Liam muttered something else, but his ire seemed to have faded.
Another unfamiliar voice fell next to Eva’s ear. Still in Scott’s arms and catching her breath as she attempted to make sense of it all, she lifted her head to find a friendly-looking male police officer crouching down beside her. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Should get her checked out by the paramedics,” Scott said, anger lacing his tone. He cupped her chin gently, the fingers of his other hand trailing down her throat with a feather-light touch. His gaze softened until he pivoted his head around to stare at a now standing Todd, his hands behind his back, a police officer reading him his Miranda Rights. Scott’s jaw tightened iron-hard. “Get that fucker out of here before I—”
“Get him out of here,” the cop next to them said, jerking his chin at the other officers. He glanced at Scott. “Leave the law to us, Mr. Dixon.”
Scott’s lips pursed until he zeroed his baby browns back on Eva. “Do you need help up, babe?”
She shook her head, but he helped her to her feet anyway, never leaving her side or letting go of her. His touch was the reassuring boon of comfort she sorely needed at the moment.
“We’re going to need to get statements from you, Ms. Marchand,” the officer said. “You as well, Mr. Dixon. We understand Mr. Fletcher has been working with your company?”
“Let’s go next door to my place,” Scott said, his hand cupping Eva’s elbow and leading her to the front door. “We can get her cleaned up and give statements over there.”
The officer nodded. “Paramedics are on their way. They can determine whether Ms. Marchand needs to see a doctor or not.”
Eva allowed him to lead her to the front door. She slid into the pink and purple polka-dot flip-flops she had on the shoe rack and, like a robot, followed Scott down the path; her driveway, loaded with cop cars; and around the hedge to his house. Neighbors all down the block were lined up along the sidewalks and milling around in their front yards. A few daring ones had ventured down the road and were in groups, murmuring and speculating closer to Eva’s home.
Everyone stopped and stared when she and Scott stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“Eva, darling, are you all right?” Mr. Gallagher from next door asked. “Saw that man sneak onto your deck, called the police because he seemed suspicious. You okay?”
“We’ll update you later, Mr. Gallagher,” Scott called back. “Need to get Eva checked out first.”
Mr. Gallagher nodded, then conferred with the three people he was standing with on the sidewalk.
“Hope you’re okay, honey,” Mrs. Sandham from across the street said, hunched over her walker, with her little shih tzu, Yudi, sniffing the grass next to her.
Eva merely glanced back and nodded before turning her head forward again and following Scott and the police officer toward Scott’s house.
They were just climbing the steps to the front door when an ambulance pulled into Scott’s driveway and two paramedics jumped out.
“Come on, babe,” Scott murmured into her ear, his grip on her elbow tightening. “Let’s head inside. Get you checked out.”
Eva sighed, turned to head inside, but was distracted once more by the cop car pulling out of her driveway and heading down the road. Todd was in the back seat, and the glower on his face as he stared out the car window at her was murderous.
Would she ever truly be free of the man?
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Scott said, his hands moving to her waist, the heat of his palms a salve to soothe her damaged soul. “We’ll make sure of it. Come inside where it’s safe. Where I am.”
Her eyes squeezed closed and she nodded, following him inside.
“I’ve been on the phone with the district attorney,” Liam said, pacing back and forth in front of the hearth of Scott’s living room. “He’s going for the maximum sentence. After he violated the restraining order, the breaking and entering into Eva’s house, the attempted murder—which we got on tape—he figures we’ve got a pretty good case. Not to mention all the illegal stuff going on with Fletcher’s business dealings. The DA is going to continue to work with McGregor and see how deep everything in Fletcher Holdings really goes. Sweep the leg and then geld him as Richelle likes to say. They’ve also arrested Officer Croy for tipping Todd off.”
Scott exhaled a sigh of relief as he sat back down on his couch next to Eva and handed her the cup of tea he’d brewed her. The cops were gone, as were the paramedics. Eva’s injuries, although terrible looking, were superficial. Her throat was already mottled with dark purple bruises, and there was a cut on her cheek from where he’d slapped her. Otherwise, she was deemed fine—at least physically.
He worried about her psychologically though. Emotionally.
She had been awfully quiet since the cops left. Even when the cops were there, she answered their questions but barely spoke otherwise.
They’d called Celeste to apprise her of the situation, and although her sister was obviously shaken up, she agreed that it was probably best if she kept the boys away from Eva until their mother was in a better mental state.
“I’m going to run,” Liam said, checking his watch. “Let me know if you need anything, okay, Eva?”
She nodded and thanked him, but her gaze remained fixed on the shaggy faux fur rug at the foot of Scott’s hearth.
Scott saw his brother out, then immediately returned to her side. His knuckle came up beneath her chin, and he lifted her head up gently until her gaze pivoted to his. “God, babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
She didn’t say anything, but her eyes blinked several times, moisture gathering and causing the lashes to spike.
The look on her face gutted him.
Pressing his forehead to hers, he spoke soft and slow, as one might speak when dealing with a spooked horse. “Talk to me.”
Her lashes fluttered closed and she shook her head, dislodging his knuckle from her chin. “I don’t think I’ll ever be rid of him,” she croaked, her natural rasp even stronger. “Not really. Not unless he’s dead.”
Pulling his forehead away, he took her hands in his. He needed the physical connection probably as much as she did. Seeing her there on the floor with Todd’s hands wrapped around her throat had been a nightmare come to life. The way her legs twitched as he slowly, determinedly squeezed the life out of her. That image would haunt him for a long time.
“The trial will be hard, yes,” he said. “But hopefully, between all of us and the DA, we can put him away for as long as humanly possible. Until the boys are adults and able to think for themselves. I promise you, Eva, I will do everything I can to not let Todd Fletcher hurt you or your kids ever again. You have my word.”
Green eyes glassy with unshed tears lifted to his face. “I’m scared.”
He took the mug of tea from her and pulled her into his lap, holding her tight against his body to absorb her fear, absorb her anger—because there was probably a lot of that in there too—but most of all, to let her know that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Her body shook as the sobs came on. Hot, wet tears trickled down her cheeks and fell down his V-neck. Her fingers bunched, white-knuckled, in the fabric of his shirt. He rubbed her back and murmured shushing noises, the same sounds he made when Freddie was upset after falling off the jungle gym or waking up from a bad dream.