Page 9 of One More Chance

“How did you get from there to tossing that woman through the window?”

He had to have come here to watch out for Kenna, knowing she had an appointment. Every few days, she spotted either him or Ramon somewhere in her periphery, though she hadn’t seen Ramon in a couple of weeks. Both of them seemed to be working protection detail—keeping her safe. But also maintaining their distance so she and Jax could be newlyweds enjoying their happily ever after.

She hadn’t asked her team to watch out for her. They’d simply taken it upon themselves to do that for her.

Bruce said, “She stomped over and demanded they get up. She would’ve taken them with her, so I intervened, and things escalated fast. She put her hands on the girl, and the kid screamed in pain. I got her off the kid and over to the door. Told her to go. She tried to punch me. I stopped her. We tussled. Probably too close to the window because we went through it.”

Speaking of…

Kenna looked out right as a black-and-white police squad car pulled into the parking lot for the strip mall. Two officers climbed out.

Kenna figured she’d probably end up being taken in for questioning. First, though, she wanted to find out the rest of what was going on. She wandered over to the kids, who were huddled beside each other on waiting area chairs.

She crouched in front of them, keeping her distance, just in case they didn’t want their space invaded. “Hi, I’m Kenna.”

They both stared at her. The boy, the older brother. The protector. He stared right back, as if challenging her before he even knew what she wanted. This kid lived his life on the offensive.

The little girl hadn’t quite learned that lesson, which was probably why she wound up being the punching bag. The onewho had been injured. She was the weak link. She looked at her brother, then at Kenna, and said nothing. Her gaze strayed to Bruce, over Kenna’s shoulder, with a little bit of awe in her expression.

“That’s my friend. His name is Bruce.” She kept her tone and her expression soft, as if she was sharing a secret. “He used to be aspy. Now he keeps people safe. Me, or anyone who needs it.”

The boy’s gaze whipped over to Bruce, a little disbelief in his expression.

“That’s what I do as well. I help people when they need it.”

“We don’t need help,” the boy said, no faltering in his tone.

“Everyone needs help sometimes. Even Bruce.”

Behind her, he said, “It’s true, kid. We all need help sometimes.”

“Like when we get hurt.” She motioned to the girl, careful to keep it easy and not accusatory. “Or when we’re here to see the doctor, like me.” She looked at the little girl. “Did you get hurt?”

The little girl nodded.

Kenna smiled. “You came to the right place.” She included her brother in that because he’d done the right thing by getting help for his sister. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

The little girl’s eyes filled with tears. “I burned the mac and cheese.”

Her brother stiffened.

“That sounds like an easy thing to do. You made a mistake. I was making cookies the other day, and I forgot all about them,” Kenna said. “They looked like lumps of charcoal, all black and burned. The house smelled like a campfire all day.”

The girl bit her lip.

The door opened, and Kenna glanced over to see the cops come in. When she looked back at the kids, they were at that ready-to-bolt point again. “You haven’t done anything wrong,”she repeated. “And you came to the right place.” She tipped her head to the side. “You don’t need to be afraid of the police.”

“Mommy says they’re pigs.” The little girl flinched like she hadn’t meant to say that.

Kenna said, “Their job is to keep you safe. They’re not going to hurt you. The police are here to keep all of us safe.” She focused on the boy. “Did your mom hurt your sister?”

He pressed his lips together tight and nodded.

“Is that woman outside your mother?” Kenna pointed at the window.

He croaked out the word, “Yes.”

The little girl sniffed.

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