Safe at Home (Warm Springs Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

“Take your time, darlin’. I’ve got all day,” the male voice dripped with sarcasm.

After searching the living room and kitchen, she finally remembered she had hidden the key in the coat closet. With a jerk, the front door swung open and she stood face to face with an impatient looking man wearing tight blue jeans, an old T-shirt, and a faded baseball cap.

“It’s you,” her voice rose to that of an overexcited cheerleader.

“It’s me,” he said in a mocking tone. “Now that we have that cleared up.”

“No, I mean, I saw you the other day. You’re the guy who was leaning against the pickup parked on the town square. You waved to me.”

“Glad I made such an impression.”

She shook her head to make room for a coherent thought. Of all the people in the town, he was the one she’d least expected to see at her door this morning. And, the only one who could make her feel uneasy with a look. “Sorry about the confusion. I forgot to set my alarm. Do you want to come in?”

“That sounds like a good idea since I’m not sure how much longer this old porch is going to be able to hold me up.” He stepped over the threshold forcing Sam to shrink back. He towered over her. “The name’s Spencer.”

“Sam. We can talk in the kitchen. That’s the only place I’ve had time to fix up and put together. Can I offer you some orange juice?” Sam poured herself a glass.

“No, thanks. I already ate breakfast this morning. At a decent hour.”

Sam’s shoulder’s tensed. There was that sarcasm again. What a riot he was going to be the next few weeks or months, God forbid. Sam slid into the chair across from Spencer, and froze. She’d been too flustered when answering the door to realize how attractive he was, and she’d only seen him from a distance, through the café window at the hotel. His face was weather worn and tan. His jaw strong and his eyes emerald green.

Then it dawned on her what she must look like. She tried to push her hair back out of her face, but it was useless. Oh dear God, and her breath. Casually, Sam covered her mouth with her hand. Hopefully, he couldn’t smell it from across the table.

“Well, are we going to talk shop? I’ve got some other errands to run today, so if you don’t mind.”

She shook her head and flipped through the pages of notes on the table in front of her. “Of course. I have a list of things I’d like to accomplish. Obviously, as you’ve already pointed out, I need a new porch. I would also like to paint the entire outside of the house and fix the backyard,” Sam began to tick off projects on her fingers. “I need new carpet and I was thinking about updating the master bathroom. The previous owners didn’t do a lot of updating.”

“That all sounds reasonable. Is there anything else?” His gaze strayed to her legs as she crossed them.

“Well, the list seems to grow every day, so it’s possible. How about pay, Spencer? What do you usually charge?” She shifted in her seat, trying to remain professional, but the way he was looking at her made it hard to concentrate.

“I usually work by the hour, but since you’ve got a lot of work that needs to be done, we can settle on an overall estimate.” Spencer flipped open the cover on his tablet and remained quiet a few moments while he typed notes and then numbers in for each project. With a nod, he turned the screen toward Sam.

She studied the number, trying to keep her eyes from popping out of her head. She’d known owning a house would be expensive, but this was beyond what she’d planned for.

“One minute, please.” She pulled her own tablet out of her purse sitting on the table beside her and did some quick math. She might have to cut, or at least wait to do, one or two of the projects. “What if I do the painting on the new porch? How much would that save me?”

He leaned his elbows on the table, tapped his screen a few times and turned it toward her again without commenting.

She adjusted her numbers. It wasn’t much of a difference, but it would help. She bit her bottom lip and dared a glance at Spencer. He was eyeing the back door. She thought again about what Earl had said about Spencer being the best in town and more than fair. She hated to think someone else might be more expensive. She dropped her gaze back to her own screen and took a deep breath. “I believe we have a deal.” She’d make it work, somehow. “When can you start?”

“I just finished up a job, so how about tomorrow?”

She nodded.
Tomorrow.

Spencer stood up, shook her hand and all but ran for the door. Her smile faltered. She must have looked scarier than she thought.

