Click Here to Return to Homepage for A Good Read

The Other Side of Fear

By: Dorothy McFalls

June 2004

Dorothy McFalls [dorothymcfalls@att.net] lives in a small island community in South Carolina and has been writing non-fiction for more than six years as an urban planner. She has recently given up her career to pursue her first love, fiction.

Look for her Signet Regency Romance, The Marriage List, to appear on bookstore shelves in May 2005!!

“‘Til death do us part, baby.”

The satiny smooth voice Jasmine once thought sexy reached through the phone line and dripped poison in her ear.

Five states, six different houses, a name change, and two years had brought her here to this cozy saltbox home just a block off the Byrontown’s downtown in Wisconsin. It had seemed enough...more than enough. “It’s over, Grant. The divorce papers should have made you understand. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“You want free of me?” His voice was eerily calm like he’d rehearsed these words every day while waiting. Anticipating. “You’re mine ‘til death...And that’s exactly what you deserve.”

She slammed the phone into the receiver. Her heart was leaping, trying to break free from her chest.

He’d found her. God, how?

“Danny!” He’d been playing up in his room with two of his friends. He was safe, she reminded herself. Safe...for now. “Danny, come down here right now!”

The police? She should call them, but how could a restraining order stop a man hell-bent on killing? It had never helped her before

She gathered up all their important papers. It wouldn’t take long to fill the car with their clothes and a handful of their most important belonging. They’d lose the rest. But it was the only way. All she could do now was run. And keep running this time.

“M-mom?” The nine year olds’ eyes wavered as he stood in the doorway to the den, hugging his skinny arms against his chest. She had an urge to scoop him up and sooth him, but they didn’t have time.

Grant could come breaking down the door at any time. There was no telling where he was calling from. He could be on a cell phone just outside the house. She brushed aside the curtains and peered out the window. The quiet tree-lined street was empty.

“Tell your friends they have to go home, now.” She closed the laptop computer and reached behind the desk to unplug it. “We’re leaving.”

“You talked to--to Dad?” Just over two years ago he’d watched as his father slammed her head against the tile kitchen floor until she was soaking in her own blood and barely conscious.

That was the day they’d run--for the second time.

“Your father knows where we are,” she said, still tossing whatever looked important into a cardboard storage box. “We’ve got to go. You do understand that?”

Danny took a shaky breath while tears spilled onto his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Mom. I understand.” He ran upstairs.

Jasmine went back to her packing. There would be time enough for hugs and comfort once they were safely miles away from this town.

* * *

Brian dragged the sheriff’s hat from his head and squeezed it between his fingers as he stared at the rose-colored front door, not quite ready to knock. On the way to the courthouse today he’d stumbled across a memory that reeked with regret.

It couldn’t be her. They hadn’t seen each other for nearly ten years. And he’d been living in Florida at the time.

Not ready to be a man yet, he’d left her even though they loved each other--fled, really--because she wanted more than he’d been ready to give. What a damned fool.

This couldn’t be the same woman. Her hair was a shiny blond, not the bouncy brown she’d once sported, and she looked thinner. Much thinner. Yet, when he saw her for that brief moment, there was a stirring of recognition. A feeling nagging his gut.

Later that afternoon, he’d asked the courthouse clerk, Mrs. Bailey, about the woman who’d stirred those feelings of recognition. Of course Mrs. Bailey knew her. Her brother recently rented her a house.

“What was her name?” Mrs. Bailey asked herself while tapping the end of her beak-like nose. “A southern flower...Magnolia? No, no, Jasmine...Jasmine Hart.”

His heart had tumbled into his boots.

Same first name.

“She has your last name,” Mrs. Bailey had blurted. “Is she a relative?”

No. Not a relative. A lover. A former lover, with a new last name. She could have married, though Mrs. Bailey had insisted she had no man with her.

Married and divorced? To a man with his last name?

The what-could-have-been’s plagued Brian all afternoon until he found himself here, on this woman’s doorstep. Frozen.

The door swung open. A pile of clothes with a person buried somewhere underneath came shooting out and smacked into his chest. Clothes scattered on the porch like leaves falling from a tree. The petite blonde he’d seen downtown turned her icy blue gaze up toward him. Crushing terror shined bright in those eyes. All the pale pink color drained from her delicate face.

“It’s you,” he wheezed. What felt like a fist seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat.

She pressed her trembling fingers to her glossy lips and simply blinked. “Oh, God...”

