6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Deacon
There was no reason for me to be walking along this end of Main Street other than curiosity. I’d driven by Sugar Rush a few times on my way to work, but I hadn’t gotten a good look.
That was all I wanted: one good look.
My newfound freedom meant I could sate my curiosity whenever I wanted, and I rarely restrained myself. If I wanted to peek at Phoebe Kelly’s bakery, that’s what I’d do.
The first pass showed the bakery empty save for Phoebe and a man at the counter. He was paying for his coffee, nothing unusual or suspicious, yet my hackles rose the moment I spotted him.
None of my business.
I didn’t go looking for trouble anymore. In fact, I stayed as far from it as possible. Going back to prison wasn’t an option.
Forcing my feet forward, I made it half a block before turning back. Trust didn’t come easy to me these days. A rough childhood had wrung most of it out of me, and four years behind bars had taken the rest. Made me suspicious of every shadow and wary of the intentions of strangers—I’d heard enough from other inmates to give me every reason.
I’d been hoping it was just my paranoia, but the sight through the shop window made my blood run cold. Phoebe was pinned against the counter, her wrist trapped in the man’s grip. Even from the outside looking in, it was plain to see she didn’t want this guy anywhere near her, let alone touching her.
Instinct took over. Yanking open the door, I crossed the room in a few long strides, grabbed the back of his jacket, and hauled him off her with a guttural growl.
Taken by surprise, he went down easy, ass on the floor in a flash. Phoebe’s whimper struck me deep in the gut, but I didn’t dare look at her. If she was hurt, if he’d done something unforgivable…nah, I couldn’t go there.
I planted myself in front of her, blocking his view. “You put your hands on her?”
The guy scrambled to his feet, glaring. “What’s it to you, dickhead?”
“You don’t put your hands on a woman.” My fists were tight at my sides. It’d been a long time since I’d used them, but I was ready for him.
“We were havin’ a chat, brother. A private conversation.” He sneered, peeling his coffee-soaked shirt away from his chest. “Don’t appreciate you spilling my drink.”
Sliding my eyes to the side, I addressed Phoebe. “You want to talk to him?”
“I don’t,” she stated, her voice firm.
“You heard her. Get out,” I said evenly.
He didn’t move.
I knew guys like this one. Bigger than he had any business being, eyes conveying how dirty and mean he was inside. He was taller and heavier than me, probably crazier too. He wouldn’t like that I’d taken him down, and I could already tell he wasn’t going to let it go.
“Not finished here.”
His body tensed, his stance shifting. I recognized the tell a second before he charged and caught him around the neck, locking his big head under my arm. He flailed, getting some jabs in that’d surely smart later, but I wasn’t feeling them much at the moment.
Our legs got tangled in all his chaos, sending us both tumbling. He landed with a thud, and I rolled over him, his shirt tight in my grip, my knees pinning his arms down. He bucked under me like a wild bronco, trying his mightiest to get me off.
The things he hollered wouldn’t have bothered me if they’d been aimed at me, but he’d turned his head to shout obscenities at Phoebe. Ugly names. Hideous accusations.
I couldn’t let it go on. Not for another second.
The first punch snapped his attention back to me. As soon as I had it, I jumped up and jammed my steel-toed boot into his ribs—once, twice, three times. By the fourth, he wasn’t yelling anymore. He was crawling, headed toward the door.
I’d have gone after him if not for Phoebe throwing herself in front of me. “Deacon, stop. He got the message. Now, you need to stop. You can’t do anything to get yourself in trouble.”
She reached out, wrapping her fingers around my forearm. “Don’t, please,” she whispered.
The haze of violence began to clear, but black still edged my vision. The bells above the door jingled, and we both turned as the bastard bolted out into the street.
All my instincts screamed for me to run after him, but Phoebe’s soft fingers stroked my arm, holding me in place.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine. It’s over. He’s gone now.” She lifted on her toes, her eyes filled with urgency. “I don’t want you tangled up in this.”
“Do you know him?”
She shook her head. “Not really. His friend asked me out, I turned him down, and…well, he wasn’t happy about it.”
My jaw was rigid, but I managed to bite out, “You gonna call the cops now?”
Phoebe didn’t appear shaken. Of the two of us, I was the one worse for wear. She seemed steady, quietly mulling over my question. If I’d been asked to guess how this soft, pink woman would have reacted to being treated roughly by a man, it wouldn’t have been this. Instead of tears and wobbly knees, she had pushed her shoulders back and taken deep, calming breaths.
Her guileless eyes found mine. “I don’t want them looking at you when you did nothing wrong. You protected me, but I don’t know if they’ll see it that way.”
I wasn’t a big fan of the law, but this woman needed more than me on her side. Chances were, the coward wouldn’t be back, but having a more concrete guarantee would help me sleep easier at night.
“Doesn’t sit right with me. Call ’em”
Her eyes bounced over my face. “Are you sure?”
I nodded once. “Do it.”
She released a heavy breath. “All right, but you were never here. I’ll tell them I chased him away with a rolling pin.”
I blinked at her. “A rolling pin?”
