by Cole, Mila
After years of being away from my home and this life, a part of me didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. I didn’t want the added attention. I didn’t want the over-the-top lifestyle, and I certainly didn’t want to acknowledge this ‘Man’ who symbolized everything in my world that I despised. Not that it was his fault. Poor Mel. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Maybe I could make the extra effort to be nicer.
Maybe.
Five
Slick
I made it through the first week without strangling her. Lighter, I mean. Luckily, she had an easy week. I spent most of my time standing amongst the rest of the staff in the kitchen, making sure she didn’t leave the house without someone. It wasn’t much different than what I did at home on a daily basis—only at home, the child was seven instead of eighteen. But both of them had the female attitude down. It was like comparing apples to apples.
After the first day, when she’d tried to sneak out on me, I found myself more alert to her every move. The last thing I needed was her escaping on my watch. The job wasn’t ideal, but I was making the most of it. I was able to spend a lot of time perusing around the city. Most of the places I took her I’d never been before, what with a being a Camden street rat and all.
“C’mon, Uncle J.” Chloe’s tiny hand was swallowed up inside mine as she tugged me down the sidewalk. We were five hours into moving day, and she was still hyped up like we’d just started. It probably had something to do with the bag of pink cotton candy she’d managed to sneak into her breakfast that morning.
I’d wanted to wait a while before making the move. You know, give myself some time to pack and make all the necessary arrangements, but with my odd hours at work, I had to just suck it up and make use of my Sunday off. Thankfully I had some help. Tony and his son, Knox, came over to lend a hand. Knox was twenty-three and bigger than me. I was sure glad to have them over to help. Plus, they both adored Chloe, and she loved having them around. They were the only other family she had, besides me.
“Gotcha!” Knox jumped out from the side of the building, scooping Chloe in his arms.
She squealed. “Put me down, Clock.”
We all laughed at her. She never called him Knox; it was always Clock. “I gotcha, kid. You’re mine now,” Knox told her as he lifted her up on his shoulders.
Chloe wrapped her tiny little arms around his face, covering his eyes where he couldn’t see. She hated heights and was always scared to death when he put her up on his shoulders. The guy was probably six foot six, maybe even taller. Her tiny cheek rested against his head. She was so damn cute, and likely the only girl that would ever have ownership of my heart. It was hers and only hers. I didn’t know when things had changed between us. Maybe it was when she cried for her momma on my chest. I couldn’t be sure. But that girl was my life, the only thing that mattered.
“Don’t be scared, kid. I got ya,” Knox told her. “You trust me, don’t ya?”
She sighed loud, which was a total chick thing to do. She was starting to make me worry about what was going to happen when she hit those teenage years. I was going to have a full head of gray hair before then. “I don’t know what trust means.”
Knox looked over at me and grinned. “It means you know me, and you know I’d never hurt you. Not ever in a million years,” he told her. It was the truth. He may have tattoos and look like a beefed-up kid from The Outsiders, but just like everyone else in Chloe’s life, he would protect her.
“Oh, then I trust you, Clock.”
“Thanks, kid.”
I followed them up the steps to our apartment. He carried her on his shoulders the whole way, and I thought for a minute that she was rethinking the whole “trust” thing. She held on to him for dear life.
“I can’t believe we moved it all. I didn’t even know we had this much shit,” I grumbled, plopping down on the couch. If I were still living in my pre-Chloe bachelor pad, I wouldn’t have half the crap I did now. When my sister passed, she left me everything in her two-bedroom apartment, including her kid. The only thing I purchased for this move was new beds and mattresses, which we were both in desperate need of.
As soon as Chloe’s feet hit the ground, she took off in a sprint for her room. I was worried about moving her. I didn’t know how she’d adjust to it, but it was premature worry. She was happy with the move, acted like she didn’t have a care in the world, and even loved her new room, which surprised the hell out of me.
“Now you have to unpack.” Tony tapped the toe of his boot with mine.
I groaned and ran my fingers through my hair. It was too damn long and starting to hang low in my eyes. “Don’t remind me, man. I also have to interview three different nannies tonight.”
“You gonna hire a hot, young blonde?” Tony raised his eyebrows.
“No,” I replied quickly but not without a grin. “I gotta be serious about this. I need someone who will stick around, and not just for my dick. I don’t need distractions.” Although, one night of distracting didn’t sound half-bad.
He nodded. “I hear ya, loud and clear.” Standing up from the chair, he reached out his fist. “We got to head out, but I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Did the girl email you her schedule for the week?”
I bumped my knuckles against his. “Yeah. I’ll send everyone a copy in the next hour or so, as soon as I get settled in a bit. It’s light, about like last week, but she said there might be some changes. I’ll let you know. Thanks for all of your help today, and you too, Knox.”
“No problem,” Knox called out. He was already halfway out the door. “Bye, Chloe!” he yelled out.
She yelled back from her bedroom, “Bye, Clock!”
* * *
By Tuesday, things started to feel a lot more settled. I hired the second nanny I interviewed without even meeting the third because Chloe loved her and she was the most flexible with her hours. She didn’t mind being called into work whenever, said she’d been a nanny for the last ten years. I also didn’t have to worry about her hitting on me, since she was widowed and over sixty years old. Lucille was her name, and Chloe called her Lucy, which the old lady seemed to love.
