Page 54 of Protecting What Is Mine

23

Mollie

“This is all of the stuff I think I’ll need.” I heave a bag filled with clothes and toiletries and hair supplies onto the couch.

Hank picks up the bag to test the weight for himself and seems surprised by its heft. “Why don’t you go see if Sam needs help packing up Vanessa and I’ll get this out to the truck?”

“Sounds good.” I step into him and deposit a kiss on his lips. “Thank you for this. Truly.”

“No thanks needed, beautiful,” Hank says as he wraps his arms around me. “I won’t feel better until I know you girls are safe.” He lowers his hand and smacks my butt. “Now get in there and help your cousin before she comes to her senses.”

“Yes, sir,” I say over my shoulder as I make my way back to Vanessa’s room. “Need any help?” I whisper from the doorway. Sam nods and waves me in, then motions for me to be careful of the toy minefield. I squat beside her in front of Vanessa’s toys.

She blows out a quiet sigh. “I have no idea how long we’ll be gone and therefore have no idea how much to pack. Will it be for a few days? A week? What happens after that?” she whispers.

I begin to reassure her that everything is going to work out and that we’ll probably be back home in a couple of days. But the faint sound of people arguing distracts me. I look to Sam and see she hears it too.

“Is that coming from next door?” she asks.

I step into the hall, straining to hear the heated exchange. I point toward the living room. “I think it’s out front.” As I continue forward, the voices become clearer and by the time I reach the door it’s obvious one of those voices belongs to Hank.

Except for the silhouettes of a few trees and cars illuminated by the sliver of moonlight above, all I see is darkness. As my eyes adjust, I recognize the outline of a crusty old Lincoln blocking the driveway.

Holy shit.

I cover my eyes with my hand as I step onto the porch. I make out two men, barely more than shadows moving in the darkness. My ears assist in tracking their movement as the volume of their voices rises with each word.

“Hank! What’s going on?”

One of the shadows stops. “I’ve got this under control. Go back inside, lock the door, and call the sheriff.”

I step inside and shut off the porch light in the hopes it will help me see what’s happening. I come back to the door, ready to step back and slam it closed at the first hint of trouble moving this way. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t look away. The thought of Clint hurting Hank—because of me—is unbearable. I hear Hank, loud but calm as he instructs Clint to leave. “I’m warning you…last chance. Leave these women alone, or else.”

Sam startles me half to death when she comes to stand behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Clint! Hank’s trying to deal with him, but we need to call nine-one-one.”

“Got it.” Sam steps away and before I’m completely distracted by the argument outside I hear her pick up the phone and dial.

Grunting and shouting transitions to shoving and I know things are about to get bad.

* * *

Hank

Are you fucking kidding me? Did he really just push me?

“Whoa, Hoss. I don’t know how you thought this was going to go down, but I’ve had more than my fill of you. And I never let a man put hands on me and get away with it.”

The sky above is clear but with only a crescent moon, it’s damned difficult to see more than two feet in front of me.

Thanks to the adrenaline coursing through my veins, things begin to happen in slow motion. I hear Clint take a deep breath, and then exhale a heavy grunt as he steps forward. My eyes have adjusted enough to make out a twist in his torso, telegraphing the first punch. I lean back as far as I’m able, but his fist still grazes my jaw.

Goddamn. He hits hard.

Instinctively, I step forward, shoving Clint with as much force as I can. An attempt at buying time while I shake off the impact. I don’t know much about this dude’s story, but I know me. And I survived growing up in the middle of a six pack of brothers—none of whom ever backed down from a fight. I’m confident I can hold my own.

Clint rushes at me like he intends to tackle me. I wait until he’s too close to stop and step to the side, letting his own momentum work against him. When his body enters the space he expected me to be occupying, I slip behind him and wrap my arm around his neck, putting him in a choke hold.

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