“Whoa, whoa. Easy. Are you okay?”
She swallowed three times, frantically. Her stomach was threatening to empty itself, and she pressed her eyes closed.
“Okay. Curly, get another cloth and run it under some cold water. Okay?”
“All right.”
She had to smile. That was her Annie, so helpful.
“Danielle?”
The voice was to her right. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the side, breathing deep. That man was there...right, her neighbor. Knuckles.
“Wanna tell me what happened?”
She swallowed again as the tap ran behind them. “What?”
His hand left her back, then maneuvered her chin around to face him better. “Your face, Momma. Your lip is split. Your eyes are a bit wonky. I think you have a concussion.”
At the word concussion, it all came back, her horrible afternoon. One of the scariest moments of her life, probably the number three spot. Her hand went to her bottom lip, making herself wince. Yeah, swollen and split. Damn, that really stung.
“Danielle? Who did this?”
If asked, she wouldn’t be able to tell what made her look back into his eyes at that. They were an interesting color. Here in her bathroom they looked almost golden-brown, and while they were quite lovely they were also flashing with something that looked a lot like anger. Fire, even. It caught her by surprise.
“Just...no one.”
He inhaled loudly through his nose, but he just nodded.
“Really. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“Other than passing out from a concussion. Yeah.”
That made her sit up straighter. “I’ll be fine. Why are you even here?”
“Because your daughter couldn’t wake you up and got scared.” Oh, there was some snark in that voice. As much as it made her want to slap him, she also found her nerve.
“Thank you for that. But we’ll be okay now. I just...I need to eat.”
“Here you go!”
Knuckles took the square of white terry cloth from her daughter and pressed it to her forehead like an invalid. As much as he was pissing her off, that felt really damn good. Eyes fluttering closed, Danielle concentrated on breathing deep.
The kind way he was holding the cloth to her forehead popped the bubble of anger. His hand was on the back of her neck, his fingers warm and dry. If he were to stroke at her she’d likely start purring, but when she opened her eyes, the expression on his face spoke of annoyance more than compassion.
“You don’t have to stay,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine now. Thank you.”
His grey-gold eyes flicked to hers at that. The smirked showed his teeth, but it didn’t look mean. She believed that was just his small smile. “I’ve ordered pizza. I’ll bring it over.”
At that, her pulse sped up. Panic, definitely panic. “What? Why? No, that’s not necessary.”
His hand left her neck and the cloth vanished as he stood in a smooth, quick motion. “You like pizza, Curly?”
“Yes!” The answer was a squeal.
“No, really,” she sputtered, hand on the edge of the tub as she pushed herself up. “I’ve taken out pork chops. It’s fine.”
“Have ‘em tomorrow. The pizza will be here soon and it’s ready.”
“Pizza!” Annie shrieked, running out of the bathroom with both arms in the air.
A person might think Danielle starved the kid.
Before leaving, Knuckles paused in the door, a bemused grin on his face, body shaking with quiet laughter. “She’s a cool kid,” he told Danielle, over his shoulder.
Danielle nearly swayed on her feet, and not from her head injury. The way that smile lit up his face, the image of his large hand splayed on the wall next to the door. Looking comfortable, like he fit here.
“I know,” she finally said, sounding stupid. Then he left her, striding down the hall to follow Annie.
Danielle swallowed hard when she was alone. No, no. This was ridiculous. She clearly needed male companionship, it had been a long time. A very long time. But not him. He had heartache written all over him, and not just because of the tattoos and the heavy boots and the motorcycle and that vest he wore.
Bad idea. Such a terrible, horrible, moronic idea.
She moved to the sink, planting her hands on both sides of the basin, then looked up at her reflection, and fell about two more shades deeper into pale. She looked like shit. Her skin was papery, ashen. The bags under her eyes were part of her usual gig but the split lip and bruised, swollen cheekbone was a new statement. Also, her dark hair smooshed up on one side, likely from how she’d fallen and been rolled around on the floor.
