Dirty Pucker (Denver Bashers #2)

33. Ingrid

Chapter 33

Ingrid

D el’s smile drops as he stares at his phone.

“Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer me. I sit up and notice the flash of panic in his eyes.

“Del, what’s wrong?”

His eyebrows crash together when he looks at me. “It’s my mom. She needs my help.”

His expression twists in pain. He lets out a shaky breath as he taps his thumb on the screen of his phone with one hand and grabs his boxer briefs with the other. He quickly yanks them on.

“Mom? Are you okay? What happened?”

He listens quietly while getting dressed.

He stares straight ahead, a stony look on his face. “You’re sure he’s not there? You’re positive?” He exhales. “Okay. I’m on my way to you right now. If you hear anything else, call the police, okay?” He pauses. “Mom, I don’t care. Promise me that if you hear another weird sound, you’ll call the police. Promise me.”

My heart sinks at the pleading in Del’s hard tone. I don’t know what’s going on, but clearly this is serious and his mom might be in danger.

“I love you, too.” He hangs up and looks at me. “I-I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Of course.” I stand up, grab my dress from the floor, and pull it on. “What happened? Is your mom okay?”

“I think so. There was a break-in at her house.”

“Oh my god.”

“It was my dad.”

I go quiet. I remember Dakota mentioning before that their parents weren’t together anymore and that they didn’t talk to their dad. I didn’t think much of it at the time.

The fact that Del is close with his mom and sister, but not his dad, must mean that his dad must have done something terrible to them.

I mean, clearly he’s not a good guy. He just tried to break into his ex-wife’s house.

An awful thought lands in my brain: maybe his dad is abusive.

Before I can think more about it, Del turns and jogs out of my bedroom. I follow him to the front door. He slips on his sneakers.

I watch him. His eyes are dazed and heavy. He looks so lost and freaked out that it makes my chest ache.

I grab his hand. “Del, wait. You can’t drive like this. You’re too upset.”

He starts to say he’s fine, but I stop him.

I cup his face in my hands, steadying him. “Let me drive you to your mom’s.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I stop.

“Let me help you, Del. Please?”

Intensity flashes in his coffee-hued eyes. “Okay. Thank you,” he finally says.

I grab my purse from the entryway table and slip on a pair of flats, then grab Del’s hand and lead him out to my attached garage. Ten seconds later, we’re on the road.

Del gives me directions to his mom’s house. I merge onto the freeway and he calls his mom.

“I just want to have her on the phone with me until we get to her place,” he says to me.

“Absolutely. I completely understand.”

He turns to me and grabs my hand in his. I give him a gentle squeeze, hoping it’s the tiniest bit of comfort during such a horrible moment.

Del’s mom answers and they talk during the drive. After a few minutes, he tells me which exit to take. I drive through an industrial part of the city and end up in a quiet neighborhood with a bunch of cute older houses.

“It’s the white one on the right.” He points ahead. I pull into the driveway.

“I’m here, Mom.” He hangs up and he hops out before I even put the car in park. He jogs up the porch stairs. I turn off the engine and go after him.

“Del, be careful…” I trail off when I see him glaring at the door.

The porch light is on, but in the darkness of the night, it takes me a second to see what he’s staring at. I zero in on the center of the red wooden door. It’s splintered and sunken in, like something or someone crashed into it.

Del looks over at the nearby window. The screen is hanging loose.

“Fucking piece of shit,” he mutters before opening the door and stepping inside. He lets me in and closes the door behind me. He steps in front of me. “Mom?”

“Del, honey.” A small woman with short dark hair rushes out of the kitchen over to him. He hugs his arms around her. I’m surprised at how young she looks. Del is twenty-nine and his mom looks like she could be in her forties.

“Goodness, I’m so glad you’re here,” she says in a soft, shaky voice.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes, honey. I’m fine.” She steps back, surprised to see me. “Hello, there.”

Del glances at me before looking back at his mom. “Sorry, I should have introduced you two.”

I shake my head. I turn to his mom. “I’m Ingrid.”

I reach out and shake her hand.

She smiles at me. “I’m Nancy. It’s lovely to meet you.”

I notice she looks between Del and me. She’s probably wondering why I’m here.

“Ingrid is in charge of social media for the Bashers,” Del says.

I nod and smile. That’s probably a better explanation than, “We’re friends who just started hooking up and haven’t yet defined this thing between us.”

