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  Ma turns her head, eyes wide, face tight. “Call the police,” she whispers.

  I keep my gaze trained on the man in the distance, leaning against the hood of his pickup as he watches us. “We are the law around here. Now, go. Listen to Tamara.”

  Ma blinks, processing my words, but her feet are still glued to the bit of cinder she’s standing on. “I can talk him down.”

  “Like you did all the times he beat you?” I say, not thinking about how my words will impact her.

  She flinches, feeling and hearing what I just said. “I’m going. Don’t…”

  I hold up a hand. “Just get in the fucking car and go!”

  Finally, her feet come unstuck, and she folds her body back into Tam’s car, as does Tamara. Morris and I glare straight ahead, keeping our eyes fixed on the guy as Tam turns the car around in the grass and leaves us in a cloud of dust.

  “Ready for this?” Morris asks, coming to stand next to me.

  “Never been more ready,” I snarl.

  Morris and I move forward, taking in the unarmed man with nothing more than his cast as protection.

  If he’s carrying, it’s not visible. If he has a gun, I’m not sure how he’d shoot if he’s right-handed since my ma decided to decimate his arm into a million little pieces, leaving him casted from wrist to shoulder.

  “Where’d the bitch go?” he asks, pulling a toothpick from between his lips with his one good hand.

  He’s exactly my mother’s type. Tall and lanky, hair cropped short like he wasn’t able to let go of the style after leaving the military, clean-shaven, and wearing camo.

  “The bitch?” Morris growls, cracking his knuckles as he walks next to me. “I know you didn’t just call her a bitch.”

  The man smiles. “She’s a woman, yeah? Therefore, she’s a bitch. A traitorous bitch, at that. She busted up my arm and needs to pay. She’s my woman. My bitch. This ain’t no business of yours.” His eyes swing to me. “Or yours.”

  I let out a bitter laugh. “My ma is my business. She’s not your business. You had your time with her. You did her wrong and she did you right, but she made one mistake.”

  “Ah. Josiah,” he whispers, eyes squinting as he studies me, tossing the used toothpick to the ground. “Should’ve known she’d run to you without having to look at the GPS.”

  I draw my eyebrows inward, confused.

  “Can’t take a man’s car with GPS on board and stay gone for long.”

  Fuck. Technology is sometimes a blessing, but other times…dangerous as hell. I didn’t even think to ask her about her car or the possibility she could be tracked by the asshole. I was too worried about the cops showing up at the compound. I didn’t think a man who would beat a woman would have the balls to show up here.

  My fingers curl closed as I stalk toward the man, ready to wipe the smug grin off his face. Morris is right next to me, keeping step with me, just as ready to beat his ass.

  “We puttin’ him in the ground?” Morris asks quietly as we advance.

  “Nah, man. Break his other arm,” I mutter, knowing there’re other ways to make a man pay.

  The dick takes a step forward, putting his hands up, like that’s going to save him. “I’m unarmed.”

  “And?” I growl.

  He scurries toward the driver’s door, reaching for the handle as Morris and I run up behind him. I grab him by the collar, hauling his ass backward.

  “You shouldn’t have come here, and now you’re going to pay,” I tell him, turning him around before throwing him back into the truck.

  He flinches and cowers. “Please,” he begs.

  “Let me do this,” Morris tells me, touching my shoulder as I reach back, ready to punch the guy. “I really want to do this.”

  “I’m going to teach him what it feels like to get punched in the face.”

  Morris backs away, throwing up his hands.

  “Please, let me go. I won’t say anything,” the asshole pleads, holding his good hand up in front of his face like that’s somehow going to protect him. “Please.”

  “Did my mother beg you for mercy when you hit her?” I snarl, and before he has a chance to answer, I throw the first punch, feeling the crunch of his bones against my knuckles.

  * * *

  “Now what?” Tamara asks, placing ice on my knuckles, insisting I need to do this, but I’ve never done it before. She’s like a mother hen sometimes. No one has looked after me the way she does since I was a little kid. “What is Jessica supposed to do?”

