by Lori Foster
The Prodigal stumbled back, blinked in surprise and laughed as he shook his head to clear it. “There you go.” He aimed a punch at Brodie’s face.
Mary screamed, then realized Brodie had ducked. Oh, thank God. The man could have taken off his head! She sidled quickly to the tree, doing her utmost not to stare at Todd’s sightless eyes or the blood and gore that splattered his chest.
She heard a horrible noise and glanced up to see Brodie sprawled on his back.
“C’mon,” The Prodigal goaded, standing over him. “I finally have you alone, so at least show me some sport.”
With a groan, Brodie drove the heel of his shoe into the other man’s groin.
Wincing, Mary searched for the gun while keeping one eye on the men.
For a second, the big man stood there looking blank, his hands over his groin, before he doubled over.
Brodie rolled back to his feet and kneed the man in the face. Unfortunately, as he went down, he dragged Brodie with him.
Mary flinched at every pounding, grunting, painful sound she heard. How much could Brodie take? He was already limping, already bleeding.
Where was the gun? There!
She dove for it, so afraid for Brodie that she could barely see straight. She’d never shot before, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t.
The problem was that the men were rolling around too much, up one moment, down another, clenched, apart, stumbling...
“That’s enough!” She held the gun in both hands, her finger on the trigger, her breathing choppy. “Swear to God, I’m going to shoot someone.”
Brodie straddled The Prodigal, fist cocked, but at her threat they both froze.
Blood, dirt and bruises covered them. Both.
Even now Brodie held his own. Well, sort of.
His left cheek bore a split that trickled blood. His right eye was nearly swollen shut. He’d definitely taken the brunt of the abuse, yet he was currently on top.
The Prodigal peered around him to see Mary. “You won’t shoot.”
She shifted her stance, tightened her jaw. “Wanna bet?”
Softly, as if trying to soothe her, Brodie said, “Babe, take your finger off the trigger, okay?”
Mary shook her head. “No, it’s not okay.” A siren sounded in the distance. Finally. Those ten minutes had felt like ten hours. Ten days. “Back away from him, Brodie.”
“You don’t want to kill anyone.”
“You don’t know that.” She thought of Todd’s dead body and acid crawled up her throat. If she puked, then she puked.
But she wasn’t lowering the gun.
She lifted her chin, and because Brodie needed to understand, she stated with conviction, “I’d do anything to protect you.”
Both men stared at her.
In another display of speed, Brodie moved off The Prodigal and to the side. His gaze never left her. “Because you love me?”
She couldn’t get the words out so she nodded.
“Ahh,” the ape said with sarcasm. “That’s sweet.” Then with underlying steel, “Now, how about you get that fucking gun off me?”
“Don’t curse at her,” Brodie ordered. “She’s upset.”
“No shit. She’s shaking so bad she’s liable to shoot me without meaning to.”
“Oh, I’ll mean to.” Mary partially lowered the gun. Honestly, her whole body had started to quake. At this point if the gun went off, she might even hit Brodie. She looked at him helplessly, feeling the edges of her vision start to close in. “Will you come take this, please?”
“Yeah.” His grin went crooked thanks to the swelling in his face, and he limped when he walked. As he eased the gun from her hand, The Prodigal got to his feet. Brodie didn’t aim at him, but the intent was there anyway.
He was ready, and unlike her, he didn’t shake.
Leaning against his other side, grateful for the arm that held her close, Mary peered around at all the destruction. “Well, Prodigal, are you happy with yourself?”
The man laughed. Actually laughed. “Since it looks like I’m busted, you may as well call me Helton. And the answer is yes.” He stretched. “It’s been a long dry spell, but now, I feel pretty damn good.”
Brodie grinned, too.
Mary considered throwing a punch of her own. “You think this is funny?” She glared her accusation at Brodie. “You think he is funny?”
“He’s a psychopath and this situation is as far from funny as we can get.”
“So what amused him?”
“He thought it was just him and me. Mano a mano, remember?” Brodie gave her a squeeze. “He forgot about you.”
His smile, even crooked, was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen. Feeling her lip start to quiver, Mary bit it.
Helton shook his head. “She’d seemed like such a sweet girl.”
“She’s a woman,” Brodie corrected. “And actually, she’s the strongest fighter I know.”
Tears burned Mary’s eyes and no amount of blinking would clear them away. Police cars pulled into the drive, one after another until three sets of lights and sirens mingled.
Needing something to do, besides being an emotional wreck, she ran over to the first officer and gave a stammering explanation. Luckily, Therman had already detailed much of the situation, saving her some trouble. The police at least knew that she and Brodie weren’t the bad players in this drama.
Once that was done and the police had taken over, she went to Brodie’s car.
Howler needed reassurances, and she needed a moment to think. It took a little coaxing to calm the dog down enough for her to slip into the car with him. After he’d snuffled all over her, whimpering and crying—making her cry again—she got his leash on him. Stupidly, she told him he had to promise to be good.
He gave her the most innocent look she’d ever seen from him, and she bought it. Adopting Brodie’s absurd baby talk, she crooned to Howler, repeating over and over, “You’re such a good boy.”
