Renegade Father

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Wrapped in the deep blue terry-cloth robe the kids gave her for Christmas and drying her hair with a towel, she opened the door to her bedroom only to freeze, the towel slipping from her hands to puddle at her feet.

  Charlie Redhawk sat on her bed, his back against the carved oak headboard that had belonged to her grandmother and his legs stretched out in front of him.

  His boots were leaving wet, muddy smears all over her Rolling Star quilt, she noted absurdly.

  He gave her a mocking smile. "Trying to pretty yourself up for me? Don't bother. It's a losing battle. Besides, I'm not interested unless you've put a little more weight on that scrawny butt of yours."

  Her heart felt as if it would pound out of her chest. She drew a deep breath, hoping to calm this wild scramble of her pulse. "How did you get in here?"

  "The door wasn't locked. I figured since you knew I was coming for our little appointment, you must have left it open for me."

  Today was the deadline he'd given her to come up with seventy-five thousand dollars. How could she have forgotten? In all the emotional uproar of the last day, his ultimatum had completely slipped her mind.

  She tightened the sash on her robe then slipped her hands in the pockets to hide their trembling. "You're trespassing," she said, with as much coolness as she could muster. "I want you to leave."

  He gave her that same smirk. "What you want doesn't really matter, now does it, Annie?"

  It never had. She had wanted happily-ever-after and had ended up in hell.

  Charlie settled back against the headboard and crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. Not until we finish our little business together."

  "We have no business together. Not anymore."

  His soft, full mouth tightened. "Seems to me we got about seventy-five thousand in business."

  She could feel the nubby fabric of the pocket stretch out with every quiver of her fingers and the knowledge that he could still push just the right buttons with her infuriated her.

  Enough was enough. She had had it with men telling her what to do, how she should feel. She was a strong, confident woman and she would not let him do this to her over and over.

  She lifted her chin and stared straight into his eyes. "I've thought about it and I'm not giving you any more money, Charlie."

  His boots hit the floor with a crash and despite her best efforts, she flinched.

  "The hell you're not." His voice turned ugly and mean, the voice of her nightmares.

  Strong and confident, she reminded herself even as she fought the urge to flee. Strong and confident. "I'm not. Even if I could put my hands on that kind of money, which I can't, I wouldn't give it to you. We're done."

  "It's over when I say it's over."

  "No. It's over now." Was that woman with the clear, determined voice really her? Annie wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't heard it herself.

  "We're done," she repeated. "Get out of my house, Charlie, and off of my ranch."

  For a moment he seemed nonplused by her defiance. He scowled, looking at her as if a baby kitten had just bitten off a finger, then he shrugged. "Fine. Up to you. I guess I'll just head on over to the barn and have a little conversation with my baby brother, then. I'm sure he'll be real interested in what I have to say."

  She met his mocking smile with one of her own. "You're a day too late. He already knows all about Leah."

  He narrowed his eyes. "You think I'm stupid enough to believe you?"

  She might have found this heady new confidence somewhere inside her but that didn't mean she was foolish enough to answer that question honestly. "Why don't you go ahead and find Joe and ask him yourself?" she said instead. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you. He'd probably love the chance to show you again all those clever moves he picked up in prison."

  His face turned a mottled red. Both of them knew Charlie hadn't bested his little brother in a fight since Joe turned eight years old.

  He huffed out an angry breath. "I want my money, you stupid bitch."

  "And I want to barrel race in the national pro rodeo finals. I'm afraid neither one of us is going to get our wish."

  A muscle worked in his jaw and she could see him trying to figure out what had come over his docile, submissive ex-wife. Finally he scratched his cheek and shrugged. "Fine. If that's the way you want to play this, we'll do it the hard way. The money or the boy."

  She frowned. "What?"

  "You give me the money and I walk away. You don't, and you can kiss your little Charlie Junior goodbye."

  She stared at him, an icy chill settling in her stomach. How could she had forgotten the other hold he had over her? "Are you threatening your own son?"

  "I'm threatening you. Either you give me the money or I sue for custody of my boy. Wouldn't take much for me to prove you're not fit to raise a dog, let alone my kid."

  The laughter took her by surprise. It started low in her stomach, a little hiccup of air at first, then it rumbled up to work its way through her tight throat and exploded out into the room. Before she knew it, she was laughing uproariously, so hard her sides ached and she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

  He stared at her like she had slipped completely over the edge. "What the hell's the matter with you? Didn't you hear what I said? I'm gonna sue for custody of that precious little mama's boy of yours. Probably do him good to have a real man in his life."

  She drew in a gasping breath trying to still her laughter long enough to speak. "I'm quaking, Charlie. Really quaking." She sputtered again. "Let me get this straight, you really think a judge is going to give you custody of a seven-year-old boy?"

  "Sure. Why not? I'm the kid's old man."

  "Right. And let's see, what else do you have going for you? No productive employment for the last thirteen years except sponging off my ranch. A history of alcohol abuse spanning back to junior high school. Assault charges and a jail term hanging over your head. You're regular father-of-the-year material, Charlie."

