“Dylan brought me,” I announce.
Pinkie looks down at the table, she doesn’t want this woman to know that Dylan brought me. It doesn’t seem like she wants this woman to know much about why I’m here or what’s going on.
“Dylan?”
“What did you call him, Pinkie? Jaguar?”
I know the moment that I’ve said the wrong thing.
Della scoots her seat back. Her eyes are wide and she looks almost horrified. I lick my lips and try to think of something to say, but I can tell she doesn’t want to hear anything. Her mind is going a mile a minute and she’s probably got enough happening inside of her own head.
I’m not sure what she’s thinking or why, but I can’t look away from her. She’s watching me, her gaze flicking around and searching my face. I don’t know what she’s looking for and I’m not sure that she finds it, even when she speaks.
“Jag brought you. He brought you here and you know his name?”
Licking my lips, I look down to her little dark-haired boy, then lift my gaze to meet hers. “We aren’t anything. I don’t really even know him. He is just doing me a favor. He saved me.”
I’m afraid that she’s his Old Lady, that this is his baby. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on, but it’s clear she’s not really excited about my presence, and the fact that I know his name. I don’t know what else to say, so I just make it clear that he’s not mine and I’m not his.
“He saved you?” she whispers.
Nodding, my eyes don’t leave hers. I can see the disbelief in her gaze. I want to tell her everything, I want to make sure that she knows just how wonderful he was. I want to assure her that I’m not his, that nothing happened, that I’ve never even seen him with another woman, not even a clubwhore, but I don’t get the chance.
“He saved you?” she asks again, this time her voice a little louder.
I open my mouth to respond to her, but I snap my lips closed when she stands and starts to pace. “He saved you. He tried to kill my husband,” she sneers. “Tried to kill him and he saved you?”
I don’t know why I focus on the fact that she has a husband, and he isn’t Dylan. No, that’s a lie. I know exactly why I focus on that, but it doesn’t matter. I push that thought into the back of my mind and clear my throat.
“All I know about him is what I’ve seen and I’ve only seen a good man who saved me,” I exhale.
She shakes her head, then licks her lips. She’s trembling and I hate it. I want to comfort her. She’s a stranger, but I can tell that this affects her in ways that I will probably never understand. I get that though, there are things that affect me that nobody can understand—not ever.
Chapter Three
PAMELA
Della opens her mouth, then her head jerks and she looks behind me. I don’t turn around, I have no doubt that there are men coming out of that room, the same room that they dragged Dylan from not long ago. I know what that room is too, their space for church, a space that I will never see and I’m perfectly content with that.
“Della, what the fuck, nena?” a man curses as he walks over to her.
I watch as he takes the baby from her arms and pats his back a few times, his attention solely on her. He has the baby, he’s not letting him go, but he is focused on Della. She looks from him to me, then back to him again.
“He brought her here. He saved her?”
The man shifts his gaze to me, then flicks it back to meet hers. “He did,” he confirms.
“What did you decide?” she asks.
“I haven’t.”
I have no clue what they’re talking about, but I know that it is going to be life changing. I can feel it deep in my bones. All of this has been a complete life change, but this is different—this is bigger.
So much bigger.
“We’ll talk later, yeah?”
“No,” she breathes. “This girl knows his name.”
I don’t know what that means, if it’s supposed to mean anything, but the man turns to me again and his gaze travels down the entire length of my body before he shifts it back to Della. There is a moment of silence before he speaks.
“Nena,” he says, his tone warning, but she either doesn’t realize it, or doesn’t care.
“I need all of the information before you decide.”
“You need all of the information?” he asks, raising a brow.
She shrugs a shoulder. “He did it to both of us,” she says, her voice soft and almost injured sounding.
“What did he do?” I hesitantly ask, interrupting their conversation.
They both turn their heads, whipping them to the side and stare at me for a moment. “He tried to kill me,” the man announces.
I gasp, lifting my hand to my mouth to cover my parted lips. I know that Della had already said that, but hearing it from him, having it truly confirmed hits me differently. My eyes widen as I watch them, my gaze shifting between them, wondering if I can believe them. Then, I look over to Pinkie. I silently ask her, and she dips her chin in an affirmative nod.
“How?” I breathe.
“Doesn’t matter,” Della says.
The man shakes his head. “If she’s tied to him, she needs to know.”
“I’m not—”
He snorts, interrupting me. “You are, Jailbait, and that’s all good, but you need to know who he is.”
I don’t say anything else. Instead, I press my lips together, dropping my hand as I watch him and wait. He doesn’t look away from me, his gaze is focused on me and nowhere else. He’s beautiful, in a very rough
