Page 9 of Guardian

"You're lucky she didn't deck you. Flame's not a clubwhore, Rod."

Rod walked out, sputtering and muttering under his breath. I watched him go and then turned to look at Flame. I swore I saw her eyes flick up to watch him go, but then she put her head right back down. It was like a goddamned soap opera around here sometimes.

I heard yelling coming from the back corner where a few men were putting bets on an informal game of poker and stood up, grumbling. It was going to be a long fucking night.

I finally rolled into bed at 2 a.m. My cellphone blasted me from sleep thirty minutes later. I grumbled a hello without checking to see who was dumb enough to wake me in the middle of the night.

“Kirk? Help me! I’m scared. My dad’s here. He’s fighting with my mom. He wants money. She won’t give it to him. What if he hurts her?”

I was already up and tugging on a shirt as soon as I recognized Jackson’s voice.

“Does he have a weapon?” I asked as I tried to decide whether or not to take a gun.

“I don’t know,” he was saying when I heard the sound of breaking glass. “No!” he screamed, and I heard his feet running over the floor. “Mom! Are you hurt?”

“I’m on the way!” I shouted, but I didn’t think Jackson heard.

This fucker was about to meet his worst nightmare.

Chapter 5

I was so groggyI didn’t understand what I was hearing. I’d been deep into a dream when the noise began. Jackson’s scream was the catalyst that made my head clear.

He was at my bedroom door. His hair stood in tufts from all the tossing and turning he’d done in bed, his skin pale, his eyes widened with terror, and his lips quivered.

“Mom, who is it? What’s happening? Should I call the police?” he hysterically rambled over the pounding on our front door.

“I’ll do it,” I said, reaching for my phone on the bedside table. “Go to your room and don’t come out unless I tell you to.”

“But, Mom,” he sputtered.

“Go!” I commanded, and he obeyed.

The front door crashed open, and fear held me motionless. I looked around for a weapon and saw only a lamp and a chair that was too heavy for me to lift. I had to make certain whoever had broken in didn’t know Jackson was here. They had to be made to believe I was alone.

I could have climbed out the bedroom window, but I’d never leave my son in danger. I’d die to protect him.

I’d made this same decision twelve years before. This was déjà vu, and terror overcame good sense. Rather than hiding or making the call to the police as I’d intended, I rushed to face the intruder.

Mitch, my ex, was in the living room, digging through the drawers on my desk. Sadly, knowing it was him and not some stranger who’d knocked down my door brought down my fear level several notches, which was foolish.

In this condition, obviously high, he was as dangerous as any criminal. Maybe even more.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mitch? You’re breaking and entering. The cops are going to put you away again. You’re high and scaring your son,” I told him in hopes of calming the situation before things got worse.

“If you’d answered the fucking door I wouldn’t have broken it down! A man should be able to get in his own home without the damn door being locked against him!” Mitch shouted.

Anger pushed back any fear that remained. “This isn’t your damn house! It’s mine. I bought it with the money I legally earned at my legitimate job. You don’t live here and never will. In fact, you’ve barely set foot in it since I bought it even though you’re supposed to visit our son! Get out or go to jail!”

He looked up at me, bloodshot eyes blazing. “You’re such a bitch! You think you’re too good for me now that you’ve got a fancy-ass degree. Well, since you want to brag hand over some cash, show me all that money you’ve got to waste on this tiny shit of a house! I need it more than you, and you owe me!”

I pursed my lips. If only I could be free of this man forever. If only we both could. And jail wasn’t the answer either. He’d already been many times, but restraining orders and court caseswere useless. The judges all thought a boy should know his father, even if he was a piece of shit.

“The only thing I owe you is a kick in the ass! You’ve done nothing for me or Jackson. You don’t pay child support, and I never asked for it. I won’t even ask you to pay for the broken door if you’ll just get out. I don’t want anything from you. Besides, you can’t get blood from a damn stone.”

“Mom! Make him leave!” Jackson yelled from the hallway.

“Go to your room and stay there this time!” I commanded.

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