Unraveling Midnight

by Stephanie Beck

  “My house has a big backyard if you need more space,” he offered.

  “Oh, I guess I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe—”

  Scott took off, reacting to the scene in front of them before she even had a chance to process what was happening. The boys had started scuffling again and Greg tripped over the curb and into the street. A truck driving too quickly barreled straight for the boy and Lucy’s breath caught, knowing she was neither close enough nor fast enough to save him. But Scott was. In a show of desperate speed, he flew to his son. He pushed Greg back to the sidewalk, but wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way of the truck.

  It hit him with a deadening thud. Lucy screamed alongside the kids. The side street was empty at the moment, so the yelling did no good. She reached for her cellphone, but found her pocket empty. She had to do better with the damn thing for reasons just like this.

  She locked eyes with the man in the truck, the panic there mirrored in hers. He probably had a cellphone. He’d get Scott help. She ran for Scott, shouting for the kids to stay back. She expected the truck’s driver to get out, but instead he put the vehicle into reverse and the tires squealed as he drove away.

  Lucy knelt beside her fallen friend. “Scott? Can you hear me?”

  She couldn’t focus on the truck, not with Scott groaning, lying on the cement and holding his side.

  “Of course I hear you. He hit my side, not my ears.” The gruffness of his reply was such a comfort, she let his sarcasm slide.

  “I’m going to have one of the kids run to the shop and call an ambulance. You lay still.”

  “No ambulance. I’m fine. I’m sorry as hell to miss ice cream. I need to go home.”

  She pushed his hard shoulder to the ground. “You were hit by a damn truck, Scott. Now is not the time to be stoic and tough. You’re side is bleeding and you’ve got scratches on your face.”

  “It’s not the first time. Listen, please, Lucy.” He grabbed tight to her hand, holding it to an uninjured part of his chest. “I know absolutely that I’m okay. And I can’t be away from my kids—there’s no one I can trust them with. Please just get us home and I promise I’ll be fine.”

  No one he’d trust with them. She remembered her grandmother saying the same about her, though Lucy had thought it was silly. Seeing Scott’s intensity she understood it better. He actually didn’t look too bad for getting hit by a truck. That didn’t mean there wasn’t internal bleeding or something horrible happening under his skin.

  “Daddy!” Jessie called, but when Lucy looked up, she was grateful to see one of the boys had caught her.

  “Lucy, please,” Scott said very quietly. “Jessie doesn’t need to see me like this and none of them need to be alone. Please get me home.”

  He would bring Jessie into it. Lucy remembered what the little one said about her dad being the only one she had left. Scott had mentioned not having anyone close and maybe he really meant it. If she called an ambulance, a social worker would most likely be brought in, since she wasn’t technically family, to take on the kids. Scott was already trying to stand up, slowly but surely finding his feet. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and helped him.

  “I’ll bring you all home but if you think I’m going to leave, you’re out of your mind,” she whispered, helping him find his balance.

  “Yeah, I’d appreciate if you could stay for a while,” he said, leaning on her just shy of too hard. “My truck is down the block. I can make it if you help me.”

  “Of course I’ll help,” she replied, bracing to take more of his weight if he needed her. “If you have a brain aneurism or something and die, I’m never going to forgive you.”

  “Fair enough. Kids, to the truck now.”

  They didn’t hesitate, just ran to the blue dual-cab four-by-four and piled in.

  “My keys are in my pocket,” Scott said, limping at her side. “I’m not trying to be a creep, but my hand is numb.”

  “Oh, okay. Don’t worry, I have faith that when you do try to get me in your pants, you’ll have better lines,” she said, the humor coming from her need to gain some control of the situation.

  He laughed and gasped in pain.

  “Your ribs hurt, don’t they?”

  “Like they got hit by a fucking truck. I’m going to find that guy and beat the hell out of him. He was going way too fast. If it had been Greg—”

  “It wasn’t,” she comforted when he immediately tensed and started breathing harder at the thought. “Greg is fine and you’ll be fine too. I’ll write down his license plate number when I get in the truck.”

