Every Tear You Cry (Redeeming Love Book 4)

by J. E. Parker

  Both boys face lit up.

  Boom, boom, boom!

  “I want chocolate oat—” Declan snapped his mouth shut when someone pounded their heavy fist against the apartment door.

  All three of us froze.

  Wide-eyed, I lifted my hand and pressed a single finger to my lips in a silent plea for them to stay quiet. Declan nodded in understanding, but Liam huffed out an annoyed breath. Legs numb, I crept toward the door while praying that the person standing on the other side wasn’t my landlord.

  Deep down, I knew it was.

  Only Hope would show up this early, and she’d never bang on my door like she was the dang police ready to serve a search warrant. She would use the key I’d given her and walk right in.

  Before I could reach the door, three more hard knocks sounded. Then, “Open the door, Clara. I know you’re in there. I heard one of your boys talkin’.”

  Liam dropped the bread to the small end table beside him, and rushed forward, his hands fisted at his sides. “Don’t answer it, Mama,” he said, glaring at the door. “Dickie is a creep.”

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  Dickie, our lecherous-eyed landlord, was a creep. With greasy, slicked back hair, waxy looking skin, yellow teeth, and enough body odor to make a feral dog barf, the fifty-something-year-old pervert was the epitome of a walking, talking sleazeball. That he’d been kind enough—yeah right—to offer me an alternative method to pay my rent only added to my dislike for him.

  And by alternative method, I mean sex.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  Still, despite how much I hated Dickie and the many advances he’d made toward me, what pissed me off most was knowing I likely wasn’t the only person he’d made such an offer. The complex where I lived was low income, and my neighbors consisted of broke college students, struggling single parents, and disabled tenants. Thinking he may have used his managerial position as leverage to twist their arms like he’d tried to do with me made my insides boil with rage.

  Because of my past, I had zero, and I mean zero, tolerance for men who used their power to hurt others. I didn’t care if I had to face Dickie head on all by myself, I would. I’d faced demons, one in particular, more insidious than him before.

  Dickie slammed his fist against the door three more times.

  Each hit was harder than the last.

  Boom, boom, boom!

  I stopped walking when Liam’s fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Mama.” His voice shook the slightest bit. “Please don’t open it. I don’t like that man.”

  Declan sidled up next to his older brother. “I don’t either,” he whispered, his voice filled with fear. “He’s scary. Just like—”

  Nope. We aren’t going there. Not now. Not ever.

  I may have allowed thoughts of my abusive ex-husband to invade my mind when I was in a dark mood, but I wouldn’t let the boys think about him. Thanks to therapy and living in a stable home—even if we’re broke—they’d made so much progress in the last two years. I fully intended for the monster who helped create them to stay where he was supposed to—in the past.

  I bent at the waist and pressed a finger to Declan’s lips, cutting off his words. “Don’t, baby,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. “We don’t talk about him, remember?” His chin wobbled as he nodded. Needing to comfort him and Liam both, I squatted and placed a hand on each of their sides, allowing the heat from my hands to bleed into their bodies “Remember what I told you when we came here? What happened in the past stays in the past, okay?”

  A single tear slid down Declan’s right cheek, making my gut twist.

  “Listen, sweet boy,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I swear on my life I won’t let anyone hurt us again. Not Dickie, not some stranger walking down the street, no one. Do you understand me?”

  Neither boy spoke, but I could see the wheels in their heads turning as they digested my words.

  Dickie banged on the door again, but I ignored him. At that moment my boys needed me, and they would always come first. Never again would I bow to a man’s will. I’d been weak enough to make that mistake before, and it cost my boys and me dearly.

  I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  From now on, I make the rules.

  I took a calming breath. “I know I haven’t been that strong in the past, but things are different now. I’m not weak anymore. Mama has got this, guys,” I said, confidently. “Trust me.”

  A heavy silence fell over us, and I grew more nervous with each second that ticked by. I wanted—no, I needed—my sons to believe in me. Thinking they may not trust me to keep us safe killed me inside. Their distrust was warranted, but it still hurt. Badly.

