SWORN TO PROTECT: An Everyday Heroes World Novel

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “Nate, are you here to take us for ice cream?”

  I drop to a knee and look him straight in the eye. “Not today, buddy. But I promise soon, okay?”

  He nods as Liam makes his way into the living room. He hangs back, looking unsure whether to join us. His bruises have faded, and his cast comes off soon. He’s on the mend. I push back to my feet.

  “Everything still going well?”

  “Yeah.” His answer is clipped. His body language emits I-don’t-want-anything-to-do-with-you vibes, but his eyes tell a different story. There’s a longing to them. If I’m reading you right, I miss you too.

  I nod and force my gaze back to Mackenzie’s mom. “I was hoping to talk to Jordan.”

  She lets out a heavy sigh. “Like I told the detectives, he left this morning to run some errands. I thought he’d be back before lunch, but he hasn’t returned yet.”

  That can’t be good. I nod, holding her gaze for a minute. That look pretty much tells me everything I need to know. Jordan stole from his sister, and their mom realizes it. But the question is, why? What am I missing?

  “Did he take off in Stan’s truck?”

  She shifts uncomfortably. “No. His car is fixed.”

  “We helped him fix it,” Nick says, the excitement apparent in his expression. “The car’s really old but cool. It goes beep-beep.”

  “It does?” Even though the situation is serious as hell, I can’t help but be amused by Nick’s enthusiasm.

  “Yep! That’s what Uncle Jordan said. He said roadrunners go beep-beep.”

  Roadrunner? My gaze cuts to Mrs. Turner. “Is his car a Plymouth?”

  “Yes. A black, nineteen seventies model.”

  “And you don’t know where he went?”

  “I know where Uncle Jordan went. I heard him on the phone,” Nick says.

  “Mom said you shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” Liam scolds from the living room. I notice he has inched closer to us but isn’t fully committing to the conversation.

  “I wasn’t.” Nick crosses his arms across his chest. “He was next to the bathroom.”

  “What did Uncle Jordan say?” I ask.

  “He said he’d be there to pick him up. Paw roles won’t know.” He scrunches his nose. “What’s paw roles?”

  “Paw roles?” I ask, not knowing what the heck he means.

  Mrs. Turner stiffens. Her gaze whips toward mine. “Mackenzie’s dad gets out of jail tomorrow. He’ll be on parole.”

  My stomach rolls. When the state brought charges against my dad, he was brought up on charges in San Francisco county. The question hung in the balance whether to transfer him to their prison.

  “From the Rolling Rock penitentiary?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  Well, shit.

  * * *

  I say goodbye to the kids and drive straight to Mackenzie’s house. My need to see her outweighs the risk of her hating me on sight. I have to make sure she is okay. On my way, I waste no time calling Grant and passing along the information. He seems to be in the same frame of mind as me but warned me not to take off after Jordan.

  My rapid knocking has her opening the door in haste. Her creamy skin is flushed; her auburn hair is pulled into a messy bun. Loose tendrils frame her face. She’s absolutely stunning. Except for the scowl marring her expression as she blocks the doorway. Apparently, she’s not letting me in, which pisses me off.

  “You called the police on me?” Idiot. That’s not what I wanted to lead with. I’m letting my anger win.

  “They asked who had access to my computer. I mentioned your name.”

  “Did you honestly think I’d rip you off?”

  “No. Maybe.” She tosses her hands in the air. “I don’t know. I had Jordan barking in my ear, and after I found out you lied to me, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “I’d never pull that kind of stunt. Are you going to be okay? I can spot you some money.”

  “I don’t need your help,” she says with a bark to her tone.

  Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say.

  “I’m at a loss here, Mackenzie. I want to make this up to you. Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me.”

  “I don’t know if I can forgive you.” Those shiny green eyes glisten, and my heart breaks. I’ve screwed this up between us and have no way of fixing it.

  “Can I at least come in?”

  Her back stiffens as she swallows hard. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “We need to talk about what happened.”

  She nibbles her bottom lip and glances down at our feet. I’ve never felt so damn helpless in my life. That’s not entirely true. There are two incidents that compete. But damn, knowing I caused her pain is gut-wrenching.

  “I just can’t right now.”

  My back stiffens. The words I love you are right there. It’d be so easy to say them since they’re true. I love this woman standing in front of me. But I don’t want the first time I tell her to be out of haste.

  “Mackenzie, please. We really need to talk about this. I’m lost without you.”

  The tears she’s been fighting hard to control spring forward. “I don’t think that’s enough.”

  I nod, defeated. It’s clear Mackenzie needs more time and isn’t ready to forgive me. I can’t say I blame her. Lies and deceptions never win.

  “I’ll go, but no matter what, I’m never leaving you.”

  “I’m not asking you to stay.”

  That stings. I stare at her. Her words have a bite, but her eyes hold too much longing. I don’t believe for one second she means what she says. She’s caving to her stubbornness. And damn, this woman is stubborn.