  “We’re going to take her to your place and talk with James and Thomas.”

  “We’re going to take her?” She raises an eyebrow, staring at me and no longer making faces at my bloodied hands.

  I nod, wincing as she presses harder than necessary because she’s too busy gawking at me. “I need to talk to them myself. I have to get her name cleared so she’s not on the run forever.”

  “I can talk to them.”

  “Do you not want me to come?”

  “Of course I want you to come, but don’t you have to pack your things?”

  “I threw the important shit in a duffel, and the rest the guys can pick over.”

  Eagle stalks into the clubhouse, running his fingers back and forth against his hair. “This is some bullshit. You should’ve put that man in the ground.”

  The guys are pissed. They wanted blood. They craved retribution for a woman they barely knew, because she gave birth to me. Although I want the man dead, now isn’t the time. With a warrant out for my mother, and the electronic tracks he no doubt left, if he went missing and anyone realized it, all roads would lead back to her or us.

  “He has two broken arms now. It’s not enough punishment, but it’s a start,” I tell him as Morris walks in behind Eagle, whistling a cheerful, awkward tune. “What’d you do?”

  “Me?” Morris presses his hand to his chest, looking innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why are you so happy?” I ask, lifting Tamara’s hand away from mine, giving her a small wink.

  “Called a buddy of mine at the sheriff’s. He picked up the asshole and was just going to hold him for twenty-four hours, but…” Morris laughs.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Dipshit has a warrant.”

  A smile immediately covers my face. “Nice,” I mutter.

  “It’s a doozy too. He is going to be locked up for a long, long time.”

  “Huh.” I laugh too, picturing him with two broken arms, trying not to become someone’s bitch. “Didn’t see that coming.”

  Morris fishes four beers out of the fridge, placing one each in front of Tamara, Eagle, and me, and keeping one for himself. “He had an attempted murder charge hanging over his head from Florida. He won’t get any bail because he’s a runner, and if we’re lucky, he’ll get the longest sentence allowable. Jessica shouldn’t have to worry about him anytime soon.”

  I tip my bottle to him. “Nice work.”

  “Well, it’s a damn good thing we didn’t kill him,” Eagle adds, which gets Tamara’s attention and has her head turning so damn fast.

  “Would you have?” she whispers against the rim of her beer.

  “Never,” he tells her, glancing at me for only a second. “We’d never do anything like that, doll. We’re civilized human beings.”

  Tamara lets out a nervous laugh. “Of course,” she whispers and keeps her eyes on Eagle as she tips the bottle back, chugging the cold beer.

  “Jessica,” Morris announces as soon as my mom walks into the main room from the hallway. “We’re celebrating.”

  “Celebrating?” she asks, slowing her steps, peering around at the four of us.

  “Yeah, sugar,” Morris answers before I have a chance to, always inserting himself when my mother is involved. “Come have a drink.”

  I curl my empty hand, and Tamara touches my arm with her cold fingers. “Stop overreacting. He’s not hitting on her.”

  “You sure?” I
ask, raising an eyebrow, knowing Morris just as well as I know myself.

  Ma slides onto a stool next to me and stares at Morris, blinking. “What happened? Did you…”

  He shakes his head as he grabs another beer from under the bar. “Called the sheriff. The guy has a warrant. He won’t be a problem for you.”

  Her eyes widen. “He won’t?”

  “Nope,” Morris clips out, placing the bottle in front of her with a thud. “He’s going to be someone’s bitch for a long time. So, drink up, relax, and breathe a little.”

  Ma blots at her eyes as they tear up. “I need a minute,” she says, before bolting from her stool toward the bedrooms.

  “Dude,” I say when she’s out of earshot. I need him to know and set him straight. What he’s been doing is not okay with me. “Why are you always hitting on my mom?”

  Morris sets down his beer and leans forward, bringing his face close to mine. “I’m not hitting on her, Mammoth. Why the hell would you think that?”

