Authors: J.L. Berg
When we'd stepped inside, we'd both gasped. It was breathtaking. There were hardwood floors throughout, a kitchen any chef would die for, and a master bedroom fit for a king. The best part? The other four bedrooms were way down the hall. A bit of separation between Connor and our bedroom at night would be a good thing, especially when he got a little older.
Nothing worse than walking in on the parents. Yuck.
We'd signed on the dotted line immediately, and our offer had been accepted. We'd officially moved in yesterday, and as Declan sat at home, unpacking, I'd taken Connor out to find bedding for his Iron Man–themed room. After four hours, I was starting to think Amazon would have been a better option.
"What if we got a solid red bedspread and painted the walls in an Iron Man theme?" I suggested brightly.
He gave me a look suggesting that was the lamest idea in history as he moved on toward the bedding section of store number five.
"What if we just bought a ton of Iron Man posters? Or glued a bunch of Iron Man action figures to the walls?"
"Le-ah!" he said, exasperated.
I laughed, messing up his hair, until he giggled.
"Okay, okay. I am at your service. Iron Man bedding or nothing! We will find it if we die trying!"
"That's the sprit!"
We walked through the bedding section, seeing every beloved childhood toy and action figure, except for the one we needed.
Connor sighed.
"Would you consider Bob the Builder?" I teased.
He gave me a goofy look and stuck out his tongue as we made our way out of the home section.
"Hey, Little Man, think I could interest you in an ice cream cone?"
"Is it vanilla?"
"Whatever floats your boat, dude."
We headed for the exit when a man came out of nowhere and collided with me. I immediately reached for Connor and righted my purse.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you," I began to apologize as I righted myself.
"You always were a bit of a klutz, weren't you, girl?"
Even though I hadn't heard it in almost a year, I'd recognize that ragged voice anywhere. My eyes lifted and fell in line with the hard, icy gaze of my father, the man I thought I'd never have to see again. He looked a bit cleaner, and his clothes were newer. But beyond the apparel, that same man I'd grown up hating was there. The blurred eyes and haggard demeanor told me he hadn't changed his lifestyle at all since leaving town.
"You have some balls coming back here," I said in a steady voice even though my heart rate had just kicked it into high gear. I felt like I was going to collapse.
Remembering I needed to stay calm for Connor, who was my number one priority, I took his hand and pulled him behind me, sheltering him with my body.
"I've been hanging low in Florida the last few months. I rented an apartment there, a nice one, thanks to your boyfriend. Figured I'd go someplace warm since I had spent my entire life living in a shithole because of you," he spat.
"Why did you come back? You weren't supposed to come back."
"Was at the store, getting some essentials," he said.
Essentials
was his key word for alcohol. "And imagine my surprise when I saw my baby girl on the front of a magazine, holding hands with the man who had run me out of town."
"No one ran you out of town," I corrected. "And I'm not your baby girl. Declan offered you money, and you took it."
"Yes, but I didn't realize he was a famous movie star and all. I'd say I was a bit shortchanged, don't you think?"
"What do you want?" I asked, grasping Connor's scared hand behind my back.
He hadn't said a word, but I knew he had to be frightened. I suddenly remembered the last store we'd visited. We'd seen a flowery pink sofa, and I'd taken a picture. I'd sent it to Declan and joked that I'd found a perfect addition to our living room. I'd slid my phone into my back pocket, waiting for his snarky reply, and it was still there.
Loosening my grip on Connor's hand, I pinched my phone between my fingers. Connor must have caught on because he grabbed it and took over.
"I want more money —a lot more."
"We're not giving you any more. You need to leave," I said.
"See, for a few days now, I've been watching you and that little boy you have behind you. Well, I'm guessing he's important to that boyfriend of yours. Wouldn't want anything to happen to him, would ya?"
"You wouldn't," I seethed.
"The gun tucked under my coat says otherwise," he sneered.
