Owned by the Bad Boy(37)
He won’t. The kid hasn’t stopped screaming since we left his father’s house.
“Claire.”
A stern voice cuts through the crying, and I’m suddenly bathed in a long, dark shadow. I whirl around and see Frank standing in the middle of the pathway, blocking out the sun.
Finally.
“Are you all right?”
He eyes the crying baby, a frown appearing like a deep cut in his forehead.
“Frank, I need your help. I’ve got to get away from him.”
He’s wearing a thick navy sweater even though the sun beats down on his neck. I can see the beads of sweat pearling his skin.
“So you’ll turn him in?”
“No,” I yell through the baby’s noise. “I don’t want—damn it—I don’t want him to get into trouble. Why can’t you put me in the program again?”
He licks his lips. “I won’t be able to convince the WPP to accept you again. You left of your own free will.”
I bite my tongue hard.
“You know that I had no choice.”
He takes my shoulders in his hands, the fingers biting into my flesh. “Give me a statement, Claire. Tell me you fear for your life. Give me something to put that bastard behind bars where he belongs.”
Our voices echo loudly down the passageway. I see it in my head like a repeat of last year. The pain clenching my chest when I had to stare into the eyes of my boyfriend as I accused him of money laundering. He was sentenced to one year. I can’t do it to him again.
“There must be something you can do! I testified against him once, I won’t do it again.”
Étienne finally quiets down, tears shining on his small cheeks. Frank brushes the top of his head softly and a smile tugs at his lips, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Not if you were with me.”
Oh God. Not this again.
He bends over me, his hand still heavy on my shoulder, and he brushes it ever so slightly with his thumb. I fight an intense urge to throw off his hand. Damn, he’s always made me unsettled, but he was always so sweet with Étienne. Suddenly his lips are centimeters from mine and I catch the taste of licorice on his breath. It’s foul. I jerk away, but he follows. His lips claim mine, but my hands are around my baby and I can’t shove him away. A wave of nausea hits me, and I stumble back, striking the wall.
“Stop!”
Frank’s face blooms with color as Étienne erupts into fresh wails.
“I’m sorry—I couldn’t help it. You look like her.”
His ex-wife. He told me about her the day he was assigned to me. I felt sorry for him.
“I’m not her. I don’t want to be her.”
He flinches from each word as though I’ve struck him. “But you’d rather stay with that prick.”
A ripple of anger runs through me. “That prick is Étienne’s father, and I’m trying to get away from the people around him. He’s a good man.”
He looks at me and I almost take a step back from the fury in his eyes. “He got you arrested for a felony. He’s a murderer. He’s part of a fucking gang, Claire. What do you think he does in his spare time?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Let me fill you in,” he begins in a loaded voice. “He probably makes multiple stops in small businesses around the area and shakes them down, meaning he beats the shit out of people who can’t pay the extortion and protection rackets Johnny’s running. When he’s done with that, he goes to that slimeball’s restaurant and gives him an envelope stuffed full of cash that he robbed from ordinary people trying to make a living, and then he goes out with his friends to a strip joint or one of the brothels the mob is running and he fucks one of those diseased whores. Then, when he’s sober enough to drive, he comes back to you.”
My jaw drops as I watch Frank’s figure shake with fury.
“Surprised?”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not jealous of that piece of shit,” he snarls. “I took care of you. I looked after you—”
“Not well enough.”
“I’m trying! I’m setting tails on that fucking prick ’round the clock, and I’m pulling him over.”
Fear rushes up my throat. The last thing I need is Luc wondering whether I’m behind this cop’s harassment. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“I fucking hate them,” he mutters to himself, fists clenched into balls. “They all deserve to die and I won’t stop until every one of them, including your lover, is behind bars.”
Maybe the man I should be running away from is right in front of me.
* * *
When I get home and I’m safely shut behind the doors, I’m dealing with an extremely red-faced, pissed-off baby. My heart pounds from the short walk a couple blocks away.