by Liz Johnson
“Miranda brought her about a week ago. She said she didn’t know the girl very well, but she knew Joy needed help.”
Ashley pointed at a yellow house, and he pulled into an open spot at the curb adjacent to the green lawn.
“It must have been bad,” she continued.
He turned the key in the ignition, twisting toward her. “What?”
Ashley turned toward the house and opened the door before responding. “Whatever Joy went through. Whoever she’s running from did a number on her, and she wouldn’t talk about it. At all.”
He hurried around the hood of the truck, heat still rising from it, to meet her at the foot of the path leading up to the front steps.
After several seconds of silence, he held out his hand, motioning her to take the lead, but she shook her head. “We need to figure out what we’re going to tell everyone.”
Matt frowned. “Tell them about what?”
“About why you’re here.”
Matt still didn’t follow. His confusion must have been clear on his face, because Ashley continued, “The women inside that house trust me to keep them safe. I can’t just bring a strange—” her eyes dropped to his tennis shoes then moved all the way back up to the top of his hair “—man into their haven.”
“Then we’ll explain to them that I’m here for their protection.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper without any change in conviction. “And what? Tell them that I’m being threatened? That’s not going to make them feel secure, and security is essential for the residents of Lil’s Place.”
Matt rubbed his palms across the legs of his jeans. “I don’t like this any more than you, but you’re in danger. You’re all in danger. Until we nail this guy, every woman inside that house is a potential target. Even if this guy is only after you, I’d imagine everyone in town knows that hurting one of your girls is the best way to hurt you. So you and I need to make sure that your home and its residents are safe. We can keep them from becoming prey.”
“But—”
“I’m going to check the windows to make sure they’re locked and that the locks work. I’m going to look at the doors to make sure they’re sturdy. And then I’m going to go back to my hotel.” The urge to validate his statements with physical contact struck, and he went with it, resting his hand on her upper arm.
He could have wrapped his fingers all the way around her biceps if he’d tried. She really was much smaller than she came across, all gumption and guts.
Her eyes turned hard and then softer, and he’d have given anything to be able to read her mind. Instead he prayed that she’d consent. This was the first step to protecting Ashley. The first step to finding the man behind the notes.
Finally she nodded. “All right. But you’ll stay by me the whole time.”
He’d do whatever it took to find the creep responsible. And staying by Ashley’s side while he was at it? He’d never had a sweeter assignment.
* * *
As they stepped from the dim front step into the bright foyer, Ashley worried on her bottom lip. Had she done the right thing letting Matt into Lil’s? Would he frighten women already traumatized by men they’d trusted?
On the verge of changing her mind, she ran into Benita, a young mom. “Ashley! You have to see—” Her voice died on her lips as she spied Matt, still standing behind Ashley.
Should she introduce Matt or demand to know what had sent Benita into such a frenzy? Deciding Matt could wait, she stepped directly in front of the woman and grabbed her hands. “What’s going on? What’s happened?”
Benita’s gaze swept back to Ashley’s face. “It’s not that important.”
“Of course it is. What’s wrong?”
Matching pink spots appeared on her olive cheeks. “It’s really nothing...I just finished knitting Julio’s sweater.”
Ashley patted Benita’s hands, her voice rising. “I’d love to see it! But first—” she nodded behind her “—this is my friend Matt.”
Suddenly his arm snaked around her, hand outstretched to Benita, whose wide, unblinking eyes never left Matt’s face. Ashley twisted to get a better view of him, and when she did, her breath caught in her throat. All traces of determination had vanished. In its place was a smile so gentle and serene that she’d have let him into her home without question.
And Benita responded to it. Unclenching her fists, she slipped her hand into his much larger one. “Matt Waterstone, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Caution and trust battled across Benita’s face before she bowed her head and murmured an unintelligible response. When she lifted her head, her smile reached the whole way across her face.
“Did you say you’d finished knitting a sweater?” Matt continued talking, keeping her between him and Benita. “Could we see it?”
Benita’s eyes shone with something akin to pride. Something that had been missing since her arrival. She motioned for them to follow her into the living room, where a boy and two girls played on the carpet.
All three looked up from their game as the adults walked in, and Ashley made quick introductions, pointing out and naming each of the children. “Julio, Greta, Sara, this is my friend Matt.”
Again he offered that smile. The one that belied that he was a warrior, trained to do his job better than nearly anyone else on the planet. The one that made her stomach roll ever so slightly.
Suddenly he dropped to his knees next to the children’s board game and drew even with the smallest child. “Can I join you, Greta?”
The little girl tucked her chin in, but looked up at him through enormous blue eyes. Her bright red pigtails fell over her shoulders as her tiny fingers placed the dice into Matt’s weathered ones. He winked at the little girl and asked how to play the game just as Lil Kitrick entered, eyeing him with concern.
With shuffling steps she approached Matt, who popped to his feet, appearing at least twice Lil’s size. “Ma’am.” He held out his hand to shake hers. “Matt Waterstone.”
