Page 70 of Mack

“None of your business.”

“He’s my son, Mallory.”

“He is not your son. He will never be your son.” She kept her eyes on his. “You have no legal claim to him, and you never will. A judge will take one look at your record and laugh you out of the courtroom.”

Something shifted in his face. The smile stayed but the eyes went flat, and she recognized that look. She’d learned to be very afraid of that look. He came quick and she hadn’t been prepared when he wrapped his hand around her throat and put his nose against hers.

“You think that deputy is going to protect you? He’s a small-town sheriff’s deputy, Mallory. You think that badge means anything to me?”

“I think you just got out of prison,” she said. “And I think you’d like to stay out of it.”

That landed. She saw it in the tightening of his jaw.

“You looked me up.”

“Of course I did.”

He was quiet for a moment, studying her. She stood very still and kept her breathing even and did not let him see how hard her heart was hammering.

“You’ve gotten brave,” he said finally.

“I’ve gotten tired,” she said. “There’s a difference. Now take your fucking hand off me and get off my porch, Troy. Don’t come back to my home. Don’t come near my son. And don’t threaten the people I care about.” She held his gaze. “Because unlike four years ago, I will make that call. And I will make it stick.”

He stepped back but she wasn’t ready when he grabbed her arm, making her drop everything, and pulled her close.

“I blame you,” he snapped. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have been drinking and if I hadn’t been drinking, it never would have happened. That is on you… Mal.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said.

He looked at her for a long moment. Then he stepped one step down, then another.

“We’ll see. You of all people know what I’m capable of,” he said.

He walked back down the path and got into a truck she didn’t recognize. She stood on the porch and watched until the taillights disappeared.

Then her legs gave out and she sat down hard on the top step, pressing her hands between her knees and shook.

She’d meant every word, but she was also terrified.

And she still wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not yet.

She got herself up, picked up her things, and entered the house, locking the door behind her.

****

Mack pushed through the department door, hung up his hat and coat, and dropped into his chair. The office was quiet. Jack was already out on rounds and Mack would follow shortly.

Three to eleven on a Saturday. He didn’t mind it. Better than eleven to seven, which left him dragging for half the next day no matter how much coffee he put away.

The one good thing about tonight was that Mallory was singing at Dewey’s. He’d be stopping in before the shift was done. He always found a reason to.

He pulled his chair up to the desk and went to work.

Later he eased the cruiser down Main Street, keeping his eyes moving as he always did. It was quiet tonight. No trouble, no calls, just the town going about its Saturday.

He pulled into Dewey’s lot and stepped out. A group of cowboys were carrying on near the entrance, loud and loose, but when they spotted the uniform, they straightened and nodded. Mack touched the brim of his hat and went inside.

He heard her before he saw her. A fast song, the floor packed with dancers, the whole room moving. He made his way to the bar and found a spot.