Truck Hard (Mutter Brothers)

11. Embers of the Past

Chapter 11

Embers of the Past

Liam

C harlie’s face contorts with seething rage as I stand between him and Hannah, placing myself as an immovable barrier. My blood pounds in my ears, every muscle tense and ready. The urge to lash out—to make him pay for every bruise, every tear, every scar, every moment of fear he’s inflicted—burns through me like wildfire. But I hold myself in check. Barely.

“Get out.” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. Behind me, I feel Hannah trembling, hear her rapid breathing. The knowledge that he’s reduced her to this state again makes my vision blur red at the edges.

My brothers move closer, ready to jump in and help. We move as one unit, a wall of protection between this monster and the woman he’s tormented for far too long.

“The cops are on their way!” Mac’s voice rings out as he runs across the yard. Good. Let them come. Let them see Charlie violating the restraining order. Let them drag his sorry ass back to jail where he belongs.

Charlie’s eyes dart between us, calculating. His carefully maintained facade cracks further, revealing the ugly truth beneath.

“You think you can intimidate me?” He snarls, but I catch the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze as he takes in the solid line of Mutter brothers arrayed against him. “I have rights—”

“Rights?” The word tastes like acid in my mouth. “You lost any rights you had when you laid hands on Hannah. When you terrorized my son.”

“ Your son?” Charlie’s laugh is sharp and bitter. “That’s rich, coming from the man who abandoned them both. Where were you when he was growing up, huh? Where were you when—”

The crunch of gravel outside cuts him off. Through the open door, I see a sleek black car pull up—Charlie’s parents.

Great . Just what we need—the political powerhouses of Pike County arriving to shield their precious boy from the consequences of his actions. Again.

Charles Sr. and Linda Fisher step out of the car with the practiced grace of people accustomed to commanding attention. They sweep up the walkway like royalty approaching peasants, their expensive clothes and perfectly coiffed appearance a stark contrast to the working-class setting.

“Charlie.” Linda’s voice cuts through the tension like a steel blade wrapped in silk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Charlie’s posture changes instantly—shoulders straightening, chin lifting. Even now, after everything, he’s still their obedient son seeking approval. It’s pathetic.

“Mother, I—”

“Save it.” Charles Sr. steps forward, his presence filling the small entryway. His cold gaze sweeps over us before settling on Hannah with naked disdain. “This situation has gone on long enough. You’re coming with us. Now.”

“But—”

“She’s not worth it.” Linda’s lip curls as she looks at Hannah. “She never was. Just a gold-digger who trapped you with another man’s child. We’ll fight her in court.”

The words are harsh and so far from the truth it only feeds my anger more. I feel Hannah flinch behind me, and something in my chest breaks. How many times had she endured this kind of casual cruelty? How many times had these people torn her down while pretending to welcome her into their family?

“Watch your mouth.” Warren growls, taking a threatening step forward. I put out a hand to stop him, though every fiber of my being wants to let him loose.

“Or what?” Charles Sr.’s smile is cold and knowing. “You’ll attack us? Please. Do try. I’m sure the governor would be very interested in hearing about how the Mutter boys assaulted a respected family in their own community.”

The threat hangs heavy in the air. They have power—real power—and they know how to use it. One word from them could destroy everything we’ve built, everything we’ve worked for.

“Charlie.” Linda’s voice suggests she will not tolerate his disobedience a moment longer. “Come. Now.”

Charlie hesitates. His gaze locks with Hannah’s, and I see something dark and promising flash in his eyes. A warning. A threat. This isn’t over .

Then he turns and follows his parents out like a well-trained dog. The sight should be satisfying. But I know how dangerous he is when his pride is wounded. He’ll be back. The only question is when.

We watch them drive away—Charlie in his car and his parents in theirs—the expensive cars kicking up dust as they disappear down the street. Only then do I let out a breath in relief. Some of the tension finally bleeds from my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” I turn to Hannah, gently gripping her shoulders. She’s pale but steady, her eyes clear despite the fear I can still see lurking in their depths.

