Page 2 of The Alpha's Second Chance Mate

Perry had always had a temper, but I never thought he was capable of violence. Not like this.

“Hey, asshole!” Ashton cried, lunging forward. “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

Before I could do anything, my son’s fist swung forward, hitting Perry dead-on in the nose. The strength and anger of a fourteen-year-old was usually nothing against the rage and belligerence of a burly forty-year-old man. But Ashton wasn’t a human boy. He was a shifter and had just begun puberty. His full strength hadn’t come in yet, but he wasmuchstronger than any human kid his age.

His fist struck Perry right in the face, and the larger man rocked back on his heels, blood spurting from his nostrils onto his upper lip. He staggered back but kept his footing.

Perry rounded on Ashton, fire in his eyes. “Little shit! You touch me?” blood and spittle flew from his mouth. “Think you’re a big man, do ya? Huh? Come on, then. Hit me again, you prick.”

Then, without warning, he backhanded Ashton.

My son’s head snapped around, and an angry red welt formed almost immediately below his eye. Ashton stumbled backward, putting a hand to his face, and the anger in his eyes filled me with terror. If we didn’t get out of there, things would get much worse.

“Enough!” I scrambled to my feet and pulled Ashton back.

“No, Mom,” Ashton said, tears beginning to form in his own eyes. “This guy hit you. He can’tdothat.”

“It’s fine, baby,” I said, tugging him toward the door, though it was anythingbutfine. “Let’s go.”

“Go on, then,” Perry said, waving at the door. “Get out. I don’t need you. Get thefuckout of my house, you stupid cunt. We’re done! You hear me?”

“Your house?” I asked, gaping at him in shock. “Last time I checked, it’s my name on the mortgage, not yours. But you know what?” I added with a sneer even as I tasted the blood on my lips. “You stay. I don’t want to spend another second here.”

Perry waved a hand at me. “Whatever, you dumb bitch.”

Ashton, growling, tried to go for him again, but I managed to hold him back. Barely.

I’d gotten him outside and back to the car, and we spent that night at a hotel. I didn’t sleep, though, and had lain in bed for hours, thinking of what I could do. At three in the morning, I’d snuck out of the room so as not to wake Ashton while I called an old friend.

Stormy Wallace, my best friend since childhood, had moved back to our hometown of Harbor Mills only a month prior, after her husband Marcus died. I’d told her she was mad for goingback to that little place, but she insisted that being away for so long had given her a newfound respect for the town. It was late, but she answered on the third ring, her voice groggy and worried.

“Avery? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth to say I was fine, but all that came out were sobs. It took her almost five minutes to talk me down and get me calm enough to speak. When I told her what had happened, she didn’t hesitate.

“Come home,” she said. “You still own your grandmother’s house. It’s sitting there, waiting for you. I drive by it every day. Youhavea place to go. Come home. We’ll figure it out from there.”

The old housewasstill in my name. I’d planned to sell it and use the proceeds for Ashton’s college fund. Now? It was the only refuge I had in the shit storm that had become my life. I agreed with her and told Ashton what we were doing when he woke at the crack of dawn.

The expression on his face almost made my heart shatter more than finding Perry with someone else. Realization and understanding painted my son’s face. He’d be leaving everything behind—his friends, his basketball team, his school—if we moved to a little town in Georgia.

But my boy was more of a man than the person who’d almost become his stepfather. Instead of arguing, he nodded sadly. “Okay, Mom. Let’s go.”

I choked back tears as I hugged him, and then we headed back to the house. Perry had left for work, and I already had seven texts and three missed calls from him. Ashton and I packed a fewbags, only what we could fit in the rental car I’d arranged to be delivered while we were there. My car had been a gift from Perry nine months ago, so his name was on the title. I didn’t want to go through the headache of him being a dick and possibly reporting it stolen. It would be expensive to rent a car for a couple weeks, but better than dealing with the police.

I tossed my engagement ring in the toilet, then we left. Before we got into the car, I blocked Perry’s number. In less than twenty-four hours, my life had been turned completely upside down.

Now, here we were, on the worst road trip of our lives, heading toward a new and unplanned future. For his part, Ashton was making the best of it.

“Is Aunt Stormy gonna be there when we get there?” he asked as we took the exit for Harbor Mills.

She wasn’t hisactualaunt, but it was what he’d called her since he was a baby, and Stormy and I loved hearing it.

“She’ll be at work, but she’s going to come by as soon as she can,” I said.

“Cool. I miss playing with Shiloh,” he said, then rested his head against the window.

Shiloh was Stormy’s one-year-old daughter. My best friend had been through the wringer herself. Her husband dying in a car crash six months after having a baby was possibly the most stressful thing she’d ever gone through. It made my issue with Perry small by comparison. She’d returned home to be near her mom, who wanted to help with the baby.

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