Chapter 15 You're Safe With Me
"So, this pretty new bride—can she make sugar cakes?"
A few men loitered at Mason Reed's doorstep, leering at Clara Bennett with sleazy grins.
Onlookers gathered nearby, but these thugs were notorious around Willow Creek—local bullies no one dared cross. People just watched, detached.
Blame Clara Bennett for being too beautiful, they figured, or Mason Reed for being careless, leaving a stunner like her alone at home. It was practically an invitation.
Clara Bennett's heart pounded, her face paling, but she fought to stay composed.
"Heard this bride's some rich girl, huh?"
"No wonder—spoiled heiresses don't cook. Sugar cakes? Fat chance!"
"New girl, you don't know the rules around here, do you?"
The thugs' eyes practically glued to her.
"Here in Willow Creek, a new wife's gotta bake sugar cakes and hand them out to every house! You've been married days now, and we haven't tasted a crumb..."
"Sorry, I didn't know about that," Clara Bennett said, straining to keep her voice steady. "I'll make them and bring them over. My husband's coming back soon, so please..."
She moved to shut the gate, but one guy jammed his knee against it. The other two hooted, egging him on. Clara Bennett's hands shook as they shoved the gate open, barging into the yard, their gazes dripping with greed.
"Never thought that punk Mason Reed would score this kind of luck!"
The men practically drooled.
Revulsion churned in Clara Bennett's gut. She crossed her arms protectively, eyeing them warily.
"This is my house—get out!" she snapped, raising her voice. "My husband's almost here! You know what he's like!"
The men exchanged looks, breaking into nasty laughs.
"Oh, we know! The coward who bolts when a fight starts!"
"Sweetheart, you don't get it, do you? Mason Reed used to be a total pushover—every time we scrapped, he'd take the fall and end up in lockup!"
"Shame we missed your wedding—should've crashed it! No fun for the newlyweds back then, so how about we make up for it today?"
They closed in, one reaching out to grab her. Clara Bennett recoiled, fear spiking, but then she flashed back to Mason Reed pummeling the sandbag in the yard.
She'd never fought, only watched, but in that split second, some wild courage surged up. Mimicking him, she swung her fist at the thugs like they were punching bags—hard!
The men flinched, caught off guard, but her defiance only stoked their twisted excitement.
"Ooh, a feisty one!"
Clara Bennett snatched a stick from the yard, brandishing it with fierce resolve.
"Get out—now!"
"Little lady, that's not gonna work!" one sneered. "Swing that wrong, and you'll hurt yourself. Let your big brothers show you how it's done!"
Tears pricked Clara Bennett's eyes—fear, panic, helplessness knotting tight in her chest, choking her.
The thugs grew bolder, two of them grabbing her to drag her inside...
But then—BAM!—the gate slammed open with a thunderous crash!
Before they could react, two of them took heavy blows to the head. Clara Bennett stood frozen, gaping as the once-arrogant thugs crumpled to the ground, clutching their skulls and groaning in pain.
Mason Reed's towering figure loomed against the doorway's light, his face cold, eyes sharp, radiating an aura of quiet fury.
The tears Clara Bennett had held back burst free the moment she saw him.
She threw herself into his arms, and he gently stroked her hair.
"You're safe now. I'm here."
Mason Reed guided her inside, telling her to lock the door.
Clara Bennett obeyed, but he didn't follow. From within, she heard muffled thuds and the men's howls of agony.
Peeking through the window, she saw the thugs sprawled across the yard, battered and bruised, kneeling and begging for mercy.
Blood speckled the muddy ground.
Mason Reed wasn't done. He grabbed the stick she'd wielded and smashed it down on one guy's leg...
"Next time you mess with my wife, it won't just be your leg I break!" His voice was low, each word laced with menace.
The thugs scrambled out, tripping over themselves in terror.
Clara Bennett hid behind the door, her heart racing, breath ragged.
When Mason Reed stepped inside, she saw the dried blood on his clothes. Her lips parted, but no words came.
"Scared you back there?" He approached, resting a big hand on her shoulder.
Clara Bennett shook her head, then reached out, wrapping her arms around him, her face pressed to his chest.
Her small, clinging frame softened something in Mason Reed.
"You're tougher than I thought," he said with a faint chuckle. "Taking on those creeps with a stick?"
"What else was I supposed to do?" She looked up, her face a mix of defiance and charm. "No one around would help, and you weren't here. I had to fake some courage..."
"Fair point. My fault—I should've stayed with you," Mason Reed said quietly. "But I doubt they'll try again."
Clara Bennett nestled into his chest, a soft laugh escaping.
Her hand brushed his brick-like pecs, his taut, solid frame sending her pulse racing.
He really could fight—three hits, two kicks, and they were down.
So why'd they call him a coward before?
"Go wash up and change," she said, eyeing him. "I'll start dinner."
Mason Reed nodded, squinting at her with a curious look.
Clara Bennett blinked. "What? Something on my face?"
"Nah," he smirked. "Just... you're not what they said."
"Huh?"
"Before we married, everyone said the Bennett heiress was spoiled, hot-tempered, useless around the house. But you keep this place spotless, cook like a pro, and handle trouble without losing your head..."
Mason Reed leaned in, his smile teasing. "Makes me wonder if you're really Evelyn Bennett."
Clara Bennett's face paled, her eyes locking onto his. Her lips twitched into a strained, awkward grin.
"I... I'm Evelyn, of course," she stammered, tucking her hair behind her ear, eyes darting away. "Rumors are just that—rumors. Don't listen to them. I'm the Bennett heiress—you married the right girl!"
Mason Reed let out a genuine laugh this time.
No rush. He could wait.
He'd wait for the day she'd come clean.
Clara Bennett spun toward the kitchen, but a sharp knock rattled the door.
"Mason Reed, you home?"