Ruthless Protector (A Lawless Kings Novel Book 4) Page 12

  “Willa?” he said, a question in his voice, a question I did not want to answer.

  “What?” I carried on avoiding that stare, avoided him, and started putting away the groceries I’d gotten earlier. He wanted me. And God help me, I wanted him too, but the way I wanted him right then, it terrified the hell out of me.

  If we talked about it, if we tried to put it into words, I’d cave, and I’d never be able to stop this thing burning between us. This thing that felt so damn big. Too big.

  I’d let it engulf me.

  I’d burn to ash.

  Another deafening, heavy silence.

  “So what did you want?” I asked, breaking the quiet tension. I glanced over at him when he didn’t answer right away. He was watching me, something I couldn’t name, something I couldn’t bear to see, staring back at me. “Look I’m kinda busy,” I choked out. “Whatever this is about will have to wait.”

  My pulse was racing, thumping so hard I felt out of breath. I wanted to go to him, I wanted to run the other way. I was so confused my stomach was in knots.

  His hands went to his hips. “All right, sweetheart,” he finally said, low and gritty. “I see how it is.”

  I froze, then shoved a packet of pasta in the cupboard as his words sunk in. “Hmm?” I said, when I knew exactly what he meant. I’d had a change of heart. What I’d offered was now off the table.

  Was it, though? Is that what I’d just done? I guess I had. Suddenly, I felt ill.

  “Message received,” he said. “Loud and clear.”

  Jude had just bowed out. He wouldn’t push for more from me, not now. Honestly, I didn’t blame him.

  I carried on, pretending to fuss about the kitchen, still studiously avoiding those brown eyes. A wave of sadness hit me out of nowhere, like a tsunami. Christ, I thought I might actually cry. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “I’ll be moving into the apartment downstairs until the repairs to my place are done. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way.” Then he turned and walked out.

  My gaze snapped to him, to his retreating back, the words on the tip of my tongue. “Don’t go.” But I bit them back because they weren’t the only things that were flying through my mind.

  I’m terrified.

  You make me feel safe.

  I’m so damn lonely.

  I need you.

  Those last words jolted me back to reality, and not just out of my own head. I grabbed for the table like the ground was pulled from beneath my feet.

  “Don’t let a man fuck up your life like I did, Willa, like Mom did. I…I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Tilly if anything happens to me. Promise me you’ll raise her right. No man. You’ll look after my baby, you’ll keep her safe, and you’ll do it on your own.”

  I couldn’t fight it anymore, and agony washed over me, wave after intensifying wave, the tears stinging my eyes, spilling over. I’d let Rebecca down while she was alive. I hadn’t done enough. And I knew in my soul, it was my fault she was gone. My fault Tilly didn’t have her mom. If only I’d forced her to go back to rehab sooner. God, I don’t know, locked her in the damned basement until she was better. She’d still be here.

  I’d made Rebecca a promise. A promise I intended to keep. I wouldn’t let down her daughter like I had her. I’d moved heaven and earth to protect her. To do right by her. And that started with abiding by her mother’s wishes.

  Still, I found myself moving to the living room window, watching through the net curtains as Jude grabbed something else from the saddle bag on his bike and took it into the apartment.

  He appeared back outside a moment later, locked the door, and got back on his bike.

  I jumped when the engine roared to life.

  He revved it a few times, and glanced up at my apartment. Something rose up in me, something so strong I actually took a step toward the front door, my hand reaching for the handle. But before I could pull it open, I heard him ride away.

  I pressed my forehead to the cool wood. It was for the best. Tilly and I were better off alone.

  Jude didn’t come back that night, or the two after that.

  It was late. I wasn’t tired, but I couldn’t relax. I felt guilty, like I had for the last few nights. Where was he sleeping? I could only assume he was staying away because of me, and that made me feel shitty. This was his house. He’d let me live here, rent free, while I found a new job, and even then, hadn’t hassled me for payment. He should be downstairs now.

  I went back to the living room and stared out the window, still no bike parked out there. I headed back to the kitchen and sat at the table, pulling my phone from my pocket, and stared down at it. I should call him, but what would I even say?

  I clicked open a new message. Maybe a text? Less personal that way.

  Was I really going to do this?

  I typed something out quickly. Are you staying away because of me?

  My finger hovered over the send button.

  What was I doing? Sending a message was a stupid idea. Better to just leave things as they were.

  “Aunt Willa!”

  I jumped, and my thumb came down, accidentally hitting send.

  “Shit.” I stared down at the message. Delivered flashed up instantly. My stomach knotted. That message was way too revealing, God, too vulnerable.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I clicked away, unable to look at it, and put my phone face down on the table, like that would somehow make it go away. “What is it, Tils?” I called back.

  “I’m thirsty. Can you bring me a drink of water?”

  I took her a drink, trying not to think about the message I’d just sent, gave her warm cheek another kiss goodnight after she gulped down half the glass, then tucked her back in. She was asleep again before I walked out the door.

