Summer Lovin': A Wounded Hearts Novella (8 page)

Chapter Seventeen

B
y the time
Rebecca arrived home from the hospital she was tired and sore, but relieved Jasper’s ankle had turned out to be a bad sprain, instead of broken. The kids were in her living room now, eating grilled cheese sandwiches with giant glasses of milk, and watching superhero cartoons while she… she was finally having that hot bath she’d been dreaming about.

And
boy
, did it feel good.

She leaned back in the clawfoot tub and closed her eyes, relaxing for the first time in days. Aching muscles sang
hallelujah
as the warm water and soapy bubbles did their job. Her lips twitched at the muted sound of the television and childish laughter coming from the other room. Ever since her mom bought a condo in the new senior’s subdivision, Rebecca had been alone in the house. She thought she liked it that way, but this was… nice.

Jack had cleared it with Social Services so the boys could come home with her. Eventually more permanent arrangements would have to be made, but for now at least, they were safe. Unfortunately, cases like this happened all too often. Working within the school system, teachers and staff were often the first line of defense for children like Tommy and Jasper. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair, it just was.

She ran a finger along the scar under her ear and remembered a time when she’d been grateful for a teacher’s intervention. If it were up to her no child would ever go hungry or be afraid in their own home. Tommy was too young to have to take on the responsibility of his brother. He’d done the best that he could.

Mr. Lee called the hospital while they were there and reassured her there would be no charges, but he wanted Tommy to come and help at the store to make up for what he’d done. Tommy had been stunned when she’d relayed the message. Obviously, he was used to a more substantial punishment. Not any more. Not if she had any say in the matter.

Rebecca woke sometime later, chilled. She sat up, sloshing water against the sides of the deep bathtub. Her hair had slipped its topknot and now lay suctioned against her goose-pimply arms and chest. Shoot, some caregiver she was.

The television still blared, though she couldn’t hear the kids any more. Maybe they’d followed her example and fallen asleep on the sofa.

She looked down and grimaced. Half-dry soap bubbles covered her upper body. She hurried to sluice off, shivering as the cool washcloth passed over her skin. Catching the chain with her toe, she pulled the plug, then stood and stepped out onto a plush white bathmat. Reaching over to the hook on the door, she grabbed the navy blue bathtowel and hurried to dry herself before slipping into her cotton candy pink robe and snuggling into its enveloping warmth.

The bang of the back door and a child’s cry halted the combing of her damp hair. She opened the door and padded in bare feet down the carpeted corridor. She peeked into the living room on the right.
Spiderman
was climbing the outside of a building on the TV, but no one was watching him. The kids’ plates sat empty where she’d left them on the coffee table, the milk half drunk.

Concerned, she turned and hurried the rest of the way down the hall to the kitchen. Maybe they were still hungry and had gone looking for food. She hoped Tommy had the sense not to use the stove to make more grilled sandwiches.

Rounding the corner, she shrieked. Two men sat at her kitchen table wolfing down what seemed like the entire contents of her fridge. Tommy and Jasper were on the floor near the back door. Tommy had an arm around his brother’s shoulders. Tears had left tracks down both boys’ cheeks. All four looked up when she entered the room and her hands fluttered up to the edges of her robe.

“Well, if it ain’t the teach.” The heavier-set man—Tommy’s uncle, she was sure—plucked at his yellowed teeth with a toothpick. “We were wondering where you were. Not very nice leavin’ kids by themselves. No tellin’ how much trouble they’ll git into.”

“I told ya I’d go git her,” the other guy said. His smarmy gaze made her feel as though she were naked even though the robe covered her from head to toe.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. The unwashed stench of sweat and alcohol permeating the room from their bodies was awful. It also warned her as nothing else could that these were desperate men with nothing left to lose.

“They…” Tommy started to rise, but a warning glare from his uncle had him sinking down again, sullen and angry.

Rebecca gave her head the slightest shake.
Please don’t do anything stupid.

“Shut your trap, boy. You’re lucky I didn’t beat your ass for taking off like that.” He took a long chug of milk—right out of the carton—then focused on Becky. “What did you do to my littlest boy, Teach? That how you treat kids in that fancy school of yours? Imagine my surprise to hear a message from the hospital saying you’d been givin’ permission to bring them home—prior to an investigation.”

Rebecca gasped. He was trying to blame Jasper’s accident on her? “If you had food for them to eat, they wouldn’t have been trying to steal some.”

