No One But You

light.
    “What are you doing?” he growled, smelling heavily of beer. “I heard what you said. Lyn isn’t going anywhere.”
    “That’s up to her.” Mariah rose, phone still in her hand, with 911 a touch of a button away. “Good evening, Roland. I’m concerned about Lyn.”
    “Oh, she’s fine. But you—I’ve had about enough of you.” His eyes narrowed and he fisted his hands, bristling visibly. “If you can’t keep your nose out of my business, then you and me are going to have a problem. Is that what you want?”
    Footsteps sounded on the patio behind her. Wyatt stormed into sight. “No, your problem is with me. Are you all right, Mariah?”
    “I’m fine.” She splayed her hand on Wyatt’s chest. “I don’t want to escalate his anger.”
    “Fine, as long as he understands something. I won’t let him talk like that to you.” Even in the shadowy darkness, Wyatt seemed stronger than she’d ever seen him. Anger radiated from him, but it wasn’t threatening.
    It was protective. She swallowed hard, trying not to let it affect her. Trying to tell herself that she didn’t see the difference…but she did. “Roland, I want to help, that’s all. I can recommend some excellent counseling programs—“
    “I’m not gonna take this.” He slammed his fist against the side of the house, a foot away from Lyn, who cringed.
    Time to call the police, Mariah thought, but Roland pounded down the steps and stomped the length of the garage. When he disappeared from sight, Mariah let out a pent-up breath. A truck engine roared to life. The a pickup jerked into the street, hit a garbage can and zoomed away, lurching dangerously. Mariah dialed the police to report his driving and turned to the trembling woman.
    “Are you okay?” She hugged Lyn. “How about I make us some tea?”
    “No, not this time. Roland’s anger is the worst it’s ever been. Maybe…” She hesitated. “I don’t like living like this. Could you—?”
    “Absolutely. Let me help you pack.” Mariah looked over Lyn’s shoulder. Wyatt was hardly visible, yet she could feel his strength and his concern. If she could learn to trust anyone again, then it would be him.
    So why couldn’t she?
    She gave Lyn’s hand an encouraging squeeze before the woman disappeared inside. Shivering from the letdown of adrenaline and the cool night air, Mariah stepped across the grass toward him. “How about a rain check on dinner? I’ve got to phone Sunni. She’s on call tonight, and I can’t leave Jake—“
    “I’ll stay with him. If you trust me to.” You can, his eyes told her.
    She remembered the last man she’d trusted with her son. Memories welled up—of Jasper’s hands tight around her throat, his face puckered with anger. Jasper standing over her yelling, out of control and kicking the wall beside where she crouched, blinking through the blood streaming down her face. Jasper hauling her out of the house by her ponytail, throwing her into the snow and locking the door behind her, while baby Jake cried desperately from his crib. And worse, Jasper’s tearful apologies after.
    “Mom?” Jake tumbled into the yard, Hobart at his heels. “Is everything okay?”
    “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to take Lyn to the shelter.”
    “Yeah. Me and Wyatt can hang out.”
    “I’d like that.” Wyatt curled his hand around Jake’s neck in a quick show of affection. The boy grinned. “We’ll take it easy. There’s got to be a game on we can watch.”
    “Most excellent.” Jake nodded in agreement. “Take all the time you need, Mom. We might not even miss you.”
    “ I will.” Wyatt’s gaze locked with hers, making the shadows disappear. “Do what you have to do. We’ll be waiting for you.”
    As she watched the man walk away with her son, Hobart trailing, she fought to keep her heart unaffected. I don’t love him, she told herself stubbornly. I absolutely do not love him.
    But it was a lie.

Chapter Eight
    It didn’t take long to get Lyn and her daughter packed and moved. Lyn had already planned ahead what to take. Sunni had helped the woman and her daughter settle into their private room, then took them to the dining hall for a late supper.
    Mariah’s stomach growled as she drove home, glad that Lyn had taken the first step to helping herself, to being her own best friend.
    When Mariah pulled into her driveway, she saw that Roland still hadn’t come home. Lyn had predicted he would be out drinking until late.