Clara’s Secure Hideaway (Safe Haven Women’s Shelter #6)

Chapter 1

1

Six Months Earlier

T he sound of the slamming front door tensed every muscle in Clara Parson’s body. As she peeled potatoes, she checked the clock on the stove. Mitch wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour. She’d hoped to clean the living room before he returned from work. Now there’d be one more thing to upset him.

“Clara! What the hell have you been doing all day?” Heavy footsteps rattled the floorboards of the small house seconds before her husband’s large form dominated the doorframe.

The year before, she’d finally worked up the courage to leave Mitch and take her two small children somewhere safe. But he’d swept back into her life months ago, filled with promises of being a changed man and a future filled with love.

She’d been na?ve—and desperate—enough to believe him.

“Well?” he bellowed, his rough voice wrapping around her neck like a noose. Black oil stained his shirt and smudges of dirt streaked across his cheek. His dark hair was cut short, but the wayward strands stuck out as though he’d been running his hands through them.

She sent a quick prayer that the kids would stay in their room before swallowing a sigh and facing him with a tight smile. “The kids and I went to the park earlier. When we got home, I started dinner right away. I knew you’d be hungry.”

He snorted and stomped across the kitchen to yank open the refrigerator. Pulling out a beer, he popped the top of the can and fell into his usual chair at the head of the table. “Those brats are too damn spoiled. You should be home, not traipsing all over town.”

Tension smothered the small space, the quick whisking of the peeler over the brown potato skin the only sound. Clara’s heart raced and it took more effort than she thought possible to keep her hand from trembling.

If she showed fear, he’d pounce. Just like he had last night.

The tender spot around her eye ached. Shame twisted her gut. She’d fought so hard for her freedom. Had utilized the services of the women’s shelter to help with a place to stay and childcare. Then filled her home in Water’s Edge, Tennessee, with more love and security than they’d ever known. Replacing bad memories with good.

Then Mitch showed up and her resolve had crumbled along with her dignity.

Unshed tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. If Mitch pounced over the scent of her fear, her tears worked like some kind of accelerator for his anger. Best to show zero emotion.

“Those kids better not sit around doing nothing all day while I’m working my ass off. We’ve all got to pick up the slack around here.” He pressed the can to his lips and his throat bobbed on a long swallow before he slammed the empty can on the table. “Damn kids need to learn responsibility.”

At four and two, responsibility wasn’t even a word they could repeat, but she kept that comment to herself.

He rose and retraced his steps back to the fridge. He opened the door before quickly slamming it shut again. “Seriously? You were out earlier and couldn’t pick me up more beer? I swear, you’re useless.”

The trembling in her hands increased, causing her to slice the peeler over her finger. She hissed out her pain, turning on the water to wash away the blood beading over her skin.

In a spilt second, Mitch was behind her. His hard chest molded against her back and he braced his hands on the edge of the sink, trapping her in place. He chuckled and his warm breath coated her cheek. He shut off the water then slid his hand to capture her wrist. “You can’t even peel potatoes right. Always making a mess out of things, aren’t you?”

She held her breath and waited for him to tire of whatever game he played. If she kept quiet, maybe he’d leave her alone.

He tightened his grip and pain radiated up her arm. The blood from her cut coated her injured finger. Pressing his body harder against her back, he used his other hand to grab the peeler from the sink. “You and all your accidents. Maybe we should teach you a lesson. Then you’ll be a little more careful.”

Her stomach churned, and she swallowed the bile raising to her throat.

The cool metal grazed against her index finger as though Mitch planned to peel back more skin.

She closed her eyes, unable to watch whatever fresh hell he’d unleashed in his mind, preparing to inflict a new kind of pain.

The sharp tip of the tool moved up her finger to rest at the inside of her wrist. Her body tensed. Panic charged through her brain like a live wire.

He nuzzled his mouth against her ear. “If a little prick can cause so much blood on the tip of your stupid finger, just think of what it could do here. Can you picture it? I can.”

Disgust and hatred and terror clamored together like a dust storm of emotions, pushing down on her slender shoulders. She couldn’t live like this anymore. Hell, if she stayed, she might not live much longer at all.

