Vince’s eyes widen, his face reddening. “What did you call me, boy? You show your dad resp—”
Jack cuts him off before he can even finish the word. “Respect? Really? I just watched you choke my mom, hit her, pin her to a wall, then throw her across the room! Not to mention what I heard you say to her. Screw you!” he shouts, pointing a finger at Vince. “You wanna call the police? Fine. Go for it. I’ll be damn glad to share everything I just witnessed with them.”
Well, that answers my question as to how much he saw and heard. Pretty much everything, from the sounds of it.
“They won’t believe you,” Vince tries to reason.
“Yeah? Sorry, but the blood and bruises that are covering Mom tell me differently.”
I have no idea where my son’s strength comes from, but it gives me the courage that I need to stand up for both of us.
“Vince,” I say and wait until he turns to face me. For a slight second, I swear I see regret flash across his face before it’s gone. I move slightly in front of Jack, reaching behind me to place my hand on his arm. “I’m only going to say this one time. We. Are. Done. Don’t come after us. Don’t mistake this for some argument or misunderstanding. Say goodbye to Jack.”
“Jack,” his voice cracks. The flash of regret is back, only now it lingers and pain is included. He knows he’d stepped over the line, knows his mistake, and maybe a small part of him has some sort of remorse, some pang of guilt. Seeing the disappointment in his son’s eyes as he looks at the man who he once looked up to apparently makes him realize what he’s done. But it changes nothing. What has happened today is irreversible.
“Bye, Vince,” Jack says with conviction, making my heart break for him.
He turns me around, grabs my purse from the hook by the door, and hands it to me. We walk into the garage, climb into the car and still haven’t said a word to one another.
It isn’t until we are a few miles away that the reality of what just transpired takes hold. My hands shaking, the sobs begin to wrack my aching body so suddenly. I pull over to the side of the road and look over to see my son’s shoulders shaking. Jack has tears streaming down his face as I lean over and grab his hand.
“Jack…”
He reaches up with his free hand and swipes angrily at his face and looks over at me. In a shaky voice, he says, “Don’t, Mom. Don’t make excuses for him. Don’t apologize. Just… don’t.”
“Okay.” My voice is quiet, allowing him the time he needs to digest everything he’s witnessed.
Jack squeezes my hand and shifts his gaze on me, tears still streaming from his eyes. He sniffs and wipes under his nose with the back of his hand then shakes his head. “I don’t want to know how long it’s been going on. I don’t care if that’s the first time or the hundredth time. That’s done. I mean it, Mom. That’s. Done. Never again.”
“Okay,” I say again.
“I mean it, Mom. That’s done. Never again,” he repeats.
I am not sure why he repeated everything he just said, whether it is for my reassurance or his. It doesn’t matter, I understand how serious it is. How serious he is.
“Never again, Jack,” I assure him.
“I won’t let it happen.” His voice is no longer shaky but full of what almost sounds like fury.
“I know you won’t. I won’t either. I promise,” I assure him, squeezing his hand again.
“Promise?” And with those words, I am instantly reminded of just how young he is.
“I promise.”
Whatever he sees when he looks into my eyes must be enough. He releases my hand and blows out a deep breath and nods once. “Okay,” he says and takes another deep breath. “Okay.”
And right now I know. I will never again allow myself to trust a man with my heart the way I trusted Vince. I will never open myself up like that and I will never, ever allow my son to see anything like that again.
CHAPTER ONE
Carly
Three years later
“Ms. Hanson! Ms. Hanson! Look at my purple cast! Isn’t it beautiful!?” Harper Ryan’s adorably sweet and cartoon-like voice sounds from behind me.
I gasp as I spin around with wide eyes to find the feisty six-year-old beaming from ear-to-ear with a bright purple cast — or what must be purple but has so many signatures on it already that it looks like it’s been covered in graffiti.
“Harper! What happened?!”
