Oh God. “No. No, Tils. That won’t happen. I have custody of you, remember. He can’t take you away from me, not without the courts giving him that right back, and that won’t happen.”
She leaned into me, burying her face against my shoulder. “Promise?” she said, voice muffled.
“I promise.” I’d do anything before I let that happen.
I woke two hours later, still on the couch, alone since I’d put Tilly to bed earlier. I thought I’d be awake all night. Seemed my shitty day had wiped me out after all.
I lay there for a moment, listening to the muted chatter coming from the TV, the flickers of light on the ceiling.
Tilly had been so scared tonight. I’d had to sit with her until she fell asleep. Trent wasn’t getting anywhere near her. I wouldn’t let him.
Trent had gone to her school today, had been hanging around outside. Why? I couldn’t believe it was because he wanted to see his daughter, that he’d missed her. Had he followed me there? He’d obviously wanted me to see him.
An icy chill slid through me, like a giant slushy tidal wave submerging me, slow and so cold, I felt frozen to the bone. I had no damned idea what he’d do next. I was losing control of the situation, if I ever was in control in the first place. I needed a lot more money. I needed more shifts. The tips I got today were great, but adding a few night shifts until I had Trent’s money, would get me there a whole lot faster. It would get him to back off for a bit, so I could think.
I also needed to call the school first thing, to make sure they understood that Trent wasn’t allowed anywhere near Tilly. I’d already given them instructions to that effect when I enrolled her, but wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.
Grabbing my phone, I called Raul, and he agreed to give me three night shifts, starting tomorrow. Steph said the girls who worked nights made great money and if I made myself available for more lap dances…maybe even some private dances, I could make the money I needed faster.
My phone beeped.
Jude: You awake?
I let out the breath I was holding. I couldn’t deal with Trent again today. Jude asked if he could message me last time we texted, but then the next night came and he didn’t. I assumed he’d changed his mind, but I’d been wrong apparently.
Yep, just hanging out on the couch.
I forced myself to stare at the TV, a feeble attempt to convince myself I wasn’t lying here, waiting for his reply.
He replied almost instantly. Was going to text yesterday, but things got complicated.
I read that as, I was busy chasing bad guys. The rescue footage I’d seen of him on TV flashed through my mind. Yes, complicated could mean anything where Jude was concerned.
I typed out my response. Did you get your man?
Not yet, should only be another day or two, we’re closing in on him. How’s work?
I thought about Jethro coming in, the lap dances I’d done earlier, the creep with his hands on me, the money I’d made, and for some weird reason, I felt kind of…guilty. I couldn’t help but wonder what Jude would think of me doing that, if he’d hate it. Him and I didn’t owe each other anything. A couple of kisses does not a relationship make. We weren’t really even friends. I couldn’t explain where the feeling came from, I just knew he wouldn’t like it.
Work’s fine. I’m doing a few evening shifts this week, the extra money will be good.
His reply took longer to come, and I wondered if there was some kind of action happening and that was the end of our conversation, but then my phone vibrated with another message.
Don’t do it on my account, I told you not to worry about rent until you’re back on your feet.
Always the nice guy. Though, I couldn’t help but feel like the tone of this text was different. Sharper, maybe. Did he not like the idea of me working nights?
I’m doing it for Tilly. I need the money.
His reply was almost instant. The crowd can be a little rough evenings, make sure one of Raul’s boys has eyes on you at all times.
I blinked down at his message, warmth unfurling in the center of my chest. He was concerned, maybe even worried about me. When was the last time someone was worried about me? I couldn’t remember. My mom had been too caught up in her own misery, working all the time, and Rebecca had been so deep into drugs, all she’d worried about was her next fix. Then there was my ex-boyfriend, who ran off as soon as things got complicated. He’d only ever cared about himself.
Jude wasn’t family. He didn’t owe me anything, he had no obligation to me and Tilly. He was my landlord, and he’d shown more kindness to us than anyone in my family ever had.
I will. I text back.
I got up and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was ready for bed and climbing between the covers when his next text came.
Glad to hear it. You nearly ready to hit the sack?
On a whim, I opened the camera and took a picture of myself, hair in a messy bun, and tongue poking out, like a complete goof—I was also braless under my tank, and I might have let that show as well—then sent it to him. I picked up my book and tried to read. I read the same paragraph four times, waiting for his reply.
Fuck, Willa, was all it said when it came.
I had no idea what that meant. Okay, maybe I did, but I found myself wanting him to spell it out. Maybe that was playing with fire, again sending mixed signals, and God, I knew it was selfish, but Jude made me feel good; about myself, about my ability to raise my niece. He made me feel like I wasn’t failing miserably at every damn aspect of my life.
Fuck, what? I sent back. I wasn’t fooling anyone with that reply, and his, when it came, made that perfectly clear.
I’m on a stakeout here, babe, and now the only thing I want to look at is that fucking picture.
I grinned. I’m in my pjs, with messy hair, and my tongue poking out. Besides comic relief, I’m not sure why you’d be distracted.
Jude: Comic, is not the kind of relief I’m craving when I look at you.
Willa: No?
