Let It Be Me, Becky Wade [beautiful books to read .TXT] 📗

dad, trying to free Claire. He shoved them away.

“That’s enough!” Leah yelled. “Stop—”

Pattering footsteps neared. Leah turned to see Annie hurtling toward the mob. Leah intercepted her, wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist. Screeching in outrage, Annie flailed.

“You can help them best by going to get a neighbor,” Leah told her. “Any neighbor you trust who you think might be home.” She set the girl down.

Annie froze.

“Go!” Leah ordered. Annie sprinted away.

Leah moved toward Wes, who continued to grapple with his children. Hateful words roared from him as he thrust Mason to the ground and tossed Becca aside. Mason sprang back at his father. While Wes’s attention was on his son, Leah drew Becca away, then attempted to pry Claire from his grip. Just when she thought she might succeed, Wes’s elbow collided with her cheekbone.

The impact filled Leah’s vision with stars. She stumbled back. Her equilibrium tilted . . . the world dimmed . . . then slowly righted itself.

Wes was far stronger than any of them individually and maybe all of them collectively. Claire and her siblings were already hurt, and he’d hurt them more severely—

A figure barreled forward and entered the fray with the force of a silent and deadly wind.

Sebastian, she realized.

Sebastian.

He threw a punch at Wes that connected with the older man’s jaw. Wes’s head snapped to the side, and his hold on Claire released.

With quicksilver speed, Sebastian positioned the kids and Leah behind himself. “Get back,” he gritted out.

Leah steered the kids a safe distance away.

Wes stormed at Sebastian, his shoulders lowered so that he caught Sebastian in the stomach and drove him into the ground. They rolled, struggling. Wes rose on top, clobbering Sebastian with a fist to the temple. He pulled his arm back again—

Leah shoved Wes to the side. He fell and the two men wrestled, each landing blows to the other’s ribs.

A stranger—a muscular man in his fifties—entered the scene. He hauled Wes off Sebastian. Wes retaliated by swinging at the stranger, barely missing him.

Sebastian gained his feet. Together, he and the stranger worked to subdue Wes. It was like bringing down a thrashing bull, but they finally pushed him facedown on the grass and held him there.

Wes continued to swear and strain.

Leah’s pulse jangled. Her breath came hard. The children were breathing hard, too—all of them blinking and shell-shocked. “Is everyone all right?” Leah asked.

They nodded, though they didn’t look all right. Mason had a split lip. A red ring marked the skin of Claire’s forearm where her father had gripped her.

Annie hugged Claire. “I went and got our neighbor, Mr. Hawthorne,” the little girl whispered to Leah.

“You did very well.”

A police car arrived at the curb. A stout officer with a graying crew cut crossed to them. His name tag read Wagner. “What happened here?”

“He assaulted his children,” Leah said, “as well as these two men.”

“The children attacked me,” Wes sneered.

“The kids were trying to protect one another from him,” Leah said.

Officer Wagner freed the handcuffs from his belt. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Sebastian and Mr. Hawthorne helped move Wes into the back of the squad car.

Leah’s knees felt liquid. “Let’s all sit down for a minute,” she said to the kids, “and catch our breath until the police officer is ready to speak with us.” She sat heavily on the grass.

The kids plopped around her.

It didn’t take long before the officer began asking them questions. While they answered, Sebastian stood several yards to the side, alone. The long-sleeved work-out shirt he wore with scrub pants emphasized his muscled shoulders. Arms crossed, features granite-hard, he peered at the street . . . though he didn’t appear to be registering anything at all.

“Can you please contact your mom for me and explain to her what’s happened?” Officer Wagner asked Claire.

The teen nodded and brought her mom up to speed with a quick and hushed conversation. “She’ll be here in about thirty minutes to pick us up,” Claire told the officer.

“Good. I’ll take Mr. Dobney to the station.” He looked between Leah and Mr. Hawthorne. “Can one of you stay with the children until their mother arrives?”

“I’d be happy to,” Mr. Hawthorne said. “I know the kids well. My wife and I have lived next door for ten years.”

“Is that okay with all of you?” the officer asked the four children.

“Definitely,” Claire told him.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let your mother know that she can reach me by calling the station.” He drove off, Wes a hulking figure in his back seat.

One by one, they stood. When Mr. Hawthorne approached Mason to have a look at his injury, Claire drew near Leah. “Thank you.” Her mouth trembled. “Thank you for coming to help us.”

“You’re welcome. How your father treated you just now . . . it’s not acceptable or right. That’s not what love looks like.”

Claire nodded.

“Those of us at school,” Leah continued, “will team up with your mom to make sure you’re all safe and protected and cared for.”

“We’ll be good with my mom.”

“I’ll call and check on you tomorrow. If you need anything between now and then, let me know.”

“I will. Ms. Montgomery . . . I’m so, so sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m glad that you texted me.”

“I’m really sorry, though.”

Mr. Hawthorne led Claire and her siblings inside, and Leah was left in the suddenly empty, silent front yard with Sebastian.

She’d seen a side of him just now that she’d known existed but hadn’t witnessed. Today, she’d glimpsed the tough foster kid who didn’t back down and wasn’t afraid to use his fists.

She placed herself directly in front of him and saw that a pink-and-red bruise stretched from near the corner of his eye across his temple. His pale gray irises glistened like jewels.

A wave of love rolled from her heart to the tips of her fingertips. She had no familiarity with falling in love. But because of her love for Dylan, Tess and Rudy, and others,