Single Mom's Protector - Complete Series

by Nella Tyler

  Her bedroom was the true disaster, the mattress barely recognizable as anything more than a mass of springs and padding. The clothes she’d left behind were shredded and everything in the room had been scrutinized.

  Gilda held her hand over her mouth, her stomach threatening to erupt. Cole stood behind her, a calm hand on each of her shoulders. She spun around and buried her face in his chest and began to cry.

  “Why? Why? What have I done to him?”

  Cole’s face was grim, although he tried to keep his voice calm. “Sweetheart, these things always look bad. The guys here can tell you, they’ve seen it before. He evidently was coming to have a confrontation with you, and when you weren’t here, he just went crazy. Probably was looking for some kind of proof that he could accuse you of being an unfit mother.

  “He doesn’t even want the boy — if he did, he wouldn’t have signed the papers giving him up. He just wants to get back at you.”

  His logic did little to assuage Gilda’s horror. “What if we’d been here?” she gasped as she continued to take in the extent of Scott’s rampage. “He might have killed us!”

  The officers were standing in the doorway. They had already been in the rooms and were waiting for Gilda to file a report so they could finish their paperwork and leave. “Ma’am, if it’s any comfort, it doesn’t look like anything more than a drunken rage. We see it all the time. It doesn’t mean he was intent on harming you,” one of them offered in consolation.

  “Unless things didn’t go his way and she got caught in the middle,” Cole muttered darkly.

  The officers looked at one another and realized Cole had a personal stake in this. They hadn’t considered until that moment just why Cole had accompanied Gilda. They knew he was a recruit; he had identified himself when he called from home.

  “Uhhh, ma’am…we’d like to have you go over this report with us, please?” requested one of the officers.

  Gilda nodded and headed back downstairs with them. She sat next to Mrs. Crutcher, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, there, we’ll get it all fixed. I promise.”

  “I don’t want that man in here ever again!” shouted Mrs. Crutcher in the most adamant voice she could muster.

  “Okay, ma’am, we can have you go down to the station and take out a personal protection order. Believe me, after we’ve run these prints, we’ll pick him up, wherever he is.” The officer tried to make her feel safer, but it was hard when half her home was in shambles.

  Gilda gave the officers the information they needed and shook her head when they asked about insurance. “Not much we can do for you, I’m afraid. You could sue him in civil court for damages if you want to.”

  Gilda shook her head again. “Scott doesn’t have a pot to piss in,” she told them, and they nodded. It was a story they’d heard all too often.

  The officers left and Cole remained standing by the doorway of the parlor, thinking. Gilda was still trying to comfort the sobbing landlady when he finally spoke up. “Mrs. Crutcher?”

  “Yes?” she answered between sobs.

  “I’d like you to go upstairs and pack a suitcase. I’m taking you on a little vacation.”

  “What?” she asked, not understanding.

  Gilda looked up at Cole, puzzled.

  “I happen to have an extra apartment at my place that I have the use of. Why don’t you lock things up here, come with us, and you can look after Carson and help Gilda? I’d feel better if she weren’t alone, anyway. I have to return to work, and I’d feel much better about it if you were there to look after her.”

  Gilda’s mouth dropped open.

  Mrs. Crutcher shook her head. “Oh, no… I have no money for something like that,” she explained, but Cole waved his hand at her.

  “Won’t cost you a penny, and there’s even a salary in it for you. What do you say? Would you help me out?”

  Mrs. Crutcher stopped her crying and looked at Gilda. “Is this something you would like?”

  Gilda was caught in Cole’s trap, although she admitted to herself it made good sense. She nodded and said, “Of course, it is.”

  Mrs. Crutcher nodded, blew her nose loudly, and went upstairs to pack her things. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she assured Cole as she ambled upstairs.

  Gilda sighed and determinedly stood up with the intent of going into her apartment to see if anything was redeemable.

  “Where are you going?” he asked her.

