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He and Nic watched until the man crossed the street and walked out of sight. Then they returned inside and Michael locked the door. He shook his arms out, trying to shake his anger away, too.
“Deb, are you okay?” Nic held out his arms.
Deb nodded, but her lips trembled and she threw herself into Nic’s hug. “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for the help. Are you guys okay?”
If only he’d thought to offer a hug first. But that would be stupid. She deserved a better guy; someone healthy and happy.
Nic let her go, chuckling. “Sure, that was easy.”
Michael couldn’t laugh, not with rage and fear still coursing through his body. “Deb, has this happened before?”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “George has been sending letters, but I return them unopened. Don't want anything to do with the sleaze ball.” She shivered.
Nic’s mouth twisted. “Can't blame you there. He must want something pretty bad to send someone to threaten you in person. Maybe you'd better report this?”
Deb sighed. “Yeah, probably. I'm really tired of dealing with this.”
Michael raised his brows. “Exactly what is this?”
Deb’s lips pressed together for a moment. “Want another cupcake? It's a bit of a story.” She walked away from them and put the cake she'd been frosting into a nearby commercial fridge. She pulled out the remaining cupcakes and carried them to a table. “Water or coffee?”
“Water would be great, thanks.” Michael knew he needed to rehydrate after his migraine, and more sugar wasn’t going to help. But he couldn’t resist her sweets. He followed her behind the counter, taking the glasses she filled, and then returned to the table, sitting after she did.
Nic took a bite. “You should be on one of those cupcake shows on TV. No way anyone could compete with these.”
Deb smirked. “No thanks. Those shows have deadlines and pressure I don't need. And I'm not exactly TV material.” She rolled her eyes and waved a hand from her head to her waist. “I eat too much of my own product.”
Michael couldn’t help himself. “You look perfect to me.”
Nic elbowed him, hard. “Dude, bad timing.” He kept his volume low, but Deb’s face reflected amusement and disbelief.
“What else is new?” He was generally bad with women but everything came out wrong around Deb. “Sorry, never mind. I know the basics of what happened with Franks, but I don’t think Nic does, so if you could tell us the whole story, maybe we can help.” He had to stay calm and project reassurance. Displaying anger might make Deb more anxious, and it wouldn’t help him either.
Deb took a deep breath. “I got married in high school to George Franks. He was a jock, and the picture-perfect boyfriend for an insecure fat girl who'd been teased her whole life. George's dad was pretty well off, so George was more than a little spoiled, and it turns out, a whole lot lazy. We got married right after he graduated high school when I was a junior. I found out later his mom pressured him hard to marry the ‘right kind of girl’ thinking that would keep him on the straight and narrow when he went to college.” She rolled her eyes. “It did for a while. Then he started partying harder, and he lost his football scholarship, and he really wasn’t good enough that they were willing to overlook his academics, so he dropped out.” Deb looked down at the table. “I’m pretty sure he cheated on me the whole time he was there. He lived in a big house with his teammates, and there were girls there all the time. When I confronted him, he blamed me for trapping him into marriage and gaslighted me hard.” She shrugged, still staring at the table top.
Good thing George was in prison, because if he was here, Michael would be rearranging his face. George had always been sleazy but emotionally abusing a woman made him into true scum. “Did he physically abuse you, too?” Michael hardly recognized his own voice, his words coming out in a growl.
Deb shook her head. “No. He knew I wouldn’t stand for that. Anyway, after he dropped out, he went from job to job, while I supported us by working in a bakery in Missoula. His dad cut him off, telling him to grow up and get a real job, but he got fired time after time. Then he got into drugs, and before long, he was dealing, not that I knew that.” She shuddered and glared at the wall in front of her. “When I found needles, I kicked him out, packed my stuff and got the cops to search the place. There wasn’t anything there but paraphernalia, but it wasn’t long before he got caught the first time with drugs, and I started divorce proceedings. Then he got caught dealing at the high school, which sent him up to the state prison at Deer Lodge for a very long time.” Her mouth twisted and she glanced between the two of them. “Sam drew up the divorce paperwork for me, even though she doesn't usually do domestics, and George actually signed it, so it wasn’t even contested. But he kept sending me letters, mostly asking for money, and while I sent him some early on, I quit after the third request. Then I sent the letters back unread. But something else must be going on now, because this is the first time I’ve been threatened.” She shook her head. “I'd better call Sam.”
“I think you should spend the night with us.” Nic pointed at the front door. “Too much glass, not enough security here.”
“Here?” Michael wasn’t sure what Nic meant.
Deb pointed at the ceiling above her head. “I live in an apartment above the bakery. No commute for me.”
“Nice. Normally. But Nic is right.” Michael glanced around the front of the business, trying to remember what the back door looked like.
“I'm not going to let some thug scare me out of my home. Or my business.” Deb glared at him, but it was like a kitten glaring.
Michael smirked. “Guess I'll be spending the night.” She was family, and he never abandoned family. Remembering that would keep him on the straight and narrow.
She raised her eyebrows. “I don't think so. I don't even know you.”
He chuckled. “We can fix that. One night with me, and you’ll know me real good.” He’d already veered way off the straight and into a race track full of curves.
Nic punched his arm. “What is wrong with you?”
Michael held up his hands, palm out. “Just kidding, trying to lighten the mood.” Badly.