I left them together this morning, and they seemed great. Lucy was making blueberry pancakes, and Chloe barely told me bye.
The elevator opened to the penthouse, and I stepped inside. I was still trying to get used to the stupid-ass dress pants we had to wear. They were loose and airy, which wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that I had to wear shiny black shoes to match. I felt like I belonged in a boardroom next to some suited-up geezers playing with their dirty money. I didn’t feel like someone who was about to bust some heads on the street corner.
Hearing the sound of a clearing throat, I looked up.
“I got a call from my mom this morning, and she has some errands for me to run.” Lighter cleared her throat and stood up. The princess was dressed and wearing that stupid Yankees hat I’d told her never to wear again.
“Change your hat,” I commanded.
Her eyes lifted slowly from the ground. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way they raked over my body. She just couldn’t help herself, the horny brat. When they locked on mine, she shook her head. It was a gentle movement, like she was afraid to stand up to me. Who could blame her? Big, bad, and scary was part of my charming personality.
I narrowed my eyes in a silent standoff. We weren’t leaving this house until she took that ugly-ass hat off her head.
“I don’t have another one, and I can’t go out of the house without something. It’s daylight,” she said in a clipped tone.
She liked to test my patience, but what could I say to that? “Okay,” I relented. “But we’re getting rid of that thing after today.” I’d just bring her one of my Phillies hats from home.
I thought her eyes were going to roll back into her head as she took off around me for the elevator. It was going to be peachy fucking day. I could just feel it.
I sent a quic
k text to Norman, Lighter’s personal driver, to meet us downstairs.
Inside the elevator, she stood in the farthest corner away from me. After a week together, it seemed we had worked out a little routine. I’d bark orders, she’d pout, and we’d go about the rest of our day in silence. Usually by the end of my workday, I’d be ready for the noise of home and the burn of a bourbon on the rocks.
The elevator made a soft ding when we reached the garage level, and the doors opened slowly. As we were stepping out, I could see a man off in the distance. Lighter stopped dead in her tracks when the guy called out her name.
Six
Lighter
“Wait—fuck!”
Fists were flying in the air before I could even take a breath.
“Slick! Stop!” I screamed at him. He had jumped into action before I had the chance to stop him. “Please!” I yelled again. He’d already punched him in the face twice and now had his knee dug into Landon’s back as he towered over his sunken body. It scared me. I’d never seen someone in such a fit of rage. The veins in his neck were thick and bulging.
“Who the fuck are you?” Slick yelled, but all I could hear in return were harsh grunting sounds coming from Landon’s chest.
“Slick! I know him. Get off,” I called out, but he didn’t budge. He pulled Landon’s arm back, causing him to scream out in pain. I could see Slick’s knee digging into his back with more force than before.
With trembling fingers, I reached out and touched Slick’s heavy shoulder, and he froze. It was like I’d burned him. My hand jerked back so fast, you would’ve barely seen it. In the deepest pit of my mind I knew that Slick was tough and scary, but this was the first time I’d saw him like this, so raw and uncut. To say I was petrified was an understatement.
“Please,” I said, pleading with him. “His name is Landon. He’s a friend.” I used the word “friend” loosely.
Slick backed off, pulling Landon to his feet. Poor Landon could barely stand. He shifted his weight to one side, hunching over in pain.
“You know him?” Slick asked me, like I hadn’t just said he was my friend. Jesus!
“Yes.” I nodded. “His name is Landon Franklin. He’s a friend of mine.” I casually left out the word “boy” in front of friend, but it was on purpose.
I expected Slick to apologize to Landon for nearly beating him half to death, but I should’ve known better. The look in his eyes was primal, like a panther. He was ready to chew Landon up. Slick’s shirt was no longer tucked into the waist of his slacks, and his chest moved quickly underneath the thin material of his shirt.
“Get him upstairs,” he said, collecting himself. It wasn’t a request.
I slipped my arm around Landon’s waist and led him to the elevator. His dark brown hair was disheveled, and the sleeve of his shirt was stretched so far that his shoulder was bare. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to him. “I had no idea you were coming over, or I would’ve warned the security team.”
Landon’s face was hard to read. His eyes were dark and distant. For a moment I felt sorry for him, even though I knew better. Sure, Landon was my friend, but he desperately wanted more from me, which was my reasoning behind the avoidance. I didn’t want to do this song and dance anymore. I thought by backing off he’d take the hint and move on. Obviously, I was wrong.
He was silent inside the elevator, still leaning into me. When the door opened to the apartment, I led him into the foyer.
“Mrs. Wright!” I called out to our housekeeper. She scurried in from the kitchen with a broom in her hand.
“Oh dear heavens,” she said at the sight of Landon slumped over. She was an older woman around my dad’s age, a bit thin and very tall. She’d been a housekeeper with us for nearly ten years. Her eyes were wide behind the frame of her glasses as she surveyed the damage.
