Every Kiss You Steal: A Redeeming Love Novel (Book 7)

by Parker, J. E.

  Only, it never came.

  Instead, a strong hand found my arm, stopping my fall in its tracks.

  Heart pounding, I gasped when the owner of said hand pulled me up, helping me find my footing.

  Steady once more, I looked up, finding the person who'd saved me from cracking my head wide open.

  When his electric blue eyes, the prettiest I'd ever seen, met mine for the first time, I nearly forgot how to breathe.

  Not even kidding.

  Taking in his above average height, muscular frame, short, blond hair, and angular jaw, I may have squirmed a little.

  Though I wasn't interested in boys, not in the least, even I could appreciate how cute he was.

  And Lord, he was cute.

  If I had been a normal girl—

  "You alright?" he asked, his deep voice silky smooth and just as beautiful as the rest of him.

  "Oh good God, of course, she's alright," the girl from before snarled, ugliness bleeding into her tone. "She didn't even hit the floor."

  Embarrassment swamped me.

  Chin wobbling, I jerked my arm free from his hold, my skin burning from the small amount of contact.

  The guy whose name I didn't know, looked confused at the move.

  Getting over it, he glared at the girl, whose name I also didn't know. "What the hell is the matter with you, Bianca?"

  Bianca.

  The name fit her well.

  It sounded just as bitchy as she seemed.

  "She was sitting at our table, Chase!"

  "So, what," he fired back, his eyes narrowed. "You think that gives you the right to talk to her like a dog, and then trip her when she tries to leave?"

  Realization struck.

  The witch had tripped me.

  On purpose.

  Anger seeped in.

  At that moment, I so wished I'd possessed the lady-balls to turn around and smack the meanness right out of her, something Carmen would've done without hesitation.

  Shelby too.

  Unfortunately, I wasn't ballsy or brave like them.

  Where they didn't take crap from anyone, I might as well have been a doormat.

  Well, except for that time I stabbed Ellington.

  Don't think about that now!

  Not wanting anyone to witness the meltdown I knew was impending, I stepped away from Chase—I love his name—and toward the back door.

  The small move drew his attention.

  Eyes back on me, he licked his lower lip, making my belly flip. "Let me go grab you another tray," he said, holding out his big hand. "Then, you can come sit at my table."

  "What!" Bianca, screeched, clearly upset.

  Ignoring her, Chase moved closer, erasing the step back I'd taken moments before. "Come on, Ashley," he continued, urging me to slip my hand into his. "You've gotta eat, beautiful."

  My lips parted, shock gripping me.

  I wasn't surprised that he knew my name since I'd been the focus of the Toluca High grapevine all morning, but what did surprise me, nearly to death, was being called beautiful.

  I wasn't beautiful.

  My skin was scarred, my soul stained with filth. There was nothing, and I mean nothing, beautiful about me.

  "You don't even know me," I whispered, my hackles rising.

  His brow furrowed. "I realize that," he replied, dropping his hand. "But that's something I plan on changing."

  Heaven help me, the boy was obviously nuts, and given my history with crazy males, I needed to put as much space as possible between us.

  Even if a tiny part of me didn't want to.

  Shaking my head, I slipped my thumbs under my backpack straps and clutched them tightly. "Don't waste your time," I said, preparing to bolt. "Trust me, I'm not worth it."

  Losing the fight to keep my tears at bay, I turned and took off, bursting through the exit.

  Once outside, I ran for cover.

  Chapter Nine

  Chase

  My chest hurt.

  Quite fucking literally.

  Holding a lunch tray in each of my hands, I pushed through the same exit Ashley had disappeared through minutes earlier, searching for her.

  Where she'd gone, I didn't have a clue.

  But I was damn sure going to find out.

  Going on a hunch, I followed the sidewalk that led to the football field, a route I'd taken many times before.

  Madder than I'd been in a long time, my hands shook. Hard as I tried, I couldn't get the look on Ashley's face as Bianca spewed her venom all over her out of my head.