  “You remember it?”

  “Numbers and letters stick with me,” she said and paused at the curb when they were at his truck. It was big and even with the step bar, she knew it was going to be a challenge getting him inside without breaking him more.

  * * * *

  Scott couldn’t believe it. Just when he was finally getting somewhere with Lucy, he got hit by a damn truck. What were the odds? He’d jacked his back again, but it felt like he was at least upright and able to support himself. He didn’t want to try that on his own without Lucy nearby. As far as getting hit by a car went, he thought he’d come out of it relatively unscathed.

  “Hell.” His truck had never looked so tall.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Beside him, Lucy held tight to her control, not letting panic loose though he knew it had been close for a few moments after the other truck drove off. To be fair, he’d have been going nuts if roles had been reversed. “You’re going to turn so your butt is toward the door. Then I’m going to get in and pull you up. Between the two of us, we should be able to get you in.”

  He nodded. That sounded like a good enough plan. He thought throwing him in the back sounded better, but that was sure to freak Lucy out more and it would bother the kids. He looked to the backseat after Lucy opened the door and braced him there. The kids sat quietly, each buckled in and watching him with wide eyes. They’d seen him hurt worse but the past didn’t make this time any easier. Without him, they knew they’d be out of a home, out of any kind of normal life for a werewolf. He’d never pointed the facts out, but they weren’t dumb. There wasn’t anyone else who would willingly take them on, considering what their mother had done.

  “Scott, turn for me.”

  He’d zoned through the pain a moment, but realized Lucy was waiting for him. He braced his hands, hoping his arms would hold him so Lucy didn’t hurt herself getting his big ass into the truck. Her little hands slipped under his armpits, and with more strength than he’d have imagined, she began to slowly and steadily pull him into the truck. He flexed his muscles, doing his part and, with relatively little pain, he settled into the passenger seat.

  “See, guys?” Lucy said, her smile too bright as she buckled his seatbelt and her own. “He’s fine. We’ll get him home and cleaned up and he’ll be back to causing trouble in no time.”

  “I’m sorry for pushing Greg,” Ross said in the barest of whispers.

  Scott’s gaze was toward Lucy when his boy said the words and the pure compassion in her eyes matched his feelings. His boys might be rough but he knew they’d never hurt each other. Ross was going to have to deal with some guilt for a while.

  “I know, Ross,” Scott said. “That guy was driving too fast and near the curb. I’m grateful I made it in time.”

  “Me too,” Greg said. “Are you okay, Daddy?”

  He forced a smile, a pounding headache from the pain starting to set in. “I’m fine, Greg. I promise. Can you tell Lucy the directions to the house, please?”

  He closed his eyes, the bright sunset killing his brain as they drove west toward home. Greg quietly gave concise directions and Scott trusted his kids enough to get them home and trusted Lucy enough to get them there in one piece. What choice did he have other than to put his faith in her? Liking her wasn’t the problem, but trust was a squirrel of a different color. Like it or not, their relationship was getting p
ressed to a point he wasn’t ready for. If he had to be pressed closer to anyone, at least it was Lucy.

  Chapter 5

  The kids were hungry. The refrigerator was full and they were looking at her like she should be able to do something about their growling bellies. She would have loved to be one of those women who could look in the fridge and whip up a casserole or a smart, nutritious dinner.

  Unfortunately she wasn’t one of those. Her meals consisted of takeout or modest snacks of cheese, crackers and fruits she didn’t have to worry about burning or turning to mush.

  “There’s the stuff for meatloaf,” Ross offered with a very hopeful smile. “Daddy was going to make it tonight.”

  Even more, she wished she could whip up the log of hamburger, but from experience, she knew she’d need a fire extinguisher and maybe charcoal tablets for the impending food poisoning.

  “How about we eat light tonight?” she asked, grabbing a huge brick of cheese and cold cuts. There wasn’t a single piece of fruit in the otherwise well-stocked fridge. There weren’t any veggies either. Maybe Scott hadn’t had a chance to get to the farmers market for fresh. Or maybe he needed a talking-to about a balanced diet for him and the kids.

