Page 10 of Clara's Secure Hideaway

His thoughts wandered back to his mother. To his father, who’d done whatever he could to make her life hell until they’d finally broken free.

“What was wrong with the car?” Owen asked, regaining his attention.

“Not sure. I planned to check it out myself. Maybe have it towed to my place so I could mess with it before she’s forced to hire a mechanic. Money’s probably tight if she went to the shelter. It’s the least I can do.”

Owen’s eyes narrowed, and Heath struggled not to squirm. “Why’s that?”

He clenched his jaw, not wanting to convey too much. He’d worked for the sheriff’s department for the past four years, and in that time had created a good-enough relationship with Owen. But that didn’t mean he wanted to expose all the ugliness from his past.

His mom had moved them to Water’s Edge after finally leaving his father. The fresh start had been exactly what they’d both needed. Heath had decided long ago that the life they’d fled was no one else’s business, and he planned to keep it that way.

“She has plenty on her plate. The last thing she needs is to make arrangements to get her car towed and fixed. And if she’s going to stand a chance at staying away from Mitch, she’ll need a vehicle. Hell, I don’t even know if I can fix it or not. But might as well try.”

“Let me know if you need a hand,” Owen said. “My brother and I used to help our pappy fix all kinds of shit at his place when we were younger. I know Tommy wouldn’t mind pitching in.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Keep me posted. Head on home when you’re finished with your report. We shouldn’t need you anymore tonight. Salt’s finally down on the slick roads. Hopefully the accident earlier is the only one we have to worry about. Thanks for helping.” Owen returned to his office.

Heath watched him disappear behind the closed door then returned his attention to his computer. He shoved aside all thoughts of Clara, her kids, and the abusive asshole she was trying to escape. Making quick work of the details of their encounter, he shut down the computer and headed outside.

His car was parked in the lot behind the building. Once inside, he turned over the engine and sat, his mind venturing to Clara. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, deciding what to do next. He’d already called and paid for the tow truck—her vehicle would be waiting at his place when he returned home. But the thought of heading to an empty house to stew over his tumultuous emotions sounded like as much fun as wiping out on a patch of black ice.

Only one person could talk him off his emotional edge, even if she’d be annoyed to see him again.

But this time, she’d welcome him back into her home once she saw the look on his face. His mom might complain about wanting her independence, but nothing was more important than making sure he was all right.

And after driving Clara and her children to Safe Haven Women’s Shelter, he was pretty damn far from all right. Intuition told him tonight was only the beginning, because if he knew one thing, it was that Mitch Parson wouldn’t let Clara just walk away.

And no way in hell he’d stand by and watch her or her kids continue to be bullied.

* * *

The morning sunpeeked into the pretty little room and covered the bed Clara shared with both of her children. Her exhausted body begged her to keep her eyes shut and hide away from the world as long as possible, but the constant buzzing beside her bed insisted she meet the day.

Not wanting to wake the children, she unwrapped Avery’s arm from around her stomach and plucked her phone from the nightstand without touching Davey. Mitch’s name on the screen sent her heart to her throat.

Why was he calling? Why hadn’t she thought to block his number?

Her hands shook and terror constricted her chest. She hated how her body reacted to just the sight of his name. Hesitation hovered her finger over the screen. Should she press the little red button to ignore the call or let it ring through? Which would make him angrier?

She smothered a humorless laugh. Who was she kidding? No amount of thinking or analyzing could diffuse Mitch’s temper. There wasn’t a correct colored wire to snip to disable this bomb.

No matter what button on the screen she pressed.

The buzzing stopped and Mitch’s name disappeared. The vise tightening her lungs loosened for a second before a text message came through. She shouldn’t read it. Nothing he said mattered. Best to not even allow his words into her head.

“Mama?” Davey rubbed his fists over his eyes and yawned.

“Hi baby,” she whispered, placing her phone back on the stand without opening the message. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

The whispering caused Avery to stir, and she rolled onto her back, stretching her arms high above her head. Dark curls stuck to her cheeks and a little groan came through her parted lips.

Davey’s eyes flew wide. “She’s not happy. She hates mornings. I hope she doesn’t cry.”

Clara kissed the top of Davey’s head. After months without his father, Davey was still frightened that any misbehavior from him or his sister would cause trouble. “It’s okay if she does. No one here will get upset if your sister makes some noise. Well, at least no one besides us. We don’t want to hear her scream, do we?” She scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue, enticing a round of giggles from her son.

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