Bad Dad

by Sloane Howell

  “Oh, I think I do.” He nodded and winced, but held his head high like he’d just regained control of the situation.

  I got nose-to-nose with him, right in his face. Listened for the bikers’ footsteps to my rear. “You think you’re well-connected. Maybe you are in Desire, Montana.” I smirked. “When I’m done with them, it’ll just be me and you.”

  Three steps each. Six total. The bikers were ten feet behind me. Not in striking range. They didn’t have guns. Not any big enough to hurt me anyway. I’d have noticed.

  Hastings nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see.”

  The bartender walked out from the back. He saw what was happening and turned right back around. I looked up in the corner. Security camera. Red LED lit up. Perfect.

  I heard the bikers take two more steps each. Four feet away.

  I turned around. They were huge, but out of shape. Big, tough-looking guys with beards and tattoos all along their arms.

  One of them glared. “You don’t belong here.”

  “I agree.”

  “You’re going to leave Mr. Hastings alone.” They both crossed their arms over their chests.

  It was like something out of an action movie, which let me know these guys had no clue what they were doing.

  I was six-four. Both of them matched me in height and probably outweighed me by fifty pounds each. They were both as wide as they were tall.

  I stared. “That so?”

  “Goddamn right,” said the second one.

  “Tell him to stay away from what’s mine. There won’t be an issue.”

  “See, that’s where we have a problem.” Hastings stepped around to the side. “I don’t like you. And I don’t like people telling me what to do.”

  I shrugged at Hastings. “Too bad.”

  “You heard what he said, asshole.” The first biker poked me in the chest.

  I stared down at his finger and glanced back up at him. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “I don’t?”

  I shook my head at him. “You should mind your business.”

  He had fear in his eyes. See it enough and you recognize it immediately. He folded his arms across his chest. A stupid thing to do when you’re within striking range of someone.

  “Mr. Hastings is our business.”

  “Then you should give him a message.”

  “Oh yeah?” He snickered. “What’s the message?”

  I closed the distance between us. Glared down my nose at him. “If he touches what’s mine again I’ll rip his legs off and kick your fucking teeth in with them.”

  His eyes widened—face paled. He gulped. His stare moved past me to Hastings then returned. He tried to regain his composure, but his voice shook a little when he spoke. “You think you’re a real badass, don’t you?”

  I stared over at his buddy and back at him. “I don’t have all day. Let’s get this done.”

  The second biker took another step toward us. “You’re not gonna be so fucking cocky here in a few minutes. You should enjoy breathing while you still can.”

  My eyes moved back and forth at them and my voice remained calm and even. “Listen to my words very carefully. What you hear is the sound of pure elation.” I paused for a moment. “Hit me.”

  The first biker took a step back. Glanced at Hastings and then at me. “Huh?”

  I moved both of my arms behind my back and held one of my wrists in the opposite hand. “Hit me.”

  He looked at Hastings again like I must’ve been insane. Hastings shrugged.

  “Make it count.” I glanced to his buddy. “Last chance.” I nodded to the door.

  Biker one reared back and then brought everything he had right at me. His fist connected square with my jaw. It turned my head slightly to the side. I looked up at the camera, then right back at him and smiled. “My turn.”

  His eyes widened.

  I lurched forward. He was expecting a punch and I caught him completely off guard. Efficiency and surprise were my preferred methods of combat. My head blasted into his face and sent him backpedaling across the bar. He stumbled a good twenty feet and collided with a rack of billiard cues that hung on the wall. The wooden rack splintered and half of it fell to the ground at an angle. All the wooden sticks spilled out onto the floor and rattled around. The other biker turned and stared at his buddy, and he looked like he might shit his pants. He pivoted and sprinted for the door. I horse-collared him by the back of his leather vest and yanked him toward me with one hand. His feet flew out from under him and he crashed flat on his back.