Any belief I'd had that there could be an ounce of good hiding somewhere deep down in my father was completely shattered in that instant. I knew he'd never cared or given two shits about me. I'd had enough run-ins and blowouts with him over the years to make that abundantly clear, but I had hoped that somewhere in that ice-cold, whiskey-soaked heart of his, there was some humanity left.
As I watched him look down on us with those familiar hazy eyes, now filled with hateful determination, I knew...he would always be the villain. Nothing could ever redeem him. When someone threatened the life of a child, there was no coming back from that. My father was a shell. He was nothing but a soulless alcoholic, intent on finding his next bottle, and nothing would ever get in his way.
"I think it's time the three of us took a little trip," he said, patting his hip, with a wicked smile.
With that gun in his possession, I was backed into a corner. Every molecule in my body was screaming to turn, run, and yell for help. But I looked at the man in front of me, and I didn't trust him. I didn't know what he would and wouldn't do.
Would he turn and run? Or would he shoot?
One thing my father had proven today was that he was unpredictable.
I should have known better after reading those letters he'd saved from my mother. I'd always cast him aside as a lifeless drunk, but behind those vacant eyes lay something much more sinister. Feeling Connor's small body behind me, knowing I was his sole protector in that moment, I knew I couldn't risk doing anything bold.
I gave a slight nod, squeezing Connor's hand, as he quickly shoved my phone back into my pocket.
"All right, Dad. You win. We'll go with you."
~Declan~
"One second, she was crying over a commercial she'd seen, and the next, she was shoving me down onto the couch, begging me to take her. It's weird, man," Logan said as we continued to unload boxes from the moving truck into the house.
This was our house —the house I owned with Leah, the house we now shared with my son. Well, we would share it once all the court documents were filed. It was a surreal day.
"So, this is what I have to look forward to someday?" I asked with a grin.
"I think you have a few more steps to go through, dude, before you knock Leah up...unless you're planning on going the celebrity route and doing everything ass-backwards."
We set the boxes down in the formal living room, a room I didn't quite understand.
Why did a house need two living rooms?
It seemed redundant.
"No, I definitely plan on putting a ring on that woman before long. That way, she can't run," I said jokingly.
"Yeah? Good for you, man. Does Connor know?"
I nodded, remembering the conversation we'd had a week or so ago. Leah had been out, grabbing take-out, and I'd sat down with Connor to have a man-to-man chat. He had been excited as he'd asked how I was going to do it.
"You can't just ask her. You have to make it romantic, Dad."
I'd laughed and assured him I would do just that. It still tore me up every time he called me Dad.
"He's really happy," I said to Logan as we headed back outside to grab another box for the hundredth time.
How much damn shit did we have?
"But you can't tell Clare. Leah would know in five seconds flat. You know those two don't keep any secrets."
"What are you two talking about out here?" Clare asked, poking her head out the door.
"You weren't lifting anything, right? I told you to just put away small things, like kitchen things and clothes," Logan scolded, immediately taking residence next to his wife.
She was barely three months pregnant, but Logan was treating her like she was about to give birth any day. We'd all given him shit because he was so cautious and careful with her. As a doctor, he knew better, but apparently, that need to protect overrode all of his medical training. I knew it was a bit of a miracle that they'd conceived in the first place. They hadn't been planning on it, especially with Logan just recently going into remission. But here they were, expecting a child. I'd never seen my friend so frazzled and happy all at the same time. It was a look I hoped I'd have the pleasure of having someday.
"I was just saying how you and my lovely girlfriend can't keep secrets from each other," I said to Clare.
"Oh," she said with a giggle, "that's very true. Very true indeed."
"I don't even want to know what that smile means," I said.
She just laughed and headed back inside. I searched around the moving truck, grabbed another box, and took it inside, heading towards the kitchen. I found Clare sitting on the countertop with Logan standing between her legs. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and he was pulling her body closer as he kissed her.
"Dude! Could you at least let me be the one to deflower my kitchen?" I found a magnet on the counter and threw it at his head.
He ducked and laughed, chucking a kitchen towel in my direction. Just as I was looking around the kitchen for something else I could launch at my horny friend, my phone vibrated in my back pocket.
