by Lori Foster
For her part, Charlotte was pleased that Mitch wanted her by his side.
Or was he just not thinking?
Whatever the reason, she was oh-so-keenly aware of the iron strength in his arm, the warmth emanating from his big body and the frantic pumping of her own heart.
“You look good,” Elliott said, infusing some pride into his tone. “Big, strong.”
“I look like you.”
Elliott actually grinned. “Indeed, you do.”
Ros shrugged away from Brodie and Jack, then hiked her purse strap up over her shoulder and smoothed back the long strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail.
Better composed but no less furious, she looked up at the man she’d once loved enough to marry, the man who had given her two wonderful sons. Charlotte knew that’s how Ros thought about Elliott, because she’d told her so. Ros was aware of his faults but, according to her, divorcing him did not negate his paternity.
Most times Ros treated him kindly without tolerating his nonsense.
Not today.
“You, Elliott Crews, are the most reprehensible, irredeemable, irresponsible and selfish person I’ve ever had the misfortune to know.”
Elliott frowned down at Ros in consternation. At fifty-eight, he was still a very handsome man, his bearing proud, his shoulders rock solid. He had a way of wearing his sandy brown hair that looked casual and unaffected but still drew female appreciation.
Elliott might not have it in him to ever settle down, but no one could doubt that Ros was his one true love. If he could be a better man for anyone, it would have been for her.
“Is this about Mitch?”
Agog, Charlotte’s mouth fell open. Of all the stupid things to ask—did he seriously not understand the situation?
The cavalier question set Ros off again and this time, she managed to pop him one in the shoulder.
More out of surprise than pain, Elliott winced, but Ros pulled back, biting her lip and shaking her hand.
Unwisely, Elliott asked, “Did you hurt yourself?”
New fury had her drawing up until she looked a foot taller. “You hurt me. You hurt everyone who ever cared about you!” Shaking her injured fist at him, she demanded, “How could you?”
He leaned away from her fury. “How could I what?”
Playing peacekeeper, Brodie stepped between them before Ros could hit him again. “Don’t play dumb, Dad. She has reason to be pissed and you know it. We all do.”
Jack, never as diplomatic when it came to his father, said, “Even I’m surprised you’d stoop so low, and it’s not like I ever expected much from you.”
Aggrieved, Elliott looked at Mitch again. “This is about you, I guess?”
Mitch offered an awkward shrug. “Apparently, but that’s not why I’m here. I never meant to—”
Everyone started talking at once, including Charlotte. Knotting a hand in his shirt, she drew his attention first. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
One brow cocked, Mitch looked down at her with a hint of amusement reflected in his golden-brown eyes. His much larger hand settled over hers, engulfing her fingers in warmth. “No?”
“Absolutely not,” Brodie said.
And Jack added, “Not to him. Not ever.”
Mitch ignored them, choosing to keep all his concentration on her.
Floundering, Charlotte muttered, “I thought we had this settled.”
He gave one small nod. “Looks a little different now, with him here too.”
“They’re right,” Elliott said, drawing Mitch’s gaze. “This is where you should be. In fact, I’m relieved you’re here. I was looking for you back at your old place but the entire house is gone. Wiped away. There’s nothing but an empty lot and large equipment. Something about expanding the highway.” His gaze warmed. “I was hoping you’d come here.”
“You left him there,” Ros reminded him. “You left him alone.”
Elliott shook his head. “I—”
“Your selfishness sickens me.” She turned away.
“Ros, honey...” He caught her arm, but she jerked back from his touch and his hand fell to his side. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
At that, both of Mitch’s brows rose.
He, better than anyone, knew the facts. Probably because he didn’t want to cause a scene, he stayed quiet and just listened.
It killed her that he felt he needed to do that. Neither of the other brothers would hesitate to give their father hell when he needed it. And he needed it now.
In her opinion, Elliott had behaved badly one too many times. But this, walking away from his son, was something that the Crews family might not be able to forgive.
“I have my faults,” Elliott said, sounding annoyed. “I won’t ever say I don’t.”
All the glares intensified—except for Mitch, who stood away from the others, both physically and emotionally. Charlotte leaned into his side. He could stand apart if that’s what he wanted right now, but by God, she’d stand with him.
Accepting that, accepting her, he tightened his arm around her back.
“You have plenty of reason to hate me,” Elliott said to Ros, “and I’ve been damned surprised in the past when you didn’t.”
“That’s changing,” Ros informed him.
His mouth firmed. “You know me, honey, better than anyone. Do you honestly believe I wanted to leave Mitch?”
“You always left us,” Jack reminded him without sympathy.
“You had her!” Elliott jabbed a finger toward Ros. “Hell, I knew you were well taken care of.”
“No thanks to you, Dad,” Brodie pointed out.
“I know that. I know I’m a grade-A bastard. But with Mitch...” His gaze softened and he rubbed his mouth. “Newman threatened to hurt him, okay? Him and his mother. He said if I came back around it’d be them who paid for it.”
“You left,” Ros corrected, “because Newman threatened you.”
“That’s what you think?” As realization dawned, that they all did in fact believe it, Elliott growled. “Not fucking likely.”