Oh yes, certainly time to be making moon eyes at the neighbor.
Splashing warm water on her face felt good but didn’t improve matters, appearance-wise. At least she could straighten her hair out easily enough. Ponytail time, definitely.
Annie bounced on her feet at the screen door, and as Danielle headed for the kitchen her daughter sang out “The pizza’s here!”
She had to smile as the door opened, but she continued on her way. From the cupboard, she pulled down three plates, ripped three squares of paper towel off the roll hanging under the cupboard, and rejoined her daughter and Knuckles in the living room.
“I hope you like pepperoni, Curly.”
“I love pepperoni!”
“And cheese, right?”
“Of course!”
“What about peppers and pineapple?”
Annie screwed up her face as Danielle set the plates and napkins down. “No way. Less is more.”
Knuckles burst out laughing and set the box down on the coffee table, on top of the newspaper. He flipped the box open, mimicking a trumpet’s fanfare. “I absolutely agree. Just pepperoni and cheese.”
It smelled fantastic. Danielle’s stomach actually grumbled.
“Mom, can I put on a movie?”
That was the tradition for pizza nights: the family sitting on the sofa, movie on, eating on the couch. It only happened on pizza nights. Knuckles sunk to the middle of the sofa, looking up at her as though waiting as well.
“Of course, honey. But maybe let our guest pick the movie?” She needed to remind herself that Knuckles was a guest. That needed to be repeated, because him sitting on the sofa with Annie leaning on the edge looking up at her looked...right. And comfortable.
“Curly, you pick,” he said easily, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
“I like the Harry Potter movies.”
Knuckles nodded, that half-smirk lifting one side of his mouth. “Then put one on.”
“Okay!” Annie bounced to the TV, dropped to her knees, and yanked open the cabinet under the flat screen to pull out the DVD she wanted.
Danielle sat on the armchair, her stomach still doing ridiculous things just from proximity to the man on her sofa who was serving up slices on the plates she’d brought out. He handed her one, napkin underneath, licking the sauce from his other thumb. She couldn’t help it; she watched his mouth and tongue as he did it.
Christ, was she high?
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking the plate, then she set it down again. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Coca-Cola?” was Annie’s hopeful request.
“Sure,” Danielle relented. Another pizza night special concession. Then she turned to Knuckles. “I have beer or—”
“Coca-Cola is perfect,” he declared, taking a bite of his pizza, jaw working hard as he chewed, still half-smiling, but now it was at her.
“Okay,” she breathed, hands fidgeting at her sides as she went to get the sodas. Get a grip, she scolded herself, grabbing the ice trays out of the freezer first and slamming it with a bit too much conviction. You’re too old for this stupidity.
She poured out three glasses as the Warner Brothers theme music pumped out of the speakers in the other room. She put the plastic bottle back in the fridge, shut the door and turned to see Knuckles grabbing two of the
tumblers. It startled her and she jumped, again.
He frowned, noticing her skittishness. “Is everything okay?”
With a slow exhale, she nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry.”
He shook his head. “I have no idea why you’re apologizing. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine.”
Again, he did that soul-searching stare thing, then turned and left the room. She picked up the remaining glass and followed, slinking back to her chair and curling up with her one leg underneath her ass. Annie was sitting on the very edge of the sofa, eyes rapt on the screen, chewing on a slice that she was holding in her hand.
“Annie, over your plate, please,” she asked, and without looking away from the TV Annie parked her little butt further back on the sofa and pulled the plate onto her lap.
Setting his plate down, Knuckles pulled the coffee table closer to the sofa so Annie could reach her soda and that’s when Danielle decided she needed to stay very, very far away from him. And how impossible was that going to be, what with him being Annie’s new best friend and all.
-oOo-
“Hey, you all right?”