Jude: Coy doesn’t suit you, honey. You know exactly what it’s doing to me.
My heart started racing, my skin heating, feeling too tight. I typed my reply. Maybe.
Jude: No maybe. It’s not a matter of if, for us, but when, and you know it.
I was trying to think of a way to answer that, when those three little dots popped up again, telling me he was typing.
Jude: Gotta go, my guy’s on the move. Talk tomorrow.
I stared down at our messages. What the hell did I think I was doing? I put my phone down by the bed, my heart still racing fast, my skin clammy, hot pulsing need between my thighs.
It was a bad idea.
But who was I kidding. I’d wanted him since the day I met him, and he showed me around this house. I didn’t have time for this, for a man like Jude. Tilly needed my entire focus. I had Trent to worry about.
But deep down, I knew Jude was right.
There was no if, only when.
I woke with a start the next morning, my phone buzzing relentlessly on my bedside table. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins as I grabbed it and checked the screen.
Trent.
I wanted to ignore it, pretend he never called, that he didn’t exist, but that wasn’t an option. Ignoring him would only make him angrier.
I put it to my ear. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” he said in a hushed voice that sent a shiver down my spine.
I gripped the phone tighter. “I don’t know what you expect me to do, I can’t pull money out of thin air. I’m doing all the shifts I can, giving you everything. Christ, Trent, I need to keep a roof over Tilly’s head. Don’t you care the money you’re taking from me hurts her, makes life harder for her?” I don’t know why I was trying to appeal to the man’s heart; I knew for a fact he didn’t have one, and he proved it as soon as he opened his mouth next.
“You chose to take her,” he said, voice flat. “If you
keep fucking me around like this, giving me damn peanuts, I will make your life a lot harder. I have rights, you know I do. I can claim visitation. I’m sure Child Welfare would love to know you’re a whore now.”
“I dance, that’s it…”
“Bullshit, I know what the whores in places like Stilettos are like. I know what goes on in the private rooms.”
“You’re wrong…”
“Get me more money, I don’t care how you do it. I want two grand. You have a week, or things get messy for you.”
I opened my mouth to say something, a useless attempt to get through to him.
But he hung up.
12
Willa
The two days Tilly was suspended from school were a juggle. Looking out for Trent, trying to be there for her, while also doing my usual shifts, plus my first night at Stilettos.
With everything going on, I was so thankful for Fay. I didn’t know what I’d do without her. I hated that I wasn’t there for Tilly like I should, but the sacrifice would be worth it, right? I’d get Trent’s money, and he’d finally leave us alone.
Unless, of course, he decided to stick around and continue to blackmail me.
I didn’t want to think about that. I’d cross that bridge when, and if, I was forced to cross it. One crisis at a time was all I could manage.
I’d hold Trent off for the rest of the week. I should have a few grand by then, doing double shifts and private dances.
I shuddered and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. I’d done my first night shift. It’d been weird, awkward, at first. But there were cameras in all the private rooms, and Raul had someone monitoring them at all times; plus, he’d put a guy in the hall just outside the rooms, since all the disappearances. He assured me someone would be there in seconds if I raised the alarm.
Thankfully, the two dances I did, neither of the guys crossed the line. One just preferred his lap dance without an audience, and the other guy didn’t even want me to touch him, he just wanted to watch me dance. His hand may have drifted south of his belt buckle a few times, but I guess that was to be expected. I just ignored it and danced.
There’d also been a development on the first missing dancer, Fiona. Her body had been found. She’d been cut, beaten, tortured. Raul was struggling with it; we all were.
Both nights during my shift, I’d gotten a text from Jude, asking me to let him know that I got home safe. He’d been keeping tabs on the case through his contacts on the force, which meant he knew about Fiona being found. He was worried about me, so I made sure to text him when I got home. He’d also checked in during the day, asking how it was going, and about Tilly, how she was coping with the bullying and the suspension.
I liked that he was worried about me. I liked it more than I should. Checking my phone between dances, seeing that he’d answered, sending him another reply.
And maybe another picture or two…
Tilly walked into the living room where I was sitting and plonked down on the couch beside me, leaning into my side, her head burrowing against my arm.
“What is it, Tils?”
“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.”
I curled my arm around her slim shoulders and pulled her in closer. “I wish I could promise you it would all be okay.” I slid my fingers under her quivering little chin. “If anything happens, you go straight to your teacher. I’ll drop you off tomorrow and have another talk to her…”
Tilly was shaking her head. “No, please, don’t come in. Everyone will think I’m a baby if you do.”
She was getting worked up, her breaths getting shuddery.
“Okay, I won’t take you in, I’ll make an appointment for after school, or…”
Tears began to stream down her cheeks and she burrowed in against me. What the hell was I going to do? I just wanted to make this better for her, and I didn’t know how.
I gave her a squeeze. “Let me go get you a tissue and we’ll work out the best way to handle this together, okay?”
She nodded, lower lip quivering.
I rushed out, grabbed the box of tissues from the bathroom, and detoured to the kitchen for the pack of chocolate cookies I had stashed, and two tall glasses of milk. No, eating our feelings wasn’t a great idea, but right then, I didn’t really care, and as far as I was concerned, milk and cookies was a known cure-all. Or at least it helped, if only for as long as the cookies lasted.
