by Leslie North
“For the last time,” she said, her tone bristling with anger. “I am not your property. Neither is my son. You might be his father biologically, but you’ll never be true family to him. Try to come after us again and I’ll blow your brains out.” She leaned in closer just as the cops raced into the room. “And I won’t miss, motherfucker.”
“Drop your weapon!” one of the cops shouted and Leila immediately complied. The officers frisked her and Clint and Mike, then got the full story. Leila explained that she’d come home to clean the place out before leaving for Puerto Rico this afternoon. Mike had showed up and threatened to kill her and Thomas if she tried to leave him. With each word, Clint’s gut knotted tighter. With each word, his pride in Leila also grew. Being confident shooting a paper target at a gun range was one thing. Having the balls to take down a human when necessary was something else entirely. Damn.
She was the bravest woman he’d ever known. He’d come here to save her, but she’d saved herself.
“All right, on your feet,” the second cop said to Mike after slapping a pair of handcuffs on him. “You’re coming with us. Your parole officer’s meeting us at the station.”
Mike snarled and struggled against the cops holding him, but it was finally over.
Clint answered the cops’ questions as well, then showed them ID to prove his identity. When he’d finally been cleared, he walked over to where Leila stood near the corner, rocking Thomas in her arms.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his body still humming with energy. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered, her face buried in Thomas’s hair. “I’m sorry I left earlier. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“It’s all right.” He wanted to hold her and comfort her but stopped himself. This wasn’t the time or the place. Clint glanced over to find the crime scene techs arriving. “You were amazing.”
Leila snorted, then kissed the top of her son’s head. “A mother’s love is the strongest force on earth. Don’t ever try to harm my child.”
“Point taken,” Clint said. “And understood.”
The cops escorted Mike out of the apartment and loaded him into the back of a squad car beside the guy Clint had disabled earlier then left the scene.
Clint looked back at Leila. “Do you need a ride to the station?”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, her gaze locked on her son. “I’ll go with the officers.”
His gut clenched, but Clint nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you there then.” He watched her walk out with one of the cops, Thomas still in her arms. Clint followed behind, feeling more alone than he ever had before and knowing he had no right to expect anything more. Leila was a strong, independent woman. It was one of the things he loved most about her. But if she didn’t need him, could he go back to his life alone?
A few weeks ago, he’d have said hell yes. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Leila finished up her interview with the police about two hours later and went to find Thomas, who was being watched by yet another officer. So much had happened in the last few hours that her head was still spinning. At least Mike was back behind bars where he belonged. And Clint…
She sighed and stopped, leaning against the wall in the brightly-lit hallway. That problem remained unsolved. She was grateful he’d shown up after the way she’d bailed on him, but she’d seen the hurt and anger banked in his blue eyes back at the apartment. Knowing his past and how she’d left, Leila didn’t expect him to forgive her for leaving the way she did.
Maybe that was for the best though. Her life was still a mess at the moment, even with Mike out of the picture. Clint deserved a woman without all her baggage, someone unencumbered by a kid and a past and a million other things that made Leila totally unsuitable for him.
No. Leaving was for the best. What had happened at the apartment only reinforced that. Seeing him in danger and knowing she was the cause of it had been too much to bear. No. She needed to get away for a bit, take some time to think and figure out what was best for her son. Perhaps a trip to see her mother in Puerto Rico was in order after all. She’d just pulled out her phone and brought up her favourite travel site to scroll through the ticket prices when another door opened at the other end of the hall.
Mike was led out of an interrogation room and toward a sign that read Temporary Lock Up. One of the officers headed in Leila’s direction to fill her in on what would happen next.
“Don’t worry,” the cop said. “He’ll be put away for a while this time. In addition of violating his parole, when we searched his car we found a boatload of drugs.”
“I want my attorney,” Mike shouted, just before he disappeared around the corner. “We can work a deal. I’ll tell you what I know about the gang in exchange for leniency.”
Leila shook her head and gave a disgusted snort. That was her ex all right. Always trying to work an angle. She hoped it turned around and bit him in the ass this time. His gang wouldn’t take lightly to him turning state’s witness against them. “What about the other members of his gang? I don’t want them coming after me, blaming me for him getting arrested.”
“I don’t think they’ll be a problem,” the cop assured her. “From what his cohort from the apartment complex was telling us in the interrogation room, he wasn’t there to act as back-up. That dude was there to take Mike out himself. The drugs in his car were ones he stole from his gang. My guess is his former gang members will teach him a costly lesson in prison. There’s a bunch of them at the place where he’s going. I’d give him maybe a month—maybe less—to survive.”
Despite everything that had happened, Leila wasn’t a violent person and the thought of Mike being killed made her ill. Still, if it meant she and Thomas wouldn’t have to live their lives looking over their shoulders to see if they were safe, she’d learn to deal with it.
“We’ll still keep an eye on your apartment for a while longer,” the cop added. “Just to make sure there are no more problems. The place is pretty beat up though. You might want to stay somewhere else until you can have repairs made.”
“No worries.” She gave him a sad smile. “My son and I are flying back to Puerto Rico later this morning anyway.”