  “There’s got to be something he didn’t destroy,” she said hopefully. “Maybe something of Carson’s. This would just break his heart if he saw it.”

  “He needs to understand how dangerous his father can be, Gilda. If Scott should somehow catch up to him someday, Carson needs to understand what Scott is capable of.”

  “I’ll take some pictures with my phone, and maybe someday I’ll sit down with him. For now, though, I’m going to protect him.” She walked past Cole on her way upstairs, but stopped at the foot and put her hand on the newel post. “It’s an awfully nice thing you’re doing, Cole. I’m not sure I can ever repay you.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing and neither does Mrs. Crutcher. Let her come and stay close to us for a while. When they grab Scott and toss his ass in jail, we’ll come back and figure out how to put this place to rights. In the meantime, she’s really doing me a favor in keeping you and Carson safe.”

  Gilda sighed. “Why does it seem like my life is getting more and more complicated all the time? I keep trying to fix things, and they keep slipping beyond my fingers.”

  “You can’t control people or life, sweetheart. It pretty much has a life of its own. All you can do is choose how you will react to it.”

  Chapter 24

  Having locked up the apartment, the three of them, along with all Mrs. Crutcher’s luggage and boxes, were smashed into Cole’s car as they headed to his place. Mrs. Crutcher had insisted her pressure cooker and bundt pan were necessary, even though Cole assured her the kitchen was already fully stocked. The older lady was adamant, however.

  After checking in on Carson and letting the nanny leave, Cole took them down one floor and showed them the apartment where Mrs. Crutcher would be living.

  “Oh, it’s way too big for just me,” she objected. “Please, Gilda, could de Carson stay with me here? That way, you can have some privacy and go to work without waking him up?”

  Cole looked to Gilda for approval. He’d had in mind exactly the same thing — but for more selfish reasons, he had to admit.

  Gilda thought about it a moment and finally nodded. Stability was key to keeping Carson safe and happy, and he knew Mrs. Crutcher like a grandmother. He could come upstairs, or she could go downstairs, to visit at any time. It would be more like a house with two floors. Cole assured them he would have keys made for Mrs. Crutcher, and everyone could come and go as they pleased.

  The apartment Mrs. Crutcher and Carson would be occupying was as large, but not nearly as elegant as Cole’s. It was more neutral in decoration: a sparkling-white kitchen and subtle beiges dominated the color scheme. Mrs. Crutcher clapped her hands together in delight. She had never seen such a beautiful apartment and had never expected that a calamity such as what Scott had created in her home could result in such beautiful living conditions.

  This apartment had three full bedrooms, one of which was assigned to Carson, a second to Mrs. Crutcher, and the third was left open in the event of a guest.

  Cole arranged for Carson’s belongings to be moved downstairs and for Mrs. Crutcher’s personal effects to be put away. The apartment was completely furnished and in move-in condition. Mrs. Crutcher set her pressure cooker on the back of the stove, her symbol of taking over.

  “Mrs. Crutcher,” Cole said to her, “if you will make a list of things that you need from the store, I will see to it that they are delivered to you shortly. Don’t worry, order anything you want. And, you, young man,” he said, referring to Carson, “tell Mrs. Crutcher what you would like, as well.”

  Mrs.
Crutcher frowned. “I can’t let you do all that for me,” she told him. “I need to earn my keep. Looking after Carson is no work for me; but maybe you would let me clean these apartments and cook for you all?”

  “Sounds like a good deal to me,” Cole agreed enthusiastically. “How about you, Gilda? Will that work for you?”

  She smiled and nodded. “I’ve always liked Mrs. Crutcher’s cooking far better than my own. My mama never taught me how to cook. I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

  Mrs. Crutcher nodded in satisfaction, and she dug into her purse for a piece of paper and a pen and began making a grocery list, which she later handed to Cole.

  Carson had already discovered the remote in the large flat-screen in the living room and had settled in. Cole took Gilda by the hand, and they went upstairs to his apartment. He was on the phone for a short time, placing the orders for the things he wanted. He found Gilda seated in the living room, a glass of wine in her hand and another waiting for him on the coffee table. Her back was to him as she looked out over the skyline.

