Page 1 of Saving Trinity (Finding Hope #5)

Chapter One

Jimmie

M y keys clanged loudly in the otherwise silent house as I tossed them onto the kitchen counter.

Bracing a hand against the wall, I toed my dirty boots off, grimacing at the smell of my feet.

It’d been a long, hot day of running cattle, and I smelled just about as bad as the cows themselves did.

I was in desperate need of a hot shower and clean clothes.

Snatching the shoe powder from the shelf built into the wall by the front door, I sprinkled some into my boots, then headed for the laundry room to peel my sweaty, disgusting clothes off and toss them straight into the washer.

After throwing a laundry pod in, I closed the lid and hit start, making my way through the living room and to my bedroom.

I was just starting the shower when my fucking phone rang. Goddammit . A man couldn’t even get a second of peace in his own home, even when he lived alone.

Growling beneath my breath, I made my way to the laundry room, where I’d left the damned device. But all my irritation at being bothered bled away when I saw Trinity’s name on the screen.

Trinity and I had a… complicated history.

We’d messed around in college a bit. I’d pursued her endlessly.

She’d been one of the only women to ever turn me down, and I’d become hell bent on proving to her that she couldn’t resist me.

One night, we got drunk at a frat party and ended up sleeping together.

Neither of us was interested in a relationship, but we couldn’t deny the sex had been fucking phenomenal.

Hell, it was still some of the best sex I’d ever had.

But then, shortly after we began our fling, she went MIA for a few weeks.

Disappeared from college. Completely ignored all my calls and texts.

And when she’d shown back up, she’d informed me that not only was she pregnant, but she was moving away to live with her sister because her parents had kicked her out.

We’d kept contact, and when her due date drew closer, I drove across numerous states so I could be at the hospital with her and see our little boy be born.

Since then, we’d been managing this coparenting thing the best we could while being states away from each other.

I’d finished college, and I’d bought a large piece of farmland, finally getting to do what I wanted despite my father turning his back on me for not going to law school.

I got to have Wyatt, our little boy, three times a year for a month at a time, and we did video calls twice a week so I could talk to Wyatt.

Our setup wasn’t perfect, but Trinity was attending one of the best med schools available where she was at, and I didn’t want to rip that from her just so we could be closer.

And while we’d toyed with the idea of me moving to be closer to them, she’d insisted that living there wasn’t where she planned to settle down and had instead urged me to follow my dreams here.

Even though Trinity and I had ended things several years ago—almost five years ago, to be exact—I still had a soft spot for her. She was the only woman outside of my found family that I had a soft spot for. Seeing her name on my screen always bled out any aggravation I felt.

But she was calling outside of our normal time, which meant something was wrong. And that settled with me about as well as swallowing battery acid would.

“Hey,” I said when I answered. Turning, I leaned my bare back against the washer and crossed my arm over my chest, resting my hand in the elbow of my other arm. “What’s up?”

She sniffled. I straightened. When she sobbed, my heart stopped in my chest. “Trinity?” I asked, my voice rough.

“What’s going on?” Trinity wasn’t a crier.

I’d never known her to cry. The only other time she’d cried was when our little boy had been placed on her chest and she got to look at him for the first time.

“I—” She hiccupped. “I need help, Jimmie.” She was crying harder now, making whatever she tried to say next unintelligible.

“Baby, stop,” I urged, the term slipping before I could stop it. This wasn’t Trinity. Trinity was headstrong and fierce. Even when the world was beating her down, she kept her chin held high and fire burned in her eyes as red as her copper hair.

“I need you to breathe, Trinity. Can you do that for me? Can you breathe, baby? Deep inhale. Come on.” Her shaky inhale reached my ears. “That’s it. Good girl. Slowly release it.” Once she released it, I said, “Again. Deep inhale.”

We followed that pattern three more times, and finally, she managed to croak, “Can you come get us? Please, Jimmie. And you’ll need your truck. We can’t stay here any longer.”

My brain was firing on all cylinders, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Trinity was in med school. She was going to be starting her internship soon at the hospital near her.