“Really?” a voice said from behind her and she turned to find Clint standing there. He must’ve walked up while she’d been talking to the cop and she hadn’t even heard. He looked as exhausted as she felt and his blue gaze was guarded. “Now that Mike is taken care of, you don’t have to leave.”
“Yeah, I do.” Leila pushed away from the wall, hating that she was hurting him but knowing it was for the best. “At least for a little while. I need time to think and decompress. Going to see my mother will give me that. Plus, Thomas will get to meet his abuela. It’s all good.”
He watched her closely for a second, as if he wanted to argue, then nodded. “If that’s what you need, then you should do it. You and your son have been through a lot of trauma at the hands of your ex. You deserve every good thing now. Do what makes you happy. What time’s your flight?”
“I haven’t booked one yet,” she said, staring at her toes because it was just too painful to meet his gaze. “I was looking at fares when they brought Mike out.”
“Oh, okay.” Clint said. “I’ll give you a ride back to my house. You can relax and book your flight there then wait until it’s time to go to the airport.”
13
Later that afternoon, Clint stood in his quiet gun range and did his best to concentrate on taking inventory. He’d fallen behind in his tasks what with all the other stuff he’d been dealing with. Lessons and life and Leila.
His chest squeezed at the thought of her and how they’d parted.
Dammit. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He wasn’t supposed to feel like his world had ended.
He liked his solitude. Had always enjoyed his independence and freedom, at least until a certain Latina beauty with liquid dark eyes and an adorable son had dropped into his life out of nowhere. Now, it s
eemed, they were all he could think about.
Grumbling, he moved down the display cases, marking numbers and check boxes on his clipboard, stopping abruptly as the tip of black work boot knocked against something on the floor, half hidden beneath the display case. Curious, he reached down and picked up the tiny thunderbird toy. Must’ve been left over from the last time Suzie had watched Thomas. He gave a sad smile, remembering the cute kid with the toothless, drooling grin, his dark hair tousled. Clint sniffed the toy and found it still carried the boy’s sweet scent—baby shampoo and fabric softener.
With a sigh, he set it on the counter and continued on with his work. Truth was, he’d found it hard to be in his house now without Leila and Thomas there. That’s why he was at the shop and not back home. He’d taken them to the airport earlier then come back only to find a pair of her socks left in the dryer in the laundry room, a couple jars of Thomas’s baby food in the cabinet, a tube of Leila’s rose and cinnamon scented hand lotion in the bathroom, his old rabbit toy put back on the shelf like the past few days had never happened…
Gah! What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t the guy who pined over a woman. Was he?
As if in answer, the bells over the front door jangled and in walked Devin, talking on his cell phone. He gave Clint a small wave as he finished up his conversation then ended the call.
“Hey, buddy,” Devin said, his drawl as slow as his steps. “What’s up?”
“Not much.” Like Clint would spill his guts about what had gone on between him and Leila. Devin’s commentary on his situation was the last thing he needed. It was already bad enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about her and Thomas, reliving all the memories of the last few days like some sappy movie in his head on endless loop. He gave a one-shoulder shrug and kept on with his inventory. “You come to shoot today?”
“I did.” Devin grinned. “Hate to lose my touch. You got room in the range?”
“Yep.” Clint set his clipboard aside and grabbed the keys from behind the counter. Devin followed him toward the back of the store. Flipping on the lights in the range, Clint gazed around taking a deep breath. It was probably all his imagination, but he swore he still smelled a hint of Leila’s spicy scent in the air. They’d been the last two people in here. Shoving that thought aside with great determination, he set up a stall for Devin. “Usual rate applies. Just let me know when you’re done.”
He’d almost made it back into the shop when Devin said from behind him, “Want to talk about it?”
“About what?” Clint asked, scowling.
“Her.”
“There is no her.” He dug the toe of his boot into the cement floor.
“Uh huh. Sure.” Devin pulled out his firearm from the holster at his waist and chambered a round. “Whatever you say, buddy. But there was clearly a ‘her’”.
“Fuck off,” Clint said to his friend, though the words lacked any heat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know I’ve seen you in here with that woman every day for a while. And now that she’s gone, you look like someone kicked your puppy. Moping around, sad and sorry. If those aren’t symptoms of a broken heart, I don’t know what is.”
The fact Devin was right didn’t improve Clint’s disposition any. “Whatever, man. I don’t need that in my life. I’m happy where I’m at. Love and kids only complicate things.”
Devin stared at him a long moment, then said, “Yep, you’re probably right. Guy like you, a lone wolf? You got no business with a wife and a kid. You’re better off without ’em. Nothing but trouble, those two. Could tell it from the start.”
Frowning, Clint leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, feeling oddly defensive now. It was one thing for him to lament his time with Leila and Thomas. Quite another for someone else—someone who had no idea what had transpired or how deep their feelings went—to judge them. “She wasn’t trouble. Neither was Thomas. They were in a bad situation and I helped them out of it. Everyone’s got problems to deal with. Don’t make her into something she’s not. Leila’s smart and funny and kind and—”
Devin’s slow grin clued Clint into the fact that he’d just been played. “She is, huh? Sounds pretty wonderful. Like maybe a treasure. Be a shame to let that go in my estimation, lone wolf or not.”
