Читать книгу A Promise to Protect - Liz Johnson - Страница 12

THREE

Ashley blinked against the sun reflecting off the spiderweb of her windshield, hands on the wheel and chin on her chest. Who would do such a thing? And why? Abuse usually took place behind closed doors, when there was no one around to witness it. Abusers were very, very good at protecting themselves from the consequences of their violence. An open attack like this seemed so strange, so out of character. And that made her nervous. If her attacker was willing to go this far, what would he do next?

She rolled her window down as Matt leaned a forearm on the roof of the car, towering over her little coupe.

“Do you want to leave the car here and call a tow truck? I can drive you back to your place.”

She managed to offer him a slightly off-center smile. “I’m okay. I won’t run anyone over. I promise. The glass place is right around the corner.” And there was no way she could afford to pay for a tow truck either. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You sure? You’ll be driving right into the sun. It could be kind of hard to see. Would you rather drive my truck?”

She glanced down the street at the SEAL-approved vehicle of choice. The truck was tall enough to accommodate his long legs, but not so big that it drew undo attention.

Besides, she didn’t need him to hold her hand in this. She’d accept his help safeguarding Lil’s Place—he was much better qualified in that arena. But driving her car a couple of blocks wasn’t a mission only a SEAL could do. He was capable, but so was she. “That’s all right. I’d rather drive mine.”

“Fair enough.”

Why did his words sound just the opposite?

“I’m fine. Really.”

“If you’re sure.” She nodded. “Okay. I’ll follow you over there, and then take you home.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the ride.”

“I won’t leave you stranded.” There was something deeper to his words, like he was going to give her more than a ride. Like he was promising to see her through this whole ordeal.

Even if she didn’t need it. She’d been just fine on her own for the last three years.

She glanced up just in time to catch Matt’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he walked behind her car toward his truck. He favored his left leg ever so slightly, his gait just a bit off, but despite his uneven stride, he was in his truck and pulling out of his parking spot—leaving room for her to pull out in front of him—before she’d even turned her car on.

* * *

As she pulled into the empty street, the cracks turned her windshield into a kaleidoscope, which proved harder to see through than she had anticipated. She fought to stay between the barely visible lane lines.

“Just keep going straight.” She repeated the mantra several times before another driver blasted his horn at her for crossing the middle line. She swerved back into her own lane, drawing dangerously close to a car parked along

the curb.

Her breathing picked up speed to match her pulse until she pulled into the gravel parking lot of the glass-repair shop.

True to his word, Matt came in right behind her, parking beside her coupe as she ducked into the front office.

Ten minutes later she hurried up to Matt’s truck, clutching her purse. Getting up to the seat could have been part of a training regimen to climb Everest.

“Need a hand?” Matt turned to open his own door, but she clawed at the bench seat until she gained enough of a grip to scramble all the way up.

“Nope. I’ve got it.”

He nodded, slamming his door closed at the same time she settled into her seat, hands clasped in her lap.

“Where to?”

She directed him toward Lil’s Place and settled in. The heater kicked out lukewarm air, taking the chill out of the Northern California winter afternoon. She rubbed her hands together and held them in front of the vents.

“What did they say?”

She sighed. “They’re closed tomorrow, and they have a backlog. So it’ll take at least a couple days. They said they hope it’ll be done by Saturday morning.”

He frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “That seems like a long time for you to be without a car. I’m not sure it’s safe for you not to have one.”

“Maybe that was his plan.” She said the words without really thinking, but they rang true.

The truck rumbled along, filling the silence, and she knew he recognized the truth of it as well. “I’ll be in town for a while. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”

She smiled, really looking at him for the first time since she’d run into him that morning. His jacket hung open, and his snug T-shirt revealed that the man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, despite his injury. The loose curls on top of his head that might have made another man look boyish, just made Matt look like the statues of Greek gods she’d studied in art history.

His presence was reassuring at the least. And strangely familiar, even if she hadn’t seen him for more than four years. Matt had accompanied Tristan home for Christmas that year, and, at barely twenty, she’d had a bit of a crush on him. That was before Paul had come into her life.

She’d never been sure if Matt had been aware of her feelings for him back then. Of course, when they started, she’d been just sixteen. That had been more schoolgirl crush than full-on attraction. With time, and increased maturity, her feelings had grown. But Matt had either never realized or never acknowledged her interest in him. In the handful of times he’d visited their home during her senior year of high school, he’d teased her just like Tristan. Just one of the family.

She’d never told her mom—let alone Tristan—how much she liked Matt back then.

And then Paul happened.

So exciting at first. Rappelling and midnight swimming in the lake. He drove fast and broke the rules, ditched class and stayed up all night talking with her.

