Breaking Away (34 page)

Until Joy dropped Barbie into her plate, face-first.

CHAPTER 26

F
lash jumped to his feet and grabbed Joy’s plate. “I’ve got it. Go ahead and start eating.” He carried the plate to the sink, fished out the doll, rinsed her off and placed her on the window ledge to dry. He dumped the spaghetti in the trash, wiped the plate clean, dried it with a napkin and dished up some more spaghetti and sauce.

Sam and Joy’s uncommon stillness at the table struck him as he placed Joy’s plate in front of her. His gaze leaped to Sam’s face. The small scattering of freckles across her nose stood out against the paleness of her skin.

“Mr. Tim doesn’t yell, Mommy,” Joy said, her voice just above a whisper.

Sam swallowed and her shoulders dropped as she relaxed. “No, he doesn’t.” She drew a full breath, color flowed back into her face, and she smiled. “It was just an accident, and people don’t yell when you do something without meaning to.”

Flash swallowed against the knot in his throat. Their reaction triggered memories he thought had been buried a thousand fathoms deep. But it had been over twenty years ago, and he wasn’t going there. He sat down, put a paper napkin in his lap, and picked up his fork. “This smells great.”

His words seemed to help dissolve the remaining tension, and Sam and Joy picked up their forks, too.

Twenty minutes later, with dinner over and Joy nibbling at a scoop of Rocky Road, he stretched his legs out under the table. “I can’t eat another bite.”

“Not even ice cream?” Joy asked.

He grinned at the spaghetti sauce and chocolate that circled her mouth “Not even ice cream.”

“I’m done, Mommy,” she said after one last bite.

“Wipe your mouth, then say, ‘may I be excused,’ and you can watch television until bath time.”

Joy grabbed a napkin and scrubbed her mouth. “May I be excused?” she parroted.

“Yes, you may.” As Joy disappeared into the living room, Sam smiled at him. “Sure you don’t want ice cream?”

“No, thanks. Too much pasghetti in there.” He patted his stomach.

“Some coffee then?”

“No. I only drink a couple of cups in the morning to wake up.”

“I’ll get Joy settled then and clear the table.” She went into the living room and the sound of the channel changing to a cartoon network reached him. The basic, homey comfort of having dinner with them, breaking bread and sharing the everyday stuff, acted as balm to his homesickness. In the few weeks he’d been here he’d been alone. Except for Sam and Joy.

Some of the women he’d worked for had come on to him. And he’d had more than his share of opportunities for feminine companionship. But it was hard to be interested when you’d already found what you wanted. His gaze strayed to Sam when she returned. Now that she was relaxed again, soft color had bloomed in her cheeks. The lean line of her body as she removed the breadbasket from the center of the table drew his eye to her narrow waist. He remembered the first day they’d met, as she’d stepped out of the police car, how every one of the men’s eyes had been on her legs, including his.

He shouldn’t allow himself to feel for her. Shouldn’t get any more involved than he was. It was only going to hurt them in the long run. But he couldn’t seem to control it.

Flash rose and began to clear the table. He scraped the plates and stacked them in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, returning to the table.

“If we work as a team it takes half the time.”

“Is that how you do things in the military?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He should never have told her he was military. She knew too much already. “Though none of us had to do KP duty other than to hand out K-rations, which pretty much suck. They have the calories to keep you going, but they taste like…” He looked down at her as she ran water in the sink, his gaze tracing the curve of her cheek, then dropping to her breasts, small but firm beneath her blouse. He lost his train of thought.

“You don’t have to finish, I get the picture.” She chuckled. While she rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, he finished clearing the table.

He reached for Barbie on the windowsill to distract himself. Though the spaghetti sauce had washed off, her hair was now an orange-blonde mix, and the dress was stained. He grimaced as he held her up. “I hope this wasn’t a favorite.”

“Periodic favorite.” She took the doll and dunked her in the soapy water, clothes and all. “The dress is probably ruined, but I’ll let Joy use her markers on the hair so she can turn her into Rocker Barbie.” She rinsed the toy, set her on a dishtowel to dry, and smoothed the doll’s hair.

He leaned against the counter while she finished up. “I thought maybe I could show you some of the self-defense moves tonight since we didn’t do it this week.”

She hesitated for a moment. “Okay.”

“How about I take off and do some things at my place, and when you get Joy to bed, you can call me and I’ll come back over. That will give our food time to settle, too.”

“That’s a good idea. She might not understand why Mommy’s trying to learn how to kick butt.”

Flash studied her slender frame. Again. And though she suited him just fine, she’d need to bulk up and gain weight if that was what she was aiming for. He offered her a smile. “If you seriously want to kick butt, you’ll have to start lifting weights and gain some upper body strength. But if you want to fight somebody off and disable them long enough for you to escape, I can show you how to do that right away.”

“I’m more interested in just being able to fight them off. I don’t know if I have the aggressive tendencies needed to try and do more.”

“I guess that depends on how angry you are. But to fight when you’re angry clouds your judgment, too. Give me a call when you want me to come back over.” Though he wanted more, he brushed her cheek with his lips and smiled when soft color rushed into her cheeks. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” She followed him to the living room.

