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“Hey! You can’t just come in here like that, Raf.” Her features were screwed up, but I didn’t miss the bags under her eyes and how puffy they were. She’d been crying, and I fuckin’ hated the thought of that.
I silently shut the door, then locked it behind me, still not intending to give her her keys, at least, not yet anyway. I wanted answers, whether she wanted to give them or not. I didn’t care that I’d told her it was okay for us to both have secrets. I’d changed my mind…things were different now—since last night.
“I’ll give them to you,” I told her, ambling past her and into the living room where I placed myself down onto the edge of her sofa, waiting…
“Raf,” she warned, following me in. She stood in the middle of the room, her arms crossed over her chest, pushing her tits up. Fuck. I swore I could still feel her soft skin against my palms. It didn’t help that she was in a pair of pajama shorts and another tank. My goddamn kryptonite.
“I want answers first.” Her face paled, her mouth drooping as she glanced away, looking anywhere but at me. “You can look away all you want, mama, it don’t make a difference.” I relaxed back on the sofa, determined to get some insight. I was living off of bits and pieces when it came to her. Trying to read between the lines. “I’m done guessing, Peyton.” My tone was deeper now, showing her that I was being deadly fuckin’ serious. “Who was he?”
Her chest heaved as she pulled in a deep breath, her gaze finally making it back to mine. She searched me, clearly trying to see whether she could trust me or not. I was an open book…only when it came to her though.
“My ex,” she whispered, her eyes closing. “Kian and Reed’s dad.”
I ground my teeth together, her confirmation no different to my hunch. “And you’re running from him?” She nodded, her eyes screwed closed so tight that it was making lines on her face. “You have been this entire time?” She stuttered a breath in answer. I didn’t need her to tell me everything, all I needed was her to confirm or deny it at this point. “And…” I stood slowly, causing her eyes to open. “He hurt you, mama?”
Her shoulders dropped, her body shutting down as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to offer some comfort. She was used to doing that, that much was clear. “All the time,” she croaked out. She shook her head, but she wasn’t telling me to stop my advances to her, it was more like she was trying to get rid of the memories. “The first time…” She trailed off, looking up at me as I made it to her, my hands immediately touching her waist and bringing her to me.
I didn’t say anything, just listened, knowing that she needed this—needed me and my support—to say what she needed to. “I got you, mama,” I murmured, squeezing my fingers on her waist.
“Do you?” she asked, so unsure.
“Always.”
Silence stretched, our words sinking in, and I could tell that she wanted to believe it, but there was something stopping her, until she parted her lips, all the walls she’d erected coming down as she said, “The first time he slapped me, he swore he wouldn’t do it again.”
I tried my utter hardest to keep my face neutral, to not let her see the rage that was building up inside me, but fuck, it was hard, so damn hard.
“I was stupid.” She laughed, but it was so sad. “It was weeks until he hit me again, only this time it was worse.” She chewed on her bottom lip, her gaze shooting around the room, her head turning.
Grabbing her chin with my thumb and finger, I brought her attention back to me. “Focus on me, mama. It’s just us here.”
“I…” She blinked, her body swaying forward and leaning on me. “I thought he’d stop, but it…it just got worse. Then I had Kian and…we moved, so it was just me and him…then Reed came along, and yeah, it just…it got worse.”
Worse.Worse.There was so much more behind the word worse, but I knew she wouldn’t expand on it, not right now, not when she’d already confessed so much to me. And if I was honest, the thought of having details of how he hurt her wouldn’t be a good thing. I’d show my anger to her, and that was the last thing she needed to see.
“So you ran?” It was a question that she didn’t need to answer, but she nodded anyway. “And now he’s found you.”
She let out a breath, her body leaning more on me, so I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her up. “I don’t know how. I know I saw him at the grocery store but…”
“That was too long ago.” I frowned, looking over her head, trying to figure it out. “He would have come before now if he’d seen you there.” I paused, holding her a little tighter, and just now noticing a scar above and below her lips. I wanted to ask her how that happened, but my gut told me that I already knew.Him.
Fuck. I wanted to kill him. I knew how to do it and not get caught, but more than that, I knew how to make it hurt so damn bad that he’d plead for his life.
“He said he was tracking me,” Peyton said suddenly, her muscles tensing. I glanced down at her. “But I don’t understand how.”
Frowning, I let go of her, standing as I tried to put the pieces together. “Your car wasn’t here this morning.” I paced toward the door and back again, knowing it could only be one thing. I pulled my cell out, dialing the one number that would know what was happening—Remy, our in-house computer guy.
“What are you doing?” Peyton asked.
I turned to face her, opening my mouth to tell her, but Remy answered his cell in that moment. “Raf?”
“Remy,” I greeted. “I need to know options of how to be tracked.”
There was a pause, then, “What kind of options? Give me parameters.” He was to the point, something I appreciated in that moment.
“Someone I know is being tracked. Not by their car, but something within their house.”
“Normally cell,” Remy said.
