Page 8 of Stay Baby Stay

“Trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t nothing easy about this kind of money.”

I finish off the last of my champagne. Jack watches my throat closely as I swallow, his gaze warm and intense.

“How old are you, Mia?”

“Eighteen,” I say.

For a second, I think he looks relieved. His face is kind. I hate to think he’s a creep like the rest of the men here, but why else would he be at this party?

“You in some kind of trouble?” he asks.

“Why? You want to rescue me again?”

He chuckles. “Just wondering if you could use a getaway.”

Kenzie and I lock eyes from across the room. She makes a crude gesture with her fingers at the sight of me sitting so close with a man. I purse my lips, grateful I went with full-coverage foundation tonight, otherwise my cheeks would be as red as the hair on my head.

“I’d love to get the hell out of here,” I say. “But I can’t leave my friend. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Anytime,” he says, and I get the feeling he means it.

I have no good reason to trust Jack, but it's rare that I meet someone who’s so easy to talk to. Someone who doesn't make me break out in a cold sweat just by looking at them. The only other person I feel this comfortable around is Kenzie.

The chair’s arm is sharp and unforgiving against my backside. Before I realize it, I’m sliding down onto Jack’s lap. His arms go around me, but unlike the old man, his hold doesn’t feel confining. It feels protective, comforting. Like sinking into bed.

“My name’s not Mia,” I tell him. “It’s Holly. I’m sorry I lied.”

“Nah, you’re smart not to advertise your real name. I bet most of the girls here are going by some kind of alias. Now, how old are you really?”

I laugh softly. “That, I didn’t lie about.”

“Thank fucking God.” He touches his temple to mine. I probably shouldn’t have told him my real name. He’s a stranger, no one special to me. But part of me hated the thought of lying to him.

“Seems like you’re the only man here who cares to ask how old we are.”

“Oh, they care,” he says, with an edge to his voice. “They’re just hoping for a different answer.”

A cold chill runs down my back and settles in my stomach. Jack must feel it, too, because he’s suddenly holding me tighter. I tuck my face into the angle of his neck and jaw. If I close my eyes and tune out the party around us, I can pretend we’re somewhere far away from here. Just the two of us.

“I think your friend wants to talk to you,” Jack says.

I glance at the bar where Kenzie stands waving and beckoning.

Sighing with frustration, I straighten my posture. “I should go see what she needs.”

“Hold on a sec, Holly.” Jack reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulls out a scuffed-up pen and a small notepad. He clicks the point down and writes something on a piece of paper, which he then tears out. “If you ever find yourself backed into a corner, I have friends in the Knoxville Police Department who can help.”

“Friends?” I can’t say Kenzie and I have ever put much faith in cops. In fact, we’ve spent the last three years going out of our way to avoid them.

“People I trust.” He folds the piece of paper into a small square, which he then tucks into my cleavage.

Before my body even registers that he’s touching my breast, his fingers are already gone.

“If you’re ever in trouble,” he says, “ask for Caleb Larkin. Say it for me, will ya?”

“Caleb Larkin,” I echo.

“Good girl.”

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