25. Willing to Fight
Chapter 25
Willing to Fight
Liam
T he numbers on the spreadsheet blur together as I stare at my computer screen, unable to focus on the auto shop’s monthly expenses. My mind keeps drifting to Hannah, imagining her facing Charlie alone in that courthouse conference room. The urge to protect her claws at my chest, making it hard to breathe.
She needs to do this herself . I remind myself for the hundredth time. She needs to prove she’s strong enough.
Still, the thought of Charlie anywhere near her makes my blood boil. That bastard spent thirteen years systematically breaking her down, making her believe she was worthless. And now she has to sit across a table from him, maintaining her composure while he probably smirks that entitled rich-boy smirk of his.
“Earth to Liam!” Warren’s voice cuts through my brooding. He’s leaning against my office door frame, arms crossed. “You planning to actually work today, or just glare holes in your computer screen?”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Yeah, yeah. Just trying to make sense of these numbers.”
“Uh-huh.” He pushes off the door and saunters in. “Nothing to do with Hannah being at the courthouse right now?”
“Maybe.” I minimize the spreadsheet I haven’t looked at in twenty minutes. “I should be there with her.”
“She said no.” Warren drops into one of my visitor chairs. “Multiple times, if I remember correctly.”
“I know.” The words come out more frustrated than I intend. “But Charlie—”
“Is in jail.” Warren interrupts firmly. “With guards and lawyers present. He can’t hurt her.”
“You don’t know him like I do.” The memory of finding Hannah unconscious in her driveway after Charlie’s last attack still haunts me. “He doesn’t need his fists to cause damage.”
Warren studies me for a long moment. “You can’t protect her from everything, man.”
“Watch me try.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
“And there it is.” Warren leans forward, suddenly serious. “You’re doing that thing again—trying to carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” He cuts me off again. “Just like you did our entire lives. Taking care of all of us, making sure the shop stayed afloat, being everyone’s rock. But Hannah isn’t one of your kid brothers who needs looking after. She’s a grown woman who needs to find her own strength.”
The truth in his words stings. “I just… I can’t lose her again.”
“You won’t.” Warren’s voice softens. “But you have to let her fight her own battles sometimes. Otherwise, you’re just another man trying to control her life.”
“Yeah, I know.” I admit. The last thing I want is to be another source of pressure in Hannah’s life. She’s had enough of that with Charlie.
A commotion from the garage draws our attention. Through my office window, I can see Ash and Mac arguing over something while Chase eggs them on. Some things never change.
“Come on.” Warren stands, jerking his head toward the door. “Let’s go see what those idiots are fighting about now. Better than watching you brood.”
I follow him out to the garage floor where Ash has Mac in a headlock while Chase doubles over laughing. Christian watches from the sidelines, trying not to smile.
“What’s going on out here?” I demand, falling easily into my role as eldest brother.
“Mac’s being a dick,” Ash says, tightening his hold while Mac flails.
“Am not!” Mac protests. “Ash is just mad because I said his custom paint job looks like a five-year-old did it!”
“It does not!”
“Does too!”
“Jesus Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are you twelve?”
“Technically,” Chase pipes up, “they’re sharing one brain cell, and it’s Ash’s turn with it today.”
That sets everyone off laughing except Ash and Mac, who both flip Chase the bird in perfect sync. Even I can’t help cracking a smile. My brothers might be idiots sometimes, but they never fail to lighten the mood.
“Alright, break it up.” I wade in to separate Ash and Mac. “We’ve got actual work to do.”
“Spoilsport,” Ash grumbles, but he releases Mac.
Mac straightens his shirt with exaggerated dignity. “I still say that paint job looks like shit.”
Before Ash can lunge at him again, Warren steps between them. “How about you both shut up and get back to work before Liam has an aneurysm?”
That gets their attention. They all know I’ve been on edge lately, worried about Hannah and the hearing. My brothers exchange glances before dispersing back to their respective projects, though I notice they keep shooting concerned looks my way.
I head back toward my office, but Christian catches my arm. “Hey. She’ll be okay, you know. Hannah’s tougher than any of us gave her credit for.”
Coming from Christian, who usually keeps his thoughts to himself, the words carry extra weight. “Yeah.” I manage. “I know.”
“And if Charlie tries anything—” He leaves the threat hanging, but I can see the protective fire in his eyes. My brothers may give me shit, but they’ve all grown to care about Hannah and Cam.
