Husky Love (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue)

Prologue

Rob

I clutched my children. How I could possibly have sunk so low? How had things gotten so bad? How had I allowed my husband to do the things he had?

The nice police officer offered a smile. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her blue eyes seemed kind. My four-year-old daughter, Hallie, had the same coloring. Well, her hair was almost white, while Officer Greenaway’s was on the darker side.

Will Hallie’s hair darken as she ages? Or will it stay so light forever?

And why are you thinking about this when you have bigger issues to deal with?

“Are you going to take my children away from me?”

Hallie, who was curled into my side, wrapped her tiny arms around my waist. Or at least she tried to.

One-year-old Thomas slept in my arms. He’d been underweight when he’d been born, and I’d done everything I could to help him gain weight and be healthy. He’d recently made it into the normal range. Not that my kids had to ever be normal. They were perfect just the way they were. And I’d been damn lucky to be chosen to adopt them.

But everything changed after Thomas’s arrival. I’d been so focused on getting him healthy that sometimes Gerard had come second to our son’s needs. He’d accused me of neglecting him, which I’d never understood. The verbal tirades had tripped into abuse, and I hadn’t even realized.

“Mr. Brewster?—”

“Could you call me Rob? Mr. Brewster is Gerard’s name…” And I didn’t have the money or energy to change my name back to Dunn—even if I wanted to be connected to my parents again. Which I didn’t. “Just…Rob.”

She smiled. “Okay, Rob.” She tapped her pen on her notebook. “These allegations of abuse?—”

“Allegations?” I tried to calm myself. “He broke my nose. He…” I glanced down at Hallie, then back up at the police officer. I couldn’t say the words aloud, but the bruises on her beautiful, pale skin should’ve been enough.

“He claims you walked into a door and that you were the one who grabbed your daughter by the arm.”

Of course he did.

I girded my loins. “Check the nanny cam. It’s in Hallie’s bedroom. If he didn’t find it, it should show everything that happened.”

She cocked her head. “You thought this might happen? Or were you worried about a babysitter?”

“There’s no babysitter. I haven’t left the house since we adopted Hallie.” I winced. “That came out wrong. I mean, I took her to the park. I wanted to enroll her in daycare so I could have a bit of a break, but Gerard said we couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh?”

I wanted to cry. “Gerard said that even though he lived in a mansion there was never money for luxuries.” I wouldn’t talk about the thousands of dollars he spent on electronics for his gaming addiction. Maybe we really didn’t have anything left over after that. But somehow, I doubted that. He drove an expensive car, and we lived in one of the most expensive suburbs of Los Angeles. I’d believed I’d found the jackpot when Gerard chose me.

We’d married and, at first, his little criticisms were because he wanted the best for me. Then Hallie came along, and everything seemed good. Then came the constructive criticism. I’d always been accused of being too sensitive, especially by my cruel family, so I thought this was normal. I’d accepted he loved me and Hallie and was showing us his love in his own way. I didn’t think he could be cruel. Although, in hindsight, that was a lack of imagination on my part. This got worse after we brought Thomas home. I thought we were giving the kids a loving home.

I’d been so very, very wrong.

“Will you look into our finances?” I wanted to know the truth. Even if I didn’t get a penny, I needed to know.

“Did your husband…” She tapped her pen.

“Hallie?”

She nodded.

“No. I can say that honestly. She’s never out of my sight.”

“But surely when you slept?”

I fought the bile rising in my gorge. “He has a temper and likes to be the boss.” I hesitated, then added, “I think maybe he likes when I’m afraid of him, but he’s…not that.”

She didn’t appear convinced.

“Honestly.” I gestured to my nose. For my trouble, a wave of nausea rose. “Am I going to lose my children?”

“Do you think you deserve to lose them?”

I glanced down at Hallie’s ringlet curls and then to Thomas, who slept deeply in my arms. “It’ll kill me.” I met the police officer’s gaze. “But I didn’t keep them safe.”

I gazed at Thomas. “No.” I needed her to understand. “Gerard didn’t touch the baby. He’d yell, and sometimes it scared the children, but the bruises on Hallie were the first time…” I drew in a breath. “I ran before anything worse happened.”

Another tap of the pen.

The smell of antiseptic wafted over me. I wanted out of this hospital so badly, but I was terrified my children wouldn’t be allowed to come with me.

“There’s a significant age difference between you and your husband.” No derision in husband. Thank God she didn’t appear to be homophobic.

But she was right about the age difference. Twenty-two years was significant.

“You were how old when you adopted Hallie?”

My daughter stirred at her name, then clutched me even tighter.

“I was twenty.” She knew this. Undoubtedly, she could do the math.

“And you’d already been married…”

“Almost two years.”