  “We, ah, don’t eat light,” Greg said, scratching his stomach. Home again, a lot of the tension had eased. Scott slept on the sofa in fresh clothes. She’d helped him a little with bandaging up the abrasions, but he’d very politely kicked her out of his room while he saw to his other injuries. “We could make sandwiches with that stuff, if you want.”

  “Great idea, Greg.” She smiled at the boy who was more mature when necessary. “If you find bread, I’ll start slicing and stacking.”

  Ten minutes later, Lucy tried very hard to keep the shock out of her expression. She’d only seen sandwiches like the ones the boys had put together on extreme food shows. They were at least three inches thick, all meat and cheese between two pieces of grainy wheat bread.

  Jessie was just as bad, eating away at hers like she was starved. They probably were, if they’d been planning ice cream as a snack, but she still couldn’t believe they were plowing through a brick of cheese and two pounds of cold cuts like it was peanut butter and jelly on white bread.

  “Um, do you guys have applesauce or any fruits or veggies you usually eat with sandwiches?” She poured more milk in each of the kids’ glasses.

  “Nope,” Ross said after a big gulp of whole milk. “Dad makes us eat that stuff twice a week, and we already did it this week. Carrots and bananas.”

  The table occupants shuddered as one and she bit back a smile. Okay, so maybe Scott did try. It still boggled her mind though that they ate so much yet all of them were slim to the point of skinny.

  “Can we have ice cream now?” Ross asked, his giant sandwich annihilated to a few crumbs of bread on his plate. “I can get it out. It’s in the back freezer. Oh, and I can take out sausage too, so we can have it for breakfast.”

  Breakfast was usually a bowl of cereal for her, but after seeing them eat, she imaged corn flakes and milk wasn’t going to cut it. Maybe she’d run out to the diner in the morning and load up on breakfast foods for everyone. Another thought made her pause. If Scott’s kids ate like this, how hungry must he be?

  “Go ahead and have ice cream, guys, then wash up and get in pajamas.” She smiled at them, though her mind raced again with worry over Scott. “Is that what you usually do?”

  “Yep,” Jessie said, throwing out the paper plates and stacking the glasses nicely in the sink. “And the boys won’t give you any crap either.”

  “We won’t.” Greg got out bowls and spoons. “We’ll eat and go to bed. We’re tired anyway. Dad ran us most of the day so we’d be good at knitting tonight. I can stay up with him, though, in case he needs anything.”

  “Don’t worry, Greg.” Lucy ruffled his soft brown hair. “I’ll stay tonight and keep an eye on things.”

  He leaned into her hand, like it had been too long since he’d been touched or offered affection. She knew their dad was wonderful about sharing his time and love, yet she also understood that sometimes it wasn’t enough.

  “We’ll eat and wash up,” Ross promised, toting a gallon of ice cream.

  “Good. I’m going to go check on your dad. Maybe he’ll feel like having something to eat.”

  Or maybe not, she thought, remembering one of her brothers who had liked to fight. Before Grandma had taken him under her wing, he’d always had bruises. He’d lamented about food one Thanksgiving when he’d slipped back into his old ways. His teeth had been too sore to eat and he’d been nauseous from swallowing blood. She hoped Scott fared better.

  The living room was in the front of the house, with several rooms between it and the kitchen. The house’s layout was probably a hodgepodge of different owners adding to the place. It was plenty big, but part of her wished she could hear the kids better in the kitchen. Though, if they started squabbling, she was sure she would hear them.

  She’d closed the curtains in the living room when the light had seemed to bother Scott, so the room was cool and nearly dark as the sun had furthered its descent. He lay on the sofa, not moving, and for a moment she panicked, thinking he wasn’t breathing.

  “I’m okay,” he grumbled, still not moving an inch, but apparently he had heard her enter. “How are the kids? Did they eat?”

  “The kids are fine.” She stepped farther into the room and took a seat on the heavy coffee table beside him. “They ate enormous sandwiches and now are tackling bowls of ice cream. I don’t know how you keep up with those appetites.”

