Page 82 of Mack

Her mother met her at the door with T.J. already in his coat and that particular look on her face that she only wore when she was frightened and trying not to show it.

“You didn’t tell Dad,” Mallory said quietly, stepping inside.

“Are you kidding me?” Georgia kept her voice low. “He’d be in his truck looking for him before I finished the sentence.” She searched Mallory’s face. “I don’t like you going home alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go straight in.” There was no way she was telling her mother about talking with Troy.

“Mallory—”

“Mom.” She held her gaze. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Georgia looked at her for a long moment, then pulled her into a hug. “You call me the minute you’re inside,” she said. “I mean it.”

“I will.”

T.J. appeared in the hallway with Rex under his arm. “Mama!”

She crouched down and held him tight and let herself have that for a moment.

“Hey, baby. Ready to go home?”

“Yep. Nana made cookies.”

“Of course she did.” Mallory stood, took his hand, and headed for the door.

She felt her mother watching them all the way to the car.

When she pulled into her driveway, she scanned the street before she cut the engine. No unfamiliar vehicles. Nothing that didn’t belong.

That didn’t mean anything. She knew better than to take comfort in what she couldn’t see. Troy had always been good at making himself invisible until he decided not to be. That was part of how he’d controlled her for so long.

She got T.J. out of his car seat and carried him to the door, her keys already in her hand, moving quickly the way her mother had asked her to.

Inside she pushed the door closed and stood in the hallway for a moment just breathing.

T.J. looked up at her. “Mama, you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby.” She kissed the top of his head. “I’m just fine.”

She wasn’t. But she would be. She had to be because the alternative wasn’t one she was willing to consider. Troy could threaten her all he wanted. He could show up on her porch and park on her street and walk into her shop like he owned it.

But he would never get to T.J. She would make sure of that. Whatever it cost her.

After helping T.J. out of his coat, she hung hers up and went to the kitchen to make coffee for herself and hot chocolate for T.J.

T.J. settled on the floor with his dinosaurs, arranging them with great seriousness, while she waited for the kettle.

The knock at the door sent him scrambling to his feet before she’d even registered it.

“T.J.! Wait. Don’t open the—”

“Hey, little guy. Where’s your mama?”

She ran to the living room.

Troy was already inside, closing the door behind him, and she realized with a sick lurch that she hadn’t locked it when they came in. She’d been rushing, she’d been distracted, and now he was standing in her living room looking down at her son.

T.J. stared up at him for a moment, then moved behind her legs without a word.