  She watched his face change, saw his features go rigid with rage, but the blow took her completely by surprise. One minute she was ticking off his less than stellar attributes on her fingers, the next, red-hot fire exploded around her eye.

  She swayed backward from the impact and the raw pain.

  That one would leave a bruise.

  She should have expected the blow and tried one of her many subtle ways of evading it, but the last nineteen months of peace must have made her soft.

  Before she could gather her shock-scattered thoughts and step away—or at least relax her muscles to minimize the impact—he hit her again, this time an open-handed slap across her mouth, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood.

  He shouted angry curses at her—about how stupid she was, about how she didn't know anything, about how she was going to pay for talking to him like that—and for a moment she was frozen by old patterns of fear and subjugation.

  She couldn't think what to do, paralyzed by years of similar scenes. She had learned early that any efforts to protect herself always made things worse. Eventually she had just given up, had quietly surrendered her will.

  But not this time.

  She wasn't that weak, helpless girl anymore. In the last year she had found strengths in herself she never knew existed and she would be damned if she would ever stand for this again.

  Protests swelled inside her throat, then they erupted in violent, savage fury.

  "No!" she yelled fiercely before he could strike her again.

  The force of her outburst stopped him in his tracks and he stared at her, astonishment in his eyes.

  "Touch me again and I'll kill you," she promised in a harsh whisper, and she had never been more serious in her life.

  Charlie obviously didn't believe her. "Right," he scoffed, and stepped forward again, his fist already raised for another blow.

  * * *

  Joe heard the shout as he was walking past the ranch house on the way to the foreman's cottage. It was a c
ry of rage and of pain and he didn't stop to think twice, just raced up the porch steps and burst through the mudroom.

  Inside, he heard the sounds of a scuffle and Annie yelling again, chanting "no, no, no" again and again. He took the stairs two at a time and shoved open the door to her bedroom, then paused in the doorway, astounded by the sight before him.

  Charlie was backed into a corner by the bed, arms lifted in defense as Annie went after him, using her fists and her feet and her fingernails and any other resource she could find.

  She looked like she was more than holding her own and he was tempted to just leave her to it for a while. Heaven knows, Charlie deserved every blow and then some. Besides, it was probably cathartic, in some twisted kind of way, for Annie to finally fight back against the man who had spent years wearing her down.

  He would have let her go at it a few more moments, but then Charlie seemed to recover from his shock at what was probably a completely unexpected attack. He pulled his fist back ready to deliver a powerful blow that would have sent her sprawling, but before he could connect, Joe wrapped both arms around Annie and pulled her out of harm's way, still kicking and clawing.

  Lost in a haze of adrenaline and raw emotion he was all too familiar with, she would have turned on him as well but he held her close. "It's okay," he murmured in her ear. "It's me."

  She stilled instantly except for her quick, hard breathing and a steady trembling as reaction began to set in.

  Charlie didn't look any happier to see him than Joe was to find his half brother in Annie's bedroom. He was breathing just as hard as Annie and his cheek was bleeding where she must have scratched him.

  He reached a hand up and his expression darkened when he pulled it away and saw the blood. "This is none of your business, little brother," he growled. "It's between me and my wife."

  Joe's voice was dangerous, just like the look he sent his brother. "Unless you've gone and got yourself married again in the last few months, you don't have a wife. Not anymore."

  To Annie, he said softly. "Can I put you down now?"

  She nodded and he set her on her feet. Only then did he get his first look at her face, saw the vivid purple bruise already swelling one eye and the blood trickling from her mouth.

  Vicious fury broiled through him at seeing her once more marked by Charlie's violence and for a moment, he couldn't think straight. It was so much like all those other times, first with his mother and then with Annie.

  He was filled with the same impotent rage he had felt so often before, knowing he could do nothing to protect either one of them.

  "You son of a bitch," he growled. "I warned you what would happen if you ever touched her again."

  He grabbed Charlie by the shirt and shoved him against the wall so hard his head hit with a loud crack.

  His brother looked back at him with hate in his eyes. "What are you gonna do? Kill me like you did the old man?"

  "Try me," he bit out.

  "He's not worth it, Joe. Stop."

  He glanced at Annie and saw she was trembling wildly now, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

  She was right. As much as he wanted to pound Charlie into tiny little pieces, he knew it wouldn't accomplish a thing except maybe make him feel better.

  Violence didn't solve anything—he had spent a lifetime learning that bitter lesson.

  He let go of his brother's shirt. "If you want to walk away, get out now."

  Charlie swiped at the blood gushing from his cheek. "I want my money," he snarled.

  "What money?" Joe asked, at the same time Annie shook her head.

  "You're not getting any more," she said. "I meant what I said."

  "Then how about I tell loverboy here the real reason you married me?"

  "Tell him whatever you want," she said impatiently.

  "You really want me to do that? Tell him how you begged me to marry you so the kid he put in your belly didn't have to grow up the bastard of a convicted murderer? How you were so ashamed he'd touched you and you didn't want anybody to know?"