  She'd looked broken.

  Completely defeated.

  I couldn't stand it.

  Whether or not I knew her yet, seeing tears fill her gorgeous eyes was worse than a well-aimed foot to the balls.

  It made my insides hurt, which was a first for me.

  Don’t get me wrong, I wasn't an emotionless dick, but I'd never reacted to someone else's suffering on a visceral level the way I had hers.

  The only time I'd ever come close to channeling another's pain like that was when my old man, the drunk bastard that he was, used to beat my brother to a bloody pulp whenever he felt like it.

  But despite the similarities between that situation and this one, they were still different.

  With the torment I'd witnessed Ty endure, regret was the emotion that took center stage in both my head and chest. How could it not when the lone reason he took those beatings to begin with was to keep me safe? Screwed up as it was, as long as our father's rage was focused on him, it was never on me.

  But with Ashley and the shit I'd just watched go down, all I felt was anger.

  A helluva lot of it.

  I'd never hit a woman in my life, and I'd throw down with any man that did, but if Bianca had been a dude, she would've been leaving school in a lot worse shape than she’d arrived.

  No joke.

  Like the moment I first saw her picture, the magnetic pull I felt toward Ashley didn't make a damn bit of sense, and after spending over half the previous night trying to rationalize why I'd reacted so strongly to nothing more than a wallet-sized photo, the only thing I could deduce from the situation was that something inside me wanted to protect her, just as my big brother had always protected me.

  Or at least tried to protect me.

  But it didn't matter.

  My feelings were my own.

  And that was the end of it.

  Nearing the ticket booth that preceded the stadium, the sound of Ashley's soft whimpers reached my ears. I picked up my pace once I figured out exactly where the sound was coming from.

  Behind the booth, next to the woods.

  Barely holding it together, I rounded the corner of the small building. Once I spotted her, looking just as beautifully broken as before, I came to an abrupt stop.

  Back resting against the side of the building, she sat cross-legged, her purple backpack on her lap. Hugging it tight, her face was puffy and streaked with tears, her petite frame trembling.

  She was falling apart.

  And I hated it.

  A hollow ache was made its presence known in my chest, and I squeezed the Styrofoam trays tight, ignoring the way they creaked under my unrelenting grip. I wanted nothing more than to drop them to the ground and go to her, then scoop her up in my arms and hold her tight until every last tear she cried stopped.

  But knowing I couldn't do that—not without freaking her the hell out—I cleared my throat and said, "Ashley, please don't cry." Startled by the sound of my voice, she snapped her head up, her terrified eyes locking with my anger-filled ones. "It tears me up to see you like that."

  Unable to keep my distance, I moved closer, the need to make her feel better choking the hell outta me.

  My steps faltered when her back straightened, and she slipped her hand into the small purse next to her. Without taking her eyes off me, she pulled out a simple key chain, which a small Taser dangled from.

  Oh shit...

  Extending my arms,
I lifted the trays and took a single step back. "I'm not going to hurt you," I said, hoping she'd believe me. "I was just bringing you something to eat because I don't like the thought of you not having lunch." I forced a shaky smile. "So don't tase my ass, please."

  Silence.

  "I wasn't going to tase your butt," she replied, wiping away her tears with the backs of her hands. "But, I was planning on jamming it in your…" She waved the weapon, one which I was pretty sure was illegal, in the air, searching for the right words. "Ya know, your privates."

  Surprised laughter erupted from my throat. "You're feisty," I said, the smile I wore no longer forced. "I like it." Keeping a reasonable distance from her, I sat down to her left, placing the trays on the concrete stretching between us. "I wasn't sure what you’d prefer," I told her, "so I got a bit of everything."

  "Why are you doing this?" Her suspicion-filled eyes slid from me to the food, then back to me again. "I don't get it."

  For a moment, I considered telling her that Grandmama had asked me to keep an eye on her, but that wasn't the reason.