Danielle blinked herself awake, sitting up straight from how she’d slumped on one hand, elbow resting on the arm of the chair. The room was dim, but the TV was still going and they’d moved onto Chamber of Secrets while she’d dozed off.
“Sorry,” she sputtered, unfolding her leg from under herself. Ouch, that fucking hurt.
Knuckles was crouched in front of the chair, hands on both arms. He was chewing his lip, eyes flitting over her face again, getting a read on her.
“I dozed off, honestly, I’m okay.”
After a beat, he nodded, then held up a hand clutching a cell phone. “I just got a call. I have to go into work. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Her head hurt, but the nausea was gone. “I’m great,” she assured him, unable to move. He had her penned in the chair. She fidgeted again, the closeness of him making her jittery.
He cocked his head. “You look...off.”
She let out an embarrassed laugh. “Wow. Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” she assured him, loud enough that Annie looked away from the TV. “Everything is fine,” she assured her daughter specifically. “I just woke up.”
Knuckles opened his mouth to reply but then the front door opened, and Grace strode in, pushing her dark hair out of her face. “Hey, am I missing pizza?” Then she froze, eyes on Knuckles, eyes flicking from him to Danielle in confusion.
“We’re watching Harry Potter!” Annie filled in her older sister. “And there’s still some pizza left.”
“I see that.” Grace closed the door, then moved further into the room. “Holy shit, Mom! Your face! What happened?”
“Language, Grace,” Danielle muttered, putting a hand on Knuckles’ arm to move him out of the way. He got up and stepped to the side so she could stand. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“You could tell me and I’ll just take care of it,” Knuckles cut in, hands on his hips.
Still, Grace’s confusion had her looking from Knuckles to her mother. Danielle opened her mouth, closed it. She had no idea how to take that statement. Would he beat someone up? Just for her? He didn’t even know her.
“Or just tell them at work on Monday,” Grace muttered, dropping her messenger bag to the ground beside the door. She shook her hair out of her face as she did it, cast a wary eye at Knuckles then asked “Who the hell is he?”
“That’s Knuckles! He’s our neighbor.” Annie hit pause on the DVD. Apparently, she didn’t want to miss any of the movie she’d all but memorized.
“Oh, right.” Grace pushed past them and sat on the couch, reaching for a cold piece of pizza. Apparently only one of the Prince women was immune to his charms.
“Where do you work?”
Danielle frowned. “What?”
Knuckles sighed. “Where do you work? What would your work do with whoever did that to your face?”
“Um, the Sheriff’s Department.”
He looked her up and down. “You’re not a cop.”
“Well, no. I was assisting the coroner, and now I’ve been hired. Officially.”
“Where’s McTavish going?”
“Well, he’s getting ready to retire.”
“Oh.”
“Are you staying or leaving?” Grace asked, eyes looking up at Knuckles, unimpressed. “Annie’s favorite part is coming up.” She gestured to the TV with her half-eaten slice.
Knuckles gave that smirk again and Danielle ordered her knees to stay solid. “You’re failing charm school, ain’t ‘ya?”
Grace rolled her eyes.
“Knuckles got called to work,” Danielle said, for no real reason other than to remind him he was on his way out.
“And I’ll go in a second. Just tell me how your face ended up like that.”
She turned and made for the kitchen, flicking the lights on. As expected, he followed her and the movie came to life on the TV again.
“Listen,” she hissed, planting a hand on the counter, trying to assume a power position somehow in this conversation. “I was cleaning this guy’s condo, his friend was there. They’d been drinking, I guess his stag day was today. Or tonight. Or whatever. But he...he got handsy with me.”
With an inhale, Knuckles’ back straightened, gaining him about three inches of height. She felt a bit short, then he urged her on. “And then what?”
“I tried to get away from him, but it pissed him off.”
Knuckles worked his left fist in the palm of his right hand, eyes purely gold now, jaw taught. “And then what?”
