Page 13 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
“Her name is Patty. Charlie told her she could stay for free before he even knew her name.”
“Wes.”
Mitch grunts and stands, interrupting Charlie’s exasperated groan. Without another word to Charlie or me, he takes off his eye gear and strides evenly out of the shed.
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
“Where do you think?” he says. “To meet our guest.”
CHAPTER 5
Patty
Iclose the door on the men, releasing a breath before resting with my back against the wooden surface.
Damn.
God really took his time when he was making those brothers. How can the two look so differently appealing yet so universally attractive simultaneously?
Charlie and Wes were both tall, and well-built with chiseled jawlines, but that’s where the similarities ended. Wes appeared softer, with humor and mischief twinkling in his brown eyes. His hair is red unlike Charlie’s brown curls, and on the longer side, locks secured at the top of his head with a rubber band. I’ve always thought manbuns looked stupid on most people, but I can't deny that Wes' hairstyle has a certain appeal. At the very least, I felt like tugging on the band so I could see all that hair cascading down.
And then maybe grip it as I drag his head to mine so I can suck on his lips…
Come on Patty, you're doing it again.
I need to settle down. It’s bad enough that I was in the bathtub masturbating about Charlie when they knocked. Ibarely had enough time to get out and throw on some clothes before going to answer the door. And now I'm practically salivating over his brother.
And there’s a third one? I can only imagine how devastating that will be for my libido.
Either way, my imagination is as far as I’ll let it go with those brothers, especially Wes. That one in particular smelled like trouble. He's clearly a natural flirt and while he seems like a nice guy, I’ve learned to stay away from men with that much charisma. My ex-boyfriend, for example, was a charmer when I met him. He had a magnetic personality that just drew me in and made me feel like I was the most important person to him. He got me flowers, swept me off my feet, and promised me the world. He did all the right things to have me fall into his clutches.
I only figured out his true nature after it was too late.
I shudder a little as I head to my sleeping daughters. The AC keeps the room cool enough but not so cool that we need a blanket. I get into bed beside them, thinking back to everything that brought me to this moment. Despite my fatigue, some leftover adrenaline is fueling the worry in my mind, telling me that I’m still not far enough away. It’s telling me to get back in the car and keep driving until I reach the end of the earth, until I’m absolutely sure he can never get to me again.
I remember one of the last times he hit me. When he put his hand around my neck and brought me close enough to whisper into my ears.
If you ever leave me my little Patty Cake, I’ll hunt you,find you, and kill you.
As my heart clamors, I close my eyes, performing the breathing exercises like my therapist taught me. My body trembles but I can’t afford to give into panic now. Not untilmy daughters are safe. Then maybe I can deal with my emotions.
My girls are all the family I have left. They are the ones who gave me the strength to leave.
For a long time, I was too terrified to defy Keegan, scared that he would follow through on his threats. Plus, I excused my staying with him because up until that point, he hadn't been abusive to the girls, and all his bitterness was saved for me. I thought I could handle it. I thought that if I absorbed all his badness, then he would never turn it on my daughters. I thought that they would be safe.
Until the day that Katie picked up one his prized pieces of Chinese porcelain and dropped it onto the stone hearth, smashing it to smithereens, and I saw the rage flare up in his eyes.
“You stupid little bitch,” he snarled and raised his hand. The sight of my daughter flinching before him made me snap. I grabbed a kitchen knife, threw myself in front of her, and brandished it at him.
“Don’t you touch her," I snarled. “Don’t ever fucking touch her in your life.”
He jerked back, caught off guard. The shock in his face told me everything I needed to know. He never thought I had it in me. I’d always appeared meek and biddable, but then he’d never tried to touch my children before.
Maybe if it was just me I could have born the beatings, the insults, the never-ending cycle of shady men coming in and out of our home.
But I refused to let my daughters grow up like that.
Because I knew that eventually, I would not be able to keep them safe anymore.