“Watch your mouth.”
That warning came from Jack, Brodie and Ros, and it seemed to amuse Mitch. After shaking his head, he glanced at each of them, and shook it again. She even heard his small chuckle.
Was he finally seeing, maybe accepting, what it meant to have family in his corner? If so, hallelujah. In Charlotte’s mind, it was past time.
Though that small smile stayed in place, his hand started rubbing little circles over the small of her back, sort of caressing, maybe just restless.
Whatever, she liked it.
It showed that he wasn’t unaffected, but also that he felt at ease with her. Like her, he wanted the physical connection.
“I don’t blame you,” Mitch finally said. “Newman threatened everyone, and he often followed through. He said he’d neuter you, right?”
Surprise took Elliott’s brows high. “You heard that?”
Mitch shrugged. “It explained why you stopped coming around.”
“Well, understand this.” He started toward Mitch, until both Brodie and Jack blocked his way. Chagrined, Elliott relented. “Newman hated it whenever I was around, and he told me so every chance he got. Big deal. I didn’t care. Not until he stated that if he saw me again, it’d be you and Velma paying for it. He was damned explicit in those threats too. Said even if I called the cops on him, he had friends who’d get to you both.”
Thoughtful, Mitch studied him. “Probably true. His cronies were as cowardly and cruel as him.”
Elliott looked away, then back. “I talked to Velma, offered to put you both somewhere safe, but she wouldn’t go. She kept saying she loved Newman, that she needed him. I told her what Newman had said and she...” His voice trailed off, then with apology, he admitted, “It di
dn’t matter. Not enough.”
The same devastation Charlotte felt was reflected in the dark eyes of Ros, Brodie and Jack.
And Mitch... Mitch’s eyes held stoicism, pride and the awful acceptance of his mother’s shortcomings.
“She was an addict,” Mitch said, disrupting the pained silence as if her addiction explained everything—the neglect he’d suffered, the love and protection she’d withheld. “Newman supplied her fix and that made him the most important person in her world.”
For him to state the truth so baldly, Charlotte imagined Mitch had accepted the crushing pain long ago. He didn’t show it, but she felt it for him, so much so she had to blink back tears.
Softly, Elliott replied, “I know. I just didn’t know what to do about it—except steer clear of him. That’s why I started trying to see you in secret.”
Still sorting it out, Mitch frowned. “He said he ran you off because you valued your...”
“My balls?” Elliott scoffed. “He threatened one ridiculous thing after another. Every single time I was there, actually. He knew I wasn’t afraid of him, and that’s why he switched up the threats to you and Velma.” This time when Elliott pressed forward, Brodie and Jack stepped aside to let him. “I was worried about you, son. I checked in with Velma often, sent her money a few times a year. She said you were doing great, but I didn’t really believe her—especially when she reiterated what Newman said, warning me to stay away.”
New tension traveled over Mitch. “She never told me.”
“Shit,” Elliott muttered, looking away. “I swear to you—”
“I believe you.”
Very quietly, Charlotte asked, “Did she tell you Mitch went to prison?”
Elliott’s chin jerked up, almost like he’d been struck. He breathed a little harder, then shook his head just as hard. “No,” he said through his teeth. “No one mentioned that.”
For a time the two men just stared at each other, emotions, questions, grief silently passing between them.
“Newman dragged you into one of his deals, didn’t he?” Sawing his teeth together, Elliott asked, “Did he make it sound like life or death?”
“Pretty much, yeah. For Mom, it would have been.”
When Elliott looked at Charlotte again, she explained the details of it. At least, as much as she knew about it, given the bare bone facts Mitch had shared.
“She never said a word.” Elliott worked his jaw. “Over the last year, she hasn’t even answered my calls—”
“She’s gone,” Mitch interrupted. He filled his chest with a slow breath but otherwise maintained his statue-like stillness. “Overdosed.”
“Jesus, son.” Elliott looked like he wanted to embrace him, but Mitch’s stance—as cold as carved granite—shut down the idea before it could happen.
Had Elliott ever embraced him? Many times she’d seen him hug Brodie and Jack, sometimes whether they wanted it or not. But then, they had Ros as a buffer—a bighearted woman who reminded them that Elliott was their father any time they got fed up with him. She’d explain that he did love them and was doing the best he could while being the flawed man he was.
From all that she could tell, Mitch had never had anyone to nudge him along, to assure him of love.
To champion him.
Full of sincerity, Elliott said, “I’m so damn sorry.”
“My mother—”
“She had her demons, son. I knew that.”
Mitch nodded.
Elliott tilted his chin toward at Ros. “She could tell you I’m not the sticking around kind. I would never deny that. But I would have helped Velma start over if she’d have let me.”
Mitch searched his face before apparently accepting what he said. Some of his tension seeped away. “I tried too—with the same result. No matter what Newman did, she clung to him.”
No matter what Newman did... Those words covered a lot of possibilities, none of them good.
“It wasn’t a healthy love.”
“Not by a long shot,” Mitch agreed.
Ros made an effort to calm her tone, but there was no disguising the anger in her posture. “You knew all this, Elliott. You knew what type of man this Newman person was, you knew that his mother struggled with addiction, and still you let him run you off, and then he made life for Mitch as hellish as he could.”
