Her Son's Hero

by Vicki Essex

  “Huh? What?”

  “I asked if you want to get some food.”

  “Sorry.” He pointed to a large willow tree. “Let’s set up over there first.”

  As they spread out their picnic blanket, Dom glanced up. “Where did Sean go?”

  Fiona peered around in alarm. Then she relaxed. Sean was talking to some of the kids from the beginners’ class. It looked as if they were all getting along as they headed toward the river.

  “Don’t go too far, Sean!” Fiona yelled. He turned and waved, then ran off.

  Dom sat down, noting how Fiona’s lips were pursed. “He’ll be fine,” he assured her.

  “Some of those kids are Rene’s friends,” she said. “They move in packs, like wild dogs.”

  “They’re boys,” he said. “They’re growing up and learning to be men. Sometimes that means learning about allegiances and making poor choices in friends. It’s a rite of passage.”

  “As long as they don’t practice their rites of passage on my son.” She started pulling out soft drinks and various nibbles, while Dom lined up for hot dogs and corn.

  They settled in to eat, not saying much. It’d been a while since Dom had had a break, and he knew it would likely be a while yet before he got another. Mako had called and told him he’d likely be in Osaka for the summer. Without thinking, Dom had promised to stay as long as he was needed, then wished his sensei’s brother a speedy recovery.

  As if his manager had heard him from five states away, Joel had called. He was mortified to hear Dom had begun teaching full-time, and gave him the talking-to of a lifetime.

  Faced with the choice between his master—his past—and his manager—his future—Dom couldn’t suss out which was the right way. He wanted that championship title. He wanted the respect of the world, of everyone who had ever doubted him. But he had his sensei to think about, and the students.

  “Something wrong?”

  Fiona’s voice drew him back to the present. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind.” He rubbed at a spot between his eyes.

  “Sean was worried that you’re getting worn-out.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been a little bushed. And you just reminded me of the arts fair demonstration I’m supposed to organize.” He huffed out a breath. “There’s always lots of glitz and glamour at events like that. It’s not really the Way, but people want to see guys breaking concrete blocks with their foreheads and other nonsense.”

  Her eyes rounded. “Can you?”

  “Can I what?”

  “Break concrete blocks with your head.”

  “I don’t plan to try, let me put it that way.” He laughed. “Karate is not about showing off, despite what the movies depict.”

  “Then keep it simple,” she said. “I mean, you don’t have to teach anyone any special moves, right? Maybe they can perform something they just learned, or something they’ve already mastered.” She smiled. “You want pizzazz, I think you’ll provide it in spades.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course. I don’t see any other UFF soon-to-be champions around here.” She smacked him on the arm, then flinched, shaking her hand from the sting of slapping marble-hard biceps.

  She was right, of course. He’d performed in plenty of martial arts shows, knew that Sensei Miwa didn’t go for over-the-top, board-breaking demos. Dom could put something together.

  A funny little ache spread through him as he looked over at Fiona to thank her for her confidence.

  Her hair shone in the wan afternoon sun. Her soft, coffee-brown eyes studied him. He would like to explore her full lips, except…

  “Well, hello, Dom.” He jerked back out of his reverie. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Oh, goody,” Fiona muttered.

  Denise wore a long, tan sundress and a broad-brimmed straw hat that could have doubled as an umbrella, along with a pair of oversize sunglasses. Rene, in shorts and a polo top with a little alligator on it, appeared behind his mother, hauling a basket. A scowl flattened his chubby face.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Denise smiled toothily. “I thought you’d be at the dojo for sure.”

  “I couldn’t resist taking a day off,” he said.

  “Would you mind sharing space on your blanket? I completely forgot to pack one.”

  “Well, it’s not my—”

  “Oh, hey, Fiona,” Denise said as she dropped down beside Dom. “I didn’t even see you there.”

  “I was just hiding behind my wiener,” Fiona dead panned.

