Long Time Coming Page 10

  Not taking any chances, she dashed down the stairs, retrieved her phone from the table near the door where she’d dropped it, her purse, and her keys when she’d come in.

  The sharp rap on the sidelight nearly made her shoot through the roof.

  Willie shrieked as she multitasked. With her right hand, she swiped the screen of her phone, looking for someone to call. Sure, she should have gone for 911. Except, when it came right down to it, she didn’t hesitate to tap the icon representing Tom. No matter what was screwed up between them, he would come when she needed help. It was a gut instinct and she went with it.

  Simultaneously, she grabbed the wooden baseball bat Amber had insisted they keep in case of intruders. Though she didn’t relish the idea of bashing in someone’s skull, she’d do what she had to in order to keep herself safe.

  Her daughters needed her. Ambrose, too. Most of all, so did Tom.

  Maybe now more than ever.

  “Willie? Willie?” Tom’s voice grew louder and more urgent when she didn’t answer him right away.

  Without bringing the phone to her ear, she said, as calmly and quickly as she could manage, “I’m at my house. There’s someone outside. A man. Peeping in the windows and trying to get in.”

  The doorknob rattled and she screamed.

  “Are you okay?” The voice from outside seemed sort of familiar yet sort of not. “Wilhelmina!”

  She dropped the phone. It skittered away, landing under a bench in their cramped entryway.

  Only one person had ever said her name quite like that.

  It couldn’t be.

  “Wilhelmina! Open up. It’s me…Steven.”

  If her head hadn’t already been spinning by that point, a specter trying to invade her house would have done it for sure. She collapsed to her knees, trying to draw a single deep breath when all she could manage were short, fast pants that had her on the verge of blacking out in seconds.

  “Answer me, please.” The man outside pounded. “It sounded like you fell, baby. Tell me you’re okay?”

  She couldn’t, because she wasn’t.

  A loud thump came at the door. The cheap wood flexed in front of her eyes.

  Another crash followed, this time causing splinters to appear around the deadbolt.

  Willie crab-walked backward, the bat forgotten as a third kick busted in her front door.

  It flew open, smashing the mirror behind it.

  As glass rained around her—slicing her arm and maybe her legs too, she couldn’t tell—a man stepped through the wreckage of her home, and her sanity. It couldn’t possibly be him.

  But it was.

  “Wilhelmina!” Steven charged through the debris and skidded beside her on his knees. He bundled her into his arms while she fought him viciously. Punching, kicking, screaming, and generally acting like that wildcat outside when it ran into another kitty poaching on his turf.

  Because if Steven was here then everything she’d ever believed was a lie.

  “Calm down, baby.” He took a few hits to his face, including one pretty good shot from her elbow that started a bright red streak running from his nose. “I can explain everything. Please, let me talk to you.”

  His voice had some roughness to it that she didn’t think came from his distress, but rather from age. So often, she’d imagined what he’d look like if he’d survived that damn car crash. Never had she pictured so many wrinkles and droops in his face, which had already blackened from her impacts.

  He hadn’t aged gracefully, not like Tom.

  Every inch of him seemed worn and slouched, as if he’d carried a heavy burden the past twenty years. Maybe he had.

  “That’s better, baby,” he crooned as her initial terror faded to awe.

  “It’s you,” she rasped. “It’s really you?”

  She turned in his hold, running her fingers along the body she should have known well. He was a stranger to her now. So different from the young man she’d lived with.

  It wasn’t only that he was older. He seemed…weak. Manipulative with a sprinkle of nutty as he smiled down at her like everything was perfect now that they’d been reunited.

  In a flash, she compared him to Tom London and—in every way—found him lacking.

  “It is.”

  “How can this be?” She needed to know that all those years of misery weren’t for nothing.

  Instead of answering, he raked his gaze over her body, from her breasts—pushed up high by the boning of her teddy—to her sexy shoes. Willie wanted nothing more than to cover herself from his appraising stare.