“Ros.” Though Mitch spoke softly, steel underlined the rebuke. “It wasn’t like that. Besides, I told you I didn’t stick around there either.”
“Because you left when you were still a minor,” Brodie said. “And you haven’t yet said where you went.”
“Here and there.” Mitch’s chin notched a tiny bit higher. “It’s not important.”
Charlotte had an awful suspicion what that might mean, as did the others. It seemed most likely that Mitch had survived on the streets. He might not want to talk about it, but his family did—and they were never easy to dissuade.
“I should have killed that son of a bitch when I had the chance,” Elliott growled.
“I wish you had,” Ros snapped. “You might still get your chance since he’s been seen around town.”
Giving Ros a sharp-eyed glance and getting her nod in return, Elliott slowly smiled. “It would be my ever-lasting pleasure to beat him into the ground.”
It was the oddest thing, seeing the remoteness fade from Mitch’s eyes. He didn’t lower his chin and his shoulders remained stiff, but he huffed a short laugh. “All that arrogant confidence...” Glancing at Brodie and Jack, he asked, “Looks like you inherited it, huh?”
“As did you,” Ros replied.
Jack smirked. “But luckily little else.”
“What about a love of cars?” Elliott bragged. “You sure as hell didn’t get that from your mom.”
A car door slammed and someone laughed.
For the first time since they’d seen each other, Elliott looked around, and that prompted Charlotte to do the same. Good Lord, she’d forgotten they were on a public sidewalk! At this time of night, Freddie’s bar was the busiest establishment in town.
She was relieved to see there were only a few people milling around: a younger couple across the street, two men standing outside the bar smoking, and a mother with her kids getting into her car.
Only a few, but enough that in a town the size of Red Oak, news of the family squabble would be the talk at every breakfast table tomorrow morning.
“We’ve caused a spectacle,” Elliott grumbled.
“That’s all on you.” Clearly, Ros wouldn’t give an inch. “We run a respectable business here. We’re liked by the town. You’re the one—”
Elliott tried to schmooze up to her. “It was a shitty situation, honey. What did you want me to do?”
As if she’d been waiting for that question, Ros shot up to her tiptoes to say close to his face, “You should have brought him to me!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AT FIRST, MITCH WASN’T sure he’d heard her right. But Brodie and Jack both nodded, and Charlotte squeezed closer, so...damn. He couldn’t credit Rosalyn’s crazy idea, but no one else seemed surprised. It was so ludicrous that he laughed, the sound choked and disbelieving.
Charlotte looked up at him, her watchful eyes full of understanding. Yeah, she’d aligned herself with him real quick. He hated to admit it, but it helped, having her close, so he was in no hurry to let her go, despite his agreement with Brodie and Jack.
Before Rosalyn resorted to blows again—on his behalf—he cleared his throat. “Look, this whole thing is...uncomfortable.” What an understatement. No one had ever fought over him before, so he had no basis for how to handle it. So far, getting irate hadn’t helped, and neither had distancing himself. Ros wore such a defiant look, and she could be so unpredictable, that he quickly added, “I appreciate the sentiment, I really do.”
�
�It’s not a sentiment.” She returned the power of her glare on Elliott. “It’s what should have happened.”
He could see that she honestly believed it. “But how would that have worked?” In a mocking tone, Mitch said, “Honey, I’m home and I brought along my bastard kid for you.” He laughed. “No one wants that.”
Almost in unison, Brodie, Jack and Charlotte said, “You don’t know her.”
No, apparently he didn’t, and he’d sure as hell never met anyone even remotely like her.
“Look, I don’t hold a grudge against Elliott, okay? So no one else should either. I’d rather let it go.” He was better equipped to deal with anger or rejection, not...whatever this was. “Can we just look to the future? That’s why I’m here.”
Grudgingly, the others gave in—except for Rosalyn and he figured she’d deal with Elliott in her own good time, just as she’d apparently been doing for years.
To switch topics a bit, Mitch said to Elliott, “You came out of the bar. I take it Newman isn’t in there?”
“Sorry, no.” And with a gleam in his eye, Elliott asked, “Any idea where he’s staying?”
Shaking his head, Mitch said, “He’s laying low somewhere, but he’s still around. I know it. We thought you were him, and I have to tell you, I was looking forward to seeing him eye to eye.”
Going for a joke, Elliott said, “Guess I disappointed everyone again.”
It fell flat in a big way.
With no welcome to be found, Elliott deflated. “Seriously, I’m sorry.” He glanced around at the unfriendly group. “Any way I can help?”
“You’ve done more than enough,” Ros said.
“Right. True.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. Rocked back on his heels. Looked around again, and gave up. “Guess I should get going then.”
The ensuing silence weighed heavily on Mitch. None of them invited Elliott to stay, and he didn’t think it was his place.
But damn, this all felt off. In so many ways, he’d brought trouble when that was the very last thing he wanted to do.
It also felt oddly right because he knew, suddenly knew deep down to his bones, that he had people on his side. They’d said as much, repeatedly. But now it was more than words.