  Eagle shrugs next to him. “Sure as fuck feels like it.”

  “Jessica is your mom, yeah?” Morris asks me.

  I nod.

  “She’s not a bitch or trash, right?”

  I nod again.

  “She came here in distress. Am I correct?”

  I nod for the third time.

  “Your woman is here too, so your hands are already full.” He raises an eyebrow, turning his gaze toward Tamara. “Am I wrong?”

  “No,” I reply.

  “I was just being nice. She’s your mom. She’s a woman in need who just went through a trauma. A woman doesn’t do what she did without having some darkness in her. I wanted to give her something light. A little piece of sweetness she hasn’t felt in a long time.”

  I sit here, staring at him in silence, taking in what he just said.

  “Did I ever tell you about my mother?”

  I shake my head as everyone else sits quietly, listening as closely as I am, but probably holding their breath. Tamara and Eagle both knew how I felt about the way Morris has been flirting with my mother. They knew there would be a moment when I’d finally had enough and would question him. The time is now, but instead of hearing what I thought, Morris is going to share about his personal life. About his past. Something he doesn’t do often.

  “My father was a miserable bastard. He took all that misery out on me every single day of my life. I was too little to do anything about it for years, but then, I grew the fuck up and I manned up. I learned how to get his attention and divert all his anger toward me instead of her. I took every punch, kick, or slap she would’ve for the last five years of her life.” He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, he stares at the bottle in front of him instead of me. “I was twelve when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. The woman never knew a day’s peace. She never knew happiness. She never knew she was being loved wrong. The only thing that saved her from my miserable bastard of a father was death.”

  “I’m sorry, brother,” I say, my voice tight and thick. “She didn’t deserve that.”

  “She was the best of the best.” He tips his head toward the hallway where Ma had disappeared. “Just like your mom. All sweet without an ounce of bad in her. I couldn’t give peace to my mom, but I could make sure yours got it,” he sighs, running his hand down his face. “I was just being nice, man. A woman like her needs someone to be nice, especially a man, so she doesn’t forget we’re not all like that jagoff who felt it was right and necessary to lay his hands on her. She needs to know she’s worth more. Flirting? Nah, brother. I was just being thoughtful.”

  “Got it,” I whisper, feeling like a fool.

  Tamara elbows me in the ribs. “See, you big dummy?”

  “Also, she’s not my type, and even if she were, she’s your mom, man. How much of an asshole do you think I am?”

  “A pretty fuckin’ big one,” I tell him, laughing as I lift the beer to my lips again.

  “She’s welcome here anytime, but I don’t think it’s her type of place. Just make sure she finds that happy. Even if my mom never found hers, it would be nice to know someone else’s did.”

  “I’ll make sure she finds it,” I tell him, and I mean every damn word.

  14

  Tamara

  “This isn’t how I wanted our first in-person meeting to go,” Jessica tells me, sitting on my couch, shoulders slumped forward. “I wanted our first time seeing each other to be happy and fun.”

  “Well—” I scoot forward in my chair, resting my arms against my legs, exhausted “—today has been interesting, but don’t feel bad about anything. Maybe when everything is all said and done, we can get a do-over.”

  “A do-over?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed and the small wrinkles near her eyes deepening.

  “Yeah. We’ll pretend this never happened. It’s not a big deal.”

  I’ve done things where all I wanted was a do-over, and I’ll be more than happy to give one to Jessica. She didn’t do anything many women I know wouldn’t do in her shoes. Everyone has a breaking point, and once she reached hers, she took matters into her own hands. I have to give the woman mad props for that.

  “I wish it were that easy,” she whispers.

  “Everything will be fine. My uncles will be here in a few minutes, and we’ll get everything sorted out.”

  She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head back and forth. “I can’t believe this is how I’m meeting your family. How embarrassing.”

