by Cait Jarrod
“Honey. Is that any way to act toward the father of your son?”
Henry squirmed and shifted closer to his grandmother, his eyes sad. Her happy little boy, who’d made a hundred percent recovery after the abduction, looked more scared of his father than he had that awful day. What had Andrew said before she’d arrived? “Did you threaten him?”
“Char, come on. I wouldn’t dare.” Andrew covered Henry’s hand with his. “We’re having a great time, aren’t we, kiddo?”
Henry’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t move.
Her mother clasped Henry’s waist and pulled him closer.
Charlene knew Andrew’s ploy. In one simple move, he conveyed he had controlled what would happen to Henry if she didn’t heed. “Answer my question,” she said, taking Andrew’s focus off her trembling son.
Andrew stood so quickly the chair fell backwards, spilling milk over the brim of the glass and making Doris and Henry flinch, but not her. She stepped a foot away from the side of the table, hit the bat against her hand, and met his glare.
“You won’t use that on me,” Andrew stormed. “If you try, I’ll beat the shit out of you with it.” Spit sprinkled her face.
With all the indignant, hateful acts Andrew had committed in the past, he’d never threatened or hit her. The menacing look in his expression said this time was different. She caught her mother’s eyes then slid her gaze to the door, trying to tell them to leave without Andrew realizing. If Doris and Henry walked quietly, they could get out the back door before Andrew noticed. “What do you want?” she asked, to lure Andrew’s attention away from them.
He stepped around the table and raised his hand as if to touch her face. She tipped her head backwards, out of his reach. With her glare fixed on him, she raised the bat behind her, ready to hit Andrew like a softball. He used his son as a bargaining chip…a pawn. No dad behaves that way. He was fair game.
Doris slipped the keys from the table, grasped Henry’s hand, and moved toward the door. It creaked when it opened. Andrew twisted to look.
“What’s it gonna be?” she asked before he noticed they’d left. “Want to challenge me?”
Please say yes.
Freeing her body and mind from the pent-up anger with the bat hitting a part of Andrew’s body would be criminal and disgusting, yet therapeutic.
He squared his shoulders and faced her. “You were never a challenge. You came easily when we were together.”
The ‘I’m master of the universe’ grin he plastered on his face was disgusting. He thought she’d loved their intimate time together. In the beginning, when she conceived Henry, she had. After that, he changed. She pretended to enjoy their time in hopes to halt his verbal abuse.
She laughed. “You’re so gullible. Didn’t you ever wonder how I got off so quick? Think about it. It wasn’t because I was so enamored of you. I wanted to eradicate your presence as quickly as I could. How better than to fake an orgasm, so you’d follow suit and get the hell off me.” His glare turned dark. He was close to the boiling point. She pushed a little more. “I played you. You’re not the charismatic lover you thought.” She fought with fire and didn’t care. Let him bring it on.
“Bullshit. You’re not that good of an actress. You’re not good at anything.”
“By your own admission, I am…I was.”
He lifted his head and looked down his nose at her.
She pushed his buttons and expected him to come after her. Instead, he regarded her as if deciphering what she said.
“I’ll prove how good we are together.”
No!
The etched lines in his face turned soft, a glint of desire passing over his gaze.
One too many times, she laid with him, not wanting to ever again. Her shaky legs moved backwards. She hated that she showed a sign of weakness and reached behind her to touch the counter to steady her nerves.
The curve of his lips repulsed her.
A step closer, and the scent of his aftershave drifted. The manly scent that once excited her now made her nauseated. “Chicken?” he asked, his voice low and seductive.
The iron-clad resolve she developed after he left shot forward. Adrenaline gave her the courage and strength she needed. “Take another step and I’ll swing.”
“Really? Bet ya won’t.” He moved.
She swung.
He caught the bat. The expression on his face grew fierce. She raised her knee, ready to knock his package into next week.