“Lillian. But everyone ’round here calls me Lil.”
His smile competed with the lights adorning the Christmas tree in the corner. “This must be your place.”
She nodded. “It was. It’s more Ashley’s now. But she does let me stay here.”
Ashley walked up behind her mentor, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Lil, you’re too humble, as usual. We couldn’t do any of this without you.”
After a few more words, Lil seemed to give her approval of Matt and moved to her rocking chair in the corner to knit. Matt dropped back to the floor and picked up the game with the kids.
She could have watched them play for hours, and she might have if Benita hadn’t drawn her to the couch, where a slightly uneven sweater lay over the arm.
The evening passed like a flash, the dinner table surrounded by curious glances toward their visitor. But it was Julio, sitting next to Matt, who finally asked the lingering question. “Why are you here?”
The boy’s mother looked as if she could fall out of her chair, hushing Julio with fluttering hands. But Matt gave the boy a lopsided grin, chewing slowly on a bite of dinner. Ashley chomped on her own mouthful, trying to beat him to the answer, but the baked chicken lodged in her throat.
After a quick swallow, Matt said, “I came into town to visit Ashley, and heard about some petty crime in town. Thought I could stop by and double-check that all your locks are working right.”
“Can I go with you?” Julio bounced in his chair, dropping his fork to the floor with a clatter. “Please.”
“Finish your chow first, and then I don’t see why not.”
By the time the meal was over and Matt had taken Julio and Benita around to each room, showing them how to test to make sure the window locks were secure, it was nearly ten.
Ashley tur
ned off the security alarm and opened the front door to let Matt step onto the front stoop. As she did, a chill ran down her spine like the weight of someone’s gaze heavy on her shoulders. She couldn’t make out any shapes in the darkness and decided the chill must have been caused by the cool evening air.
“We found a couple broken window locks, and the chain on the front door isn’t going to keep out more than a tomcat.” Matt stopped and looked over his shoulder in the same direction she’d glanced a moment before. He turned back to her with a furrowed brow, but he didn’t say anything about it. She wondered if he’d felt the same thing she had. “I’ll be back in the morning to fix those.”
“Thank you, Matt.” Without even realizing it, she put her hand on his arm, and the muscles below his jacket sleeve rippled at just her touch. Jerking back, she tried to cover her action. “You were great with the kids tonight.”
“Anytime.” His voice trailed off as he turned to peer over his shoulder again. “Are you expecting anyone tonight?”
“No.” She fought another chill. “Is there... Do you feel like someone’s out there?”
Matt’s head bobbed very slowly as his eyes traveled back and forth, scanning the lawn. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw jumped and his fists clenched. “Stay inside and lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me.”
Her objection died on her lips as a man in black materialized near the corner of her lawn.
FOUR
Matt growled deep in his throat, his knee screaming as he sailed across the lawn toward the figure still in shadows. This could be the guy who had threatened Ashley. This was his chance to pin down the jerk and get some answers.
It was dumb. Careless. Amateurish. The porch was welllit, and the guy was watching it closely. He should have pretended to leave and snuck around behind the guy, but it was too late now. As soon as Matt moved toward him, the man in black noticed and ran, too. His pace was no match for a SEAL running at top speed, but he had a pretty major head start. He hit the sidewalk seconds ahead of Matt, diving into a car idling at the curb.
Matt ran into the street, but was met only by the blaring horn and blinding lights of the car as it took off. He bounced off the offending hood and managed to land on steady feet.
Ashley ran up behind him as the car sailed away.
Probably a getaway car.
“Are you okay?” Her hand rested on his arm; it was strangely heavy for such a small woman.
He shrugged away from her touch and bent over at the waist, pinching his eyes closed against the fire searing down his calf. “I’ll live.”
Although the guys on his team would never let him live down losing a footrace to a thug, Ashley wasn’t quite as likely to ride him about it. Then again, he’d lost a valuable opportunity to end this whole thing right there. Maybe she should rag on him for it.
He should have caught the guy. Should have finished this thing.
“I think he’s gone.” She took two small steps back, reaching her hand out to him again, more tentatively this time.
He shook his head with a wry grin and straightened all the way up.
“What’s really going on with your leg?” In the dim streetlight, she glared at him. Hard. She meant business.
“Is that the look you give the kids here when they misbehave?”
“Yes.” She pulled on his arm until he stopped on the sidewalk leading to the front door. “I check out everyone who comes into this house, and you’re no exception. You don’t have to tell me the country, the mission or anything else classified. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I told you already—just a couple stitches near my knee.”
Her pale fingers squeezed his biceps like a kitten bite. “How many is a couple? Do you need to see a doctor?”
He looked toward the clouds covering the moon. How much could he say without scaring her? This wasn’t just about him. She had to worry about Tristan when he was deployed, too. She wouldn’t just dismiss the injury. She couldn’t. Not after ten years with a SEAL for a brother.
