The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2)

by Ava Miles

  “We’ll get your cell phone then. Where is it?”

  “In my…be-be-bedroom.”

  “Okay. Robbins.”

  “Yes, sir,” said another officer standing in the doorway. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with her phone.

  Her fingers kept hitting the wrong buttons on the smartphone, and the officer finally had to help her by pulling up the number from the contact list. When Rye answered, she squeezed her eyes shut to fight fresh tears.

  “Rye!” His name was a whimper.

  “Honey, oh, thank God! Christ, Tammy, are you and the kids okay? We’ve been beside ourselves.”

  “We’re safe…now,” she said, trying to stop her voice from quivering, but it just wouldn’t obey. “Oh, Rye…it was horrible.”

  “I’m so sorry, darlin’. The alarm company called my phone the minute the panic button went off. I just…I wanted to tear something apart to get to y’all.”

  Even in his violence, his voice trembled like hers, and she couldn’t reply over the tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “We’re flying home as soon as the plane arrives,” he added after a jagged inhalation.

  “But…you hate flying,” she sputtered.

  “Jesus, I’d fly to the moon right now to get to you and the kids. Honey, I’ve arranged for Amelia Ann to come home from her business trip as well, and Daddy’s coming.” He sniffed then, something she’d never heard him do, and she gave another sob.

  “How are the kids?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Scared.”

  “I called J.P., and he’s going to come stay with y’all until we get there.”

  She wouldn’t be alone. The relief was almost too much to bear. “That’s…” Her words dried up.

  “Clayton is already looking into hiring additional security for the house after the police leave. I swear to you I’ll keep you and the kids safe.”

  She knew he meant it, but it didn’t change what had happened. “I know that.”

  “I love you, Tammy. And the kids. We’ll be there as fast as we can. Tory sends her love too.”

  “Uh-huh,” she whispered.

  “Hang on, darlin’.”

  When he ended the call, all she could do was rock her babies and say, “Shh…Mama’s here.”

  She kept reminding herself that her family was on the way as she watched hulky officers pass the open doorway in bullet-proof vests, firearms on their belts, radios chattering, a constant reminder of the violence that had come into their home.

  When John Parker appeared in the doorway with another officer, her lip trembled and all she wanted to do was run across the room and have him sweep her up in his arms, anchoring her so her shaking would stop.

  His face looked white under his summer tan as he finally rushed toward them. Kneeling on the bed, he wrapped his arms around them all. She couldn’t move her own arms, but she wanted to clutch him the same way the kids were clutching her. She pressed her face into the stubble on his cheek instead. His soap of forest and spice filled her nose and helped her draw a deep, fortifying breath.

  “I’m here,” he told them. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

  She knew he was only trying to comfort them, but deep down she also knew it was nothing but a polite lie.

  Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

  Chapter 13

  Holding the woman he loved and the kids to whom he’d given his heart, John Parker vowed nothing would ever harm them again. When Rye had woken him from a dead sleep at 4:04 a.m. with the news of the break-in, he’d rushed out of the house carrying his shoes in his hands, imagining with each mile what might have happened. And how he somehow could have prevented it if only he’d been with them.

  As he held them now, everyone crying, his throat swelled up like a balloon, and he simply couldn’t speak. His eyes grew wet as well, and he pressed his face into Tammy’s soft blond hair, trying to pull himself together.

  He needed to be strong for her. She’d been so strong tonight, getting herself and the kids to safety, and now it was his turn to step up.

  The officers had stepped out of the room and were speaking quietly in the hallway, giving them some privacy. Rye had greased the wheels for his arrival, so he’d been allowed through the police barricade at the gate after showing his driver’s license—thank God he’d remembered to bring his wallet, rushing out of the house like he had. Six police vehicles were parked in front of the house, and men were swarming the property, one with a German shepherd. When he’d been cleared to go into the house, another canine unit had been coming up from Rye’s record studio in the lower level.

  He hadn’t stopped and asked questions; his whole compass had been pointing him to Tammy and the kids.

  But he had questions.

  A whole pile of them, and for the hundredth time, he wondered if one of Rye’s fans could have done this. Right now, it was the only explanation that made sense, and based on their quick conversation on the phone, Rye agreed.

  Speculation could wait. Tammy and the kids needed him as much as he needed them right now.

  “I was so worried about y’all,” he finally said, finding his voice again. He kissed Tammy’s hair and then the kids’ too.

  “Oh…Mr. McGuiness…” Annabelle sobbed then, and it was like someone had driven a pitchfork straight through his heart.

  Poor little baby girl. He rubbed her back. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m here now. It’ll be all right now. Your Mama took right good care of y’all. Y’all were so brave.”

  One of the kids had wet their pants, and the odor of fear was ripe in the room. Hot tears from Tammy and the kids coated his neck and shirt. He sensed Tammy’s struggle to regain control. He shifted and sat against the headboard, then pulled her and the kids as much onto his lap as was possible, Annabelle’s little dog too.

  Rory knuckled away tears and lifted his eyes, and John Parker would have given a million dollars never to see another kid stare at him like that. “Bandit’s gone.”