“I’m fine,” she says, but her voice shakes slightly. “I just... I didn’t think he’d actually come here. Not so soon.”

Before I can respond, the familiar sound of Ricky Warner’s patrol car approaching draws our attention. The local cop pulls up in his cruiser, Elvis hair perfectly coiffed despite the early hour. In any other situation, his appearance might be amusing—the small-town cop who thinks he’s the King—but right now, I’m just grateful for his presence.

“What’s the situation?” Ricky asks as he approaches, notepad already in hand. His eyes scan the scene, taking in the clustering of Mutter brothers and Hannah’s obvious distress.

“Charlie Fisher showed up.” I explain, keeping my voice level despite the rage still simmering beneath the surface. “Violated the restraining order. Forced his way in. Threatened Hannah.”

Ricky’s expression darkens. “Did he lay hands on you, ma’am?”

Hannah wraps her arms around herself, a defensive gesture that makes my heart ache. “He... he pushed Cam. And he had me cornered against the wall. Punched holes in it.”

“Cam?” Ricky’s pen pauses. “Is he alright?”

“I’m okay.” Cam’s voice comes from behind us, small but determined. “I ran to get help when Mom told me to.”

Ricky nods approvingly. “Smart move, kid.” He turns back to his notepad. “I’m going to need statements from everyone. Walk me through exactly what happened.”

For the next hour, we recount the morning’s events in painful detail. Hannah’s voice stays steady as she describes Charlie’s arrival, his threats, the way he forced his way inside. They way he backed her up against the wall and punched holes in the drywall level with her face. My brothers fill in their part of the story—Cam’s arrival at the shop, our rush to Hannah’s aid. Through it all, I stand close to Hannah, offering silent support as she relives the trauma.

“And then his parents showed up?” Ricky confirms, flipping to a new page in his notepad.

“Yeah.” Warren’s voice is tight with controlled anger. “Swept in like they own the damn place. Practically dared us to do something about it.”

Ricky’s expression grows troubled. “That complicates things.”

“How so?” I demand, though I already know the answer. We all do.

“The Fishers…” Ricky pauses, choosing his words carefully. “They have influence. Lots of it. Charles Sr. was a congressman, and they’ve got the governor’s ear. Makes things difficult.”

“So what?” Christian snaps. “Charlie violates a restraining order and gets away with it because his daddy knows people?”

Ricky holds up a placating hand. “I didn’t say that. I’ll file the report, put in for an arrest warrant. But—” He sighs heavily. “Don’t be surprised if things move slower than they should. Or if certain charges get reduced or dismissed.”

The injustice of it burns in my gut. Charlie should be in handcuffs right now, headed back to the cell he never should have left. Instead, he’s probably sitting in his parents’ mansion, plotting his next move while they use their connections to shield him from consequences.

“What about Hannah?” I ask, forcing myself to focus on what matters most. “How do we keep her safe?”

“Document everything.” Ricky advises. “Every contact, every threat, every time you see him anywhere near you. Get security cameras if you can afford them. And...” He hesitates, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe consider staying somewhere else for a while. Somewhere he won’t think to look.”

“No.” Hannah’s voice is firm despite her pallor. “This is my home. I won’t let him drive me out again.”

Pride and worry war in my chest at her declaration. Her strength amazes me, but the thought of her here, vulnerable to Charlie’s next attempt, terrifies me.

“Then we’ll figure something else out,” I say, meeting her gaze. “Whatever it takes. You won’t face this alone.”

Ricky makes a few more notes, promises to file the report immediately, and heads out. As his cruiser disappears around the corner, the adrenaline that’s been keeping me going starts to fade, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

“Are you really okay?” I ask Hannah softly, reaching for her shoulders again. The warmth of her skin under my palms grounds me, reminds me that she’s here, she’s safe. For now.

