Chapter Five #3
Andy took a couple of steps back, startled by the sight of the giant in his club colors blocking his view inside the building.
For a moment, Andy looked afraid. His eyes got wide, and I could actually see a sheen of sweat appear beneath the lights in the parking lot.
Then the calculation began. He smiled. “What ‘cha got there, Penny? You get your own goon squad now? That’s cute.”
He shifted, catching sight of me behind Tiny’s bulk.
Then he looked up at the larger man. “You really think this muscle-bound retard’s going to keep you safe?
” he jeered. “You think I don’t know how to get through a bunch of dumb, criminal bikers?
That’s who you’re trusting with my daughters?
” He looked back at me. “Let me see my daughters. You owe me that much.”
Tiny’s voice was so calm it barely seemed real. “Go home. You’re not getting in tonight. Or any other night.”
Andy sneered. “Is that what this is about? You think you can scare me with your bulk and your attitude, fat motherfucker? I could buy and sell you, you piece of shit.” Then Andy shifted tactics, dropping his voice and trying to sound reasonable.
“Penny, be sensible. You know this isn’t a good look for you.
The judge isn’t going to like it if you keep my children from me.
I’m not the enemy. I just want to work things out.
” His eyes flicked back to Tiny, and then he laughed.
“Jesus Christ. Penny, you realize who you’re dealing with, don’t you?
Ask any cop what happens to women who hang around biker gangs.
You think you’re escaping a nightmare, but you’re just walking into a worse one. ”
My hands shook, but I held my ground. The world had taught me that men like Andy always got their way, always talked their way back in, but right now I had a wall of muscle and stubbornness between him and us.
Tiny didn’t move. He waited until the only sound was Andy’s heavy breathing as he looked at me.
Finally, Andy seemed to give up, but I didn’t need his warning to know it was only a temporary retreat. “This isn’t over,” he snarled, turning away. “You’ll regret this, Penny. You will.”
He stalked back to his car. As I watched the taillights retreat down the road, my whole body trembled so hard I thought I’d collapse. Tiny didn’t look at me right away. He waited until the sound of the engine faded, then turned, his eyes searching my face. “You good?”
I let out a laugh that was closer to a sob. “Not even close,” I whispered. “But I will be.”
He reached out, as if to touch my shoulder, then seemed to think better of it and let his hand fall. “If you want to hit something, I can get you a pillow,” he said softly.
I snorted, surprised at the absurdity of the offer, and a real laugh broke through the haze of fear. “Sounds like really good therapy.”
He nodded, then jerked his chin toward the elevators. “Let’s get you back to your girls.”
I followed, numb but moving, and didn’t even notice until we were halfway to my floor that he was walking just behind me the whole way.
I wanted to turn and say thank you, but the words stuck in my throat.
If I spoke now, I knew I’d break down in front of this man, and I couldn’t do that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Once inside the apartment, Kira was already in bed, curled around Mr. Hoppers, but Zelda was waiting in the dark by the window, watching the street. She saw me come in and asked, “Did he go away?”
“For now,” I said, and knelt beside her. “We’re safe. Tiny made sure.”
She nodded, pressing her face against my shoulder. “He doesn’t scare easy, does he?”
“Who, Tiny?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s not afraid of Dad.”
“He really isn’t,” I confirmed with a small smile. “Let’s get some sleep. Violet said Caleb was coming by in the morning to take you down for breakfast if you and Kira want to go ahead.”
“I like it here, Mommy.” Zelda spoke softly, sounding almost vulnerable. “No one’s scary to us. Only to people like Dad.”
“I know, baby. I like it here too.”
Zelda wrapped her thin arms around my waist, and we hugged each other for a long time before she let me go.
Then she went to bed, but in her sister’s room.
No doubt she’d sleep in there for several days until she felt certain the threat was over.
Zelda would always protect her sister. No matter what.
As I passed by Kira’s room, I heard her ask softly, “Can we leave the bathroom light on tonight?”
I moved into the doorway. “Of course, sweetheart.” I kept my tone light.
“He’s not coming in,” Zelda said with conviction. “Tiny won’t let him.” OK, Zelda caught me off guard with that one. When had my fiercely suspicious daughter developed such faith in the giant biker?
“You’re right,” I agreed, surprising myself with how much I meant it. “Tiny and Knight and the others will keep us safe.”
