Trashy (Take It Off #10)(27)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“I haven’t seen her. I stayed at Cam’s last night.”

That bad feeling in my gut intensified. “Is there a reason you look guilty?”

Harlow sighed and averted her eyes.

“Spill it,” I ordered.

“I think he’s bothering her again,” she admitted.

I knew she was going to say that. I mean, I’d pretty much been thinking the same thing, but just hearing the words out loud pissed me off. “What makes you think that?”

“He’s been calling. Blowing up her phone,” Harlow said. “I asked her about it. She doesn’t say much, but…”

“What?”

“She’s been a little jumpy lately.”

“Fuck.”

“She was home alone last night.” Harlow worried, wringing her hands. “I offered to stay home, but she told me to go.”

That would explain the dark circles beneath her eyes and her distracted head.

“It’s my fault—”

I held up my hand. “No, it isn’t. Roxie is stubborn as hell.”

“Still, I think I might be all she has.” She said it softly, like it hurt to voice aloud.

It fucking hurt to hear.

“She has me,” I ground out.

Harlow glanced up, her eyes wide. “I thought you two were just friends.”

I gave her a level stare. “You know better.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I do. Glad you finally do too.”

I grunted and reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys. “Can you keep an eye on the place? I’m going to check on her.”

Harlow nodded.

I shut my office door on the way out and scanned the crowd already forming in the bar. Cam was behind the bar, and I knew he and Harlow would be able to handle things here.

I nodded at Ty, the best bouncer in the place, on the way out and stepped into the parking lot. It was still light out, but because it was late summer, it wasn’t as bright as it would have been just last month.

I turned the corner of the building toward my bike and collided with Roxie.

She bounced off my chest and I reached out to steady her. I couldn’t help but notice all the dark curls falling over my fingers.

“Roxie,” I said. Relief flooded my system. “I was just coming to check on you.”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. Her voice was slightly off. Forced. “I lost track of time.”

She was shaking again. I felt the slight trembling beneath my hands.

“Hey,” I said, releasing her. “You okay?”

She glanced up at me, then ducked her head. Her face was red. I went to grasp her chin to look at her again, but she flinched.

Rage burned through me. It ate away all the worry I had for her just moments ago. I’d never had a woman flinch away like she was scared.

“Look at me, Rox.”

She did, letting her curls fall around her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin uncomfortably red. “Why is your face so red?” I asked.

“Oh,” she sighed. “The A/C in my car went out. I’m just hot.”

“Didn’t you just have that fixed?” I asked suspiciously. I was suddenly taken back to the night I sent her home because of that damn non-working A/C. She was sick from the heat, and I told her to go. I’d ultimately sent her home to be attacked.

It was the night I slept on her couch.

“Apparently, the guys at the garage thought they could charge me full price and slap a Band-aid on it to make me think it was working again.”

I clenched my jaws. What kind of asshole takes money for a job, then lets a woman drive off in the heat, knowing the problem wasn’t fixed?

I muttered exactly what kind of asshole I thought he was. Roxie laughed, her head tipping back with the force of her giggle.

She had a handprint around her throat.

My vision dimmed and went dark around the edges. Her cheeks might be red from the lack of A/C, but the redness around her jaw and the markings on her throat were not because she was hot.

“Sweetheart.” My voice was heavy. I didn’t know how to feel such strong emotions simultaneously.

Rage and regret threatened to choke me.

Her eyes flashed, and I knew she realized what I’d seen. Quickly, she ducked her head and let her hair fall around her neck and over her shoulders.

Even so, what I’d seen could not be unseen.

“We’re leaving,” I said, motioning for her to move toward my bike.

“I’m here to work.”

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” she said. I saw the panic sweep into her eyes.

“What are you so afraid of?” I whispered. Why won’t you talk to me?

Her shoulders slumped. The stubbornness she always carried wasn’t there. “Right now?” she whispered. “Everything.”

I wanted to grab her and yank her to me. I was afraid to. I was afraid she would flinch away or that I would scare her.

Fuck. That.

I wasn’t going to let that fuckwad influence the way I treated Roxie. I wouldn’t give him any power over me at all. He already had too much. If Roxie didn’t want me to hold her, she could tell me herself.

I reached for her, gently tugging her wrist. “Come here.”

She melted against me. It wasn’t the first time I’d had Roxie in my arms, but she felt smaller than ever. I had to stomp down on the rage inside me because she didn’t need that kind of emotion. She needed something else, something better.

Something I was pretty sure not many people had given her before.

I tucked her against me, fitting her head just beneath my chin. The way she curled into my chest, like she couldn’t get close enough, made my heart trip. Roxie pulled her arms so they were under her, against my chest, and gripped the front of my dress shirt.

I rubbed up and down her back and didn’t say a thing. I just held her close, feeling like a fish out of water. I didn’t know how to act in a situation like this. I’d never had any experience with a man who fucking beat a woman.

I wanted to kill him.

Honest to God. If he were standing here right now, I would’ve fucking killed him.

Men—no—people in general who took advantage of someone smaller, someone more vulnerable, were scum.

But how could I do that without hurting her worse?

A couple people on their way into the bar gave us sideways stares as they walked past. I gave ‘em the eye, daring them to say a word. They didn’t, having gotten the message.

“Sweetheart,” I murmured, tightening my hold. “Let’s go talk.”