What the fuck was going on that made her change her mind?

Just two days ago, she’d been telling me how great everything was going.

Fuck, her boyfriend had even proposed over the fucking weekend, which hadn’t settled all that well with me considering I was jealous as fuck, but she’d been happy .

And Wyatt loved the man to pieces. He was a decent guy, and he treated both her and Wyatt well.

He was a doctor himself, so they’d both be set up for life with him.

“You know I’ll come,” I promised her, already making my way to the bathroom so I could take the fastest shower in history. “I need to shower, but while I’m showering, I need you to tell me what’s going on, Trinity.”

I set my phone on the side of the tub and stepped under the spray of water.

“Zac… I don’t know what happened.” She hiccupped.

“My mind is still reeling. But he—he tried to hit Wyatt over something as simple as Wyatt not wanting asparagus for dinner. He’s never eaten asparagus.

I don’t know why he made it, but he just—he got so angry , Jimmie. ”

I was going to fucking kill him for raising his hand to my son, but I didn’t say that to her. Instead, I kept my cool, focusing on washing my hair. “Keep going,” I gently urged.

“I got in the middle. Told Wyatt to go to his room and shut the door. And Zac just started yelling . He called me a whore for having a kid out of wedlock, told me the only reason I got the internship at the hospital was because he pulled strings, and when I told him I was packing a bag and spending the night with my sister, he—he—” She sobbed again.

The sound tore at my already fragile composure.

“Baby,” I drew in a deep breath as I rinsed my hair, “keep it together for me. Okay? I need you to tell me what the fuck he did.”

“I’m… bleeding,” she croaked.

I lifted my head, blinking at the wall across from me. I’m bleeding.

I’m bleeding.

I’m bleeding .

“Did he fucking rape you, Trinity?” I growled, my fingers curling into a fist.

Her whimper was all the confirmation I needed.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming my fists against the wall.

My chest heaved, and my arms trembled with the restraint it took to not tear my entire fucking bathroom apart.

Hanging my head between my shoulders, I forced myself to breathe slow and deep.

In for five, out for seven. Over and over and fucking over again.

“Where is he now?” I asked her, thankful my voice was calm again.

“He went out,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m at my sister’s. Her husband is here. But I can’t stay here, Jimmie.”

I slicked my long, dark hair back from my face and blew out a harsh breath. “I need you to go to the hospital, Trinity. One where he doesn’t have access as a doctor. And I need you to have a rape kit done, okay? He’s not getting away with this. Can you do that?”

“I can’t leave Wyatt,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Leave him with your sister, baby. He doesn’t need to know any of this, you hear me? He’s just a kid. Our trauma never touches him,” I reminded her. She sniffled. “Do you have a friend who can take you? You have to get to the hospital.”

“I can call Derek,” she said softly. “Zac has never liked him, so I think I’m safe with him.”

Derek, Derek, Derek. I wracked my brain, trying to remember who Derek was, but I was coming up blank. “Who’s Derek?”

“He was Wyatt’s daycare teacher,” she reminded me.

Oh . Him . He was a good guy. I’d only ever met him once, and that was when Trinity was buried under so much homework, she asked if I could pick Wyatt up from daycare and bring him to see her at the library before I brought him back here for my visitation time. Wyatt had been almost one at the time.

Derek was a muscular guy who hit the gym a lot, had a good sense of humor, and he hit on me the first time he met me.

“Get Derek to take you,” I told her. “As soon as I finish my shower, I’ll grab Dylan and Byron, and we’ll hit the road. You’re not leaving without your things.”

“Jimmie—” she whispered, her voice wobbling.

“No arguments, Trinity. You and Wyatt need your things. We’ll do things the legal way; I promise. I’ll get a police officer on the scene. Zac can’t touch you again, you hear me? Just do not go anywhere alone. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she swore. “Please hurry, Jimmie. I’m… I’m terrified.”

My heart clenched all while anger burned through my veins on her and our son’s behalf. “I’m coming as fast as possible, baby.”