Her mind worked in overdrive. What was the right thing to say to diffuse this man? How could she finesse her way out of this without another fist to the face or alerting the children to the war erupting in their own home?

A small slice cut through her thin skin, and she yelped. She yanked back her hand. “Stop it.” She spit out the quiet words like venom.

“Or what?” He spun her around and pressed his face close to hers. Excitement lit his blue eyes, but the redness of his face and the vein ticking at his temple told her she’d made the wrong move. “You think you can tell me what to do? That I’d ever listen to you? I’ll show you who’s the boss around here.”

“Mama?”

The sound of her little boy’s sweet voice forced a smile to her lips. She peered around Mitch’s shoulders to his sweet face, the green eyes and honey colored hair so much like her own. “Hi, baby. Daddy and I are just talking while I make dinner. Go back to your room and check on your sister for me, will you please? I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.”

Mitch glared, never breaking contact. Never acknowledging the presence of their child. The light in his eyes intensified along with his grip.

“Okay, Mama. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

When his footsteps faded and the sound of his bedroom door closing reached her ears, Mitch’s glower morphed into a smirk.

She closed her eyes, escaped into the dark place in her mind she needed to survive, and braced herself to take on the full force of his wrath.

* * *

Present Day

The last customer from the morning rush walked out the door, and Clara slumped on the red vinyl-topped stool in front of the counter. Her feet ached in her white tennis shoes. She still wasn’t used to dragging herself out of bed hours before the sun rose to get to a job. But she was finally happy.

Lulu, her boss and owner of the diner, scurried behind the glass display case. “People sure were hungry today. I might have to teach you how to bake to keep up with the demand of these pastries. Those locusts about wiped me clean out.”

“Baking’s not my specialty, but I’m willing to learn.” She couldn’t help but smile.

She’d learned a lot the last six months. Especially about herself. She was strong and capable, and nothing was beyond her reach if she tried hard enough. With her good-for-nothing ex-husband behind bars, she was free to live her life for herself and her children.

And she planned on making every day count. No more walking on eggshells or placating a man so she wouldn’t get a smack across the face. No more doubting her skills or intellect. No more wishing her kids could grow up in a happier and healthier environment.

Because they were thriving. She’d worked hard and provided them with a safe home filled with laughter and love.

Pride squeezed her chest. Blessed didn’t even begin to describe where she was in her life, and Lulu was a big reason why. So if she needed to learn how to bake pastries and get out of bed even earlier to make it happen, she would.

The bell above the door chimed, announcing the arrival of Deputy Heath Sterling. Her stomach did a flip, and she jumped to her feet before smoothing her long ponytail.

“Morning,” Lulu sang. “I’ve got a fresh pot brewing if that’s what you’re interested in.”

He shot Clara a lopsided grin and gave a subtle nod before claiming a stool and focusing on Lulu. “You know me well. Any chance you still have some cinnamon rolls left? I was busy this morning and couldn’t make it in quicker.”

Lulu fisted a hand on one wide hip. “I figured you’d be around. I kept one safe for you in the back. Give me a second.”

Lulu disappeared behind the swinging door that led to the kitchen, leaving Clara and Heath alone in the diner.

Needing to do something with her hands, she hurried behind the counter and grabbed a dish towel and cleaner to wipe off the tables. There’d be a short lull before the late-morning usuals arrived, followed by another rush for lunch. Best to prepare now.

Besides, standing in one spot and staring at the handsome deputy would only cause them both embarrassment.

“How ya doin’, Clara?”

The sound of his deep baritone skimmed down her back like silk as she cleaned off crumbs and straightened the salt and pepper shakers. So stupid. She was too busy to give this weird attraction she felt any attention, not to mention her choice of men was questionable at best. Everyone in Water’s Edge knew her story. A man like Deputy Sterling would run far away from a single mother with a tragic past.

“I’m good, Deputy. You?” She kept her back to him while she tidied the next table. Making sure to place everything exactly the way Lulu had shown her when she’d started working there months before.

