Page 6 of Apple of His Eye

“It wasn’t like that… I live next door.”

Shit,I curse internally, wondering if I was too quick to believe she’s harmless. Is she tied to my crackhead neighbor? The last thing I need is that kind of drama in my life.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not—I-I wouldn’t,” she stutters.

“I’ve never seen you before.” I tilt my head, achieving the truth in my observation. The woman before me might be tiny, her face might show signs of malnourishment, but that doesn’t mean she’s here looking to steal something for her next fix.

Or at least, I hope she isn’t.

“You’d have to be home more often to notice me, I think. But then again, my stepmother doesn’t let me out of my room all that often.” She inhales sharply, causing her eyes to turn wild. She gave me more details than she intended to. Her arms shake and her mouth quivers. “Please… don’t tell her I’m here. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave.”

Her panic causes me to pause and truly study her.

I feel a shiver crawl up my spine and piece together the truth. The girl before me is young. Much younger than I initially thought, too. Her reference to her stepmother has me wondering if she’s a minor.

Fuck.

The last thing I need is to be accused of kidnapping.

“Are you armed?” She shakes her head, and I believe her. “Lower your hands.” She complies and wraps them around her legs with a violent shiver. Her dark hair falls in wet strands across her face, making her look even younger. “Are you cold?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“Wildcat, I thought I told you not to lie to me.” I take a step toward her, keeping the weapon in my opposite hand, and pointed away from her. The cold concrete cuts into my skin like shards of glass. I can only imagine how it must feel against her wet skin and clothing. I flick my head toward the stairs and offer her my other hand, letting the flashlight dangle at my wrist. “Come on, we’ll talk upstairs.”

“Please don’t make me go home,” she pleads. I hear the desperation in her voice… the fear. I don’t like it.

“You’re more afraid of your stepmother than you are of me—and I had a gun pointed at you,” I observe, wondering why that is.

“She’s…”

“A piece of work, Wildcat.” I cut in. It’s true. Francineisa piece of work. One I spend more time than I’d like trying to avoid. “I’d never wish her on anyone, including my worst enemy.”

“So, you know about her then—and her friend Raymond?”

I assume Raymond must be her stepmother’s John, but I’ve never heard of him before. The Jackals aren’t in the sex industry, well, not beyond our strip club a few streets over.

The first time Francine knocked on my door, she was quick to eye fuck me and offer her services. It was obvious she was high on something, but I brushed her off and have avoided her since. “Raymond?”

“Yeah, Fran calls him her ‘good-time friend’, but I think he’s the one who’s been selling to her.”Selling? What the fuck?

“I’ve never heard of him, and what do you mean selling?” I ask cautiously.

“Drugs.”

Drugs? In Jackal territory? I think fucking not.I never thought to wonder where my neighbor gets her fix, because the Jackals have made it their mission to keep our territory free of any dealing. I always assumed Fran had traveled for it. Though, come to think of it, the woman didn’t have a car.

Seems like I need to bring this up at the next club meeting and have my guys look into it. If someone is running drugs in Jackal territory, they won’t be for long. “Come on, let’s get you off this ice-cold floor and into something dry.”

“I’d rather die than go back to her house,” she shakes her head, pressing further into the corner.

“I’m not taking you back.” She peers up at me with worry knit on her brow. “We’re going upstairs, and we’re going to find you something warm to change into.”

“Please don’t hurt me.” Her words are soft, and they caused my heart to twist in my chest. Her fear is genuine, and it tastes like acid in the air.

The thought of someone putting their hands on this beautiful girl stirs something deep inside of me. Something I thought died long ago.

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