Back in my office, I try again to focus on the paperwork, but my eyes keep drifting to my phone. No messages yet. The hearing should be coming to an end.
Please let her be okay.
The morning drags by in a blur of distracted work and constant phone checks. My brothers do their best to keep me occupied, bringing me random questions about repairs or “accidentally” creating problems that need my attention. I appreciate the effort, even though I see right through it.
Around noon, Mac sticks his head in. “Lunch run to Frank’s. You want anything?”
“Nah.” My stomach is too twisted with anxiety to even think about food.
“Wasn’t really asking.” He comes all the way in. “You need to eat something besides coffee and worry.”
I start to protest but the look on his face stops me. My youngest brother might be a daredevil on the racetrack, but he’s got a caring streak that rivals Grams.
“Fine.” I surrender. “But nothing heavy.”
“One rabbit food special, coming up.” He grins and disappears.
I turn back to my computer, determined to at least pretend to work, when my phone buzzes. My heart leaps into my throat as I grab it, nearly knocking over my coffee in the process.
Hannah.
It’s over. Court ruled in our favor. Charlie has no more rights to Cam.
The relief that floods through me is so intense it makes me dizzy. I quickly type back.
Liam
Thank God. Are you okay? Do you need anything?
Hannah
I’m fine. Will tell you everything tonight. But we won, Liam. We really won.
The way she said we hits me right in the gut. She’s including me in her victory. I read the messages three more times, letting the reality sink in. Charlie can’t hurt them anymore. Can’t use the courts to maintain his control over Hannah. Can’t poison Cam’s life with his toxic presence.
My phone buzzes again.
Hannah
Have to go. Lawyer called and needs to go over some paperwork. See you tonight?
Liam
Absolutely. Just tell me when and where.
Hannah
My place? Around 7?
Liam
I’ll be there.
I set the phone down, noticing my hands are shaking slightly. It’s really happening. Justice is finally being served.
“Good news?” Chase’s voice makes me jump. He’s leaning in my doorway again, holding what looks like a transmission.
“Yeah.” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Court ruled in Hannah’s favor. Charlie’s lost all rights to Cam.”
“About damn time.” The smile that covers his face is almost as big as mine. “Now maybe you can stop wearing a hole in the floor with all your pacing.”
“I don’t pace.”
“Please.” He rolls his eyes. “You’ve been like a caged tiger all morning. Either staring blankly at that computer screen or pacing. We were taking bets on when you’d snap and drive to the courthouse anyway.”
“I wouldn’t—” I start to protest, then stop because honestly? I probably would have.
Chase just grins knowingly. “So when do you see her?”
“Tonight.” I try to sound casual but fail miserably.
“Ah.” His grin widens. “Hence the dopey smile.”
“I do not have a dopey smile.”
“You really do.” Mac appears behind Chase, holding bags from Frank’s. “It’s kind of disgusting actually.”
“Don’t you two have work to do?”
“Lunch first.” Mac tosses me a wrapped sandwich. “Doctor’s orders.”
I unwrap it to find my usual—turkey on wheat with extra tomatoes. “Since when are you a doctor?”
“Since I diagnosed you with a severe case of lovesickness.” He drops into the chair opposite my desk. “Only cure is food and relentless teasing from your brothers.”
“Lucky me.” But I take a bite of the sandwich anyway, suddenly realizing I’m starving.
Chase steals my other visitor chair while Mac launches into a story about some customer who tried to convince him that duct tape was an acceptable alternative to actual car repairs. I let their familiar banter wash over me, grateful for the distraction.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of actual work now that the weight of worry has lifted somewhat. My brothers keep me busy with legitimate repairs that need my attention, and I manage to make decent progress on the monthly expenses.
Around six, I notice everyone starting to pack up for the day. Chase and Christian head out first, arguing good-naturedly about whose turn it is to pay for the beer for their weekly pool game at Posey’s. Ash follows soon after, mentioning something about meeting Clara for dinner though he seems oblivious to the way her name makes him smile.
Mac’s the last to leave, pausing in my doorway. “You good?”
I look up from shutting down my computer. “Yeah, why?”
He shrugs. “Just checking. It’s been a big day.”
Sometimes I forget how perceptive my youngest brother can be. “I’m good. Really.”
“Okay.” He hesitates. “Tell Hannah… tell her we’re all glad it worked out. And that Cam’s welcome at the track anytime. Kid’s got natural talent.”
