“I’m trying to help, Tess, with this guy, you’re in danger,” Damian told me as the 911

operator informed me she was sending a unit to the scene.

I ignored his idiocy and told him, “They’re sending a unit to the scene.”

He stared at me. Then he looked at a Vance Crowe who was standing close to me, grinning his shit-eating grin, arms crossed on his chest.

Then Damian looked at me one last time, moved away and disappeared into the shadows.

Vance uncrossed his arms and dug his phone out of his back jeans pocket. “You stay on with the operator, I’ll call Slim.”

I nodded. Then I told the operator Damian took off but I’d like to make a complaint as Vance told Brock what went down and Brock told Vance he was on his way.

Then the operator released me after telling me to get safe and stay put and I called Martha and begged off girls’ night in thankful I had an excuse but not thankful as to what that excuse was. Martha, surprisingly, agreed that, after a visit from Damian I should relax at home with my boys. But she wasn’t allowed to let me go until Shirleen confirmed I would be at the bakery the next day to peruse my nightie options and for her to collect on her debt.

I confirmed this through Martha then Vance and I waited for the police.

“Good news is, he’s dropped his shit with Slim,” Vance said into the night and I looked up at his profile. “He isn’t diggin’ anymore. He found the only things he could find, laid those out for you tonight and his activities on that have ground to a halt.”

I turned my head and replied into the night, “That is good news.”

And it was.

“The bad news is, he isn’t done fuckin’ with you,” Vance went on.

I sighed.


“I know,” I whispered.

“Advice,” Vance said softly and I looked up to him to see his eyes tipped down to me.

“No more conversation. You see him, you pull out your phone immediately and you dial 911.

Even if he’s near but hasn’t tried to engage you, you make note of it, keep the card of the officer assigned to your case, you call him or her and you report it. Yeah?”

This sounded like good advice and Vance Crowe looked like a man who knew what he was talking about so I nodded.

“You want more good news?” he asked.

“Uh… yeah, more good news is always good.”

He nodded. Then he stated, “His shit is comin’ to trial. Word on the street is they got a fuckin’ great case. Word also on the street is, he’s scramblin’. This means he’s either gonna rat on factions higher than him which makes him a marked man and, with the scum he worked for, they’ll make certain he won’t live to see trial, or it means he’s gonna go down and when he does, that’ll be for awhile. You gotta live with this a little while longer, Tess, but, one way or another, it’ll be done. It just depends on how permanent that done’ll be.”

Hmm.

“Which way do you think he’s leaning?” I asked.

“Man moved up fast, he isn’t dumb, no way he’s stupid enough to rat.”

Conflicting news.

I didn’t want to think I was the kind of person who wanted to see her ex-husband dead regardless of how hideously he treated me but I was bone tired, standing outside my bakery, waiting for police in the dark cold of the night and this was the second official complaint I would make in a day when many people lived their whole lives without making even one.

Granted, a serious hot guy was standing beside me but he didn’t happen to be mine. Mine was arriving imminently and he was probably going to show pissed.

Therefore, although I couldn’t exactly say I wanted Damian dead, I could say when this was done I wanted it to be done the permanent kind of permanently.

“That conflict you got workin’ on your face,” Vance said quietly and I focused on him,

“we all got that inside us. Either way it goes down for Heller, he bought that trouble, that’s on him and it’s outta your hands. What I want you to take away is, soon this shit is done for you and it’s done for Slim. Hold onto that, be smart and stay strong.”

I nodded again.

Then I looked down at his hand and saw a wide, shiny, gold wedding band proudly displayed.

I looked back into his eyes. “You’re married?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“She’s lucky,” I whispered and he grinned his shit-eating grin again.

“Sorry, Tess, that’s me.”

Great freaking response.

So great, I felt my face go soft and I smiled. “Bet she thinks differently.”

His face went soft too and he replied, “Yeah, she does, one of the many reasons she makes me lucky.”

I heard the sirens and I suspected he was a man on the move and wouldn’t hang around long enough for me to offer him gratitude cupcakes.

So, quickly, I said, “Thanks for stepping in tonight.”