  Her face paled. "Get out of my house." She barely spoke in a whisper. "And I suggest you slither out of whatever rock you've been hiding under and get the hell out of Madison Valley. I'm calling the sheriff and I'm sure he's going to be very interested to learn you're back in town, especially when I tell him he can now include violating a restraining order to the laundry list of charges against you."

  "You're making a big mistake."

  "No. I've made enough mistakes in my life," she answered. "Now I'm finally doing what's right. I want you out of my life and out of my children's lives for good and I will do whatever it takes to make that happen."

  Charlie stared at them both for several moments, his face livid, then with a curse, he stalked out the door. "You're going to pay for this," he yelled on his way out.

  She winced once when the outside door slammed shut, but then there was silence.

  Chapter 16

  An awkward silence descended on the room as soon as Charlie slammed out of the house.

  The lapels of her robe had come apart during her tussle with him and now she pulled them back into place and tied the sash tightly. That done, she had nothing to do with her fingers so she knotted them tightly together.

  "I need to call the sheriff. He doesn't think I'll do it. I have to prove to us both that I will."

  Joe nodded his agreement, then listened while she picked up the phone next to her bed and reported that her ex-husband was back in town. Although her voice was calm and steady while she related the information to dispatch, she continued to shake and Joe fought the urge to fold her into his arms and hold her close.

  If he did, if he reached for her, he knew he wouldn't be able to let her go.

  He focused instead on the practical, the mundane. "You're bleeding," he said gruffly after she hung up the phone. "Let's get you cleaned up."

  "You don't have to do that. I can take care of it."

  Ignoring her protests, he led the way into the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet for something to cleanse the tiny cut at the corner of her mouth. As careful as he tried to be, she still winced when he dabbed a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic to it.

  "Sorry," he murmured.

  She gave a rueful smile then winced again as the movement pulled at the cut. "It's okay. You didn't do it on purpose." She glanced over his shoulder to study her reflection in the mirrored medicine cabinet. "That's going to be one nasty shiner, isn't it?"

  Remembered fury bubbled up inside him and he clenched his teeth together, wishing he'd had more of an opportunity to even the score with his brother.

  His gaze shifted from the reflection in the mirror to her and he didn't see any of the chagrin or shame he might have expected. Instead she had her chin lifted and was turning her head this way and that to get a better look at the black eye.

  The expression in her face made him think of C.J. when he'd hit the winning home run in a T-ball game last summer. She looked as proud of herself as if she'd just saved the world.

  And in a way, she had, he realized. At least her world. For her, the black eye was probably a badge of courage, a reminder that she had finally stood her ground.

  He smiled at her, unable to keep the tenderness from filtering through his gaze. "I don't know who was more shocked to find you whaling on him, Charlie or me."

  "Me." She gave a small laugh. "I swear, I didn't know I had it in me."

  "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

  Her skin blushed under his fingers. "I don't know. I must have looked pretty ridiculous."

  "You looked fierce and courageous," he answered, his voice quiet. "I was proud of you."

  The tiny bathroom, with its light oak and pale green trim, fell silent again. This time the silence was easy and comfortable.

  After several moments, Annie took a deep breath and spoke. "He lied, you know."

  "About what?"

  "The reason I married him. I wasn't ashamed
to be pregnant with your child. I would have been proud for everyone to know Leah was yours—I wanted to shout it from the highest peak in the Madison Range."

  The intensity of her voice startled him and his gaze met hers. Her eyes looked huge suddenly and the raw emotion shining in them reached right through his chest and yanked out his heart.

  "Annie…" he began, but whatever he meant to say was lost, crushed by his overpowering need to touch her.

  She responded immediately, her mouth sweet and welcoming under his, and he forgot all the arguments he'd come up with on the ride down the mountain, about how touching her like this again would be crazy.

  Maybe it was, but he didn't care anymore. The only thing that mattered was Annie.

  As their mouths twisted together, his body thrummed and seethed, desperate to release all this pent-up energy he had wanted to use up pounding Charlie into pieces.

  He wanted to take her hard and fast like he had earlier in the day. That would have more than done the trick to quiet the beast prowling through him, but he forced down the impulse to plunder, to devour.

  She didn't need that right now, he sensed instinctively. She'd had more than her share of violence and now she deserved some softness, some tenderness.

  He lifted both hands to cup her face, his thumbs tracing the curve of her cheekbones, and he drew out the kiss, slowly, leisurely. His mouth danced lightly over hers again and again.

  Her eyes drifted shut and her head sagged as if she couldn't remember how to work her neck muscles. He knew just how she felt, as if he were floating on some barely moving stream with cool water carrying him along and the sun's warmth soaking through to his bones.

  He kissed the little cut on her mouth, then pressed his mouth gently to the iridescent bruise forming around her eye.

  Her eyes fluttered open again and met his gaze. She looked stunned by his caress and very, very aroused. As he once more returned his mouth to hers she made a low, erotic sound in her throat that nearly made him forget he was trying to take things slow and easy.

  With their mouths still entangled, he scooped her off the edge of the tub and carried her through the door into the bedroom then laid her down gently on her old oak double bed. She wouldn't let him pull away but held him tightly to her as he continued his soft assault on her mouth.