Fear, blinding and instant, struck me.
And it struck hard.
My lips quivered as I pressed them into a straight line. Fisting the sheet beneath me once more, I dug my nails into the threadbare fabric, eyes going to the now closed door.
I needed to leave.
As soon as possible.
If El Diablo found out what James had done for me, he would kill Faye and me both. No doubt about it. But if he found I was talking to someone from the shelter, who would likely offer to help me, he would do a lot worse than murder me in cold blood.
He’d hurt mi chicas.
And by hurt them, I mean he’d beat and rape them both before sending them to his two vilest minions—Officer Jacobs and District Attorney Ellington—as punishment.
That couldn’t happen.
Jacobs, that fucking monster, never failed to hurt Jade. Badly. As for Ellington? The sick and twisted psycho reveled in torturing Ashley. Neither outcomes were things I was willing to risk.
Not ever.
Reading the fear flashing across my face, James closed the space between us and sat down on the mattress’s edge.
Pulling my left hand from the sheet, he took it in his and caressed my bony knuckles with his calloused thumb.
“Maddie is my future daughter-in-law, sweetheart,” he whispered so only I could hear. “And she wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less a living person. Trust me.”
Trust.
I couldn’t give him that.
Eyes wild, I yanked my hand from his and shook my head. “I won’t risk them,” I replied, refusing to speak the girls’ names—real or otherwise—aloud. “You don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out.”
Calling upon every ounce of strength I could conjure, I scooted toward the edge of the bed, ignoring the pain that streaked through my battered frame with each small movement.
I didn’t make it far.
Curling his large hand around my small bicep, James quickly halted my effort to escape before my bare feet ever touched the filthy floor. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled. “As I told you before, you’re not going anywhere.”
My anger, red-hot and plentiful, roared to life, replacing the nearly blinding fear that gripped me. Attitude back in full force, I snatched my arm free of his gorilla-like hold. “You can’t stop me.”
His beautiful, yet infuriating smile returned. “We’ve already had this conversation, sweetheart.” My eyes narrowed. I both loved and hated it when he called me that. “But in case you didn’t hear me the first half dozen times I said it, let me repeat myself”—he paused—“watch me.”
“And as I told you before, pendejo,” I fired back, refusing to be brought to heel, “you are neither my pimp nor my Papá; therefore, you get no say when it comes to me.”
He opened his trap to say something, of which I was sure would only piss me off further but quickly clamped it shut when his son, whose name I still didn’t know, laughed boisterously.
“Goddamn, Pop,” he said, eyes crinkled from the beaming smile he wore. “I think you’ve met your match.”
Pop? The name didn’t fit James.
At all.
I didn’t know how old he was, but he didn’t look a day over forty. It made no sense considering he had a full-grown son and had spent more than a decade as an alcoholic. I’d been around enough addicts to know that he should’ve looked older, not to mention rougher.
But he didn’t.
“How old are you?” The unexpected question slipped out before I could stop it, cutting through the heated tension that filled the room.
Knowing the exact thoughts racing through my head, the arrogant bastardo smirked. “Forty-three.”
My chin jutted forward. “Are you sure?”
Maddie giggled. “It’s their genes.” I moved my eyes from the man seated next to me, his formidable presence overshadowing mine, and focused on her.
Shrugging, she lifted her dainty hands in the air, palms out. “They’re blessed, yet here I am, already using anti-wrinkle serum and pore minimizer at twenty-four. It’s just not fair.”
My lips curved in a grin that couldn’t be helped. Her mere presence eased the maelstrom of trepidation surging inside me. I may not have known her from a stranger off the street, but my gut said that she was good.
And it was because of said gut feeling that I swallowed down the residual fear clogging my dry throat and decided to take a chance before I had time to change my mind. “You truly work at the shelter?”
Maddie nodded. “I do.”
“Can we talk then?”
Again, she nodded. “Absolutely.”
James’s warm hand found my knee. “I’ll take Hendrix and step outside.” Hendrix. That was his son’s name. It was fitting, and I loved it. “Give you girls some privacy.”
He started to stand, but I quickly fisted the side of his shirt, clutching it tightly. “No.” The single word came out rushed and panicked. Feeling my cheeks heat with something akin to embarrassment, I huffed out a mortified breath. “I mean…”
“You want me to stay?”
I hesitated. Then, “Si, I do.”
The lone, yet simple word was the truth. Even if parts of me didn’t understand it, I did want him to stay.
For longer than my mind dared admit.
Fifteen
Carmen
My eyes remained glued to James.
Even as Maddie sat next to me on the bed, explaining how the shelter worked, along with the services they offered, I couldn’t look away from him, much less pay attention to a word she was speaking.
Like an estúpido moth drawn to a dancing flame, I was enthralled by him despite the danger that such an attraction presented.
It was both maddening and exhilarating.
“I love seeing them like that.”
With the taste of James’s sweet kiss still lingering on my tingling lips, Maddie’s whispered words and change in tone jerked me free of the fog surrounding me.
“Seeing who like what?” I asked, my eyes moving to her pretty green ones.
Fingers stilling, she nodded toward the corner of the room where James stood, his back pressed against the filthy drywall as he listened to whatever Hendrix was saying, his hands moving with each word he spoke.
The smiles they both wore were genuine.
And beautiful.
“It
