Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
B rock wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, squinting at the sun as it hung low in the sky. It was near five o’clock, but the heat clung to him like a second skin. It was late spring, yet it felt like the dead of summer with the kind of heat that seeped into your bones, making the air thick and heavy. But that was Kentucky for you: one day, a cool breeze and the scent of fresh rain. The next was the kind of sweltering heat that made you question whether spring had ever existed. The Crumpton place was quiet, aside from the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze and the steady pounding of his hammer against the wooden frame of the back porch. He had been working to fix the rotted steps, reinforcing the railing, and patching up a few weak spots in the floorboards.
The physical labor was good. It kept his hands busy, his mind occupied. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts drifted back to Deb.
Brock had managed to get Hunter to talk about Deb, though nothing he’d said had been particularly flattering. According to him, Deb Snodgrass had spent years making it her personal mission to be the town’s biggest pain in the ass. She’d been sharp-tongued, condescending, and just plain mean to anyone who crossed her path. It wasn’t just a bad attitude—it was who she was, or at least, who she’d wanted people to believe she was. And then, out of nowhere, something changed.
Hunter didn’t know exactly what had caused the shift, only that it had something to do with a damn piece of chocolate pie. Apparently, that was the town rumor. Devon Stark’s mate, Jamie, had brought Deb a slice from the diner and ever since, she’d been different. Kinder. More tolerable.
Brock had to admit, he liked chocolate pie just as much as the next guy, but he doubted a single dessert had the power to alter someone’s entire personality. No, there had to be more to the story because the Deb he’d seen wasn’t the woman Hunter described.
She was the woman who had opened her doors to his sister and nephew, giving them a safe place to land when they needed it most. She’d done the same for him, no questions asked, no expectations in return. That didn’t sound like someone cruel or selfish. It sounded like someone who truly cared for others in need. Her past was the past, but damn if the Alpha in him didn’t want to know exactly what that past was.
When she had fallen off that damn roof, his heart had nearly stopped. It made no damn sense. He barely knew her. And yet, the sight of her dangling there had triggered something primal in him, something that had his wolf snarling inside him to protect her.
And when he’d caught her… hell.
She had looked up at him with those green eyes, wide and stunned. Her body pressed against his like she didn’t quite know how to breathe. It had taken everything in him to set her down, to force his hands to let go. And when she had walked away, shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of the world, it had bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
Brock sighed, running a hand through his hair before picking up a drill. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need to be thinking about a woman like Deb. He had enough on his plate—his sister and nephew, for starters. He had walked away from pack life for a reason, and now, all of a sudden, he was fixing roofs and catching women who had no business being on ladders.
Damn it.
He was halfway through securing the last railing when the screen door creaked open.
“Uncle Brock!”
He turned just in time for Ben to barrel into his side, his small arms wrapping around Brock’s waist in a quick hug before pulling back with an excited grin. Brock ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Hey, kid. You causing trouble?”
Ben snickered, shaking his head. “Nope! Mom says I’m an angel.”
“Uh-huh,” Brock smirked. “And I once arm-wrestled a T-Rex.” Ben loved dinosaurs, with the T-Rex being his favorite.
Ben laughed, his brown eyes shining with mischief. “No, you didn’t.”
Brock chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.
Tammy stepped outside, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and though she tried to hide it, he could see the exhaustion in her face. His sister had been through hell, and even though she was safe, he knew she still felt like she was looking over her shoulder.
“How’s it coming along?” she asked, her voice soft.
Brock took a step back and gestured to the porch. “Should hold up a hell of a lot better now. No more worrying about you or Ben falling through the damn floor.”
Tammy smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks, Brock.”
He just nodded. He didn’t need thanks. He just needed to make sure she was okay. That Ben was okay.
Ben climbed onto the newly reinforced railing, swinging his legs as he studied Brock. “Uncle Brock?”
“Yeah?”
The kid hesitated, kicking at the wood beneath him before finally meeting Brock’s gaze. “Are we staying here forever?”
