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Sophie spends a half hour in the room with my mother as we wait in the hall. Jake has asked me a dozen times if I’m sure about not going in and I glare at him coldly. He clamps his mouth shut and looks away. His jaw tenses in agitation, but he leaves it alone.
He just doesn’t get it at all; he has no way to understand my relationship with her when his own mother is everything you could want in a parent. Kind, caring, protective, and loyal. She would move mountains for her sons and is an advocate for abused children across all states. He wouldn’t understand.My mother is the polar opposite. I spent my childhood being her carer, protector, and mother. Fighting off aggressive men she brought home. I bought my baseball bat with money from a news delivery job at eleven and I used it more than once to shield her from overly violent arguments with her current beau. Even at such an early age; my fire and rage uncontrollable. It saved me from advances so many timeRelated chapters
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Everything Sophie owns is in the car with our bags, which isn’t much. She is, after all, a runaway from a poor town and impoverished parents. One grubby and torn rucksack that’s so full the zipper is coming undone.The trip to the airfield is short and silent as we all mull things over in our heads. Jake has glanced down at his cell a ton of times and I know he’s been waiting for his mother to call back with more definite plans for Sophie. In the meantime, we have agreed that we’ll both stay at his Manhattan apartment with her until she’s placed in a safe environment through the proper channels. He has more than enough rooms for all of us. Jake feels she needs me there to feel safe as having her with him alone just doesn’t feel right to him, considering her back story. It’s not appropriate.Sophie is sitting with eyes as wide as saucers; all of this so overwhelming to her and I think, realization, is finally dawning that this is th
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The day is tiring, and my hair has endlessly stuck to my face in this humidity. Vegas is hot and dusty and I’m still grumpy and tired. We flew out here right after Sophie was taken away by the care worker and Jake’s mother, Sylvana Carrero. The beautiful, kind goddess, who looks so alarmingly like her son, but in a very feminine way. I love her in every way; anytime I meet her, she has this easy charm and stunning green eyes and the ability to put you at ease, much like he does.I fought tears when hugging Sophie goodbye; our time together so short, yet she has come to mean so much to me. Jake bought her a new cell and pre-set both of our numbers and emails into it as a parting gift, that way we can always stay in touch and she knows we will be there if she needs us. We are to be her eternal guardians in life, and I know that from this day on, I will always be in Sophie’s story. We have a bond like no other. We understand each other.“Want to try th
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The casino is everything I imagined it would be; I’ve watched enough episodes of CSI to not be awed at the splendor of the vast red carpeted room, filled with machines and tables and noise. He tries his luck at a few tables and soon looks bored. He’s never been much of a gambler; he likes to have situations laid out in a way that he controls the players and always wins. It’s why he’s his father’s second in command with his inherited skills. Although after the Hunter merger, I’m beginning to think his skills surpass that of Senior, seeing he knew how to play him well.“You want to hit a club instead of this?” he’s close to me and I can already tell he’s fed up with the casino. I glance at a couple of women appraising him up and down and am mildly irritated. Maybe I should point him in the direction of the two leggy blondes and go back to the room. Have my quiet night after all. Seeing them look him over like fresh meat
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In the car he lays me down flat on my back and pulls off my shoes, cradling my feet in his lap with warm sensual hands kneading them softly, avoiding conversation or eye contact; I nestle my head against the door to stop the world spinning.His hands are exquisite on my ankles and feet and it feels better than good; no one’s ever taken my shoes off like this. No one has ever just run soft fingers over my feet at all, the way he’s doing now. He’s gentle and attentive, something most people would not expect of Jake Carrero. Handsy, but not in a sleazy way, not really, despite all his jokes and sexual innuendos. He just always makes me feel safe.“Why are you stealing my shoes?” I mumble playfully, trying not to squirm in case he stops. “I like those shoes.” I’m angling for humorous Jake, flirty Jake. I like arguing with him, he’s always funny; I don’t like this silent, pondering version, even though I’m sure h
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“Emma,” he breaths sharply. Jake hauls me toward him, trying to wrap his arms around me, but I don’t like it. I’m in memory mode and men’s unwelcome touch firing through my brain. I don’t want him to see me cry over this, not over these memories and those men. Not over that shit or Ray Vanquis. My mind is a chaos of rage and trauma.“Stop it … Stop it …” I’m resisting him, but he’s stronger and faster and I’m still drunk with slow reactions. The racking sobs making me weak and he’s determined to hold me.“Shhh. Shhhh. Emma. Shhh.” He captures me, cradling my head against his cheek, even though I’m still fighting, but I’m losing. I don’t like the noises coming from deep within me, like I’m spiraling out of control. I hate this. I’m not weak. I’m not vulnerable. The wails don’t sound like they’re coming from me and I push his hands
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I spend the meeting the next day wearing Jake’s sunglasses and nursing a hangover. My eyes are puffy and sore and my head’s banging.He put me to bed last night and left me alone until our first meeting this morning; he didn’t even push at me to eat breakfast or jog with him for a change. I know he’s walking on eggshells waiting to see how I am. He’s giving me distance, or maybe he’s just looking at me and thinking I’m probably mentally broken and could fall apart any day now so he should handle with care.I’m in cool and grumpy mode and I’m really excelling at it. Covering my inner turmoil and regrets; so far, I think I’ve snapped at every person I’ve met in triplicate and Jake’s met my PMS face with a vengeance. He’s said nothing about it, no funny comments or sarcastic telling off’s, just frowned at me. He’s tugged my hand out of my hair repeatedly, which is down because I couldn&r
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The dance is nice, very grand with an awesome Asian feel. There are lots of authentic looking costumes, drinks, and lots of sparkly things to eye up. There’s a whole host of speeches and droning speeches before the dance gets underway, and as usual, the flashing of a million cameras. I’m so used to them nowadays I never really notice anymore.“Dance, Miss. Anderson?” Jake’s back in charming and happy mode and dazzles me with a gorgeous relaxed smile.“Certainly, Mr. Carrero.” I take his hand and follow him through the crowd to join other guests; it’s a slow song and he moves me expertly. Dancing with Jake is fast becoming one of my favorite past times. Like everything he does, it’s with a smooth, confident capability that seems annoyingly easy for him.“It’s a good thing you have a young female PA.” I smile up at him, feeling relaxed in his embrace, letting myself ooze into him.“Why is
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“I think you like getting me drunk, Jake.”“I like loosening you up, starchy pants. Makes it easier to get you naked.” He winks at me and that devilish smile reappears, a nearby waitress gawps at what she has overheard and moves away fast. I can only sigh and raise a brow at him.“You pay me to keep my pants starched remember, and on! If I was, Miss. Loose and lively, I would be a shitty PA.” We move to sit at an empty table amid my disapproving scold.“I don’t know, might be fun having a drunk PA. A naked one would be even better. Would love to see you endure a stuffy meeting in full blown drunk Emma mode. Not sure I would let others see you naked though.” He shrugs again, pulling out my chair and seating me at the table. He gestures for another waiter seeing as our server has taken off.“I probably wouldn’t be a hit … naked or not. Especially with the stuffed shirts you have meetings with.
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