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My mind flashed back to walking in with Luna holding my hand. The cushions on our couches and our mattresses were slashed and all the stuffing was strewn about. All the drawers in the kitchen, bathrooms, and our bedrooms were pulled out and the contents were scattered on the floor. The television and my laptop were destroyed. I would have thought that since Richie stole from them, logic would dictate that the intruders would have stolen from us. But I supposed a forty-inch flat screen and a five-year-old Mac probably didn’t have that much street value.
“They just trashed the place.” I did my best not to let the fear bleed through my voice as I brushed over the break-in.
“What did they do?” Hank repeated.
Apparently, he wanted specifics. “You know, they cut up the furniture, broke glassware, smashed the television and computer.”
Hank’s nostrils flared and I noticed a vein pop out in his neck. I knew that it shouldn’t be hot that he looked like he wanted to kill someone, but it was. “What did the police say?”
“Umm…” Suddenly feeling a rush of nervous energy, I licked my lips. “I didn’t report it.”
A twitch in his eye told me that Hank did not approve of my actions, or in this case my inactions.
“If I reported it, Richie would have been implicated.” It wasn’t until I made that admission that I’d even known that was part of why I hadn’t called the authorities.
“You were protecting him?”
The subtext in that question was so much louder than the actual question itself.
“He’s not a bad person. He’s sick,” I repeated the same thing I’d been telling myself all of these years. “And he’s Luna’s father. But also, I wasn’t just protecting him. I was protecting us. The people he owes money to are dangerous. I decided it was best to just leave. So I packed up our stuff and moved here.”
Hank was silent for a beat and my shoulders started to relax thinking that this conversation was over.
“How much does he owe them?”
“Fifty grand.” Or at least that’s what he’d told me on the message he’d left explaining that he’d stolen my debit card the night before the break-in when he’d come by to visit Luna out of the blue and had taken the money out of my accounts. I’d tried to call him back for details but his phone was shut off.
Hank closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them. I could see that my story was affecting him on a very real level, I just wasn’t sure why it was. He didn’t know us. But it looked personal to him.
“Where is he?”
“Richie?”
He didn’t respond verbally but I knew that the answer was yes.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “His phone is turned off.”
“Does he know where you are?”
“No. I did tell my neighbor, but she won’t tell anyone.”
Before he could ask any more questions, the timer went off.
Saved by the bell.
Without saying a word, he opened the screen door and I walked past him. We worked together in silence. After I drained the noodles, I took the pan back to the stove and he got to work under the sink.
I kept sneaking peeks as I prepared the mac and cheese and cooked the hot dogs. When I was slicing the hot dogs leaving about an inch at the end for the head and slicing them lengthwise, then rotating them and slicing again to create the tentacles, I got a particularly drool-inducing view of his triceps.
There was just something so sexy about a man that could fix things. I think the voice in my head that sounded like Ashley was right, I definitely had a type.
I had just put little holes in the top of the dog for eyes and was placing the final octopus on top of the third bowl of mac and cheese when Hank slid out from beneath the sink and washed his hands. I stared at his back for a moment, enjoying the view.
His T-shirt pulled taut on his broad shoulders revealing the lines and planes of his chiseled back. My mouth watered and it had nothing to do with the cheesy dinner I’d just prepared.
When he turned around and caught me staring I panicked.
“Dinner’s ready!” I called out to Luna as I scurried to the table and set the bowls down.
