The Good Girl's Second Chance (The Bravos Of Justice Creek 2) (17 page)

She considered trying *69. But what for? Whoever was on the other end, she didn’t want to talk to them.

Enough. She made herself a promise to banish her jerk of an ex-husband from her mind for the rest of the day.

And she kept that promise.

Until she got home from dinner at Quinn’s and found two more hang-up calls on her phone. When she went ahead and tried to call back, she learned that both calls were from blocked numbers. That thoroughly creeped her out. Though she had no proof of who had made the calls, she added them to her TD file and tried not to stew over them.

Then Quinn showed up.

Of course, he knew right away that something had happened. “What?” he said when he was barely in the door. “Just tell me.”

So she told him about the hang up calls.

His expression grew even bleaker. “You put it in the file?”

“I did, yes. I noted the date and the times that the calls came in and that whoever made them did it from a blocked number. In case it somehow turns out to matter in some way.”

“We need to talk about you trying for that order of protection.”

She went over, dropped to the sofa and put her head in her hands. “Can we just...not? Please?” She looked up. He was standing over her, eyes stormy with equal parts anger and concern. She got up. “He’s running our lives, Quinn. We can’t let him do that.”

He clasped her shoulders in his big hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking about...?” She tipped her face back enough to look at him—and then she lifted enough to touch his lips with hers.

He made that low, lovely growling sound in his throat and settled his mouth more firmly on hers. They shared a slow, delicious kiss. He gathered her in. She slid her hands up over his chest and linked them behind his neck.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” she said softly, when he finally lifted his head.

“Vegas.” He bent and kissed the word onto her upturned mouth. And then, soft as a breath, back and forth, he brushed his lips against hers and whispered, “This weekend. We’ll fly to Vegas and get married.”

“Married?” She jerked back so that their lips no longer touched. “Quinn, we’ve talked about that.”

He scowled. “I know that tone of voice. Here come all the damn objections.”

“I meant what I said before. I just need a little more time, that’s all.”

“Uh-uh. You need to be my wife and live with me and Annabelle and Manny. I don’t want you living alone here. Not anymore.”

“I’m perfectly safe. You’re here half the time and a lot of the time I’m at your house. And what about Annabelle? I don’t want to put her in danger, I really don’t.”

“So you do admit you’re in danger.”

Sometimes the man was too quick by half. “No, no, of course I’m not in danger.”

“Listen to yourself, angel. You’re ‘perfectly safe,’ but you’re afraid that if you move in with us, you’ll put my little girl in danger. You’re all over the map about this.”

“No, that’s not so. I really don’t think anything is going to happen. But if something did, I couldn’t stand it if Annabelle ended up in the middle of it.”

He took her by the shoulders—carefully, but firmly, too. “A few minutes ago, you said that we couldn’t let that guy run our lives.”

“And I meant it!”

“Then stop.”

She searched his face, not following. “Stop...?”

“You’re letting him keep you from living your life. You’re putting everything on hold for him.”

“No.”

“Yeah, Chloe. Yeah, you are. How long you gonna do that to yourself, huh? How long you gonna do that to
us
?”

She stared up at him, her heart like a stone, so heavy in her chest. She knew he was right.

And yet she just couldn’t do it. Not now. She could not say her love out loud. And she couldn’t agree to get married. Not right now. Not until she’d somehow dealt with the problem that was Ted.

* * *

Quinn didn’t know what to do about Chloe.

She tied his hands at every turn. She wouldn’t let him make a move on her ex. She wouldn’t marry him and live with him in his house where he could better protect her. She wouldn’t let him hire someone to watch over her. She wouldn’t let his half brother James check into slapping good old Ted with an order of protection.

She had dark circles under her ice-blue eyes and much of the time she seemed distant and distracted. He only had her full attention when he took her to bed.

Something had to give.

And it had damn well better give soon. She seemed so fragile to him lately and he feared some kind of...breakage. He feared the destruction of what they had together—no, worse. He feared the ruin of her tender heart, her strength, her spirit.

That night, he held her as she slept and wondered what the hell to do.

* * *

When Chloe woke in the morning, Quinn was still there. Already dressed in the jeans and knit shirt he’d worn the night before, he sat in the bedside chair, just looking at her.

She pushed up on an elbow and raked her sleep-tangled hair back off her forehead. “Shouldn’t you be having breakfast with Annabelle?”

He rose. “I’m going now. I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

She saw the shadows in his eyes and felt remorse drag at her—for giving him nothing but trouble lately, for being a source of constant concern. “I’m perfectly safe here. All the locks are sturdy and the alarm system is state-of-the-art. And I promise to keep the system armed when you’re not here and to stay alert whenever I’m outside on my own.”