Jack came home from the Ryan’s house last night and told me what happened. His buddy, Grady, Harper’s older brother, is on Jack’s football team. He’s a year older but has become a good friend to Jack. And, from the sounds of it, not only Grady and his older brother Cole, but his friends and teammates are more than a tad protective over Harper, the youngest of the four Ryan children, having known her since she was born. He also told me that Harper gave him a very stern warning not to say anything because she wanted to be able to tell me, but he was worried about her and wanted me to know going into my day. I’m so glad my acting skills are good enough for a first grader because hearing her side of it is just perfection.
“I was riding my horse, Shadow, and all of a sudden BAM!” She claps her hands together loudly, making the other kids turn and look our way. “I was on the ground. I don’t even know what happened! But guess what? I was so brave. I hardly even cried and didn’t get scared one single bit!”
“No way! It does sound like you were very brave! Where did you get all that bravery from? Do you have a magic potion?”
“You’re funny, Ms. Hanson. It’s not magic at all! My daddy says it’s from him, but my mama says he’s a big baby compared to her because he totally chickened out when she wanted to go on this big rollercoaster. She wasn’t scared, so I think it must come from her. ‘The Coles are brave,’ is what mommy says.”
“I’m gonna have to side with Tess on that one.” A deep voice cuts in, causing me to spin around once again.
I almost swallow my tongue because, holy crap, Captain America is standing in my classroom. The bluest irises I’ve ever seen assault me but that’s not all my greedy eyes take in. I’ve never been a fan of tattoos. They make me think bad boy and well… bad boys make me think of Vince. But this? Him? That!?! I can honestly say I have to close my mouth to stop from gaping at him. Am I drooling? The scruffy beard covering his face has me clenching my fists to stop from reaching out and running my fingers through it. Or, you know, licking it.
He’s wearing a black short-sleeve shirt tight enough that I can see the muscles bulging out from under the fabric, tattoos running down his arm creating a sleeve that has my mouth watering. A bright blue The North Face puffy vest, a pair of faded jeans that hug his muscular thighs, and black boots complete a perfect package. The entire thing shouldn’t work for me as well as it does, but as I do my embarrassing once-over, checking. Him. Out. In. The. Middle. Of my first-grade classroom, I realize it totally works.
Well, goodbye, dignity. It’s been nice having you around.
Embarrassing doesn’t even cover it.
But confusing does.
I’ve barely glanced twice at another man in so many years, I almost forgot what attraction and interest in another person feels like. And worse yet, despite my efforts to stop gawking, I can’t.
The moment my brain finally decides to catch up with the rest of me, my face immediately erupts in flames. Hot guy has to notice it, and by the way his lip is twitching as he gazes back at me, there’s no mistaking that he has.
I look away, hoping to shake myself out of the trance, and when I finally gain the courage to look his way again, I extend my hand and make my way in his direction to introduce myself, but the mild embarrassment I felt moments ago over staring at him? Gone. It catapulted directly into mortification.
My shoes were obviously a big hindrance, being TOMS and all, and I trip over a carpet square, careening directly toward him. Given the fact that my hand was already extended, the chain of events just seems to go from bad to worse. Next thing I k
now, my cheek is firmly pressed into his chest, and my right hand is… well, let’s just say that it’s suddenly somewhere the guidance counselor strictly forbids in the classroom.
“Goodness! Oh my. No — no, no. I’m so sorry!”
He grunts but wraps his arm around me lightly, likely to hold himself from crippling over in pain. I retract my hand quickly and cover my face, but for some reason I will go to my grave not understanding, my cheek is still pressed against his chest.
“Are you… oh my gosh… are you okay? I’m so sorry. Beyond sorry. I can’t even.” I finally stand myself back upright and tug on the black sleeves of my long-sleeve shirt and worry the corner of my bottom lip.
“I’m… fine,” he croaks, his eyes moving over my face, landing on my lips for a second longer than appropriate.
“Are you sure? Do you need… um… ice or something?” I ask him, my hand on my forehead. I want to crawl in a corner and cover up with a blanket.