With a reproachful look at Devin, Clint walked back into the shop. Dammit. He hated to admit it, but maybe letting Leila and Thomas go off on their own was a mistake. He closed his eyes and remembered their goodbye when he’d dropped her off at the airport. The tears in her eyes and the yearning in her expression. At the time, he’d put it down as wistfulness for home and the stress of the day. But what if it hadn’t been that at all? What if she’d changed her mind about needing time away? What if she’d wanted to stay here, in Vegas, with him instead?
The knot between his shoulder blades that had been there since he’d first gotten her text about Mike’s arrival at her apartment tightened even further, sending sharp pains down his arms and sharping his resolve.
He glanced up at the clock. Nine forty-five. Her flight was scheduled to depart at eleven. Good thing being a SEAL had taught him to think on his feet—or behind the wheel.
Clint grabbed the keys to his truck from behind the counter then rushed back to push open the door to the gun range, catching Devin while he reloaded his magazine. “Hey, can you watch the shop for me for a while? I have someplace I need to be.”
His friend gave him a nod and a smile. “Sure thing, buddy. Go get her.”
Leila sat at the gate for her flight at McCarren Airport, doing her best to keep Thomas occupied. The air smelled of coffee from the kiosks nearby and the sounds of slot machines changing echoed off the walls. She felt almost as restless as her son was. She missed her mother, but honestly, she’d miss Vegas, with its lights and excitement and belief that luck was just around the corner even more. Most of all, though, she’d miss Clint.
As if reading her thoughts, Thomas held out the plastic keys he’d been gnawing on and pointed at one of the numerous happy couples strolling by on the concourse. “Sint.”
Her heart fluttered. Even though that was the first time he’d said that word, she knew instantly that he’d tried to say Clint’s name. It hit her like an arrow to the chest. They’d known him such a short time, but it seemed she wasn’t the only one who’d gotten attached. Leila’s eyes stung with unshed tears. It was stupid. So, so stupid. She’d thought she’d wanted to get away from it all, but now…
Clint had been nice to them, keeping them safe when they’d needed his protection the most. Maybe that was why she was hesitating. It wasn’t like she was going away forever. Just for a few weeks. Still, her chest ached and her gut felt tied in knots. Ugh. Transference of feelings. Yep. Stress, plus adrenaline, plus forced proximity equaled emotions running high.
She sighed, watching more happy people, happy families around her. They only served to remind her what a mess she’d made of her own life. Man, she’d tried so hard not to screw things up for her son and yet it seemed that’s exactly what she’d done. Months ago, back when it had been just her and Thomas before Mike had been paroled, she’d considered herself happy. But then she’d met Clint and spent time with him in his home, almost like a real family, and she’d realized that what she’d considered happiness before paled in comparison to what it felt like being with Clint. Having him there, as a partner and a friend, showed her that loving, respectful relationships were possible. Showed her how lovely thing could be with someone in her life.
Well, crap.
Was she just running away again, as she’d done with Mike? Was what she felt for Clint real? Was it worth taking a chance on staying here and finding out? Inside her everything felt discombobulated and disconnected and in complete disarray.
When she closed her eyes, though, and centred on one thing—Clint—all the pieces came together. A sense of calm and resolve came over her. Suddenly going home to Puerto Rico sounded like the worst idea in the world.
She wanted to see her mother and grandparents again, yes, but this was her home. She could go to Puerto Rico later, for a visit, when she was happy and perhaps with Clint in tow, if he’d have her and Thomas back in his life.
Determined to find out, she gathered up her and her son’s things then took the handle of Thomas’s stroller with one hand and grabbed the handle of her suitcase with the other and headed back down the concourse toward the security checkpoint.
“Attention Air Carib passengers. Flight 3560 for San Juan, Puerto Rico now boarding at Gate 7E,” the announcer said over the PA system overhead. “Repeating. Air Carib flight 3560 for San Juan now boarding all rows, all passengers at Gate 7E. Thank you.”
Leila’s heart thudded in her chest as she continued forward, away from her plane and toward whatever might happen with Clint. Even if he didn’t want her and Thomas, even if he chose to remain alone, she wasn’t ready to leave her life here behind. The police had assured her that Mike and his gang were no longer a threat to her, and she believed them this time. She could start fresh here. Build a new life, a better life, the one she’d always dreamed of. Hopefully, with Clint as a part of it.
She’d just about reached the end of the concourse when she heard a familiar deep voice shout to her from behind the security checkpoint. Her pulse pounded loud in her ears and her throat dried.
Time slowed as she approached him. Thomas squirmed in her arms, reaching out. “Sint! Sint!”
14
Clint felt out of breath, hot and bothered, but wasn’t sure if it was because of the gorgeous woman and her child in front of him or the fact he’d raced to get here.
Leila stood there, separated by that damned yellow tape, looking like his every fantasy come to life. Her dark hair rippled over her shoulders in messy waves and there were slight shadows under her eyes from the sleepless ordeal the night before, but she was there and that’s what mattered.