He bent close, brushed a kiss on her forehead and said mildly, “I just wanted to wait until you were awake.”

She started to accuse him of lying. He’d stayed to watch over her and they both knew that.

But she came to her senses before she could light into him. He only wanted to take care of her. Had she sunk to snapping at him for trying to keep her safe?

She ended up asking sheepishly, “Give Annabelle a kiss for me?”

He promised that he would and then he was gone.

Wearily, she got up and went about the beginnings of another day.

At a little after eight, as she was eating breakfast, the phone rang. She let out a cry at the sound and splashed hot coffee across the back of her hand. Wanting to slap her own face for being such a nervous twit, she mopped up the spill with a paper napkin and picked up the phone.

It was only Tai calling in sick. “It’s just a cold,” she said. “I’m thinking if I take it easy today, I’ll be ready to go again by tomorrow.” Chloe told her to get plenty of rest and drink lots of liquids, and Tai laughed and said, “Yes, Dr. Winchester. I’ll take good care of myself.”

Chloe left the house at eight-thirty, arming the alarm and locking things up tight. She kept her eyes open and her head up as she crossed the breezeway to the garage. She was careful in the garage, standing in the open doorway to the breezeway, pushing the button on the wall that sent the main door rattling up and then having a quick look around the space before shutting and relocking the breezeway door behind her. Locking herself in the car, she backed from the garage and then sat there until the door was all the way down, just to be certain Ted didn’t dart in there when she wasn’t looking, to lie in wait for her later.

At Your Way, she exercised the same watchfulness, scanning the little lot behind the building for any lurkers before she got out of the car. And then getting out quickly, locking the doors and hustling toward the back entrance, her right hand in a fist and her keys poking out between her fingers, a makeshift weapon ready to gouge a few nasty holes in anybody foolish enough to jump her.

She didn’t fiddle or linger, but quickly unlocked the back door, disarmed the alarm and locked the door behind her. Then she went through the rooms—the office, the restroom, the studio in back and the showroom in front.

Ted was not waiting there. Everything was right where she’d left it the evening before.

And did she feel foolish and overcautious and strangely let down?

Yes, a little bit. But she’d kept her word to Quinn, kept her head up and all her senses on alert, just as they’d taught her in self-defense class, all the way from her front door to the showroom.

Truthfully being vigilant was nerve-racking. And her nerves lately had been racked quite enough, thank you.

She spruced up the showroom and got the coffee going. At nine, she unlocked the front door and turned the sign around. Then she went behind the register counter and called Nell over at Bravo Construction to say she was stuck at the store until closing time but would stop by the remodeling site on the way home.

Nell was her usual bold, funny self. One of the new guys on the crew had asked her to dinner. “Big muscles,” Nell said, “gorgeous ink. Too bad the brain is practically nonexistent. I like a big brain. It matters to me.”

“So he’s only a piece of tasty meat and you’re not going out with him?”

“Tasty meat.” Nell groaned. “I said that, didn’t I, when I was busting your chops about Quinn?”

“You most definitely did.”

Call-ump. Call-ump
. Chloe recognized the sound of Nell’s boots landing on her scarred desktop. Nell said, “So you think I’m objectifying this guy?”

“Well, maybe just a little.”

“You know, he
is
really sweet. Is it his fault he’s no Einstein? Dumb guys need love, too. And he’s so pretty to look at.”

Chloe thought of Quinn, who was not only wonderful to look at with a heart of pure gold, he was brilliant, as well. She felt an ache down inside her, just thinking of him. Because she loved him so, because she kept pushing him away when she knew she ought to be grabbing him closer, holding on tight, promising never, ever, to let him go.

She reminded Nell, “People used to think Quinn was slow, remember? And you
can
be pretty intimidating.”

“Me? You’re kidding.”

“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Nellie.”

“Keep talkin’. I’m startin’ to like where this is going.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe the guy is shy?”

“Oh, and I freak him out because I’m so awesome?”

“Nell, you are a giant bowl of awesome—with extra whipped cream and cherries on top. So yeah, it’s more than possible he’s intimidated by you.”

“A giant bowl of awesome. I like the sound of that a lot. And so you’re saying I should give this guy a chance?”

“Yeah. I think you should. He might turn out to be smarter than you think.”

Nell said she’d give it more thought. And then, out of nowhere, she asked, “Baby, are you okay?”

Chloe’s throat instantly clutched and tears burned behind her eyes. “Ahem.” She turned around and faced the hallway to the back door. Swiping at her eyes, she spoke more softly. “Fine. I’m fine.”

