Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls) (14 page)

Without
a word, Nathan picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He deposited her
on the bed, and she watched him walk into the bathroom. The sound of water made
her feel an inch tall after what she'd done to him. Why was he being so nice?

Back
in the room, he pulled her off the bed and peeled her shirt off. "Go take
your shower. I'm going to make some phone calls. When you're done, I'll jump
in. I need to be in at work soon."

She
walked away. Behind the door, she sagged in relief. The steam rolling over the
glass shower doors a welcome sight. She'd feel more energized once she worked
the stiffness out of her muscles.

Fifteen
minutes later, she dragged herself out of the shower stall and slipped on her
robe. Her experience with her hot water heater was precise. Nathan only had ten
minutes more before he'd be taking a cold shower. She had no idea if he spent a
long time washing, but thought she'd better play it safe.

Literally,
on tiptoes, she walked out into the bedroom. "You can have the
bathroom."

He
ran his hand down her arm, held her hand, and kept her from walking past him.
"I'll run you to Car Dolls on my way to work."

She
tilted her head. "It's in the opposite direction. I can drive there, and
that way I have my car to bring me home."

"You're
not coming back here. I want you at my place." He kissed her forehead
before walking into the bathroom.

Unlike
her, he left the door open. She stepped across the room and stared into her
closet. Today's schedule meant nothing. She grabbed the first thing she
touched.

A
red modest dress with a scooped neckline would give her a classy polished look.
The hem hit her at the knee and would cover the bruises, hiding the evidence of
what transpired between her and Nathan. She turned the hanger around and
frowned. The open back showed a lot of skin.

She
set the dress on the bed, dropped the robe, and walked to her full-length
mirror. Peering over her shoulder, she scanned her back. A relieved sigh
escaped.

Her
back was unmarred.

After
dressing, she slipped on her heels and sat on the edge of the bed with her hairbrush.
Not in the mood to take time over her hair, she swept the damp strands into a braid,
accenting the combined strands with a pearl clip.

Nathan
walked out with a towel around his waist. She averted her eyes and kept busy
putting the contents of one purse into the small handbag she used with the
black shoes. Then she sat at her dressing table, lined her eyes with the color
kohl, and put on red lipstick. Only when she'd finished did she realize she went
with power colors.

Red
and Black.

Severe
hairstyle.

Heavy
makeup.

Inside,
she felt like someone kicked her ass. The sore spots, the bruises, the exertion
of their night together had nothing to do with any of her reactions. She simply
could not grasp letting Nathan run her life.

"What
time will you get off work?" He buttoned up his shirt.

She
glanced at him. "Seven."

"I'll
pick you up in the lobby of your building. Don't wait outside if I'm running
late." He flipped up his collar and tossed his tie around his neck.

"I
already told you, I'm driving. There's no need for you to come." She
smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

His
sharp intake of air had her gazing at him again. He struggled with his tie. She
walked over and shooed his hands away. Concentrating on his neck, she said.
"I'd like to come home to my own house, my own bed."

He
stopped her hands, lifted her chin. "No."

A
shiver went down her spine. She dropped her gaze. "Whatever," she
mumbled.

He
chuckled and his adam's apple brushed against the back of her fingers. "I
pushed you last night, and you begged for more. You feed off me, doll. That
makes me happy."

She
made quick use of his tie, and stepped away. "I need to get to work or
I'll be late."

She
lied. Today, she had only scheduled afternoon appointments. She never went out
on a request on a Tuesday. She'd spend the morning setting the dolls' work
hours and preparing paychecks for Friday's payday. At lunch, she walked down to
the Columbia River and took a little extra to the woman's shelter.

Winter
was coming, and they needed all the donations they could get. While there,
she'd check on Lilly.

"I'm
ready." He followed her downstairs.

Outside
the house, he took her keys from her and locked the door. She held out her hand
for him to return them, and instead he slipped the keychain into his pocket.
Then he took out his wallet, removed something out of one of the folds, pressed
the hidden object into the slot where her key fit and turned around.

Halfway
down the path to the street, she glanced at him. "What did you do?"

"A
little insurance in case any of my friends think of returning, I'll know."
He placed his hand on her back and guided her to the car.

At
the passenger door, she stopped. "You don't trust them."

He
motioned for her to get inside, and then leaned down and buckled her seatbelt.
"I don't trust anyone."

The
door slammed. She flinched. Okay. That wasn't a good thing to hear.

She
slept with him. A lot. He asked her to rip away her soul, and she'd bared
herself to him. And, he would never trust her.
Shit.

Chapter
Sixteen

Addison
left the rundown building on First Street and instead of walking back to work,
she headed in the opposite direction. Nathan slipped out of his car, and
decided to follow her on foot. His growing concern that Addison withdrew from
him concreted in his mind as he caught her lying.

She
wasn't working.

The
only thing ahead of her was the Columbia River and the unused road under the
I-5 Bridge. He slowed his pace. No one, not even in the daylight, had any
business walking into the homeless camp unless they were indeed homeless and
wanted to risk their life.

Long
time known for the makeshift shelters, questionable livelihood, and territorial
thirst, the vagabonds who'd claimed the south side of the highway would not let
just anyone wander into their encampment.

A
young adult male flashed underneath the old Army tent. Nathan's skin prickled.
In ten seconds, everyone would get word a stranger stepped over the boundary.

