From now on, any guy would have to get through him first.
Wolfe refused to analyze the emotions beneath the thought. He pulled the tie from her hair so it was loose, and pushed the unruly waves back from her forehead. “Sleep, sweetheart.”
He turned to leave but her whisper stopped him.
“Will you stay with me? I’m sorry—I’m such a baby, and a mess, but I’m just—scared.”
She blinked furiously, her lower lip trembling. Hell. He didn’t like sleeping with anyone because of the nightmares, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. Not like this.
Wolfe nodded. Toed off his shoes. Then settled himself on top of the quilt and drew her against him. Her scent swamped him, the sweet scent of daisies, and the pureness of soap. Fresh. Clean.
So unlike him.
She wiggled her butt, settled in, and slowly, her muscles relaxed. He tightened his grip around her waist, soaking in the closeness and body heat that simmered like a campfire. Cursing under his breath, he concentrated on his breathing and tried not to get aroused. He’d kissed many women. Slept with even more. Yet the honest passion she gave him during that one kiss would haunt him forever.
But Gen was his friend. His confidant. His everything.
He’d never ruin it with sex.
Sleep came slowly.
THE NOISES WERE BAD tonight.
Vincent increased the volume and wished he had one of those awesome headsets that canceled out noise. The cheap earbuds and used iPod usually did the trick, but the thin door leaked a constant groaning, thrashing, and creaking of furniture. He knew there was more than one out there tonight. The sound of two males, grunting and yelling phrases at his mother like “Suck it, whore” and “Take it this way” rattled his eardrums and made him sick.
But he’d learned his lesson the last time not to show his face. Even if it was for hours.
He should’ve escaped into the woods, but it was damn cold and he hadn’t been prepared. Usually the men came later, but right after school one had been munching on his cereal, checking him out in that familiar way.
His mother had been getting worse. The powder was now replaced with needles. Her eyes turned mad when she craved her fix, and the men seemed to know they could push her harder. He wasn’t sure how long before he might need to run. He had only been able to hide a little over a hundred dollars so far. That wouldn’t get him far. He’d heard terrible stories about foster care from his mother, who always warned him to hide their secret or he’d never see her again.
She had no one else to watch over her. He had to stay. When he got bigger, he’d get them both out, but right now he needed to bide his time.
His skin crawled from the screams. Finally, footsteps came out to the kitchen.
“You said I could get some if I did that,” his mother whined. “I did what you wanted. Give it to me.”
“Greedy bitch. I’ll say when.”
Something crashed against the wall. “The night’s young. We got more to do.”
“Just a little hit. Please.”
Low laughter. “Be a good girl and you’ll get what you need. Where’s that boy of yours?”
“At a friend’s.”
“Is he in that fucking closet again? Let’s get him out to party.”
Vincent’s heart beat wildly but he remained completely still. Fists pounded on the door. The lock rattled but held. “Hey, boy, come out and play. I got some stuff for you.”
“Told you he’s not here. Leave him alone, you have me.”
A few more minutes of harassing, pounding, and threats. Then a clatter of needles hitting the table. “Ticktock, little boy. One day you’re gonna be a man and get your ass out here to help your mother. You hear me, boy?”
His mother said something he couldn’t make out. Then there was blessed quiet as they shot up and went back into the bedroom. The noises started up again.
Vincent concentrated on the music, rocked back and forth, and wished he was dead.
He was eleven years old.
Eleven
GEN SHOT OUT of bed.
The door banged repeatedly in a nonstop rhythm, getting more and more demanding. What if they were reporters? She glanced over at the empty bed. Where was Wolfe? Had he left for the store? What should she do?
Gen hunkered down, crawled to the living room, and peeked out the side window.
Kate, Kennedy, and Arilyn peered back at her.
“Babe, it’s us, let us in!”
She fumbled with the latch, flung open the door, and was engulfed in a tight circle of hugs.
Unfortunately, the numbness and walls she’d built up over the past few days crashed down with a tumble.
She burst into tears.
Gen let herself go, crying and shaking as they moved her to the couch. Kate held her tight, Arilyn patted her knee and whispered soothing words, and Kennedy crashed around the kitchen, cursing like a banshee.
“Asshole prickface! Putting on some type of wimpy show for the reporters to look good! I knew something was up, Gen. I never trusted him. Anyone with teeth that white is trouble.” The bang of a kettle and the rushing of water echoed in the air. “Jumping out the church window was the best damn move you’ve ever made.”
Gen dragged in a tearful breath. “But I left him at the altar. He loved me, and I’m so messed up, I panicked and now everybody hates me and I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Kate gripped her shoulders. Her voice was strong and calmed the rising panic. “Yes, you do. You just didn’t want to face it. It’s time to look at the truth, honey. You didn’t want to marry David. I think you wanted to leave for a long time.”