Dawn Redeemed

Shayla rested a hand on Hanning's shoulder. "So do you." The sadness was so apparent in Hanning's eyes. He hurt. He hurt because of her sister. She might as well have shot him in the heart for all the pain she'd caused him. Ultimately, it would have been kinder.

Hanning patted Shayla's hand. "I think we've both been through enough over the past few months. I'm glad you came back. I hope Carter makes you happy."

"He does. But, what about you?"

Hanning sighed and toyed with a dirty spoon abandoned on the table. "I'll be a whole lot happier when this mess is behind me." He looked up and gave Shayla a look filled with fire and dark warning. "I won't let her take Evan. I'll resort to any measures that I have to, to keep him safe. I can't change what happened between us. I don't regret the years we were together. Evan is the only good that came out of them and I intend to keep him right here with me."

Shayla didn't doubt exactly how far Hanning would go to keep Evan safe. Ruby had burned him, deeply. She wasn't sure how far she'd go to keep Hanning and his son together. But, she knew how far she'd go to keep her son safe and her family intact. There was no sacrifice too great. Nothing she wouldn't do. Hanning teetered on the edge. A man burned with nothing to lose except for the one thing Ruby had the power to take, their son. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

Hanning nodded. "Then you'll keep out of my way? If it comes down to it?"

Shayla gave his fingers a tight squeeze with her fist and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. Her stare was filled with silent understanding. "Yes."

"Look what I found in the living room pretending to be a little boy," Carter said as he balanced Evan on his shoulders.

"What on earth is that?" Shayla teased, winking at Hanning.

"That looks like my son," Hanning said playfully, hiding the darkness of his thoughts behind a smile. "But it can't be."

"Nope," Carter said. "This is a rare species indeed." He forced a smile. He'd walked in on something. The scent of danger and secrets hung heavily in the air between Shayla and Hanning. "I found a Great Midwestern Living Room Monkey sitting on your couch."

Evan giggled wildly and did his best imitation of a monkey, scratching under one arm, pouching out his lip, and making funny noises in his throat.

Carter tightened his grip on Evan's shins and spun him around. The boy clung to his neck and laughed in a joyous high pitched giggle. "Should we keep him?"

"I don't know. I read somewhere that they could be dangerous," Shayla joked playfully. Evan's eyes were alight with a little boy's enthusiasm.

"I can't seem to get him off my back," Carter said, carefully spinning and bucking as he pretended to attempt to shake Evan free.

Hanning smiled at the pure joy in Evan's eyes and the musical lilt of his laughter. A sound he hadn't heard much of in the last few days. Jovially, he played along. "I guess you're stuck with him."

"There has to be something I can do to get this monkey off my back," Carter faked desperation.

"Give me a piggyback ride," Evan demanded. "Give me a ride and I'll get down."

Shayla gasped and widened her eyes in shock playfully. "I've never seen a monkey that can talk. I bet he's worth a lot of money."

"Maybe we should sell him to the zoo," Hanning chimed in.

Carter tugged playfully on Evan's shins. "Nah, I think we ought to keep him."

"Piggyback ride, piggyback ride," Evan sing songed in a demanding chant.

Carter raised his eyebrows at Hanning in question. He'd missed Evan. He'd missed the child's enthusiasm and genuine love of even the simplest things. "May I?"

Hanning nodded his permission. There was slightly the faintest stirring of a breeze in the dining room to hint that Carter had been there at all. Through the screened in windows left open to the night he heard his son's laughter echoing from the dark woods. He stood and cast a look at Shayla filled with meaning. A look she acknowledged with a dip of her chin. The pact had been agreed upon and the secret sealed between them. They'd keep out of one another's way and do whatever was necessary to protect their families. No matter what the cost.

Ruby tossed and turned in her bed. She'd doze off and then snap back to wakefulness. Her fingers had closed around the cell phone on her nightstand at least a half a dozen times and then opened and let it fall back to the table. Ramon's shirt sat neatly folded on the edge of her bed. His lingering scent hung heavily in the still air of the bedroom. Doubt rolled through her mind in dark rain loaded storm cloudy ready to spill forth.