Chapter 2

The sun warmed his skin as he stood with his face turned upward. It had been too long since he had looked at the sky as a free man. He took a few steps away from the chain link fence separating him from life inside the prison. After one final drag of his cigarette, his nerves were calm, but his mind raced.

Nine months, and for what? Sending a couple letters. Looking in a couple windows. At least that was all they could prove. And, that was nothing. Not compared to what she did to his family, his mother.

He never thought her crazy boss would stand up for her and file a report with the cops. He would be more careful next time. And, there
would
be a next time. Being inside had served its purpose, and he wasn’t looking to go back. He had plenty of time to refine and finalize his plans for her during his time at the Chicago State Penitentiary.

He dropped the butt of his cigarette on the sidewalk and ground it into the cement with the tip of his shoe. She deserved to suffer as his family had suffered. She wasn’t the one who had to listen to his mother cry, hour after hour, night after night, for more than a year. She’d walked away untouched.

He spotted his mother across the lot and staring off into the distance. She almost seemed peaceful as she waited to pick him up. But given a closer look, he knew she’d be the same as before he went in. Tired, sad, and old for her age. Anyone would, who had survived what she had.

He adjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder. As he walked toward his mother, he thought about how they had ended up alone. He was the result of a one-night stand his mother had when she was seventeen. She worked long hours as a waitress to support them for years, and they got by. Then, she met Joe. A fast-talking car salesman who moved in with the two of them after a few months.

Joe had been okay at first. At least his mother had seemed happy and that was something. About a year after Joe moved in, his mom found out she was pregnant. Joe was supportive and acted as though he was as excited as she was about the baby. Then one morning, he went to work and never came back.

There they were again, just the two of them against the world.

A few months later his mom gave birth to a little boy with blond hair and sea green eyes, and for some reason, this little person gave them hope.

His mother found a job with a cleaning company and he started working at odd jobs the way kids do. They were a family. They took care of each other.

For exactly seven years.

Then, Jason was taken away from them.

After that, his mom went a little crazy. She lost her spark, and then her job. Her days were spent staring out the window as if she were still watching her little boy playing in the yard.

He wasn’t enough for her, and the day he’d realized it would forever be etched in his mind. She needed Jason, her baby, her hope. She needed to hear his laughter and to hug him. She needed his face to remind her of happier times. But, those days were gone. They died with the little blond haired boy.

When he climbed into the old rusted Buick, he could tell nothing had changed. His mother looked at him now with a strained smile and gave him a quick hug. She still smelled of stale smoke, undoubtedly still smoking two packs of Slims a day. She’d lost weight, too.

The ride home was silent, each lost in their own thoughts, but as his mother parked the car, the rage began to bubble inside him. It did every time he looked at his mother and the small apartment she’d been forced into. They owed her more than that. Some small settlement didn’t begin to make up for her loss. The money would’ve lasted longer if she hadn’t turned to drugs, but she said it was the only way she had any peace from her own mind.

The memories of that night were all she thought about. The blood on her hands as her baby boy lay dying in her arms. She didn’t sleep for fear she would have to relive that night in the bank. He had done his best for her, but there was only so much he could do with a nearly finished high school education and a criminal record.

The apartment was the same as it had been the day he left. The wallpaper in the kitchen half peeling off of the walls and the sink full of a week’s worth of dishes. The smell of smoke followed his mother around and filled the apartment with a lingering haze. He swallowed his urge to hit a wall and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He knew, somewhere inside, his mother loved him, but she was different now. When he got in trouble with the law, she didn’t care. She let him be his own man.

Later that evening, they ate dinner together on TV trays, not speaking, while they watched old game show reruns. Staring down at them were the pictures of Jason that littered the mantle. They were painful, but his mother refused to take them down. In her mind, Jason would come into the room at any moment, and with his infectious laughter, they’d be okay.

He had to stop this. Pushing his tray away, he stood. He needed to escape to his room. He was suffocating. The sadness threatened to overwhelm him, but he wasn’t his mother. His sadness was followed by rage. And, he knew how to make those feelings go away.

