“Becky, what’s wrong?” He was breathing fast from having to chase after me.
I flipped around, but Paul was gone.
Instantly, I tore myself from his grasp and raced down the street, doing a three-sixty, trying to find him.
Where is he?
Where the hell did he go?
Then, I saw him. By the stoplight. And I took off running again like my life depended on it. He’d know today that he couldn’t scare me anymore. That I had someone who loved me, someone who cared and would stay by me this time. I wouldn’t hide anymore. I’d fight him back and confront him.
The light changed to red, allowing the pedestrians to walk, and I charged toward him, whipping him around by tugging at his shirt.
“Shit.” I dropped my hand as soon as I realized it wasn’t Paul.
From the side view, he was unmistakably Paul, but this wasn’t the Paul who haunted my nightmares.
“Sorry.” I raised both hands as he stared at me, thoroughly pissed, in the middle of a busy road.
The light changed, causing oncoming traffic to press on their horns, and I tipped my chin, my eyes apologetic. “I’m so sorry.”
“Becky.” Charles reached me again and grabbed my hand, dragging me back across the street to safety. When we were on the sidewalk, he gripped both of my forearms, bringing me in. “What’s going on with you?” His eyes were full of worry.
“I thought …” My eyes went back to the stranger crossing to the other side of the road. “I thought I knew him.”
His eyes followed mine across the street. “You thought that was your ex?”
I nodded, still not taking my gaze from the man I’d almost assaulted.
Without warning, Charles pulled me into him until my cheek planted against his chest. “I promise you, nothing and no one will ever hurt you again. Ever.”
I snuggled against him as he kissed my forehead. I wasn’t worried about Paul hurting me anymore. This new realization pushed through while I was in Charles’s arms. He couldn’t do anything to me that he hadn’t done already. I was more scared of Paul hurting the people around me, the people I’d grown to love.
But no, never again.
Chapter 30
Charles
Becky’s nerves were shot after that encounter with the stranger that she’d thought was her ex. The bike ride down the lake did not ease her anxiety, and when we went grocery shopping, I noticed how her eyes searched the vicinity, as though he would pop up from the condiments aisle.
That was when I made a decision for the safety of my kids and Becky. I would legally find this son of a bitch and serve him a restraining order.
I’d hire a private investigator to find him and enlist my legal team to serve him the papers.
We were seated at the kitchen table with our steak and potato meal that we had cooked together. There had been times through the night, after the laughter and short make-out sessions, that she zoned out, and I had known she was in deep thought.
As she sat there, poking at her steak, I knew this was one of those times.
“Hey.”
No answer.
I toed her foot under the table.
Still nothing.
I pulled at her plate, forcing her head up from wherever she had gone to a minute ago. “What’s in that beautiful mind of yours?”
She shook her head, her eyes gaining focus. “Stuff.”
When I threw her a pointed look, she laughed. “What happened earlier. How I’m so on edge. I wonder if that paranoid feeling will ever go away.”
I reached for her hand over the table, placing my hand over her fist. “I was thinking.” I paused, knowing how I phrased things was important. It was how I handled my business, my household. It was all about the approach. “I don’t want you to be paranoid anymore. I don’t want you to keep looking behind you at the grocery store or when we’re out at the park with the girls. So”—I leveled her with a stare—“I want you to think about getting a restraining order.”
“What?” She reeled back as all these questions played behind her eyes.
I continued before she had a chance to deny my request, “If we find him and file a restraining order against him, he can’t hurt you anymore. I don’t want you to live a life where you’re afraid.”
Her gaze dropped to the table, and I squeezed her hand tighter. “Let me do this.” I paused, needing her to really listen to me. “I care about you, Becky.” My