Page 187 of Damaged Protector

“So good. It didn’t break down or make any weird noises at all.”

“I can’t believe you bought her a new car,” Cam said, leaning back against the counter with a smirk.

Hawk scowled at him. “She needed it. I’m not having her drive around in that fucking death trap Honda that broke down on the interstate every day. And besides, we bought it together, right Bee?” He smiled fondly at me through his not-quite-the-truth statements.

The Honda had broken down exactly once, and it had been on a surface street, not the highway. As for buying it together, well, that was a bit of a stretch as well. We’d decided to open a bank account together for household stuff, and while I contributed the money I made from my dance lessons, it certainly wasn’t enough to cover the payment on my brand-new red Ford Escape.

“Right,” I agreed because I didn’t feel like arguing with his stubborn ass about this again. I’d been content to get a sensible used vehicle, but my bossy man had been insistent on buying new. “Though I do miss seeing you shirtless underneath the hood of my car when you checked it every week.”

Seriously. Every. Damn. Week.

He kissed the spot just in front of my ear. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll still be checking your new one to make sure it stays in good condition. Fluid levels. Spark plugs. Stuff like that.”

“I do enjoy it when you spark my plugs and check my fluids,” I purred, sliding my hands up his bare, damp chest. I loved when my man was all sweaty and…

A throat cleared from behind Hawk. “Uhh, guys, do I need to be here for this innuendo-filled conversation?”

We parted, and I laughed as I turned to grab a couple bottles of water from the fridge and toss them to the guys. “Sorry. I do want you to stay though. I have to tell you both something.”

The men made themselves comfortable, Cam hopping up on the counter and Hawk taking one of the bar stools.

“I got a phone call today from a lawyer who said she has a group of women who are filing a suit against Bernard Moreau.” I widened my eyes. “For sexual harassment.”

“How did she know about you?” Cam asked.

“She’s calling all of Moreau’s senior-level students from the past ten years to see if they experienced any harassment from him. There are apparently seven other women who have come forward, plus a few more who chose not to participate in the lawsuit.”

Hawk lifted his dark eyebrows. “Wow, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to join them of course. I feel like… I don’t know… like it’s easier to go forward with a team behind me. Like a support system of other women who have gone through the same thing.”

The men shared a smile before Hawk rose and crossed to me, kissing my forehead sweetly. “You do whatever makes you comfortable, Little Bee. The important thing is that he’s going to get his nasty ass nailed to the wall for doing this to women.”

“So you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“I do, but like I said, it’s completely up to you.”

“I know it’ll be hard to talk about in court, but I actually feel really good about this. Like I’m doing something to stop him from hurting other women. I just wanted to talk it through with someone I trusted before I gave her my answer.”

“Good,” Cam said, lifting his water bottle in a salute. “Why don’t you take a couple days to think about it, and then call Kassie back.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said, turning to the refrigerator to get the lunch meat and cheese. Then I froze and turned around to face them, the space between my eyebrows narrowing to nothing. “How did you know the lawyer’s name was Kassie?”

“Shit,” Cam muttered as his eyes met Hawk’s. The look that passed between the two men was a combination of panic and guilt.

“Did you two… know about this?” I asked, my mind churning to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Maybe?” the man beside me said at the same time Cam pointed at him and yelled, “Hawk started it!”

Hawk shot him a glare and then turned back to me with trepidation in his dark eyes. “We wanted Moreau to pay for what he did. I personally would have liked to take care of things in a more… physical way, but I’m also not fond of going to jail.”

I softened, remembering his story about beating the man who hurt his sister all those years ago. I knew he still struggled with his lack of control that night.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I said quietly.

“The thought of that asshole going to prison won out, so we called Kassie Ramirez.”

“But she said she’s based out of New York. How did you know how to contact her?”

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