Breaking Point: A SEAL Team Heartbreakers Novella Read online

  On the way home he pondered why the kids seemed just as edgy as he and Trish did. Tad had turned into a teenager while he was gone. A teenager with an attitude and a smart mouth.

  Two years younger, Anna seemed to be very self-conscious and uncertain these days. Eight-year-old Jessica was the only one who hadn’t changed while he was downrange. She’d been bitten by the photography bug, and ran around taking pictures of everything.

  He wondered if she was chronicling the successes and failures in the adult relationships in their household. He and Trish were out of sync, and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know why. Five deployments in the last five years… Thirteen battle deployments during their marriage.

  He’d only been home with her and the kids a little more than two years out of every five. That meant he’d only been doing his job as a husband seven years out of the fifteen they’d been married.

  If he could convince her to stick it out for another five, he could leave the teams with his full pension and move on to something different. Just five more years.

  He could only remember her being this stressed once before. He’d deployed with his team while she was weak, alone, and struggling, and it had taken months for things between them to heal when he returned. He almost lost her then. He didn’t want that to happen again.

  But Uncle Sam signed his paycheck, and he didn’t really have a choice.

  After fifteen years of marriage, surely she wasn’t ready to ring the bell. Not yet.

  He just needed five more years, so he could go out with his pension. He’d work his ass off to ensure that happened. If she’d just hang in with him.

  He’d never been this uncertain of her. Dealing with terrorists seemed a piece of cake compared to disappointing her. He dragged in a deep breath as he pulled into the drive and shut off the engine.

  Anna rode her bicycle into the drive behind the car and passed it on the passenger side before she stopped to dismount. He shoved open the car door and got out.

  “Hey, Annabelle.” Her name was Annaliese, but he used his pet name to greet her. Her dark hair was a few shades lighter than his, but with her thick brows and lashes, she reminded him of his sister when small. Thank God her features were a little more symmetrical than his, and she’d been spared his long jaw. She’d hit a growth spurt while he was gone this time, and with her slender build, looked all arms and legs.

  “Hey, Dad. Mom’s been waiting for you to get home. Tad did something really bad, and he’s in big trouble.”

  Shit. “I’d better go talk to your mom and see what’s going on.”

  “You and I could hang out here by the pool and hope she doesn’t find us.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Anna eyed him gravely and nodded.

  Shit!

  “We’ll hang out by the pool after I go in and talk to Mom, okay?”

  Anna nodded. “Okay.” He was almost to the back door before she said, “Good luck.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  The house was silent. He wandered through the kitchen into the living room. The hall was dark, and all the bedroom doors were closed.

  He stopped at Jessica’s room and eased the door open. She lay curled on her bed, her dark hair mussed, and her eyes were red and swollen.

  He bypassed Tad’s door. He’d save the confrontation with his son for later. In the master bedroom, Trish had several piles of clothing on the floor. She must be cleaning out the closet.

  He scanned the items and, seeing none of his stuff in the pile, breathed a sigh of relief. For a minute he thought she might be tossing him out.

  “Anna said there was an issue this morning with Tad.”

  “He slammed Jessica’s camera onto the floor as hard as he could and broke it. She took a picture of him after he got out of the shower wearing only a towel, and he was enraged.”

  She ran her fingers through her short cap of hair. He liked the new cut. It left her slender neck bare, and every time she turned her back, he wanted to press a kiss to that vulnerable, tender spot at her nape. “Jess cried herself to sleep. And he’s not the least bit sorry.”

  “I’ll go in and talk to him.”

  “I’ve never seen him like this, Langley. He’s short-tempered, surly, and the way he broke the camera, it was violent.” He read worry and hurt in her expression.

  Langley reached for her, and she came into his arms. She laid her head against his shoulder like she was exhausted. “There’s something going on with him, Langley.”

  He debated whether or not to pile more on, or just offer comfort. But if they didn’t face what was going on between them…

  “There’s something going on with us, and he knows it. Talk to me, Trish.”

  She went completely still against him. “It won’t do either of us any good to say the words out loud. Because there’s nothing either of us can do or say to change things.”

  “Venting might help you.”

  “We’ll just come right back to where we are, because there’s no way of changing things. We’re both locked into our paychecks, and we have to have the money.”

  Shocked, he was silent for a long moment. “You want to quit your job?”

  “Yes, I do. They’ve doubled our caseloads, and I can barely breathe at work. The girls are good, but I can’t give enough attention to Tad. He clearly resents me, and I don’t understand why.”

  “It isn’t you he resents, Trish. It’s me. I just got back six weeks ago, and I’m already back to work. You’re just an easier target because you’re here and I’m not.”

  She leaned back to look up at him. “What do you plan to do about that?”

  “The only thing I can. Talk to him.” He’d never laid a hand on any of his kids but… “Unless you’d rather I spank his ass for breaking the camera.”

  Her eyes widened at the suggestion. “No. Of course not. I’ve already worked out a punishment. He has to work off the cost of another camera, and he can’t have his X-box controls back until he does.”