“About ninety.”
Her mouth dropped open, and her grip weakened for a moment. Then she quickly shook her head. “How’d you get them?”
“A guy with a knife who wasn’t very happy that I was trying to get us to the extraction point.”
“Who is ‘us’?”
He chuckled. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, staring at the ground for what felt like an hour. “Are you going to have to retire?”
He scooped her chin up with one finger; her skin was softer than suede. Her gaze darted around the street, around his arm, over his shoulder. Anywhere but his eyes. And it was suddenly clear. She worried about him. Not quite like she worried about Tristan. Not to the same extent, certainly. But she was concerned about his welfare, about his future.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been really concerned about him. Sure, the other SEALs watched his back, and if he was in danger he knew that any one of them would dive into the line of fire for him, but they weren’t so great at expressing concern—or any emotions at all. A punch in the arm was about as close as any of them got to saying “Hope you’re okay” or “Get well soon.” And aside from them, who else even gave him a second thought? His commanding officer was always yelling at him to be careful with C-4. His landlord was afraid he wouldn’t make it back from a mission and would miss a rent payment.
But genuine concern for him as a whole? Maybe his social worker from way back when, Miss Jorgens. She had looked like she was going to cry when she dropped him off with the Wellseys nearly thirty years before. Maybe she’d known then about his foster dad’s temper. It hadn’t stopped her from driving away.
Well, it was only fair that Ashley worried about him. He was going to worry about her, too, until whoever was harassing her was caught.
“Someday I’ll have to retire. But not this week. And certainly not because of this.” He dismissed his leg with a flip of his hand.
Her breath came out slowly between tight lips. “Do you need to see a doctor? Should I take you to the hospital? Or back to your hotel?”
He snorted. “Do you know the ribbing I’d get from Tristan and the others if I let you drive me to a hospital? I could be gushing blood, and I still wouldn’t let you do it.”
Her gaze shot to his, humor completely gone. “Are you bleeding?”
The air around them filled with his laughter. “No.” When the lines on her face disappeared and her shoulders relaxed, he winked. “I’m just slow and out of shape and apparently unable to dodge a car.”
She gave him a half smile for his half joke. Sure, he wasn’t in peak condition, but even with the leg, he could take most men. He just needed a little rehab. But he needed to work on that while he was in town.
“I’ll be back to normal in no time.”
When she was convinced of his general health, her eyebrows knitted together. “What about the guy that was here? Did you see his face? Or what kind of car he got into?”
“No.” He slapped his hand against his thigh. It’d been dark, the man mostly in shadows, and all he’d seen of the car were blinding high beams. “But maybe you should call Chief Donal and let him know you had a prowler.”
“I will.” She glanced over her shoulder at the front door. “Will we see you tomorrow?”
And tonight, if you look out your window. There was no way he was going back to the hotel when there was any chance that the guy from earlier might come back. But he had a feeling Ashley wouldn’t like that answer, so he kept it to himself for now. “I’ll pick up what we need to fix those locks and be here first thing.”
She sauntered to the front door, but turned back when he said, “Lock your door. Okay?”
She wrinkled her nose and
shook her head. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” She offered a tiny wave before slipping inside.
He waited at the edge of the sidewalk for fifteen minutes, absently rubbing his leg, as the lights in the house turned out one by one. When all was dark, he strolled around the perimeter. No cigarette butts or footprints. Toys in the backyard clean and put away. The bushes hadn’t been trampled. No sign of anyone lurking in the area.
That didn’t mean their visitor wouldn’t be back.
So Matt settled into his truck, stretched his legs across the bench seat and leaned against the passenger door. Crossing his arms, he watched.
* * *
Ashley rubbed her eyes and covered a yawn as she opened the front door.
Matt’s hand, in midknock, dropped to his side. With his other hand, he held a brown paper bag out to her.
“New locks?”
“Muffins.”
She laughed as she grabbed the bag and poked her head inside. More than a dozen in different varieties; the scent of cinnamon and brown sugar rose on waves of warmth. “Thank you. I was just making an omelet. These will go great with that.”
Leading him into the hallway and over multicolored braided rugs toward the kitchen, she stole another sniff into the sack of fresh pastries.
The faces around the kitchen table looked up from coloring books and crayons with a mixture of surprise and concern. But their uncertainty disappeared as soon as they recognized Matt.
“Good morning.” He nodded at Benita from the doorway, as though asking permission to enter, and when she smiled at him, he stepped into the room, still leaning on the edge of the doorframe.
“You all remember my friend Matt Waterstone, right?” She set the bag on the counter, then got back to work on the omelet. She poured the beaten eggs into a skillet on the stove and added ham and cheese as she introduced the others. “Matt, you met Benita and Julio and the girls last night. And this is Meghan, Greta and Sara’s mom. She works the night shift at the hospital and just got in this morning.”