“Mom?” A gangly boy with blond curls and a face nearly identical to Jasmine’s stepped into the doorway. He had a small, bulging suitcase clutched in one hand and a Gameboy in the other. His mossy green eyes, eyes very similar to the shade of Brian’s, echoed the fear and confusion shining in the icy blue of the boy’s...the boy’s...

The boy’s mother?

“Jasmine? This is your son?”

“Mom? Who is this man?” The suitcase bounced against the rug as the boy drew his hand into a fist. He puffed out his chest and tried to step out onto the porch in front of Jasmine. She held her arm out, keeping his small body behind her.

“Brian Hart,” she said. His name sounded rusty on her lips.

Brian’s gaze kept traveling back to the boy. The child looked to be nine or ten. Brian’s breath grew faster and shallower as he did the math. He’d left her ten years ago. Disappeared like a heartless bastard in the middle of a humid Florida night. There would have been no possible way she could have found him to tell him.

A son? He had a son?

He rubbed his stubbly chin and shook his head. Tears felt frighteningly close to his eyes. “Is this really what it looks like, Jasmine? Is this my child?”

Her petal soft mouth remained tightly sealed. She looked too stunned to do much more than stare. The boy peered around his mother’s legs, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“I shouldn’t have run away from you like I did all those years ago.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as panic poured into him. “I-I’m here now. I’m ready to be a...a father.”

A heart-shattering sob tore from her throat. She threw herself into his arms.

* * *

Jasmine knew she didn’t have time for an emotional breakdown like this, not with Grant on his way to kill her. Why did it have to happen like this? For ten years she’d clung desperately to the dream that Brian, her carefree surfer boy, would one day return and pledge his love.

He looked more mature, and it wasn’t just the police uniform. His dark brown hair was bluntly cut. The green of his eyes looked deeper, more somber. His body was fuller, stronger. She could feel his strength as he crushed her into his embrace.

Over the past ten years he’d become the man she’d always loved. And hearing him say the words she had dreamed of hearing broke through all her defenses. The circumstances in which this reunion had happened, though, ripped her heart right out of her chest.

Shedding silent tears was the only thing she could manage while she buried her head in the warmth of his shirt. She held on to his very real body while the familiar piney scent of him pulled long repressed memories tumbling forward. A gentle hand stroked her hair as he uttered meaningless, soothing words. His lips touched the top of her head.

Danny hugged her legs. She pressed her eyes tightly closed wishing to change things...wishing Brian was Danny’s father. Not Grant.

“It’s okay, Jazzy.” His gentled voice chased a tremor of longing down her spine. “I’m here for you now.”

His warm lips brushed hers lightly, tentatively. She tilted her head up, seeking more than the chaste kiss he was offering when he pulled back. His hands remained on her shoulders, like he was holding her up. Her legs felt so watery perhaps it was his strength that was keeping her from collapsing into a heap against the door’s metal threshold.

His gaze raked her body, lingering on her blond hair, before turning to the pile of clothes she’d dropped. He frowned.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

Her gaze bobbed from the clothes, to the car, to the empty street, and back to Brian’s expression. It oozed with suspicion. “N-nothing,” she said. “Just putting some things into storage. We--we’re in a hurry.”

He released her arms. She only dipped a little before her muscles kicked in with adequate support.

“Is that so?” he sounded so unlike the carefree Brian she once loved and very much like an officer of the law.

“Yes.” She knelt down and began scooping up her scattered clothing, keeping her gaze from meeting his. “Danny, go put your stuff into the car.”

Danny picked up his little bulging suitcase, hugging it to his chest. He paused as he passed Brian. His jaw tight with frustration and fear, his cheeks red, he spoke rapidly. “We’ve got to go, sir. Mom’s in danger. He’s coming to kill her.”

Brian’s cop gaze narrowed. He squatted, putting himself eyelevel with Danny. “Who is coming?”

“Get in the car,” she told Danny. They didn’t have time to peel open this squirming can of worms. If Grant found her here with the sheriff, he’d be furious. He might hurt both her and Brian. She needed to get some distance between them and this house Grant had discovered.

Brian’s hand curled around Danny’s shoulder. Danny fidgeted, his body tight with anxiety. “Wait. Tell me who your mom is running from.”

“No one,” Jasmine said. She’d managed to get her pile of clothes back into her arms.

“My dad,” Danny said.

