"You're going to regret this!" Derek shouts at me as they load him onto the back of Beast's bike. "All of you! I'll bury this whole town!"
"Good luck with that," Rage mutters, securing him in place, “We’ll come back for his car later.”
I watch them ride off, Derek's shouts fading into the distance. I should feel guilty. Should worry about the legality of what I just did, about the potential fallout, about crossing lines that sheriffs aren't supposed to cross.
But I don't. All I feel is satisfaction.
The MC won't kill him. We have an understanding about that. But they will make sure he understands exactly what kind of pain he caused. Will make sure he thinks twice before coming back to Blackwater Falls or anywhere near Claire and Jackson.
Sometimes the law isn't enough. Sometimes you need something more direct.
I walk to the front door and unlock it with hands that are steadier now. It swings open, revealing my living room exactly as I left it, except the door frame is cracked where Derek tried to force his way through.
I'll fix that. Tomorrow, or the next day. Right now, I have more important things to worry about.
"Claire?" I call out. "He's gone. You're safe. It's just me."
Silence. Then, barely audible: "Is he really gone?"
"He's gone. Some friends of mine are making sure he understands he's not welcome in Blackwater Falls. He won't be back. I promise you that."
I hear the bedroom lock click, then the door opens slowly. Claire appears in the hallway, Jackson clutched in her arms, both of them pale and shaking. Her eyes are red from crying, her whole body trembling.
"Tom." My name comes out as a sob.
I cross the distance between us in three strides, and before I can think about whether it's appropriate, whether I should keep professional distance, I pull them both into my arms.
Claire collapses against my chest, and I can feel her shaking, feel the adrenaline and terror working its way out of her system. Jackson is crying quietly, his face buried in his mother's shoulder.
"You're safe," I murmur, one hand on Claire's back, the other gently touching Jackson's head. "I've got you. Both of you. You're safe."
"How did he find me?" Her voice is muffled against my shirt. "I was so careful. I used cash, I didn't tell anyone, I—"
"We'll figure it out. But right now, you're safe. That's what matters."
She pulls back slightly, looking up at me with those tired brown eyes. "He said he was going to hurt you. That you'd regret helping me."
"Let him try." The words come out harder than I intend. "Claire, I need you to listen to me. That man is never getting near you or Jackson again. I'm going to make sure of it. Do you understand?"
She nods, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. She's been running for so long, been afraid for so long, that my promises probably sound hollow. Like things people say but can't actually deliver.
I'll prove it to her. Whatever it takes, I'll prove that she's safe here.
Jackson lifts his head from Claire's shoulder, his face streaked with tears. "Is Daddy in jail?"
How do you answer that? How do you explain to a four-year-old that his father is a bad man who hurts people?
"Your daddy made some bad choices," I say. "Some friends of mine are teaching him why those choices were wrong. But you and your mom are safe now. That's what's important."
"I don't want to see him," Jackson whispers. "He's mean."
Claire makes a sound like her heart is breaking, and I tighten my arms around both of them.
"You don't have to see him," I promise. "Not unless you want to. And I don't think he'll be coming around anymore. Not after tonight."
We stand there for a long moment, the three of us tangled together in my hallway. I can feel Claire's heart racing against my chest, gradually slowing as she realizes the danger has passed.
This. This is what I was protecting. Not just abstract concepts of justice and law, but this woman and this child. This family.