She sighed. “I ran.” Her voice broke, and she covered her mouth, then dropped her hand. No, she refused to still fear that asshole. He wasn’t here. “He caught me, pushed me. I tripped over the mop bucket and fell. I hit my head then. And he slapped me. That’s this.” She pointed to her cheek. “The lip, too. But then the guy I clean for was there, and he pulled him off me. Got me out of there.”
“Names.”
“What?”
“I want the guy’s name. Either the guy you’re working for or the other one. I’ll take care of it.”
“No, please.” She put a hand out, unsure what she meant to do with it. “Look, just let it be. I’m not working for him anymore, now that the county offered me a permanent position. That was the only private residence I cleaned. And he usually wasn’t even home.”
Knuckles slid his hands to each side of her neck, and she couldn’t have found another word to say with an entire dictionary download. His hands forced her face up towards his, and the position was so intimate she wouldn’t doubt it if she was blushing.
“You’re Annie’s mom, and you’re my neighbor. So, that means you don’t have to put up with this shit. And if someone does decide to put hands on you, he gets hurt. Bad. That’s kind of how this works.”
Now she had to frown, her hormones forgotten. “Why? Why does it work like that?”
“We take care of people in Markham. We don’t like them getting hurt, and when it’s a friend of ours we really take exception to that.”
The word friend chilled the skin under his hands. She stepped back, taking another breath. “I don’t want to make it a bigger deal than it is. I just want to forget it. This is something that happened to me. You don’t need to worry about it.”
He shook his head, hands on hips again. “Why do women do that?”
“What?”
“Just accept that this happens, like it’s to be expected. It’s not, you know. This is bullshit. And when I find out who it was—and I will find out, by the way—I’ll make them think twice about doing that shit again.”
Danielle swallowed. His eyes, again, showed exactly how angry he was. Like fire, that color.
“Please let it go?” Jesus, she sounded pathetic.
“Nope. But I gotta go. I’m at home tomorrow if Annie wants to work on the b
ike. Not too early, though. It’s Sunday and I like to sleep in on Sundays.”
She had to smile at that. “Okay. I’ll hold her back for a while.”
“Thanks.” Then he smiled again and she felt it in a very, very private place.
She was staring, but so was he. He was still very close. The heat of his body warmed her clothes, and having to look up at him reminded her how tall he was. Not burly, not even close, but there was something huge about his presence all the same. He filled the room, or maybe that was just her own attraction.
She licked her lips, then bit the bottom one, nervous now that no one was talking. His eyes watched the motion, then there was a falter in his smile. His eyes flared again and her stomach leapt. When his hand came up her heart rushed faster, hotter. With a small motion his thumb caught her chin, sweeping along her bottom lip to hold her jaw.
Holy shit. That one touch and her body ran wet then clenched tight. Why this man with oil under his nails and ink all over his body had her hormones racing she had no idea. All she knew for a fact was that this folly could not happen.
She pulled her head to the side, freeing from his hold and stepping out of his spell. “You should go,” she croaked, hearing the fluster in her tone.
“Danielle—”
“You said you had to go to work.” Jesus, she couldn’t even look at him.
“Shit, that’s right.” He ran a hand over his hair, and she snuck a glance. The hollow at the base of his throat stood out as he did it, head ducking down to study his feet. “Okay then. See you around.”
Long legs carried him out of her bright, cheerful kitchen and she let herself breathe again when the front door closed.
“Jesus, Mom. Are you going into heat?”
She jumped, covered her chest, then whirled on Grace. “Jesus. You scared me. And watch your mouth.”
Grace brought both hands up, eyebrows high to plead innocence. “Just taking note of the sudden tropical heat in the kitchen here.”
Danielle scoffed. “What do you want?”
Grace’s smile was slight and knowing. “He’s kind of hot, but the kind of hot that you always tell me is dangerous and wrong.”
“What do you want?” she repeated, crossing her arms.
Shelter (Red Rebels MC Book 5) Page 8