Was she going to stay and make a new life for herself and her son? Was she going to go back and try to start over with Hanning? Did she even have a husband to go home to? After what she'd done, how could he forgive her? She had one foot stuck in the past and the other, on a slick patch of ice. She'd already slipped once and taken everyone around her down with her. Maybe, she should stay gone. Maybe that was best for everyone concerned.

Finally getting the chance to let go of her grief, even though she didn't have the presence of others around her to draw strength and comfort from, had left her feeling clean but empty. There was nothing left to fill the void in her heart that Ramon had occupied for so many years. She was free of the ache of his absence. Free from the heartbreak she'd carried fostered with loving care. Free to move forward, if that's what she chose. The obvious didn't really have to be stated. There was nothing left for her here but memories, bitter, sad memories. She was free to move on, if she could just figure out where.

The sheets rustled as she sat up in the bed and leaned against the pillows. Her fingers wrapped around the cell phone once more. Bleary eyed from all the tears and lack of sleep, she thumbed through the display. Her thumb hovered there in debate. She only had one of two possible options, press send or don't. She felt the sharp sting of her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she waited for someone to pick up.

Hanning cursed a string of obscenities. The phone in his hand vibrated and played an annoyingly happy tune. He wanted to close his fist tightly around the infernal device and silence it, forever. He had the strength to do so. To crush the phone to bits of useless circuitry and plastic. But, he lacked the conviction. Begrudgingly, he flipped the phone open, silently, lifting it to his ear.

"Hanning?" Ruby's heart pounded in her chest so loudly that he might be able to hear the rapid, fluttering pulse on the other end. Her cheeks burned hot. The silence on the other end chocked her with its meaning. "Hanning? Please answer me."

Hanning ground his molars in frustration, gritting out the question with a strained voice, "What do you want, Ruby?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry," Ruby chided herself for the weak, tremulous sound her voice made as she squeaked out the apology.

Hanning gripped the phone so tightly in his fingers that the plastic began to crack beneath the pressure. "For which part? Destroying our son? Lying about our marriage? Humiliating me? Just. Exactly. What. Are. You. Sorry. For. Ruby?" His body trembled in rage as he spat the words out across the distance.

"Hanning...I...," Ruby stuttered.

Hanning didn't give her time to finish her sentence. What the hell did he care about how sorry she was? "You want to know what I'm sorry about? DO YOU?" he shouted into the receiver. "I'm sorry that I believed one word out of your mouth. Trust me. It's a mistake I don't intend to repeat." He held the phone out away from his ear and glowered at the display. Rage tinted his vision and clouded his thoughts with its heat. Growling, he snapped the phone closed before he lost the last of his restraint.

"Shit!" Ruby's fingers trembled, clutching the phone. He'd cut her off. She didn't know this man. The Hanning she'd married had been patient and forgiving, kind and so open with his love for her. This man was closed off and reserved, angry past the point of reason. The only thing he was fully open about was how much he hated her. The burning man was born of as a consequence of her actions. She deserved every heated, outraged word he slung in her direction. Whatever feelings he might have had for her were dead. Murdered by her own actions of betrayal.

The blankets were soft against her cheeks, dampened by her frustrated tears. Her breath hitched as her shoulders wracked with sobs. She really had made a mess of things. She'd spent years loving a man who couldn't love her while she spurned the love of another. Ramon had loved Shayla more than he'd ever loved her. Deep inside she'd always known that. Secretly, she'd always held out the hope that someday Ramon would come back. But, he never did.

Hanning was so hurt, perhaps irreparably so, because he did love her and she'd taken his love and made a mockery of it. Her marriage was over. The harshness in his voice told her that he'd never forgive her. What an idiot she had been to throw him away so carelessly.

She still had Evan. Her little boy. He loved her, no matter what. He'd forgive her. She couldn't continue to hurt Hanning with threats of taking Evan away from him. But, she was still Evan's mother and had an obligation to him as such. She couldn't live separated from her son. That left her with only one choice and only one direction to go in. She had to go back, before she lost her son too.

Hanning threw the phone across the room and let the rage he felt for Ruby wash over him in a hot, acidic, bath, scalding him to the very core. She was sorry... Hanning huffed... he bet she was. For a minute, he could almost feel his heart soften in response to the pleading sorrow of her voice. Almost. She was quite the actress wasn't she? He'd almost believed the regret in her words. For just one second, one fleeting second, the faintest glimmer of hope sparked in his chest. He had squashed the feeling quickly before it could flare to life and give her means to burn him again.