He shifted, snatched the bat, and shoved her to the wall. Cold metal pressed against her windpipe. She grasped the bat to push it off her throat. He held firm.
Her heart boomed, tripping in her chest and flooding her eardrums. The air in her lungs swooshed. Her vision blurred.
“Stop,” she wheezed.
“Here’s the deal,” he hissed and eased the pressure off her neck a tad. “I want the money from the award. You give it to me or never see Henry again.”
“Money,” she puffed. “You threaten your son’s welfare over money?”
The pressure returned. She sputtered.
“Don’t be a fool, Charlene.”
The only option she had was to agree in hopes he’d remove the weight. She nodded.
“That’s my girl.” He backed up a step and held the bat at his side like a club. “See, kiddo, your mother isn’t unreasonable like you thought.”
Charlene waited for him to realize Henry and Doris had escaped.
“You don’t want to live with a weak parent, do you? You could have a better life with me,” Andrew said. “I would protect you. Not let someone take you from my home.”
When gang members had abducted her son, they’d also beaten her mother. All this time, Charlene thought Andrew hadn’t known the kidnapping details. The monetary award was a detail easy to find out. The case had been publicized in the local newspapers.
Andrew was scum. She’d never realized to what extent until this moment. His son had been in danger, yet he hadn’t come to see him…until now, when he wanted their money. What kind of sick person was he?
Andrew peered over his shoulder toward the kitchen table. His jaw went slack along with his grip on the bat.
Bingo!
She snatched it, backed toward the counter, glimpsed at the driveway through the window above the sink. The car was gone.
They’re safe.
“You bitch! You’ll regret this,” Andrew snapped.
The venomous tone, at one time, would have had her withering. But not anymore. “Pig!”
He charged toward her, eyes wild, nostrils flaring.
She swung, faking high and going low. The bat connected with his stomach.
“Fuck,” he puffed and clutched his gut. “You’ll pay.” He straightened and snatched the butcher knife from the block on the counter.
Crap!
The shiny blade glistened above his head.
It was her or him. She dug deep, seizing strength from all the wrongs Andrew had inflicted on her family, fortifying her with the power for what she needed to do. She raised the bat behind her head and went for the homerun...for her...her mother...and most importantly, her son. She struck his arm. Bones cracked. The knife flew out of his hand. He stumbled backwards, holding his wrist, and fell backwards into the wall. She raised it again, aiming for his head.
The bastard’s Henry’s father, her conscience screamed.
At the last second, she pulled back and clobbered him square in the ribs.
Yelping, he collapsed on the floor. “You bitch!”
She lowered her hand, clasping the handle, ready to swing. “Not another word. Get the hell out of my house!”
“I’ll be back!”
She raised the bat. “You asked for it.”
“No!” He held up his good hand and sidestepped.
Jerking back, she readied for him to come after her.
He didn’t. He hobbled toward the foyer. A second later, the door slammed against the jamb.
Cha
rlene slumped against the counter and sucked in deliberate breaths, slowing her pulse. Her world spun and exhaustion plagued her muscles.
A loud crash sounded. She gripped the edge of the counter and rose to peek out the window. Andrew swung a bat at the hood of Jake’s car and left a dent in the fender.
“No…no…no,” she chanted, racing out the door.
Andrew jumped into his car in the neighbor’s driveway and left, tires squealing. She looked at Jake’s prize Chevelle, his baby, and wanted to throw up. The hood and fender, dented. The windshield and grill was cracked. The rearview mirrors hung by wires. She didn’t know much about cars, let alone the year of this one, but knew it was a classic. Finding parts to repair the antique car would be a hardship. Seeing the damage would tear Jake up. Hollowness invaded her. Once again, she brought grief to the BOFs.
Sirens sounded in the distance. A moment later, blue lights streamed across the landscape. Her mom had called the police––not the local police, the FBI––namely, Larry.