“I will.” The pride in my chest threatens to overwhelm me. My son. My son .
Mac leaves and I finish closing up the shop, my mind already racing ahead to tonight.
I need to shower and change before heading to Hannah’s.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Chase was right—I do have a dopey smile.
But you know what? I fucking earned it.
Taking a deep breath, I grab the bouquet of wildflowers sitting on my bed— nothing fancy, just something I picked from the backyard on impulse when I walked home from the garage. Hannah always loved wildflowers more than roses anyway. Another detail I never forgot about her, even after all these years apart.
The walk to her front door feels both too long and too short. My boots sound heavy on the wooden steps of the porch. I stop in front of the door and adjust the collar on my shirt. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am.
Before I can knock, the door swings open. Hannah stands there in jeans and a soft blue sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders the way I love it. The sight of her steals my breath for a moment, just like it always has.
“Hi,” she says softly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I don’t even try to resist the urge to pull her into my arms. The flowers get slightly crushed between us as I wrap her in a tight embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of her. She feels so right against me, like she was made to fit there.
A chuckle vibrates through her chest. “I’m okay, Liam. Really.”
“Yeah?” I pull back just enough to study her face, searching for any signs of distress. But her eyes are clear and bright, lacking the shadows of fear I’ve grown too used to seeing there.
“Yeah.” Her smile widens as she spots the somewhat mangled bouquet. “Are those for me?”
“What’s left of them,” I say ruefully, holding out the flowers. “Sorry about that.”
“They’re perfect.” She takes them, bringing them to her nose to inhale deeply. “Come inside? Dinner’s almost ready.”
I follow her into the house, drinking in the domestic scene before me. The kitchen is warm and fragrant with whatever’s cooking in the oven. School books are scattered across the dining room table—evidence of Cam’s homework session. It feels like home in a way that makes my chest ache with longing.
“So?” I can’t wait any longer. “How did it go?”
Hannah sets the flowers in a mason jar with water, taking her time arranging them just so. The suspense is killing me, but I force myself to be patient. Finally, she turns to face me.
“With the test results confirming that you’re Cam’s biological father,” she says. “the court approved removing Charlie’s name from the birth certificate and adding yours, once you formally acknowledge paternity.”
“Consider it done,” I say with a huge smile. Even though I’ve known the truth for months now, having it officially confirmed feels monumental. Life-changing. Everything-changing .
A sound from the doorway makes us both turn. Cam stands there, practically vibrating with barely contained energy. Before I can process what’s happening, he launches himself at me in a fierce hug that nearly knocks me back a step.
“Does this mean I’m a Mutter now?” he asks, voice muffled against my chest.
Hannah’s laugh is soft and warm. “That’s up to you, sweetie. You can keep your name as is, change it to Baumann—my maiden name—or take Mutter. It’s your choice.”
Cam pulls back to look at me, his eyes— my eyes—serious and determined. “I want to be a Mutter.”
The tears hit me without warning, burning behind my eyes. I try to blink them back but it’s useless. One escapes, trailing down my cheek as I pull my son closer.
My son . After all these years of regret, of what-ifs… here he is. Choosing me. Wanting my name. Wanting to be part of my family.
“You sure about that, buddy?” I manage to ask, voice rough with emotion. “The Mutters are kind of a rowdy bunch. Lots of expectations to live up to.”
He grins up at me, that familiar mischievous spark in his eye. “I think I can handle it. Besides, Uncle Christian already promised to teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”
“He what now?” Hannah’s voice rises sharply.
“When he’s older.” I assure her quickly, shooting Cam a look that clearly says we’ll discuss this later . “Much, much older.”
The timer on the oven beeps, saving us from that particular conversation. Hannah moves to pull out what looks like a lasagna while Cam and I set the table. Being here with them like this makes my heart swell. This is what I want. Not just keeping them safe, but building a life together. A real family.
As we sit down to eat, I can’t stop stealing glances at them both. Hannah, who’s slowly learning to trust and love again despite everything she’s been through. Cam, who’s shown more courage and resilience than any twelve-year-old should have to. They’re both so strong, so brave.
And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure they never doubt how much they’re loved.
“Earth to Dad.” Cam’s voice breaks through my thoughts. The word ‘Dad’ sends another jolt through my system. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. “Can you pass the garlic bread?”