  It may have been why I originally agreed to watch out for her, but the second I glimpsed her wounded brown eyes in that damn photo, everything changed. But not wanting to tell her that—I wasn't completely stupid—I went with, "You look like you could use a friend."

  It was a crap answer, and one she'd likely call bullshit on, but it was the truth all the same.

  Plus I could use a friend too.

  Yeah, I hung out with my teammates occasionally, but I wasn't close to any of them. Not really. The only reason most of them wanted anything to do with me in the first place was because of who I was.

  Chase Jacobs, All-American star quarterback.

  Besides, letting people in wasn't something I did, not when I'd seen first-hand the destruction and pain others could cause.

  Thanks for that lesson, Dad.

  "I don't need any new friends," she whispered, her voice lined with a whole lotta hurt. "Especially not those of the male variety."

  Her words stung.

  A helluva lot.

  But that same sting disappeared when I recalled Grandmama's words from the night before. Though the Crazy Old Biddy hadn't elaborated on what Ashley had been through, her reaction to my presence gave me a clue of what it could be.

  Dollars to donuts, she'd been burned.

  Most likely by someone possessing a dick.

  Angry didn’t begin to describe how I felt.

  Clearing my throat, I bent my legs and leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. "Did some asshole hurt you?" She stilled at my question. "Because if he did, I'd be more than happy to cave his face in."

  My words were irrational yet true.

  I was supposed to be keeping my head down and staying out of trouble, but if some jackass had hurt her, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, I'd have no problem throwing him a beating he’d never forget.

  Fuck the consequences.

  "You seem awfully angry." Still clutching the Taser, she nibbled on her bottom lip, making me want to do the same. What the hell is this girl doing to me? "Is that normal for you?"

  I chuckled. "Admittedly so."

  My half-joking answer made her more anxious, which wasn't my intent.

  I'd only wanted to see her smile.

  Did I mention that I was an idiot?

  Because obviously, I was.

  Climbing to her knees, she swung her backpack behind her, slipping it on. "Thanks for bringing me food. It was really nice of you," she said, her entire body quaking. "But, I should go."

  She climbed to her feet, her movements quick, but before she had the chance to walk away, I jumped up, blocking her escape, and reached for her. "Ashley, wait—"

  My words died on my lips when, in a move I'd seen performed by a younger Ty many times, she flinched and then lifted her slender arms, shielding her face.

  She thinks I'm going to hit her.

  The realization was like a sledgehammer to the gut. Swift and hard-hitting, it nearly made me crumble. Barely able to breathe, I grew even more pissed.

  And that was saying something.

  Blood boiling, I shoved my hands in my pockets and stumbled back. "I'm not going to hit you," I said, fighting to keep the fury currently working its way through my system out of my voice. "I will never hit you."

  Trembling with fear, she wrapped her arms around her belly, seemingly holding herself together. Tear after tear spilled from her eyes, shredding my heart. "Yeah," she said, her soft cries turning to sobs. "That's what he said too."

  I'd known—I'd damn well known—that a guy had done something to her, but hearing her confirm it made my hands twitch with the need to punch something.

  Hard.

  Without another word, she darted past me.

  Consumed with rage, I stepped around the corner of the ticket booth and watched her run full-bore back toward the school. Frozen in place, I simply stared as she moved further and further away, despite every cell in my body screaming at me to give chase.

  Mind reeling with mental images I didn't want to see, ones which involved her being hurt by some faceless douchebag, I turned, ready to slam my fist into the fucking wall.

  But I stopped, my eyes narrowing, when I caught sight of something laying on the ground next to where Ashley had been sitting.

  It was her purse.

  Walking over, I picked it up.

  I didn't know a damn thing about a woman's purse, but hers was small, the fabric it was made of soft. Her perfume, which was as sweet as sugar, lingered on the cotton-like material, making my chest burn.

