He knew it too.
Unwinding his arms, he slipped a finger under my chin and tilted my head back, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Ashley Jo Moretti, you listen to every damn word I’m about to say.” His words were harsh, but his tone wasn’t. “I may be disappointed in some of the decisions you make in the future, but never in you.”
Sliding his thumbs across my cheeks, he wiped away my tears.
“You promise?” I asked, my insides calming.
“I swear it.”
“Good, because—”
I jumped in place when the door at the end of the hall, the one I’d come through minutes before, burst open and slammed into the wall.
I didn’t have time to spin around and see who had made such a ruckus before the familiar sound of cowgirl boots clicking against the floor echoed through the building, bouncing off each of the walls.
A smile tipped my lips as I turned, coming face to face with my mother, followed by Felix, who was carrying a cat in his arms.
My eyes bulged.
Why in the world did he have a cat?
In a police station no less?
“I only have two questions,” she hollered, pulling my attention from the content looking feline. “One, whose rear-end am I kicking, and two, how hard am I kicking it?”
“Sunshine,” Anthony said to her. “Calm down.”
“Calm down my ass,” she fired back as Anthony raised his hands in surrender. He knew that once Shelby got like this, it was just best to let her run out of steam and not interject.
Coming to a stop right in front of me, she palmed my cheeks, raking her gaze over me from head to toe, no doubt searching for any injuries.
“Hendrix called the shelter in a panic and said he saw you running down the sidewalk, all upset.” Her eye twitched. “So he jumped in the truck and followed you until you got here. Now”—she exhaled, her nostrils flaring—“I want you to tell me who upset you so I can shove my size nine boot up their soon-to-be-sore-as-all-get-out behind.”
She quirked an expectant brow, and the words tumbled out of me, one after the other before I could stop them. “Uh, well, to start, a bitchy girl named Bianca tripped me at lunch.” I paused, knowing Anthony would likely have a stroke over what came next. “But, I didn’t actually fall because a boy caught me.”
“A boy?” he growled. “What boy?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Chase.”
“Chase who? I need a last name.”
I raised my hands, palms toward the ceiling. “I don’t know his last name,” I replied, answering him. “All I know is that he kept me from face-planting in the middle of the cafeteria, and then after I ran out of the building like an idiot, he brought me a new lunch tray, because, according to him, he didn’t want me to go without lunch.”
I paused, regret washed over me.
I’d been so rude to him.
Even if I wasn’t comfortable around people I didn’t know—anger-prone men in particular—there was no reason for me to behave the way I had. For heaven’s sake, he’d brought me lunch, and I’d run away from him like he was Freddy frickin’ Kruger.
Despite my issues, that wasn’t okay.
And to make matters worse, he probably thought I was completely nuts now, especially after I flinched, proving that I was terrified of his mere presence.
Lovely.
“Crap,” I whispered, fiddling with the straps of my backpack. “I can’t even remember if I told him thank you before I took off.” I hoped I had. “Now I feel bad.”
Shelby’s eyes narrowed. “Why’d you run off?”
I fidgeted in place. “He scared me.”
Anthony sucked in a breath, and I felt rather than saw his mood shift. He wasn’t angry per se, but he was on edge. “How, Principessa?” he asked, his voice tight. “How did he scare you?”
I blinked, fighting to stop the tears that still fell. I was so sick of crying all the time. “Because when I told him I didn’t want any new friends, particularly male ones, he asked if a guy had hurt me in the past.” Until then, I hadn’t realized how transparent I was. I didn’t like it. Not one iota. “I didn’t answer him, but he still offered to beat up said guy anyway.”
Shelby smirked.
But Anthony?
He still wasn’t happy.
It made me smile.
His overprotectiveness was such a dumb thing for me to be joyful about, but it made me feel like a normal teenage girl, particularly one who hadn’t lived through hell and survived the devil himself.
“Is that all he did?”
I shook my head. “He seemed so mad that I asked him if being angry was a normal thing for him.” Why had I asked such a question? It was none of my business. “When he said yes, I freaked.”
“Ashley, honey, listen to me,” Shelby said. “It’s not okay for people to be angry all the time, but just because someone is upset, it doesn’t mean they are going to hurt you. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’d much rather you be cautious than reckless with that sort of thing, but—”
“It’s all in my head, I know,” I replied, cutting her off. “Trust me, I’m tired of being scared day in and day out. It’s exhausting to think everyone is out to harm me, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t silence the voice that compares everyone I meet now to the people from my past.”
It was an issue that I was working on with my therapist. She’d assured me that my distrust of others would get better with time, but I wasn’t so sure. It was such a negative thing to think about, but I sometimes wondered if I was too broken to fix.
Deep down, I knew I probably was.
“That’s just the PTSD talking, sweet pea,” Shelby said. “I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t listen to the harsh words your mind speaks. Else you’ll keep swimming in blackness instead of climbing out of it.”
She was right.
I knew that.
Exhaling, I nodded. “I’ll try. Promise.”
She kissed my forehead before pulling me in for a hug. Holding me tight, she ran her fingers through my hair. The light caress was both calming and comforting. “One day at a time, baby,” she whispered, rocking me side-to-side. “We’re just gonna take it one day at a time.”