Kira nodded solemnly. “Tiny promised. He doesn’t break promises.” Christ, this girl. Kira was only twelve, but she could read people better than any adult I’d ever met. Sure, she played like a kid sometimes, but she was growing up too Goddamned fast, and I had mixed feelings about it.
Once the girls were in bed, I lay awake in my own bed, staring at the ceiling as sleep refused to come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Andy’s face, his perfect hair and expensive clothes masking the monster I knew lurked beneath.
I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket tighter around me.
When we first met, Andy had seemed like salvation.
A stable, successful man who wanted to take care of me and my twin girls.
After struggling alone, working multiple jobs while being a new mother to twins, his attention had felt like the biggest relief.
Now, I realized how carefully he’d groomed me, how patiently he’d waited until I was fully dependent before the mask began to slip.
Until the first full-blown rage that left me cowering in a corner, wondering what I’d done wrong.
By then, my friends were gone, my independence surrendered, and my self-worth so eroded I believed I deserved everything he wanted to dish out.
I closed my eyes, but the darkness only made the memories sharper.
I forced myself to focus on something else.
Something good. My mind drifted to Tiny, standing between Andy and the door, immovable as a mountain.
In the weeks since we’d arrived at Haven, I’d watched him with my daughters.
The careful way he held himself when they were near, the gentle rumble of his voice when he spoke to them, the genuine care in his eyes when Kira had that panic attack.
The image of him sitting cross-legged on the floor, letting the girls drape tinsel over his massive shoulders, flashed across my mind.
He’d been gentle as he steadied the card tower for Zelda.
When Kira offered him Mr. Hoppers, that sacred threadbare rabbit she barely let out of her sight, he’d cradled it with such reverence, understanding the trust implicit in her simple gesture.
Andy’d never understood my daughters. They were possessions to him; extensions of himself when it suited him, annoying inconveniences when it didn’t. But Tiny saw them. Really saw them, their fears, their needs, their small, brave hearts.
I shifted again, restless with conflicting thoughts.
Wasn’t this how it’d started with Andy too?
Hadn’t I once thought he saw me when nobody else did?
The fact that I was lying here, considering trusting another man after everything, made me question my own judgment.
What if I was making the same mistake? What if the warm safety I felt around Tiny was just another trap waiting to spring?
But something deep inside me rejected the comparison.
Andy had isolated me from day one, subtly cutting me off from friends and family, positioning himself as my sole protector.
Tiny did the opposite. He facilitated connections.
Like with Violet and the other women at Haven, and the entire support system of the club.
Andy had demanded control. Tiny offered choices.
Andy used my fears against me. Tiny acknowledged them without judgment and promised to protect me from them.
I traced my finger over the faded twin stars tattooed on my wrist, remembering the day I’d given them to myself. Sixteen and terrified, with newborn twins and no idea how to be a mother. I’d been determined to mark my body with this permanent symbol of my love for them.
I couldn’t go back to Andy -- that much was clear.
Even if the club, Haven, and Tiny himself all disappeared tomorrow, I’d sleep in my car, under bridges, in shelters across the country before I’d take my daughters back to that house.
But running forever wasn’t a life. The girls deserved stability, safety, normal childhoods if such a thing was even possible after what they’d been through.
Maybe Tiny was our best hope for that. Not because I needed a man to protect us.
I’d learned the hard way depending on someone else for safety was its own kind of trap.
But because he represented something I’d thought was a fairy tale.
He was a good man who used his strength to shield rather than to harm.
I checked the door one more time, making sure the electronic lock and the deadbolt were both engaged.
On impulse, I pressed the security monitor to look outside the room.
There, on the other side of the hall directly across from our door, Tiny stood guard between us and whatever came next.
The knowledge settled over me like a blanket, heavy and warm and real.
I remembered that hug, how safe I’d felt in his arms. I wanted to feel that safety again.
I had no idea if he was interested in me beyond friendship, but the more comfortable I grew with Tiny, the more I wanted to be around him.
Tiny had promised to watch over us. I wasn’t sure if it was a hero complex or Zeus Instinct, but I thought I might need to find out if that kiss affected him the same way it affected me.
Was I stupid for even thinking about getting involved with not only another man, but an ex-con to boot?
Possibly, but I didn’t think so. There was too much proof to the contrary.
Sleep beckoned at last, and I surrendered to it. My last conscious thought was that Tiny could keep us all safe. And, if he was willing, I would let him.