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And Hut still wasn’t back yet.
The discolored clock hanging on the wall told me it was after four now, and just as I was about to stand to take a look around the house without having to worry about prying eyes, a floorboard overhead squeaked. I froze in the chair and tilted my head to the side, listening for the footsteps as they moved above me and down the stairs. I didn’t turn. Instead, I kept my focus on the ticking hands of the clock, waiting to see who it was. There was an eeriness to the way the house felt, almost as if it was suspended in time.
“Fuck,” a soft voice whispered from the living room, and my body relaxed. It was the kid. Why the hell was she venturing down here at this time in the morning?
She walked right by me, not saying a word as she moved toward the refrigerator and pulled a bottle of water out. She wasn’t stupid, she knew I was there, and yet she chose not to acknowledge me. I was fascinated by the way she unscrewed the top off the bottle and bought it to her lips. She tilted her head back, and my gaze zoned in on the faint bruises that lined her tan skin.
“You gonna keep staring or say something?”
My gaze flicked up to her face, and I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. This kid had fire, I could tell that with one sentence and the smirk lifting her lips. She’d balanced on a knife’s edge a few hours ago, but she was acting as if this was just another normal day. Maybe it was a normal day for her? Maybe she liked living like this?
“You good?” I asked, my deep voice vibrating from my throat. I waited for her answer and leaned back in the chair, careful not to put all of my weight into it just in case it snapped under me. I wasn’t a huge guy by any means, but my job and the sessions in the gym to keep me at the top of my game gave me a high muscle mass.
“Me?” She raised a brow and capped her water. “Why would you ask that?” Her brows furrowed in genuine confusion as she dropped her arm by her side. My gaze couldn’t be stopped from following her arm and taking her all in. She was wearing a hoodie that was three sizes too big but hit her knees in a way that made it sexy without being obvious.
But then, I didn’t think that was what she was trying to achieve. If anything, I wondered if she was trying to go by unnoticed. Unlucky for her, she wasn’t the kind of woman who people didn’t see.
Fuck. She was just a kid. What the hell was I thinking?
I tilted my head and stood. “I dunno, maybe because of the ring of bruises around your neck?” I shrugged as I moved closer to her.
Her hand fluttered to her neck, and she winced as her fingertips made contact. I was sure she could feel it on the inside of her throat too if her croaky voice was anything to go by.
“I’m fine,” she rushed out, moving to the side when I made it within a couple of feet of her.
I suppressed the grin that wanted to spread across my face. She wasn’t scared of me, but she was wary. Good, her instincts were spot on. So why the hell was she still living here?
My body buzzed being this close to her, my pulse going haywire. This kid was tying me up in knots, and I had no idea why. Maybe it was my protective instincts and the purple hue that was starting to appear around her throat?
“You should take some pain meds and try not to talk much over the next couple days.” I pulled myself a bottle of water out and spun around to face her, leaving only a couple of feet between us.
“And you’d know all about that, would you, Brody?”
I shouldn’t love the way my name rolled off her tongue, but I couldn’t help wanting to hear it again. “Something you’ll never know, kid.”
Her nose wrinkled, and her lips pursed. Why the fuck did I find that so cute? Jesus Christ, this kid was going to be the death of me, and I hadn’t even had a proper conversation with her yet.
“You know how patronizing that is?” She waited for my answer, but when I didn’t give her one, she continued, “Really fuckin' patronizing, old man.”
I chuckled, the deepness reverberating around us. “Touché.”
Her lips curved up into a ghost of a smile, and I willed it to extend further, needing to see what her face looked like when she was carefree and didn’t have a worry in the world. Every photo I’d seen of her she seemed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Don’t give it if you can’t take it,” she replied, pulling the sleeve of her hoodie over her hand. Was she nervous being around me? Was she like that with all of Hut’s crew? “Plus, I’m not a kid.”
“Sure you are.” I paused, bending my knees so that my face was level with hers. “What are you, seventeen?”
I knew her age, but I couldn’t give that away. I had to make her tell me, just like her name. I didn’t, for one second, think she didn’t know what was going on around here. She was observant, that much I knew.
“Nineteen.” She shook her head. “What are you? Like fifty?”
I guffawed and pushed my hand through my hair, sure to make it stick up on end, but I didn’t care. I was always aware of how my body moved and what I was portraying—it was something I’d picked up early on in my teens. You had to present yourself in a certain way, even if you were feeling the opposite. It was all about appearances.
“Nice try, but I’m thirty-five, kid.”
She raised a brow, her gaze tracking the length of me and stopping at my eyes. “Name’s Lola, not kid.” She twirled around. “And FYI, you look good for thirty-five.” That ghost of a smile turned full blown, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