Despite Tristan’s warnings that Paul might not be everything he seemed, she’d fallen for him. Hard.

Just as hard as his fist the first time he had hit her.

She hadn’t thought romantically about any man since Paul. Not Matt or anyone else.

But now that Matt was here, sitting next to her and filling the cab more than he should have, her mind wandered to the past and dug up memories that had no place in her current situation.

In the edge of her line of sight, he twisted, rubbing his calf. She’d never seen him fidget before, but every time she ventured a glance in his direction, he shifted, turning his body toward her, but his leg away.

“Your leg bothering you?”

“Not really.”

“I thought they taught you to be better liars in SEAL training.”

This whipped his gaze in her direction, and it landed heavily on her face. But a quick glance his way revealed an accompanying grin. It was lopsided and immensely endearing, despite her desire to think of him as nothing more than an extra set of hands to protect her charges.

“So what’s for dinner at Lil’s tonight?”

Ashley shot him a pointed look, and the corners of his mouth arched into an even wider smile, forming almost-dimples to his jawline. He was far too charming for his own good. It was distracting, which would have been dangerous enough at any time. Just now, when she needed all of her wits about her, it could be disastrous. Was it really safer for everyone involved—especially her—to let him help with this situation?

“I’m not sure. Why?”

“Thought you might invite me to join you.”

“Whoa.” She held up her hands. “That’s a bad idea. Very bad idea.”

“Why’s that?”

She studied the small black purse in her hands, turning it over several times, hoping it would give her the right words. “It’s just that the women at Lil’s have had hard lives, been treated horribly by the men they trusted. I try not to bring guys into the house unless absolutely necessary.”

“Don’t you think this might be absolutely necessary?”

“What? Feeding you dinner?”

He pulled up to a red light and turned his head to look into her eyes. She blinked twice but forced herself to maintain eye contact. “Listen, Ashley, you don’t have to act like this with me.” She almost asked what he meant, but she already knew. “You’re in trouble. You and the girls at Lil’s. Until this letter-writing lunatic is caught, someone needs to watch your back. And your brother asked me for a favor. We’ve been watching out for each other since day one of BUD/S, and I’m not going to let him down. He’s the only family I’ve got.”

She already knew that Tristan and Matt had met on the first day of BUD/S—Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training. But how did Matt not have any other family? He’d visited their home for years, but he’d never really talked about his own background. Tristan had always been the talker, and early on, he’d told her not to grill Matt about why he wasn’t going home for the holidays. She hadn’t cared, really. She had just wanted Matt to keep coming back to the house. But had he really never mentioned his family?

Before she could ask, Matt leaned toward her, his face drawing nearer to hers, setting her heart thumping painfully. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and nostrils flaring slightly as he let it out. “That makes you family, too. So I’m going to be in Charity Way until I’m certain that you’re absolutely safe.”

His tone brooked no argument, but a second later, the fierce intensity gave way to the serene calm she expected from him. He turned his eyes back to the road and pressed the accelerator. “It’s just dinner. I promise not to scare anyone.”

Didn’t he realize he was already scaring her?

She’d already relied on him more than she had any man since Paul, letting him make her feel safe just by standing next to her. She already hated the thought of him leaving, the thought of losing his steadying presence in the midst of something she couldn’t explain or understand.

And for someone with her history, that was the scariest thought of all.

* * *

Apparently Matt had said the right thing.

Ashley nodded but changed the subject, diving into the discussion of possible threats. “The notes have to be connected to one of the women at Lil’s Place.” Ashley’s teeth found her lower lip, chewing away. “They refer to someone’s property. That’s got to be one of the women.”

“Probably. But just for the sake of argument, could it be personal against you, since the house hasn’t been targeted yet? Have you had any personal arguments or disagreements with anyone lately?”

“Of course not. I’m far too sweet for that.”

He shot her a raised eyebrow.

Ashley laughed behind her hand. “Fine. But I’m not usually one to pick a fight. Besides, I’m usually busy taking care of things at the house, so outside of running errands and going to church, I’m hardly ever in town.”

“So you haven’t had any run-ins with anyone in the last month or so?”

“Most people in this town leave me and Lil’s Place alone. We’ve had a few vocal citizens who think we should stay out of other people’s business. But they’re pretty few and far between. We have a couple regular volunteers, and Chief Donal notes all of my concerns, but other than that, we’re a quiet house on a block with a bunch of other quiet houses.”

“What about friends? People at church? Has anyone seemed strange lately?”

She pursed her lips to the side, her nose wrinkling as she thought out loud. “Well, Miranda’s been a bit more scatterbrained than usual.”