I helped him sit down on the wide bench, and he winced. “Can you get me an ice pack, the first aid kit, and maybe something for him to take for the pain?”
“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Wright moved quickly.
“I’m all right,” Landon said. It was the first time he’d said anything since he was nearly beaten to a pulp. His dark blue eyes looked up at mine.
Men… Always martyrs.
Rolling my eyes, I said, “No you’re not.” It sounded a bit too harsh, but I was aggravated at the whole situation. Slick clearly didn’t need to jump him, and Landon should’ve called before he just showed up out of the blue.
The elevator door opened again. Slick and Norman came strolling in as if nothing had happened. They looked like they didn’t have a care in the world. Slick’s shirt was tucked back in, and his feet glided effortlessly across the marble floor.
“Miss Derosa.” Mrs. Wright snapped my attention away, her arms loaded down with supplies.
I reached for the kit, placing it on the bench next to Landon.
“Didn’t you say we had some important errands to run for your mother?” Slick asked, reminding me that I had to take a meeting in her place for the Pleasant Home Society. They were a local charitable group who raised a lot of money for children in need. I had to be there.
“Shit!” I rose up to my feet.
Mrs. Wright lightly touched the back of my arm. “Go ahead, dear. I’ll get Mr. Franklin taken care of.”
She was such a sweet lady. She’d only met Landon a couple of times, yet she remembered him. It was always like her to do such caring things for people. She was much like the mother around our home, when my mother was out of town.
“Thank you. Just put him in my bed once he’s patched, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Landon perked up at my words, and I brushed it off. I was only being nice. He wouldn’t dare turn down an invitation to my bed. He never had in the past, so why would he start now?
Glancing up at Slick, he narrowed his dark brown eyes.
I knew that look, or at least I thought I did.
So many times I’d seen a similar look on Landon’s face.
It was jealousy. I could tell by the way his eyes flicked back and forth between Landon and me. It was like he was trying to fit a puzzle together, one that didn’t fit. But he didn’t know that. I wanted to smile, but I was fighting it hard. I couldn’t comprehend the sudden need to explore that avenue, other than the desire for his touch, which would never happen.
That sparked a little fire in the pit of my stomach that I had to rein in at high speeds. Jealousy was just a basic instinct, like fear or anger. It was usually out of your control.
I had no idea what caused the stir of jealousy inside him, but I wanted to say I am woman, hear me roar.
Darting away from him, I walked over to the elevator and reached for the button.
He beat me to it.
“Let’s try this again,” he said calmly.
I never looked back up at him. My face couldn’t be trusted. Instead, I kept my eyes trained to the floor and willed myself to keep my shit together.
He’s an ass, Lighter.
He’s an ass.
Seven
Slick
Behind the tinted windows of the black SUV, Lighter and I were tucked in our usual spots in the back seat. She was quiet, which wasn’t unusual. But the tension was thicker than normal. It was because I’d roughed up the douchebag, but I didn’t give a shit. Part of my job was to act first and think later, especially when it came to her safety. So that’s what I did. It’s what I got paid to do. It’s what I’d always do, and frankly, I loved a challenge.
We pulled to a stop in front of an office building that was about five or six blocks away from the penthouse. It was historic, maybe three stories, and not like the sky-rise fancy places that I was used to seeing on our outings. There was a little white banner hanging above the entrance with the letters P.H.S. on it.
I opened my door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, leaving room for her to slide out behind me.
Before climbing out, she reached over to tap the back of Norman’s seat. �
�An hour at most,” she told him, not once glancing in my direction.
“What is this place?” I asked as we made our way to the door. It wasn’t small talk, just curiosity. Plus, I liked to be informed of all the places we went for precaution.
Her voice was laced with attitude, enough to slay a dragon. “Pleasant Home Society,” she responded flatly, her feet still pounding the pavement in front of her. “My mom is a board member, and I’m here in her place.”
The tension in my neck made me roll my shoulders. My muscles were tight, and I was still on an adrenaline high from pummeling prissy boy to the ground. Her attitude was bugging me though. She was acting like the entitled princess again, all because I gave her little boyfriend a couple of love taps. If I wanted to, I could’ve crushed him with my bare hands. Hell, if anything, I went easy on him.
I nodded and held the door open for her. She hadn’t even looked in my direction since we’d left her place. Not that it mattered, but I wasn’t going to spend the rest of the day with her stomping off upset everywhere we went. The silence was easy. The temper tantrums pissed me off.
“When you’re finished here, we will talk about what happened earlier.” My voice was demanding. I wasn’t asking. I was telling. If I’d learned anything at all over the last week, it was to be firm with her.
Her walk slowed, and just before she opened the glass door to what appeared to be a conference room she said, “Fine,” my favorite fucking word.
God dammit.
She was doing her best to get under my skin, and it was working. Boy was it working. I was so frustrated, I could pull my hair out. All the drama and childish shit was the reason I never kept a woman longer than a night. I didn’t want to put up with it. If I weren’t being paid so damn good, I would’ve told the princess where to shove it a long time ago. I swear it felt like I was being punished. Like the purpose of this job, and the fact that I was raising a girl instead of a boy, was to get back at me for all the one-night stands.