  He pushed a little. “It isn’t just the kids, is it?”

  “No. It’s—everything, Langley. I’m tired of dealing with everything alone.” She flinched and closed her eyes. “I know that doesn’t sound like a SEAL’s good little wife, but Tad is wearing me down. Short of locking him in his room and sliding his food under the door, I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I’ll talk to him. See if I can’t encourage an attitude adjustment.”

  “Thank you. I have to go to work.” She pulled away and grabbed her purse.

  This wedge between them refused to budge. “I love you, Trish. I know some of the guys I’ve been teamed with in the past weren’t always faithful, but I’ve never strayed. You’re the only woman I want. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I don’t want us to lose each other, Langley. But I can’t be three-quarters of a whole anymore.”

  Ouch, that hurt, more than a little.

  “You have to find a way to pull your weight with your son. I can’t do it alone anymore.”

  He followed her through the house to the front door while she collected her daily planner from the small office at the front of the house. She turned at the front door to look back at him.

  “How long are you going to have to work weekends?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I wish I could say this wasn’t the new norm, but working five days a week just doesn’t cut it. I have to do four home visits today, because it’s the only time the parents are home for me to speak to them.”

  He nodded. “Be careful, Trish.”

  “I will.” She picked up a sweater draped over the back of the couch and slipped it on.

  He caught her arm when she started out the door. There had to be some physical contact between them. It was all he had right now. “I like the new haircut. It leaves that sweet spot right back here free.” He brushed his fingertips down her neck. “I want to kiss you there every time I’m behind you.” He bent his head and demonstrated, taking
his time, and was rewarded when she shivered.

  She turned to look over her shoulder at him, her pale blue eyes, scanning his face. “Talk to Tad and see if you can make some headway with him.” She gripped his chin, rose on tiptoe and kissed him. “I may ask you do that again tonight.”

  He grinned and caught back a sigh of relief. At least she was still open to his sexual overtures. But then they’d always had a strong physical connection. When he was home. “I’m on it. I promise.”

  She nodded, opened the door, and strode down the front steps. Once behind the wheel, and noticing him still standing at the door watching her, she threw up a hand in a small wave.

  He closed the door. It was time to deal with Tad. Right now. And if it took lighting up his son’s behind, he’d do it. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it.

  Chapter 3

  SATURDAY, 12:00 p.m.

  Trish pulled the car over and parked. Almost done for the day. She looked forward to getting home to spend some time with the kids and Langley.

  For a moment, she allowed herself to dwell on his soft kiss on the back of her neck, and the light in his eyes when she kissed him. They needed a few nights alone to iron out this tension between them. Maybe after making love a couple of times, or ten, she’d get her head on straight.

  She turned her attention back to the job she was here to do, and studied the unkempt front yard, which was in dire need of mowing, especially around the sagging plastic pool with a shallow, scummy puddle of water. Then she reminded herself that just because a home looked neglected on the outside didn’t necessarily mean there was an issue inside.

  Mary Clarence did the right thing when she filed charges against her abusive husband a few days earlier. If Mary needed help with her yard, Tad could give it a quick mow that would last a couple of weeks. It would be good for him to give back, and learn the joy of helping someone less fortunate. Maybe if she kept carving away at the sullen almost-thirteen-year-old he was working on becoming, she’d break through that anger.

  Trish climbed the one step to the plain concrete slab porch with its narrow roof, and knocked on the bright red door, its color at odds with the rest of the house. She scanned the neglected yard once again while she waited for someone to answer.

  The door’s bright enthusiasm seemed at odds with the decidedly downtrodden feel to the place. The paint looked fresh. Had Mary Clarence felt a tiny bit of relief when her abusive husband was marched off the property and into a jail cell? There was a tiny spark of optimism to the color.

  The lock on the door clicked as it was disengaged. Trish pasted a smile on her face and turned to face the person answering her knock.

  A woman peeked out, her pale features all angles and hollows, a pointed chin, a thin blade of a nose, even her eye sockets seemed to protrude around her large brown eyes, as though she’d been without food for a while. Anxiety tightened her face as she remained partially hidden behind the door, a chain still looped from the doorjamb to the back side of the door, keeping the red barrier in place.

  “Hello, Mrs. Clarence. My name is Trish Marks, and I’m your Child and Family Services caseworker. I’m here to do a home check, and to discuss your options for the services you and your children may qualify for.”

  “It isn’t a good time, Ms. Marks. The children and I have been down with a stomach bug for the last two days. You don’t want to catch this.” She rested her forehead against the edge of the door, her face shining with a fine mist of sweat. “Can you come back tomorrow? We should be past the worst by then.”

  Trish caught movement in the crack between the door and the door jam. Was that a child…or someone else? “I can run down to the market and bring back some potato soup, crackers, and ginger ale for you.”

  “My next-door neighbor, Mrs. Franklin, has already done that.” She flinched away from something behind the door. “Come back tomorrow.”