“That’s what I told her,” Anthony replied. “Not that anybody ever listens to me.”
I smiled at his teasing tone.
Shelby, though, she scoffed. “Well, if you weren’t wrong all the dang time, then maybe I’d listen more.”
“Sunshine,” he shot back. “Don’t start.”
Stepping back, Shelby glared up at the stubborn man who’d chosen to be my father, not out of duty, but out of desire. Hand on her hip, she arched a brow in a direct challenge. “And what if I do?”
Anthony chuckled. “You know what’ll happen.”
Unable to stop myself, I gagged. “Oh gross,” I said, side-stepping them both. “I don’t want to hear that.” Hands over my ears, I glanced from one to the other. “I’m already traumatized enough. Do you want me to need more therapy?”
Shelby tossed her head back and laughed.
Hard.
Anthony, though...
Redness bloomed on his olive-toned cheeks, making his embarrassment—something I rarely saw from him—known. “Christ, Principessa, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just—”
“I know,” I said, interrupting him. Smiling from ear-to-ear, I shrugged. “I just enjoy giving you crap every once in a while. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re just like your mother.”
If possible, my smile grew even wider. “Good.”
Shelby leaned to the side and bumped my shoulder with hers. “Smart answer.” She winked. “Now, are you ready to head home? Because I say we blow this joint and go pick up a pizza or two.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Don’t you have to work?”
She shook her head. “I already told Maddie I wouldn’t be back. Her and Hope have it cov
ered.” Looking over at Anthony, she placed a hand on his broad chest. “What about you, Stud Muffin? Think you can take the rest of the day off and spend some time with your girls?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”
At his answer, the weight of the day began to lift from my shoulders. Blowing out a pent-up breath, I shot him and Shelby both a smile before moving toward Felix, who, up to that point, had been leaning against the far wall, his attention focused on the cat in his arms.
“Uncle Fe-fe,” I said, standing in front of him. “Who’s your friend?”
One side of his mouth tipped heavenward. “This here is my little buddy,” he replied proudly, running his aged fingers through the long-haired tabby’s fur. The perfect mixture of black, grey, and beige, he was beautiful. I hadn’t even petted him yet, but I loved him already. “Found him behind the shelter this morning. Don’t know if someone dumped him or if he got lost somehow, but I’m fairly sure he’s blind. Poor fella kept walking into the fence.”
That made my heart hurt a little.
“Are you keeping him?”
His eyes found Shelby, then Anthony. “I’d like to, but only if your Mama and Papa—”
“You’re keeping him,” Shelby interjected. “He needs a home, and what better place than with you?”
Felix’s eyes twinkled, filling with unshed tears.
Nodding, he swallowed and hugged the cat close. “Thank you, Shelby. I promise I’ll clean up after him.”
I swear my heart swelled, nearly to the point of bursting.
Like me, Felix had issues, and I could already tell the cat, sweet as he seemed, would bring him immeasurable comfort, which made me happy as could be.
“What are you going to name him?” I asked, readjusting my backpack.
Felix took a breath, his fingers tracing invisible lines down the kitty’s back. “The moment I saw him, he made my old heart feel a whole lot better,” he whispered. “So I’m going to name him Angel, ’cause to me, that’s what he is.”
“Shit,” Shelby hissed. “Now, I’m gonna cry.”
I was right there with her.
“Carbs,” she continued, shaking out her hands. “I need carbs to deal with this kind of emotion.” Huffing out a breath, she pointed toward the hallway door. “Let’s move, people. I need pizza and breadsticks. Like, right the hell now.”
I laughed, tears of joy rolling down my cheeks. “Can we pick up Lucca first?”
“Well, duh,” she replied. “If we don’t, he may burn the house down once he gets home and realizes we had pizza without him.”
That was true.
I loved my little brother with every broken piece of me, but he was a nut. Then again, all it took was one look at our mother to see where he got it from.
Apparently, crazy is genetic.
The sound of Anthony shutting his office door grabbed my attention, pulling me from my thoughts. Keys in hand, he nodded toward the end of the hall. “Alright you three, let’s head out.”
Together, we all started to move.
Walking next to Shelby, I bumped into her shoulder with mine, just like she’d done to me minutes before. “Since Felix has a cat now, can Lucca and I have a dog?”
Her eyes bulged. “What kind of dog?”
“I want a husky. Preferably a white one with blue eyes.”
“Yeah?” Anthony asked from behind us. “And what would you name it?”
My answer was immediate. “If it was a boy, Ziggy Bear.”
“I like Ziggy Bear,” Shelby replied, sniffling.
“Me too,” Anthony agreed. “But where am I supposed to find a white Husky?”
Shelby shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
She was right.
Anthony would figure it out.
And when that day came, it would be one of the best of my life.
Chapter Eleven
Chase
5839 Magnolia Street.
Holding Ashley’s purse in my hand, I stood next to my parked Jeep, staring up at the blue two-story house across the street. With a white wraparound porch, perfectly manicured lawn, and bright blooming flowers planted everywhere, it was nice. But its beauty didn’t compare to the girl who lived inside.