“So you were eighteen when you married? And he was forty?”

“Nineteen.” As if that made a lick of difference. “Look, I’m sure Gerard will tell you how he rescued me. He’s not lying. I was in a bad place with zero hope. I thought he was my savior. And for a while, things were great.”

She held my gaze.

“We were so happy when we adopted Hallie. Her mom…” I hesitated. Marie had been in a bad place. I’d known her from when we’d been homeless together. We’d lost touch when I landed in a good place. Her turning up on my doorstep, eight months pregnant, had just…been one of those things. Like it’d been meant to be.

Gerard had been the one to suggest we adopt the baby.

I’d suspected Marie had been raped, and she also used drugs on and off. She wasn’t in a position to raise a child, even if I’d been able to give her all the money she’d need. And I hadn’t been able to—but I could give her baby a loving home.

“And Thomas?” The officer looked at the baby in my arms. His darker skin often raised questions.

“We put our names in with an adoption agency. In the end, though, a girl approached us privately. I think she’d heard from Marie how we helped her out, and…” I swallowed. “Cantrice wanted us to privately adopt Thomas.” I cradled my infant son against my chest.

“Private adoption?”

I nodded.

“So it was finalized after six months?”

“Yeah.” I gazed down at my son. “That was six months ago.”

“Do you know where Cantrice is now?”

I shook my head. “She asked for money so she could go to New York. I don’t know how sincere she was about leaving LA, but Gerard was happy to give her the money once the adoption was finalized.” Panic at the thought of her returning and demanding to take Thomas back welled within me. Given how poorly I’d taken care of myself, she wouldn’t be wrong in questioning my ability to care for him.

Except I would’ve laid my life on the line for him. Damn near had.

“Do you have a place to go?”

I shook my head. “No. I mean, can’t I go home?”

The officer arched an eyebrow. “Sure. And you can get a restraining order in case he’s released, but?—”

“Released?” I squeaked that, and Hallie held on tighter.

“Yes. I mean, I’m certain the prosecutor will try to keep him in jail, but the judge might offer bail.”

“Which he’d be able to post.”

“Right.” She smiled at Hallie. “Do you have money?”

I swallowed. “I have a twenty in my wallet.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me make a call.” She pocketed her notebook and stepped out of the room.

I tried to stave off the shakes. Four hours ago… I wanted to say I’d been happy, but that wouldn’t have been true. I wanted to say I’d felt safe, but that wouldn’t have been true. Finally, I wanted to say I’d known what my future held in store, but that wasn’t true either.

Officer Greenaway returned about fifteen minutes later, her face set in a grim line. “We don’t have any open shelter beds for men with children right now.”

Of course they didn’t. “I’m not giving up my children.” If they went somewhere else, I might never see them again.

“I called a friend. He’s a social worker down in Gaynor Beach. Have you ever heard of the town?”

I wracked my brain. I knew a few places around Los Angeles, but not many. I’d grown up in Missouri and hadn’t looked back after being booted out at sixteen. I’d had enough cash to get to LA, and I’d thought…huh. I wasn’t sure what I’d thought. Not that I’d be living on the streets for two years. I’d had dreams of finishing high school and maybe college. I’d believed after I married Gerard that he’d support me to get my GED. That hadn’t happened either. I blinked. “Gaynor Beach?”

“It’s a couple of hours south of here. Between Huntington Beach and Oceanside. On the way to San Diego.”

Slowly, I nodded. I knew San Diego. Had never been there, but I understood it was south of here.

“My friend can drive up here to take you back. He’s got a place you can stay for the night and then he has a line on a house you might be able to stay in. It’s a small house?—”

“I don’t care.” I needed to show appropriate gratitude while not losing my ever-loving shit at the kindness of this woman. “We…” I winced. “We need car seats.” We hadn’t had them when we’d come to the hospital because everything had been so chaotic. I hadn’t even thought about it as I’d clutched my children’s hands in the ambulance.

“My friend is the father of several children. He’s got car seats.” She eyed me. “I can go back to the house and get a few things?—”

“No. We need to leave. Now.” I needed to get out of LA as soon as possible. As fast as we could move.

“He’s safe in jail.”

“You said he might get out.” I might not have a high school diploma, but I’d watched enough television and news shows to know that many first-time offenders got bail if they could afford it. And that restraining orders were useless.

Officer Greenaway nodded. “Is there anyone you want to call? To let them know you’re going away but that you’re okay? You shouldn’t tell them where you’re going, of course…”

I didn’t feel okay, and I definitely didn’t have anyone to call. Gerard had made certain I had no one. “We’re good.”

A nurse entered the room carrying a cloth bag. “Diapers, formula, wipes, and a few snacks for the little one.” She smiled at Hallie, who just burrowed into me more.