He chuckled, drawing her gaze his way. “We know each other well enough for you to call me Heath. If you want,” he said, lifting his palms. “No pressure. You can stick to ‘hey you’ if you’d like.”

She couldn’t stop the grin that fought to take over her mouth. Heath was a daily visitor to Lulu’s Diner, and she’d come to look forward to seeing him. Even if she’d only admit that to herself. “Heath it is.”

Lulu burst through the door carrying two plates. She slid one in front of Heath and hoisted the other in the air. “I saved one for you, too, Clara. You need to eat. You’re like a tiny little bird. Come sit and take a break while I run to the bank. Carl’s in the back if someone comes in to order. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Placing the second plate next to the first, she untied her apron, draping it over the counter, and disappeared out the front door.

Clara swallowed her anxiety. Her ex-husband was the only man she’d been alone with for years and that never ended well. But there was a quiet softness about Heath that calmed her, which in itself was terrifying.

As if sensing her unease, Heath slid her plate a little way from him so she wouldn’t have to sit so close. Not like she’d hate his nearness. If anything, she was confused about why her body reacted so strong to a man she barely knew.

Yes, he was handsome. But so was Mitch. And he’d been nice too, in the beginning. Her instincts had been so wrong where Mitch was concerned, and he’d manipulated her more than once to let him back into her home—into her heart.

She couldn’t afford to be wrong about another man again. She had too much at stake.

Oblivious to the constant stream of chatter in her brain, Heath bit into the frosting-covered roll and closed his eyes. “Dear Lord. I’m sure Lulu puts something in here to keep me coming back. These are so damn good.”

“She might teach me how to make them,” she said, rounding the counter and grabbing the coffee pot. She flipped over the cream-colored mug in front of Heath and filled it to the top.

His brown eyes popped open. “You’d be a fool not to take her up on that offer. Any woman who knows how to make these holds the keys to the kingdom.”

“What kingdom is that?” she asked, amused.

Grinning, he shrugged. “Whichever one you want, I guess.” He took another bite and bits of crumbs stuck in his dark beard.

She chuckled and wiped her index finger along her chin, indicating where he’d left part of his breakfast. “You might need a napkin.”

Turning to grab him one from the dispenser behind her, the bell chimed again. She spun around to greet the newcomer, and her world crashed at her feet, stealing her ability to move.

Mitch stood in the doorway. His dark hair was as short as always, and a long-sleeve t-shirt accentuated his biceps. He pressed his mouth in a hard line and quiet fury sparked from his blue eyes.

Heath stilled, his eyebrows tented in confusion, then turned in his stool. His body tensed before facing Clara again. “You okay?”

Words escaped her. No, she was not okay. She was far from it. The last time Mitch had beat her, she’d ended up at the hospital which led to charges finally being pressed against him. He’d been sentenced to years in jail, not months. She’d finally gotten her life on track, and if she knew Mitch as well as she thought she did, he’d do whatever he could to shove it back off the rails.

“What’s wrong, Clara? Not happy to see me?” Mitch took two steps forward.

Six or more feet might separate them, but his presence still suffocated her. She scampered backward until the wall pinned her in place. “How are you here?”

“Good behavior got me out early. I’m surprised you didn’t know. Can’t wait to pick up right where we left off.” He took another step.

She cowered against the wall, memories of every slap, every bruise, every angry word slamming against her. “No. You need to leave.”

Heath stood and shifted to stand between her and Mitch. “You heard her. Time to go, Mitch.”

Mitch worked his strong jaw back and forth then leaned to the side to stare her down. “This what you do now? Wait on men who want to get you in bed? Real classy.”

The insults struck their mark, and she hated the way her hands trembled. Fear paralyzed her brain, her mouth, her body. Shock locked her in place.

“That’s enough,” Heath said, his voice eerily calm and quiet. But something in his tone, or maybe it was the deputy’s uniform announcing his position, forced Mitch to take a step back.

“Fine. I’ll leave. But things are far from over, Clara. They’ve only just begun.”

He strolled back outside and the tears she held back fell freely down her face.