“Stop lyin’ to me, Chloe. It’s so not working.”

Chloe gulped down a fresh spurt of tears. “Really, I don’t even know where to start...”

“Is it Quinn? If he’s causing you grief—”

Chloe let out a laugh that caught on a sob. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the one who asked me if I was slumming with your brother and promised to hurt me if I wasn’t good to him?”

“That was before I knew you. I was wrong, all wrong. You and Quinn are a great match, a true love match. And I love you both.”

Chloe’s throat clutched all over again. “Oh, Nellie. Thank you.”

“No need for thanks. We’re family.”

“And that makes me so glad.”

“But the problem is...?”

“Well, I can say this much. Quinn is
not
the problem. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I love him so much and somehow I don’t know how to tell him so. Things are scary right now and—”

“Scary, how?”

“Long story. I’ll only say that sometimes I think I’m just too damaged, you know? I think that there’s really something very wrong with me and I’m afraid that’s never going to change.”

“Not a damn thing is wrong with you. And we need some sister time.”

Chloe started to object. But then she realized she
did
want some sister time with Nell. “You know, that sounds really good.”

“Instead of the remodel, let’s meet at McKellan’s. Best cosmos in Colorado.” The entry chime sounded. Chloe swiped at her cheeks again and tried to compose herself before turning to greet her first customer of the day. Nell said, “Five-fifteen. Be there. Call Quinn and tell him that there will be drinking and he might have to pick us up later.”

“I will. See you. McKellan’s. Five-fifteen.” Chloe sniffed and smoothed her hair. Then she turned around and carefully set the receiver in its cradle.

When she finally glanced up with a bright smile for whoever had come in, Ted was standing not twenty feet away in front of the showroom door.

Chapter Fourteen

C
hloe’s heart beat a sick rhythm under her ribs and her throat felt like some invisible hand was squeezing it tight.

She’d done it to herself. It was all her own fault. She’d let down her guard. She’d turned around and forgotten all about how she needed to keep her head up and her eyes front.

She’d let her concentration slip to cry on Nellie’s shoulder—and her nightmare had found her.

Somehow he’d not only slipped in the door when she was talking to Nell, but he’d whipped the open sign around, too. It was just a regular glass door with a knob lock you could turn from the inside.

She had zero doubt he’d locked it, as well.

Her nightmare had not only found her, he’d locked himself in her showroom with her.

Beautifully turned out as always in a perfectly tailored designer suit and a Seven Fold Robert Talbott tie, not a single dark blond hair out of place, he gave her a slow, charming smile. And then he said in that smooth, cool voice that had slowly turned all her dreams into nightmares, “Hello, Chloe.”

Her purse was under the counter. She needed to reach in there and pull out the Mace. Carefully, trying not to move the upper part of her body and give herself away, she felt for the purse, found it...

Oh, God, she’d zipped it shut. He would know if she tried to get it open now.

Run!
She needed to get the hell out of there. She started to whirl for the back door.

Ted said, so very mildly, “Please don’t do that.”

And her mind went to mush as her legs started shaking. She was rooted to the spot.

It was pitiful, really. Such a sad case, she was. He had trained her so well over all those awful, endless years with him. He only had to look at her, only had to speak to her in that smooth, mild voice of his and she couldn’t fall all over herself fast enough to do whatever he demanded of her.

She had dared, in the past year, to believe herself free of him—well, except for the nightmares. She had
made
herself free of him. She’d divorced him and moved on, found Quinn.
Her
Quinn, so fine and true, everything she’d always wanted—only better. Only
more
...

She shut her eyes. No. She couldn’t think of Quinn now. She needed to focus, needed to remember her self-defense training, to start acting like the independent, self-possessed, self-directed woman she actually was.

And yet, somehow, she stood there, just
stood
there, and did nothing as Ted came for her.

With his fine Italian shoes light and quick on the showroom’s wood floor, he walked right up to the counter, stepped around it, and wrapped his perfectly manicured hand around her upper arm. “You’re beautiful, my darling, as always. But you look tired.”

The faint smell of the signature cologne he always had specially made just for him came to her. She knew she would gag on that smell. But she swallowed, hard, and glanced down at his fingers encircling her arm. “Where’s your wedding ring, Ted?”

He actually chuckled. “Larissa and I are through.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“No, you’re not. You knew all along she wouldn’t last. A diversion, that’s all she was supposed to be. I work very hard, and you know that I do, to make a fine life for us. I deserve a diversion now and then. But then you left me and I tried to distract myself, tried to convince myself that any beautiful, reasonably intelligent woman would do. I thought I could forget you. I was wrong. You are mine, and you are perfect for me and I’m ready now to give you another chance.”