He played along, she’d give him that. Yet the second they stepped from the car the dog literally hauled her, without pause, straight to Brodie.
Mary stumbled and barely kept up.
When Howler reached him, he jumped up, paws on Brodie’s shoulders, to bathe him in uncontrolled love. Laughing, wincing a little, Brodie accepted the affection and gave it back in return with long strokes down Howler’s back, a few hugs and lots of baby talk.
Standing back just a bit, the leash now loose in her hand, Mary watched him and thought again about how much she cared for him. She hadn’t really known what to expect of love, but this?
It overwhelmed her.
In a good way, she supposed, though it also scared her.
She didn’t like feeling needy, but she knew she needed Brodie.
She didn’t like the turbulence of her emotions, and yet new tears gathered on her lashes.
Any cold control she’d once felt was blown. Warmth and sentiment and sexual attraction had taken its place, filling her up, all but choking her.
And the trust—that was the newest emotion of all. She truly, one hundred percent trusted him. In everything.
Because she knew he loved her, too.
She was wondering what they’d do next, where the love would take them, when movement on the driveway drew her eyes.
Therman rolled into view in his wheelchair.
Good heavens, it was a long drive. Vera, Burl and Jolene hustled behind him and for once, Jolene didn’t look as dignified, not with tears tracking her face. Vera openly sobbed with a hand to her mouth. Worry lined Burl’s face.
And Therman... Therman locked his gaze on her and kept coming. His stricken face took her breath away. Suddenly he looked small and frail—and yet, he’d come for her.
These people cared about her, they always had.
Dear God, now that she’d opened her heart, she felt so much. Almost too much. Blindly, she reached out. “Brodie?”
Following her gaze, he said, “Breathe, honey.”
She gulped in air.
“Let’s meet him halfway.” Brodie took her arm and, holding Howler’s leash in the other hand, they all moved forward until she and Therman met in the middle.
All around them, noise filled the night air. People talking, giving orders. Paramedics seeing to Lem. Helton arguing as he was put into a vehicle. It all seemed to fade away.
“Mary.” Therman swallowed heavily—and opened his arms. Tears glittered in his eyes and it broke her.
Going to her knees, Mary embraced him while Vera, Burl and Jolene closed in around her.
“Thank God you’re all right,” he said over and over while hugging her tight. “Thank God.”
“This is nice.”
Brodie. She turned, swiped a wrist over her eyes and stared up at him. Oh, his poor battered face. She gave Therman one last pat, then stood with a purpose. “You need to go to a hospital.”
He shook his head. “It looks worse than it is.”
It looked pretty damned bad. “Are you sure?”
“You love me. I won’t let you take it back, so yeah, I’m fine.”
Crazy, wonderful man. Fighting back tears of joy, Mary said to their collected group, “He loves me, too.”
“We already knew that,” Jolene said with a smile.
“And we love you.” Vera leaned into Burl. “All of us.”
Humbled, Mary swallowed heavily. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
Therman stated, “You’re family,” as if that explained everything.
And maybe it did. Now.
Mary gave another watery sob. Brodie pulled her against his chest, letting her hide her face for just a moment. No longer than that, though, because Howler started to fret.
Against her temple, Brodie said, “Howler loves you, too, you know. You’re just that damned lovable.”
Yes, for the first time in her life, she believed it. She felt it.
“You’re all wonderful.” She stroked Howler, then encompassed them all in her gaze. “Thank you. I love you so much, and I’m glad to have you for my family.”
Even with the craziness around them, she couldn’t have been happier.
That was how it was with family, she realized. They made everything better.
“Speaking of family...” Brodie dug his phone from his pocket. “My mother will skin me if I don’t clue her in.”
“Bring her to dinner tomorrow,” Therman said, his tone firm. “Your brother, too.”
“And Charlotte,” Mary added. She was also family.
“Great idea.” Burl rubbed his hands together. “I’ve got a standing roast that’ll be perfect. Now, I just need to decide on a dessert. Something special.” After quick hugs, he and Vera moved off together.
Jolene put her hands on Therman’s shoulders. “I should get him back to the house.”
Therman resisted her efforts, his head down, his hands tight on the arms of the chair. “I want you to know, I burned it all.”
Not understanding, Mary looked at Brodie.
He shrugged and asked, “Burned what?”
“The art from the prisoner.” His bushy brows clenched together. “I’ve never displayed it. I started out buying it to ensure no one else could. I didn’t want it glamorized.” After clearing his throat, he met Brodie’s gaze. “I got caught up in the competition of acquiring it. No excuses. It was wrong, especially when other buyers tried to threaten me away.” He shook his head. “That happens sometimes. I thought it was fun and games. I never imagined...”
Mary took his hand in hers. “We spoke with The Prodigal. I think he’s insane, but you couldn’t have known that.”
Gratitude softened his expression. “Still...”
“It’s over and done,” Brodie interrupted. “I’m happy to remain your driver if you’ll have me.”
