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Guarding the Single Mother: SEAL Endgame Book One Page 3
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Page 3
Finally, something they could both agree on.
“Yes. Absolutely,” she said, nodding a tad too vigorously due to her guilt over checking out his ass. “I’m all about safety these days.”
Clint glanced back at her over his shoulder and that weird connection sizzled between them once more, the same one that had made her knees tingle and her breath hitch back at the shooting range when he’d been so close to her, his breath hot against her ear, his firm front pressed against her back, making her think all sorts of wicked thoughts…
“Mama!” Thomas shouted, stretching out his pudgy little arms toward her, jarring her from her erotic fantasies. He held out his drool-soaked buffalo to her and she smiled at Suzie, taking her son from the other woman.
“Thank you for watching him,” Leila said to Suzie. “I’ve got him now.”
“My pleasure,” Suzie said, starting off back toward her tiny shop. “He’s a sweetheart. Let me know if you ever need my help again.”
“Will do.” She waved to the older woman then took a deep breath to get herself back on track. “So, when can we schedule the next lesson? I’d like to get this done as soon as possible.”
“Tomorrow work for you?” Clint asked, popping off her hubcap and setting it aside then grabbing the tire iron to remove the lug nuts. “I’m sure I can squeeze you in at some point.”
She ignored the double-entendre in his statement and brushed the hair from Thomas’s eyes with her fingers. “I have to work in the morning, but I could come in the afternoon before I have to pick Thomas up at day care. Would that be okay?”
“We’ll make it work.” Clint pulled off the slashed tire and set it aside, then slid the spare into place.
It had been so long since she’d been with a man who was kind and gentle she’d almost forgotten what it was like. Not that she knew enough about Clint to know if he was really kind and gentle or if this was just some ploy to get into her good graces and her pants. Either way, it was best she not get close enough to him to find out. She squared her shoulders and adjusted her son in her arms, lifting her chin with determination. She’d take his lessons and learn what she needed to—and then, she would leave him behind. “Fine. Tomorrow it is.”
3
The next morning was not turning out to be any less hectic for Leila than the previous one. She currently fiddling with Thomas’s car seat in the back of the car while talking to her mom on the phone, thanking God for the millionth time that her phone plan included unlimited calls to Puerto Rico.
“Don’t worry about us, Mama,” she said, straightening up the mess of toys and blankets left over after she’d dropped her son off at day care. The spare tire was holding out, thankfully, but she knew she needed to take it in. She could have really done without that extra expense this month, which was probably why Mike had chosen to slash her brand-new tire, the bastard. “Seriously. We’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”
She did her best to sound more confident than she felt.
Still, her mother saw right through the charade. “Don’t pull that with me, chica. That criminal of an ex of yours is nothing to mess around with. For my peace of mind, I wish you and Thomas would move down here with me. There’s room at the condo and we could watch over you. Protect you.”
“I don’t need protection, Mama.” Okay, she did need protection, but there was nothing her middle-aged mother and the set of elderly grandparents Mama cared for back home could do to help with that. If she moved home, Leila would just have to worry about keeping all of them safe, not just her and Thomas. No. Staying in Nevada was the best course of action for all of them. Even though her mother brought the subject up during every conversation they had. “Look, I’m going to get a gun and I’m learning how to shoot. I won’t let anything happen to my son. We’ll be fine, I promise.” She finished fussing with the car seat, then straightened to close the car door and lock the vehicle. “I need to go now, Mama, or I’ll be late for work. Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, chica,” her mother said, her words tearful. “Please be careful.”
“Always.” Leila ended the call and headed into the dental office where she worked as a hygienist. The cool air from the vents near the entrance prickled her skin and she said hello to the receptionist as she passed. Her schedule was full today with patients, then later, with her lesson with Clint. Preoccupied and running behind, she headed around the front desk and toward the hall where her exam station was located, not paying attention to the people in the waiting room.
She’d just walked into her cubicle, walled off on three sides by dividers, when a male voice said from behind her, “Leila.”
Her blood froze and her pulse stumbled. Mike. Her ex was here. A million thoughts whirled through her mind at once. Run. Hide. Fight. Flee. None of those options were feasible in her place of employment, which most likely was why he’d chosen to approach her here, knowing she wouldn’t want to make a scene and risk getting fired.
Mike was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.
Swallowing hard, Leila swiveled to face him. He looked harder than ever after his stint in prison for drug and weapons trafficking. Same angry green eyes, same gang tattoos covering his arms and creeping up his neck from beneath his army-green T-shirt. There was a tightness around his mouth, a hint of the tension that always skimmed right below his surface. His fists were clenched at his sides and a muscle ticked near his tight jaw. He was beyond pissed. Leila knew all the signs. If she wasn’t careful, he’d go off on her right here in the office, risking her life and the lives of all the innocent people around her. Mike was a man who didn’t give a shit about consequences anymore, for himself or anyone else. That made him all the more dangerous.
Leila inhaled slow and repeated the mantra they’d taught her in self-defense—stay cool, stay calm, defuse the situation if you can. She didn’t have much hope that she’d be able to talk him down, but she had to try. “What do you want, Mike?”