I hand over the basket, watching as he piles his plate high. He’s hit a growth spurt lately, eating everything in sight just like I did at his age. Another trait he got from me, along with the dark hair and eyes.
“So what else happened at court?” I ask Hannah between bites. “Charlie didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
A shadow crosses her face briefly before she shakes it off. “He tried. But James, my lawyer, shut him down pretty quick. The judge agreed that given his recent behavior, any visitation rights should be terminated. The child support payments will stop since he’s not legally Cam’s father anymore, but the alimony stays in place.”
“Good,” I say firmly. “After what he put you through, he owes you that much at least.”
“His parents weren’t too happy about it.” She continues with a slight smirk. “Especially when James pointed out that their political connections couldn’t help them this time. Too much evidence against Charlie, too many witnesses.”
Pride swells in my chest at the strength in her voice. This is the Hannah I remember from before—fierce and unafraid to stand up for herself. Charlie might have buried that part of her for a while, but he couldn’t destroy it completely.
Dinner continues with lighter conversation—Cam’s baseball practice, Hannah’s work at Frank’s, the latest pranks my brothers have pulled at the shop. But underneath it all, I can feel something shifting. Something fundamentally changing in the way we relate to each other.
After we finish eating, Cam helps clear the table before disappearing upstairs to finish his homework. Hannah starts filling the sink while I get a towel to dry after she washes. This has become our routine. We work in comfortable silence for a while, shoulders brushing occasionally in the small kitchen.
“Thank you,” she says suddenly, so quietly I almost miss it.
“For what?”
“For being you. For not pushing me to move faster than I’m ready to go. For loving Cam.” She keeps her eyes on the dish she’s scrubbing. “For loving me even when I couldn’t love myself.”
My throat tightens with emotion. Setting down the pan I’m drying, I gently turn her to face me. “Hannah, look at me.”
She does, those beautiful eyes swimming with unshed tears.
“You don’t have to thank me for any of that.” I tell her firmly. “Loving you—loving both of you—is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m going to keep doing it for as long as you’ll let me.”
“Even though I’m broken?” The vulnerability in her voice breaks my heart. “Even though I still have nightmares and panic attacks and days when I can barely function?”
“You’re not broken.” I cup her face in my hands, willing her to believe me. “You’re healing. And I’ll be here for all of it—the good days and the bad ones. However long it takes.”
A tear spills down her cheek and I brush it away with my thumb. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispers.
“You deserve everything good in this world.” I counter. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”
She leans into me then, pressing her face against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as she trembles slightly. We stand like that for a long moment, just breathing together, until the trembling stops.
“Stay?” she asks softly, not lifting her head. “Tonight?”
My heart rate kicks up at the question. We’ve spent nights together before, but it still feels momentous every time she asks. Like another piece of her trust being placed in my hands.
“Are you sure?”
She nods against my chest. “I sleep better when you’re here. Safer.”
“Then of course I’ll stay.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Always.”
She looks up at me and I cup her cheek again.
I lean down and brush my lips against hers, soft and sweet at first. She sighs into the kiss, her body melting against mine. The familiar taste of her, the way she fits perfectly in my arms, sends heat coursing through my veins.
My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer as I deepen the kiss. She parts her lips, inviting me in, and I take full advantage. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, claiming her with growing intensity. A small whimper escapes her throat, the sound driving me wild.
I press her back against the counter, one hand tangling in her hair while the other grips her hip. The kiss turns hungry, desperate, filled with all the longing and need I’ve been holding back. She matches my passion, her fingers clutching my shirt as she arches into me.
“Fuck, I missed this. Missed you.” I growl against her lips, barely recognizing my own voice. “Mine.” The possessive word slips out before I can stop it, but Hannah doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she kisses me harder, nipping at my bottom lip in a way that makes me groan.
I pour everything I feel for her into the kiss—all the love, protection, and fierce devotion I’ve carried for years. Her hands slide up my chest to wrap around my neck, pulling me even closer as if she can’t get enough.
The small kitchen fills with the sound of our ragged breathing and soft moans as we lose ourselves in each other.
When we finally break apart, we’re both panting and desperate for more. And if she lets me, I’ll hold on for dear life and give her everything I’ve got to give. I’ll never stop giving her what she needs.
Because that’s what you do when you find something worth fighting for. You hold on with both hands and never let go.
Tomorrow we’ll face whatever new challenges come our way. But tonight, I have everything I need right here in my arms.
And I’m never letting go again.