He rubs his hand over his face as he stands to his full height and smiles lightly. “I’m positive.”
“I’m so…” I begin, but he puts his hand up to stop me.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He seems to be waiting for me to believe him. He raises his eyebrows and reaches for my hand then squeezes it just once before dropping it. “I mean it. I’m fine. It was an accident. No harm. No foul.”
I stare at him for a few moments, seeing only sincerity in his eyes. I blink once, look away. Blink again and look back at him. I smile then roll my lips together and blow out a breath.
“Hi, I’m Ms. Hanson. You are?” I have a feeling I know who he is. Harper hasn’t stopped bragging about her Uncle James all week. I knew her parents, Barrett and Tess Ryan, were taking an impromptu vacation in some cabin in Northern Michigan, and Tess’s brother was watching the kids while they were gone, because kids tell their teachers everything. And I mean everything. Granted we know only a small percentage of it is based on truth, but still, parents be warned. We hear more than anyone can possibly imagine.
“James Cole. This little squirt’s favorite uncle. Right, Harper?” he says looking down at her with a big grin.
She has a horrified look on her face, being a witness to the disaster that just unfolded, but then as most six year olds do, she moves on quickly. She rolls her eyes and responds in a bored tone that tells me this is not the first time she’s told someone he’s her favorite. “Uh huh, that’s right. All the way to Pluto and back.”
“Well, don’t be too excited about it,” he teases then shifts his gaze back to me. “Like I was saying before the… Let’s just call it the incident, shall we?”
I cover my face with my hands as the mortification seeps through, and he continues speaking. I drop my hands at my sides and see he’s also watching Harper do what looks like a reenactment for her classmates. “Harper had a little accident last night at her horse riding lesson. She’ll be fine, clearly.” He snickers and shakes his head.
“Yeah, seems like she made a speedy recovery,” I say quietly. “Harper,” I call over to her as I reach for a Sharpie on my desk.
“Yes, Ms. Hanson?” She comes over my way, her big blue eyes staring up at me.
“May I?” I ask and hold up the marker.
“Yeah! But leave room for my mom and dad, okay? They’re coming home from their vacation early from not being able to sleep alone because they miss me.”
I smile at her as I hear James choke on his laughter. She is too cute for words. Spunky and sweet. “Of course,” I murmur.
I sign her cast near what looks like the entire Liberty High School football team, my son’s name included, place the cap back on the marker, give her a big hug, and let her go back to her storytelling before school starts for the day.
I turn and notice James staring at me, causing my blush to return. I scrunch my nose and glance away then look his way again. “So,” I start, hoping to deflect the bit of awkwardness that we had fallen into, all thanks to me, of course. “Anything I need to know for Harper today?”
“Nope, her doctor said she can participate as long as it’s not too rough. It was a pretty minor break, so nothing to be too worried about. Basically, all is normal except she has a bright purple accessory attached to her arm for a little while.” He winks at me from underneath his black baseball cap with the outline of a deer head on the front and… Oh. My. Gosh. My insides quiver. I know he doesn’t mean anything by the wink, but my body can’t help its reaction to him. Hello, high school. Seems I’m walking your immature hallway again.
“Seems as though it’s more rainbow-colored already with all those signatures.”
“Ha, ha! I know!” he says, his eyes lighting up as he speaks. “Her older brother Grady’s teammates are a little overprotective, it seems, and all had to come over last night to make sure she was okay.”
“Yeah, my son Jack was actually there last night.” I lean in closer to him, desperately trying not to sniff him, and lower my voice. “He told me about what happened but said she wanted to tell me herself and made me promise to act surprised.”
“You did well.”
“Why, thank you,” I say and curtsy because he makes me an even more awkward version of myself.
James grins. “And I appreciate it, Ms. Hanson,” he says in a quiet voice. His eyes sear into mine, making me fidget under their intensity.