He pulled the drawer open in his bedside table and took out the knife he’d left there. The familiar groves in the handle fit against his hand perfectly. He fell back onto his mattress and twisted the knife in the air, allowing muscle memory to take over. He rested the tip of the blade against his palm and pressed until a bead of dark red appeared. He smiled.

Before long it wouldn’t be his blood coloring the end of the knife. It would be hers. The girl who had ruined his life.

Chapter 3

Three weeks later, Spencer sat in his usual Saturday afternoon spot next to his brother, Jake, and listening to the announcer. Spencer let his shoulder muscles relax as the sun beat down on his exposed neck. “
And now, it’s Tommy Davis to bat. It’s a swing and a miss. Here comes the next pitch, and here we go, a nice hit by Davis.”
The parents in the stands went wild as Tommy surged toward first base.

“How’re things going over at Dad’s place?”

“They’re going. It needs a lot more work, but it’s coming along. The new girl has some good ideas.”

“She does, does she? And, how might the lovely Sam be doing?”

“Shut up, Jake.”

Jake continued to grin at his brother.

“I mean it. Lay off.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised slightly at Spencer’s tone. “What’s wrong little brother? Did you finally meet a girl that isn’t flattered by your charm?” Jake laughed and hit him on the back.

His comment was followed by an icy stare from Spencer. The banter was suddenly blown off as the next batter headed for home plate.

“Hey look, Alex is up. Let’s go, Alex.” The little boy walking to the plate was the spitting image of Jake when he was that age. Other than getting his mom’s blond hair, Alex looked every bit like a Malloy. He was small for his size, but he was fast. He proved it when he got a hit on his third try. This time, Jake and Uncle Spencer were as loud as all the other cheering parents, both standing tall, beaming with pride.

Aside from taking his brother’s abuse, Spencer loved days like this. Spending time at a little league game, then eating a laidback dinner at Jake’s house was his idea of a Saturday well spent.

After Alex’s team won, all three Malloy’s piled into Spencer’s truck and talked nonstop about the game on the way to Jake’s house. Alex took off for the door as soon as the truck came to a full stop. He bounded into the kitchen and started telling his mother all about his team’s victory.

Jake cut in long enough to scoop his pregnant wife into his arms and give her a quick kiss.

“Hey, stop that. That’s how I keep getting fat.” She teased her husband, giving him a slight shove.

“You’re not fat. You’re beautiful.”

“For now, maybe. We’ll revisit that little remark in a few months.” She winked.

Watching the two of them always put a smile on Spencer’s face. They reminded him of his parents. So in love with each other. Even when his dad ruffled his mom’s feathers, it was never for long.

“Hello, Ann. It smells delicious, as always.” He wrapped her in a quick hug. “When are you going to dump this loser and run away with me?”

“But, what would happen to all the other girls? Their hearts would be broken.” Ann grinned at him and released him from their hug. “Now why don’t you boys go have a seat? Dinner will be ready in a few.”

“Well, little brother,” Jake dropped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I think that’s our cue to leave.” The men headed for the living room to cool off and drink some of Ann’s sweet tea.

Just as Spencer was getting comfortable in front of the game on television, Jake broke their silence. “So, what do you really think of Sam Parker?”

“Christ, Jake. Are we on that again?”

“Stop being cranky. I was just asking. I’ve only met the girl once, but she seemed nice and, if memory serves, she wasn’t too hard on the eyes.”

“She’s nice, okay? Now, are you satisfied? Your assumption was correct.” Spencer turned away from his brother and focused on the sports announcers, but his mind wandered to Sam. His brother had a point. Sam wasn’t hard to look at.

“Very funny, Spencer. I mean what’s she like? Why did she move here?”

“Well, let’s see. I have no idea why she left the city and the only thing we ever talk about is the house. She’s always working inside and I’m outside.”

“Well, that’s boring.” Jake leaned back in his chair.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Spencer cut his gaze toward his brother. “You do realize you sound like one of those nosey old women from church?”