Page 4 of Tempting Devil

I cursed under my breath, clenching my jaw.

Like most kids in my program, Jonah had a rough home life — an abusive father who drank a lot, then took it out on everyone else. This was the reason he wanted to learn martial arts. Not to be able to hurt his asshole father, but to learn how to take a punch so his mother didn’t have to.

As I learned early in life, calling the police didn’t always help in these types of situations. Especially for kids who lived in neighborhoods where violence and crime ran rampant. Even if the cops did make an arrest, it rarely helped. The instant they returned home, things would be much worse than they were before. Instead, you just learned to take the abuse as you counted down the days until you could finally be free.

Me:

Are you okay? How about your mom?

Jonah:

I was able to distract him long enough for her to get out with the younger ones.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated that this was the world Jonah was forced to grow up in. I didn’t have it much better, but at least I had my foster brothers to depend on when shit got bad.

I was the only person Jonah had.

Me:

Want me to call someone?

I didn’t know why I bothered asking. His answer was always the same. Just like mine was. Which was why I hadn’t intervened.

Yet.

Instead, I’d done everything I could to teach Jonah how to defend himself and the rest of his family.

Jonah:

Can you come get me?

I checked the time to see it was almost midnight. It would probably take me about twenty-five minutes to get to his neighborhood. I needed to wake up early for an important meeting with the heads of a company that had been trying to buy our firm from Liam and me, which I resisted at every turn. Still did.

But if Jonah needed me, I’d be there for him.

Like I wished someone had been there for me all those years I hid in my room praying I wouldn’t hear the floorboards creak near my door.

Me:

Will you be okay until I can get there?

Jonah:

I’m out of the house, but I’d rather not sleep on the street tonight, even if it’s safer.

I cursed again, hating he thought it was safer to sleep on the street in a rough section of Atlanta than in his own bed.

Me:

Drop a pin and I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Without wasting another second, I jumped to my feet and grabbed my keys. As I made my way toward the front door, I paused by the hallway closet and opened the safe, retrieving my pistol. Then I dashed out of my house and into my SUV.

The streets of my residential neighborhood were relatively quiet this late at night. Growing up in foster care, I never could have imagined owning such a nice house in the upscale Buckhead area of Atlanta. While some people in the foster care system had great placements, I wasn’t so lucky. Instead, each placement only seemed to get worse. The only thing that saved me was martial arts and wrestling. Because of that, I was awarded a full scholarship to college. If that had never happened, I wasn’t sure where I would have been today.

Probably in prison.

Or worse.

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