Page 101 of Fire Fight

“But they have mandatory reporting.”

A glint of amusement shines in his eye. “Poor schools have mandatory reporting. Rich people handle things in-house.”

“A doctor, then?”

“Do you know one well enough to trust they can’t be bought?” He arches an eyebrow at me, and I wrinkle my nose. “Just stay out of his way when he’s in a mood. You’ll pick up the warning signs easily enough.”

That sounds a horribly familiar way to live. I’ve been scolded to avoid antagonising men before, but this time is harder because it was less expected. I’m guilty of equating his pleasant manner to a good heart rather than a reaction to his easy life.

I thought rich people werebetter.

“Is his violence why your mum left him?”

He shrugs. “We never talked about him. Whenever I raised the subject, she just said my dad was a fling, and he didn’t want to know.” There’s a long pause and Drake lets out a shuddering breath. “I think he hurt me when I was a baby.”

“Your head injury?”

He nods, eyes closing as his arms wrap around me. His breathing slows. Even though I’m wound up, wanting to pokeand prod and question, I keep silent. He needs rest more than he needs to tell me his dark family secrets.

As I listen to him sleeping, I think of the reporter and the card that must still be sitting in my jeans pocket. I wonder if this was part of what Maggie revealed to her.

Maybe the police or school counsellors aren’t a good bet. Maybe Arnold really does have them all in his pocket.

But there are other ways to fight. If I can get Drake to agree.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

DRAKE

When I wake,Cadence sleeps nestled inside my arms, puffing hot breaths across my chest until the hairs flutter. She looks utterly content, and I choke a little, rubbing my knuckle across her cheek, unable to believe how good it is to hold her.

Yesterday had so many difficulties, it’s hard to keep track. But since she’s here, I think we’re good.

I hope we’re good because this is how I want to wake every morning from now on.

She looks too peaceful to disturb.

I try to shift quietly so I don’t alarm her, but groan at a shiver of pain before I get it under control. My back hurts worse now than when Arnold hit me last night, high on adrenaline and fear he’d strike out at Cadence instead.

Or because the shame of being whipped like a goddamn kid overrode everything else.

The same embarrassment made me turn down Cadence’s initial offer of help but this time, I’m glad she ignored me.

Her breath hitches and she makes a sleepy snort before blinking awake. She stares at me through heavy-lidded eyes, tousled bed hair looking like an invitation. My cock gives a little jerk of excitement, not caring that my back is on fire or there’s a one-man safety issue downstairs we need to solve.

“Good morning,” she whispers, voice laden with sleep.

“A very good morning.” I pluck one of her hands from where they’re curled against my chest and kiss the knuckles, rubbing the back of it against my stubble-encrusted cheek before returning it to her control. “This is nice. I wouldn’t mind waking to you in my bed every single day.”

I shift again, reflexes not quick enough to stifle my small groan and her face floods with recognition. “Can I get you some painkillers?”

“Don’t worry.” I capture her hand again to anchor her to the spot. “Just stay right where you are.”

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” Her eyes are teary, lower lip trembling as she takes on board the blame she doesn’t deserve.

It makes me think of last night as she aggressively told me where to stick my forgiveness. Apparently, the spirited defence only applies to her mother because here she is, voluntarily doing the same thing she scolded me for.

“None of this is your fault.”

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