  I dropped my head, hiding the tears that filled my eyes.

  My heart hurt. Literally hurt.

  We’d been free of Colin’s sadistic clutches for almost three years, and yet his ghost still had a firm hold on each of us. It made me sick, and I wondered if we’d ever be free of him. A dark spot in the back of my mind, the same place where I’d locked every twisted and painful memory, doubted it.

  The past will always linger.

  “I trust you, Mom,” Liam assured me, cupping my cheek. “I know you’ll keep us safe.”

  Relief washed through me as I fought to keep the tears at bay.

  “Me too,” Declan added. “I still don’t like Dickie though. He’s yucky.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on touching him.” I winked and slid my fingers through Declan’s dark hair. “I don’t want to get cooties.”

  Boom, boom, boom!

  “Clara, open the door. If you don’t, I’ll use my master key to get inside.”

  Liam’s eyes widened while rage flooded my veins.

  Oh. Hell. No.

  I stood and pointed toward the back of the small apartment. “You two go to your room and stay there until I come and get you, okay?”

  Both nodded in agreement and turned to walk away. Liam, however, stopped short of his door and peered over his shoulder. “If you need me just yell real loud, Mama. I won’t let anyone hurt you either,” he said, repeating my words from moments earlier. “Never again.”

  My chest swelled with pride as my gut continued to twist in knots.

  Liam had always been protective of Declan and me, but since escaping his father, he’d only grown more determined to keep us safe. I was so proud of him, but it broke my heart he felt the need to protect us to begin with. That wasn’t a burden he needed to carry at his age.

  And it was all my fault.

  If I had hadn’t been so damn weak…

  I took another steadying breath. “Go to your room, sweet boy…”

  … Before I fall apart.

  “I’ll come get you once I get rid of Dickie.”

  Liam jerked his chin down once in affirmation. “Okay.”

  Without speaking another word, he turned and disappeared into the small bedroom he shared with Declan. His bed frame creaked as he climbed onto the mattress, no doubt listening for any sign of distress.

  I wiped away the tears clouding my vision with the back of my hands. I didn’t want to face the perv standing on the other side of the door with tear-filled eyes. If I did, he’d likely see it as a weakness and try to exploit it.

  He was a scumbag like that.

  After peeking at the boys’ room one last time, I headed to the door.

  Dickie slid his key into the lock just as I wrapped my fingers around the knob.

  My anger, along with my blood pressure, shot through the roof.

  Plastering on my best bitch face, I disengaged the deadbolt, unlatched the chain, and yanked the door open. I scowled when Dickie’s pock-marked face appeared in front of me. “This is your only warning, Dickie,” I snapped in an aggressive tone. “If you ever try to enter my apartment uninvited again, I will turn you from a rooster to a hen without a second thought.” The jerk’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. “And don’t you ever bang on
my dang door like that again unless the building is on fire. Got it?”

  Dickie’s jaw ticked. “Your rent is overdue”—his eyes flitted past me and into the apartment—"I’m here to collect it."

  “Well, I don’t have it.” Anger bled into my voice. “So you can leave.”

  I stepped back, prepared to slam the door in his ugly face, but before I could, he shoved his booted foot into the threshold, stopping me. His vomit-inducing glare dipped to my breasts before sliding further south to my rounded hips. “If you ain’t got the money, then me and you need to work somethin’ out.”

  Bile crept up my esophagus at what he was implying.

  I was moments away from barfing all over him.

  Determined to remain composed, I leaned against the door.

  Appear unaffected, I told myself. Don’t give him power over you.

  “Sure thing, Dickie.” I forced a brief smile. “So, you want to make a deal, huh?”

  He nodded and licked his lower lip.

  “Well,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet, “here’s the only deal I’m willing to make...”

  I hardened my features and added a mega dose of bitchiness to my tone. “If you leave right this second, I promise not to call the housing authority and report you as a piece of crap slumlord who enjoys sexually harassing his tenants”—my hand twitched with the urge to smack him—"even though it’s clear that is exactly what you are."