  “Cole, I cannot tell you what this means to me. Yesterday, when Scott showed up, I thought my life was over. Not only mine, but Carson’s, as well. You’ve bailed me out once again. How am I ever going to repay you?”

  “By not asking me how you can repay me.”

  “But, I can’t live here with you forever and let you pay for everything.”

  Cole put down the glass of wine after taking a sip and went to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I have no intention of letting you go anytime soon. You and Carson, and yes, even Mrs. Crutcher, are beginning to feel like family to me. I’ve never had that feeling before, Gilda. Sit down here for a minute; I’d like to talk to you.”

  She looked up at him and saw that his face was serious. She nodded and moved to the sofa, setting down her glass and folding her legs beneath her so that she might be comfortable as Cole began his story.

  “I’ve given you some idea that my father was not a good man. I think I’ve also shared with you that his marriage to my mother was almost non-existent. What I haven’t shared with you is how I managed to get through it all.

  “My father is a sadistic son-of-a-bitch. Even though he grew up with money, he seems to think that he grew up the hard way, which is absolute bullshit. He had everything he needed or wanted. He was constantly in trouble simply because he was an asshole.”

  Gilda noticed Cole’s frequent use of rough language when discussing his father, but said nothing.

  “He treated my mother like crap, he alienated anyone who tried to be a friend to him, and he beat me regularly just so that I would understand the concept of pain. In a word, he was a bully. He sent me to camp every summer. It wasn’t the sort of fun camp that you might think of; it was a military camp — one of the toughest in the world.

  “I spent my summers suffering. I learned to march twelve hours a day and then scrub latrines or whitewash the same wall over and over with only two hours left over for sleep. It was the sort of camp they sent boys who were trouble. Even though I didn’t fit into that category, my father made sure that the commandant believed I did. In short, I spent my summers being punished for things I had never done.”

  “Oh, Cole, I’m so sorry. I thought I had it bad, but my childhood was nothing like that.”

  “The purpose is not to compare childhoods. I just want you to understand that I didn’t have it easy growing up and that I know how people like Scott can be. I’m guessing that you carry a certain amount of guilt for letting him into your life and even letting him be Carson’s father.”

  She nodded. “I guess you do understand,” she said softly.

  Cole’s green eyes were like emerald daggers. “Now, you understand why I want to be a cop. I think I understand men like my father and like Scott and I don’t want them to win the game.”

  “But why New York City, Cole?” she asked him.

  “Because it’s the biggest cesspool in the country. It needs cleaning.”

  The buzzer next to the elevator sounded and Cole walked over to hear the doorman tell him that there were deliveries downstairs.

  “Check their identification and then the packages. Ask for the three-digit code I gave them over the phone. You know the number. If it all checks out, have them bring everything up to the tenth floor to Mrs. Crutcher’s apartment. See to it that it’s all put away.”

  Gilda could hear the doorman’s response and Cole stood by as the identification and packages were checked. The voice came again and Cole nodded. “Take it to the tenth floor,” he told him.

  “Do you want to go downstairs with me?” he asked Gilda.

  She nodded, leapt up, and joined him in the elevator. Moments later, the doors opened onto the tenth floor. The door shut immediately again as the elevator was summoned down to the lobby for the delivery men.

  Gilda picked up Carson and sat with him on the sofa, waiting. Mrs. Crutcher was beaming, as happy as a young bride settling into her new home. The elevator delivered the purchases and the couriers sent to bring them.

  The foodstuffs were first, and Mrs. Crutcher directed one of the men in putting everything away. “No, not on the top shelf. I can’t reach it that high,” she ordered him. It was apparent to everyone who watched that she rather enjoyed giving orders. Gilda smiled at this. Cole had done a fine thing, and now Mrs. Crutcher would be there for her, as well.