Thank God, he'd given his son a good night peck on the cheek and Shayla and Carter were tucking him in for the night. He wouldn't want his little boy to see him like this. He'd almost let the bitch get to him again. Manipulate him into a corner so that she could use it against him later. He paced his room, desperately trying to get a hold of himself. Pacing didn't help to calm him. Only one thing would, the cool solace of the darkness and the lush wild of the woods. Stripping off his shirt, he stormed out of his room, abandoning his rage to his wolf.

Evan settled back against his pillows and stifled a yawn. "I'm really not tired," he protested. He wanted to stay awake. A part of him was afraid that he'd wake up and everyone would be gone again. He didn't want to ever let them go. "Uncle Carter? You'll be here when I wake up won't you?"

Carter perched on the edge of Evan's bed and gave him a gentle smile, "Of course I will. I'm not planning on going anywhere." He eased the covers up under Evan's chin. The little boy was exhausted and wary. His eyelids fluttered like butterflies against his cheeks as he struggled to keep them open.

"Evan, you don't have to be afraid. Nobody is leaving." Shayla bent low and gave Evan a gentle peck on the tip of his nose. "We're going to protect you and keep you safe. Don't you worry about that. Your dad, Uncle Carter, and myself, we're going to make sure nobody hurts you. Ever."

"You promise?" Evan sighed sleepily.

"Absolutely. Now try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day full of adventures for you to discover." Shayla inched her way to the door slowly. Evan was just beginning to drift off and the slightest movement or noise would jolt him awake.

Carter sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the boy. Monitoring his breathing, as the first draughts of sleep tugged him under. "Goodnight," he said softly, feathering the edges of Evan's hair away from his face.

Evan felt the jostle of the bed and the light touch of cool fingers brush across his forehead. Fighting the dreams that pulled at him, he blinked awake. "Aunt Shayla, my mommy is coming back for me, soon."

Shayla frowned into the dim light of the room. "I know, baby. I know." She tiptoed over to the bed and gave Evan's covers an extra tuck. "Now go to sleep."

Carter leaned against the door frame and waited for Shayla to come out of Evan's darkened room. "You ok?"

Shayla forced a worried smile across her lips. She'd deliberately kept Carter from knowing the plan, incase things went badly. "Sure. I should go see how R.J. is doing." She wanted a look at her son. A small reassurance that he was safe. She'd left him under Claire's watchful eye and knew he was safe. But it never hurt to take a little look-see, just to be sure.



Chapter 55

Erica plopped her purse and the light summer jacket down on the kitchen table and wiggled out of her sandals. There was a note hanging on the fridge explaining that her aunt and uncle were out for the evening attending a lodge meeting and supper was in the fridge. She couldn't help the eager smile from creeping across her face. She was kidless and relativeless for at least the next couple of hours. Exactly how long had it been since she'd had more than a few seconds to herself? Hightailing it to the bathroom she dropped the stopper in the drain, turned the hot water on full force, and dumped the biggest majority of the full bottle of lavender scented bubble bath into the swirling water.

Waste not... Want not... She wanted a nice, long hot bath without someone pounding on the bathroom door and she was going to get it. Not one seconds worth of this simple luxury was going to be wasted. She peeled off her hose and shimmied out of her slacks and matching blouse. Her hair was beginning to kink into long spirals from the humidity in the air. Haphazardly, she gathered the ringlets with her fingers and pinned the curls up against the nape of her neck. She unfastened her bra and unceremoniously dropped it into the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor. Her underwear quickly joined the heap.

She sat on the cold porcelain edge of the tub and eased down into the steaming, fragrant, frothy bubbles. With a long sigh, she laid back and wet a washcloth, draping it over her closed eyes. The tension in her coiled muscles melted in the hot water and she languidly sank up to her chin in the bubbles. For the moment, she forgot about the headache pounding at the back of her skull. For the moment, there were no monsters to worry about. There was nothing but peace and quiet.