Either he doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it because he continues on. “Listen, I promised her I would have lunch with her this week and, since it’s Friday, I figured I’d better make good on my promise or I’ll be on her naughty list — her words, of course.”
We’re standing so close I can smell the spicy scent of his body wash mixed with the cinnamon gum he’s chewing. The combination has my senses firing on all cylinders, bouncing back and forth with each other, making me feel lightheaded.
“Oh! Lunch here? Today?” I point to the ground like a lunatic. “Yeah! Mm-hmm! Yup! That’s totally fine!” The entire string of nonsense is said in a much-too-high voice. Like a damn teenager. It’s annoying even to my own ears. Ugh. All that’s missing is a hair toss. I close my eyes and shake my head at my own ridiculousness. My shoulders drop and I sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. What I meant to say is, yes. That’s fine. Just check in at the office when you come back.”
“Perfect,” he says as he flashes a bright smile my way.
Have.
Mercy.
His smile.
Oh, what the heck is wrong with me? Just hearing that he’ll be back in a few hours has my stomach fluttering? Which is ridiculous because I’ve literally just met the guy. Beyond that, he’s my student’s uncle added to the fact that I have no desire to even consider dating someone right now. Or ever. But for some reason, James has my heart racing.
“Alright, so I’ll see you later? No. Shoot. I meant you’ll be back later to have lunch with Harper? And yeah. Class. I need to teach class. Class!” I say in a loud voice and do our signature clap to get their attention to which they return immediately.
“Ms. Hanson?” James says with a laugh to his voice.
I take a deep breath and turn in his direction. “Yeah?”
“I’ll see you at lunch,” he says with a blinding smile and that damn winky bright blue eye.
I blow out a breath and reply, “Okay.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I must be having an off day.”
“I get it. Happens to everyone.” He shrugs like my insane behavior is no big deal. Maybe it isn’t to him. I’m pretty sure Captain America is probably used to people falling all over his feet.
Just as I’m about to reply, the natives become restless and remind me that I am in the middle of my classroom surrounded by first graders.
“I’ll let you get back to your class, Ms. Hanson.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cole.”
“See you in a bit, squirt!”
Harper runs through the classroom and wraps herself
around James’s legs. “Bye, Uncle James!” she looks up at him and points a tiny finger in his direction with narrowed eyes. “I want Subway for lunch. Got it?”
“Anything for you, baby girl,” he says as he bends down and gives her a hug then what looks like some secret handshake that only the two of them are privy to. He stands up and ruffles her hair then fist-bumps about every other eager student in the classroom.
Well, there go my ovaries.
CHAPTER TWO
James
Holy shit. The minute I climb back into my car after dropping off Harper at school I immediately start doing a little recon. I need to find out more information about who Ms. Hanson is. Like her first name, for example. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and obviously, it’s Ms. rather than Mrs., but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to question the fact that I desperately want to know.
Unfortunately, my detective skills aren’t proving very strong, and all I find is something on the school website that tells me her first name and email address. Nothing on Facebook, or BookFace, as Barrett calls it. In fact, I can’t find anything that can possibly be her or Jack on any form of social media. Which is odd. A sixteen-year-old not on social media might be the eighth wonder of the world.
I can ask Tess tonight when they get home, but I don’t want to encourage her. I know where her mind will go if I ask — not that it’s not similar to where my own mind is traveling to. I’m just not sure I want her involved. At least not yet.
I have a few hours to kill before I need to be back here with Subway in hand, so I can have lunch with Harper and as much as I may be trying to deny it, I’m already looking forward to the fact that I get to see Carly again.
I spend the next few hours cleaning up the house from the chaos that ensued last night. After Grady’s buddies came over to see Harper, the house wasn’t necessarily in perfect condition. I made supper for everyone and, even though they helped clean up, the tornado that is teenagers seemed to leave its wake. Tess and Barrett are coming home early from their vacation because of Harper’s accident, and I don’t want them to walk into a disaster.
A Better Place Page 2