“What I want to know is why you waited until I was locked up before you filed for divorce and took my son away from me, you bitch!”
His menacing growl echoed through the quiet office and several of her coworkers peeked around the walls of her cubicle to see what was happening. Leila did her best to give them “stay-away” looks and hoped they would heed them. She inched slowly toward the exit, maintaining eye contact with him. “You knew things weren’t working out between us. I told you I wanted to leave. There was no surprise about that.”
“You belong to me, Leila. You and Thomas.”
“We aren’t property,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from betraying the shaking of her insides. “But then I guess you never understood that. Maybe thinking of me as an inanimate object made it easier for you to beat me.”
“You made me do that. You disobeyed me.” He tracked her movements as she neared the hallway. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for me to have you leave me like that? How much shit I had to put up with from the other inmates? It was humiliating. No one does that to me, Leila. No one.”
“Yeah, I can see how dealing with the consequences of being abusive might be hard for you to deal with,” she said, then instantly regretted it when he stepped closer and snarled. “Let’s take this outside, yeah? This is a place of business.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s the Taj Mahal,” Mike yelled. “I came to get back what’s mine.”
Leila reached the hallway and slowly backed down it, hazarding a glance at the receptionist as she passed.
“Should I call the police?” the receptionist whispered.
“No,” Leila said, continuing to walk backward toward the sliding glass doors at the entrance. She didn’t know how Mike would react to the threat of a parole violation. He might turn violent. If she could get him out in the parking lot, then there was still a chance she could lead him away from the building and talk him down. “I’ve got this. Thanks.”
“You think you’re
so smart, don’t you?” Mike said following her outside and into the baking heat. “You aren’t. You’re just a dumb bitch who doesn’t know how good you got it. Never did appreciate me and all the things I did for you. You never deserved me. Never.”
He made no attempt to keep his voice down now and she clutched her key fob in her hand, her thumb poised over the alarm button in case she needed a fast distraction to get away.
“Let it go, Mike. Let us go. You’re out now. You’re free. You have a second chance to make a new life, a new start. If I’m as worthless as you say I am, don’t waste your time on me.”
“What about Thomas?” he said, glaring a thousand daggers at her.
“What about him?” Leila forced herself to stand her ground. No way would this asshole get his hands on her son. Nope. She’d rather die then let him get to her child. “Leave him alone.”
“Or what?” Mike stepped closer to get right in her face, his breath stinking of alcohol even this early in the day. “What are you going to do to me, Leila?”
She didn’t miss the mocking in his tone or the murderous glint in his eye. He’d kill her this time. There was no doubt in her mind. He’d go back to prison and she’d go into a grave. End of their sad, sordid story.
“Tell me where Thomas is now!” Mike said, grabbing Leila’s arm in a bruising grip. “Tell me!”
The echo of a car door slamming vaguely registered through the pounding of blood in her ears. Footsteps drew closer and she wanted to tell whoever it was to stay away, stay safe, but the words stuck in her throat.
“If I were you, I’d let the lady go,” a deep male voice said. A very familiar voice. Clint.
* * *
He had no idea who the jerk was getting in Leila’s face, nor did he care. His number one priority at the moment was keeping her safe. Clint stepped a bit closer and stared the guy down. “Is there a problem here?”
The man, about the same height as Clint at five-ten and covered with gang tattoos, glared over at him with angry green eyes, his brutish face twisted into a menacing snarl. “Who the fuck are you? Mind your own business.”
It was meant to be intimidating. Would’ve been too, if Clint hadn’t already faced down some of the worst badassess on the planet during his stint as a SEAL. This dude was a weak wannabe compared to some of the scum he’d encountered then. He took a step closer and met his opponent’s gaze direct. “I’m the guy who doesn’t like when jerks like you don’t treat women with respect.”
“Yeah?” The guy swivelled away from Leila and cracked his knuckles. “What the fuck you gonna do about it?”
“Mike, don’t—” Leila started before the jerk shot her a murderous glance.
“Don’t tell me what to do, bitch. You lost that right when you served me with divorce papers.”
Right. Clint put two and two together. This asshole must be her ex. From the looks of him—rough and on-edge, his muscles taut and toned from hours in the gym, and what looked like a raw, fresh tat of a black tear drop under his left eye—Clint would guess he’d been recently released from prison. That certainly would explain Leila’s nervousness and abrupt need for a weapon.
He took another step, one that firmly put him between Leila and her behemoth of an ex-husband. “How about you tone down the profanity and we discuss this like rational adults.”
“How about you get the fuck out of here and keep you nose out of where it don’t belong before I smash it?” Mike growled. “You sleeping with her or what?”
“Why? Afraid she’ll see what a real man is like?” Clint couldn’t help baiting this idiot. After seeing how frightened Leila was and picturing her cute kid in her arms, he suddenly felt the urge to pummel this guy’s face into the dirt. He wasn’t a violent guy by nature, but the thought of this jerk hurting Leila or Thomas brought it out in him.
“I will kill you,” Mike bared his teeth and got nose to nose with Clint. “Nobody insults me and gets away with it.”