  The first biker shook his head like he’d just come out of a deep sleep and grabbed a pool cue from the ground. He swung it wildly while his nose gushed blood all down the front of him. He finally moved in too close. I caught the stick in my palm and yanked it away from him. Broke it over my knee, then whipped around high and hard. Caved in half of his face with one piece of it. I spun around and hammered the other guy’s knees, so he wouldn’t try to crawl away. Both men writhed on the ground.

  I dropped the pieces of the pool cue I’d just broken in half. Turned around to face Hastings.

  He stood there, mouth agape. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk.

  I grabbed him by the back of his neck and dragged him to the counter. Sat him down on a barstool.

  “Bartender!”

  The old man with the towel ran out. He looked around. “What in the—”

  “You have the security tape.” I nodded to the camera.

  Hastings shook his head at the guy through the grip I had on his neck. I smashed his face down into the bar top, then yanked him back up. Held him there. Blood poured from his mouth onto the glossy-finished wood. Didn’t care.

  “The tape?”

  The bartender ran to the back. He returned a moment later with a thumb drive. I took it from him. “If this isn’t the footage, I’ll be back.” I glanced over to the bikers still flat on the ground, moaning. “It’ll be worse.” I held up the thumb drive.

  He carefully grabbed it from my hand. “Sorry.” He shrugged at Hastings.

  I smashed Hastings’ face down again—a little harder for good measure. You had to make a point with people that didn’t like to listen.

  The bartender came back with a different one this time. I took it from him and looked it over. He disappeared into the back again. Didn’t want any part of what was going on in the front.

  I leaned down into Hastings’ ear. “Stay away from her. Touch her again and I’ll end you. Got me?”

  He nodded against the bloody bar top.

  I walked out.

  I PULLED UP TO CORA’S house. Walked to the door with my hood on and rang the doorbell.

  She pulled it open, glanced around, and then opened it wider. I stepped inside. “You okay?”

  She turned her back to me. I saw a hand go up to her eye. It looked like she wiped away tears. She sniffled. “I’m fine. Just some allergies.”

  I spun her around and hugged her tight. She broke down. Lost control. I wasn’t going to make her relive it. My stomach twisted as she bawled against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe how some men thought it was okay to say things and touch women however they wanted. Like they were property, only put on earth to amuse them. It set me on fire and I had to bite back my rage. I had to be there for Cora. She needed me. Needed comfort. She shook in my arms as I led her over to the couch. We sat there for about half an hour, her nuzzled into my chest. She cried over and over. I comforted her the best I knew how. I’d never been in this kind of situation before.

  “I’m not great at—this.”

  She sat up and tried to muster a smile. “You’re not bad.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re being nicer than usual.” She smiled. Then her face paled. “He told you, didn’t he?”

  I nodded.

  “What’d you do?”

  I said nothing. She didn’t need to know details.

  The whole drive to her place I’d started to doubt myself. T
o me it was neutralizing a threat. He put Cora in danger. I made sure it would stop. The civilian world didn’t work the same way as the world that I grew up in though. I’d done a very stupid thing, but at least I had the video. The cops could be on their way to my house by now. What if they arrested me or took Logan away? Hastings probably knew all the cops in town. Would the video even matter? I focused on Cora to take my mind off it. I’d deal with the fallout later. If they tried to lock me up or take Logan, we’d just disappear—again.

  “Did you hurt him?”

  I took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  Cora looked away and shook her head. “I don’t want you going to jail over me.”

  I placed my index finger under her chin and turned her to face me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her mouth curled into a smile at my words and she pushed my hood back. It fell down around my shoulders. She crawled up into my lap and draped her arms around me. Her cheek pressed into the crook of my neck. “Thank you.”

  I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to be anywhere else. Just wanted to hold her while she felt safe. I wanted her to always feel that way, forever.

  CHAPTER 12

  Cora Chapman

  IN THE PAST FEW WEEKS with Landon, coupled with the day Hastings had touched me, I’d started to observe everything.

