Page 6 of Bossy Hero

“Fuuuck,” Sawyer whines, drawing another laugh from me.

By the time I get to the doorway, Lionheart is returning. He flips his phone closed and slides it into his pocket. Face ashen, he radiates fury.

I’m instantly on high alert and plant myself in front of him. “You okay?”

Dragging his hand through his short-cropped hair, he wobbles his jaw from side to side like he’s attempting to stop grinding his teeth. “It’s uh-um... my mom.”

Oh fuck.

I grab him by the arm and lead him back outside for some privacy. “What happened?”

Unable to speak, he balls his hands into tight fists, shaking them in front of his waist.

While I wait for an explanation, my mind whirls. His visible anger doesn’t track after an interaction with his mother. Leo loves her wholeheartedly. He’s never spoken ill of her. Not even once. If she’s been harmed, why isn’t he sad or shocked?

Unless she was harmed by someone.

As my thoughts crystallize and the dots connect, my chest constricts.

“Talk to me, kid,” I coax.

He blinks to dispel his rage and focuses on me. “I need to go. Need to get to her.”

“Is she hurt? In danger? Where is she?”

He gives only partial answers. “She-uh. Drove here.”

“To Georgia?”

“Yeah.”

“All the way from Maine?”

He nods, still brimming with fury. The veins in his neck pop and bulge.

The longer this conversation goes, the more his reaction cements my theory that her husband hurt her.

Again.

Resigned acceptance settles on my shoulders, held up by a simmering ire of my own. “This isn’t a friendly surprise visit, is it?”

The fire in his eyes clears marginally as he gets some of his rage in check. “No. She came to get away from him. To hide.”

“From your father?”

He grits his teeth. “Yeah.”

Reaching over his broad frame, I crimp my hand on his shoulder, hoping to infuse him with my unwavering support. “Where is she? What does she need?”

“She stopped at a diner just off base. I told her I’d head over.”

To my knowledge, Mrs. Mason hasn’t visited him on base, so she likely doesn’t have an active visitor pass. I could make a few calls to see what we can do to help, but then what? Even if I could get it cleared, where would she sleep?

This is messy.

“Need a lift?” I ask him, knowing he doesn’t have a car.

“Sawyer can drop me off,” he starts, then his head and shoulders sag. “Fuck. He’s had too much to drink.”

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