* * *

Brian took a sip of the herbal tea his sister had brewed. It was supposed to calm his nerves. It wasn’t working.

Cheryl, his sister, had sprung into action like a mother hen when he showed up on her doorstep unannounced with Jasmine and Danny in toe. She’d fawned over all of them, like they were lost puppies, and had insisted on taking Danny upstairs to show him around while tactfully giving Brian an opportunity to speak with Jasmine in private.

Jasmine sat at the kitchen table, her hair loose and hanging in her face, like she was hiding. She raised a cup of tea to her pearly lips. Brian held his breath, watching.

He never thought he’d see her again. Though his mind often traveled back to that time in his past, he’d always pictured Jasmine staying locked away with those precious memories, never changing. Never moving on from that small apartment just a block from the beach.

“He’s not my son,” Brian said. A great ache spread through his chest as he spoke the truth aloud. She’d been with another man. She’d moved on with her life and built a new one without him.

Of course she would.

“No, he’s not,” she said and set the teacup down.

“Who is?”

She glanced up at him. A frown pinched her lips. “You left me,” she said. “There’s no reason for you to sound jealous. I’m sure you’ve had other relationships since ours.”

“Of course, but I just...I saw your son and he’s...you must have conceived him right after I left.”

She nodded. A new pain twisted in his chest, one tinged with unquenchable jealousy.

“Grant,” she said. “He worked at the surf shop after you left. It was his summer break from law school.”

He closed his eyes hoping to keep the memories and jealousy at bay.

“We were married for six years,” she said.

Another truth he didn’t want to hear. Another pain writhed in his tightening chest. Breathing felt impossible. The air grew stagnant as the room filled with his past mistakes and regrets. But he forced himself to stay calm. Her story was deeper, more important than his bruised feelings.

Besides, he was the one who’d left her. He had no right to the feelings drowning him. This was about her and her hurts. Not his. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “Why is Danny afraid of Grant?”

She wouldn’t look at him. A deep blush darkened her face. “Grant would never hurt Danny. He loves our son. He truly does.”

“He was afraid for your safety. Terrified, actually. Why?” Brian urged.

“It was a messy divorce.” Was all she’d say.

Brian let the silence fill the room for several minutes, hoping she’d say something to chase away the unfamiliar awkwardness that lay between them. When she held onto her secrets, he took a different tact.

“Your last name is now Hart. Why?”

“Danny and I needed a fresh start. I thought of you and this town. I picked your last name out of a sense of nostalgia. Besides, you’d sworn you’d never return to your hometown. Too small for your tastes, I believe you’d said. But for Danny and me, it sounded perfect. Too perfect, perhaps.” She sounded sad, wistful. Like nothing in her life had turned out as she planned.

“You were hiding,” Brian said. “Hiding from Grant. And before you clam up again, let me remind you I am the county sheriff, I can pull your file and find out what’s going on that way.”

She sighed deeply and began talking. Once the words began flowing they seemed to all rush out at once, like they’d been bottled up for far too long and needed desperately to come out.

The blood rushed from his body, wanting to hide from the horror he was hearing. She’d suffered so much...too much. This man she’d trusted, who she’d called husband, had hurt her. Abused her. Jasmine, Brian’s delicate flower, had been left alone to be trampled.

If he’d only been man enough to stay with her ten years ago none of this would have never happened. Danny would be his son and Jasmine would be happy. His fists tightened, sending his blunt nails tearing deeper and deeper into his flesh.

“I’ll stop him.” It was a promise Brian knew he’d keep.

She looked startled by the bald declaration.

“You-you can’t. I’ve worked with the police before. They can’t hold him forever and he’s not going to stop--not until one of us is dead. He’s lost it, Brian. I have to keep running or else I’ll end up dead.”

She started to get up from the table. To run. Her car keys came out of her pocket.

“No.” He clamped down on her hand, unwilling to let her go. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not again. “This ends here and now. I won’t let you and Danny live like this. There is a life waiting for you on the other side of that fear you’re feeling. I promise.”

* * *

A life on the other side of her fear? Such a hopeful sentiment felt too good to be true. Like a fairytale. The happily-ever-after never really lasted beyond the sunset the happy couple rode into at the end of the story. It couldn’t. Life was filled with bumps and bruises. That was just the way the world worked. She was managing hers well enough and didn’t need or welcome Brian’s interference.