  The hairs on the back of Trish’s neck stood up. “I will. Let me give you my card.” She riffled through her purse and pulled out a business card with her office phone and cell on it. “If you or the children get any worse, call me, and I’ll help you get transportation to the hospital.”

  Mary Clarence timidly reached for the card. “Thank you. I have to go.” She shut the door.

  Trish’s heart hammered as she walked back down the sidewalk to her car. Who had been standing behind the door? Was it just her imagination, or was something going on here?

  She turned to look back at the house and tugged her cell phone from the front pocket of her organizer. She slid her thumb over the surface of her phone and scrolled down and punched the number for the sheriff’s department. She asked for one of the deputies she worked with frequently.

  “Marshall, can you tell me if Thomas Clarence has been released?”

  “I’ll look it up for you.” The sound of keys being tapped came across the line. “He was released this morning.”

  “Dear God. He wasn’t supposed to be released. He’s threatened to kill his wife, beat her to a pulp, and she has an EPO out against him. I think he’s here at the house. I think he was behind the door threatening his wife while I was speaking to her.”

  “Are you still at the house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Call her. See if you can get her to pick up. Call me back.”

  Trish slid into the front seat and closed the door. She shuffled through Mary Clarence’s file, found the number, and punched it in.

  The phone rang and was on its way to six times before it was picked up. “Hello.” A breathless female voice answered.

  “Mrs. Clarence?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Trish Marks again. Are you alone?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Is your husband there?”

  Her only answer was unsteady breathing.

  “Are you and the girls in danger?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he armed?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mouth went dry and her heart drummed in her ears. “Tell him I just called to verify I have your number down correctly. I’ve already called the police. Can you get the girls and close them up in a bedroom?”

  “I will.”

  “I’m going to do all I can to help you, Mary.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The police are waiting for my call.”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Hurry.”

  “I will.”

  Trish’s fingers rushed to end the call and reconnect to Marshall. “You have to get someone here now. He’s there. She says he’s armed, and they’re in danger. I told her to try and get the kids into a bedroom away from him.”

  “I’m on it. Don’t go near the house.”

  “I won’t. For God’s sake, don’t let them arrive here with sirens wailing.”

  “Pull around the corner, and I’ll meet you there. I have done this before, Trish.”

  “Do it faster,” she urged and hung up.

  She couldn’t just leave. She had to stay. She had information on the Clarence family the police might be able to use.

  She started the car and pulled around the corner, parking where she could still see the Clarence house. She called her office and punched in the number for one of the other social workers. “Irene, I’ve had to call the police. They released Thomas Clarence without notifying us or his wife. He’s inside the house, and he’s armed. It may be a hostage situation, and I’m waiting for the police to show up now. Can you change my last two appointments, and space them out over the next few days?”

  “Sweet Jesus! I’m on it. Stay out of the line of fire.”

  “I am. I’ve pulled around the corner out of the way. I thought they might need background on the case and him when they arrive.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll make those calls. Be safe.”

  “Thanks.” She’d done some background on both Mary Clarence and her abusive husband, Thomas, when the case first hit her desk three days before. She sca
nned the information now for anything that might be helpful.

  At a tap on the driver’s window she jumped and looked up. The hole at the end of the pistol’s barrel looked as big as a cannon pressed against the driver’s side window. The square-jawed face behind the weapon was only familiar because of the pictures she’d just been looking at.

  Trish’s breath caught inside her chest, and she couldn’t release the air from her lungs. Her stomach curdled, and every instinct in her screamed, get away from the gun!

  She’d fired Langley’s service weapon a time or two, but had never been a fan of firearms, and he was careful to keep his Sig at the base, or secured in a lockbox on a shelf in the closet. Only he had the key to it.

  “Get outta the car, bitch.” The man’s voice was muffled through the glass. He jerked at the door, but it was locked. “I will shoot you through the glass. Open the fuckin’ door.”

  She felt nauseous as she hit the button to unlock the door.

  Thomas Clarence jerked it open and grabbed her arm to drag her out of the seat. He caught her back against him with an arm across her shoulders, and pressed the gun to her temple hard enough to hurt.

  “Take the car. The keys are in the ignition.”

  “What are you doin’ sitting here?”

  “I just left someone’s house and was looking up my next appointment. I needed to program my GPS in order to find the house.” She pointed to the GPS navigation device mounted on the windshield. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “No.”

  “You’re trying to take my family away from me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re from family services, ain’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  He stuck the gun beneath her chin. Her heart seemed to stop, and her body froze. He was out of control. She was going to die if she couldn’t talk him out of the rage coming to a boil inside him.

  She couldn’t even talk her twelve-year-old son out of his anger. How was she supposed to deal with an enraged husband?

  Her breathing came in shallow gasps, and her entire body shook. “My job is to try and get medical services for the family, and make sure they get enough support to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Why would you think that I’m trying to take your family away from you, if all I’m trying to do is help them survive?”