  “I could never eat those. My uncle worked in the Salmon River butcher shop years ago. He found out what they put in regular hot dogs and swore off them for the rest of his life. He only made the finest sausages after that.” She pointed to the red hot in Fiona’s hands. “You don’t want to know what they put in those things. I brought my own food.” She started unloading the basket, laying out gourmet sandwiches, a three-bean salad, artisan breads and some spreads, as well as sparkling fruit juice. “Ordered it from Vernor’s Delicatessen. It’s a little more expensive, but I like to support local businesses. And you know what they say—you are what you eat.” She gestured to the food. “Please, help yourself. I brought plenty.”

  Fiona’s expression was inscrutable. She didn’t touch the spread.

  “Rene, honey,” Denise called. Her son looked over at her indifferently. “Why don’t you go off and find your friends?”

  The boy said nothing, didn’t even make eye contact with his karate teacher as he lumbered away.

  “Is everything okay with him?” Dom asked.

  “Oh, well, you know boys.” Denise pressed her lips together. “His father was supposed to take him to the cottage this weekend, but he had clients he has to entertain, so he canceled this morning.” She didn’t look too happy about that herself.

  Dom remembered hearing Rene brag about his father’s wealth to his karate classmates. His dad was going to bring him an Xbox or something, because he always brought gifts, and then they were supposed to fly to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend. No wonder the kid seemed so bummed.

  Denise quickly added, “Derek’s an investment banker. He never did have much time for his son…or me. It’s just…how he is.”

  “Men.” Fiona snorted. And when Denise glanced over at her, Dom saw the brunette actually smile a real, honest-to-God, I-hear-you-sister smile. Too bad Fiona wasn’t looking and missed it.

  Denise heaved a sigh. “He provides well enough, sends the alimony checks on time, and has his assistant pick out wonderful birthday and Christmas gifts for Rene. Still—” she opened a container of rice-stuffed grape leaves and offered one to Dom “—a boy needs a father to guide him through life. Someone he can look up to. A man he can model himself after. You know what I mean?”

  “Excuse me.” Fiona got up abruptly.

  “Where are you going?” the other woman asked.

  “For a walk. You’re right, Denise, those wieners really aren’t good for you. I’m feeling sick to my stomach.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “THAT…THAT… ARRRGH!”

  Josie watched as Fiona shoved another double chocolate fudge, macadamia nut cookie into her mouth, gulping down a chaser of milk. “Inviting herself to sit on my blanket!” She could barely taste anything through her bitterness. “I mean, how rude is that?”

  “Mature of you not to get upset over it,” Josie remarked.

  “I’m burning that blanket tonight.” She’d invited Dom out, and this was how he repaid her? By letting that woman coil herself around him?

  Dom hadn’t really wanted Denise there; he was only trying to be polite. But Fiona’s anger was as annoyingly persistent as a red wine stain on a white silk dress.

  “You’re getting yourself worked up over nothing,” Josie said. “So she didn’t have a blanket. Were you really going to tell the woman to sit in the dirt?”

  Fiona might have. And that didn’t settle well. She was being entirely unfair about Denise, but couldn’t help it. After
that embarrassing display of emotion at Dom’s, Fiona had had time to mull over her attitude toward the woman, but no matter how she sliced it, she did not like Denise because of the way she treated her and Sean. Seeing her all over Dom—who seemed oblivious to her fawning—made Fiona want to wring the woman’s slender neck.

  Josie abruptly stood, dragging Fiona up with her as a ruckus broke out at the waterside. There were shouts and cries, followed by a shriek and the pounding of feet as adults ran to investigate.

  Heart in her throat, Fiona ran to the river. The grassy, sloping edge dropped sharply to an embankment fortified with large boulders, then shale and a sandy strip of beach. As she reached the embankment, she gasped.

  Teeny-tiny Sean had his arms looped beneath Rene’s as they struggled in waist-high water. Rene’s polo top was pulled over his head, exposing his white belly. The other kids he’d been playing with stood on the sand about fifty feet away, shouting. Fiona screamed Sean’s name, but he didn’t hear her, or chose to ignore her, and she scrambled down to break up the fight.