He said good-bye to Joy on the way out and paused as she ran to him for a hug. He knelt, and her delicate arms went around his neck.

“Rocky road is
good
,” she said.

“Yeah it is, sweet tart.” He patted her fragile back, and released her when she pulled back. “It’s supposed to give you sweet dreams, too.”

“Visions of sugar pumpkins, like in the Christmas story?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I think that’s sugar plums.”

“What’s a sugar plum?”

“I have no idea. Maybe you better ask your mom.”

He left while Sam was busy explaining. The sun had gone down, leaving behind the sickly yellow haze. The streetlights hadn’t kicked on, nor the exterior lights on the garage.

He had reached the steps leading up to his apartment when a man stepped out from behind the edge of the garage. Every nerve went on high alert, and he froze and scanned the area, expecting to see more.

“Stay away from my family,” Will Cross said as he walked along the exterior wall to stand six or seven feet away. Dark brown hair lay thick against his skull, and his eyes were the same pale blue as Joy’s. He had a strong, angular jaw and wide, flat cheekbones.

He was easily thirty pounds heavier than Flash, and at two-twenty, more than a hundred pounds heavier than Sam. Jesus, how had she survived a blow from this guy?

Flash studied him, trying to see what the pull for Sam might have been. He was just as the cop had described him, wide through the chest and shoulders, a big guy, but he was carrying at least thirty pounds of fat.

“You don’t have any say in who Sam associates with any longer. You’re divorced.”

“Not for long.”

“I think Sam might have something different to say about that. She’s not going to go back to someone who beats her.”

Cross’s jaw tensed. “We’ll see about that. But in the meantime, I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m the guy who’s going to ruin your business and run you out of town.”

Flash studied him as he leaned against the railing leading up the apartment stairs. “You can try.”

“It will happen.”

Flash made a show of looking behind him. “What no backup?”

Cross came to a standstill, his jaw tensing. “I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me.”

“No, you just do chicken shit, cowardly stuff like carve names into cars and slice tires.”

Flash crossed his arms and let his gaze drift over the sparsely vegetated desert scenery behind Cross, and beyond that to the haze and the distant mountains. “Have you ever been lost out in the desert, Cross? Unless you know the stars and can navigate your way by them, it’s easy to get turned around and disoriented. Especially if you don’t have enough water, and you get dehydrated. And then there are the snakes and scorpions.” He stared at the man. “What do you say we take a trip out there together?”

Cross laughed. “You’re a funny man. I don’t think so.”

“I didn’t think you’d be up for a face-to-face, man-to-man confrontation. After all, you only like to smack women around, right?”

“Not anymore,” he said, his features stiff.

“Sure,” Flash said, a sneer in his voice.

Cross narrowed his eyes and his hands clenched into fists.

Was that how he’d looked when he went after Sam? Anger and adrenaline surged through Flash’s system, and he fought his urge to charge the fucker, aware that was exactly what the man was waiting for. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“What are you going to do? Call the police?”

“No, I won’t call the police. I don’t want to upset Sam or Joy. Something you’re obviously not concerned about.”

A sullen look settled over Cross’s face and he started forward. When he got close to Flash, his body language grew noticeably tense.

Flash remained relaxed but alert. “As much as I’d like to, I’m not going to punch your fucking face in and get arrested for assault. But the next time you come around, I will call the cops.”

Cross shot him a look of controlled violence, and his cheeks turned red. He stomped across the yard and cut across the property diagonally to the street. Flash watched until he was out of sight before he climbed the steps to his apartment.

Though the alarm was still on, he checked the apartment to make sure nothing had been disturbed. He paced the floor, still amped from the adrenaline rush. How had Sam stood against Cross? He was built like a bull. Jesus, no wonder she’d ended up in the hospital. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

He had to get what the son of a bitch had done off his mind or he’d get on his bike and go after him. He couldn’t afford to be arrested for beating the shit out of him. The police thought Tim Carnes was a good guy. He had to keep that impression going. If they checked into his background too closely, they might find holes in his history.

That’s the first thing Cross would do. Get someone to check him out. He’d done the best he could to cover his tracks. But there wasn’t a damn thing he could do if they discovered something. If they somehow came up with the name Harold Timothy Carney, Gilbert might get wind of it and loose the cartel dogs. They’d be coming for him. He’d known it might happen. Had planned for it. But that was before Sam and Joy came into the picture.

He opened his laptop, keyed into the temporary email address he’d created this week and scanned it for any messages from Travis or the boys. He needed cover and there was no one who could provide it. He had to warn Travis. He sent a brief message to Travis’s temporary email address. At the end of the week they’d both change to a different one.

He rose and paced again. He had to calm down. Sam would call soon, and he needed to focus on her.

He should be bugging out right now. The chance of causing her more trouble was almost guaranteed. But he couldn’t leave her unprotected, either.

What was it about her that drew him? He thought about the look on her face after he’d kissed her. How breathless and amazed she’d been, from a simple kiss.

That look was what it boiled down to?

She was more than just a hookup.

She was what he’d been searching for his whole life.