  “I’m not asking you to.” I’m only asking for your forgiveness. Once she forgives me, then we can start over. With those words, I turn and head back to my truck. I need to figure out how to win her back. She still wants me, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

  Once I’m in my truck, I head out of town toward San Francisco. I may have been warned to stay out of their affairs, but I’m a retired army ranger. I’m done following orders. For once, I’m going after what I want and getting answers.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Mackenzie

  Who knew tomato-based dishes would forever ruin me?

  This is what I hate. I’ll be doing fine—or at least numb, which is the only emotion I’ll allow myself to feel—and out of nowhere, bam. I look at a can of crushed tomatoes, and sadness overwhelms me. I’ve been through so much: losing my husband, Liam, not only breaking his leg but bruising his spleen, and my brother ripping me off. Except for my son’s accident, nothing compares to the void I feel from Nate’s betrayal.

  But is it the betrayal that hurts or his absence?

  Right now, as I stare at the can, it’s all I can do to fight off the tears. I miss him so much. I miss that hint of a smile that nudges its way through his serious expression. His instinct to always put the kids and me first. The unapologetic way he dominates in bed. I miss it all.

  But we bonded over Italian dishes—a friendship born from a single can of crushed tomatoes that got made into marinara sauce.

  Sure, he appreciated my cooking, but the conversations that took place afterward was when we grew closer. I got a peek into his soul. I blink, staring numbly at the can.

  Jill’s right. His side of the story deserves telling. It’s selfish of me not to allow him to explain. What makes it worse is he’s just a phone call away. He’s only a few blocks from the store. All I have to do is hop in my car, and we could resolve this. Why am I letting my stubbornness stand in the way? I’m better than this.

  I abandon the cart and march right out of the store. I’m twenty yards from my car when the rapid clicking of heels pounds against the concrete as if someone is running toward me. Then I hear my name.

  “Mackenzie, I heard the news. How are you doing?” The concern in Cathy’s familiar high-pitched voice has me spinning around to face her despite the fact I want to duck i
nside my car. Cathy winces when she takes in my face. “Oh, honey. You don’t look so well. I guess I wouldn’t either if that fine specimen of a man left town. But seriously, are you okay?”

  My jaw drops from her brazenness. Never mind the insult to my appearance, but what does she mean by fine specimen? At first, I thought she meant my brother leaving with my money, but she wouldn’t reference a thief as a fine specimen. Would she? I go to answer her original question but close my mouth. Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Who are you talking about? What man?”

  “Oh!” she gasps, her eyes widening to the size of silver dollars. There’s a hint of curiosity to them, and I get the feeling she’s collecting more information. No doubt to feed the gossip tree. She places her hand on my forearm and drops her voice to a serious tone. “You don’t know? Oh, honey, Nate skipped town last night.”

  He left? After our argument? Did I drive him away? No, surely, she’s wrong. I shake my head, not wanting to fuel the flames to the out-of-control wildfire rumor mill. “We, uh, broke up a few nights ago.”

  My lips flatten into a thin line as I ignore the anguish gripping my chest. I take a step backward. One, to get closer to my car, and two, to get out from under her grip. My plan works. She drops her hand, moving it to cover her mouth.

  “I guess there’s no chance of rekindling that relationship. I’m so sorry things turned out the way they did.” She starts fanning herself. “He was mighty fine. All the girls wanted to line up and have surgery, if you know what I mean.”

  No, I don’t know what she means. And if I don’t get out of here, I’m going to lose my mind. “I, uh, need to pick up my boys. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Oh, okay. If you need anything, let me know. I’m just a phone call away.”

  I bet you are.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I force a smile and turn away. My insides quake as I beeline to my car. He can’t be gone. He just can’t.

  But as I park my car and race to room seven, I stop in my tracks when I reach the door. It’s open wide with Mrs. Overly vacuuming and the bed stripped of its linens. I slowly back away, unnoticed as I feel my entire world slip away.

  He’s gone.

  He’s actually gone.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Mackenzie

  “Mom, what are you doing here?” The cool morning breeze swirls around us as I open the front door. Stepping aside, I try smothering my defensive impulses. But other than defending Jordan, I can’t imagine why she’d visit. Mom never stops over out of the blue.

  She ushers inside, her fingers twisting her purse handles. She looks nervously around the room. “I figured since the boys don’t have school, I’d pick them up and take them to my house. That way, you could work on your studies.”

  “Oh.” I glance over at my desk, where my nursing book lies open. Studying has been a bust, but I certainly can’t use the kids as an excuse. Between every other word in the chapter reminding me of a particular surgeon I’m trying to forget to wondering if I’ll ever see a dime of my money again, my mind isn’t retaining anything.

  “Plus, I owe you an apology.” Her hands grip the straps tighter, and I brace for the inevitable but to follow.

  “Why don’t we sit down for this conversation? Do you want me to make some coffee or tea?”

  Mom shakes her head as she studies the floor. She follows me toward the couch, but her lack of eye contact is telling. I press my lips together to keep from spewing something I’ll regret. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but if she’s here to defend my brother, I won’t have it.

  “I believed in my heart your brother always meant well.”