She simply could not let that pass. “But I’m not yours.”

“Yes, you are.”

“We’re divorced, Ted, in case you’ve forgotten. And the last thing I want is another chance with you.”

His eyes shifted, away—and then back. Other than that, he pretended he hadn’t heard her. “Let’s sit down, shall we?”

“I don’t want to sit down with you. Let go of my arm, Ted. Leave. Now. Please.”

Again, he ignored her. “This way.” He started walking, pulling her with him, into the hallway that led to the back door, pausing at the open arch on the left. “This will do.” He led her into her studio and over to her worktable, where he pulled out a chair and pushed her down in it. Then he grabbed another chair a few feet away and yanked it over next her. He sat down, too. And then he said, “I love you, my darling. And I’ve come to take you home. I know that I hurt you and I swear to you that I will never do that again.” He reached out. She steeled herself not to cringe away as he traced the line of her hair along her cheek and down her neck.

Chloe’s skin crawled. She swallowed bile again and stared at her worktable, taking a strange kind of comfort from the tools she used every day: the stacks of thick fabric sample books, the color wheels, the sketch tablets, the loose swatches of fabric, the scissors, drafting compass, tape measure, shape templates, colored pencils and fine-point pens...

Ted kept on talking. “I called you three times yesterday. You never picked up. And then I thought, well, that’s all right. It’s better that we talk face-to-face anyway. Better that we cut to the chase and you can just come home with me. And it
is
better. It’s wonderful to see you, my darling. And now I just want you to look at me. I want you to tell me the truth, that you’ve missed me and you’re so glad to see me. I want to work this out with you—and yes, I know. My temper has been a problem. But I’ll return to counseling. Everyone needs a little extra help getting things right now and then.”

She tried again. “Ted. I’m in love with my fiancé and I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, Ted, I do.”

“Look at me.” He grabbed her chin in a punishing grip and yanked her head around to face him.

“That’s going to leave a bruise.” She glared at him.

“Darling, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.” She realized she was getting less numb and more angry. Angry was good. At least her knees weren’t shaking anymore.

“You know, Chloe. You really shouldn’t bait me. If you would only treat me with the love and respect I deserve, our lives would go so smoothly, everything just so, moving along without a hitch.”

She shot to her feet.

But before she could dodge around him and make for the door, he grabbed her hand. “Sit
down
.” And he yanked her back into the chair so hard that her teeth clacked together. “What’s this?” He still had her hand. Her left hand.

“It’s my engagement ring. Remember? I’m engaged.” She tried to pull away.

He held on. His face was getting that look, his eyes distant, his skin flushing mottled red. “Take it off.”

“You’ll have to let go for me to do that.”

But he didn’t let go. “Already, you are out of hand. You are pushing me too far. You know that you are.”

“Let go of me, Ted.”

“Don’t you ever try to tell me what to do.”

“Let me go,” she said softly. And then she said it again, a little louder, “Let me go.” And then she couldn’t
stop
saying it, louder and louder, “Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go...”

And right then, as she repeated that same phrase like a mantra, for the seventh time, he drew back his fist and he punched her in the jaw.

Chloe saw stars as blood filled her mouth. It hurt—and more than just the fist to the face. She’d bitten her own tongue, bitten it good and hard.

Everything got very clear then. Crystal clear.

She needed to defend herself and she needed to do it now.

Chloe let out a scream. It was a wild cry, feral. Furious. Ted stared at her, bug-eyed in surprise. His perfect darling Chloe would never let out such an animal sound—a tasteful little whimper, maybe. But a full-out, full-throated scream of rage? No way.

However, she was no longer his perfect Chloe. She belonged to herself now—to herself, and to Quinn. She needed to end all of Ted’s false assumptions and she needed to end them forever and always.

So she reached over, grabbed one of the heavy sample books in both hands, drew it back and whacked that sucker right across the side of his big, fat head. His chair scraped the floor as the sample book connected. He let out a grunt of surprise.

And that was all he got a chance to do.

Because she went kind of crazy. She lifted that sample book and she hit him again. His chair went over and he was on the floor. She jumped on top of him and hit him some more.

By then he was making these ridiculous little whining sounds, his arms drawn up in front of his face. He was calling her name, “Chloe, stop! Chloe, don’t!” as she flailed at him with the sample book.

From out in the showroom came pounding and shouts, followed by the sound of glass shattering. And then, wonder of wonders, Quinn’s voice: “Chloe!”

“Back here!” She climbed off Ted and stood, panting, above him, still holding the sample book threateningly over her head, as Quinn came flying into the room.

