“Of course.” She folded her arms and began with the usual passages, thanking God for the food and their blessings. He expected her to close, but instead, she paused for three full seconds. When she continued, her voice was fervent, pleading.
“Dear God. Please bless Sutton. He’s a good man, despite his hard heart, and he’s been through a heap of rubbish. Help him to find his way. Show him you care and work a miracle in him to penetrate that hard old heart. Please, Lord, give him peace.” She ended the prayer with a hearty, “Amen.”
“Amen,” Sutton repeated gruffly as he swallowed an unexpected ball of emotion lodged in his throat. What was peace? He hadn’t felt it in years.
“Dig in,” Agatha said, patting his shoulder.
Chapter 2
A sense of isolation wrapped around Sutton like a tourniquet as he walked through the crowd of people, children’s laughter floating mockingly around him. Nothing worse than seeing happy families together—a world of possibilities spread before them when, for him, there was only loss and pain.
Disneyland was Doug’s favorite place when he was a kid. Sutton had bought season passes every year, so they could come and go as they pleased. A grown man alone at Disneyland was no doubt a strange sight. He knew he intimidated people and had a commanding presence, and he caught more than a few parents eyeing him with concern, perhaps fearing he was a predator. He dismissed all outside distractions from his mind as he focused on riding Doug’s favorites, starting with the Mad Tea Party, adapted from Alice and Wonderland. Next, he’d ride Splash Mountain, then graduate up to the more thrilling rides like the Matterhorn that Doug had enjoyed as a teenager.
Several hours later, Sutton left the park feeling shaken and stirred, and went to the Sunnyside Diner. Though it was a greasy joint in a sketchy part of town, Doug had loved coming here to get hot dogs, fries, and strawberry milkshakes, food they never really ate anywhere else. Sutton and Doug had stumbled over the diner one evening, having gotten lost in an unfamiliar section of town before GPS was even a thought. Both the food and service were surprisingly good, so they made a point of coming back frequently. Eventually, Sutton got to know Mason, the owner, and a few of the servers, though he’d lost a few hubcaps parking his vehicle in this neighborhood.
This place, above all others, reminded Sutton of Doug. As he stepped in through the door, grease from the fryer was the first scent he detected. Then he caught the subtle fragrant whiff of burgers. The diner was nearly empty, only one man sitting at a table. He was bent over, intent on solving a crossword puzzle. He looked up briefly as Sutton walked past, then right back down.
Sutton wondered if Mason was here. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, so he hoped not. A few minutes went by before a waitress in her early thirties approached the table. She was a waif with a cap of nutmeg, curly hair. Had it not been for the dark circles under her eyes and her haggard appearance, she would’ve been pretty. Sutton figured the poor woman was probably working herself to death. Being a waitress day in and day out couldn’t be easy.
“Hello. Welcome to Sunnyside. My name’s Leslie.” A polite smile touched her lips. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Water with lemon. And coffee … black.”
He’d never seen Leslie before. Then again, it had been years since he’d been here. Sutton didn’t have a reason to come when Doug was in the Navy and then when he died … well, that changed everything.
Leslie’s lips pulled down in a frown. “Are you okay, Mister?”
He forced a smile. “I’m fine. Thank you,” he said mechanically, then saw the genuine concern in her soulful eyes. For a split second, they shared some sort of connection and he got the distinct impression she knew what it was like to truly suffer … to have everything ripped away while everyone else’s life went on as normal.
“Do you know what you want to order? Or do you need a minute?”
He rattled off the familiar items.
She jotted them down in her notepad. “I’ll be back,” she said, hurrying away.
Sutton scooted into the comfort of the booth. The door opened as a mother with two rowdy boys came in and sat down. Next, a college-aged girl stumbled in, her arms loaded with textbooks. Leslie returned with his water and coffee, then went to the table with the mother and boys to take their order. A blonde, peppy waitress emerged from the back to help Leslie take care of the tables. It was approaching the dinner hour, and it wouldn’t be long before the diner was hopping. As Sutton waited for his food, he let his mind wander back to the last time he and Doug had eaten here.