The moment the words left her lips she knew it was the wrong thing to say. Pete turned his attention to Tommy who cowered into the corner. Jasper started sobbing and covered his head with his arm, bandaged leg sticking vulnerably at an angle from his body.

Pete stood, the chair scraping on the ceramic tiles. His fist clenched around the carton, and milk gushed over the top of his hand. Swearing, he threw the container and it splattered on the wall above the boys’ heads.

Incensed, Becky screeched and ran toward him, fists raised to pound some sense into the idiot. She never got the chance.

The other man came at her from the side and knocked her to her knees, his weight driving her facedown onto the floor. Panicking, she bucked and twisted, desperate to get him off her, but he only laughed and dug his bony hand into the center of her back to hold her still.

“I knew you’d like it rough,” he said. “You and I have unfinished business, Teach.

“You let her go,” Tommy cried.

Becky turned her head in time to see him jump to his feet and try to lunge across the distance between them, but his uncle grabbed him by the back of his shirt and stopped his momentum.

He gave the kid a little shake and sent him stumbling back to his brother. “You heard the kid, Davey. We didn’t come here for none of that crap. She’ll just get us into a world of trouble. Let’s go, man. We got what we came for.”

Davey swore and Becky could feel him shake his head above her. “Nah, you want to wuss out, go ahead. I’m good right where I am.” He rubbed his hand along her hip and helpless tears sprang into Becky’s eyes.

There was a moment’s silence when all she could hear was her terrified breaths and Jasper’s sobs, then Pete gave a harsh laugh and said, “Whatever, man. It’s your funeral.”

Black work boots with undone laces shuffled into her line of vision. “You sure, Dave? This is a felony. You could do jail time, man.”

Davey shifted, his weight squeezing all the air out of her lungs. Or maybe that was the fear.

“They gotta catch me first,” Davey answered, his hand petting her hair like she was some sort of dog. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch up with you later and tell ya all about it over a drink or two.” Rough laughter erupted, then the boots moved away and her heart intensified its already staccato beat.

She filled her head with visions of Mitch. The prospect of his warm smile and strong arms wrapping her in safety and love. The taste of his kisses and the goal of a future together would be her reason for succeeding. That, and the fact that she refused to go down without a fight. How was she going to get out of this? He was too strong to overpower. She needed a weapon…

Her comb.

It was in the pocket of her robe. If she could just get her hands on it, she might have a slim chance. Possibly, her only chance

Chapter Eighteen

M
itch glanced
over at Jack’s clenched hands on the steering wheel and the grim line of his jaw. He wished there was something he could say. If only Tina had waited for an explanation.

“Jack, I’m sorry I brought all that shit up. This should never have happened.” He turned his gaze to the front, hoping against hope to catch a glimpse of the girl. “We’ll find her, she couldn’t have gone far.”

“And then what?” Jack growled. “I tell her her mother was a whore who’d split her legs for anyone willing to pay?” He slapped the steering wheel. “I can’t believe I said that back there. Of course she’s my daughter, blood or no blood. I don’t really give a fuck. She’s been mine since the day she was born.”

He rolled down the windows and the smell of fresh-cut grass swept into the car. There was nothing except the sound of the Mustang’s powerful engine for a couple of blocks, then Jack sighed. “I never blamed you, you know.” He glanced at Mitch. “I knew what April was like, but she had her hooks in me good. And then, when things fell apart, I needed a scapegoat. After all, it couldn’t be my fault we failed, right?” His laugh was cynical.

Mitch frowned. That damn woman had a lot to answer for.

They turned the corner and motored down Becky’s street. He glanced out the window to see if she’d made it home from the hospital yet.

“Stop.” His breath backed up his throat. “There, in the alley. See that?” He pointed to the half-hidden nose of a dusty red truck. “I think that’s Pete Montgomery’s pick-up. What the hell is he doing here?”

Jack drove past and parked a couple of houses down the street. He threw his arm over the seat and gazed through the back window while Mitch stared out his side mirror, his hand on the door handle.

“Hold on,” Jack warned. “We don’t want to go rushing in there and make things worse. You stay here, and I’ll go have a look around. Call for back-up.”

Mitch opened his door and was out of the car before Jack could stop him. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

Jack climbed out and glared over the roof. “Fine. Then we do this my way. We don’t want to give away our position until we know what we’re dealing with, so you go around the far side and check the windows—carefully—and I’ll do this side. We’ll meet in the back yard. Good?”