  “It’s not always easy,” he said and from her new position she could see his face. He looked pale and his lips were drawn in pain, yet like he’d said, he seemed okay. “There’s sausage in the freezer and a couple dozen eggs in the fridge for breakfast. I don’t know if I’ll be up to making it and Greg—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She tugged his blanket over his shoulders. “I’ll stay tonight and make sure they eat in the morning.” She left out the part about her not being able to cook worth a darn, but come hell or high water, she would see the kids fed.

  “Thank you,” he muttered, closing his eyes again.

  “Can I bring you some pain medication or maybe something to eat?” she asked, indulging her need to run her hand over his head.

  Like Greg, he leaned toward her. They were all missing touch and it broke Lucy’s heart.

  “I’ll grab something in a little while,” he said. “I think for now I just need to sleep. The kids will eat their ice cream and go to bed. They’re all tired.”

  “Yes, they already promised. I’ll clean up the kitchen and bring my knitting in here to keep an eye on things.”

  “I wish I could say you don’t need to stay,” he said, his lips barely moving. “But it wouldn’t be true.”

  “Well, you’re in luck, because I have nowhere I need to be and nothing is going to pull me away from helping you guys now. Just rest, okay, Scott? I’ll go check on the kids again and be back in a few minutes. Call out if you need anything.”

  * * * *

  He was going to hell. Scott waited until Lucy’s footsteps were well away before sitting up and finishing the candy bar he’d grabbed from his bedroom. The action made him wince, so he didn’t feel too bad for putting on the pitiful face for Lucy. He did feel rough, there was no denying it, but he could have been up. Instead, he was indulging a little.

  He’d heard Ross and Greg talking about how kind Lucy was and about how nice it was to have a girl in the house and, suddenly, his plan to tell her she should go hadn’t been so great. Letting anyone close was detrimental to their identity, however when Lucy had ran her hand through his hair, he’d realized why his boys were so infatuated with the loving woman. The clues were all lining up for Lucy to be more to all of them than a friendly human.

  He was going to spend the night healing on the couch, soaking in her scent while she knitted and hopefully got some sleep. The lovese
at was comfortable. She’d be able to rest and she’d said something about taking the next few days off anyway, so he assured himself he wasn’t being too selfish. Letting her loose after she spent time with him and the kids, that might be more difficult than planned, but he’d take things one step at a time.

  Footfalls returned to the hall before he’d anticipated. He shoved the rest of the candy in his mouth and lay down. The sugary snack would do until Lucy fell asleep and he could chow down a couple pounds of hamburger. The kids piled in the room, each with scrubbed faces and in their pajamas. Lucy had probably asked them to wash up and Ross, bless his silly heart, had nearly rubbed the skin off his face.

  “We’re going to bed, Daddy.” Jessie kissed his cheek. “Don’t eat any more candy. You’ll get a tummy ache.”

  “Okay, honey. Sleep good tonight and don’t get up too early.” He hugged her, though the motion killed his arm.

  “We’ll sleep until eight,” Greg promised and Ross nodded.

  Scott knew the days of hugs were limited, so he savored when Ross embraced him for a long minute. When Greg hugged him, Scott held tight an extra moment.

  “I’m so glad you’re all right,” Scott said.

  He didn’t say more yet Greg’s eyes were wet with unshed tears when he pulled away. They were strong, sensitive boys. Their mother had seen that as a bad thing, while Scott knew he’d been similar in his youth. Time helped control it, but in Scott’s eyes, they were barely out of babyhood and he wasn’t about to scold or encourage them to be more stoic.

  “I’m glad you’re all right too,” Greg said and herded the others from the room.

  Scott listened as Lucy directed the kids to their beds, and when Jessie asked if she would tuck them in, it gave Scott a new level of peace when Lucy said ‘of course’. He closed his eyes, the aches settling on after all the ups and down and hugs. He’d rest for a while and then when Lucy got back, maybe he could get her to tell him more about herself. It wasn’t courting over ice cream cones, but the last few hours had proven to him they were at least moving past the acquaintance stage.