I could barely tell where I ended and she began.

Then the nurse put a pile of clothes on the exam table. “For you.”

I gazed down and winced. Yeah, the shirt soaked in blood wasn’t a good look. Even my track pants hadn’t escaped the ordeal. But I’d keep them because they were all I had. I’d figure out how to get the blood out. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t I hold the little one while you change? It will be nice to be in fresh clothes.” The woman held out her tanned arms.

Her kind, dark-brown eyes mesmerized me as I considered her offer. The gray streaks somehow assured me. Not just that she could hold Thomas properly, but that she’d seen shit like this before. I was quite certain I wasn’t the only battered husband who’d graced the corridors of this hospital. I was lucky I was able to walk out. It could’ve been so much worse.

I handed my baby boy over to her and tried to untangle myself from Hallie.

Officer Greenaway held out her hands.

Reluctantly, I tried to encourage Hallie to go to the woman.

My girl was having none of that. She started howling.

The police officer backed up. “We’ll leave you to change.”

“Can’t you just turn around?” I didn’t want Thomas out of my sight.

“We’ll be just outside the door, right there…” She pointed to the door.

I weighed the idea of privacy versus letting Thomas out of my sight for a moment. I didn’t have any other marks on me, but I didn’t need to be scrutinized. Finally, I nodded.

The two women stepped outside the room.

I toed off my running shoes, relieved to see they weren’t speckled with blood. “Sweetheart, Papa needs to get his clothes changed. Will you sit in the chair while I do that?” As open and free as I tried to be with my kids about nudity, I always hesitated with Hallie. I’d grown up in a repressed household, and I didn’t want my daughter to have the same hangups. On the other hand, I was always conscious of being perceived as being some kind of deviant because I was gay.

Apparently my own hangups remained.

Still, Hallie sat on the hard plastic chair while I quickly changed. I nabbed a plastic bag, dumped the bloodstained clothes in it, tied it, then rearranged the supplies in the cloth bag so my soiled things sat at the bottom and everything I needed to take care of my son was on top.

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. All these people were strangers to me—and yet they were generously opening their hearts and helping me. I didn’t feel worthy.

I never felt worthy.

As I gazed at my daughter, the dawning realization I had to do better struck me with the force of a two-by-four to the solar plexus. I was all she had. All Thomas had. No more Gerard to back me up. Not that he’d done much of it, anyway. But now, if something happened to me, my babies had no one. That thought saddened and terrified. What if…they let Gerard take them? Or, worse, they called my parents?

I vowed to see a lawyer as soon as I could. I had no idea who I might nominate as a guardian, but just about anyone else—except Gerard—would be better than my parents. At least I hoped I could do this. God, you know nothing about the law, about children, or about your rights. I’d understood adoption rules because we’d been deep in the weeds. The rest hadn’t seemed important. How’s that working out for you?

Hallie, having clearly run out of patience, held her arms open.

I scooped her into mine, holding her close. “We need to find Thomas.” The nice people said they’d be just outside, but what if they’d been lying? What if they’d tricked me?

Panic seized my heart as I barged into the corridor.

To find the nice nurse holding a sleeping Thomas who was, apparently, oblivious to everything going on around him. I swore he’d sleep through an earthquake.

Hallie was the opposite. Even in sleep, she was hypervigilant—waking at every noise and often coming to see me. That irritated the shit out of Gerard, if she woke him by accident, but I liked that she felt she could come to me when she was scared. That I was her port in the storm.

The nice nurse indicated the room with her head.

I went back in and she followed. Instead of trying to hand back Thomas, she sat in a chair with armrests and settled him—and apparently herself—comfortably.

She eyed me. “Why don’t you lie on the bed and try to get some rest? Officer Greenaway said it’ll be a few hours.”

Until what? I wanted to ask. But hadn’t the kind woman said something about a social worker coming from Gaynor Beach? That we’d have somewhere safe to stay for the night? I clung to that hope, even as I positioned myself on the bed with Hallie tucked against me.

Against all odds, I managed a bit of sleep and was groggy when someone shook me awake. I blinked in the bright light, disoriented until I caught sight of Officer Greenaway.

Hallie didn’t stir when I untangled myself and managed to sit up.

The officer stepped back to reveal a tall, slender man. His tanned skin glowed in the overhead light, his beard was neatly trimmed, and he had a cautious grin. What I mostly noticed, though, was the eyes. He had kind dark-brown eyes that offered a promise of solace in this dark moment I found myself in.

“My name is Anthony Rodrigues. I’m a social worker from Gaynor Beach. If you like, I can take you to a safe place for the night and help you start fresh. We’ll take care of you.”

I sobbed.