Page 80 of Read With Your Heart

“He did?”

“He wanted advice. Said he’d made a huge mistake and he wanted to win you back.”

My mouth falls open in shock.

“How do you feel about that?” Emily asks me, and I don’t know how to respond.

Is he really here to stay, or is his return another layover until the next big drama for him? We haven’t really spoken about his absence, but we’ll need to get there. We also need to talk about the level of violence he unleashed when he pummeled Trent. I can’t be with another man who thinks with his fists. Then again, I’ve never felt safer than I do with Leon in my bed. He pulls me into him each night, breathing me in until I fall asleep, and surprisingly, I don’t dream. I don’t think about Trent, what he once said, what he did, or the loss of our child. It breaks my heart still to realize I’d be having a baby in the months to come. My mother might have been right—like she usually is—when she said it wasn’t in God’s plan to give me a baby with a man like Trent.

“I don’t know how to feel, but I know I’m safe with Leon. I like how he makes me feel about myself, and I like how I think I make him feel.” He told me he loved me when I said I hated him. And he didn’t back down from that declaration. He repeated it.

“From the way he looks at you, it’s obvious how he feels about you and how you make him feel. He loves you, and you make him feel loved in return.” Emily says all this with a dreamy sigh in her voice. She knows all about complicated love, but I’m so happy she and Jess were able to work things out.

“I heard about last night,” she continues. “It’s obvious he’d take a bullet before he’d let anything happen to you.”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that.” I shiver when I recall how Trent threatened to shoot me in the back if I ran. I remember the rifle laying unconcealed on his truck seat. He could have been arrested for that action alone. He wasn’t arrested, though, not for any of it, and I’m wondering what the sheriff’s playing at by setting Trent free. I filed a restraining order against him for now, and I want that divorce.

“How are you today?” Emily implies after what happened last night. Her voice softens. I’ve already had to calm my mother and assure her I’m safe. I simply told her Leon was back and that seemed to make all the difference to her.

“I think I’m going to be okay,” I tell her, and I do feel that way. If Leon and I can talk, I think we have a real chance…at something real.

+ + +

Later, Leon calls me to tell me he’s working late, picking up some of the slack from the time he was gone. I tell him I’ll set aside a plate for him, and Lys and I eat together.

“Leon told me you’d like to stay here,” I begin, before hesitating on the addition because of the absence of your parents. I don’t know the deportation process well enough to know if their parents can easily return to the United States or if this will be a permanent arrangement. Leon’s going to need to file for guardianship of his sister since she’s still a minor. That’s just one more thing we’ll need to discuss.

“I do want to stay here,” she says, her eyes drifting up to me. There’s concern in them. She’s lost so much. Her parents, her sister, and her brother who disappeared for two weeks.

“How are you doing with everything?” I don’t need to spell it out for her.

“I miss my parents.” She shrugs. “But I like it here.” She took pride in helping me paint the walls in my living room and dining room, and I’m letting her decide on a color for her own room. Once we learned Lena wasn’t returning, I told her the space was all hers, and she reminded me that she’d never had her own room until she moved here. I know the feeling. I shared a room with my sister growing up, and then I’d shared a cabin with my husband. It’s nice to have a house I call my own.

“I’m happy you’re here,” I tell her, and I’m rewarded with a large smile. Of all the Ramirez children, Lys might have the best chance at an easier life, at least for now.

When we finish eating, she goes to her room to do her homework, and I start the dishes. It’s a familiar pattern for us now that some of my home renovation projects have finished. I needed the distraction each night while Leon was gone, and Lys and Levi were willing participants in the destruction of the carpet and freshening up of the walls. I’m still missing a living room couch and tables, and I’ve decided refinishing the dining room table and chairs I inherited with the house will be next on my list of improvements. I’m considering wood cleaning and stain colors in my head when my cell phone rings again.

“Levi?”

“Tricia, can you come to the house?” His voice trembles.

“Levi, what’s wrong?” I shut off the faucet and squeeze my phone in my hand.

“It’s Trent.” Dammit. Is this another trick?

“Levi, I can’t really—”

“I know about the restraining order, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” His voice drops lower. He’s not quiet, just unreadable.

“Levi, what is it?” I turn my back to the sink and rest my backside against the edge of the counter. I hang my head because I’m not going anywhere near the Walker’s property, but Levi sounds really upset. “What did Trent do to you?” It’s the first thing I can think of. Trent did something to his brother. Did he take out his frustration on Levi? Did they go at it in Trent’s anger? Because if I know anything about Trent, I know he’s both angry and frustrated about last night.

“Tricia, please.” His voice breaks, and I stand straighter, pushing off the counter’s edge.

“Baby—”

“He’s dead, Tricia. Trent’s dead.”

+ + +