  And then Dom was there. Leaping off the embankment, which had to be at least five feet high, he landed in a crouch, then sprang into the water, shoes and all. He grabbed Sean by the shoulder, barking something. Startled, Sean let go of Rene. The larger boy splashed heavily into the river and his head went under.

  The kids screamed again, louder, and Fiona realized then they were cries of alarm, not jeers. Dom reached down and pulled the boy to his feet, but Rene didn’t stand up. His limbs remained flaccid, and his eyes rolled around in his skull. Fiona felt her gorge rise when she saw blood smeared over his pale forehead.

  “My baby!” Denise skittered down the slope and plunged into the murky water, her skirt billowing. “Rene! Omigod, Rene!”

  Dom carried the boy to shore. “Someone call 9-1-1!”

  “Mom!” Sean splashed toward her, soaked through, his eyes huge, his lips white. Blood smeared his hands and face.

  “Are you okay?” On her knees on the sharp rocks, Fiona felt her son all over. She grabbed him up. “We need to get you dried off.”

  “You little beast!” They spun around to face Denise Kirkpatrick. “What did you do to my son?”

  “It was an accident!” Sean cried.

  “You hurt him! You used your karate against him, didn’t you?”

  “No! It wasn’t like—”

  “You have his blood on your hands!” Denise’s eyes were wild. “You’re just like your father! I’m going to make sure you go to jail!”

  Fiona drew her son closer.

  An ambulance pulled up, and two paramedics helped Dom get Rene onto the stretcher. From inside the ambulance Denise glared at Fiona and Sean before the doors shut and Rene was whisked away.

  Josie came and draped Sean in a towel. Fiona wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. They were both shaking.

  “I—I don’t w-wanna go to jail,” Sean blubbered as fat tears poured down his cheeks. “D-do you think he’s dead?”

  “He’ll be fine, Sean, I’m sure of it.” Dom’s deep voice did a lot to soothe Fiona’s nerves, but she sensed he was disturbed beneath his calm. He led them to a bench in the sun, which had incongruously chosen to shine now. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

  Sean swallowed. “We were skipping stones, me and the other guys…and Rene came and asked me to go with him to…to talk.” Sean looked at his hands, noticed the drying blood, and shuddered. “He asked me to teach him some karate moves.”

  Dom stiffened. “Like what?”

  “He wanted to learn to throw a guy…like in the movies, you know? He said he heard some of the more advance classes were doing it. So we went into the shallower water, because I thought it’d be softer than where all the rocks are….”

  Dom’s expression had grown stony. “What happened then?”

  “Well…I knew how to do it. I saw it on the internet and—and I did it to him.”

  Fiona gasped. “You threw Rene?”

  “Not just now,” Sean clarified. “A couple of weeks ago. He was picking on me, so I used one of the self-defense moves I learned in your class, Mom, and then this move I saw on YouTube….”

  She didn’t know whether to be proud or horrified. The latter was winning out in light of the situation.

  Dom encouraged him to go on, but she could hear his frustration plainly now. “So you were teaching him how to throw a guy…?”

  “He slipped on the rocks and hit his head. He went under the water for a second, and I thought he was just joking around. But he didn’t get back up, and he started to float away, so I tried to grab him, but he was s-so h-heavy…” Sean’s teeth started chattering together, and more tears filled his red-rimmed eyes. “M-mom, you believe me, d-don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.” Fiona hugged him, her throat tight.

  But something was missing from the equation. What was her son leaving out? What if he was lying? This hadn’t been the first time he’d attacked Rene. The boy could have provoked Sean again, and he could very well have used his new karate skills to take Rene down. And it didn’t make sense to her that the bully who’d so mercilessly picked on him would suddenly ask him a favor.

  Denise’s accusations might not be without merit. Fiona hated that. “Did anyone else see you two when this was happening?” she asked, needing desperately to assuage her qualms.

  “I d-don’t know.” Sean shivered with cold. “They were on the other s-side of th-the b-beach b-by then.”

  “We should get him indoors. Shock’s settling in,” Dom said quietly. “Give me your car keys.”