  Landon hadn’t come out and told me to be hyper-aware, but sometimes when you’re around someone you just naturally pick up on everything they do. Landon always watched—surroundings, people, anything.

  He also barely ever left my side unless I was at school. Even then, I always had the feeling he was watching me from somewhere. When he’d said he would protect me, I believed him. Landon was different. He didn’t say things he didn’t mean. It was the only thing that got me through the days.

  I told myself I was stupid for even worrying about Hastings. He’d grabbed my ass. It could’ve been worse. He could’ve done more. Hurt me. At the same time, I wondered if that’s how it started for other women. If that’s how they rationalized things, even when it progressed into more serious abuse. Told themselves it wasn’t a big deal. He’d invaded my space without my permission. Against my will. It struck a fear in me. Whether it was grabbing my ass or something far worse, he’d stolen my control. Control over who could and couldn’t touch me.

  Hastings had steered clear of me which made me wonder about everything that had happened outside of what Landon told me. If I walked outside after school, Hastings ran to his car and hollered at Cory from the window. He never made eye contact. It made it a little easier to deal with. If he’d come onto me again, I might’ve had a breakdown. Just seeing him run away was enough to bring the moment back to the surface.

  Instead of sitting home alone, most of my free time was spent at the Lane house. I’d had a few nightmares about the incident with Hastings and I hated how much it got to me. I could smell his hot, sour breath on my neck, and feel his meaty palm gripping my ass. The anxiety and helplessness that flooded my system when I couldn’t get away or do anything because I was backed against my desk—that vulnerable fear would all rush back in and then I’d wake up in a cold sweat, panting. I hadn’t told Landon about the dreams because I was afraid of what he might do. Hanging out at the Lane’s kept my mind at ease. I never felt safe unless Landon was nearby.

  We went out on a few more dates, but never in Desire. That was the plan. Keep everything low profile until Logan wasn’t in my class anymore, and then smooth sailing after that.

  I walked outside and stepped down the porch at Landon’s house. Sat down on a lawn chair. Logan and Landon tossed a football back and forth across the yard. Even when Landon played with Logan he’d glance at me every few seconds. I’d smile back and it would set him at ease for the moment, but his hunger and intensity for me would always roar right back to his face.

  He had on one of those stretchy Under Armour shirts. His arms were massive, muscle on top of muscle—and his chest, forget about it. The man melted the walls around me like butter. Everything else faded away when I was around him.

  I pulled out my Kindle and started to read. Logan and Landon laughed like they could’ve played for hours in the front yard. The sound of those two kept me relaxed.

  Janet sat next to me and had her Kindle out too.

  “What you reading?”

  She fanned her face. “Something I shouldn’t be in front of people. Lawda mercy.”

  Her books had a lot more heat in them than mine. I’d read one of her recommendations and fanned my face through ninety percent of it.

  “What about you?”

  “Jane Austen.”

  “Well, that’s pretty close to mine.”

  “Oh really, who is it?”

  “Jana Aston.” She flashed me a devilish grin. “It’s about a virgin who falls for her gyno. And it is dirtayy, if you know what I mean.” She nudged me with her elbow and cackled.

  My thighs squeezed together. Landon didn’t know I was a virgin. It had never really come up. There’d been heavy petting a few times, but not much more. My stomach knotted, and I squirmed thinking about it. He probably assumed I’d had sex seeing as I was twenty-five. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, I just hadn’t dated that much. Hadn’t ever really met anyone that fit the bill, until Landon.

  I snapped out of my thoughts and nodded at Janet. “I’ll have to check it out.”

  “It’s Wrong.”

  “Huh? What’s wrong?”

  “The name of the book.”

  “What is it?” I leaned over. “You can tell me.”

  “No, honey. I mean it’s Wrong. The name of the book is Wrong.”

