Page 10 of Hold On Through The Pain

“We practice on each other sometimes.”

“Well, it looks good.”

“Thank you. I’ll give you directions to my dad’s house, but you have to stay outside. I can’t bring anyone of the opposite sex over while he’s at work.”

“How will he know?”

“He has cameras set up in the den, back door, and front door.”

Worry filled Striker and he stared at her for a moment, unsure if he could allow her to stay at that house. He didn’t know her, but he feared for her safety. She said she only had two months of school left, so maybe she’d be okay, but he didn’t like it one bit.

He parked down the street from her house, exactly where she asked him to park. It took every amount of restraint he had not to run into her house and tell her to move the freak out and come with him. But he had a job that wasn’t here, and she had school which was. They were trapped in circumstances neither of them could control.

A car puttered down the street, slowing as it grew near. Jesus, what if that was her dad? Would he freak out and hurt her? His stomach twisted as the car slowed even more. She’d already suffered one beating this weekend; he didn’t want her to suffer more.

5

Shannon grabbeda backpack and stuffed two days’ worth of clothes in the bottom before grabbing her equipment she’d need for school. Striker would most likely be scared off by her overflowing bags.

After pulling on pants and a T-shirt, she wrote a note to her dad, telling him she was sleeping at Ashley’s house. He didn’t know Ashley, so he couldn’t check up on her. In two months, she’d be able to work full-time. By the time she got her license a month or so later, she could have a goodjob lined up, and she wouldn’t be forced to live here.

She’s spent years agreeing with everything her dad said just to keep the peace. That had been difficult recently. Her black eye would make him ask questions she didn’t want to answer. Her dad had blown up at her another time when she’d not flirted with a guy at the grocery store. He’d accused her of being gay, like that would even matter. She didn’t want to date someone she wasn’t interested in, and she wouldn’t pretend to be nice to some stranger just because he followed her all over the grocery store. It was weird to have someone stalk her up one row and then another, ultimately to follow her to the meat area. She wouldn’t encourage that type of behavior.

After locking the door, she headed to the street. They’d already stopped at the pharmacy before heading over here, so they didn’t have that errand to do. Now they could enjoy the day together. Striker’s arm didn’t seem to be bothering him, and she’d taken a few tablets to stave off the pain from her black eye.

Striker got out of the truck as soon as he saw her, and she gave her head a small shake then called out, “Not yet. The camera is wide. Just wait there.”

She hurried down the walk in her tennis shoes, which were much more comfortable than the cuteshoes she’d been wearing the night before. Maybe she should have dressed up, but this was her. If he didn’t like her plain and relaxed, he wasn’t the man for her.

“You should have let me carry your bags for you. These are heavy,” Striker said.

A laugh bubbled up from her chest as he placed the bags into his truck. He cut his gaze to her, his honey brown eyes warming her. He probably expected her to explain the laugh, but it wasn’t worth mentioning that she carried heavy packs all the time.

“I’m guessing you want me to back up—that way the truck doesn’t show on the camera?”

“I’m sorry. He’s not really too much of a jerk; he’s just old-fashioned and has certain, um, expectations. He’s not bad, he just isn’t great.”

The engine roared to life, and Striker was true to his word. The truck rolled backward, and she was sure the camera wouldn’t show them. She glanced at him, thinking his sharp jaw dusted with stubble was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, even with him frowning. He stayed silent, not commenting on her weird rules about her father and her home.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they were gone from her street.

“Okay, now that we have clothes for you, let’s go eat.”

“I could eat. There’s a Waffle House not too far from here.”

His lips spread in a smile before he glanced to her. “Sounds good.”

She told him where to turn, and they were in the parking lot in minutes.

“You ready?” Striker asked.

“Sure am.”

Striker popped the door on his side, then moved fast, stepping around the front of the truck to her side before she could even attempt to get out. He held her hand, then put his arm around her as they walked in. The woman at the counter gave her a second glance, then frowned at Striker. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what that was about.

Shannon settled in a booth and ordered her usual scrambled eggs and bacon. Striker ordered enough to feed a family of four. She had enough tip money from her clients at the school’s salon she could afford to eat out once a week. Maybe she could get him to run by a store, and she could pick up something to heat in the microwave in the room.

Striker reached across the table, weaving their fingers together. “So after breakfast, you want to show me around downtown?”

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