“Who’s Miranda?”

“She’s a volunteer and a friend of mine.” Ashley’s head swiveled to watch a green station wagon roll past them before continuing. “She missed two volunteer kitchen shifts last week, but she said that work has been crazy lately. The tire plant had layoffs and she works in human resources there.”

“What about a boyfriend? Are you seeing anyone?”

She wanted to tell him it was none of his business. It was written all over her face. But she wrapped her arms around her stomach instead. “Nothing serious.”

She wasn’t telling the whole truth. He could read that like a book, too. And for some reason, being questioned about a boyfriend made her uncomfortable. Bad breakup? No, she’d admit to that—she wouldn’t hold back if there was a chance her ex was involved. So what was the problem?

He wanted to question her further, but she seemed so tense that he decided to let it drop. For now.

Swallowing back his questions and pushing all thoughts of Ashley’s love life out of his mind, he navigated their conversation back on course. “So if it is related to one of the women at the house, who do you think it might be?”

“That’s the problem—I think it might be related to a girl who’s not in the house anymore. She’s the only one whose background is a mystery.”

“She wouldn’t tell you?”

“She wouldn’t say much more than her name—Joy. And she promised she was eighteen, but she looked like she was barely sixteen.” Lines appeared on Ashley’s face, making her look much older than her years. She couldn’t be much more than twenty-five, but the pain in her eyes added at least ten years.

“How did she end up at Lil’s?”

Ashley motioned to the next street, indicating that he should turn there. And just as she’d said, it was a street of ordinary two-story houses all with white porches and the occasional porch swing. All they needed were white picket fences to complete his childhood daydream of the perfect home.

“Miranda brought her about a week ago. She said she didn’t know the girl very well, but she knew Joy needed help.”

Ashley pointed at a yellow house, and he pulled into an open spot at the curb adjacent to the green lawn.

“It must have been bad,” she continued.

He turned the key in the ignition, twisting toward her. “What?”

Ashley turned toward the house and opened the door before responding. “Whatever Joy went through. Whoever she’s running from did a number on her, and she wouldn’t talk about it. At all.”

He hurried around the hood of the truck, heat still rising from it, to meet her at the foot of the path leading up to the front steps.

After several seconds of silence, he held out his hand, motioning her to take the lead, but she shook her head. “We need to figure out what we’re going to tell everyone.”

Matt frowned. “Tell them about what?”

“About why you’re here.”

Matt still didn’t follow. His confusion must have been clear on his face, because Ashley continued, “The women inside that house trust me to keep them safe. I can’t just bring a strange—” her eyes dropped to his tennis shoes then moved all the way back up to the top of his hair “—man into their haven.”

“Then we’ll explain to them that I’m here for their protection.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper without any change in conviction. “And what? Tell them that I’m being threatened? That’s not going to make them feel secure, and security is essential for the residents of Lil’s Place.”

Matt rubbed his palms across the legs of his jeans. “I don’t like this any more than you, but you’re in danger. You’re all in danger. Until we nail this guy, every woman inside that house is a potential target. Even if this guy is only after you, I’d imagine everyone in town knows that hurting one of your girls is the best way to hurt you. So you and I need to make sure that your home and its residents are safe. We can keep them from becoming prey.”

“But—”

“I’m going to check the windows to make sure they’re locked and that the locks work. I’m going to look at the doors to make sure they’re sturdy. And then I’m going to go back to my hotel.” The urge to validate his statements with physical contact struck, and he went with it, resting his hand on her upper arm.

He could have wrapped his fingers all the way around her biceps if he’d tried. She really was much smaller than she came across, all gumption and guts.

Her eyes turned hard and then softer, and he’d have given anything to be able to read her mind. Instead he prayed that she’d consent. This was the first step to protecting Ashley. The first step to finding the man behind the notes.

Finally she nodded. “All right. But you’ll stay by me the whole time.”

He’d do whatever it took to find the creep responsible. And staying by Ashley’s side while he was at it? He’d never had a sweeter assignment.

* * *

As they stepped from the dim front step into the bright foyer, Ashley worried on her bottom lip. Had she done the right thing letting Matt into Lil’s? Would he frighten women already traumatized by men they’d trusted?

On the verge of changing her mind, she ran into Benita, a young mom. “Ashley! You have to see—” Her voice died on her lips as she spied Matt, still standing behind Ashley.

Should she introduce Matt or demand to know what had sent Benita into such a frenzy? Deciding Matt could wait, she stepped directly in front of the woman and grabbed her hands. “What’s going on? What’s happened?”

Benita’s gaze swept back to Ashley’s face. “It’s not that important.”

“Of course it is. What’s wrong?”