  In a few minutes, they were on the road, Dom at the wheel, Fiona holding Sean tightly in the backseat to keep him warm. He was burning with fever. At home, she put him into pajamas and tucked him into bed. Dom entered his bedroom with a mug. “Drink this,” he ordered Sean. “It’s honey with lemon and hot water.”

  Sean swallowed about half of it before sinking beneath the blankets and closing his eyes.

  Fiona sat on the edge of the bed, squeezing her son’s hand. She couldn’t imagine him ever doing anything to hurt anyone. She believed his story. But questions still hovered in the back of her mind and, clearly, in Dom’s, too.

  “Dom?” Sean rasped.

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears gathered in his thick, blond-tipped lashes and spilled onto his pillow. “I’m so sorry…”

  “It’s okay. We’ll talk about this later. Just get some rest, okay?”

  Sean fell asleep the next moment, his quick, shallow breaths slowing, deepening. Fiona slid off the bed and closed his bedroom door, then went to the bathroom to clean herself up. Her gut roiled. She felt bone-weary.

  When she stumbled into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, she found Dom at the table, a pot already brewed.

  “I just got a call from Selma Van Nussen. Rene’s fine.” His relief didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just a mild concussion, a few cuts and scrapes. They’re keeping him overnight just in case.”

  Fiona sagged in relief, resting her chin on the tabletop. “Thank God. What about Denise?”

  “I guess Rene told her what happened.” Whether his version of the events matched Sean’s remained to be seen. “Still, you should probably steer clear of her for now. She’s mad and gunning for someone to blame.” He frowned. “Won’t be long before I become that target.”

  “You?”

  “Apparently, I’ve failed to instill the most basic tenet of any martial arts school into those two—never try to teach or learn advanced moves on your own, or outside the proper facilities.” He laced his fingers together. “Sean was Rene’s senior in class, but he was hardly qualified to teach anything as advanced as a throw.”

  “You’re blaming Sean for what both of them did?” Something in Fiona flared.

  Dom remained as stoic as a granite boulder. “Sean knows the rules. He’s the smartest kid I’ve ever seen walk into a dojo. He shouldn’t have tried to
teach Rene anything, much less in a dangerous environment like the river.”

  “I can’t believe you!” Fiona said, pushing to her feet, her chair scraping loudly on the tiles. “Rene asked him to do this. Sean saved that boy’s life! After everything Rene’s done to my son, after everything that Denise…” Fiona bit her lip. Denise hadn’t caused this, and Sean had no reason to lie if Rene had started a fight with him. Frustrated, Fiona left the room. Dom followed her.

  “Rene wouldn’t be in the hospital if the two of them had listened to my rules—the dojo’s rules—to begin with,” Dom argued quietly when they reached the living room. “I expected Sean to know better.”

  “The real world isn’t based on dojo etiquette, Dom,” she snapped. “Sean is a ten-year-old boy! He bends the rules all the time just to see how far they’ll go. For all you know, Rene could have bullied him into teaching him those moves.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case.” Dom’s flat, quiet tone only incited her anger further.

  “Then what is the case? You think Denise is right? That Sean would willingly hurt someone? That he’s like his father?” Hot tears fell, but Fiona was far from crying. “He hasn’t done anything to deserve what’s happened to him. I’ve done my best to raise him to be a good, decent boy, despite being a single parent. He’s good and kind and nothing and no one is going to convince me otherwise. Not my parents, not my ex-husband, not Denise, not the townspeople here and certainly not you!”

  She didn’t know what happened in the next minute. All she knew was that suddenly Dom was there, and his mouth was on hers.

  And she was kissing him right back. Her anger spent, she sagged against him, wound her arms around his neck and clung for dear life.

  A growl rumbled through Dom as he cinched her even tighter against him. Fiona’s skin went from frigid to flaming in seconds, and a buzz started low in her belly.

  His hands raked through her hair, across her shoulders, then encircled her waist. She was lost in heady lust as he backed her against the edge of the dining-room table, the unmistakable jut of his arousal pressing against her hip.