I walked into the living room and pulled up short, almost dropping the glasses. Tilly was on my phone.
I quickly put everything down on the coffee table, and barely resisted snatching it from her hand. “Who are you talking to, Tils?” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, terrified it was Trent.
“Jude. He called,” she said, and smiled wide. “He’s going to pick me up from school tomorrow on his bike!”
What? I held my hand out. “Can I have the phone, Tilly.”
“I have to go now,” she said down the line. “See you tomorrow, Jude. You’re the best. Blake’s gonna shit bricks when he sees you on your Harley.” Then she giggled at whatever Jude said while she wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, cheeks rosy now, eyes bright.
Finally, she handed over the phone, grabbed two cookies, a glass of milk, and walked out. “I’ll be in my room,” she called. “I need to pick something badass to wear tomorrow.”
I stared after my niece, stunned at the transformation, and finally remembered to call after her, “Watch your language,” before I lifted the phone to my ear. “You can’t be serious?” I said to Jude.
“I was, is that a problem?” he rumbled, in that deep, gritty voice.
I realized I’d missed that voice. I’d heard it in my head when I’d read his texts, but nothing compared to the real thing. Jude Wayland had a great voice.
I mentally shook myself. “Well, for one, you should have asked if it was okay with me.”
He was quiet a beat, then, “Hey, Willa, can I pick up Tilly on my bike tomorrow?”
I growled, and he chuckled. My skin got tingly. “How the hell can I say no now?”
“I guess you can’t.” I heard someone talking in the background, a male voice. “I gotta go, but don’t worry, okay? I’ve got a helmet she can wear,” he said, his voice getting rougher. “She’ll be safe. I’d never take any stupid risks. You can trust me with her.”
I held the phone tighter, warmth spreading, curling in my belly. “Can you text me when you leave school?”
“Whatever you need, babe, you got it.”
Another shiver. I wanted to be mad at him—for being heavy handed, for assuming I’d agree, for being so damn overbearing—but I couldn’t, not after seeing the smile on Tils’ face. Not after he’d made the fears and the sadness go away. My baby girl would sleep easier tonight, and that was because of Jude.
How could I be mad at him for that?
“Thanks,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.
“No problem.”
There was a charged silence. Then I remembered he’d called me. “So, you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yeah.”
When he said no more, I said, “You got your guy?”
“Yep.”
“So…”
“So what?”
“So why did you call?”
“Wanted to hear your voice.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Did you now?”
“I was also hoping you might carve out some time for me when I got back, but Tilly told me you’re working tonight?”
My heart pumped hard against my breastbone. “Yeah.”
That voice in the background started talking again and the phone crackled; Jude’s voice was muffled now, and I knew he’d covered the phone so he could reply.
“Sorry, you still there?” he said, after a few seconds.
“I’m here.”
“Looks like something’s come up, so maybe I’ll catch you tomorrow night?” he said.
“I’m working to
morrow as well,” I said, and the regret I heard in my own voice was real. I wanted to see him. After messaging him this week, after everything he’d done for us, I wanted to repay him. But I wanted it for me was well. I wanted to give him that time. There was something between us; a spark, chemistry. And I was sick of fighting it. What would one night hurt? One night to have something good for myself.
“What about earlier?” he asked.
“I’m doing a double tomorrow.”
He cursed. “Damn, Willa, don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
My back straightened at that, at those words. Evan used to say shit like that to me all the time. Micro threats to get his way. “Is that right?”
A pause. “You’re pissed all of a sudden, why?”
Jude was a good guy, but he was a guy, and in my experience, that meant if they didn’t get what they wanted, they turned into assholes. “Are you threatening to back off if I don’t make myself available to you? ’Cause if that’s the case, I have to tell you, it’s an asshole move. Maybe if I was some pining, desperate idiot, I’d be worried that you’d disappear, but I can take it or leave it, remember that.”
“Take or leave what?” he said, his voice so full of gravel, goosebumps lifted all over me.
“You,” I said, with more venom than I’d intended.
He cursed again. “Christ, Willa, that wasn’t what I was doing. I want you, I’ve made no secret about that. I’m not threatening a damn thing. I was just telling you that waiting is fucking hard. I liked talking to you this week. I wanted to see you. That’s it. No ulterior motive. No secret agenda.” A pause. “You know what? Fuck it. Whatever. I don’t need this shit, I need to go.”
I swallowed the bolder that had formed in my throat.
There was no missing the sincerity in his voice…or the anger. I winced.
I’d gotten it wrong again.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’d reacted like I always did; assumed the worst, lashed out, went on the attack. His words stung, his disappointment and frustration with me coming through loud and clear. And yeah, hitting a little too close to the bone.
“Jude…’
“I’ll text you when I pick up Tilly tomorrow.” There was a pause. “And for fuck’s sake, keep yourself safe. I know you’re out of this psycho’s target zone, but don’t, not for any reason, leave the club without security.”
Ruthless Protector Page 13