“Ingrid and I were, um, hanging out when you called.” Del mumbles while rubbing the back of his neck.

Nancy quirks an eyebrow at him. Clearly she’s not buying that.

“Ingrid could tell I was pretty upset when you called so she offered to drive me.”

She turns to me and touches my arm. “That’s so kind of you, Ingrid. Thank you.”

“It was no problem. Really.”

Nancy offers a sad smile. “I’m so sorry for interrupting your night.”

“Please don’t apologize,” I quickly say. “I’d want my parents to call me if something like this happened to them.”

Nancy looks heartened at what I’ve said.

Del glances around. “I’m going to take a look around the outside of the house.”

Nancy looks nervous even though she nods.

“I can come with you,” I say to Del

Del shakes his head. “You stay inside with my mom.”

“Okay,” I say softly.

He grabs a flashlight from the kitchen and walks outside. Nancy heads into the kitchen.

“Ingrid, dear, can I make you a cup of coffee?” She darts to one of the cabinets and starts to open it but stops herself. “Goodness, what am I saying? It’s past nine o’clock at night. You probably don’t want coffee.”

She lets out a nervous laugh and opens a different cabinet. “How about some herbal tea?”

She starts to pull a tea bag from the container but drops it. She sighs, like she’s annoyed with herself.

My chest aches. She’s shaken up from the break-in. I walk up to her and gently take the container of herbal tea bags. “Why don’t I do it?”

“Goodness, that would make me a terrible hostess.”

I smile at her. “I insist. I’d really like to. That way you can sit and rest for a moment.”

She offers a tired smile. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

She sits down at the nearby kitchen table. I spot the tea kettle on the stove, fill it with water, and set it back on the burner. I flip on the knob and grab three mugs from the floating shelf on the wall.

I drop a tea bag in each mug, then go to sit down at the table with her.

“I’m so embarrassed, being waited on by a guest in my own home.” She lets out an uneasy laugh.

“Oh gosh, please don’t even worry about it. You’ve been through a lot. The least I could do is make you a cup of tea.”

She offers a small smile.

“Are you okay? Is there anyone you’d like me to call? I’m friends with your daughter Dakota, I could call her and let her know you’re alright.”

She shakes her head. “That’s so nice of you, but it’s okay. I don’t want to worry her.”

The tea kettle boils. I stand up and pour the hot water into the tea mugs. I grab two of them and walk back to the dining table. I set the mugs down and sit.

“Did Del mention it was his dad that tried to break in?” Nancy asks.

I nod. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Her delicate shoulders fall. “I honestly thought we were in the clear. It had been years since he tried to contact any of us. But then, just a few months ago, he called me out of the blue. He threatened me and said he wanted me to buy him out of his share of the house.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “The nerve of that man. We bought this house together when Del was a baby, but I was the one who made all the payments. He was too busy drinking and gambling to hold down a job for longer than a month. I can’t believe what I ever saw in him.”

She shakes her head, like she’s disappointed in herself. “But I was young and naive. He was older. He made all these promises.”

She’s quiet for a long moment before she speaks again. “I finally came to my senses and divorced him. And then he disappeared. And as sad and difficult as it was, life was so much better for us. For years. But then, after all that time being a ghost, he shows up, demanding money.”

Her eyes go glassy with unshed tears. I grab a paper napkin from the holder at the center of the table and hand it to her. She thanks me and dabs at her eyes.

“Gosh. Listen to me. Unloading my life story onto a stranger. I’m so sorry.”

I reach over and pat her hand. “It’s okay. I’m happy to listen. And I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me about this.”

She wipes her nose and manages a small smile. “My son is a bit of a loner. He spends time with his teammates, but that’s about it. So I know that for him to be with you, he must trust you. You clearly mean a lot to him.”

My heart flutters hearing what Nancy says. I wonder if that’s really true.

And then a second later, I realize it’s not that I’m wondering. I hope that Del thinks I’m special. I hope that I mean a lot him.

“You did an incredible job raising him,” I say. “He’s a wonderful person.”

Emotion flashes in her rich brown eyes. The same beautiful, soulful eyes that Del has.

This time when she smiles, she looks happy. She grabs my hand. “That’s the best compliment I could ever hear as a mother. Thank you.”

“He’s so thoughtful and caring. Such a gentleman. And protective. It’s really sweet the way he looks after you and Dakota.”