Tammy stiffened beside him, her fingers tightening on her arms. Brock’s jaw clenched. He hated that Ben even had to ask that. Hated that his sister had spent years trapped in a nightmare, and now she and her son didn’t even know if they had a real home.
“You’re safe here,” Brock said firmly. “That’s what matters.”
Ben nodded, like that answer was good enough for now, and jumped down, running off toward the side of the house.
Tammy exhaled a slow breath. “I hate that he has to wonder.”
“I know.” Brock’s voice was rough, but honest. “But you did the right thing, Tam. Getting him away from that bastard.”
Her eyes met his, pain flickering behind them. “I just hope it’s enough.”
Brock didn’t have an answer for that. All he could do was make sure no one ever laid a hand on her or Ben again. “He will not get near you or Ben again, Tammy.”
Reaching out, she touched her brother’s arm with a sad smile. “I know, it’s just...it’s hard not to be afraid.”
Pulling his sister into a firm, brotherly hug, Brock exhaled slowly, trying to keep the rage simmering in his gut from bleeding into his voice. “I’m sorry, Tam,” he murmured, his grip tightening for a second before he pulled back to look at her. “I should have?—”
“You’re here now.” Tammy didn’t let him finish. Her voice was soft yet firm, her eyes holding a quiet plea. “That’s all that matters to me and Ben.”
Brock swallowed hard, guilt and fury tangling inside him. He should’ve checked on her sooner, dammit. He should have heard it in her voice when he had talked to her. But he hadn’t, and that truth ate at him.
Instead of saying any of that, he just nodded. Sometimes, words didn’t fix a damn thing.
He watched as she turned, her shoulders still tense but her steps a little lighter than they’d been when she first arrived. Full of energy and resilience, Ben jumped up the steps two at a time, following his mother inside.
Brock stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure how, but he’d make damn sure she and Ben never had to live in fear again.
By the time Brock finished cleaning up, the sun had started to set. Brock rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the tension from the day, and that’s when he caught sight of a familiar figure walking down the road.
Deb.
Alone.
He frowned, watching as she made her way toward the only restaurant in the small town, her arms wrapped around herself even though the air was warm. She walked with purpose, but something about how her head was slightly bowed and kept glancing around didn’t sit right with him.
Brock swore under his breath, tossing his tools aside before grabbing a rag to wipe the sweat and dirt from his hands. His gut twisted with an urgency he didn’t quite understand as he stepped on the porch, moving with purpose.
He rushed inside, the screen door slamming behind him. “Go ahead and eat without me,” he told Tammy, already heading toward the small bathroom.
Tammy arched a brow from where she stood at the kitchen counter, but she didn’t question him. She just nodded, a knowing look in her eyes.
Brock didn’t have time to dwell on what she might be thinking. He jumped into the shower, the water running hot as he scrubbed off the day's sweat and grime. His mind wasn’t on the work he’d done or even on the storm damage he still had to help fix. No, his thoughts were on Deb and the way she carried herself like she was bracing for a blow, like she expected people to turn on her at any moment.
Damn it.
He shut the water off, ran a towel over his face, and yanked on a clean pair of jeans and a fitted T-shirt. Running a hand through his damp hair, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.
“Make sure you lock the door behind me,” Brock ordered Tammy who followed him. “I’ve got my keys.”
He didn’t move off the porch until the lock clicked behind him. Brock wasn’t sure why, but he felt an urgency to protect Deb Snodgrass. He knew he would have no peace if he didn’t act on it. His wolf growled in agreement.
Maybe it was just the alpha in him, that deep-rooted instinct to protect, to step in when someone needed it. Yeah, that’s what it was. Nothing more. Just his nature kicking in, his wolf’s natural dominance demanding he make sure she was okay.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he shoved his keys into his pocket and headed toward the diner, his boots hitting the pavement with more force than necessary.
But deep down, he knew that was a lie.