  My phone buzzed against the kitchen table while I was putting the glass in the sink. Crap. I sat down heavily at the table at stared down at my phone, like it was a venomous spider, then quickly flipped it over and opened my messages.

  On an out of town job. Back Friday.

  I groaned and scrubbed my hands over my face. Why the hell had I thought he was avoiding me? He wasn’t some lovesick teenager. He was a grown ass man. Jesus, I’d made a complete and utter fool out of myself.

  Another message came through before I could reply, not that I had any idea what to say.

  How’s everything back home?

  There he went, being goddamn nice again. I quickly typed out a reply. All good here.

  That was friendly enough. It didn’t sound snappy, and not over the top forgive-me-for-being-a-bitch either.

  I assumed that’d be the end of it, then my phone buzzed again.

  Tilly?

  Okay, that was…nice, asking after her like that. She’s good too. Though, we’ve had a few issues with a bully at school.

  I had no idea why I told him about that, but he seemed to like Tilly, and this kind of felt like waving a white flag. A safe subject.

  We text back and forth for a bit, since he wanted to know what was happening. He even gave some pretty good advice, which I appreciated.

  Jude: If all else fails, I’ll pick her up from school on my bike and she can point the little fucker out.

  I chuckled to myself. I knew he was joking, but it was sweet. Hot on the heels of that thought was of my own ride on the back of his bike. The way my blood had pumped hotly though my veins. The exhilaration. How good it had felt pressed against Jude’s big, hard body. I shivered.

  Again, another message came through before I had time to answer, and it was like he’d just read my mind.

  I’ll take her aunt for another ride too, if she wants?

  It was insane how much I wanted that. On the back of Jude’s Harley, arms wrapped around him, the wind in my hair. That feeling of freedom, of safety, it was something I hadn’t felt in a really long time.

  Maybe.

  I cursed softly as soon as I sent it. That was totally giving him mixe
d signals. I quickly typed another text before he could reply, before this little conversation could go in a direction it shouldn’t.

  So what are you doing? Or is it a secret squirrel assignment?

  Hunting.

  A bad guy?

  I knew they went after people who skipped out on their court dates. Like bounty hunters or whatever. Because I’d checked The King Agency website. I didn’t want to think about why I did that, why I’d wanted to know where he worked and what he did.

  Yeah.

  I shivered again. His job was dangerous, but I knew Jude was more than capable. Honestly, it was kind of a turn-on. Everything about the man was a turn-on.

  Happy hunting.

  Going to bed?

  Belly flutter. Yup.

  I’m on surveillance tomorrow. A lot of sitting on my hands, going stir crazy. Can I text you?

  Could he? What harm could it possibly do? Jude was still my landlord; it would be in my best interest to get along with him, right?

  That’s what I told myself as I typed my reply and hit send.

  Sure.

  11

  Willa

  “We have a zero-tolerance policy for physical violence at this school. We have no option but to suspend Tilly for two days.”

  I stared across the desk at the asshole who seemed to be loving every moment of this. Tilly sat beside me, her head dipped, hands clasped together, visibly upset, and I was close to jumping across the short distance and gouging his goddamn eyes out.

  “You can’t be serious,” I said, trying with everything I had to keep my cool because losing my shit here, in front of this jumped up little prick, wouldn’t help Tilly.

  “I assure you, I am completely serious,” he said, his thin, pinched little mouth tightening on his pasty face.

  “This kid, Blake, has been bullying Tilly for weeks. I’ve spoken to her teacher more than once about it. I’ve had her coming home in tears after he’s picked on her all damn day, and this is how you help her, this is how she gets treated for sticking up for herself…protecting herself, after you failed to do that for her?” Okay, maybe I wasn’t keeping a lid on my emotions as well as I should, but Tilly had been bullied enough in her life, starting with her asshole father.

  “Blake has been spoken to…”

  “Has he been suspended as well? He pulled her hair.”

  “Well, no…”

  “Why not,” I fired at him.

  “Because Blake wasn’t physically violent, and Tilly was.”

  “He did so pull my hair,” Tilly said, her face red with anger.

  Mr. Clayton looked at her. “Not another word from you, young lady.” His gaze slid back to me. “No one saw him pull her hair, but we have several witnesses that saw her punch Blake.”

  I stared at him, at his too-close-together blue eyes, the superior tilt to his thin mouth, and I knew I couldn’t win, no matter how wrong, how unfair, or how messed up this was. I would not win. And I hated how helpless that made me. I didn’t want my niece to think she had to sit back and allow people to treat her badly, that there was no damn justice.

  “Sometimes, Mr. Clayton, words do a lot more damage than fists. I don’t agree with violence either, but Tilly did the only thing she could when this school failed her. She shouldn’t have to put up with a bully, she shouldn’t have to put up with abuse of any kind, from anyone.” I pointed at him. “You failed her, Mr. Clayton. You made it so she had no other choice but do what she did.”

  “I don’t agree…there is never any reason to get physical.”

  I stood and held my hand out for Tilly. “Bullies come in all shapes and sizes; some on the playground, and some in positions of power, hiding behind big desks. The one thing they all have in common? They’re cowards.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  Yeah, I’m talking about you, you weaselly fucker.