“We’re just going to wait here in the car and see what he’s driving,” Brian said. They’d parked several houses down from her house, sitting in Brian’s rusty SUV while his sister babysat Danny. Jasmine had protested, of course. Told him firmly how she didn’t need him...not anymore.

Stubborn as always, he’d ignored her and tricked her into his SUV so he could bring her here.

“All I want you to do is identify him for me. We won’t even get out of the car. There’s no reason for you to put yourself in danger. Understand?”

Jasmine nodded. She would have felt more comfortable being a hundred or so more houses down the street, but Brian seemed to think identifying the threat to her important.

While she didn’t need to see Grant to know the threat was real, a sheriff would. Still, he promised her protection. And Brian had always kept his promises.

Never in their relationship had he promised her a lifetime. Hadn’t even hinted that it might be a possibility ten years ago. A man of his word, he walked out the door the day she’d pressed him to do just that.

In a way his damned honorable streak had been their relationship’s downfall.

Sitting next to him now, all her feelings for him came flooding back. His hand touched hers. A comforting warmth spread up her arm.

“I’ve never forgotten you,” he said. He turned toward her. “We were so close back then. When I left, I felt like I’d ripped off an arm. It was nearly unbearable.”

“It was,” she agreed. Tears clogged her throat as she remembered the loneliness. She’d foolishly married only weeks after he left, part of her afraid of being alone. Another part, a much larger part, hoping he’d return and find her married. She’d hoped he’d feel that same dying pain she’d felt in her heart once he’d realized he’d lost her forever.

That pain of hers had never truly subsided. She’d managed to push it into a small corner of her soul and protect it. No matter how much agony his leaving caused, it had always been safer than the feelings she’d gotten from Grant.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” she said, her gaze straying down the empty street. A car had passed several minutes ago. Brian had recognized the driver, a woman. “He’d expect me to run. He won’t come to the house. Not now.” She shivered. He was out there though...waiting. She could feel it.

* * *

So the whore thought she could hide from him with the help of that handsome sheriff? Grant strangled the report his private detective had provided detailing this new life of hers as he watched that filthy officer of the law take Jasmine’s hand in his and place a kiss on her knuckle. Oh, she played the scene so smoothly, her cheeks brightening into a pretty blush as she slipped her hand away. Who was she fooling? She’d fall into any man’s bed if doing so served her purpose. Just like he’d served a purpose all those years ago.

Damn her. He’d show her that she couldn’t live without him. And when her bloody body lay lifeless at his feet, he planned to take their son and raise him to be a man hardened against the likes of her.

Soon...very soon, he’d make his move.

And that stupid sheriff had better stay the hell out of his way. This was a family matter. The law had no business trying to stop a man from doing what he had a right to do. Vows had been sworn to a source higher than the sheriff’s man-made laws.

* * *

After three hours of watching the vacant house, Brian decided to call it a night. The whole town would be talking about their stakeout tomorrow. That was what small towns were like. The people who lived within the town limits noticed things. As sheriff, he’d learned how such annoying alertness could be a good thing.

No stranger would slip into town without being noticed. Brian intended to make sure as soon as this ex-husband of Jasmine’s dared stretch even a toe across the town limits, that he’d be the first to find out.

Jasmine would be safe.

He’d promised her safety. Security. And he always kept his word.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he drove his SUV through the downtown. “The meatloaf and potato sandwich is tonight’s special at Harriet’s Diner.”

Jasmine laughed. The sound warmed his heart. “Would the townspeople think me odd if I skipped the special and ordered a salad? You know I was never one to go for all that heavy food you love.”

He squeezed her knee and started to laugh. The sudden heat that spiraled between his hand and her smooth leg nearly made his throat close up. His laugh turned into a sharp cough. The attraction he felt for her was stronger than ever.

And he wanted to sit in a diner with her...staring into her crystalline eyes while remembering the past? His body would be throbbing with desire before Harriet set his regular frosty glass of root beer on the table in front of him.

“On second thought,” he said, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Keep his body away from hers. It was the only way he could keep a clear head. “We should go to my office and file some paperwork. Do some research.”

“No.” The word appeared in the SUV with them like a splash of cold water. “No reports. No checking on my past. If you want to help me, fine. But just as a friend, not as the sheriff.”

“I am the sheriff. I can’t overlook--”

His radio crackled. The dispatcher’s crisp voice then came in loud and clear. “Sheriff Hart, sorry to bother you on your night off. Mrs. Jenkins just called in. Says something fishy is going on at your sister’s house. You might want to go check it out.”