  “Just stop!” So much for hearing her out. “I’m not listening to excuses. It was hard enough when my boy laid broken in the hospital.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing—”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, let me explain.” She draws a stuttering breath, and I check my temper. Arguments led by emotions don’t do anyone any good, and there is enough escalated tension surrounding us. She shifts in her seat again and clears her throat. “I’ve been blind to the way your brother behaves, in part, due to my guilt. That’s why I chose to see only his good side.”

  I lean back in my seat, a little taken back by her comments. She usually makes excuses for Jordan, never stating bad things about him.

  “I’ve been clinging on to this hope he’d grow into the man I know deep in my heart he could be, but he obviously won’t. As much as I want to think he’s innocent in all of this, I know he’s not.” She lets out a long sigh. “I blame myself.”

  My heart clenches as tears surface, matching hers. “Jordan’s an adult, Mom. You’re not to blame for his behavior.”

  “I didn’t fight hard enough when I left your father. I should’ve insisted on him living with us. That’s my biggest regret other than not leaving your father sooner.” She grabs a tissue from her purse and dabs her eyes.

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference. Jordan was bound and determined to live with Dad. There wasn’t anything you could’ve said or done to convince him differently.”

  “But I didn’t even try.” She finally looks at me. Her tired, bloodshot eyes make her appear older and more fragile. I hate my brother for not only doing this to me but to her as well. “I felt more relieved than anything when he refused to come with us. And I don’t think I can forgive myself for that. If I had tried harder, maybe he wouldn’t have hurt you.”

  The crack in her voice and the sound of defeat prompts me to move. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into an overdue hug. As her body shakes against me, I say words of comfort because that’s what I always do. I hate seeing my loved ones hurt—even if I’m at the losing end.

  “I’ve tried so hard justifying my guilt, but by holding on to him, I’ve pushed you away instead. I finally see that now, and I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

  I back away so she can look me in the face and see how serious I am. “Yes, it drove me crazy when you kept enabling him all these years, but I love you, Mom. That will never change.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I never worried about you because I knew you could take care of yourself.” Her palms rest upon the sides of my face. “My beautiful girl.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t made my share of mistakes. I just drove away a good, decent man.” Who I love so fucking much.

  “Oh, honey, something tells me he won’t be gone for long.”

  “I don’t know. He won’t answer my calls. He won’t text. I really blew it.”

  “Give him time. That man loves you.”

  “I sure hope you’re right.” As much as I want to believe her, I just don’t. It’s been radio silence ever since he left. If he still wanted me, I would’ve thought he’d at least text.

  She gives me a knowing smile and stands, seemingly more relaxed. “Everything has a way of working itself out. Now, let me grab the kids, and I’ll fix them supper. If you get a break, come join us.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  “If you hear anything about Jordan, let me know.”

  “I will.”

  After she and the boys leave, I focus on schoolwork despite my mind racing in a million different directions. I remain in this funk until the knock at the front door jars me to the present.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Queasiness hits me like a tsunami the moment I peer through my living room window and spot Detective Malone’s car parked in the driveway.

  “Detective Malone, please come in.” I step aside and allow the handsome detective to enter.

  Grant glances around my living and down the hall. “Are the boys here?”

  “They’re at Mom’s house.” I gesture to the desk. “I was trying to study, but it’s a little hard to concentrate.” Especially when I keep thinking about Nate, but I omit that admission. Who’d be more heartbroken over a guy than stolen money anyway? Me, th
at’s who. Money may be necessary for tangible items, but nothing replaces love.

  “I can imagine studying would be impossible. But I have some information that may ease some tension. Your brother is in custody in San Francisco. I wasn’t too far away when the call came in and wanted to tell you personally. Right now, I don’t have an approximation of how much money they can retrieve, but I’ll pass along the details as soon as they become available.”

  “So he admitted it?” Anger wars with disappointment. I guess I’m more like Mom than I want to admit, holding on to hope that my brother hadn’t ripped me off, but I can’t believe he would do this to not only me but his nephews as well. How could he stoop so low?

  Grant’s face softens as he nods. “I’m sorry. I know it’s harder when a family member steals from you.”

  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I’m afraid.”

  “Speaking of your father, they caught him for violating his parole. His hearing will be set, and more than likely, he’ll be going back to jail.”

  “Thanks, Grant, for letting me know.” I try to keep my tone even, but I’m too consumed by emotion.

  He cocks his head and purses his lips. “You can thank your boyfriend, Nate, when he gets back. Although I have to warn you, he doesn’t listen well.”

  My gaze darts to his. I thought Nate was gone for good, but embarrassment keeps me from admitting that. “What are you talking about?”

  “He was told specifically not to go there, but he tailed them anyway. Once they crossed jurisdiction, they were able to make the arrest.”

  My mind swarms with possibilities. Nate helped? Did he feel obligated to become a vigilante? Now that he fulfilled his obligation, does he plan on splitting? Could he be coming back? So many questions. My calls and texts sit unanswered. I assume I had pushed him over the edge—my crazed bitch side too much for him to deal. Now, I’m just confused.

  “Thanks, he didn’t tell me where he went.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t want you to worry.” Grant heads to the door. “I’ll be in touch once I learn more.”