Pursuit: Blood Bandits MC (10 page)

Something about watching her cook made me feel good inside. It felt right. And it terrified me. The kid, the apartment, the woman in the kitchen. I got up so fast, Emma looked scared.

“Sorry, kid. Just gotta…go to the bathroom.”

“It’s right there.” She pointed around the corner, where she had come from. I followed the path and locked myself in when I got there.

No way you’re doing this
, I thought, my forehead against the door to the tiny, tiny room. There was hardly enough space for a tub, toilet, and sink. It felt claustrophobic as hell, and I didn’t usually have a problem with that. It was the way I felt inside that got to me. I felt pressure all around me. I wanted to help her. I wanted to stay far, far away.

What did it say about me that I felt so comfortable with her so fast? With the kid? I went from hating kids to kind of liking Emma in about five seconds. Was I that desperate for whatever I thought I could get from them?

“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Don’t do it. Help her. But stay away from her.”

Kara

I couldn’t help smiling to myself as I made dinner. I even hummed as I mixed meat and breadcrumbs in my hands. It seemed natural to feel happy, relieved. It wasn’t the wine, though, that had helped me get through the awkward conversation with Dom. It was the feeling that I didn’t have as much to be worried about that left me smiling from ear to ear.

It was a false feeling. I knew that much. I wasn’t deluded. I could think I was as safe as I wanted to, but that didn’t make it true. Eric was still very real. The ever-dwindling number in my bank account was painfully real. I couldn’t ignore those things any more than I could ignore my child.

But I didn’t have to worry about it alone. I’d nearly gone crazy the week alone with Emma. I had seen almost no one but her, had spoken to only a few people. I’d lived like a prisoner. And it didn’t hit me how deeply affected I was until Dom walked in and took a little of the burden off my shoulders.

I wondered if he knew what he was getting into. I’d tried to warn him about Eric, and I would have to do it again to make certain there was no misunderstanding. The man was dangerous, and connected. I shuddered to think how connected he was. Maybe connected enough to make a person disappear.

The thought made my blood run cold. If I put Dom in danger, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. It wasn’t that I had feelings for him—that much I knew. He still sort of scared me, with his sheer size and that certain animal magnetism of his. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew it was there. It freaked me out, the way he repulsed me and drew me to him all at once.

If Eric hurt him, I might never forgive myself. Just another slab of guilt to tack onto the already heaping portion I carried around with me. I shouldn’t have married him. I shouldn’t have stayed. I shouldn’t have left and uprooted my daughter’s life. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have. My ever-present litany of self-abuse.

I glanced into the living room to find the two of them on the sofa. Emma didn’t normally warm up to people as quickly as she had to Dom. That told me something about the person he really was. Kids could always tell, couldn’t they? A sort of sixth sense about others. She seemed to trust him. A good sign, I thought. And he put up with her insane cartoons. Another good sign.

I grinned, rolling the meat into uniform balls which I then put in the heated oven. I thought that night’s dinner should be a bit fancier since we had guests. Darlene had been kind enough to include a loaf of frozen garlic bread, which I put on the oven’s lower rack. I made a quick salad, too, just a few things I had in the fridge. It was such a rare treat, having a guest for dinner who wasn’t my mother.

My mother. I closed my eyes, imagining what she would say when she found out her granddaughter was about to coexist in a tiny apartment with a biker. I would have to do a lot of talking to convince her not to take Emma home with her. I couldn’t risk the two of them being alone at her house. I didn’t trust Eric as far as I could throw him.

I couldn’t worry about Mom until she showed up. Until then, I had a daughter to keep happy, and a biker to entertain.

I giggled at the thought of “entertaining” him. I had a feeling I knew the sort of entertainment he usually got from women. I had a little girl to think about. It was off the table, even though the memory of his kiss was still enough to inspire dirty thoughts.

I glanced into the living room. No Dom. “Sweetie? Where did Dom go?”

“Bathroom,” she said, never taking her eyes from the TV. Sure enough, when I stepped into the hall, the closed door greeted me. I hoped I hadn’t left any feminine hygiene products lying around in there. Just the thought was enough to make me blush a deep, furious red.

I took the chance of knocking on the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Sorry,” I said, stepping back when I heard the irritation in his voice. Maybe he already thought he’d bit off more than he could chew. Maybe he regretted his offer. I chewed my bottom lip, wondering what to do next.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just needed a minute.”

“When you’ve had a minute, can I talk to you? In the kitchen?”

A brief pause. “Sure.”

I went back to dinner duty, setting the little kitchen table. It wasn’t even big enough to include all the food. We’d have to serve ourselves buffet-style, then sit.

When I turned around, there was Dom in the doorway. I put a hand over my heart. “Jesus.” I laughed. “You’re quiet as a ghost.”

“Sorry. What did you wanna talk about?”

I held a finger to my lips, beckoning him to come further into the kitchen, away from the living room. “Listen, I just wanted to say…you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The offer alone means a lot to me. More than I could ever tell you. But I won’t hold you to it.”

He blinked once, twice. “Uh, thanks?”

I waited. “Is that all you have to say?”

“I didn’t think I had to say anything. I mean, I’m trying to do something nice, and you keep telling me I shouldn’t. Why not?”

“Well, you didn’t sound too happy just then.” I jerked a thumb in the direction of the bathroom, next door to the kitchen.

He scowled, his handsome face twisting into an ugly caricature of itself. “I don’t like it when people knock on the door while I’m in the bathroom. I didn’t know that was a crime.”