The knock on the door echoed hollowly through the empty hallway. "What? No friggin' way," Erica muttered to herself. She planted her dripping hands over her ears and prayed whoever was knocking would just go away. The pounding at the front door became louder and more insistent. The rocket scientist at the door didn't get the hint and kept up, incessantly demanding an answer. Erica mumbled under her breath and dragged her body wearily out of the tub. "I swear this had better not be some kid selling magazines for band camp or some religious group handing out pamphlets," she grumbled. She gave the bubble bath a last longing glance and pulled the stopper out of the drain.

The old chenille robe had seen better days. Some of the fuzzy design was frayed and worn off in spots. The pockets had holes in them. And at one time, the robe had been a brilliant hot pink. It was faded to a pale, pink from countless times of being washed and tumble dried. Erica should have thrown it out years ago. But, hadn't had the heart to part with it. The robe had been a gift from her mother for her seventeenth birthday. It barely pulled closed. With a tight tug on the worn ties, Erica managed to pull the ends together. The robe fluttered around her calves with each step.

She was so aggravated at the demanding intruder still pounding at the front door that she hadn't bothered taking the time to dry off. She was going to answer that door and tell whoever was on the other side to go take a flying leap. The door was unlocked. She would have panicked at an unlocked door in the city, but out here, hardly anybody locked their doors. Fallon would have barged on through without bothering to knock. So Erica knew it wasn't her daughter. Securing her fingers around the knob, she pulled the door open. She expected to find a bothersome neighbor or some kid peddling candy bars for school. Blushing, she stared through the screen door at Torr. "Ah, hi... I didn't expect to see you today."

Torr grinned at Erica through the screen door. The robe was snug across her hips. Cinched tightly closed by a worn tie. A good length of creamy thigh peeked out from beneath the edge of the robe. And some very nice cleavage was visible from behind the open pink lapels. The damp fabric clung to every dip and curve of her body. Amused at her embarrassment, he smiled. "And I thought you dressed up just for me. Did I interrupt something?" His eyes followed a bead of moisture as it trailed a damp line between her breasts.

"Um...no. Of course not," Erica said, nervously smoothing a hand over her hair. "Fallon is having supper at Nash's and my aunt and uncle are out for the evening. So, I thought I'd enjoy having a little quiet time and take a bath." She stepped back from the door and motioned for him to come in.

"So I did interrupt something." Torr brushed past Erica as he walked through the door.

"No, not really," Erica blushed. Torr was eying her as if she were the main entrée on a starving man's plate. He definitely noticed her underneath the layer of worn chenille. "What are you doing here anyway?" She asked unthinkingly planting her hands on her hips.

Torr's eyebrows raised as the robe pulled apart in all the right places. As much as he was enjoying the show, Erica wouldn't appreciate him peeking at what the gaping robe revealed. In the spirit of a true gentleman, which he wasn't. He averted his eyes to the floor. "I came by to see how your first day at work went."

"Oh." Erica tugged the gaping edges of her robe closed and tried to hide the blush heating her face. "It went good. The job is going to be a bit more than I expected, but my first day went well enough." Nervously, she shuffled her bare feet, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was naked under the robe, "Would you mind heating up some water for tea while I get dressed? The kettle is on the stove."

" Of course not." Torr followed Erica down the hall, ogling the curve of her butt from underneath the tight stretch of the robe. He continued on to the kitchen while Erica retreated to her room. He could help her change. He'd be more than happy to get her out of that robe. His penis leapt in eager agreement, on board with the plan. Dutifully, he filled the kettle with water and turned on the burner. Patiently, he watched and waited for the water to heat to a boil and the kettle to whistle.

Erica fumbled through her closet and grabbed something suitable off the hanger. She slid into a faded denim jean skirt and a pale blue blouse made out of a summery eyelet material and little pearl buttons. Her hair was beyond help. The dampness of the bath had kinked it into unruly spirals that went every which way, except the way she wanted it to go. Considering her hair a complete loss, she quickly combed through the tangles as best she could with her fingertips. She paused for a minute, staring at herself in the mirror, and took the time to put on a thin coating of powder and lip gloss. With the way Torr had been staring at her, she had the blush department thoroughly covered.

"I assumed you wanted the tea from the tin on the table," Torr said as he poured the steaming hot water over the steeper and watched the water fade from clear to dark brown. His sensitive nose picked up the earthy scent of roots and the spicy scents of herbs dried in the sun.