It was the day before Doug enlisted. He’d had a restless energy about him. While he was excited to join the Navy, he was nervous. Not scared, just hoping that his life would change the world in positive ways.
Sutton blinked away moisture and took a long drink of water, then chased it down with a few slurps of coffee, letting the liquid burn down his throat. Why had God accepted Doug’s death instead of a life which he was so willing to give to protect those who could not protect themselves?
That night Doug had teased Sutton, telling him he needed to go on a few dates, find a good woman to settle down with. Sutton knew he’d never be ready for that kind of pain again.
He’d met Liz in high school and fallen madly in love with her. He’d given her his whole heart, and thought he had hers as well. They planned to get married. Knew they’d get married. But in a bitter twist of fate like a knife twisting in his heart, Liz married the Duke of Gunthry at the same time Sutton was being dishonorably discharged, plunging him into the lowest time in Sutton’s life.
Leaving England behind forever, Sutton moved to America and met Jean on the rebound. They married quickly and Jean got pregnant with Doug on their honeymoon. It didn’t take long for Sutton to realize that Jean had married him for the money. She had little interest in him and even less interest in their newborn. Finally, when Sutton came across emails between Jean and an old boyfriend, he had enough and sent her packing. Jean was all too happy to go on her merry way, smiling all the way to the bank with her large settlement. He’d not seen hide nor hair of her since.
Leslie returned and placed a plate of food in front of him, along with a large strawberry shake. She motioned. “There’s ketchup and mustard in the caddie. Can I get you anything else?”
He looked at the hotdogs and fries. “I think I’m good. Thank you.”
The door opened as a short, muscular, rebel-type strode in. He wore a surly expression like the world owed him something. Sutton probably wouldn’t have paid much attention to the man had Leslie’s face not gone rigid. She flinched slightly, fear trickling into her eyes. On impulse, Sutton touched her arm. “Is everything okay?” He recognized fear. It was his old friend, his mate. Every day, he looked in the mirror and saw it frozen in the deep recesses of his own eyes.
She nodded, her lips drawing into a thin line. Then she stepped back quickly like she didn’t want the man to know Sutton had touched her.
The man slumped down in a booth. He was staring straight at Leslie, a hard look on his face. “Do you know that man?”
“Yes,” she uttered. “He’s my husband.”
Sutton noticed that her hand shook as she pushed a strand of hair away from her face and took in a breath like she was trying to muster the courage to talk to him. Everything in Leslie’s demeanor screamed apprehension as she walked haltingly over to the man.
The inner-workings of Leslie and her husband’s marriage was none of Sutton’s business. He didn’t know Leslie. Knew even less about her husband. Yet, he’d never been able to stomach a bully. And it was obvious that’s exactly what this man was.
They began speaking in low tones. Then the man slapped the table with the palm of his hand, causing Leslie to jump. She glanced around like she was embarrassed, then put a hand on his arm to quiet him. He jerked his arm out of her grasp, then drew back his fist like he was going to strike. Revulsion tightened Sutton’s gut when Leslie shrank back like an abused an
imal trying to protect itself from being hit.
The man let loose a string of expletives. The woman with the two boys gasped in outrage, as she glared at the man.
“Let’s not do this here,” Leslie began in a calm tone, like she was trying to reason with a child.
The man belted out a raucous laugh. “Why? You afraid you might lose your pathetic job.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re worthless.”
For the first time … in as long as Sutton could remember, he was thrust out of his numb state. He crumpled his napkin in his fist, blood pumping like a sledgehammer against his temples.
“Howie, please,” Leslie pled. Her face was blotched with red and she looked like she was trying not to cry.
Rage twisted Howie’s features as he grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her pale flesh.
Tears sprang to Leslie’s eyes. “You’re hurting me. Please, stop.”
