seats near her family. "Your mother told me you were here when I called last night. I couldn't believe you left town without telling me. Why didn't you call? I was worried sick about you."

  "Sam, between my attacker and the harassing threats I'm being smothered to death. I know you mean well, but you make me feel like I'm drowning. I worry about me. I worry about you."

  "I saw you and the jock." Sam's arm moved from her shoulder as he faced her. "I thought I'd explode when I saw him grab you. If your mother and sister hadn't stopped me, your niece would have needed a new coach."

  Her hands on hips pose mirrored his, as the two glared at each other. "Look, bub, just because we – you know – you don't own me and I'll not have you assaulting my friends. Hear me?"

  "I hear you. Everyone in the park probably hears you. You don'
t have to shout. I'm right here," Sam said quietly.

  "But you don't act like you hear me. I speak, but you don't seem to understand."

  "So I won't beat him up if he keeps his hands off you."

  "It's not up to you, you idiot. Besides, we're old friends who are glad to see each other after a long time. He took me to my high school prom and we haven't seen each other since we both went away to college."

  Sam's reasonable expression didn't fool her when he looked her in the eye. "That was not the kiss of a friend, honey. That man wanted to throw you down on the ground and screw you, right here and now."

  "You are so crude." She couldn't deny that since she had felt his stiffy, but she wouldn't give Sam the satisfaction of affirming his accusation. "Not all men think with their dicks. Zeke is a good man who cares for me as a friend, after all these years. You presume too much, Mr. Samuels, you just can't --"

  The sound of cheers and clapping signaled the entrance of the players on the field. The red shirts were in the dugout, except for the one player who stood bravely at home plate.

  The first inning ended with no runs. Sam and Brit forgot their argument to cheer Alicia's team. Brit forgot everything but the game, except when Zeke would sneak a glance in her direction. Funny how Sam seemed to anticipate those glances in time to grab her hand to stake his claim. Zeke had no way of knowing about Sam, unless her family had told him, and she could think of no reason for them to.

  It was the third inning, Alicia stood at bat. The Simpson family held a collective breath, as she swung hard at the first pitch. "Aw-w-w." The next pitch went as a ball. The third pitch made two balls and a strike. Every member of the family stood, except Brit's sister, Amber, who held one sleeping twin, while the other rested a curly blonde head on her thigh. On the next pitch Alicia swung. The thwack sent the crowd to their feet.

  "Go! Run, baby, run!" came from the bleachers, as the ball grounded past second base. By the time the ball was recovered and in the pitcher's hands, Alicia stood at second, brushing red dust from her shorts and her filthy leg. The ear-to-ear grin on the girl belied any pain she must have felt from the slide to beat the throw from first.

  "Do it, girl!" Brit hoped Alicia heard her.

  "That's my granddaughter!" Ellen jumped up and down, clutching Joe's arm for dear life.

  Sam and Matt slapped each other's backs, exchanging yells.

  Jared rose with the sleeping twin he'd grabbed.

  Amber half rose to her feet.

  There were no 'Tomahawk Chops' or 'Braves' chants, but there was enough yelling to be heard in Atlanta, more than a hundred miles away.

  They quieted as Zeke and the umpire looked to the stands to silence the crowd.

  A batter struck out for two, with a runner on second. When the next batter, a tall, slim blonde reached down to dust her hands and then spat in them, silence reigned, followed by pandemonium as she whacked the ball and raced toward first.

  "Go, Alicia!"

  "Run, Brenda!"

  "Move! Move!"

  The ball was overthrown. Brenda moved toward second base. Alicia hovered at third, ready to head home.

  Alicia looked toward the stands and the dugout as shouts of "Go! Go!" and "Stay! Stay!" roared through the stands. She watched the first baseman and a fielder scramble for the ball.

  The yell of "Go for it!" she heard in a man's booming voice, triggered her into action and she responded to it at a dead run. The ball was recovered then thrown wildly toward the pitcher, who caught it and threw it home as Alicia slid.

  The cheers of the crowd almost drowned the yell "Safe!" Brit clasped Sam's arm. He swung her around, then kissed her. Her pulse raced when Sam tried to obliterate any memory of the jock's kiss. It was one more in a long string of kisses she would need a lifetime or two to forget.

  When he finally ended the kiss, a dazed Brit was thankful no one appeared to notice anything but the girl being congratulated by her teammates. Brit removed her arms from their firm hold around his strong neck.

  During the fifth inning, Brenda homered. Alicia made no more runs but struck out only once. The game ended at three to two.

  Fifteen red visors were on the ground, as fifteen girls danced around the three players who scored runs. Zeke's auburn head stood above the crowd of screaming adolescents. His teeth flashed in the grin he hadn't relaxed since Brenda followed the runner she knocked in, to end the last at-bat for her team. Parents began to rush onto the field to hug or console.

  Brit broke away from Sam to congratulate her niece, who was passed from one hugging relative to another.

  Zeke's adoring fans whisked him away again.