Cheryl? His heart skipped a fracturing beat while his head turned cold. What if that bastard was going after Jasmine’s son? He did a quick u-turn in the middle of the road while reassuring his dispatcher that he was only a couple of minutes away. Make that less than a minute--he mashed the gas pedal to the floor.

He felt Jasmine tense up beside him. “Grant,” she whispered. A quick glance over to her, and he found tears flooding her eyes and her slowly shaking her head. She’d pressed her fingers to her lips. “I should have never tried to stay in one place.”

He wanted to tell her not to worry, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her everything was going to be okay when he wasn’t sure of that himself.

He slammed on the brakes in front of his sister’s house, sending the SUV careening to a quick halt, and pulled out his gun as he set his feet on the grass. “Stay at my back.” It would be too dangerous to leave Jasmine in the SUV, though that was exactly what he wanted to do. Leave her out of this. If her psycho ex-husband were in fact inside Cheryl’s house there would be no guarantee of anyone’s safety. But it would be too dangerous to leave her alone out here and unguarded. He could only do his best and hope his promise of keeping her safe would hold.

Gun drawn and ready, Brian crossed the small front yard, climbed the porch steps, and eased the unlatched front door open. Jasmine stayed behind him like he’d asked for two slow, cautious steps inside the house. She then shouted, “Danny!” and darted deeper inside.

“No!” Brian tried his best to stop her. But her determination gave her the ability to slip from his frantic grasp.

* * *

Danny! Jasmine had to put her hands on her child and see him unharmed before she could worry about her own safety. The house was unfamiliar and quiet like an echoing cathedral. Still, her heart told her to go up the stairs...that she’d find Danny in Grant’s clutches up there.

“Mom?” The small, strangled cry wrenched her gut, nearly doubling her over. She ran toward Danny’s frightened voice. She should have never left him. Should have never stayed in this town.

She tossed open the only closed door at the end of a long hallway upstairs and found Grant hugging Danny to his chest. Brian’s sister lay motionless on the rug. A puddle of blood encircled her head like some sick artist’s rendition of a halo.

Grant’s eyes were dark and focused. His gaze burned straight through her. A smile pursed his lips. There was no humor in the expression, only splattering of smug satisfaction.

“Leave Danny out of this,” her voice trembled with both fear and anger. Her child looked so small, so fragile trapped in her ex-husband’s muscular arms. “I’m here now. I’ll do what you want. Just let Danny go.”

“No, Mom,” Danny whispered in a tearful little voice. “Don’t let him hurt you again. Please.”

“This is for the adults, boy,” Grant said. He gave Danny a squeeze, like he was going to crush him. That brought Jasmine running into the room.

“Let him go!”

Grant’s fist flew out and hit her in the jaw as soon as she was within arms reach. She stumbled. Her backside landed hard on the floor. She lay there breathing hard, stunned, and watched as Danny twisted free of his father’s clutches.

“Get downstairs,” she ordered before Grant could grab Danny again.

Where was Brian? Hadn’t he promised to protect them?

Thankfully, Grant let the boy run. He only flicked his gaze once toward the door.

His attentions were all for her. He licked his lips.

“It’s too late for you, you know,” he said. “I’m going to take Danny with me when it’s all done. I want you to know that...I want your last thoughts to be of me raising our son to be a strong man just like me.”

Where in the world was Brian?

Her gaze swept the bedroom in search of a weapon. Nothing useful jumped out at her. She inched toward the door. Brian’s sister lay next to her. This close Jasmine could see her delicate chest move with a regular motion. She was still alive, thank God.

Cheryl’s survival gave Jasmine hopes for her own.

She would get through this. She just had to...if only for Danny’s sake.

Escape loomed only a few feet away. She leapt to her feet. Before she could make it any closer to the door a hand dug into her scalp. Fingers twining in her hair slammed her against Grant’s broad chest.

“No, you don’t,” he said, sounding far too calm for the situation. Shouldn’t he be hysterical or something? She sure felt on the verge of losing her sanity and she wasn’t planning to murder anyone. “Let’s go downstairs in search of that sheriff of yours.”

He pressed a sharp knife blade against her throat, killing all thoughts she’d entertained of kicking and twisting and fighting him for her freedom.