  I move across my small living room and take a seat next to her, sliding my arm across her shoulders. “Ma,” I say, calling her the name she asked me to, but it sounds so foreign, I pause for a second. Her hands fall away from her face as she turns to me. “My uncles have dealt with stuff like this before. They’re good guys. They’re also guys who don’t put up with men who place their hands on a woman. They won’t judge you for what you did. They would’ve been there to help just like your son if they knew. You need to stop apologizing or worrying about what anyone else thinks of you. You protected yourself. You got away. There’re plenty of women who cared too much about what others thought and aren’t breathing anymore because of it. This is a no-judgment family when it comes to self-defense and doing what’s right, and there’s no doubt, you did what was right.”

  She curls over, hugging her knees. “The right thing to do would’ve been to call the cops.”

  I laugh. “He was a cop, and he’s on the city council. They definitely would’ve taken his side and not yours, unless you called them as soon as he hit you with the evidence written all over your face.”

  “I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”

  “No one ever does.” I rub her back, feeling the need to soothe her any way I can. “Society sometimes makes us feel like somehow we’re to blame when we’re the victims. When my uncles get here, you’ll understand and feel better.”

  “I’m not sure I can ever feel better about what I did. I should’ve turned myself in and paid the price for my actions.”

  “And would he have paid the price for what he did to you?” I ask, shifting and tucking my leg under my body to face her. “He didn’t look too bothered by the fact that he’d hit you or that you’d hit him, when he was outside the compound earlier.”

  The front door swings open, and Mammoth walks in, followed by Uncle Thomas and Uncle James. They look like a troublemaking trio ready to do some damage.

  Mammoth’s gaze swings from his mother to me, and I shrug with a grimace. I did my best to make her feel better after she cried most of the drive here once we left the compound.

  “Ma,” Mammoth says, kneeling in front of his mother and placing her hands in his. “These are Tamara’s uncles.”

  Jessica lifts her head, wiping her face near her eyes as she peers toward the door, soaking in the two giant men standing near the doorway. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says with a forced smile. “I’m so sorry you were dragged into this.”

  My uncles sta
lk into the living room, making the small space feel even smaller. Thomas takes a seat in the chair I just vacated, and James sits down on the coffee table in front of me.

  He gives me a wink, and I smile, always loving my uncles and their crazy, badass vibes. There isn’t a man in my family who isn’t insanely protective, and I am blessed to have been born into this group instead of another. “Ms. Saint,” James says, speaking softly and carefully. “I’m James Caldo, and behind me is my partner and brother-in-law, Thomas Gallo. We’re Tamara’s uncles. We’re going to get you out of this.”

  She blinks, gawking at the two men, possibly intimidated by their size and the severity of their faces. They always look pissed off, especially when it comes to how women are treated, when they’re in work mode. “Maybe I should turn myself in,” she says for the hundredth time since she landed at the compound.

  Mammoth squeezes her hands. “You will not,” he tells her.

  “No, ma’am,” James adds. “There’s no need to do that. In a small town such as yours, you wouldn’t get a fair trial anyway. Thomas and I have no doubt we can get the charges dropped and have your name cleared pretty damn fast. We just need you to lay low, hold tight, and not do anything crazy like hand yourself over to the authorities.”

  Jessica takes one of her hands out of Mammoth’s grip and reaches for the zipper of her purse. “Please let me pay you for your trouble.”

  Uncle James reaches out, placing his hand on her arm. “No, ma’am. We don’t charge family, and even if you weren’t family, we’d never let something like money get in the way of doing what’s right, especially when it comes to domestic abuse.”

  Tears begin to stream down Jessica’s face as she stares at my uncle, easing back into an upright position. “You’re too kind,” she whispers.

  “Your son has filled us in on everything, and we already have our team assembling the necessary players. We need twenty-four to forty-eight hours to get this behind you, but we will, in fact, have you cleared.”

  I can’t keep the stupid smile from my face. How did I get so lucky? Not only do I have two amazing and loving parents, but I am also fortunate enough to be surrounded by these men as uncles and even better women who taught me my self-worth and how to take care of myself from an early age.