A girl who, after spending less than five minutes in her presence, hadn’t left my mind.
Because of that reason alone, I’d hunted Grandmama down the moment the final bell rang. After finding her perched in a salon chair at a beauty parlor down the street from the school, I’d persuaded her to give me Ashley’s address, something that sure as shit wasn’t easy.
Not only did I have to take off my shirt and flex for her and the rest of the old birds occupying the remaining chairs, but she’d also forced me into agreeing to clean her gutters the following weekend.
Being gawked at by a bunch of crazy old women wasn’t something I enjoyed, nor was home maintenance, but I would’ve done a whole lot more to find out where Ashley lived.
Sure, I could have checked her purse for the info, but I wasn’t going to invade her privacy. Doing so would’ve been a douche move, and though I was a lot of things, that wasn’t one.
And yeah, I could’ve waited until the following day and found her at school, but I wasn’t in the business of denying myself the things I wanted. And let’s be real here... I wanted to see Ashley Moretti again.
More than I wanted to take my next breath.
After she’d bolted during lunch, I’d searched everywhere for her, but she’d vanished, completely disappeared. I didn’t know if it was because she’d dipped and left school early or what, but I was about to come out of my skin.
Between my inexplicable desire to have her near and the driving need to make sure she was okay, I was a second away from losing my mind. All afternoon I’d mulled over the way she’d reacted to me, and hard as I tried, I couldn’t get the sight of her shielding her face when I came too close out of my head.
Seeing her do that...
It had broken something inside me.
No woman deserved to be abused. That was a gospel fact, but knowing that she’d been hurt at the hands of another only made me more determined to keep her safe.
From that moment on.
Frustrated as hell and unable to stand being so close, yet so far away from her a second longer, I started across the quiet neighborhood street. When a blaring horn sounded to my left, I immediately jumped back, removing myself from the path of an approaching—albeit slow as hell—Cadillac.
My eyes narrowed when the car came to a rolling stop in front of me, and I got a good look at the old woman seated behind the wheel.
Placing my arms on the open passenger window, I popped my head in the vehicle. “Grandmama, what the hell? You following me now?”
Rolling her eyes, she waved a dismissive hand my way. “I only follow men who are old enough to take me out dancing and drinking. You ain’t but eighteen, which means I can admire your drool-worthy tush, but I ain’t wasting gas on chasing you around town. Dadgum stuff ain’t cheap. Anyway”—she waved her hand once more—“I see you found the place alright.”
“I did, but what are you doing here?”
She quirked a brow and pointed to the yellow house behind me, the one I’d parked directly in front of. “That’s my house.”
Well, shit...
I didn’t know that.
Then again, why would I?
“Are you sure?” I asked, glancing at the immaculate house over my shoulder. “’Cause I would’ve bet you’d have a couple of dick-shaped water fountains out front.”
Eyes narrowed, she pointed a wrinkled finger my way. “One, I don’t like that type of language. It’s called a tallywacker, ya big dummy. Two, you ain’t looked in the backyard yet now have you?” She cackled, and I couldn’t decide whether she was screwing with me or not.
Knowing Grandmama...
“Well,” she said, between bouts of laughter. “Guess I better skedaddle since the ch
icken I’ve got marinating ain’t gonna fry itself, and I’ve got company coming.” Dipping her head, she glared at me over the top of her glasses. “Make sure you get my grandbaby’s purse back to her. And no funny business. You so much as make a single move, and I’ll shoot your balls slap off and turn em’ into Christmas tree ornaments. You understand me?”
For Christ’s sake, she was batshit crazy.
Jaw ticking, I fisted my hands, my temper sparking. “If you’re worried about me taking advantage of Ashley, you don’t need to be,” I replied. “I’d rather play chicken in rush-hour traffic.”
“Thatta boy,” she said, smiling. “You may not have the sense God gave a goose, but at least you ain’t completely dumb.”
“That’s one helluva compliment if I ever heard it.” Shaking my head, I took a step back and stood tall. Tapping my knuckles against the roof of the car, I tossed Grandmama a wink. “See you later, Crazy Old Biddy.”
“See you Saturday, Hoodlum.” She looked back out the windshield. “You best be remembering what I said. I know you’ve got a tendency to get more confused than a fart in a fan factory, but I mean it—keep your dang hands to yourself. Else I’ll be the proud new owner of your balls. Got it?”
I cringed. “I got it.”
With a final nod, she stomped on the gas and spun into her driveway, then slammed on the brakes inches away from her garage door, nearly crashing through the damn thing. She climbed out and hobbled up the sidewalk, her giant purse swamping her aged frame.
When she saw me watching her every move, she placed her hands on her rounded hips and glared. “What?” she asked, her eighty-year-old sass on full display. “I was just checking to make sure the dad-blasted brakes worked!”
Sure she was.
Ignoring her special brand of crazy, I turned, my eyes once again locking on Ashley’s house. “Alright, shithead,” I mumbled to myself, heart in my throat. “Whatever you do, don’t fuck this up.”
Then, without hesitating, I crossed the street.
Every Kiss You Steal: A Redeeming Love Novel (Book 7) Page 9
