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Luca lets out a humourless laugh. “They called me when they couldn’t get hold of you. Her little blonde friend made a whole fuss, telling them they needed to call you.” He looks at me a little disappointed, more aggravated and Casimira folds her lips between her teeth. Luca gives me a tired look, glancing back at Casimira. “Okay, I’m done babysitting. Get the fuck outta my car.”
I stand up and give her a hand out of the car before Luca revs the engine and speeds out of the alleyway, narrowly avoiding the trash cans.
She shifts on her feet. “I’m so sorry. I swear, I told them not to call you. I think Hannah thought I was in trouble and she thought you could help.” She rushes out.
“Don’t apologise, I would have wanted you to call me.” I tuck some hair behind her ear. “What happened?”
She does this small apologetic smile and shuffles back from me almost instinctively like she’s anxious of me. “We literally only went out for a few hours. Hannah was drinking, I was driving so I didn't drink anything.” She says it defensively like I'm going to get angry and she's expecting an argument.
I frown at her. “I don’t give a fuck about that.” She visibly relaxes. Her reaction makes me wonder what her ex was like. I shove that thought away quicker than it came in because the image of her being touched by a man who isn't me has me feeling especially murderous.
“We were in the bar and there was a couple at the table next to us, they were arguing. Apparently, he went on her phone and found texts from some other guy. I'm not sure.” She rolls her eyes, waving her hand haphazardly. “Anyway he starts screaming at her and she's curling in on herself like she's about to start crying. Nobody stepped in so I was just about to stand up and tell him to calm down when he backhanded her. She wasn't even shocked, like he's done it before.” Her face turns cold, similar to the time she punched that guy for grabbing her. “Anyway, I couldn’t stop myself, I just launched myself at him.” A laugh bursts out of me and she smiles too before my eyes snag on her hand and her knuckles are red and swollen.
I take her hand in mine lightly brushing my thumb over the knuckles. “Did he touch you?” My voice lowers a few octaves.
“No, he kept going for his girlfriend. I’m not even sure what happened next, but people were pulling me off him, then the police arrived and I was shoved in the back of the car.” This girl is wild and I don't understand why I like it so much.
“Do you want me to take care of him?”
She laughs and when I don’t join in her face falls. “You’re not joking are you?” She asks with a hint of worry.
I shake my head pulling her towards me and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Anyone so much as looks at you wrong and I’ll bury them alive.” Her eyes soften and she stares at me in silence. I hold her chin between my fingers tilting her face up to mine. “Who did you deal with at the precinct? Did they put you in cuffs?”
Her eyes flit over my face like she’s trying to find a sign that I’m not being serious. She swallows heavy. “They did at first but I’m guessing after Hannah told them to call you they took me out of the cell and sat me at a desk, got me a drink and everything.” She laughs distractedly, eyes still fixed on mine looking for something.
“Good.” I breathe.
I wrap another arm around her shoulders and bury my face in her neck. She's okay. The scent of her perfume fills my senses and it comforts me. Her hand strokes the back of my head, her nails lightly scratching over the short hair making me shiver.
“Were you being serious?” She asks quietly against my shoulder.
I pull back only so she can see how fucking serious I am. “I would never joke about that, if anyone ever hurts you I’ll, I’ll.-“ I stop because I don’t even want to think about her hurt, it’s making my chest tight and my blood heat.
Her lips pull up and she starts to grin at me, easing the tightness in my chest. She flicks my nose with her finger, moving her face closer. “You like like me.” She says smugly and I cock a brow. She presses a quick kiss to my cheek and shrugs. “It’s okay. I like like you too.”
I snort a laugh and dip my head down. “Trouble,” I whisper and she winks. I pull her hand towards my car and open the door for her to slide in.
“You don’t have anything else to do?” She asks as I get behind the wheel.
I shake my head as I reach over and take her bruised hand pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. “Don't do that again,” I tell her calmly. She wasn't hurt this time but that doesn't mean she won't get hurt the next time. I'm not sure what I'd do if someone put hands on her. No amount of blood would be enough.
Her posture goes stiff in her seat. “Domestic abuse is a touchy subject for me, I can't just watch. Nobody was even trying to do anything.”
I cup the back of her head and bring her closer so she’s looking at me. “I don't want you getting hurt.” Her eyes soften at my words even if the tone was a bit harsh.
She sighs, leaning her head back against the leather seat. “My dad used to beat my mum all the time, me and Aleksy saw everything. The last time he did, he almost killed her.” I’m startled slightly at the admission, I wasn't exactly expecting it. She turns her head to look at me again. Her eyes flickering with emotion. “That's why I can't just sit back and watch.”
I inhale sharply, shaking my head. “Did she leave him?”
Her eyes go a little distant like she's relieving the memories. “He left her. Straight after he beat her within an inch of her life. Just left her bleeding out on the kitchen floor whilst me and Alek cried in the corner.” She sits back in her seat, eyes on her fingers where she toys with the gold bracelet on her wrist. “My mum had this game when we were kids, Whenever dad would start getting loud or she used the code word we would have to run and hide in the airing cupboard. It didn't always work, sometimes he would just lose it without any warning and we’d see it but this time was different. We were in there, sitting underneath the towel shelf but we heard everything. Sometimes Alek would cover my ears with towels but the noises we heard that day, it wasn't normal. Alek ran down there and I followed. She was in a pool of her own blood on the kitchen floor, our dad in front of her, kicking her repeatedly. I started crying and Alek started hitting him. He threw Alek off and just walked out without another word.”
“Jesus.” I breathe. “How old were you?”
She shrugs. “Five.” A heaviness settles over my chest. Five years old? I hate that she had to see that.
“You never saw your dad after that?”
She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t. Alek ran into him a few weeks ago, beat him up bad.”