Matching pink spots appeared on her olive cheeks. “It’s really nothing...I just finished knitting Julio’s sweater.”

Ashley patted Benita’s hands, her voice rising. “I’d love to see it! But first—” she nodded behind her “—this is my friend Matt.”

Suddenly his arm snaked around her, hand outstretched to Benita, whose wide, unblinking eyes never left Matt’s face. Ashley twisted to get a better view of him, and when she did, her breath caught in her throat. All traces of determination had vanished. In its place was a smile so gentle and serene that she’d have let him into her home without question.

And Benita responded to it. Unclenching her fists, she slipped her hand into his much larger one. “Matt Waterstone, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Caution and trust battled across Benita’s face before she bowed her head and murmured an unintelligible response. When she lifted her head, her smile reached the whole way across her face.

“Did you say you’d finished knitting a sweater?” Matt continued talking, keeping her between him and Benita. “Could we see it?”

Benita’s eyes shone with something akin to pride. Something that had been missing since her arrival. She motioned for them to follow her into the living room, where a boy and two girls played on the carpet.

All three looked up from their game as the adults walked in, and Ashley made quick introductions, pointing out and naming each of the children. “Julio, Greta, Sara, this is my friend Matt.”

Again he offered that smile. The one that belied that he was a warrior, trained to do his job better than nearly anyone else on the planet. The one that made her stomach roll ever so slightly.

Suddenly he dropped to his knees next to the children’s board game and drew even with the smallest child. “Can I join you, Greta?”

The little girl tucked her chin in, but looked up at him through enormous blue eyes. Her bright red pigtails fell over her shoulders as her tiny fingers placed the dice into Matt’s weathered ones. He winked at the little girl and asked how to play the game just as Lil Kitrick entered, eyeing him with concern.

With shuffling steps she approached Matt, who popped to his feet, appearing at least twice Lil’s size. “Ma’am.” He held out his hand to shake hers. “Matt Waterstone.”

“Lillian. But everyone ’round here calls me Lil.”

His smile competed with the lights adorning the Christmas tree in the corner. “This must be your place.”

She nodded. “It was. It’s more Ashley’s now. But she does let me stay here.”

Ashley walked up behind her mentor, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Lil, you’re too humble, as usual. We couldn’t do any of this without you.”

After a few more words, Lil seemed to give her approval of Matt and moved to her rocking chair in the corner to knit. Matt dropped back to the floor and picked up the game with the kids.

She could have watched them play for hours, and she might have if Benita hadn’t drawn her to the couch, where a slightly uneven sweater lay over the arm.

The evening passed like a flash, the dinner table surrounded by curious glances toward their visitor. But it was Julio, sitting next to Matt, who finally asked the lingering question. “Why are you here?”

The boy’s mother looked as if she could fall out of her chair, hushing Julio with fluttering hands. But Matt gave the boy a lopsided grin, chewing slowly on a bite of dinner. Ashley chomped on her own mouthful, trying to beat him to the answer, but the baked chicken lodged in her throat.

After a quick swallow, Matt said, “I came into town to visit Ashley, and heard about some petty crime in town. Thought I could stop by and double-check that all your locks are working right.”

“Can I go with you?” Julio bounced in his chair, dropping his fork to the floor with a clatter. “Please.”

“Finish your chow first, and then I don’t see why not.”

By the time the meal was over and Matt had taken Julio and Benita around to each room, showing them how to test to make sure the window locks were secure, it was nearly ten.

Ashley turned off the security alarm and opened the front door to let Matt step onto the front stoop. As she did, a chill ran down her spine like the weight of someone’s gaze heavy on her shoulders. She couldn’t make out any shapes in the darkness and decided the chill must have been caused by the cool evening air.

“We found a couple broken window locks, and the chain on the front door isn’t going to keep out more than a tomcat.” Matt stopped and looked over his shoulder in the same direction she’d glanced a moment before. He turned back to her with a furrowed brow, but he didn’t say anything about it. She wondered if he’d felt the same thing she had. “I’ll be back in the morning to fix those.”

“Thank you, Matt.” Without even realizing it, she put her hand on his arm, and the muscles below his jacket sleeve rippled at just her touch. Jerking back, she tried to cover her action. “You were great with the kids tonight.”

“Anytime.” His voice trailed off as he turned to peer over his shoulder again. “Are you expecting anyone tonight?”

“No.” She fought another chill. “Is there... Do you feel like someone’s out there?”

Matt’s head bobbed very slowly as his eyes traveled back and forth, scanning the lawn. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw jumped and his fists clenched. “Stay inside and lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me.”

Her objection died on her lips as a man in black materialized near the corner of her lawn.