He hopped out, didn’t pay much attention to the damaged car, and rushed toward her. His hands roamed over her head and shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
Physically she wasn’t, but inside she was as beaten as the car. “No.”
“Ah, babe.” He exhaled, slid his arms around her, and held her like a precious gem. She relaxed into him, absorbed his comfort and warmth, and fisted his shirt. The edginess she possessed in Andrew’s presence diminished. Tears stung her eyes.
“You’re safe,” he whispered with the same tenderness in his voice she’d heard when he helped her and Henry after the kidnapping. For a brief moment, Charlene wondered if he used the same voice whenever he consoled victims, but then, he tightened his embrace. His breath releasing on a ragged sound showed he cared…for her.
She flattened her palm against his hard chest, wished she could touch his skin, and settled for searching his eyes. The sweet man gazed back. Unlike earlier, he didn’t shield his emotions. They were written all over his face. So much so, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him. Their mouths mated, revealing what they wanted to do in a more intimate setting. The tug in her groin scooted her hips into his. She wanted to climb his body, feel him filling her.
He grasped her arms. “Babe,” he said on a puff of air. “Not here, not now. Not when you’re on emotional overload.”
Charlene pulled her lips inward and recoiled. The sexual fog had her thinking irrationally. He was right, not here, not now, not…just not. Emotional overload had her acting crazy. Embarrassed, she shifted and watched the approaching car. Steve and Jake sprung out of a vehicle.
She stiffened. Larry slid a comforting arm behind her back.
“Charlene.” Pamela hurried from a red car parked in front of her house and hugged her.
She appreciated Pamela’s support, yet sadness weighed heavily. She stepped back.
Larry went to Jake, who surveyed the damage.
“Son of a bitch!” Jake yelled.
“He’s blowing off steam,” Pamela said, placing a hand on Charlene’s arm. “He’s not mad at you,”
“I screw up everything.” She gave a defeated sigh and approached Jake, ready to meet the consequences.
His stern gaze stayed on his car, his face a deep red.
“I’m so sor-ry.” Charlene’s voice broke. Her energy left with the last swing she inflicted on Andrew. If that hadn’t done it, Jake’s anguished expression would have. He’d done so much to help her, and this was how she repaid him?
The crinkles around the corners of Jake’s eyes softened. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “There’s no reason for you to apologize. I’m glad you’re okay.”
He locked gazes with Pamela. A silent conversation passed between them before he gave a weak smile. Pamela returned it.
She’d love to know another person so well that thoughts were relayed telepathically…
“Hey.” Steve drew her into his chest. “Celine couldn’t make it.,” No one was available to work at Fredericksburg Tourist. She mentioned, she’d kick everyone out and would close the store early if you wanted her to.”
“There’s no reason. The word spread like wildfire, huh?” Charlene gave a weak smile.
“Yep. It’s what we BOFs do. Larry called Jake for back-up. Jake phoned me and Pamela, and so on. You get the picture. ”
Charlene nodded. The family the BOFs gifted her, Henry, and her mother with was irreplaceable. She cherished it and hated anyone or anything that tried to come between them or cause them harm.
Jake crouched, examining the car’s broken grill before he lifted the hood. “The radiator is busted!”
“Andrew will pay,” she pledged under her breath.
“Be careful,” Larry said, stepping beside her. “He’s dangerous.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me what to do again?”
Larry shook his head and ran a hand down his face. When he dropped it, he looked weary. “How can you be sweet one minute and so defensive the next?” He held up his hands. “Never mind, I get it.” He pulled her against him and kissed her lips. “You have my number.”
She nodded, folded her arms under her chest, and gazed unfocused across the street. The bitch in her came out twofold when it came to Larry, like a defense mechanism. His sweetness and the desire she had for him scared her, causing the worst in her to surface.
Larry started his Suburban. The back and forth emotional stuff between them grew old fast.
Her body wanted him. Her psyche fought it. She had an accepting inner voice and a scared one. The positive one insisted she stop him. The negative, afraid side, demanded she protect herself and let him go, not allowing anyone in to her personal space to witness her feelings.