  “If you don’t stand up to them, they’ll keep on mistreating you. I don’t want my niece to think that’s okay, that she shouldn’t protect herself when she needs to. So, we’ll take the two days, Mr. Clayton, because you’ve given us no choice, but if she comes back here and you don’t stop the bullying, you’ll be seeing me again, and I can assure you, I won’t be so friendly.”

  I led Tilly from the room, shutting the door softly behind me, and we walked out of the school.

  “You’re not mad with me?” Tilly said, when we walked out and headed down the street.

  I pulled up short and crouched down, taking both her hands in mine. “No, baby, I’m not.”

  “He did pull my hair, Willa, and he’s done it before.”

  It took everything in me to stop the rage from coming through in my voice. “I believe you, Tils.” I tweaked her nose. “Of course, that doesn’t mean you should be punching people left and right.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just got so mad.”

  “You had good reason to be mad. I think Blake might think twice before pulling another girls hair.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “Now, I want you to promise me that you won’t let this, what happened in that office, stop you from protecting yourself if you have to.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good girl. Now let’s go get some ice cream. Just think how angry that would make grumpy Mr. Clayton.”

  Tilly giggled, and the center of my chest warmed at the sound. She’d looked so small and afraid when I’d walked into that office. I never wanted to see her like that again. We walked a little way down the street and I waved down a cab. Tilly scrambled in and I was about to follow when I spotted Trent across the street, watching us.

  I quickly climbed in, and pulled the door shut.

  Fuck.

  Jethro was back.

  He’d come to the club twice last week, both times right when I’d finished my shifts, thank God. Still, his eyes had found me, had followed me, as I’d left the club. The guy was a major creep and after what Jude said about him, he terrified the hell out of me.

  He always had a crew with him, usually goons that stood there, looking intimidating. This time, he had a couple of guys I recognized from the poker game. His pasty friend with the light eyes, Donny, was one of them, and another guy from the game, whose name I didn’t know.

  They were giving one of the girls their drink order; that’s when Jethro’s eyes came to me and he grinned, in a way that lifted the hair on the back of my neck.

  I spun away quickly and headed for the back of the club. I needed to get ready for my dance and I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it with that revolting, twisted prick watching me.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder before I reached the dressing room, and I shrieked and jerked away, getting the fright of my life.

  It was Josie, one of the other dancers. My face heated.

  “Hey, girl, you all right?” she asked.

  “Sorry.” I shook my head. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  She planted a hand on her hip, not looking convinced. “You up for a private dance? I said you were due onstage, but he wants you now. Said he’d pay double if you’d switch with someone else.”

  Dread crawled down my spine. “Who?”

  “The suit with the greasy smile and the fat wallet that just walked in with an entourage.”

  Jethro.

  I was shaking my head before she finished talking. “I’ll pass.” I hadn’t done any private dances yet, and I wasn’t sure if I would. Jethro sure as hell wasn’t going to be my first one if I did.

  Josie blinked at me. “You’re gonna pass on all that cash?”

  I grabbed for the door handle behind me, suddenly feeling unsteady. The last thing I would ever do was lock myself in a room with a man known for his sadistic treatment of women. “I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

  Josie shrugged. “You still shaken from that grabby asshole?”

  Trent had text earlier, right after I’d seen him outside the school. He wanted more mo
ney. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I’d stupidly hoped he’d disappear.

  So, I’d given in and told Raul I was available for lap dances.

  Two of the guys were just there for a laugh with friends; they were fun, generous with tips, and followed the rules. The third guy I danced for had a look in his eyes that had given me pause. He’d whispered sick things to me while I danced for him, and then he’d touched me and had gotten aggressive about it.

  I’d tried not to freak out, and Bret, one of the bouncers was there in moments, hauling him out of the club, but Josie was right; it had definitely left me shaken.

  “I guess,” I said.

  She gave me a knowing look, squeezed my hand, and turned to walk away. I grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Avoid him, Josie, the suit out there. I’ve heard things about him…just, you should stay away from him.”

  She looked surprised, but nodded. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  Another dancer at a city club had vanished, and though Raul made sure we were safe and we were out of the target area, as the police called it, we couldn’t be too careful. We had to look out for each other.

  I forced myself to do my job, took the stage, and did my dance, not once looking in the direction of the club where Jethro was sitting.

  After, I found Raul and told him I was feeling sick and left early.

  I couldn’t stand being in the same room with that man.

  When I got home, I climbed in the shower, the water as hot as I could handle it, and let it wash over me. Wash away the feeling of hands, of hot alcohol breath, of lewd words grunted in my ears.

  I’d called Fay on the way home and let her know I’d be a little late picking up Tils. I’d wanted to shower, to get my head straight, before I saw her.

  I quickly dressed and ran over. Fay had her friend there visiting. Jennifer was tall, had long brown hair, and like Fay, had been treated very well by time. I knew she used to be a dancer for Raul’s family. You could tell how happy they were to see each other, how close they were, and I felt a little envious that Fay had her.