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“I’m—”
“Don’t want no fucking excuses. I know your type. Think because you put on a uniform you’re irresistible to women. Because you do special operations or something like that. I don’t care how good you think you are. I’ve forgotten more about that life than you’ll ever learn.” He moved off down the hall to the end, where he slipped inside a room.
Hastings frowned as he stood there. Who the fuck was that man?
He walked back in the room, saw where his brothers were and made his way back to Violet and retook his position beside her.
“I understand where you’re coming from, but I respectfully disagree. This area is not suddenly more dangerous because there are unhoused persons staying here. This is a spot for veterans. And I will defend every person who we have staying here. There isn’t an open-door policy for simply anyone to come in and crash.” Violet rolled her shoulders.
Hastings cut his gaze to Bradford, who stood there, watching. He knew his brother was more than ready to jump in but he kept his mouth shut, allowing Violet to do the job Bradford had hired to her to.
“We vet every applicant who stays here. There is a long contract they have to sign. Rules to abide by.” She moved around the desk and bent to pull out some files from the bottom drawer.
They thumped to the desk with a shot of sound ricocheting through the room.
“These are just a handful of the ones I have to go through. The men and women who are here, selflessly served their country and have fallen on hard times. Transitioning back to civilian life isn’t easy. Not all of them can do it seamlessly. I have recipients of purple hearts, silver stars, and more here. None of that matters to me. People have to show they can follow the rules and guidelines set in place by Welcome Home. This isn’t the first time a Welcome Home housing building has opened. And they’ve done so with success. You, officers, are the problem, coming down here with your presumptions about those who have found themselves living on the street.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” The officer with the porn-star mustache crossed his arms as he spoke.
“I wish I could believe that. You rolled up here before seven with more than one cop car. That’s not coming to talk. You were expecting trouble. I’m here to tell you, that’s not what Welcome Home is about. These people fought for you and your freedoms so you could have your narrow-minded beliefs. All we ask is you keep them away from us as you try to not disrespect the badge too much.”
Hastings shot Paul a look and the man stepped forward to move Violet back.
“Excuse us, we have something else to attend to.” Paul led her from the room, leaving the officers with Hastings and his brothers.
Bradford pushed the door shut behind Paul and shoved his hands in his slacks.
“We know Senator Hayes put you up to this. I’m sure he’ll be showing up shortly with a few members of the brass.”
Livingston moved to one of Hastings’ sides as Bradford made his way to the other.
“The thing is, he’s not the only one with money in this venture. And some of us have a further reach.” Livingston propped himself against the desk like he hadn’t a care in the world.
“You were who again?” Hastings pointed at the officer who had sergeant stripes on his uniform.
“Sergeant Finnley.”
Yeah, he still didn’t give a fuck.
Chapter Seven
Paul let her go the moment they were in the hall and the door to the office had closed.
“Don’t say it,” she said, holding up her hands. “I know I lost it in there.”
“We’ll call it you being passionate.”
She snorted. “Call it what it is. I was spiraling. Fuck! I just can’t stand people like that.”
Paul settled his hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. It’s not going to do any of us good if that man in there knows you’re still pissed, because we all know he will beat the shit out of all those badges in there.”
“I don’t need his protection.”
He snorted. “Honey, you can say that until you’re blue in the face. That Rhodes brother has decided you’re his, and he is not going to let anyone harm you.”
She didn’t want to focus on how that made her insides tremble with desire. The front door opened and in strode Senator Hayes with his entourage, a few cops and some reporters.
Her cell vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it free. “This is Violet.”
“Miss Wentz, this is Dr. Pharo. You wanted me to update you on Evan Winter.”
“Has he woken?” she asked in a low tone.
“No, but he has visitors, a woman and a child.”
“I’m on my way. Thank you, doctor.” She ended the call.