  “Oh.” I laughed at our little Abbott and Costello moment and added it to my wishlist. What could it hurt?

  Logan ran over to Janet and me. Landon followed behind him, the sun highlighting all the contours of his chest and abs as they constricted and relaxed with each subtle movement.

  “We’re thirsty.”

  Janet’s face stayed glued to her Kindle. Her eyes bugged out a little.

  “Why’s your face so pink?” Landon glanced to Janet.

  She shoved her Kindle down into her lap. “Huh? Umm, nothin’.”

  I shook my head at her and laughed. She mouthed “dirtayy” at me.

  The four of us headed up the steps to the porch. Tires crunched on the gravel road behind us. Landon whipped around.

  His eyes were locked on the car. I’d never seen him so intense and focused. I watched him closely. He was calculating.

  It was a black Lincoln Towncar. Completely out of place in the rural, Montana countryside. The windows were blacked out except for the front windshield. Two men sat in the front.

  Janet gripped my forearm and dug her nails into my skin. Her hand trembled. “Let’s go inside.” She shoved Landon out of her way to get to Logan. Landon stood there, staring like a statue frozen in chiseled granite. Janet grabbed Logan by the elbow and led him to the door. She gestured with her head for me to follow.

  Landon glanced back to me and back to the car. It crept up the driveway at an eerie pace. My heart thumped at the way Landon’s eyes kept flicking back and forth at us. I knew very little of Landon’s past, just snippets here and there, but something inside told me revelations were imminent. It was a gut feeling. I hopped up and followed Janet and Logan inside.

  Landon held a hand up for us to stop. He just stood there and shook his head at us. Focused his stare on Janet, as if they were communicating.

  Then he looked at me, showed me those slate-blue eyes. I felt in sync with his thoughts. His eyes told me No, I’m not hiding from this anymore. I knew he had to be running from something. What was it, though? Was he a criminal? On the run from the military?

  Strangely, him shaking his head, making us stop—it comforted me. My skin tingled and I caught myself leaning toward him. Drawn to him even more.

  The car halted about twenty feet in front
of the porch. Landon stepped down and put himself between us and the Lincoln. His feet were shoulder-width apart, arms folded across his chest. Every muscle in his back flexed through the elastic shirt he had on.

  The man in the driver’s seat appeared calm from what I could see through the glass. He looked older judging by a few wrinkles I made out on his face. I’d get a better look when he stepped out. The passenger was much larger, maybe Landon’s size. Looked just like Landon, in fact. I’d have had a hard time telling them apart. He wore thick black sunglasses that covered his eyes and I could only see above his chest.

  Bodyguard maybe?

  They looked like government agents or spies, which only served to kick the rush of adrenaline up another few degrees. I stepped in front of Janet and Logan. Teacher instincts came into play. Anytime there was a threat I put myself between the danger and my students.

  Janet’s hand gripped my shoulder and she leaned next to my ear. Her hand shook against my neck. “If he signals for us to run, you follow me. No questions.” She whispered where Logan wouldn’t hear. Bile crept up into my throat, but I had to stay strong. I had to.

  I nodded and reached up for her hand. Something told me she needed comfort too. I’d never seen her so frightened. Worry swirled down into my stomach like water circling a drain. My heart pounded, despite the fact I knew Landon would never put us all in danger.

  The man got out of the driver’s seat. He was tall and lanky, pale. Maybe six-two and probably in his mid-sixties. He had on a black fedora and a long black coat. It was something right out of a movie. Like a spy on a clandestine mission or the Grim Reaper stepping out of a hearse. I couldn’t help but think spies wouldn’t actually dress like that.

  Landon didn’t budge.

  The man held his arms out and smiled. He looked happy to see Landon, but there was nothing warm about the intrusion. Some people just had an evilness they carried around with them. A shiver worked up my spine. Suddenly, everything felt cold.

  “Been too long.”

  “What do you want?” Landon stood still, unfazed.