So Bad (Bad Boy Next Door #1)(46)

The legal department? I type CREEPER GATE into the browser on my phone.

My stomach curdles.

A photo of David with a story about how he allegedly videotaped women in the bathrooms at his ministry headquarters, and—“Oh my gosh. It happened here too?”

Cindy’s shoulders droop. The crease between her brows deepens. “I don’t know. It’s horrible and I’ve been putting out fires all day.”

Then the facts catch up with me.

Holy shit balls.

My skin crawls as my mind flashes over the things I’ve done in what I thought was the privacy of my own space. And to have Danny and Rachel’s dad watching everything.

Oh Lord.

Danny and me—the sex. Did Dave watch that too? My mouth sours and the back of my throat burns with the thought.

I turn and rush down the hall toward the exit. Before I go through it, I stop. Crap. They’re probably out there, waiting for me. Or maybe for Danny.

I should warn him.

I head to the bathroom as I tap the screen to make the call.

It rings once. “Mo?”

“Yeah.” I hit the lock on the door handle.

“Thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know. Look, I just called to tell you—”

“Oh no; they’ve found you, too.”

“At the shelter. Cindy chased them back outside.”

“I’ll come get you. Stay put. Where are you?”

The warmth in my heart wars with the cold in my gut. No. I can’t let him near me. I have too much to work through. “No. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? Can we meet somewhere later? Talk?”

I chew my thumbnail. Yes dangles from the tip of my tongue.

“Please, Mo, I need to see you.”

“That’s not a good idea. I have a lot to think about.”

“Are you okay? How do you feel? You haven’t done anything, have you?”

“Anything?”

“You know, about the baby—you haven’t decided yet, have you?”

I close my eyes and push my fingers through my hair. “No, not yet.”

A big sigh comes through the receiver. “Good. Please, before you do anything, can we talk?”

I cover my mouth and pull the phone away. Danny’s face smiles up at me—the selfie he took a week or so ago and set as his image in my contacts list.

Those dimples.

My ribs clamp tight around my lungs. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

I wash my hands and head down the hall to the childcare room. There are seven babies and toddlers all born to women who made the wrong choices. Choice of men. Choice of education. Choice of location. Some are at fault, some not. Either way, these babies are here, being raised in a shelter.

I place my hand over my womb. My decisions will affect the life growing inside me. This baby.





FOURTEEN





By the time I drag in at Slade’s, I’m exhausted. All I want is a hot shower. And my pillow is calling.

What I get is Danny sitting where I usually sleep.

I straighten my top and shoot a death glare at Slade.

He rubs his thighs and stands. “Well—I’ll let you two talk.”

Slade lets himself out. His old truck roars to life while Danny’s eyes hold mine.

I swallow the lump trying to form in my throat. “Look, Danny—”

He pushes up from the sofa. “Please. I had to see you…make sure you’re all right. Let’s just talk for a few minutes.”

I wave a hand over myself. “Okay, you’ve seen. I’m fine. Now you can go. I’m not ready to talk.”

He shuffles his feet, head down. “I’m sorry about what my dad did. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to cut us all off. But I hope you won’t. Rachel will be so hurt.”

Rachel?

My shoulders slump. Oh, Rachel.

I am the most horrible friend. “I don’t want to cut Rachel or your mom off—or even you. You guys are the closest thing I have to family. That’s why it hurts so bad to know what he did.”

Danny steps around the low table and takes my hand. Tingles run from his fingers straight to my heart. Every thought I have flees.

I let out a deep breath; with the air goes my resolve.

I’m a sad sack. He touches me and I lose my freaking mind.

He tugs me toward the couch. “Please, sit with me.”

He falls into the lumpy cushions and pulls me into his lap. I try to move, but he holds fast, his eyes boring into mine.

Who am I kidding? I don’t really want to get away from him. He knows it. I know it. So I let myself relax into his chest and settle against his warmth, his strength. He slides his arms around me, pulling me tighter into him, kissing my shoulder.

I pull my phone from my back pocket. “Rach hasn’t called. Does she know?”