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The girl could live on the damn stuff if given the chance. That and pasta. She loves it. But she needs to eat other things, healthier foods.
“But I got an A on my test, and you said we’d celebrate.” She pouts.
Damnit, I did say that. Shit.
“Fine, we’ll do pizza.” I give in and drive straight to her favorite pizza place.
“Yes,” she squeals and starts rambling on about what she and her class did at school, how she was learning to add and tell time. All things she really already knows how to do thanks to the ol’ ladies working with her when I first got her. Bride’s an intelligent little girl and caught on quickly, though she was severally behind.
I pull into the parking lot and park. I turn off the engine, hop out, and round the front to get to Bride’s door to help her climb out. Considering the lift I have on my truck and the size of the tires, she has a hard time getting in and out. I always end up helping her, but she loves it and named my truck Big Blue.
Holding her hand, I take her inside, where we’re immediately seated in our usual spot, which tells you how often we’ve been in here. While we wait, Bride continues talking and I listen, but there’s only so much I can handle and finally ask, “What would you like to do this weekend?”
“Can we go fishing again?” she asks, smiling brightly.
“That what you want to do?” I ask.
“Yep, I wanna catch a big fish and show it to Lincoln.”
Oh hell.
“Then we’ll go fishin’,” I grumble, not liking the fact the only reason she wants to go is to impress a boy, but it’s better than going to see a girly movie. And I know she really does like fishing. The first time I took her, she had a blast. The girl had luck on her side and kept catching all the damn fish.
When the waitress brings our food out, I dish Bride up some of the pizza and pull my phone out. I notice I have an email and find it’s from Nerd.I open it to see that it’s the report on Noelle.
Fuck.
I start to close out of it, but I don’t. I can’t. For some unknown reason, I start reading through it and what I see doesn’t sit well with me.
CHAPTER4
NOELLE
The pain at seeing Beckham again is nearly more than I can take. Even two days later, after leaving the clubhouse, his hatred alone is enough to break me. I didn’t even know he and I were in the same town. Last I heard, he’d gone into the military. Then again, I try not to listen to anyone from in my area. I simply am just living and doing the best I can at keeping my parents in the house we’re all in without losing it.
I didn’t think he’d affect me as much as he does, but I can’t help it. It hurts—more than I ever thought possible.
It sucks majorly that the nanny job was for him. I would have loved it, but there’s no way possible I could ever work for him. Nope. No way.Rachel had wanted me to stay and talk. She asked me to let her talk some sense into Cyprus, as she called him. I can see why they’d call him. It’s who he is. I ended up pleading with Rachel to drop it and leave him be. He doesn’t need me in his life reminding him of a time that should be left in the past . . . for him, at least.
That night, I’d secluded myself in my room and went through a box of pictures of Noah, Beckham, and me after taking a tongue lashing from my mother for not having a job yet. I knew what this meant, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Because of them, I pay the price when there’s no money to give over to their dealer, Hector Dominquez. I have to pay for it in other ways. Usually, it ends with me in his bed and him brutally hurting me while he’s inside me. I can’t really call it rape because I do it willingly, but every time I always feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin because of his touch.
So, I’m definitely not looking forward to it.
Walking through the aisle, I’m not paying attention to my surroundings and end up hitting someone with my cart.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I gasp, and my eyes widen when I notice who I’ve run into. “Oh shit.” The words are no more than a breath as I back my cart away from Cyprus. I can’t even think of him as Beckham because the man in front of me isn’t him. This man, the biker, is no longer the boy I once knew. “I’ll, um, I’ll just go the other way.”
He’s not spoken yet but stares at me with heated eyes, and his jaw has that tick in it I know all too well.
I turn the cart and start in the other direction, only to be stopped by a hand gripping my upper arm. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I glance back to stare at him with wide eyes. “Can you let me go?”
“Why did you apply to be my nanny?” he asks, eyes narrowed, ignoring my command. “Did you know it was for me?”
I nervously lick my lips and glance around. “Let me go, Beckham.”
“It’s Cyprus. Now, answer the question.”
I step back as he steps deeper into my space and will myself to stand up against him. I can’t let him see me as the weak, pathetic woman I am. “Step back, Beckham,” I snap, not caring that he told me to call him Cyprus.