“It’s not. I just…I don’t know, this is all so much. And really, we never spoke about Eric. What he can do to you.”

“This shit again? We did talk about him. You told me what a big deal he is, how everybody knows him, they’re all in his back pocket. I get it. I’m not afraid of him. Hell, I’ve dealt with a lot worse than him. He’s a coward. Don’t you know that?”

“Yes.” That much I was sure of. I’d known how cowardly my husband was since the first time he hit me. It had all become so clear—the possessiveness, the controlling behavior. Telling me what I looked best in as a way to control the way I dressed. Telling me what a bad influence my friends were to keep me away from them and their all-too-true opinions of him. Keeping me away from other men. Afraid I would leave him for them. On and on. Yes, he was a coward, all right. A coward and a bully.

“I’m not afraid of anything. I wish he would come at me so I could tear him limb from limb. All I need is the excuse to kill him.” His voice was a growl, sending shivers down my spine. The thought of a man going that far for me…

“I wouldn’t want you to do that,” I said, though reluctantly. “Not for his sake, but yours.”

He smirked. “Yeah, I know. And I know he’s still kinda big in your life. Like he’s right there in front of you. You remember all the shit he did. So maybe he seems a little scarier. I don’t give a shit about that. Got it?”

“Got it.” I couldn’t argue with him anymore. I was too tired, and scared, and just plain worn the hell out. I had gone so long without trusting anyone, without believing in happiness, that it was tough for me to accept the help of another person.

“So stop worrying about it and finish cooking my dinner.” He grinned, effectively changing the subject.

I didn’t mind. It was time to talk and think about something better. More positive. I felt so heavy with the weight of my burdens bearing down on me. How refreshing to let go. I realized then that I was starving, too.

“I just have to cook the spaghetti and heat the sauce. Go back and make sure my kid isn’t tearing the place up.” I smiled to myself as he walked away. I could hear the two of them talking in the living room—he asked questions about the show which had just come on. It was nice to hear a man’s voice in the apartment for once. I could almost imagine…

“Stop that,” I whispered, clenching my fists so hard they hurt. I couldn’t let myself go there. It was so tempting, though. What woman in my position wouldn’t want to hear their kid giggling and happy while a man paid attention to her? Who wouldn’t want to feel that they were part of a family unit again, even if it was a bit unusual?

I concentrated on finishing dinner, reminding myself as I did that I didn’t need a man in my life. Not Dom, not anybody. He was good for help, and I appreciated him, but that was as far as it went. I only hoped that Eric went away soon, so life could get back to normal.

***

“I’ve gotta say, these really are the best meatballs in the world.” Dom grinned at Emma, then tried to steal a bite from her plate. She giggled helplessly, pulling the plate out of his reach.

I didn’t say anything, preferring to watch and smile. I didn’t want to break up the moment by speaking. What would his buddies think if they could see him playing with a kid? I remembered the rowdy, harsh-mouthed men at the diner and had the feeling they’d tear him up if they had the slightest clue how quickly Emma had wrapped him around her finger. I wouldn’t have given up his secret for anything.

“They’re my mom’s recipe,” I said, taking another for myself. “She wasn’t the very best cook, but she had her specialties.”

“You mean Grandma?” Emma asked over a mouthful of food.

“Yes, young lady. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

She swallowed. “I don’t like Grandma’s food.”

“She hasn’t gotten much better over the years,” I admitted.

“Her baked beans are gross,” Emma added.

“That’s not nice,” I chided. Then, I looked at Dom and nodded my head slightly. Her baked beans were, indeed, gross.

Dom snorted. “Hey, at least your mom cooked,” he said, shrugging.

“Did your mom cook?” Emma looked at him with big, wide eyes. So innocent. I glanced at Dom, wondering how he would react.

He looked chagrined. “No, she didn’t. She used to take me to the diner a lot, though.”

That got my attention. “The diner? Like, my diner?”

“Yeah. A long time ago. That was a treat, usually on Friday night. Sometimes for breakfast on Sunday. She would, uh, come home and take me for breakfast.”

Emma seemed enchanted by this idea. “Did your mommy work at night like my mommy sometimes does?”

Dom smirked, looking down at his place. “Something like that.”

Then our eyes met, and I felt an intense sympathy for him. It made sense, didn’t it? His mother was never around for him. She probably had a pretty wild life, and he had adopted that lifestyle for himself. Just like doctors and lawyers tended to run in the family. Who would he have become if he’d been born into a different family? I thought back to the way he commanded his friends to be more respectful of me. He wasn’t like Eric, who would have bullied and derided and made a big show of being the hero. Dom only had to tell them to lay off, and they had. He was a leader, respected. He could have been anybody he wanted to be.

Stop it!
I took a sip of iced tea, wishing I could swallow back the thoughts swirling through my head. If I humanized him, it would be that much more difficult to get rid of him when the time came. And the time would come. It had to!

“I think I had enough,” Emma said.

“I should think so, seeing as how you cleaned your plate.” I tickled her, and she giggled again. It was music to my ears. I couldn’t remember the last time she had spent so much time feeling so happy. It was uncanny the way she picked up on the energy around the apartment.
Which is why it’s a good thing you got away from Eric
, I reminded myself. She would easily have picked up on the way he treated me. Who knew how badly it would have affected her?

I washed her up, then patted her bottom to direct her to the living room while I cleaned up. Dom sat back in his chair, looking satisfied.

“You remind me of Henry the Eighth after a binge,” I said, laughing at the way his hands rested on his stomach.

He smirked. “I don’t get food like that all the time,” he said.