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“Huh…?” Margaret says, looking between the two of us. She stumbles again to the side and looks me up and down. “Well, I wouldn’t mind.”
“You shut your mouth,” I snap, jabbing a finger toward her. “I’m not here for you.”
Rico’s mouth falls open with realization. He’s a mean bastard, but he’s far from stupid.
“I thought that house next door looked familiar.” He grins, tapping a finger against his flabby face. “You have a thing for that little vixen upstairs, don’t you?”
I don’t say a word. Margaret sways in place, trying desperately to make sense of things, but gives up after a moment and turns, walking into the living room. With a sigh, she flops onto the couch and promptly begins to snore.
Mother of the goddamned year.
“Well, we seem to be here for the same thing, Vincent. Since you saw her first, I’ll let you have a go at her.” No amount of drugs, alcohol, or money could ease that cruel look behind his eyes. A look that I want to snuff out.
I lunge forward and clamp a hand around Rico’s fat neck. I’m younger, taller, and stronger than him, and he barely puts up a fight. Cheap whiskey is on his breath, and I resist the urge to gag. I slam him against a wall and tighten my grip. He starts to spit and gasp, and I watch a red flush creep up his face.
“If you touch her, you die. I don’t care who your brother is. Nobody harms her.”
Rico coughs again, tries to mouth the words at me. I respond with a squeeze. Red begins to turn purple, and his eyes start to bulge.
“If I find you downstairs after I get her, your life is over.”
I let go. He slumps to the floor, taking a deep wheezing breath, and I head to the stairwell.
“You’ll…regret…this…” he says through gasps. I ignore him and leap up the stairs, heading to my love.
Even if I hadn’t already known which door is hers, my soul would have found her. I knock in a rush.
“Faith. It’s me. I’m here,” I call out, desperation creeping into my voice. From downstairs, I hear the front door slam. He’s gone.
The door swings open, and Faith leaps into my arms. I shudder, overstimulated by the sudden onslaught ofher. I smell her. I feel her. Her face is buried in my chest. It’s like a dream. She has a small backpack on, and her hair is starting to come out of its braids.
She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. I can tell she’s been crying for a long time, but the red rims around her eyes make them look even bluer. I wipe a tear from beneath her eye and smile gently.
“Please, take me away,” she whispers, her bottom lip trembling.
I swoop down, lifting her by her legs. I carry her like my bride, heading down the stairs on steady feet. She wraps her arms around my neck, burying her forehead against me.
“As you wish,princesa,”I whisper as I carry out of her former home and over to mine.
9
FAITH
When Vincent carriesme over the threshold of his home, I pinch the palm of my hand to make sure that this is real. Was it only yesterday that he was in my home, speaking to me for the first time? That I watched him taste my cookies and heard him compliment me?
I cannot believe that he saved me. Two minutes ago, I zipped on my old puffy coat, packed a bag, and Vincent saved me from my mother’s evil lover. I don’t know what happened to Rico, but he was gone by the time he carried me downstairs. My mother was sleeping off the alcohol, but I don’t care. I’m ready to leave her behind for good.
Vincent lifted me like I weighed no more than a feather and didn’t stumble or misstep once on the walk from my room to his home. But I could hear his heartbeat thumping in his chest. It was wild, fast. Despite his cool, steady demeanor, he was nervous. Excited, even.
Once we are safe indoors, Vincent sets me down gently. He flicks on the lights, and I stand in place, taking everything in. For the first time all day, I feel like I can take a steady breath.
“Your shoes, darling,” he says, nodding toward my feet.
“Oh.” I quickly kick them off, shrug off my backpack, and set it next to them. When I stand up, I bump into Vincent. He’s close behind me and places a hand gently on my shoulder. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, and I ease my spine into him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, whispering into my ear. I can barely feel the movement of his mouth against my skin, and I shudder. It feels too good, and I can’t stop and think about whether or not Ishouldbe doing this. All I know is that it feels right.
All at once, blood rushes between my legs, and I feel my pussy pulse and swell. Is it just me, or do I feel something stiff against my lower back? No…surely, he only sees me as a child, the girl next door.