“I could easily kill you right now, but neither of us wants the fun to end so quickly,” he whispered in her ear. His hot breath sent a wave of chills sailing through her. “Don’t you go and do anything stupid to ruin this moment.”

Old feelings of helplessness born from six years of marriage to this controlling jerk crept back into her skull. She fought a strong urge to crouch down and make herself as small as possible and cry little mewling sounds. It was a stupid thought, she knew. In fact, Grant had slapped her for actually trying it once. But knowing she couldn’t hide from him didn’t stop her from wanting to try.

Her mind was racing franticly searching for another means for escape while remembering all the times he’d hurt her.

No more, no more...the divorce papers said he no longer had that kind of control over her.

She was supposed to be free.

“Sheriff!” Grant shouted.

“No,” she whispered, stiffening her neck against the cool blade of the knife. “Leave him out of this.”

Grant dragged her as she stumble-stepped into the hallway and down the stairs. “Sheriff! I’ll kill her if you don’t show yourself.”

* * *

Brian ground his jaw. His instincts warred with his training. Don’t run blindly into dangerous situations. Good advice to keep himself alive. But if he sat on his hands any longer, waiting to get a clear shot it might be too late for Jasmine.

Damn it. It had taken too much time to get Danny out of the house and into a neighbor’s safe care. Backup should be arriving soon.

Not soon enough.

Jasmine’s life was in danger and Lord only knew what fate had already befallen his sister. Brian’s heart slammed like a fist against the inside of his chest.

Grant and Jasmine came around a corner, stepping into view. Still, he couldn’t pull the trigger of the gun he gripped in his hand unless he wanted to risk Jasmine’s life. They were coming his way. Grant had a blade pressed against the fragile vein in her neck. Even if Brian could get a shot off and actually hit Grant since Jasmine was acting like a damn good shield, there’d be a good chance Jasmine’s throat would still be sliced.

Brian cursed under his breath and tucked his gun into the back of his khaki pants.

“I’m here,” he said and slipped out from his hiding place from behind the kitchen door. He slowly moved out into the center of the small butler’s pantry that lay between the kitchen behind him and the dining room where Grant was standing. He held his hands out from his body, showing his willingness to surrender.

“Ah, so the sheriff of this backwoods town does have a spine after all.” A vicious smile creased the corners of Grant’s mouth. “Take a few steps back into the kitchen, Sheriff. I don’t want you too close. Someone might get hurt.”

Jasmine opened her mouth as if to protest. The color drained from her already pale cheeks. Grant must have sensed her movement. The blade at her throat sliced open the skin. Bright red blood suddenly appeared on the gleaming blade.

“Jasmine,” Brian said real slow and careful. “Remember what I promised?” He took several backward steps until his foot hit the kitchen’s hard tile floor. “Don’t panic now. You know I always keep my promises.”

“The only one here with a promise to keep is me and Jasmine,” Grant said with a sneer. He followed Brian into the kitchen. “We promised before God that we’d be together until death. I plan to help Jasmine keep her end of the bargain.”

“She ran from you because she feared for her safety. No god anywhere would keep her bound to a madman like you.”

Grant snarled. A low grunt came from deep in his throat. “If I seem mad, it’s all this woman’s doing. With her cold heart, she drove me to do what I’ve done to her. I’m the victim.” He shook Jasmine like a rag doll, the blade at her throat dangerously close to doing mortal damage. “Not her.”

“Okay.” Brian raised his hands higher in the air. “You’re the victim. I get that. What do you want me to do? I could put her in jail for you.”

That last thing he’d said had been a mistake. Grant’s eyes widened with a look of unbridled fury. He sucked several loud breaths while his pale skin trembled. “Don’t...patronize...me.” His calm voice belied the stiff anger flowing all around him.

“No, man, I didn’t mean it that way,” Brian said. Damn. He’d give his life to get Jasmine free. Why did he ever leave her? Seeing her like this was the worst kind of torture. All the old feelings, the love, the fear, the need to run away from something that was bigger than the both of them came flying back and hit him like a frying pan slapped in his face. If only he hadn’t been a coward all those years ago. If only he’d stayed and discussed his fears with her. If only...if only...

“On your knees, cop,” Grant said.

Brian did as he’d asked, lowering himself slowly onto one knee and then the other, while keeping a sharp eye on the knife and watching for an opening to bring this madness to a quick end.

“Put your hands on your head.”

He did.