  Brit just smiled at a jealous Sam

  "You'd think he made those runs himself. He looks like a peacock, preening and strutting for the audience."

  Brit smirked. "He's proud of his girls. Most of them are new and they just beat last year's champs. He was never a jock, by the way."

  "Humph!" He took Brit's arm and steered her toward the borrowed Lexus. He expected to take Brit and her horse-sized dog back with him. Esther, good sister that she was, had offered her nice car for his use. She drove his sports car, since she had her own truck and didn't need his. Trusting her with his high-powered, man's toy was only fair, but she'd probably have to flirt her way out of a dozen tickets since she knew only one speed: faster.

  Sam forgot to be jealous of the coach when Brit allowed him to take her home. She had really enjoyed the game. He guessed she'd needed to get away from her problems for a while. Her skin began to have that sun kissed look. He hadn't liked the way the jock had behaved worth a damn.

  "Sorry I yelled at you, darlin'." Sam glanced at Brit. He slapped the steering wheel with his palm. "I was worried. I panicked, pure and simple, but I can see you needed to get away from the craziness. I couldn't believe you'd go away from me."

  "I know. I should've let you know I was leaving town. I meant to call you last night. I wanted to pretend the other life didn't exist and life, here, was real for me. With my family, I feel safe. The rest of the threatening world seems so far away."

  "I forgive you, but don't ever scare me like that again. Kiss and make out?" He grinned.

  "Don't you mean kiss and make up?"

  "Were we fighting? Okay, let's do both."

  "You idiot." Brit laughed at his not so innocent expression. "Oh, I forgot to ask about Sean. Have you heard from him? How was his flight? Is he excited?"

  "Slow down, he had a good flight. He and another boy his age visited the whole way. He and his dad will be staying near Adrienne's parents' place. It seems the kid's mom died of cancer last year and this trip is the first time they've had to get away since she became ill, two years ago."

  "Poor baby!"

  "He's as old as Sean, honey."

  "Poor baby, losing his mother at any age. Alisha had a hard time when her mom died and she a little younger than that boy."

  "Guess you're right. Sean would be devastated if anything happened to Adrienne."

  "And you?"

  "It would be like losing a dear friend." Sam glanced at her. "But we'd have you to help us, wouldn't we?"

  "Yeah. And your wonderful family."

  "Maybe we can persuade his dad to visit this summer."

  Soon they arrived at the Simpson home where the rest of Brit's family joined them, except for Alicia and her dad who had joined the victory celebration, a round of ice cream and drinks. Everyone noisily discussed plans for Sunday dinner at the Simpson's favorite restaurant.

  "Sam, will you be staying in town tonight?" Amber gave him a pointed look.

  "He didn't come all this way just to leave right away. He's anxious to spend some time with your sister. You will stay, won't you?" Ellen asked.

  "Mama, I'm sure Sam is too busy to stay," Brit ignored her mother's puzzled expression.

  "I'd love to stay, but I won't put you out, ma'am," Sam grinned smugly at Brit. "I appreciate your offer. Treat me like family. I'll be glad to help with
any chores."

  "Then you'd better behave like family," Amber frowned, "We try to get out of doing chores."

  Sam really liked Brit's family. They reminded him of his own. "I'll help enough to make a good impression."

  Brit grabbed her plate and headed to the kitchen. "I'll put my plate in the sink and then slip upstairs and shower some of the dust off."

  "I'll help," Sam called after her. "I can scrub your back and save water."

  "No," Brit returned to the table to swat his arm. "My mother wouldn't like it. Help her, or get ready for your own shower."

  "If your mother needs help with her shower I'll help her, but I thought that was your daddy's job. Won't he mind?" Sam just loved to bait Brit and watch her get her back up. He owed her a grave conversation about the last two messages on her answering machine. They also needed to discuss Drew's theory that her husband's death had something to do with her recent attacks. They'd have a serious talk soon.

  "You're incorrigible. Go talk to Daddy and behave." Brit headed upstairs. .

  * * * *

  Teacher, teacher, where's the stupid teacher? Is she spreading her legs for the daddy? She hadn't spread her legs for Douglas. Douglas is good looking. Douglas can please the ladies. Douglas can show the stuck up teacher what a real man's like.

  Douglas hums … Five steps right and five steps forward. One step left and two steps back. Four steps right and five steps forward. Two steps left and one step back. The jail cell dance, his own creation. The others don't know my dance.

  Douglas must kill the bitch! Douglas hates being cooped up in a Hellhole of a prison cell with the riff-raff and the dregs of society, the small time crooks, not even one lawyer or stockbroker to keep him company! This place is not dark, like the closet Douglas hated, but he needs to get away or he'll go crazy. Douglas will get out and make the teacher ver-r-y sorry!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Brit hummed, brushing her fingers through her hair, while she dried it in her room. She stared through half closed eyes at an image in the mirror. Tommy had always loved to watch her dry her hair. He'd offer to help her and wind up helping her into bed. She smiled. Strangely, her memories made her feel more comfortable than sad.