Cheeks flushing prettily, she waved. “Baker here. It’s my weapon of choice. They’ll buy it.”
A minute ago, I’d been ready to run. Now, I was hesitating. Leaving her alone didn’t feel right, especially when I’d spilled the drops of blood on the floor.
But I couldn’t go back…
“You sure?” I choked out.
She nodded, resolute. “Absolutely. If you got in trouble, I’d never forgive myself.”
That got me moving. I was out the door and around the corner when what she’d said really hit me. Phoebe didn’t want me to go back. She knew I’d been in prison.
She’d also called me Deacon, and I was positive I’d introduced myself as Deke.
I sank down to my ass between two buildings, my back against a cold brick wall, and flexed my hand. It wasn’t too bad. My boots had taken the brunt of the hits.
Christ, what am I doing?
I was not a violent man by nature, even if my actions said otherwise. Every time I had to use my fists, I swore it killed a part of me. I didn’t feel good about hurting anyone, even assholes who probably deserved it.
Knocking my head against the brick, I closed my eyes as my heartbeat settled. I’d get up in a minute. As soon as I was sure it was over.
No idea how long I sat there, waiting. Long enough for the cops to come and go. I climbed to my feet as a woman in a puffy black coat passed by, not believing what I was seeing.
Phoebe was walking herself home after dark. What the hell was she thinking?
I shouldn’t have stuck around, didn’t really know why I had, but since I’d made that choice, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in step behind her. Far enough she wouldn’t know I was there, but close enough to do something if needed.
She took her time, waving at a few people, saying hi to others, everyone enthusiastic about seeing her. It was no surprise Phoebe Kelly was the town’s sweetheart. It served as a good reminder of how deep the divide between us was. No one would have been glad to see me if they’d known who I was.
She turned onto our street, and I picked up my pace, uneasy at losing sight of her. She had a car. It was parked in our shared driveway. There was no reason for her to be walking to and from work in the dark. Especially tonight. Why wasn’t she afraid?
I hurried around the corner, exhaling when I spotted her retreating back. She was hurrying toward home, oblivious to me following her. She needed to pay better attention. Hadn’t she learned her lesson?
Tonight, it was me.
Tomorrow, it could have been someone much worse.
She reached the stairs running along the side of our house. Five steps took her to her front door, but she didn’t climb them. Instead, she stopped and swiveled around, finding me between the pools of light spilling from the streetlamps.
“I made it,” she announced. “You could have walked with me, Deacon.”
Not so oblivious after all…
With a defeated sigh, I closed the distance, boots echoing on the quiet sidewalk, hands firmly tucked in my pockets. “Just making sure you made it home safe.”
She didn’t look like a woman who’d been through anything out of the ordinary only an hour ago. Her eyes were lively, and her smile was soft, gently curving, plump, pink lips.
“Safe and sound.”
“You okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine, honestly.” She paused, looking me over in a slow, curious perusal. “Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
I tapped the front of my boot on the ground. “Steel toes. Didn’t feel a thing.”
“I’m glad.” She shifted the canvas bag hooked over her arm and continued her thoughtful examination. It didn’t make me uncomfortable to have her look at me the way she did, but I wondered what she was thinking since it was clear a lot was going on inside her mind. “I told the cops the rolling pin story. They don’t know you were there.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You helped me when you didn’t have to, Deke. This was my thank-you.” She nodded toward the pink box peeking out the top of her bag. “Ordinarily, I’d thank you with baked goods too, but that won’t work with you, will it?”
I shook my head and chuffed.
“You didn’t have to lie for me.” I bet Phoebe Kelly had never lied once in her life. A short time around me, and I’d tarnished her. “I wish you hadn’t.”
“It’s done. No sense in dwelling on it.” She shrugged like it was nothing. “This won’t come back to bite you. You’re free and clear.”
I wouldn’t be free and clear for a long time. Another year of parole if I walked the straight and narrow, but that was no guarantee. I’d lived a clean life before everything happened, and that hadn’t kept me out of prison.
It was easier if I didn’t think about that. I set my mind on the problem in front of me—the one I could do something about.
“It’d be better if you weren’t alone at your shop. Safer.”
Phoebe’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You sound like my brother. I’m never going to hear the end of it when I tell him what happened. If I thought I could get away with not mentioning it, I would.”
“But nothing stays quiet around here,” I filled in, noticing she hadn’t agreed with me about not being alone.
“That, it doesn’t. Are you headed upstairs now?”
I shrugged. “Nowhere else to be.”
She moved from foot to foot, letting her bag slip from her elbow to her fingers. “Well…if I thought you’d accept, I’d tell you you’ve earned free coffee and pastries for life.”
“Not necessary. Anyone would’ve stepped in.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She plucked her keys from her pocket and smiled softly. “But the fact is, you did. Let me be grateful. You’re my personal hero, Deacon.”
My gut knotted with discomfort. I turned my head, jerking my chin. “If that’s what you need, all right.”
I was nowhere near a hero, but if Phoebe Kelly wanted to make me one in her mind to feel safer, she could. My hands were empty. That was one thing I could give her.