At
one time, he'd had the job of alerting the others, as did his brother and any
other young kid with good ears and a solid head on his shoulders not too filled
with drugs or drink. He wouldn't expect Addison to know what was happening
around her, but he also hadn't thought her a fool. Everyone in the Portland and
Vancouver area knew you stayed away from the homeless camps.

Law
enforcement ignored the non-tax payers of town for the most part. Legally
unable to ask them to move, they stayed away unless an emergency happened or
someone called in because another one died in their sleep. Although, even then,
it was too easy to blame the lifestyle, the elements, the questionable cause of
death on anything but hard living.

With
no family and no name, an individual was carted away to be cremated on the
states dime. No service provided for his or her friends, no gravesite, the
person merely disappeared. Just like how they lived life. His gaze remained on
Addison as he took in the rest of the occupants.

Addison
hesitated at the edge of camp and lifted her hand to shade her eyes, trying to
peer into the darker regions under the bridge. An old man approached her. Nathan
forgot about keeping his distance, hurried toward her, looping into a jog when
the man reached for her.

Too
far away, he watched her follow the guy into the bowels of the camp. The silent
alarm went off. Then the young man reappeared from inside the tent, a shiny
blade clutched in his hand. A couple, he guessed in their thirties, approached
from the other side of the street, and stood between him and Addison.

The
shady eyes, hardened by life, warned him away without a word. He refused to
listen. Addison was his main concern. These people struck no fear inside of
him.

Living
on the streets, protecting what was his was inbred in him from the time he was
ten years old. He could never outrun his past. Once part of the family, the
only way he'd leave was if he was dead.

He
stopped in front of the three misfits. No match for his size or skill, he fell
back on reputation.

"Fifth
Street Raffy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The
young man's brows rose before he schooled his reaction to hearing the name
Nathan went by so many years ago. The boy, really, probably wasn't around at
the time, had heard the name before.

"We
watch," the other man said, stepping back.

He
dipped his chin and slipped past them. The knife, the weapons, the defensive
stances were no match for his hands, but would kill Addison.

He
weaved through trash, cardboard huts, and littered people still knocked out
cold or merely sleeping during the day while it was safe, so they could remain
alert at night when the real danger waited for them. He strained to see ahead
of him. If he lost sight of Addison, he knew no one would help him find her.

At
first glance, it seemed as if she'd disappeared. He jumped on top of a wooden
crate, hoping it'd withstand his weight.

At
the added height, a flash of red disappeared behind a large pillar. He jumped
down and ran. Cussing his dress shoes and trousers, he caught Addison by the
arm before she dipped her head below the tarp.

She
froze and whipped her startled gaze at him. "Nathan," she said on an
exhale.

"Come
on." He tugged on her hand and dragged her two steps before she struggled.
"Addison. Come with me now."

"No."
She ripped out of his grasp and glared. "I have something to do."

"Not
here you don't." He growled. "What the hell are you thinking? This
isn't some place you go on a lunchtime walk. Do you have any idea what kind of
a risk you've taken?"

"I
know exactly what I'm doing." Her voice rose. "I have a right to be
here."

The
tarp moved and a woman, no more than twenty-five years old, stepped out and
stood by Addison. Movement from behind the homeless woman grabbed his
attention. He clamped his teeth.

No
more than five or six, a dirty child, he couldn't guess the sex, slipped
between the woman and Addison. He frowned as the kid raised her hand and
clasped onto Addison's fingers.

Addison's
anger toward him forgotten, she kneeled on the ground, ignoring the dirty
street with discarded cigarette butts, filth, and debris. The child threw her
arms around Addison's neck and she lifted the kid up as she stood.

His
gaze flashed between the child's face and Addison's eyes. His chest tightened
as he tried to understand what was going on in front of him. All he could
absorb was the strange attentiveness radiating from Addison.

She
literally discounted him, her focus so intent on the child.

"Hey,
Princess Lilly," she whispered, a gentle but genuine smile on her face.
"Did you see the Stern Wheeler go by yesterday?"

Lilly
shook her head, the motion created a deep hacking cough. Addison's gaze lifted
to the woman. "In my purse, there's a bottle of Penicillin. Make sure she
takes all of the medicine, even if she starts to feel better."

The
woman drew closer. Addison shifted, allowing the woman to search in her purse
hanging off her shoulder. She wasn't concerned about the woman stealing from
her, but he watched. Years ago, an opportunity like the one Addison presented
him, would mean he'd filch every dime from her.

However,
the woman only removed the bottle filled with pink liquid. Confused and
fascinated, he rocked back on his heels. The whole scene left him uncomfortable
as if his clothes were too small and constricted his breathing.

He'd
experienced the same thing on his first boardroom meeting. The first time Professor
Frank gave him a suit to wear. The first time he put a down payment on the
apartment when he left the streets. Yet, here, these people were familiar to
him.

Even
the sick kid, the hungry woman, the desolate stench in the air comforted him.

Addison
standing in a red dress, holding a dirty child, mumbling comforting words, and
taking care of someone designated an emotion in him that was foreign to him. He
wanted to admit he enjoyed the feelings Addison pulled from him, but it hurt.

"I'll
come back in a few days." Addison shifted Lilly to her other hip.
"You know where to find me…"

"Thank
you," the woman whispered.

Addison's
appearance here shocked him, but when she pulled Lilly's head down to her
shoulder, kissed her filthy hair, and handed the child back to the woman was
his undoing. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her through the encampment. Not
stopping for anyone, he wanted her far away from here.