  “Damn, baby. Did you know I was coming? Did that guy Tom tell you already?” Steven leaned in and put his lips on hers.

  Willie wrenched free of his grasp and swung hard, slapping him across his foul, delusional mouth.

  Which was exactly when Tom barreled through the door, a step ahead of his investigator friend, Rick.

  “Get your motherfucking hands off of her.” Tom grabbed Steven by the throat and lifted him from the floor, slamming him against the wall near the broken mirror. “Do you like feeling my knuckles in your face or what, asshole?”

  So it hadn’t been her elbow that had given him that black eye after all.

  She should have known.

  Last night. Tom. The hole in the wall. Every damn thing.

  It suddenly made sense.

  And here she was, dressed like a fool, surrounded by men who’d played her like a pawn in the game of her own life.

  Willie put her hand on the floor and attempted to stand, falling twice before she managed it. Tom dropped Steven, shoving him toward Kaige, Bryce, and Eli, who piled inside, blocking any hope of escape through the wreckage of her door.

  She touched her head, trying to slow the spinning of the room around her.

  Tom was there, wrapping her in his arms.

  But she wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted.

  “You knew?” She hated that the question sounded more like a whimper.

  “Found out yesterday.” He groaned. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I was on my way over here to tell you when you called.”

  That explained how they got there so damn quickly, not that she was complaining.

  “I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else, Wilhelmina,” Steven yelled from where Eli had her husband’s arms pinned behind him, none too gently.

  “You hurt her,” Kaige roared, his legendary temper surfacing without Nola to calm him down. “Haven’t you done that enough already? Now she’s scared and bleeding, too. You should have left this job to someone who actually loves her.”

  “I do love you.” Steven stared at her as he spoke. He wouldn’t shut up despite the hostile welcoming committee surrounding him. “I always have. Everything I did was for you. And the girls.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare mention my wife,” Kaige snarled. “If you’d given a single fuck about her or her sister, you never would have left them to fend for themselves. You deserve to suffer, like they did.”

  “Nova,” Willie called. “Thank you, but it’s okay. I’m okay.”

  Every man in the place, Steven included, threw her a skeptical glance.

  “I will be. Take a walk and cool off, please.”

  “For the record, this will never be okay by me.” Kaige looked at Willie. “This is bullshit. I hope you don’t believe a word out of his lying mouth when we both know what’s best for you.”

  Bryce ushered his garagemate outside. With Eli holding Steven, and Rick keeping guard, he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Plus, there were fewer witnesses to her shame and unraveling this way, which she appreciated. As if he sensed her discomfort, Tom took off his shirt. He held it out to her then helped her thread her arms through it until soft cotton warmed by his skin shielded her from Steven’s view.

  He pressed on the slice across her upper arm to stop the bleeding, using the shirt he’d just given her as a bandage. The world began to come into better focus with him nearby
.

  “That’s it, honey.” He rubbed her back. “Take a deep breath and hold it for me, will you?”

  She did as he asked.

  “Okay, now again.”

  A few more and she was feeling her temporary relief morphing into disgust and anger. Her fists balled at her sides and she took a couple wobbly steps toward Steven.

  Tom put his arm around her waist and steadied her. He didn’t dare try to stop her.

  Rick rocked onto the balls of his feet, ready to spring between Steven and her, or maybe Steven and Tom, if necessary.

  Willie put up her hand, disgusted by the shakiness of her fingers when she traced first the fiery handprint she’d left on Steven’s cheek and then the serious black eye he was sporting.

  “It’s really you?” Every few seconds her mind seemed to reset and she needed to remind herself it was true. Sort of like after he’d died and she kept expecting him to walk through the door anyway.

  “Yes.” He smiled at her as if she’d forgiven him.

  “Then you’d better start explaining pretty fucking quick,” she snapped.