Mitch hesitated. His instincts were shouting at him to get to his woman, but he could see the validity of Jack’s plan. They had to make sure she was safe first. But God wouldn’t be able to help the son-of-a-bitch if he’d done anything to hurt her.

Mitch reluctantly nodded, waiting impatiently while Jack called it in, and then they were on the move.

The first two sets of windows had drawn curtains, ramping his anxiety levels into the stratosphere. The next one was her office, dark except for the glowing computer. He had to negotiate his way through a rhododendron to get to the next window, the living room. The blinds were pulled but there was just enough room for him to see it too was empty, though the television was on, so someone was definitely home.

Where was she? Maybe he was wrong and that was just a neighbor’s truck, but something told him it was more. His heart throbbed in time with the words running through his head,
hurry, hurry before it’s too late
.

He pushed his way out of the bushes, careful to make as little noise as possible, and rounded the corner into the back yard. Jack stood, hands raised in front of him, in the middle of the yard. What the…?

Mitch faded into the old house’s shadow and tried to get a handle on what was happening. At first he couldn’t see anything, but then the kid, Tommy, stumbled into view with an arm around his brother’s waist, acting as a crutch. They started a hobbling run, but froze when someone yelled at them from the house.

“You kids stop right there or you won’t be sitting down for a week once we get home. You’re lucky I haven’t punished you already.”

Mitch swore long and fluidly under his breath. He’d been right, Tommy’s uncle was here. Where was Rebecca?

“Let them go, Montgomery. My men are on the way.” Jack turned his hands over in a pleading gesture. “Please, Pete. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.” The raw emotion pouring from his friend’s voice told Mitch what was going on before he even saw the blonde head forced back against Montgomery’s shoulder, his hand wrapped around her neck.

Fuck
. What was Tina doing in the middle of this mess?

“Does
she
know we’re kin, Jack?” Pete’s laugh was harsh. He jerked his head to the left and the boys slowly made their way toward the pick-up. “Yeah, I thought not. Stay back and I’ll let ‘er go. Get in my way and you won’t like the consequences.”

“Daddy…” Tina’s cry was agonizing.

Mitch’s hands clenched. He edged along the wall, waiting for an opportunity to jump the bastard without hurting Jack’s daughter. A fleeting glance showed Jack doing the same, his face a grim mask. Suddenly, Tina tripped and gave Jack the time he needed to sack Pete in an impressive interception worthy of
Heisman
consideration.

The two rolled on the ground until Jack got the upper-hand with a clip to the jaw that put the other man down. He pulled his cuffs and yelled, “Go.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

With a quick check to make sure Tina was okay, Mitch jumped the porch stairs and threw himself against the half-closed door. It slammed back on its hinges and revealed a scene right out of his worst nightmares.

Becky lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor, her housecoat up around her thighs as she fought to unseat the man on her back. He had her hair wrapped around his fist, and when Mitch entered the room, he gave it a vicious twist, causing her to cry out in pain.

He looked up and grinned, his blackened teeth turning Mitch’s stomach. “Seems like we been here before, don’t it?” The smile faded and something dark and ugly took its place. “You want to see her live, I suggest you back your ass right out that there door. It’d be a shame if her neck
accidently
snapped.”

Mitch froze, except for the muscle in his cheek jumping uncontrollably.

“I’m going to rip you apart.” He gritted through clenched teeth. It was an oath. One he intended to keep.

Rebecca tried to meet his gaze and the fucker slammed her head onto the floor.

Mitch exploded.

He copied Jack’s move, albeit not as gracefully, and plowed headfirst into the asshole’s chest. The momentum sent them flying backward against the far wall. Mitch shook his head, dazed. The other guy lifted his knee and nailed him in the sack.

Fuuuck, that hurt.

Stunned, Mitch rolled to the side, his body going fetal as sparks jumped behind his eyelids. A booted foot kicked him in the ribs repeatedly until he managed to lash out and knock the prick off his feet.

He inhaled a pained breath, turned to finish the fight… and sat up in shock.

Rebecca perched on the guy’s chest, a Valkyrie come to life. She’d pounced and had a rat tail comb poised near his jugular. Her hair resembled a porcupine having a bad day, and her cheeks were flushed as pink as her god-awful robe. She wore the biggest victory smirk he’d ever witnessed. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“I guess you got your man,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She met his gaze and the love shining out of those impossibly blue eyes made him feel like he’d taken a trip to heaven.

“Yes,” she said. “I think I have.”

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