Page 6 of His Dark Pact

Chapter Two

The Quandary

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THE MOMENT SHE LEFTthe store, she knew she wasn’t going to call him. Temporarily robbed of her sanity, she’d been hypnotized by the stranger with the sexy eyes who’d thoughtfully bought her a loaf of bread, but she wasn’t stupid.

She wasn’t actually going to go on a date with him.

It would be crazy to dine with someone she didn’t even know.

Women her age didn’t do those sorts of things. Especially ones who lived in cramped apartments with bigger things to worry about. She still had Jonah’s program to fund, though God only knew how she’d manage that. Pausing by the trash outside the store, she considered discarding his card, but for some reason, her fingers refused to let the thing go. The quality of the card was soothing, as though running her thumb over its smooth face would manifest the money she needed.

Stupid.

Fleetingly, she contemplated why the dashing Kyle had been there in the first place. He didn’t appear to have any groceries of his own, yet he seemed to have been on his way out when he’d stopped to help her.

Strange.

He had to have been shopping, didn’t he? Why else would he have been there?

She let go of the thought with a shake of her head. What difference did it make why he was there? Hehadbeen, and she was glad. Not only had he paid for her bread, but he’d put a smile on her face, and it had been an eternity since anyone, save for Jonah and his academic achievements, had accomplished that.

She allowed herself to grin as she wandered to her car, scanning the parking lot for evidence of Kyle. He’d left ahead of her, striding out of the store with the sort of confidence she suspected only money could bring. Not that she’d know. She’d never had any real wealth, and after a poor childhood, the most affluence she’d known had been in the transitory years between leaving home and meeting Graham. She’d never been able to dress as well as Kyle. Nor could she afford the type of expensive fragrance she’d smelled on him. She had no way of knowing definitively, but everything about him reeked of wealth.

He’s wrong for me.

Her brow furrowed as she reached her vehicle. She knew implying she wasn’t ‘worthy’ of spending time with someone who might be wealthier than her was illogical and silly. But it was safer to stay in the small, stagnant circle she’d built for herself. Even if that space meant drowning in debt and potentially having to sell her soul to help her child—in a twisted way, she was protected there.

I bet Kyle could afford to help.

Her chuckle was sardonic as she unlocked the doors and slipped into the driver’s seat, depositing the loaf and Kyle’s card on the passenger side. He probably could afford it, but that didn’t mean she’d ever dare to ask for help. Amy didn’t take handouts. It was bad enough that he hadn’t let her pay for the bread. She’d just have to find the money for Jonah fromsomewhere.

“Not another loan.” Her groan was reflexive as she leaned back against the worn headrest.

She doubted she’d be eligible for more credit anyway after all the payments she’d missed, yet the idea of crawling back to the bank and begging for more debt was demoralizing. She had to do something, though. Jonah merited the opportunities that had evaded her. He deserved to thrive.

If only I had enough savings to give him the cash.

She bit down on her growing frustration as she reversed her car from its space.

If only I had something valuable to sell or the sort of wealth that meant I could hand out cash to the people I love.

If only, if only, if only.

As it was, she had nothing.

Pulling out of the parking lot, she steered her focus back to the day.

There were still errands to run.

***

IT WAS HOURS LATERwhen she found Kyle’s card again. She must have picked it up with the loaf and inadvertently thrown it on the tiny kitchen counter because that’s where she’d found it as the encroaching darkness shrouded the studio.

She ran her fingertips across the card again as the memories of her encounter with the tall, dark stranger exploded into her mind. In the haze of chores and traffic, she’d almost forgotten him and his surprising generosity, but leaning against the worktop, it all came flooding back.

“William Kyle.” She murmured his name aloud as her finger grazed over the font. “I wonder if you’re Will or Billy?”

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