A slow smile came over Therman. “Boy, I’m not about to let you go.”
“Neither am I.” Mary moved against Brodie again, loving how his arms came around her. Loving him.
And especially loving her future, now that she had everything she’d ever wanted and more.
EPILOGUE
ONCE THE DINNER dishes were cleared away, Brodie spread out the house plans on his mother’s table. They’d started with a basic floor plan, then added to it based on things he and Mary wanted, along with suggestions from his mother, Therman and even Jolene.
Next to him, Jack nodded. “I like it.” He pointed at the master bedroom. “Opening to a deck out back? Nice.”
“That was Mary’s idea. She loves the woods.” He’d had a hell of a time adjusting to that, since he knew she’d spent too much of her childhood killing time in isolation.
But now it had new meaning.
According to Mary, most things had new meaning.
She’d stated that these woods belonged to them. Together.
Brodie stated that she’d never be alone again.
Mary came in from the living room, where Therman and Jolene sat with his mother, chatting over coffee and a cake that Burl had brought along. Vera had tried to insist on cleaning up after dinner, but in turn, his mother had insisted that Jack and Brodie could do it.
And they had. Hell, he was so pleased to have everyone together that he wouldn’t mind doing dishes the rest of the year.
“It’s going to be beautiful,” Mary said as she breezed in, wearing a warm glow. Happiness, that was what it was, and it suited her as well as the adorable freckles did. “In another month or so when the leaves start to change, it’ll be so colorful. And the birds.” She hugged herself. “I love hearing them sing.”
In so many different ways, she’d opened up the last few weeks. She’d changed her clothes, her hair, her makeup.
And she was still the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
Brodie had to kiss her. Hell, it happened a dozen times a day. She’d say or do something, and he couldn’t resist.
Hard to believe he’d first met her in July, only a few months ago, because now he couldn’t imagine her not being in his life.
With his mouth against hers, he whispered, “You look hot in those jeans.” They fit her lush body perfectly, as did her sweater. She’d slowly changed her wardrobe, adding new pieces while eliminating old. And always, no matter what she wore, her sexy confidence shone through. That, thank God, hadn’t changed.
Ros came in to refill coffee, but paused to look at the plans. “How long before you break ground?”
“Soon.” He gave Mary another kiss. Then one more.
Laughing, Mary put her hands to his cheeks and held his face away. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Am not.” He kissed her nose. “It’s just family.”
That made her kiss him, before she snuggled close. “I think we can start building a little sooner than we’d planned.”
They’d worked out the finances together and decided that if they got the house under roof before winter, they’d be happy with that progress. But if she wanted to adjust that, he’d make it work.
“Whatever you want, Red.”
“Spoken like a man in love,” Jack said.
Charlotte laughed. “Don’t say that like it’s a surprise. He’s been in love since he first saw her.”
“He was in lust,” Jack corrected, then said to his mother, “Though you probably shouldn’t hear that.”
“Being a mother,” Ros said, “didn’t make me blind or stupid. Plus, I know my son.”
Mary laughed. “I’m so glad Brodie was part of a package deal.” She stepped back and dug a check from her pocket. “I was talking about this. Therman just gave us an early wedding gift.”
Brodie took it from her, then whistled. “Seriously?” The amount was a little staggering, but that was Therman. Now that Mary had accepted them all, Therman had gone all in, treating her like a daughter in nearly every way.
They still worked for him, and he continued to add to his collections, but the relationship had changed a lot and Brodie felt like they were all better off.
Charlotte crowded in to look over his shoulder. So did Jack. They were each suitably impressed.
“I told him it was too much, but he said it wasn’t a bonus for work. It was for family.”
Therman crowded into the kitchen. “Damn right.” His busy brows narrowed as he eyed them each in turn. “You are family. I’m going to give her away at the wedding after all.”
Way to go, Therman. Brodie slowly grinned as he turned to face the older man. “I think that sounds perfect. You’ll look real swanky rolling down the aisle.”
On her way out, Charlotte bent to kiss Therman’s cheek. “You are just the sweetest guy ever.”
Jack followed her, pausing to pat Therman’s shoulder. “I don’t know about sweet, but definitely generous.”
For his part, Therman looked a little nonplussed, then his face split with a big grin. “I do like your family, Brodie.” He wheeled around and followed the others.
After that awful incident, Mary had given up her apartment to move in with him and they’d started wedding plans. The big day was a month away. Nothing too fancy, just his Mary in a white dress, lots of flowers and their families—both sides—as witnesses.
“There’s something else.” With a deep breath, Mary reached into her other pocket and drew out a second check. “I sold my house.”
The air froze in Brodie’s lungs. Other than the day she’d told him about the house, she hadn’t mentioned it—and he hadn’t asked. It was her decision and he wanted her to be comfortable with it. If she wanted it demolished, he’d take it apart for her, brick by brick with his bare hands if that was what it took.
Ros raised her brows. “You never told me you had a house.”
They’d grown close, just as Brodie had known they would, but especially so as his mother helped her with wedding plans. Mary loved hanging out with the women, and the women loved her.
