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Yet, here I was sitting in the passenger seat of his c
lassic monster car, relying on him for my next meal and room and board.
Because now I was the one who had nothing.
It felt strange to think those words. Nothing. No mother. No father. No sisters or brothers. My entire family... Gone.
Chest heaving, I clenched my suddenly trembling hands into fists in my lap and tried not to think about my mother or sister, or baby Bentley trapped inside our house, burning to death. But maybe the flames hadn’t taken them. Yeah, the smoke had probably killed them first, cutting off their air supply and slowly suffocating—
Okay, that didn’t help. Sweat slipped down my temple and I had to shift in my seat of Pick’s suddenly cramped car.
I wondered if they’d died in their sleep without realizing what was happening, or if they’d been awake, screaming, begging for someone to save them.
“So, you got a kid?” I blurted, glancing toward Pick.
I’d seen the child’s car seat in the back when I’d first climbed in. I hadn’t planned on mentioning anything because I hadn’t felt all that chatty. But now, anything to divert my thoughts was welcome.
“Two, actually,” Pick answered.
As I nodded, not sure what to say next, he continued. “You remember Tristy I used to hang out with?”
“Yeah.” I’d never been fond of her. She’d been too bitter, too susceptible, too hardened. And she’d always managed to suck Pick into some form of trouble that he had to save her from. Learning he’d had a kid with her depressed me. I’d kind of hoped he’d broken free of her.
But, wait. Hadn’t he said he’d fallen for a rich man’s daughter? Tristy had been in the same boat as him—floating from one foster care family to the next.
“She’s dead,” Pick stated mildly enough to make me startle.
“Tristy?”
He nodded, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth so he could clank his teeth against his two lip rings. “When she died, I adopted her son. And Tink has a girl of her own, which makes two little rug rats toddling around our place.”
“Tink?” I asked
Pick’s entire face lit up. “My woman,” he explained. “I call her Tinker Bell, but her real name’s Eva. You’ll meet her soon enough.”
I didn’t realize just how soon until he parked in front of an apartment complex and then led me up to a third-floor entrance.
“Hey, Tink,” he called as soon as he opened the door and stepped inside, leaving me to follow. “I’m home.”
I had no idea he was going to bring me to his place, so I stopped uncertainly in the doorway.
“What? Already?” a female voice answered before a stunning blonde appeared in the hallway with a toddler on one hip and another trailing along behind her. “What about Zoey and the—”
Her words died on her tongue the moment she saw me. “Oh! Hi...” she said hesitantly, transferring a confused glance to Pick and then back to me.
“Baby, this is an old school friend of mine...Knox Parker.”
“O...kay.” She furrowed her brow before sending me a hesitant smile. “Hey, Knox. It’s nice to—” But her eyes flashed wide before she jerked her attention to Pick. “Wait. Is he the one who—”
“Yes,” Pick cut in, answering immediately and loudly. When the kid on the floor hobbled to him and lifted his arms, Pick bent to retrieve the child and set him on his hip. “That’s exactly who Knox is. And I will explain everything to you....” His eyebrows lifted meaningfully. “Later.”
His Tinker Bell only blinked. “Okay, but what about—”
When Pick widened his eyes tellingly, she quieted and glanced at me. I tried to squeeze inside my huge frame as much as possible so I didn’t look as large and murderous as I couldn’t help but appear. Then I took a step out of the apartment and back into the hallway.
But what the hell?
Pick had brought me to his home...to his wife and children, without even clearing it with her first? Was he insane?
