A Promise to Protect. Liz Johnson

without any respect. And a man who didn’t respect women could be dangerous. “Was there anything that made you think that particular note was connected to the car that almost hit you?” He followed her to shelves piled with blue jeans.

      “Ye-es,” she said slowly. “That is, I thought there was at the time. The note said something about missing me—that even though he’d missed me, I shouldn’t think that that meant I could keep his property. But maybe he just meant he’d missed seeing me—that he’d come by the house when I wasn’t there for him to yell at me in person.”

      “Did you turn the note over to the police?”

      The glance over her shoulder at him was more resigned than worried.

      Had threats become such a part of her life at Lil’s Place that she couldn’t even recognize a real one when it came along?

      And this one was real.

      “Of course I did. The chief told me they couldn’t do anything. The threat was too vague. It wasn’t...well...threatening enough.”

      Matt subdued the growl growing at the back of his throat. Abusive men weren’t to be trifled with. They weren’t concerned about anyone but themselves. Matt knew that firsthand. He also knew that they didn’t give up. If this guy was angry enough to try to run Ashley over, he wasn’t going to give up if she didn’t capitulate after a note. This guy would try other, more forceful tactics until he got what he wanted.

      Maybe he hadn’t always been able to protect his foster moms from being beaten when he was a kid, but he most certainly could do something to protect Ashley from an abuser now. Ten years on the teams and more training than any man could use at one time, he knew how to defend himself and how to protect the innocent. And with her platinum-blond hair, freckled nose and shining eyes, she looked like the epitome of innocence.

      “Listen, I’m just going to be in town for a few days. I’m already set up at the hotel down the street. Let me just look into things while I’m here.” He followed her to the register as she purchased several pairs of jeans. “I won’t get in your way.”

      She smiled up at him as though he was a child. “Thanks, but I’m okay. Really. I’m used to taking care of my girls.” She stepped through the door that he held open and strolled toward her parked car. “I got the note more than a week ago. If there was any danger, something else would have happened by now.” She laughed up at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “So now what will you do?”

      He pushed her arm as he’d seen Tristan do a thousand times, pushing aside a decidedly unbrotherly thought. “Well, my hotel doesn’t have ESPN, but I am trained in spec ops. I’ll come up with something.”

      Something like setting up a perimeter around her home to keep the threat at bay, and making sure that her security system would do its job. He’d stop by the police station and see if he could get them to pay a little more attention to Ashley’s situation, just in case he needed them down the road. And then he’d ask around to see if there were any troublemakers in town. Pressing on them might reveal the coward afraid to stand by his threats.

      As they reached her car, her laughter died on her lips. He didn’t have to ask if she still thought the threat had passed. Pure terror flashed across her face as she took in the smashed windshield of her coupe. And tucked over a spiderweb of cracks and under a wiper blade, the person responsible for the mess had left a clear message.

      If I don’t get what’s mine, you’ll get what’s yours.

      TWO

      Crossing her arms against a chill coming from somewhere deep within, Ashley stared at the note still wedged beneath the wiper blade.

      If I don’t get what’s mine, you’ll get what’s yours.

      Another line beneath the first gave instructions for returning his property. Put it back where you found it.

      The words made her skin crawl as another shiver shot down her spine, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Her gaze traveled up and down the sidewalk. The chalkboard signs and colorful awnings were the only signs of life, except for Matt, who was marching backward toward the closest alley, his eyes squinting at her hard. “Stay put.”

      At any other time, she might have resented being ordered around, but at that moment she was too worried to even notice. Apparently the note and near hit-and-run hadn’t been a fluke. Someone really was after something. Or someone.

      And that meant she might need the SEAL’s help to protect her girls. As uncomfortable as she was with the thought of trusting her safety—and especially the safety of the families in her house—to someone else, her discomfort seemed a small price for the specialized protection he could offer.

      She pressed her hands to her cheeks and took several deep breaths, her stomach pitching like a canoe in a typhoon. Even with her eyes pinched closed, she could see her windshield, and she clamped them even tighter, trying to dispel the image. Although the picture wouldn’t disappear, she refused to give in to the burning at the back of her eyes, instead letting out a slow breath through clenched teeth as she prayed for something she couldn’t even name.

      Peace?

      Courage?

      Protection?

      “There’s no one there.” Matt’s words snatched her from the depths of her own mind. “This must have happened a while ago.” His lips barely moved, but the force of his tone could have blown over the first little pig’s house. She could only be thankful that his ire was directed at the situation and not at her.

      “Thanks for checking.”

      “We need to report this.”

      She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling out her phone. “First I have to call the house and make sure everyone’s okay. That this guy—” she nodded toward her car “—didn’t go there after doing this.” With fingers that shook more than she wanted to admit, she punched in the number to Lil’s Place; the knot in her stomach tightened with each unanswered ring.

      The intensity in Matt’s eyes only made her throat thick, so she turned her back on him. Holding her breath on the fifth ring, she prayed someone would pick up. What if the man who’d smashed her windshield and left this note had hurt the women at Lil’s?

      No. She wouldn’t let that happen. Not on her watch.

      If someone didn’t answer on the next ring, she’d fly—shattered glass and all—back to the house.

      “Hello?”

      “Meghan?”

      “Hi, Ashley.” Was her voice too calm? Her tone overly cool? Was someone there with her, threatening her?

      Ashley bit her lip hard, the pain forcing her mind back to the immediate. “Is everything all right at the house?”

      “Of course.”

      “But it took five rings for you to pick up.”

      Meghan chuckled, the bright, cheerful sound an exact replica of her ten-year-old daughter’s laugh. “The girls and I are making cookies, and we had the mixer on. We didn’t hear the phone.”

      “And everyone else? Carmen? Benita and Julio?”

      “Well, Carmen left this morning with you, but everyone else is in the living room.” Right. Carmen’s interview and testing for the bookkeeping position would last at least another couple of hours, and she had lined up another ride back to Lil’s.

      Meghan’s tone dropped, and Ashley could picture her ducking into the hallway away from her two young daughters. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

      Ashley let out a slow breath, glancing back at the car and the intimidating man leaning against it. Arms crossed, he leaned on one leg and rested the other foot on top of the opposite ankle, his eyes sweeping the street over and over. When he caught her staring