She exhales shakily, some of her careful composure cracking. “I-I didn’t think...” Her voice catches. “He just showed up, like he still had the right to. Like nothing had changed.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” I tell her, fighting the urge to pull her closer. “But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and I won’t let him near you again.”

Her eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination that makes my heart ache. The weight of our shared history—the love we once had, the years lost to fear and misunderstanding—hangs heavy between us.

But now isn’t the time to untangle that complicated web. Now is the time to focus on keeping her safe, on being the protector I should have been all those years ago.

My brothers hover nearby, their presence a silent reminder that we face this as a family. That Charlie may have money and political connections on his side, but we have something stronger—the unbreakable bonds of blood and loyalty. No matter what.

I look at Hannah, at the woman who’s endured so much yet still stands tall, and make a silent vow. This time will be different. This time, I won’t let fear or doubt drive me away.

This time, I’ll fight for what matters most.

My brothers file out of Hannah’s house, their heavy boots echoing on the worn wooden porch. I catch Warren’s eye as he passes—he gives me a slight nod, understanding without words that I’m staying behind. That I need to stay behind. Hannah’s still trembling, though she’s trying hard to hide it. I won’t leave her alone. Not after what just happened.

The screen door creaks shut behind them, leaving the three of us in a heavy silence. Hannah stands near the wall where Charlie had cornered her, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Cam hovers between us, his young face etched with worry far beyond his years.

“Did I—” Cam’s voice cracks. He swallows hard and tries again. “Did I do the right thing? Going to get you?”

The fear in his voice cuts straight through me. This boy— my son —shouldn’t have to question whether protecting his mother was the right choice. Shouldn’t have to carry that burden at all.

“Yes,” Hannah and I say in unison. I move closer to Cam, wanting desperately to ease the anxiety I see in his eyes. “You absolutely did the right thing, buddy.”

“But what if...” He glances at Hannah, then back to me. “What if you being here makes Charlie worse? He’s going to hurt Mom again. I heard what he said.”

The protective rage that surges through me is almost overwhelming. I crouch down to Cam’s level, meeting his gaze directly. “Listen to me. I won’t let that happen. If Charlie ever lays a hand on your mom again, I’ll kill him.”

“Liam!” Hannah’s sharp tone cuts through the air. “Don’t talk like that.”

I don’t look away from Cam. I won’t sugar-coat this. Won’t make empty promises. “I mean it. If he hurts either of you again, he’s done for. No matter what it takes. I don’t care what happens to me. I will keep you both safe.”

Cam stares at me for a long moment, searching my face. Whatever he sees there must convince him I’m telling the truth because suddenly he launches himself forward, wrapping his arms around my neck in a fierce hug. The force of it nearly knocks me back, but I catch myself, wrapping my arms around his small frame.

The emotion of the moment hits me hard. This is my son. My son . Hugging me for the first time. Trusting me to protect him and his mother. Tears burn behind my eyes as I hold him close, one hand cradling the back of his head.

“I’m here,” I whisper roughly. “I’m not going anywhere. You need anything— anything —you know where to find me.”

He squeezes tighter for a moment before pulling back. His eyes are suspiciously bright, but his chin is lifted with determination.

“Good,” he says firmly. Then, without another word, he turns and heads for the stairs.

Hannah watches him go, worry creasing her forehead. “He’s been spending so much time in his room lately, playing those games. I’m scared he’s using them to hide from everything that’s happening.”

I stand slowly. “Maybe—” I hesitate, not wanting to overstep but knowing I need to try. “Maybe he could visit my house sometimes? Get to know my brothers and Grams? They’d love to spend time with him too.”

Hannah’s head snaps toward me, surprise and vulnerability warring in her expression. “You mean that?”

“Yeah.” I step closer, unable to resist reaching out to gently caress her cheek. “I do.”