  Beside her, Tom gasped. She never cursed. If only Quinn was there to lecture her about it. She nearly laughed hysterically, on the verge of losing her mind.

  “Okay. Short version. I faked the accident. To protect you. And the girls. I thought you’d get money to run somewhere safe. Nothing seems to have worked out the way I planned, but I’m here now and I want to make it up to you. To them. I’ve missed you every single day of the past twenty-one years, Wilhelmina.”

  This time it was Steven who started sobbing.

  She couldn’t bring herself to care about his misery. He certainly hadn’t weighed hers or their children’s very heavily in his actions.

  “You’re saying you chose to leave us?” She tipped her head to the side, his words not fully computing in her dazed mind.

  “No!” He shook his head violently, flinging tears and snot and blood in the process. “What choice did I have? What else could I have done?”

  “I can think of about fifty options off the top of my head.” Eli jumped in to protect Willie as if he were her own flesh and blood.

  “You’ve got no idea what it’s like to live terrified of finding your family dead,” Steven snapped at Eli.

  “Wrong.” Willie wouldn’t allow her husband, ex-husband, to take a swipe at the young man. “He’s suffered worse. He did lose his mother. Just like I grieved for the man I thought I loved.”

  “I’m right here, Wilhelmina.”

  “No. You were obviously never the man I thought you were.” She looked at Eli, then Rick. “Get him out of my sight.”

  “I made a mistake!” Steven yelled as they dragged him down the stairs then along the cracked sidewalk toward the cars parked haphazardly on the lawn. “I love you, Wilhelmina. I want you back. I’ll be waiting. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “I wish I could slam that door in his face right now,” she bitched to no one in particular.

  Tom’s laugh was strained.

  As soon as Eli and Rick shoved Steven in the car and hauled him away like the garbage he was, it was as if she lost the sheer willpower keeping her upright. She slumped against Tom.

  “Whoa, Willie.” He was there to catch her before she fell, scooping her into his arms. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  “Oh, God. What will the girls think when they find out?” Willie couldn’t handle the thought of the pain she knew she wouldn’t be able to spare her daughters. If it hurt even a fraction of how badly Steven had stabbed her, she knew it would be devastating.

  “One thing at a time, honey. How are you? What do you want me to do?” Tom held her close and rocked her.

  She’d never appreciated his consideration more than right then. Better, he was giving her the ability to control her destiny—unlike Steven, who’d made every important life-changing decision in isolation then left her to live with the consequences.

  “Take me to Hot Rods.”

  “Okay, sure,” he whispered then laid the barest of kisses on her forehead. “Anything you want, Willie. I’ll do it for you.”

  He carried her outside. Bryce and Kaige noticed and held the door to the Rebel as Tom climbed inside, without once letting go of her. Not even when the first sob bubbled from her chest.

  She looked up at him in horror. The storm of emotions wouldn’t blow over quickly once she let it bluster.

  “It’s okay, Willie. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

  Another hiccup turned into a choked wail. Then another and another followed, each one turning into more hideous cries.

  Somewhere beyond her grief, both for the man she’d lost and the younger version of herself—who’d been too gullible to see the truth—she heard Bryce say softly, “We love you, Ms. Brown. Don’t forget, Hot Rods are for life.”

  Could she deserve to be one of them? Could she risk her heart again after having it stomped on so brutally? Especially now that she knew how much more powerful her link to Tom was? If it broke, it would destroy her.

  She didn’t know if she could be that stupidly brave. And she was afraid it wouldn’t only be her that got hurt if she couldn’t rebuild herself yet again. Tears poured down her cheeks. Selfish, she couldn’t help but accept the Hot Rods’ comfort anyway, especially Tom’s.

  Willie curled against his chest and let every emotion swirling around her vent through her frenzied sobbing. She wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t catch her breath, or because the racking of her body exacerbated the throb in her brain, or because her soul simply couldn’t withstand any more shredding, but midnight descended early, enveloping her in its comforting cloak of nothingness.

