Page 56 of Undeniably Corrupt
He watches me dress his cuts and utters, “I took care of it.”
“Tell me.”
He puffs out a breath and takes the ointment from me, then dabs it on my face over my scrapes. “I broke his hands because he put them on you and his legs because he admitted to chasing you. I threw him in the dumpster and left him crying like a little bitch. If his hands are broken, he can’t touch you or Hazel, and if his legs are broken, he can’t chase you either.”
A shudder runs through me. What he did should scare the crap out of me. He just broke a man’s bones, and it’s not the first time he was violent on my behalf. But I also know he’d never hurt me. It’s not who he is. He’s a protector, not an aggressor.He’s nothing like my father, who preys on the weak. Vander hurt Ricky because he hurt me.
I nod and swallow, suddenly shaking so badly I can hardly stand. My teeth sink into my lip, and he cups my face, his thumbs brushing tears I hadn’t realized I allowed to fall. He looks as broken and tormented as I feel.
“No, baby. Don’t cry. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I swear, you’re safe.” He pulls me into his chest and holds me, and I lose it. I can’t… I can’t do this. Not now. Not with him. Not like this.
“Don’t call me baby.”
“What?” He pulls back, his hands back on my face, wiping more stupid tears.
“Don’t call me baby like that.” I shake my head and grip his shirt in my fists. “I can’t…” I blow out a breath, desperate to regain control. “Just don’t.”
He smiles. “Do you remember the first time I called you that?”
I do, but I shake my head anyway.
“We were at the playground at the elementary school. We snuck out. Well, you snuck out, and I met you there. I held your hand and kissed you for the first time. I said, ‘Baby, I’m gonna kiss you now,’ and I did. You told me you weren’t the type of girl who went around kissing every boy. That you wouldn’t be just some girl for me to kiss before I moved on to the next.” His fingers trace the lines of my face. “I said, ‘Then I guess I’ll have to make you my girlfriend so the only one I kiss is you.’”
My forehead meets his chest, and I bite my lip to the point of drawing blood so I don’t sob. What is he doing to me? I’m desperate to keep him out, and he’s worming his way back in. He’s not even trying to, and I doubt that’s what he wants, but how do I stop it when he’s like this?
He pulls my face up and catches on my lip. Before I know what he’s doing, he dips, and just as I think he’s about to kiss me, he takes my bottom lip between his and sucks on it, tastingmy blood and licking the sting of the cut with his tongue. My eyes close, and my grip on his shirt tightens.
Mercifully, he pulls back, his expression intent once again. “Why are you still dancing?”
That catches me off guard, but I don’t bother to ask how he knows. There’s no point. “Because you could fire me tomorrow, and all that money would disappear in a second. Trust me, I know how fast things can change like that. Besides, I have too many bills right now, and dancing pays well and is all I have time for as a second job. If I want out of this neighborhood, I need more than just your paycheck right now to get us there.”
He grits his teeth and stares at my cheek, which is hot and swollen. “Everyone told me I can’t follow you. That I can’t—” He blows out a harsh, frustrated breath and drops his forehead to my shoulder, his hands around the small of my back. Instinctively, my fingers run through the soft strands of his hair.
“Can’t what?” I question when he doesn’t say more.
His head pops up, and his troubled green eyes meet mine before they drop to my lips and hold. “Can’t do anything I want.” He stares at my mouth, and I don’t dare move. Finally, he clears his throat and looks out into my apartment. “You’re moving from here. Tomorrow morning, we’re moving you.”
“Um. No.”
His gaze snaps back to mine. “Yes. You’re moving in with me. Because I can keep you safe, and then you and Hazel won’t be living in a building where your neighbors are cooking meth and the guy on the corner who sells it attacks you when he feels like it.”
“No.”
He’s incredulous. “How can you say no?”
“Because I can do it myself, and I can’t live with you.”
“Will you let me get you a place?”
My eyes narrow. “No. I don’t want your money beyond what I earn.”
“So stubborn, my angel.” His thumb glides just beneath my cut. “Don’t do it for me. Don’t even do it for yourself. Do it for Hazel.”
He grabs the bag of ice cream from the counter and starts to go through my cabinets, finding bowls and spoons. I don’t have an ice cream scoop, so he moves past that as he makes Hazel a sundae that has her squealing. He sits on the floor beside her, eating ice cream and watching more Daniel Tiger.
A sob catches in my throat.
He made me a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough with sprinkles and no whipped cream because, again, he remembered I don’t care for it. He pats the space beside him, and reluctantly, I take it.