Sutton sprang to his feet, rushing to Leslie’s side. “Let her go!” he growled. Everything in him wanted to pick this weasel up by his stringy hair and punch his lights out. Sutton caught the sliver of alarm that trickled into Howie’s eyes. Sutton was in top physical condition and had been trained in various martial arts, he knew it wouldn’t be difficult to take the man in a fight. He knew Howie’s kind—a coward who got some sick thrill out of beating up on women to boost his low self-esteem.
“This is between me and my woman and it’s got nothing to do with you,” Howie sneered, but he released Leslie’s arm, revealing ugly red spots indented with half-moons where his fingernails had been. Leslie stepped back, rubbing her arms.
“You okay?” Sutton asked.
She nodded, then looked away.
Howie jumped up. “This is none of your business.” He cursed loudly.
Sutton had spent the last six months trying to control the futile rage building inside him. And now he had a target on which to vent that anger. His body tensed as he balled his fists, his voice cracking like a whip through the diner. “Me and you outside. Now!”
Howie rocked back, the whites of his eyes popping. “Y-you’re crazy, man.”
Indignation burned through Sutton as a calloused smile stretched over his lips. “You have no idea. I have absolutely nothing to lose.” He hardly recognized the murderous tone in his voice. In some perverse way, it felt good to think about hitting someone who actually deserved it. About not having to hold back. “You start something with Leslie, you’re going to finish it with me.”
“I got no beef with you man,” Howie muttered, backing away. Sutton felt the man’s fear ooze out and slither across the floor like a slimy worm.
Howie gave Leslie a withering look. “You’ll pay for this,” he said as he pushed past her and practically ran out the door.
Sutton turned to Leslie. The poor woman looked as fragile as a house of cards about to tumble. “It’s going to be all right, Leslie.”
Tears spilled over her cheeks as she bit her lower lip. “No, it’s not.” The words were spoken so softly, Sutton wondered if he’d imagined them. “Excuse me,” she gulped, her hand going to her mouth as she darted back towards the kitchen.
For a second, Sutton just stood there, not sure what to do. His eye caught on the woman with the two boys.
“Good for you,” the mother said, a note of vindication in her tone.
He nodded before going back to his booth. He slid in and looked at the food, now cold. It would’ve been hard enough to eat the food as it was, considering his emotional state. But now that he was fighting mad, it was impossible. He pushed the plate away. For a second, he considered going after Howie and beating the living daylights out of him. But how would that help? Sutton would beat Howie, then Howie would go home and vent his rage on Leslie.
He hoped Leslie would come back out, but she didn’t. Instead, the blonde waitress approached the table and refilled his water. Her eyes sparkled with interest as she looked him up and down. Then her eyes went to his plate. “Sugar, you didn’t touch your food. Would you like for me to bring you something else?”
“No, thank you. Is Leslie still here?”
She jutted her thumb. “Yeah, she’s on her break.”
Sutton feared he’d made things a thousand times worse for Leslie by stepping in. He didn’t need this today. Maybe he should just leave and pretend it never happened. Even as the thought flitted through his mind, he realized he couldn’t leave this hanging. Doug would never walk away from this. He’d help Leslie … at any cost. He’d given his life to help other people. Sutton cleared his throat. “Would it be possible for me to speak with her?”
The blonde shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose. She’s out back, behind the diner. Talking to her husband.”
Sutton’s pulse ratcheted up a dozen notches, his voice rising. “How could you let her go out there alone? You know what that man’s capable of.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m her mother,” the blonde retorted, rolling her eyes. “And it’s not like Leslie’s old man won’t find her at home.”
Chills ran down Sutton’s spine. That’s exactly what he was afraid of.
She waved her arm, encompassing the room. “Besides, I’ve got paying customers to take care of. Speaking of which, would you like for me to bring your check?”
She was obviously tired of wasting time on him. “No need.” Sutton slid out of the booth and stood, retrieving his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it and threw down a hundred-dollar bill.