  “Oh, shit. She’s gonna pass out.” Tom urged Kaige, “Drive faster, let’s get her home.”

  Home.

  Was that where she belonged? How could she ever trust herself, and her judgment in love again?

  She was afraid she’d lost another place, and the people along with it, before she’d ever really had them.

  Could it be that she was destined to be alone?

  Chapter Nine

  Tom sat up in bed for the second sleepless night in a row. His shoulders rested against his headboard while Willie lay beside him, her head in his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair, then along her shoulder and up her back in an endless circuit that hopefully soothed her half as much as it was doing for him.

  She slept in her sexy negligee since he hadn’t wanted to risk waking her while trying to unravel the getup.

  Looking like a centerfold angel, she couldn’t possibly have been more heartbreakingly beautiful. Except maybe for the butterfly bandage holding the slice on her upper arm closed. Should he have taken her for stitches?

  The last thing he wanted was for Steven to give her another scar to bear. Tom couldn’t help but wonder if she’d already slipped through his fingers, like her silky curls did. In tune with her every breath, he noticed when the pattern of her respiration changed.

  Willie shifted, then blinked a couple times.

  When she saw him awake, guarding her, she tried to talk.

  A husky whisper was all she could manage. “Tommy?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at her, helping her to sit up some before leaning to the side to grab the glass of water he’d left on his nightstand in case she needed to take her medicine again. “Here, have a sip.”

  Her throat must have been raw after the way she’d screamed at her husband, first fending him off then confronting him directly and finally when she’d cried herself out in Tom’s arms.

  “Thanks.” She offered him a weak smile after chugging the entire glass. “I had the weirdest dream…”

  Tom tried to school his face into a blank mask. He knew he’d failed utterly when she tensed in his hold and tried to scoot away. “It was real?”

  “Ah, shit.” He brought her closer instead, hugging her until she subdued her fight-or-flight reaction to the adrenaline that must have spiked in he
r upon realizing, again, that Steven had abandoned her rather than dying that night on the side of the road.

  She elbowed Tom in the ribs, making him ease up on his clutch. Though she didn’t go far, she backed away enough to allow her to grab his hands and study them. Eventually, she declared, “His face looked worse.”

  Tom couldn’t help it. He laughed despite the dirty look she shot him.

  “Forgive me if I don’t crack up with you, Tommy.” Her chin raised and her shoulders went back. “What the hell were you thinking by keeping that from me last night? I sure as shit would have rather heard it from you than find out like I did. Did you think you could hide it forever?”

  He shook his head. She didn’t let him speak.

  “Because that makes you not much better than…him.” It was as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the guy’s name anymore. She stood. “I think I’d better go home.”

  “Willie, wait.” He grabbed her fingers and kept her from fleeing. “You can’t. Your door is busted and—”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll go to Hot Rods. Or to stay with Amber and Gavyn.” She stared him down. “Tom London, you let go of my hand right this instant.”

  Swallowing hard, he did as she demanded. “Honey, I’m not trying to bully you. I’m only afraid that you might not be thinking clearly after such a shock. I’ll take you anywhere safe you want to go. Okay? Just let me put some pants on and I’ll do anything that makes this easier for you. That’s all I want. You, happy.”

  “Well, crap.” She deflated, sinking onto the edge of the bed once more. “It’s hard to argue when you have to be so stinking reasonable.”

  Tom smiled, relief flooding him. “Good to know.”

  Willie sat there, still, for so long, he wasn’t sure what to do next. So he patted the space beside him on the mattress. “It’s toasty over here. You must be chilly since you’re hardly wearing anything.”

  “I think this outfit must be cursed.” She plucked at one of the stockings.

  He might have asked her what she meant by that if she hadn’t taken him up on his offer.

  Scooting closer, she leaned against his side, laying her cheek on his shoulder. “What am I going to do, Tommy?”