The scared side won. In the past, her kind disposition had caved too many times. Look where that kind of behavior got her…fighting her ex-husband with a baseball bat.
She slid her gaze to Larry. Look at me, she willed ,let me know you genuinely care.
He waved and winked.
Warmth radiated over her body and she smiled.
The tension she experienced seconds ago evaporated. She struggled to find her own balance with life. Life’s burdens rained down, threatening to destroy the last bit of strength and willpower she had.
And him…well, she didn’t know what was up. As charming as he was, she believed a checkered past motivated his possessiveness and need to tell her what to do. She recalled the discarded lingerie purchase in her foyer and hoped Larry would return later to pursue ‘kick off.’
“Mommy…mommy.” Henry bumped into her legs.
She spotted her mother’s car beside Pamela’s as she smiled at Henry. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Mommy, where’d Daddy go?”
“I’m not sure.”
Her mom approached. When Henry moved off to hug the BOF’s members, Doris asked, “Was Andrew arrested?”
“He was gone by the time they arrived.”
Doris stretched her arm around Charlene and gazed at the car. “I wonder if Andrew has any idea the wrath he set forth today. Not only did he come after a good friend of these men, but he damaged Jake’s car.” Doris shook her head. “Andrew will wish they’d arrested him.”
Charlene watched Jake, talking to Steve and Pamela. What her mother said was true. Andrew would pay, but not at the hands of her friends. They’d been through enough because of her. She snatched the bat Andrew used to damage the car from the pavement. “I’ll handle it.”
Doris gasped.
Chapter Nine
Parked in an empty driveway in Charlene’s subdivision a block from her house, Mathews punched the dashboard, a bucket of fury slamming into the center of his chest. To the right of the steering wheel, the hard material cracked and fishtailed a line to the glove compartment. “Goddamn it!”
Pain stung his knuckles, matching the throbbing in his left hand, the burn over his bruised ribs, and the ache in his heart. Charlene swinging a metal bat at him
had been a setback in his plan for a happy family.
When she struck his wrist, ligaments popped. He knew his bride could play ball. He’d just never thought about how hard she could swing. Her newly acquired aggression was another item to add to his, ‘Why I hate the fucking Band of Friends’ list.
A black Suburban approached, and Mathews ducked down in the seat before ‘big fuzz’ saw him. Discovery would ruin his chances to win Charlene.
Surprising her by having milk and cookies with Henry, Mathews assumed she’d remember what they once had before he left. He expected she’d ask him to stay with open arms and a warm bed. The bat in her hand told him differently. Immediately, he devised a new plan to wiggle his way into her life and pushed aside the image of her hot body wrapped around his...for now.
Getting off wasn’t his issue, Rona’s petite hands did the job perfectly. She’d proven it last night when she showed up at the manor unexpectedly. He’d escorted her to his secret room and banged her until she could no longer stand. Letting Rona into his world, even just a little, was more than he wanted. She’d become a liability. One that he’d use to his advantage, until she no longer had a purpose. Blowing her brains out didn’t set well. Nope, he’d dispose of her with a little more grace than what he had planned for the big fuzz.
A lethal dose of the Columbian herb ‘devil’s breath’ would do the trick. He knew just the place—in the babbling spring below the barn. Rona often cupped a hand in the clear liquid to drink the water whenever she had the chance.
Andrew scooted against the back of the seat until he could see out the windshield.
Charlene walked into the house, carrying Henry, his head resting on her shoulder. An emptiness filled Mathews’s chest. He missed his family. Only one more day before big fuzz and his partner would be out of the picture, and he could claim his family again.
The Black Scorpions were due to arrive. The rattlesnake traps he set failed. He’d use the posthole digger to construct the holes for anyone who thought they’d try to take over the operation. The added snakes told the Impalers he was not a man to cross.