  Then came the surprises. The second deliveryman descended back to the lobby and returned with gift-wrapped boxes in brightly-colored foil. Cole directed him to place them on the floor in the living room and when both delivery men left, he called Mrs. Crutcher in to join them.

  “Carson, I have a few things here I’d like you to look over for me, please. You see, I happen to have this store ,and they carry things, well, let’s call them toys, and I’m not sure whether they are appropriate for young men your age. I was hoping you might try them out for me and let me know?”

  Carson’s face lit up and he looked to Gilda for approval. She smiled and nodded, and Carson wasted no time in flinging himself to the floor and seizing the first package. Box after box revealed yet a new toy or game. Each time, Carson’s face lit up and he exclaimed in a voice that suggested it was the greatest one yet, that he loved everything. It was clear Cole had made a lifelong friend.

  Mrs. Crutcher left the three of them alone as she explored her new kitchen. It was apparent from the sounds of pots banging and drawers slamming that she was already settling in. “I’ll have some dinner ready soon,” she called out in a loud voice to them in the living room.

  Gilda nodded, used to Mrs. Crutcher’s ways, but it was Cole who smiled with the deepest satisfaction. He felt a sense of family like never before. He made up his mind in that moment that he would never let them go.

  Chapter 25

  With their dual household settling into a routine, Cole reported back for the duration of training. He was due to finish very soon and was looking forward to seeing active duty.

  Mrs. Crutcher picked up from where she left off at her own apartment house, watching Carson and humming as she moved about the two apartments, cleaning and cooking. Not having had any children, her life now felt completely fulfilled. Cole had made yet another devotee, unbeknownst to him.

  Gilda showed up for work, stopping to complete the paperwork for a personal protection order against Scott. She knew the officer on duty and while he had long carried a torch for her, he knew that she was now taken, but still felt it was incumbent upon him to see to her welfare. He circulated the word about Scott throughout the precinct. It was highly unlikely that Scott — or anyone else for that matter — would get close enough to her to do her any harm.

  Cole had seen to it that his driver delivered and picked her up from the precinct each and every day, using Cole’s car. He also had lunch delivered to her so there was no excuse for her to ever be unaccompanied. Gilda loved the idea that C
ole was looking after her, although she felt somewhat stifled by all the supervision. She hoped that they would soon find Scott so her life could go back to normal. It was her plan to move back to the apartment building whenever possible, although she suspected Cole might have a problem with that.

  Dr. Keeler was continuing his sour mood of the previous week. Gilda was concerned, and at the end of the day, approached him in his office.

  “Dr. Keeler? Can we talk?”

  “About what?” His voice was surly and uninviting. Again, his face was pale and now his clothes appeared as though he had slept in them.

  “Doctor, we’ve worked together for a while now, and I can’t help but notice that you’re in trouble of some kind. I know you don’t like to talk about your personal life, but I also know that you’re alone.”

  “So?” he barked.

  “So…I thought I might reach out to you and hopefully, you will trust me enough to tell me what’s going on.” Gilda looked at him, a hopeful and compassionate expression on her face.

  “So.” Dr. Keeler spun in his chair, his glasses sliding down to the end of his nose. She noticed then the off-color of his eyes. “Since when did you become the doctor?”

  “I mean no disrespect, Doctor. Things are becoming pretty obvious, though. You know I’m not your enemy. It just so happens that I care what happens to you and just maybe I can help you out if you let me know what to do.”

  “What can you do?” he muttered, spinning back around to face a stack of papers that littered his desk.

  “It’s your liver, isn’t it?”

  “What makes you think that, smarty-pants?” he growled.

  “I see your eyes. That accounts for the color of your complexion. Your liver is in failure, isn’t it?”

  “And, what if it is?”

  “I’m not going to second-guess your medical opinion. That’s not my business, and I’m certainly not qualified. I’m also not going to suggest that you might be eligible for transplant. I’m sure if that something that interested you, you would have already put yourself on the list.”