Grant seemed pleased. His chest expanded on a long, deep breath. “Now I’ll finish what I’ve been trying to do for far too long.”

“My sister,” Brian said at the very same moment. “Is she alive?”

“The bitch who lives here?” Grant asked.

“She’s alive, but hurt,” Jasmine whispered. Her voice sounded raspy, like she’d spent the last several hours crying though there wasn’t the first sign of tears in her unnaturally bright eyes.

“Shut up!” Grant shouted.

Brian flinched, terrified of what Grant was gearing up to do. The madman would kill them all, his sister included. There was no compassion, no humanity in those rage-filled eyes. No room for anything beyond his total hate for Jasmine.

Something was going to break.

A high shout starting low, and going in volume tore through the house.

“No!” Jasmine shouted.

“Get away from her!” Danny, his thin cheeks red and flushed, charged into the room and tackled his father’s legs. “Get away from my mommy!”

Brian leapt up, his gun in hand and lunged for Grant. His sole goal was to get control of that knife.

Jasmine screamed. A china platter shattered on the floor. The actions that followed in the room were too chaotic to follow. Arms and legs and a jumble of other body parts blurred into a single monstrous danger.

Something clipped Brian on the side of his head just as a sharp metal blade tore deep into his side. With a thick gasp he toppled to the floor and laid there in the middle of the kitchen, stunned.

He struggled to get back up and back into the fight as darkness clouded his vision and sapped strength from his limbs. There was nothing more he could do. For the first time in his life he’d failed to keep his word. He’d failed. Failed...

* * *

Her baby, Danny! Brian.

“No.” A surge of strength filled Jasmine as she watched in horror as Brian’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell, bloodied to the floor. He’d risked everything for her. He’d made her feel worth more than this cruddy hand she’d been dealt in life. It was time to fight to change things.

She ripped Danny out of Grant’s squeezing grasp. Both Grant and Danny were shouting, screaming curses and burning her ears with pain. Only she could stop this.

She pushed Danny away from them only to have him charge back into danger. Her little boy tried to wrestle the jagged-edged knife from his father’s raging hands. Frantic to save her baby, she grabbed a heavy pot from the stove and smashed it against Grant’s thick skull.

“What?” Grant appeared completely shocked by her aggressive behavior as he sank to the floor, clutching the top of his head. A rivulet of blood trickled down the side of his face.

Danny continued to kick his father while puffing and cursing. Jasmine pulled the boy into her arms and held him fast against her thudding chest whispering, “It’s over, baby, it’s over.”

* * *

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” Brian said as he eased himself into a sitting position on his hospital bed. The effort must have pulled like the devil on the stitches in his side. He paled several shades and beads of sweat broke out on his brow.

“Let me help you.” Jasmine rushed to his side and got the mechanical bed to rise up and support his back. “The doctor said to take things slow. You nearly died.”

“I didn’t die, Jazz.” He closed his eyes and frowned deeply. “Nor did I protect you. I’m so sorry.”

“But you have protected me.”

“Because Grant won’t see the light of day unless he’s looking through bars?” A slight smile played with his lips. The expression charmed Jasmine, sending a shiver of delight through her. “The courts frown on criminals who attack cops. You’ll be safe from your ex-husband for a good number of years. He’s out of your life now.”

She took Brian’s hand and squeezed it. Tears pressed against her eyes, wanting to spill down her cheeks, but she fought them. With a deep breath, she gathered all her courage. “Danny is anxious to see you.” Not at all the sentence she was working up to say.

“I’m anxious to see him, too.” He swallowed hard. “I want to be a part of his life...to fill the role his father couldn’t?”

She heard the question underneath his concern. It was the same question she’d been too frightened to ask herself. “I would like that,” she said. Could it be true? Could her happily-ever-after be waiting for her after all?

“I want you,” he said. “I should have never left you. When I saw you in that madman’s control, I thought I was going to die. Don’t ever let me be so stupid and leave you again...I don’t think I could survive it.”

He smiled sheepishly.

Jasmine felt a smile tug on her lips, too.

“I love you, Brian Hart,” she whispered.

“Does this mean we’ll be planning a wedding,” Brian’s sister, Cheryl, said from the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. “I certainly hope so.”

Brian tightened his hold on Jasmine’s hand. “I do too,” he whispered.

And for the first time in her life, Jasmine’s dream for a happily-ever-after felt like it might finally turn into a reality.

Click Here to Return to Homepage for A Good Read