“Slim wanted you on radar, you’re on radar. You got eyes on you often but definitely anytime you lock up alone and he called and told us tonight you were lockin’ up alone.”

I didn’t know this but I liked it.

“Well, thanks.”

He jerked up his chin. Then he grinned. Then I smiled back. Then the cop car showed.


Ten minutes later Brock showed and I was right, the boys were in the truck looking freaked and Brock was in it looking pissed. I was also right about Vance; he made his statement, gave his card and took off.

Ten minutes after that, Brock and the boys followed behind my car as we drove to his house.

Ten seconds after I arrived, I turned on the taps in the bath.

* * * * *

“Babe,” I heard but didn’t move. “Tess,” I heard from closer and I still didn’t move.

But a noise escaped my lips and it was, “Mm?”

“How long you gonna stay in the tub?” Brock asked and I couldn’t see him, seeing as I had a wet washcloth on my face, but I knew from his voice he was crouched right by the tub.

“Infinity,” I muttered.

I heard a chuckle then I heard water splash then I heard Brock again. “Water isn’t even warm anymore.”

“If I don’t move,” I told the washcloth, “I can pretend it’s still steaming.”

“Tess, darlin’, get out, you need dinner. It’s nearly nine.”

“I’m too tired to eat.”

“You still gotta do it.”

“If I leave this tub, I enter the world. Damian doesn’t exist in here. Olivia doesn’t exist in here.” Reluctantly, I lifted a hand, removed the cloth from my face, looked into his silver eyes and suggested, “Let’s move in here. We can buy a mini-fridge, a tiny microwave and a camp stove and we’ll be set.”

He grinned. “I think, even for you, it’d be a challenge to make a carrot cake on a camp stove.”

“Yes,” I muttered, looking to my toes at the end of the tub, “that would be a drawback.”

His hand moved to cup my jaw and force my face back to looking at his where I saw his eyes had melted mercury.

“My sweet Tess has had a bad day,” he murmured.

“Yes, officially it becomes a bad day when you make a complaint to the police about your boyfriend’s ex-wife. Then it becomes a very bad day when you make another one about your ex-husband.”

He held my eyes as his hand moved, his fingertips gliding along my neck and down as he said, “Get outta the tub, get some food in you and then I’ll make the day go away.”

His fingertips were still moving down, now at my chest, they kept going, into the water, they slid between my breasts and kept going down as I felt my heartbeat escalate.

“You’ll make the day go away?” I breathed.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his hand gliding through the water at my belly and down and automatically I shifted my legs to give him access.

He grinned then his hand went down.

My eyes closed slowly and my lips parted.

“You want the day to go away, baby?” he asked quietly, his fingers moving magically.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Then suddenly his hand was gone but his arms were around me and water splashed everywhere as he pulled me straight out of the tub and put me on my feet in front of him, my wet body tight to his, his arms wrapped around.

“Brock!” I cried, fingers curved around his biceps.

“Food, rest, hang with the boys until they go to sleep then I’ll make your day go away.”

“Okay, fine but you got the bathroom all wet and you all wet,” I informed him.


“I got dry clothes and the floor’s tile, sweetness, it’s not a big deal. What is a big deal is I can’t keep an eye on you and a finger on the pulse of your state of mind and my boys with you hidin’ in the bathroom, turnin’ yourself into a prune.”

“I’m fine.”

“You had a shit day.”

“I know but I’ll survive.”

He shook his head. “My job is not to help you survive, Tess. It’s to make it safe and sweet when you walk through my door. Now, my woman is not goin’ to bed hungry because my ex-wife is a cunt and her ex-husband is a motherfucking dickhead. She’s gonna eat, she’s gonna curl close to me, she’s gonna show my boys she’s okay and then we’re gonna go to bed and I’m gonna make her day go away. Yeah?”

That sounded like a good plan. Actually a great plan. Actually, I should have thought of it myself.

So, of course, I agreed and I did that by saying, “Yeah.”

He smiled. Then he dropped his head and kissed me lightly.

Then he said, “See you downstairs.”

He was at the bathroom door and I had a towel held up in front of me when I called his name and he turned back.

“Vance said you were the reason he was there tonight.”