“Yeah?” Clint didn’t back down an inch, despite Leila trying to grab his arm from behind him and pull him away. “Want to take me on? Any time, any place. I’ve taken down people way worse than you before breakfast, bud. It’ll be a pleasure to knock you to your knees.”
He’d wanted to say more, but a police car drove by, giving a quick beep of the sirens in warning. Apparently, someone had reported them. Good. Much as Clint wanted to take his asshole down a peg, he didn’t fancy a trip to the local jail for brawling, either.
The squad car pulled up near them and the officer’s tinted window lowered. “Problem here, ma’am?”
Leila’s gaze flickered between Clint and her ex before meeting the cop’s. “No officer. Thank you. My ex-husband was just leaving.”
Mike all but bristled with testosterone and rage and the cop stared him down a moment before the infuriated man finally stepped back. “Fine. I’m outta here. But it isn’t over, Leila. Not by a long shot.”
Clint maintained his position until Mike peeled out of the parking lot in a used rust-bucket of a car, then turned back to Leila. “You okay?”
She nodded, visibly still shaken, though some of the colour was returning to her cheeks.
“Thanks, Rodney,” Clint said to the cop. The officer was a frequent visitor to his gun range. “I owe you one.”
“No problem,” Rodney said. “Watch yourself with that guy. He looks like he’s got a chip on his shoulder a mile wide.”
“Will do,” Clint said. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”
After a tip of his hat, the squad car pulled away, leaving him and Leila alone.
“So, you were married to that guy?” Clint finally asked after several long seconds. Leila was avoiding his gaze, her shaking hands twisting the hem of her pink pastel scrub shirt. He wanted to sit her down somewhere before she collapsed. He gazed around the parking lot but didn’t see any benches nearby. “I’m assuming this is the dental clinic where you work. Want to go inside and talk about it?”
“No.” She shook her head, staring into the distance toward the direction Mike had taken. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” She sighed and finally met his gaze. “Thanks for helping me out with him, but I’ve got this.”
Clint crossed his arms and gave her an assessing stare. She clearly did not have this situation in control at all, but he didn’t want to force her into accepting his help either. Honestly, he wasn’t sure his getting involved in all this was a wise move on his part either. One of the first lessons he learned in foster care was not to get attached to people who were living in crisis mode. They could hurt you in so many ways—by leaving at a moment’s notice, by pushing you away…or worst of all, by clinging tight while the danger lasted and then letting go just as soon as it passed. He didn’t blame them for doing whatever it took to protect themselves. He just didn’t want to get caught in the fallout again. Still, she clearly needed protection, even if she was too stubborn or scared to admit it. His honour wouldn’t let him walk away. Not until he knew she and Thomas would be safe.
A slow, non-threatening approach seemed the best option. “Given the time of morning, I’m guessing you were on your way into work. You still feel okay to do that?”
“Yes. I don’t have a choice. I need the money.”
“Okay. Fair enough. Your son with a sitter?” She nodded but didn’t offer up a location. “Is he somewhere secure?”
Leila nodded again, looking over at the entrance to the dental clinic, where the receptionist was lingering near the door, clearly waiting for Leila. “Believe me, I checked them out thoroughly. They know not to let anyone in to see Thomas except me and to call me if anyone else show up. He’s safe there.”
“Good.” Clint stepped back and forced a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Best get to work then. If you don’t mind telling me, what time are you done today?”
She hesitated, then lowered her head, her shoulders slumping. “Five. Why?”
&n
bsp; “If you don’t have any objections, I’ll come back then and escort you to the range for your lesson this evening, just to make sure Mike the idiot doesn’t show up again and cause trouble.”
He gauged her reaction to his offer, watching as she seemed to come to some decision within herself. She took a deep breath and exhaled slow then raised her head. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
4
At four forty-five that afternoon, Clint pulled his pick-up into the lot of Spectacular Smiles Dental Clinic, parking behind Leila’s. He’d spent the day at his shop, working off some of his adrenaline and frustrations on the gun range, before heading back here. He’d brought his firearm with him, in the glove compartment, just in case.
Clint cut the engine and got out, locking the door of his truck then walking up to Leila’s car to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with. His heart stuttered when he saw the damage. Her spare tire was still intact, thank goodness. But it looked like her vindictive ex had returned at some point during the day to smash her headlights and scratch the words “You can’t hide from me forever bitch” into the side door with either a key or a knife blade. The passenger side window was smashed in as well and the glove box hung open, empty.
Shit.
Blood pounding in his ears, he crouched down to snap a few pictures of the damage with his phone, thinking he’d text them to Rodney and have him look into it. Should probably call the cops too, even if all they’d do was write a report. Since it wasn’t his vehicle thought, he’d leave that up to Leila to handle. He’d just sent the pics off to Rodney when she arrived.
“Hey, what are you—” she stopped suddenly and cursed under her breath at the sight of the damage to her car. “Crap. I knew I should’ve pulled it behind the building during my lunch hour. Mike lashes out when he’s pissed.”
Clint straightened and proceeded with caution. “Did he ever lash out at you? Or Thomas?”