She rests her hand on her chest, like she’s touched by what I’ve said.

“He was always like that,” Nancy says. “I know he’s earned quite a reputation playing hockey, but when he’s not on the ice, he’s a sweetheart. He always has been.”

She glances over at the wall, at a framed photo of Del and Dakota. Dakota is a baby, maybe six months old. Del looks like he’s in kindergarten and is holding her in his lap, grinning wide. I smile at his chunky cheeks and his adorable bowl haircut.

“When I was pregnant with Dakota, we didn’t find out the gender until she was born. We wanted to wait and be surprised. Besides, gender reveals weren’t really a big deal back then,” Nancy says. “I was playing with Del one day and I asked him what we should name the baby if it was a boy, then if it was a girl. And he looked at my belly and said, ‘You’re gonna have a girl, Mom. And you should name her Dakota.’”

Nancy chuckles. Her posture is more relaxed and her expression is happier. She looks so joyful when she talks about Del as a kid.

“So I said, ‘Well, what if it’s a boy, honey? What should we name him?’ And he frowned at me and shook his head and said, ‘No, it’s a girl.’ He wanted a little sister so bad. And he was right.”

My chest aches thinking about little kid Del hoping so hard for a baby sister.

“That is so, so sweet,” I say.

Nancy chuckles. “Dakota came a bit early so she spent a week in the NICU. Every time Del came to see her, he was so happy. I’d never seen him smile so big. I’ll never forget, one morning there was a group of medical students doing rounds in the NICU. Del saw them and pointed at Dakota and said, ‘Hey guys, come meet my sister. Isn’t she cool?’”

I gasp, floored at how adorable that was.

“When she was a baby, she’d lie on the floor and he’d build LEGO forts around her or drive his favorite toy cars around her. He loved playing with her.”

Her eyes turn glassy, but she blinks them away.

“As soon as he got his first paycheck, when he started playing hockey professionally, he set aside money to pay for her college and paid off our house.”

My heart melts. Del was the sweetest little kid ever. And the best big brother and son.

“I know he’s tough when he plays hockey. I know he fights a lot, and I know that he gets into trouble for it sometimes,” Nancy says. “But he has the biggest heart.”

Emotion swells inside of me. “I know he does,” I say softly while squeezing her hand.

The front door creaks open and Del walks back in. He sits down next to his mom and thanks me when I hand him a mug of tea.

“Everything outside of the house looks okay,” he says. “I’ll get the screen on the front window fixed before we leave tonight. The outside of the door looks pretty rough, but it held up well. I’ll call someone tomorrow to come repair it as soon as they can.”

Nancy smiles at her son. “Thank you, honey.”

Del nods and looks down at the tea mug. “I, uh, think that maybe we should call the police. So you can file a report against Dad.”

Nancy frowns, like she doesn’t want to. I excuse myself to go to the restroom so they can talk in private.

I wait a few minutes before heading back out.

“Honey, I just don’t want to provoke him. You know how he gets,” I hear Nancy say as I walk down the hall.

“I do know. And I know that I can fight back now. I can protect you, Mom. I’m done just sitting back and doing nothing while he terrorizes you.”

I stop before I get to the end of the hall. I don’t want to interrupt them.

“Oh, honey. Don’t say that. You’re doing so much. You switched teams so you could be closer to me. That means everything.”

“It’s not enough though.” Del pauses and exhales. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop him when I was a little kid, when he would hurt you.”

His voice breaks. Nancy sniffles. I hear the sound of fabric rustling. They must be hugging.

I cup my hand over my mouth, heartbroken at what I just overhead. Del’s dad was abusive to his mom, just like I suspected.

“Honey, listen to me. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. None of this is your fault. It never was,” Nancy says.

“Will you call the police, Mom? Please?” Del asks.

She sighs. “Okay.”

I walk back into the kitchen area and see Nancy on her phone. She glances at me and offers a sad smile before walking into the living room.

“I’d like to report a break-in,” she says to the person on the other end of the line.

I walk over to Del and take in the pained look on his face as he watches his mother.

I can’t think of a single comforting thing to say to him right now. This must be so awful for him, seeing what his mom is going through.

I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight. He sinks into my embrace instantly.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Warmth pools in my chest. I hold him tight, hoping I’m giving him a tiny bit of comfort in the pain of this moment.