Page 92 of His Own Heaven

She would protect Josie and Diana, she would keep her promise and keep them safe. With her dying breath if necessary. For the first time in a long time, Lucy had a family. Toby’s family.

The Bennett’s and the Melville’s had welcomed her with open arms and given her brothers and sisters and nieces, a father and mother who hugged her and smiled at her and treated her with respect and kindness, and she had a boyfriend who loved her, who told her she was perfect just as she was, scars and all.

And she loved him, Toby Bennett. Her gentle giant, her Master. Her heart.

Lucy was not tossing that aside to save her own skin, and certainly not to save the likes of a manipulative bitch like Isobel. She just had to stall them a little longer, keep them there until the police arrived and arrested them.

She could do that for her family.

“It’s not in my nature to abandon children,” she snarled at them, her hands curling into fists, ready to fight.

“But they’re not even your children,” Isobel snapped, throwing her hands in the air.

“Yes. They. Are. And you can take them when I’m dead.”

“Works for me.” Scary Dude stepped around the desk and grabbed Lucy’s throat, squeezed hard.

“Is that all you’ve got,” she taunted through gritted teeth, staring him down. He looked less scary when he was right in her face, when her temper reared its head and her knee flew upwards of its own volition. Twice, in sharp succession.

Dude crumpled to the floor in a heap, groaning and cupping his balls. “Fucking bitch.”

Isobel pinched the bridge of her nose and any concern, pretend or otherwise, disappeared. “I told them sending a man would be useless. They never listen.”

“They never listen? How many times have you done this?” Lucy demanded. “How many times have you lured innocent children away from their families to get yourself out of debt? Because that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Saving your arse at the expense of theirs.”

Again real fear flickered across Isobel’s face but was gone in an instant, replaced with an uptilted chin and a tight smile. “I owe them,” she said, her haughty expression failing to disguise the tremor in her voice. “If I don’t do this they’ll kill me.”

“Better you than them,” Lucy snarled, holding her ground. “I’m not giving you what you want, you entitled bitch. I’m not letting you do to those girls what you did to your own sons.” Then she shook her head and scowled, unable to contain her disgust. “You’re their mother. You were supposed to protect them, not offer them up as sacrificial lambs.” Angry tears wet her cheeks. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The sound of distant sirens rent the air and Isobel’s desperation came roaring to the fore, chased away all remnants of her fear. Grabbing the coffee cup, she popped the lid and threw the contents in Lucy’s face.

Coffee went everywhere and Lucy screamed as it burned, scalding her arm and neck as she tried to block the hot liquid and prevent it from getting in her eyes.

Using the distraction to her advantage, Isobel shoved her out of the way in one last ditch attempt to open the door. Stumbling sideways, Lucy came face to face with Scary Dude as he levered himself off the floor.

His greasy smile was the last thing she saw before he backhanded her hard enough to knock her down.

Hard enough to knock her out.

When Lucy came to she was still lying on the floor, but now an ambo—Andy, according to his name badge—was looming over her, applying something cold to her cheek, and the police were marching her assailants out in handcuffs.

Isobel was kicking and screaming, hurling threats at anyone within spitting distance, and Scary Dude had blood all over his swollen face and down the front of his shirt, like someone had broken his nose and possibly his jaw.

Lucy blinked slowly. “What did I miss?” she asked, then sucked air through her teeth, the pain in her jaw from Scary Dude’s backhand and the sting on her arm where the coffee had scalded her skin beginning to register in her consciousness.

“Lucy.” Toby suddenly appeared behind Andy and smiled down at her, a look of relief blanketing his handsome face. “My brave girl.”

“What happened? How long was I out?”

“Watch my finger,” Andy said and slowly moved the digit in front of her face. Lucy tracked the movement easily. “Good. You’re not showing signs of concussion.” He looked up at Toby. “Keep an eye on her just in case. If she has any nausea, light sensitivity, persistent headaches—”

“My head aches now,” Lucy said.

“You hit the chair on your way down,” Toby said, crouching beside her. He smoothed her hair away from her face, the touch gentle and reassuring. “You were out of it for a couple of minutes. You gave me the fright of my life. And you’ll probably have a few new bruises tomorrow.”

Andy’s gaze sharpened with concern. “New bruises?”

Lucy blushed even as she offered the poor medic a sly grin. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “I promise.” Then her gaze shifted to Toby’s and she smiled up at him, let her love show for all to see. “My Master takes very good care of me.”

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