Leah had been sending me funny texts all day, so I was curious to see what shenanigans she was up to this time. She had sent me pics of flowery bedspreads and another one of herself looking miserable as she and Connor entered yet another store. I'd also received a text saying that she was seriously considering painting his room pink as retribution. She'd thought she was getting off easy by taking Connor shopping for bedding and not having to unpack. Little had she known that it would turn out to be an all day affair. I felt bad for her, but then not so much while I stretched my aching back as I remembered when she'd told me we didn't need a mover.
With a goofy grin on my face, I pulled out my cell and saw that I did have a new message from Leah, but this one wasn't funny or snarky. This one stopped my blood cold and left me frozen in my tracks.
Dad, need U. At mall. Man with gun.
"Declan, you look like you just saw a ghost," Clare said.
Someone tugged at my arm, pulling the phone out of my hand, which snapped me back into reality.
Leah and Connor needed me.
I didn't understand what was happening, but I needed to get to them —now.
I heard Logan and Clare's reaction to the text message a second later, and I didn't even need to voice my request as Logan grabbed his keys and headed to the door with me. He turned briefly and gave Clare a quick but passionate kiss that seemed to say everything all at once.
"Tell Maddie I'll be home soon," he said.
And we were gone.
I barely remember the car ride. Thank God Logan drove because I didn't know how the fuck I would have gotten there otherwise. Logically, I knew the mall was only five minutes away, but it felt like an eternity to get there.
"What do you think he meant?" I asked.
"I don't know," Logan stated.
"Do you think there's a shooter?"
"God, I hope not."
We arrived at the mall, and everything seemed normal. People were walking calmly to their cars, and others were walking in. I remembered which store Leah had said they were headed to in her last text, so I directed Logan there first. We leaped from the car and took off toward the entrance.
That was when I saw him —Clayton Morgan, Leah's father.
I'd never felt such instant rage before in my life. Leah and Connor were walking ahead of him in the parking lot, and they looked ashen and scared. Clayton kept close behind, no doubt covering the gun that was pointed into their backs.
The motherfucker came back.
This was my fault. I'd assumed the money would be enough to keep him away. I'd thought he was so far gone into himself that once he got away, he wouldn't be able to find his way back. I'd seriously underestimated him, and now, Leah and Connor were paying the price.
He looked in our direction, and I dodged behind one of the cars. I didn't want to give up my position yet. If I knew the bastard at all, he had to have some alcohol running through that body, so he would be slow, and I'd use that to my advantage.
Crouched next to me, Logan asked, "Is that Leah's father?"
I just nodded.
"We need to take him out before he gets out of this parking lot." I said.
"Agreed."
Moving low, we managed to get behind Clayton. Taking quick steps, we caught up, and in one quick motion, Logan attacked Clayton from the right, and I slammed into Connor and Leah from the left, moving them out of the way.
My eyes briefly met Leah's before I quickly checked both of them for injuries.
"Run," I told them. "Use your phone and call the police. We'll detain him until then."
Leah nodded, looking vulnerable and scared but strong and determined as well. She grabbed Connor, who was clutching my shirt and crying, and then they took off toward the entrance of the mall. She already had her phone out and to her ear by the time she was to the doors.
I turned to see Logan straddling Clayton on the ground. The gun was tossed several feet away, and Leah's father was face down on the pavement with his hands behind his back.
"Sure you don't moonlight as a cop?" I asked Logan.
"I'm not just a pretty face, you know? I got skills."
I gave a ghost of a smile before focusing back on Clayton. My fists clenched, and I fought back the need to attack. I wanted vengeance so bad that I could taste it.
"Get him up," I said to Logan.
Logan lifted off of Clayton and roughly pulled him up from the ground. He wrapped his arm around Clayton's neck in a chokehold to make sure he wouldn't get away. Clayton's vision focused and unfocused for a minute, making his level of intoxication clear, and then his eyes finally settled on me.