  Fear squeezed his guts. If that bastard had…

  The kid’s voice fell to a whisper. “I think the bad man hurt him.”

  His rage peaked, but since he didn’t know what to say, he just rubbed the child’s back.

  Tammy raised her head then, and their eyes locked. He could see in hers the same fearful certainty he felt.

  Something had happened to the boy’s precious dog.

  They lapsed into silence, and when John Parker sensed the tears had dried and the trembling had leveled off, he shifted to pull his phone out and dial Rye.

  “I’m here. Everyone’s safe.”

  “Good. Belle has finalized arrangements for a private plane for Tory and me. Dammit, I wish we weren’t so far away by bus, but it would take us eleven hours to get there, and that’s way too fucking long. Once the plane gets here, we should be there in a couple hours.”

  “We’ll be here.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but he couldn’t speak freely with the kids around.

  “Put Tammy on for a moment.”

  John Parker looked down at the mussed blond head cradled against his chest. She hadn’t moved except to comfort the kids and lean into him.

  “Tammy, honey,” he whispered. “Rye wants to talk to you.”

  She lifted her face. It was chalk-white.

  “Rye?” she said softly when she took the phone. Their conversation was short, and soon she nodded and said, “We’ll see you soon.” She handed John Parker back the phone.

  “Rye?”

  “Thanks…for being there.”

  Had he ever heard Rye’s voice break before? “You don’t need to say it.” He clicked off and threw the phone across the bed.

  “Come on, y’all, let’s lay back and rest a bit.”

  Annabelle’s body hadn’t moved for a while. He thought she was asleep, but couldn’t see her face, which was buried in Barbie’s dark fur. He eased them back until everyone was in a reclined position. Rory finally fel
l asleep too.

  “You should get some sleep too, honey,” he whispered to Tammy. “You did enough tonight. I’m here.” He reached out a hand to cup her cheek, more than concerned about the glassiness in her hazel eyes. Shock, he knew, a power-pack dose of it.

  “I should probably change Annabelle,” she whispered, her voice steadier now. “She’s wet.”

  “It can wait a while.” She was sleeping, and he didn’t know whether the officers would let them move through the house to get her a change of clothes. “Lie on down. See if you can rest a bit.”

  “Mama,” Rory whispered suddenly, and John Parker glanced over to see that the kid was only half-asleep. “Have they found Bandit yet?”

  Tammy pulled him closer, his little blond head resting against her chest.

  He saved her from answering what could be an untruth. “We’ll find him, son. I promise. Go to sleep for a while. I’ll watch over y’all.”

  As he met the eyes of the woman he loved, there was gratitude in them and something else he couldn’t quite decipher.

  Chapter 14

  In that space between dreams and consciousness, Tammy moved to turn over to escape the suffocating pressure in her chest. Rory and Annabelle were sleeping with her. The reason was elusive through the haze of her fatigue. Her bones ached, and her skin felt like she’d gone swimming in freezing water. Was she sick?

  Then she remembered. The break-in. Dear God.

  A warm hand caressed her arm then, a man’s hand—a sensation so rare she gasped.

  “Shh, it’s all right.”

  Even rough with sleep, she knew it was John Parker’s voice before she opened her eyes. He was lying on his side like her, the children and Barbie squashed between them like rolls of unbaked bread.

  John Parker’s face was haggard and sported a decent stubble. His blue eyes were bloodshot, but intent. The comfort she felt from his presence eased the pressure in her chest from the dream she couldn’t remember. He’d come in the night to be with them, and her gratitude was too vast to be expressed.

  “Are the police still here?” she whispered, not seeing any officers.

  “Yes, the crime scene investigators came a while back with the detective. You were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you. They want us to stay in here while they do their work. ”

  Right. There would be fingerprints to take along with a whole series of other things she probably didn’t know about. Between the house and the surrounding property, there was a large area to cover. Was the cherished home she’d made here with the children, their first safe one after leaving Sterling, lost to them?

  Her heart cracked.

  Like providing food for her children, she’d come to realize just how important safety was to their existence, something she’d denied herself for too long. Now someone besides Sterling had taken that away from her again, and an ember of anger ignited inside her.

  Part of her didn’t want to ask, but it was best to face it now while Rory was asleep so she could brace herself for what needed doing. “Did they find Bandit?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, his jaw clenched. “He was hurt, so they took him to a vet.”

  Hurt, not dead. Part of her was grateful. The other part was enraged. That man had hurt her son’s dog.

  Then a darker thought emerged.

  He might have hurt them too.

  “I’m glad you slept some,” he said. “It’ll help.”

  “Did you get any sleep?” she asked, seeing the faint glow of morning light wrap around the curtains in Rye’s room. She wondered what time it was but couldn’t see the alarm clock from her position. She didn’t want to move for fear of waking the children.

  “I dozed on and off some.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for coming last night and staying. I couldn’t have…done it alone.”

  “Yes, you could have. You did great all by yourself. I’m just glad you didn’t have to be alone for the rest of it.”

  “I’ve never been more scared.” Not even with Sterling. He might have hurt her, but she knew him, knew what he was capable of.