  “You can’t—” He started.

  “I can,” I barked, cutting him off, “and I will.” Dickie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I am not the type of woman who will roll over and give in to your pervy demands, jackass. So stop trying.”

  I added a healthy dose of starch to my spine and stood tall.

  I wouldn’t allow him to think he was intimidating me.

  My days of cowering and submitting were over.

  “Unless you’ve got the money, you ain’t got no other way out, Clara,” Dickie said, seeming unaffected by my threat. “Face it, foxy, the only thing standing between you and eviction is me.”

  Foxy? Seriously?

  He was lucky I didn’t knee him in the nuts for calling me that.

  “Listen, you sick freak”—I leaned forward—“I will haul my rear-end to the nearest strip club and dry hump a pole before I let your STD infested dick anywhere near me.”

  Dickie spit on the ground by my feet.

  I fought my knee-jerk reaction to recoil.

  I will not cower, I will not falter.

  “You stupid cu—”

  Dickie snapped his mouth shut when a deep baritone—one which I recognized—barked, “Finish that fucking sentence, and I’ll finish you,” from behind him.

  I leaned to the side and peered around the creep standing in front of me, searching for the source of the voice. When my eyes landed on none other than Evan Morgan, a huge grin spread across my face. Beside him stood Hope, and in her arms was their three-week-old son, Ryker.

  My inner bitch jumped with joy at the sight of Evan, while the part of me that still feared men, particularly unstable ones like Dickie, sighed in relief.

  Evan is here. I’m safe now.

  “Perfect timing, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” I said to Evan. “I’ve got an issue you may be able to help with.”

  Evan’s eyes flared with anger as he glowered at Dickie and crossed his arms over his massive chest. His biceps bulged as his face twisted into something akin to murderous rage. “Start talking, Clara,” he demanded. “Now.”

  “Oh, happily.” My voice was filled with glee. “This here is Dickie Barnhardt”—I pointed right at the creep’s face—“he’s my landlord and we’ll, he’s trying to extort me.”

  Evan’s featured hardened further. “How?”

  “By offering sex for free rent.”

  “Motherfucker…” Evan’s voice trailed off as he shook his head, fighting for control of his raging temper. If he couldn’t get a handle on it, then Dickie would end up as nothing more than a greasy spot on the floor.

  In front of me, Dickie shook like a leaf.

  I didn’t blame him.

  If our roles were reversed, I would’ve been terrified too.

  Evan was a big guy with hard, albeit handsome, features. Even when he wasn’t pissed off—like now—he didn’t look friendly. It was the reason I’d feared him for so long after meeting him at the shelter. However, after getting to know him, I realized that he was one of the kindest people I’d ever met.

  Having said that, if you tried to hurt someone he loved, you were screwed.

  A former Marine, Evan was lethal when he needed to be.

  Colin had learned that lesson the hard way.

  Stop thinking about him! The voice in my head shouted.

  Fighting to overcome the dark memories and residual fear that appeared whenever I thought of Colin, I focused on Evan as he stepped in front of Hope and Ryker. He used his body to shield both from Dickie’s view and growled, “Move the hell away from Clara.” His anger-laced voice sounded terrifying. “Right the fuck now.”

  Dickie couldn’t move fast enough.

  Watching him almost trip over his own feet in his haste to get away was comical. He was so terrified I expected him to pee his pants at any moment. Heck, he may have. I wouldn’t have known. The rancid body odor rolling off him in waves would’ve masked the stench of urine.

  It was that bad.

  Evan’s eyes never left the sleazeball as he asked me, “Did he hurt you?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “If he had, I would’ve clawed his eyeballs out.” It was the truth. Never again would I allow someone, especially a man, to lay their uninvited hands on me without retaliating. I’d been there, done that. I refused to do it again.

  Hope giggled at my response.

  Evan, however, wasn’t so amused.