“Angel, my God...”

About then, she noticed there was blood all down the front of her white silk shirt. She explained mildly, her tongue already swelling in her mouth, “He hit me and I bit my tongue.”

On the floor, Ted was curled in the fetal position. “Help me,” he groaned. “Get that crazy bitch away from me!”

Quinn said, “This must be Ted.” Chloe dropped the sample book on the table, pressed her suddenly quivering lips together and nodded. He asked, “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, really. It lookth worth than it ith.”

Ted rolled and started to get up.

Quinn said flatly, “Stay on the floor, Ted.”

With a moan, Ted went over on his side and curled up in a ball. He whined, “You people are insane.”

“Just shut up and don’t move.”

Surprisingly, Ted took Quinn’s advice.

Chloe zipped past Ted and got to Quinn. He hooked his big arm around her, pressed his warm lips to her forehead and whispered, “I think he’s got your message now. You did good, angel. Real good.”

She snuggled in close to him. “How did you know to come here?”

“Nell called me. Told me you’d been cryin’ on the phone and I’d better get the hell over here and not leave until all your doubts were dealt with and all your tears were dried.”

“I love Nell.”

“Yeah, well, for once I guess I won’t be pissed at her for sticking her nose in.” He kissed her forehead again. “You’re okay, you’re sure?”

“I am. I really am.”

“Good, then. Go call 911. Use the phone in the showroom.”

It occurred to Chloe that it might not be such a great idea to leave Ted alone with Quinn. “Pleathe don’t hit Ted,” she whispered. “He’th not worth it.”

“I’m not going to hit him. I’m only going to do what I’ve always wanted to do and that is to have a little talk with him.”

“Quinn, I really don’t think—”

“Angel.”

“What?”

“Go on. Make that call.”

* * *

What Quinn said to Ted, only Ted ever knew.

Whatever it was, when Chloe reentered the back studio room after calling the police station, Ted was sitting in the chair again. He had nicks and scratches all over his face, and his right eye was swiftly turning a deep magenta. His tie was askew, his fine suit wrinkled and his hair a mess. He told her quietly that he’d been way out of line and he was very sorry and he would not be bothering her anymore.

She believed him. Now that he knew she would fight him, he wouldn’t get near her again. She really was tempted to leave it at that. Pressing charges could be messy. He’d probably string the process out forever. Who knew what tricks he might try?

But she kind of wondered if he’d ever hit Larissa. And if, for the third time, she just let it go, would he only find another woman to bully and hurt?

So when Riley Grimes showed up, she told him and his partner exactly what had happened. By then, she had a doozey of a bruise swelling at her jaw. The blood down the front of her made its own statement about what Ted had done to her. Her tongue thick and slow and very painful, she told them exactly what had happened and said that yes, she did intend to press charges. So Riley and the other officer took Ted away in handcuffs. They’d called an ambulance for her. Quinn had smashed the glass in the front door, so he got hold of his brother Carter to come over and secure the showroom entrance. Then he went with Chloe in the ambulance to the hospital southeast of town.

At Justice Creek General, they took pictures of her injuries and an X-ray of her jaw. Nothing was broken. Her tongue was a mess. They advised saltwater rinses, ice packs and aloe vera gel. The good news? The bleeding had stopped on its own. The doctor said that if she still had pain in a week, she should see her family practitioner.

Quinn hovered close, and Chloe loved that he did. She knew she was going to be fine now. Yes, her face ached, her tongue throbbed and she was talking with a lisp. But all of that was temporary. Down inside, in her heart and soul, she’d never felt better.

She’d never felt so free.

* * *

Quinn couldn’t wait to get her home to Annabelle and Manny, though he did kind of worry that she might give him grief about it, might demand that he take her to her house.

But no. She just smiled with that beautiful, battered face of hers and said, “Yeth. Take me home to Annabelle and Manny. Thath where I want to be.”

At home, Quinn told Manny what had happened. Manny settled Chloe on the sofa with a mountain of pillows at her back and a light blanket over her knees. He brought her an ice pack and a saltwater rinse for her poor, aching tongue.

When Annabelle came bouncing down the stairs, they told her that Chloe had been hurt and she needed them to take care of her. Annabelle demanded to be allowed to kiss the boo-boo on Chloe’s jaw and make it all better. She insisted that Chloe have her one-eyed teddy bear. “Hug him real hard, Chloe. Then you will feel much better.”

Quinn called Nell to let her know what had gone down. Nell turned right around and called everybody. Within half an hour, family members started arriving. By late afternoon, Chloe had had visits from all of Quinn’s sisters and three of his brothers.