  Without thinking about what I was doing, I lifted it to my nose and inhaled, pulling her scent deep into my lungs.

  "Fuck me," I muttered. "Seems I've got no choice but to go after her." I paused, mulling over what I would say once I caught up to her. "Let's just hope my dumbass can avoid scaring her this time."

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, I turned.

  Then, I went on the hunt.

  Chapter Ten

  Ashley

  Just keep moving...

  Still crying, I burst through the front door of the Toluca Police Department and came to a sliding stop in the middle of the empty lobby.

  At the sound of my not-so-graceful entrance, the older desk sergeant, whose name I couldn’t remember, snapped his head up, his wide eyes finding me from where he sat. “Miss Moretti,” he said, face paling. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head because, no, I wasn’t okay.

  Not by a long shot.

  Wrapping my arms around my middle, I shifted my weight between my feet, practically bouncing from one leg to the other, all the while looking around the desolate lobby, my panicked eyes searching for one of the half-dozen crooked cops I’d met thanks to Dominic.

  If I encountered any of them…

  Well, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  Thankfully, it was a problem I hadn’t been forced to deal with. Not yet.

  I wasn’t sure if it was because they worked at a different precinct or what, but I prayed I wouldn’t see any of them, plus a certain District Attorney, ever again. Not only would coming face-to-face with them send me spiraling once more, I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to hide my reaction from Anthony.

  God knows if he, a strait-laced detective, ever discovered the multitude of favors they’d all done for el diablo before his arrest and subsequent prison sentence, he’d flip. Even more so when he learned more than one had harmed me in the vilest of ways.

  With my luck, he’d kill them.

  That’s if Shelby didn’t do it first.

  Which she likely would.

  But even if I wanted to see every dirty cop, along with Ellington brought to justice, I couldn’t allow my parents to be involved.

  Not when, for the first time in my life, I had a mother and father, both of whom loved me and my little brother with everything they had. Losing either of them to the penal system wasn’t a risk
I was willing to take.

  I’d suffer in silence for eternity if it meant keeping my family intact. After all, the secrets I already harbored were vast, the memories that haunted me unending. If anyone could keep their lips sealed, it was me.

  Across the lobby, the desk sergeant stood and opened his mouth to speak, but I cut in, not giving him a chance to utter a single word. “Is Anthony—” I clamped my lips shut and pulled in a breath. “I mean, is my Dad here?”

  He nodded. “Let me buzz him—”

  Refusing to waste another second, I was moving before he could finish his sentence.

  Pushing through the door that connected the lobby to the back half of the building, I hoofed it down the hall that led to his corner office. When I was ten steps away from his door, he stepped into the hall, a stack of papers clenched in his left hand.

  I stopped in my tracks when he looked up, his grey eyes locking on me. “Ashley...”

  My chin trembled, the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since I left school continuing to slide down my cheeks, making my distress obvious. “I tried,” I cried, my shoulders trembling. “I swear I did, but—”

  I snapped my mouth shut when he moved toward me, his long legs eating up the space between us. Reaching me, he twined his strong arms around my back and pulled me into him. Nose pressed to the crown of my head, he held me tight, pouring both his strength and warmth into my heart and soul.

  I nearly collapsed in relief.

  Because there, at that moment, tucked in his arms, I felt safe, something that I’d never experienced until he and Shelby came along.

  “It’s okay, Principessa,” he whispered, his New York accent thick with emotion. It was such a stark contrast to Shelby’s southern accent, along with my Appalachian one, that I couldn’t help but laugh at times. “From this day on, we’ll take this slow, sweetheart. One step at a time, yeah?”

  I leaned further into him, letting his body take my weight, and fisted the front of his shirt in my shaking hands. “You’re not disappointed?”

  It was such a loaded question considering I already knew the answer. Still, it was one I couldn’t help but ask. I needed to hear him say the words. As a girl who’d spent her entire life having conditions placed on what others pretended was love, I needed that reassurance.