She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed. The simple gesture of trust makes my heart clench. After a moment, she nods. “Okay.”

I pull her into my arms, savoring the way she fits against me, the way she gradually relaxes into my embrace. I’ve lost so many years, let so much come between us. But standing here now, holding her close while our son plays games upstairs, I can feel the pieces of my life finally sliding into place. I hope she feels it too.

“Thank you,” she whispers against my chest. “For being here. For wanting to be a part of his life.”

“I should have been here all along.” The guilt and regret threaten to choke me. “If I’d known—”

“Shh.” She pulls back just enough to look up at me. “You didn’t know. Charlie made sure of that. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers. Her hands fist in my shirt, holding on tight. We stand like that for a long moment, breathing each other in, letting the weight of everything that’s happened settle around us.

Finally, Hannah sighs and steps back. “I should check on him.”

“Want me to come with you?”

She shakes her head. “No, I think... I think he needs some time to process everything. But maybe tomorrow? If you’re not too busy at the shop?”

“I’ll make time.” The words come out fierce with conviction. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere.”

A small smile touches her lips. “I believe you.”

I watch her climb the stairs, my heart so full it feels like it might burst. The sound of her soft knock on Cam’s door drifts down, followed by the murmur of their voices.

My family. The thought hits me like a lightning bolt. They’re my family, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. To be a part of their lives even if it takes me the rest of my life to do it.

Charlie’s threat hangs in the air like smoke, but I push it aside. He can try whatever he wants. This time, I’m ready. This time, I won’t let him hurt the people I love.

I settle onto the worn couch, prepared to wait as long as needed. Hannah and Cam are safe upstairs, but I’m not leaving until I’m absolutely certain Charlie won’t try coming back.

Let him try. He’ll find me waiting.

The house creaks and settles around me, full of memories both old and new. I remember climbing the old oak tree by the side of the house and sneaking in through Hannah’s window when we were teenagers, stealing kisses in the hallway, dreaming of a future together. We were so young then, so full of hope and possibilities.

Now here we are, older and scarred, but maybe... maybe those possibilities aren’t completely lost. Maybe we can build something new from the ashes of our past. Something stronger. Something unbreakable.

I close my eyes, letting the sounds of Hannah and Cam moving around upstairs wash over me. Whatever comes next, I won’t let her face it alone. Never again. And God help anyone who tries to tear us apart.

Above me, Cam laughs at something Hannah says. The sound fills the house with warmth, chasing away the lingering shadows of Charlie’s presence. I smile, settling deeper into the couch.

This is what I want. What I always wanted. A home filled with laughter and love. If I’m lucky, if she lets me, someday this will be my normal.

The creaking of the stairs draws my attention. Hannah descends slowly, her expression thoughtful. She pauses on the bottom step, studying me. “You don’t have to stay, you know. We’ll be okay.”

“I know you will be.” I pat the couch beside me. “But I want to stay anyway. For a little while longer. If that’s alright with you?”

She hesitates a moment before crossing to join me. The couch dips as she sits, close enough that our shoulders brush. “Charlie won’t come back today. His parents won’t let him out of their sight for a while.”

“Probably not.” I agree. “But I’m not taking any chances.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I never wanted this for Cam. All this violence and fear. I thought... I thought I was protecting him by staying with Charlie. Because I knew Charlie wouldn’t let me go so easily. He hates losing. Even the things he doesn’t really want.”

Her words are almost painful to hear. “Hannah.”

“I convinced myself it was better this way.” She takes a deep breath. “That Charlie could give him opportunities despite the truth. That if I could just tolerate his abuse until Cam was older, that he’d be better off.”

I want to interrupt, to tell her none of this was her fault, but I force myself to stay quiet. To let her get it all out.

“But I was wrong. So wrong.” Her voice cracks. “All I did was trap us both in a nightmare. And now Cam’s paying the price. He’s had to grow up so fast, become so strong. He shouldn’t have had to be strong like that. Not at his age.”

