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It was a good thing he only showed up for the last ten to fifteen minutes of my cleaning shift. Otherwise I would struggle to finish on time.
The first time I saw him here, I worried he was going to renege on Addy’s approval. Cleaning the gym every night pushed me dangerously close to missing the curfew at the house, but I was determined to make it work—and I was determined to fight to keep the position.But I hadn’t had to.
Zeke left my fears again unfounded when he hadn’t offered anything except a curt smile and nod of acknowledgment from a distance before he went about his business and let me take care of mine.
After the conversation in his office, I sensed my silence had hurt him. But I couldn’t explain—wouldn’t explain—why I didn’t trust men who seemed the most trustworthy.If I did, I might never see my son again.
With that sobering thought, I blew a stray strand of hair out of my face, grabbed my spray bottle and towels, and went to my bag. I always finished with the mirrors, so that meant I was done for the night.
Avoiding another glance at Zeke, I bundled up my things, hoisted my supply bag over my shoulder, and when I turned to head for the exit, I ran right into a solid presence behind me.
After being held in Zeke’s strong arms twice in the last two weeks, it took no time to realize the hands that grabbed me weren’t his, and even less for this touch to make me squeamish.
I tensed. “Sorry,” I murmured to the beefy guy who’d introduced himself to me on my first day. I couldn’t remember his name.Mike? Mark?All I remembered was wondering what this guy must be taking to look the way that he did, his muscles so round and bulging it looked like he had tennis balls stuffed under his shirt.
“Don’t apologize for putting yourself in my arms, gorgeous.” His voice grated on me.
I stepped back, and he released me. Over his shoulder, I caught Zeke’s gaze again in the mirror. He was frozen. The dumbbells in his hands poised mid-rep as he watched our interaction. I could see the beat of his jaw muscle flex even from here. This time, I didn’t look away. I held his stare for comfort, knowing he was watching over me.
“Okay.” I didn’t want to make a scene, and I definitely didn’t want Zeke to feel like he had to step in. I could take care of myself. Iwouldtake care of myself. “Well, thanks.” I managed a tight smile and sidestepped the man to head toward the door.
“Here, allow me.” His arm reached and opened it for me. I almost thought I was overreacting, that he was being nice—a little forward but nice—but then I saw he had his things with him.He was leaving now, too.
Crap.
It was fine. I breathed deep. The parking lot was well lit and led right out onto Ocean Avenue which would still have some people wandering about, heading back from late dinners or after-dinner drinks.It was fine.
“Thank you,” I murmured and darted through, careful to avoid any contact with him.As much as I wanted to look back—to see if Zeke was still watching me—I didn’t. I didn’t want to instigate any further conversation with this guy. “Have a good night.”
The next thing I knew, a big hand clamped around my wrist and held me back.
“Now, hold up a minute, gorgeous.”
“Let me go,” I said. It was going to be my first and only request.
“I just want a chance to talk to you is all,” he chuckled as he spoke, as though it was a laughing matter that he’d ignored my wish.
“You don’t need to touch me to talk to me,” I said sharply, balled my hand below his grasp, and then dragged my elbow forward toward his forearm like we’d learned in our self-defense class. Within a second, the leverage on his hand was too much, and he was forced to release me.
“Oh, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?” He started to reach for me again as though the concept ofnowas non-existent.
I stepped back so quickly I stumbled just as the door to the gym slammed open, a rough shout echoing the vibration of metal and glass.
“Hey!”Zeke’s voice rippled through the parking lot like a crack of thunder straight from Zeus himself.
Even though I was free, the wave of relief I felt only came when I heard Zeke—when I knew he was here.
The muscled jerk turned and lifted his hands like he’d been completely innocent this whole time. “Can I help you?” he snapped at Zeke.
“Yeah. You can make sure you have all of your things and never come back here again.”
The other man jerked and snarled. “Seriously? You don’t own this place. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Zeke continued to approach him, and I covered my mouth to stop myself from crying out to stop. While they were about the same height, this guy had at least thirty pounds of muscle on Zeke. And if that muscle was accompanied with roid rage, I didn’t want to think about what he could do.
“You don’t want to know, Mark,” Zeke said, his voice low and ominous.
He knew the man’s name.
