Relinquish(18)

“Apologize now!” The shadowed figure roars, making me jump. My fingers clench the rusty fence like a lifeline.

“Sorry,” pant Chasen and his buddy simultaneously. I nod and turn the other way. My emotions so up and down I’m not sure what to feel or think at the bloody sight.

“I will f*cking bury you if you ever look at her again. If you so much as walk up this street again, I will murder you in your sleep. Do you understand?” the shadowed man seethes, his words holding venom as he threatens. That voice. It sounds familiar.

“You got it, man,” one of the guys cries.

I watch Chasen and his buddies start limping away back toward the college. Chasen stops, turns around and grabs his crotch, blood spilling from his nose and lip.

“You were a lousy whore anyway!” he sneers, turning to run. I wince from his harsh words.

“Are you okay?”

I blink tears away, my fingers still hooked into the fence. The smell of spice and manliness caressing my senses makes me wake from my state of terror.

“I was just trying to survive. I didn’t know I was becoming a whore,” I whisper gravely. Even if I didn’t have sex with him, I still did things that were immoral in exchange for money. I close my eyes, wetness clinging to my lashes. Jayden and I needed the money, though. We needed food. We needed to pay our rent.

“What?” the voice asks.

I open my eyes, and it’s Landon from the café, looking at me with concern. His brows are raised, mouth parted, as he lowers my dress over my backside gently.

“Charlie, are you okay?” he questions again, lifting my chin with his thick finger. He looks me over as if he’s searching for injury. The fact he even cares is overwhelming.

“You,” I whisper, my body instantly flooding with a sense of comfort.

He chuckles. “You can call me Landon, remember?”

“L—” I choke on my words. “Landon, you saved me,” I mutter, pulling myself from the fence. My knees wobble from the adrenaline rush spiking my bloodstream, and I grab the fence again to steady myself.

“I was in the neighborhood.” He shrugs and straightens his tie. “Come on, you look like you could use a drink,” he invites, his voice smooth yet rough at the same time. He holds his hand out, waiting for me to take it. I bite my lip, unsure, and look back up at Landon. His face is sincere as he waits.

Even after everything that just happened, my body responds to him in a way that doesn’t make sense. I should be running to the cops, or at least be crying it out with Jayden in our apartment, drowning my sorrows in a tub of ice cream. Instead, I hold my hand out and take Landon’s.

I take a step toward him and my knees give out. Landon quickly grabs ahold of my waist and picks me up, holding me like a princess. My eyes connect with his, and my chest aches with desire. The cold that was once there blossoms with a caring warmth.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice low and sexy.

I shake my head and furrow my brows. “Um, yeah. I’m fine. Put me down,” I instruct, wiggling from his strong grasp. The smell of spice and freshness is clouding my train of thought.

He sighs and slowly lowers me.

“I can walk by myself,” I state, slowly standing on my own two feet.

He places his hand along the small of my back, his large frame cordial next to mine. “That might be, but I’m still helping you to my car whether you like it or not,” he demands. His alpha ego takes my breath away, and I don’t argue. I can’t, actually. The idea that someone cares about my safety has me speechless. I’m consumed in the strong vortex that is Landon.

“O-okay,” I mumble.





SIX


CHARLIE


Landon walks us to a fancy black car and opens the side door for me to get in. I slip into the luxury leather seat and notice the vehicle is loaded with dials and buttons. A small screen sets in the dash. This car puts Chasen’s truck to shame.

“Wow,” I whisper.

Landon climbs into his seat, the smell of sweat and cologne filling the space as he starts it. He’s wearing a gray dress shirt and black slacks—sexy and sophisticated, as usual. Tove Lo’s “Talking Bodies” starts blasting through the speakers. The lyrics of the song have me biting my lip and looking at Landon from the corner of my eye.

He looks over, his face empathic.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I inhale a deep breath, and smile softly. “Yeah, I’ll survive.” I’ve had to push pervy men off me before. I once woke up to an old guy standing over my bed, fondling himself. I kicked him in the nuts and ran to the phone to call my social worker. The guy’s name was Mr. Jenkens, and he was my foster parent at the time. He told everyone he must have been sleep-walking. That he ran out of his sleep aid and it made him do things in his sleep. Needless to say, nothing was done. I was moved to another home, but not before I was told I couldn’t seem to live anywhere without having a problem of some kind.

Life’s a bitch that keeps dishing out free life lessons. I clearly fail most of these lessons, but it doesn’t mean I give up. I push back and make my way through it, every time.

“Those boys won’t be coming near you again.”

I turn my head, shocked at the danger and promise laced in his voice. A primal need rushes through my bloodstream, a craving that has me holding my breath as I stare at Landon’s bright green eyes. My body sways toward him on its own accord, Chasen and his buddies’ acts of aggression soon forgotten. Landon smiles a boyish grin, little dimples popping up on each side of his mouth. I close my eyes and turn my head to stare out the window.