I reach over, taking her hand in mine. Her fingers are cold, and I rub them gently between my palms. “You did the best you could with an impossible situation. And Cam... yeah, he’s had to deal with things no kid should face. But look at him, Hannah. Look at how brave he is. How protective and caring. That’s because of you.”

She shakes her head. “He’s like that because of you. He has your heart.”

The simple statement steals my breath. “I wish—” I have to stop, clear my throat. “I wish I’d known. About him being mine. I would have—”

“Would have what?” She turns to face me fully. “Married me instead of pushing me away? Fought Charlie for custody? We were so young, Liam. And you were dealing with so much—taking care of your brothers, the shop—”

“None of that matters.” I grip her hand tighter. “I should have fought for you. Should have seen what kind of man Charlie really was. Should have—”

“Stop.” She pulls her hand free, but only to cup my face between her palms. “We can’t change the past. What matters is now. What matters is that you’re here, that you want to be part of Cam’s life. That’s all I ever wanted for him.”

I lean into her touch, drowning in the warmth of her eyes. “I want to be part of both your lives. If you’ll let me.”

Her thumb traces my cheekbone. “I’d like that.”

The moment stretches between us, heavy with possibility. I want to kiss her. Want to pull her close and never let go. But it’s too soon. She’s still raw from Charlie’s visit, still processing everything that’s happened.

Instead, I turn my head slightly, pressing a kiss to her palm. She shivers, but doesn’t pull away.

“We’ll figure this out.” I promise. “All of it. Together.”

She nods, slowly lowering her hands. “One day at a time?”

“One day at a time.” I agree.

We sit in comfortable silence, shoulders touching, listening to the muffled sounds of Cam’s game upstairs.

It feels peaceful. Right.

“Tell me about him?” I ask suddenly. “What was he like growing up?”

A smile touches Hannah’s lips. “He was such a happy baby. Always laughing, always curious about everything. He started walking early. Couldn’t wait to explore the world. And he was so stubborn.” She laughs softly. “Just like you.”

Pride and grief war in my chest. I missed so much. His first steps, first words, first day of school. “Keep going?”

She settles more comfortably against me, head resting on my shoulder. “He loved cars from the moment he could recognize them. Used to line up his toy cars in perfect rows, organizing them by color. I always wondered if he got that from you—that attention to detail.”

“Probably from you.” I counter. “You were always the organized one.”

“Mm, true.” Her voice grows softer, reminiscent.

Above us, Cam’s game continues, the faint sounds of virtual combat drifting down. I make a mental note to ask him about it later, to show interest in the things he enjoys. To start building the connection we should have had all along.

I have no clue how long we sit there, but at some point Hannah falls asleep at my side. Eventually, I fall asleep as well, only waking when I hear the creak of the stairs.

Cam comes down to get a bite to eat, but I don’t move. Hannah needs her rest and I’ll sit here all day if that means she gets it.

Eventually the sun rises high in the sky, painting the room in a soft white glow and Hannah stirs. She sits up quickly rubbing her eyes.

“How long did I sleep?” She looks around the room, her nose wrinkled as she takes in the bright light.

“I didn’t want to make you,” I say, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together.

“Would you...” Hannah hesitates. “Would you like to stay for lunch? Or early dinner? It won’t be anything fancy. I’m not even sure what I have to cook. But—”

“I’d love to.” The words come out perhaps too quickly, too eagerly, but I don’t care. “Need any help?”

She smiles—a real smile that lights up her whole face. “You still remember your way around this kitchen?”

“Some things you never forget.” Like the way she used to dance while cooking, how she’d hum under her breath, how she’d always sneak tastes of whatever she was making.

“Good.” She stands, still holding her hand in mine. “Then come help me feed our son.”

Our son . The words send a thrill through me as I let her pull me to my feet. This is really happening. This is my family.

My chance to make things right.