The blonde’s eyes bulged as she clucked her tongue. “We don’t get customers like you in here every day,” she chirped, looking at him with a new admiration.
Sutton went for the door.
“You be sure and come back now,” the blonde said sweetly as he rushed out.
Chapter 3
As he rounded the back of the building, Sutton heard sobbing. Then he saw Leslie, sitting with her back against the brick wall, huddled in a fetal position. Anger burned over him, sending sharp pains shooting up the base of his skull. He whirled around, looking for Howie, but he was nowhere to be found.
He stepped up beside Leslie. “Hey, you okay?”
She jerked, looking up at him. The sight of her took his fury to new heights. Her right eye was swollen and purple, a thin trickle of blood running from her lip. “Go away. Please,” she squeaked, her voice breaking. She gulped a few times, making a wheezing sound as her shoulders shook, then she buried her head in her knees and continued weeping.
Maybe he should’ve walked away, but it wasn’t in him to retreat. He couldn’t walk away when everything in him screamed that he needed to help this woman. He sat down beside her in the dirt of the alley and let her get it all out.
When Leslie realized he was beside her, she lifted her head in surprise. The blood from her lip was smeared across her face, tears spilling down her cheeks. She sniffed and used the back of her hand to wipe her nose, which was running like a faucet.
“Why?” She took in a ragged breath and tried again. “Why are you still here?” She took in more labored breaths, trying to get her emotions under control.
“Because I never could leave a man, or woman, behind.”
“I don’t understand. You don’t even know me.” Her shoulders were still shaking.
He gave her a tiny smile. “I know you’re hurting and that you’re desperate—desperate for it all to stop.”
She hugged herself, clamping her lips together.
He touched her arm. “Tell me about Howie.”
Panic seeped into her eyes, her lower lip trembling.
“Why don’t you leave him?”
A laugh scratched through her throat. “I can’t.” The sorrow was replaced by a wild look, reminding him again of an abused animal.
“Because you love him?”
She shuddered. “Because he’ll kill me and my son.”
He went cold all over. “Why don’t you go to the police?”
A macabre smile split her lips. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” She shook h
er head. “You don’t know Howie. He has nothing to lose and he never gives up.” Her voice dribbled off into a stilted silence.
Sutton ran the options through his mind. He could take Leslie to the police to file a report, but like she said, it wouldn’t do any good. Howie would just take his wrath out on Leslie and her son. Alarm slithered down his spine. There was a child involved. There was no way Sutton could turn his back on this. Today was about honoring Doug, so he would fix this. Then he could go out knowing he’d done something right.
“How long has Howie been beating you?”
“We’ve been together … almost ten years.”
It boggled Sutton’s mind to think Leslie had been putting up with this for a decade. It was a miracle she wasn’t dead already. “He’s been beating you the entire time?”
“No, he was all right, at first, as long as he stayed off the bottle. It got worse a couple of years ago when we found out our son has leukemia.”
Sutton felt like the air had been knocked out of him. “Why then?”
“He’s angry that our boy’s dying, I suppose. Blames me. Says if I’d taken better care of him, then he wouldn’t have gotten sick.” She sucked in a breath. “Or that if I earned more money, we could get him better treatment.”
His jaw clenched. That was ridiculous. Cancer could affect anybody. “What type of work does Howie do?”
“He was working at a warehouse job, driving a forklift, but got laid off six months ago when he showed up drunk.”
The more Sutton learned about Howie, the more he detested the guy. Maybe he should’ve gone with his first inclination and beat Howie to a pulp. “So, let me get this straight, Howie sits around on his bum, then beats on you, blaming you for your son’s illness.”
She let out a half-laugh. “Pathetic, I know.” She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes bulging. “This isn’t me. I was never gonna be one of those women who let their husband beat them.” She cleared her throat, spreading her hands. “And yet here I am.” Her brown eyes hardened to black. “I don’t care what Howie does to me. I just have to take care of my son.”
The Resolved Warrior_Navy Seal Romances Page 2