  He leaned closer, careful not to squash the kids and Barbie, and traced her face. His thick brown hair was matted to his head. “I’m sorry you had to face it by yourself.”

  His touch pushed some of the darkness away. “What did the police say?”

  He scrubbed his face with his free hand. “They think it was an overzealous fan who wanted to lift a personal souvenir of Rye’s while your brother was on tour.”

  Dear God, a souvenir? That’s what the intruder had been after? “Did the intruder steal anything?”

  “Yes, Rye’s last trophy from the Country Music Awards. He also dropped and broke one of his Grammys.”

  She shivered, remembering the sound. “I heard a thud. That’s how I knew…”

  “I suppose we should thank God for that.” He rubbed her arm. “Rye and Tory will be here in about an hour, and I called my mama to tell her what’s going on. My family and her whole congregation are praying for y’all. She wanted me to tell you that.”

  Well, that had her tearing up. They would need prayers, lots of them, to feel safe again.

  “I know Rye had to cancel a few concerts to come home,” she whispered, “but I’m so glad he and Tory are coming. That everyone is.”

  “Nothing would have stopped them. That’s what families do, honey. They come together in times of trouble.”

  One tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Until last year, mine didn’t.”

  John Parker brushed the wetness away with the pad of his thumb. “Isn’t it amazing how things can work themselves out?”

  “We’re so lucky to have them all.” She raised her eyes to meet his intense blue gaze. “John Parker…”

  “What?” he whispered huskily.

  “We’re lucky to have you too.”

  He stared at her for a long moment and then rose onto one elbow, nestling the kids together like two twins sharing space in a womb. As he leaned closer, she knew instinctively to meet him halfway.

  With the blessed warmth of her children between them, she closed her eyes and kissed the first man she’d ever kissed other than her ex-husband and learned more about the possibilities between a man and a woman from the merest brush of their lips than she had from nine years of marriage to Sterling.

  She’d thought about kissing John Parker for longer than she’d like to admit. Feared it. Longed for it. She hadn’t ever imagined it happening like this, but she couldn’t stop herself from pressing her lips gently to his mouth. A tremble, delicate and comforting, cruised through her, and it was a relief to feel her body shiver for a different reason now. She knew something had shifted inside her, almost as though a great treasure chest had been unearthed from its watery grave at the bottom of the sea.

  He kept the kiss light, sipping at her lips, something she hadn’t known was possible. There was gentleness here, and all she’d ever known from a man before now was aggressiveness, urgency, and disregard—for her needs, her body, her soul.

  The sensation of his hand cupping her cheek was like the first ray of spring sunshine bathing her skin after a long winter, and her breath rushed out, mixing with his own. She wanted the kiss to go on and on, but Barbie started to squirm, squashed between the kids. John Parker must have sensed it because he stroked her nape one last time and pulled away.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and all around her the world looked different, as different as the new feelings spiraling through her body.

  “I’m lucky too,” he whispered.

  And this time, when they gathered the children closer between them, they both stayed awake without talking, only gazing at each other, knowing everything had indeed changed.

  Chapter 15

  After breaking the news about Bandit’s condition to Rory, who had cried uncontrollably, she and John Parker bathed the kids, then took turns showering. The police were helpful—since the house was still officially a crime scene and no o
ne without a badge was cleared to roam around, the officers found clothes for them and even offered to pick up breakfast.

  Tammy was brushing Annabelle’s hair while John Parker sang softly to the kids when they heard a deep bellow from below. “Tammy, Rory, Annabelle?”

  Rye. Tammy jumped off the bed and rushed into the hallway, watching as the officers fell back from him and Tory. Rye ran toward her with her sister-in-law right behind him, and then he was hugging her and squeezing her. Another piece of her foundation settled back into place.

  “Oh, thank God! I was so worried. Tammy, honey. I’m so glad you’re safe.” He squeezed her tight as Tory wrapped her arms around them too, and then he kissed her head three times. “Where are the kids?”

  “In your room,” she said hoarsely, soaking up their presence.

  As soon as they entered his room, Rye scooped up Annabelle. “How’s my precious little girl?” He caressed her hair like it was fine silk.

  “Uncle Rye,” her small voice cried. “We were so scared.”

  “I know, darlin’,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for y’all. Rory, son, come on over here. I have a mighty big need to hug you…right now.”

  As the kids wrapped their little arms around Rye, her brother’s eyes started to swim with tears. “Oh, my sweet babies. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I’m just…so sorry.”

  Hearing him like that…tears ran down her face like raindrops.

  Tory was crying too, and she wrapped her arms around the kids and Rye. “We’re so glad you’re okay.”

  Rye nodded to John Parker, sniffling, and his friend lifted his chin in acknowledgment.

  An officer appeared in the doorway with some take-out bags a few moments later, and Tammy thanked him. “Let’s get some breakfast into everyone.”

  They huddled on the floor, swathed in the room in the large house that had become their haven. Inside the bags were paper plates, plastic silverware, napkins, and an array of breakfast sandwiches and pancakes. After Tammy finished making the children their plates, she did the same for the adults. Even though no one really wanted to eat, it was another routine they needed to reestablish.