“As for you being here,” I said, parroting his words back to him. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of both of my girls myself.” My spine snapped straight. Regret mounted. Mentioning both of my girls was information I hadn’t intended to give.
Now he knows there’s two.
I’m such an idiota.
He raked his tongue across his bottom lip, making my belly flip in a way it shouldn’t have, especially given the situation.
But there was something about him, something I didn’t quite understand that both terrified and intrigued me.
Part of me wanted to pull him closer and learn all about the demons that the darkness inhabiting my empty chest had recognized when my body careened into his weeks before.
But the other part—the one I had no interest in listening to—wanted him to go away, to leave me alone forever because whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was dangerous.
To my body.
To my heart.
To my soul.
“Yeah”—he nodded—“I’m sure you can. But she needs more help than you can give her right now.”
I opened my mouth to sling a scathing retort his way, but I never got the chance.
“You see that nasty cut on her lip?” he asked, continuing. “That needs to be cleaned, else it’ll get infected. As for the bruises forming around her neck and across her cheek, I’d like to make sure those aren’t too severe and in need of additional first aid.”
Everything about him appeared calm, but I’d recognized the shift in his deep baritone the moment he began speaking about Jade’s injuries. He may have been good at hiding his emotions, but I could tell that he was pissed.
And I mean pissed.
“Carmen,” Jade cried softly, her panic-laced voice barely audible. “Don’t let him touch me.”
Eyes locked on James, I shook my head. “I won’t.” Clearing my throat, I lowered my arm, allowing my knife to hang by my side. “How can you help us if I won’t allow you to get close?”
Dropping his bag to the floor, he knelt and rummaged through its various contents. “I’m going to give you one supply at a time and instruct you on how to use it,” he replied, understanding the gravity of the situation.
She’s been abused, she won’t allow touch.
“Then, you’re going to clean her up while I observe her reactions and injuries from over here.” He looked up, meeting my gaze. “Y’all both good with that?”
I glanced down at Jade.
Nodding, she answered my unspoken question. Still, I hesitated.
“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he commanded, once more calling me by a name he had no business using. “I know you have zero reason to trust me, but I swear on my life that I don’t mean any harm.”
To my dismay, my chin trembled. “I don’t trust anyone,” I replied. “And there’s plenty of reason for that.”
“I just bet there is.”
“Carmen.” Jade’s soft hand touched mine, calming the nerves that rioted beneath my sweat-covered flesh. “I’m scared.”
I didn’t need her to tell me that.
The connection we shared made it impossible for me not to know.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, I lifted my chin in the air, fighting to hide the anxiety electrifying my nerves. “Why should I believe that you don’t want to hurt us?”
“Because Faye trusts me.”
My guard dropped the slightest bit.
In the six years I’d spent trapped under El Diablo’s thumb, I’d known Faye the entire time. Before the girls came into my life, she’d comforted me, offering me something that had been missing ever since Mamá was shot like a rabid dog back in Colombia.
I loved Faye.
But more importantly, I trusted her.
Completely.
Not giving myself time to think, I flicked my hair over my shoulder and moved forward, closing the space between James and me. When less than a foot separated us, I stopped.
“Fair warning, Mr. Cole,” I said, trying to appear brave when I felt anything but. “If you try to hurt me, I will fight you every step of the way. And if you are so stupid as to try and harm Little One, I will gut you like the swine you would then be.”
“Good girl,” he replied, taking me by surprise. “If anybody ever tries to hurt you or your girls, then you tear them apart. Piece by piece, if need be.”
Slowly lifting his hand, he tucked a stray lock of stringy hair behind my ear. I barely held back a flinch. “And if you can’t do it, then find me, and I’ll handle it for you.”
His words were rough, his tone threatening, yet my heart soared. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
“Si?” My hands, including the one holding my knife, went to my hips. “And what is it that you think you know?”
Ripping open a medical bandage of some sort with his teeth, he shook his head. “One day, I’ll tell you,” he whispered, tone gentle as could be. “But that day is not today.” Before I could reply, he handed me the bandage, along with a small packet of disinfectant wipes. “Ready?”
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
It was an answer I never expected to give.
But one that, in the end, I was glad I did.
Eight
James
Anger.
The simple, five-letter word wasn’t strong enough to describe the gnawing ache that raged inside my chest, nearly rendering my pounding heart to ash as I cleaned the track mark scars lining the inside of Carmen’s delicate arms.
Arms which she was only letting me care for because I’d convinced her that if her wounds weren’t cleaned, they could become infected and thus make her sick, something which might stop her from caring for the girls.
After that slight nudge, she’d clutched her switchblade tight and extended one arm, followed by the other, no hesitation. But even though she allowed it, I was fully aware that the last thing she wanted was for me to touch her.
For that reason alone, I felt shittier than usual for gently pushing her into allowing me
