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“You know you like it, you little cocktease.” The guy’s hot breath moistens my neck. The driver slams on the brakes; I move my head to the side, and he propels forward, smacking his head off the bar. His forehead splits open; now he’ll really get violent.

“Fucking bitch!” he shouts. “You’ll pay for that.” Gripping my hair, he moves to smash my face against the same pole when something catches his attention.

Through the front window, I see Cato and a few other men standing in the middle of the road, guns aimed at the inside of the bus. The driver opens the door, and Cato stalks around, entering the vehicle with a fierce look that would cause me to shrink back if I could move.

“If you don’t take your hands off my girl, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”

Fear skates down my spine. This side of Cato is terrifying.

I hear one of them whisper to another, “That’s Cato Daire.” The name means nothing to me, but to them, it seems to.

With my release, I’m shoved into the pole so hard I lose my balance and slide to the floor. Curling in on myself, I try to make my body as small as possible. I want no part of this. I just wanted to get home, wanted to talk to the man who kissed me like he owned me.

“Pretty girl?” Cato softens his voice. “I need your eyes.”

Through the tears, I glance up at him. His scowl deepens, and his eyes harden as his gaze glances over my face like a caress.

“Who the fuck marked her?”

The bus’s back door opens, and I glance back to see the men with Cato entering, trapping my tormentors.

“I w-w-wanna go home,” I cry into my knees.

A few tense moments of silence pass before I hear Cato say, “You got this, Z?”

“Gladly, boss,” the man called Z confirms.

I’ve always been fond of the driver who’s accompanied Scarlett, Nate, and their grandmother to the library a few times. I hate involving him in my mess, though.

“Pretty girl.” Cato’s voice is near, so I open my eyes to look at him. “Christ, those tears are going to kill Daddy.” He shakes his head while opening his arms to me. “Can I take you home with me now?”

Flicking my eyes to the cornered men, each of them appears scared out of their minds, but they deserve it. I nod my head, and Cato pulls me into his embrace. My arms wrap around his neck, and my legs clasp around his waist as I hold on, never wanting to let go.

CHAPTER 7

Cato

She won’t look at me. She’s embarrassed about being harassed on the bus, but maybe she’s angry I didn’t call exactly when I said I would. It wasn’t intentional. If I could have, I would have.

“Are you alright?” I keep my voice gentle so as not to startle her, and she gives a clipped nod while staring out the window as we’re driven back to my estate. My mother is already cooking up a feast, and the kids are getting the theatre room ready because I told them they could have snacks and a movie after their dinner. “Did they touch you?” Masking the rage I feel is nearly impossible. She shakes her head this time. Still won’t look at me.

I’m doing my best not to pressure her, but I feel savage over the fact that someone thought they could harass my woman. Doing nothing on the scene went against my better judgment, too, but my men will bring each of those little punks back to the greenhouse, where I can teach them some proper manners.

Hester still won’t speak to me or look at me as we arrive at the house, so my frustration continues to build. We park in the circular driveway, which is covered up to the front door because I hate getting soaked when it rains. And after the kids were born, it made even more sense.

Getting out, I offer Hester a hand; she ignores me and exits her door on her own. Grinding my teeth, I bite back my words in order to keep the peace. For now. I want her comfortable around me and in my home, so paddling her ass is not the way to get her there, but I’ll only put up with it for so fucking long before I bend her over my knee.

Rounding the car, I lead her up to the house with a hand on her back. “My mom and the kids are making enchiladas for dinner. They weren’t sure what you’d like, so they chose my favorite.”

Getting this woman to open up is like trying to crack a brick wall with paper.

We enter the house, greeted by the sounds of happy chatter from the kitchen. Hester pauses inside the door, wringing her hands in front of her. Her nerves are exposed, and while I’m frustrated by her lack of vocal communication, I realize I’ll have to quickly learn her physical forms of speaking too.

Gripping her shoulders, I hold her to my chest. “They knew you were coming, and they’re happy to have you here. Don’t be nervous.”

Leaning over her shoulder, I catch her eye as she turns her head slightly. What I see settles the thoughts I had before. This woman went through a terrible experience at the hands of men looking to cause her harm. She doesn’t need me getting on her back either.

Lifting a hand, I gently hold her chin, lean forward, and brush my lips across hers. I fucking missed her today. “Tell me you’re okay, pretty girl. Please, I need to hear the words.” I’ll need to accept that she’s not much of a talker, but it’s hard when I’m already addicted to the sweet sound of her voice.