  He stepped to the side and placed his hand on Hope’s lower back. He then nodded toward my apartment. “Take Ry inside, baby. Soon as Dickie and I have a little chat, I’ll come in.”

  Hope stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his stubble-covered jaw. “Behave, Big Guy,” she said. “I need you at home tonight, not in the county jail.”

  Evan pulled his gaze from Dickie and ran his fingers down the side of a sleeping Ryker’s face. “Take my son inside, Little Bit.”

  My heart melted watching them.

  “Take care of them for me, yeah?” Evan asked me.

  “Always,” I stated simply. “Hope may be your fiancée, but she’s my best friend. I’ll always take care of her and little Ry.”

  Just like she’d always taken care of me.

  I pushed my apartment door open wide and stepped to the side so Hope could come in. Once she cleared the threshold, I took one last peek at a livid looking Evan and a terrified-looking Dickie. “Good luck, Dickie,” I said, amusement lining my voice. “Lord knows you’re going to need it.”

  Without saying another word, I shut the door.

  Clara

  I sighed in contentment as I held a sleeping Ryker against my chest. Running my fingers through his curly black hair, I smiled down at him, my heart full. He was such a beautiful baby, the perfect mixture of Evan and Hope, and I loved him so much.

  My bliss-filled moment, however, was shattered moments later when Evan stepped inside the apartment, his face twisted in anger. Upon his entrance, the air shifted, becoming thicker. Heavier. The rage consuming him was palpable.

  This will not end well.

  After shutting the door, his rage-filled eyes found mine.

  “You didn’t kill Dickie, did you?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “If so, what did you do with his body? I hope you didn’t throw it in the dumpster. It’ll stink up the entire complex.”

  Evan ignored both questions.

  “You’re moving. I mean it, Clara. I don’t want you anywhere near that scumbag out there,” he snapped, pointing at the door. “That son of a bitch has a master key to every door in t
his building, and I don’t give a flying fuck if I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming, you’re leaving.”

  Despite knowing Evan meant well, my temper flared.

  His words, along with the finality of his tone struck a raw nerve.

  I sat straight, held his gaze, and embraced the defiance that rolled through my veins. With every single cell in my body screaming at me to stand my ground and fight back against his highhandedness, it was a miracle I kept calm.

  Somehow, I did.

  The way I felt was ridiculous because in my heart I knew Evan wasn’t trying to be a controlling dick. Still, my panties twisted into one heck of a knot.

  “Evan,” I said through gritted teeth. “Don’t tell me what I will do.”

  His jaw ticked. “You’re not staying here. Not as long as that mother fu—”

  He snapped his mouth shut, glancing toward the boys’ bedroom where they played, waiting for me to give them the okay to come out. After coming inside minutes earlier, I’d asked them to stay in their room a little longer. I’d known Evan would have something to say about Dickie, and I didn’t want them involved in it.

  They’d seen enough confrontation to last a lifetime.

  They didn’t need to see anymore.

  Evan studied my face for a moment before dropping his gaze to the floor and blowing out a breath. He must’ve realized I was teetering on the edge of losing it because when he looked back up, he appeared calmer, his eyes less harsh.

  “I’m not trying to control you, Clara.” His voice was soft. “But you can’t expect me to sit by and allow you and the boys to remain in a dangerous situation.” He took a few steps forward, closing the gap between us. Then he squatted, bringing us eye-to-eye. “Listen, Red. I love your crazy ass like a sister, and you know I love those boys like they’re my own. I’ll be damned if I let something happen to any of you.”

  All my fight flew out the window.

  Zapped of energy, my shoulders slumped forward. “I can’t move, Evan.” Embarrassment stained my cheeks as I moved my gaze over to Hope. Her sweet smile comforted me, making it easier to voice my troubles. “Dickie was harassing me because I’m a month late on my rent. If I can’t pay that, how am I supposed to come up with enough cash to move?” A humorless chuckle spilled from my lips. “Though, I guess I won’t have a choice soon since we’re on the brink of being evicted.”