“Can you open the back door?”
I had to will myself not to lower my gaze and stare at her breasts in that dress as she bent down.
“Yeah,” I answered, finally noticing we weren’t alone. A petite blond woman with a little boy in her arms slid into the backseat at Chanel’s urging. My eyes bulged when she raised her head, and I saw her left eye was swollen shut, and a nasty cut on her lower lip, which was trembling as tears flowed from her non-swollen eye. She’d been through some shit tonight. My eyes lowered to the scared child in her arms. He looked to be about three years old. Instead of the rambunctious jumping around I’d come to expect of toddlers from being around Jason’s kids, he remained quiet and huddled close to the woman I presumed was his mother. Not until she settled in the back seat did she look up at me and notice me looking at both of them.
Her good eye quickly darted to Chanel, panicked.
“It’s okay, Anne. This is my friend, Xavier,” Chanel told her before closing the back door and climbing into the front seat.
“We need to go here,” Chanel informed me as she typed in an address on my navigation system, not bothering to explain anything. A blind man could see what was happening here, so I opted not to ask questions just yet. Instead, I checked the sideview mirror and pulled off when I saw no cars were passing.
It took about twenty minutes to get to our destination. The ride was awkwardly silent, the only sound in the car being the navigation system and the muffled sniffles of the woman in the back. The whole time, I repeatedly questioned what the hell I’d gotten myself into, and better yet, if this sort of thing was a regular occurrence for Chanel.
Chapter Three
Chanel
I stepped out of Xavier’s car as soon as he turned it off. Making my way to the back door, I helped Anne Marie and Noah out of the backseat and started toward the entrance of the mid-size brick building. I turned when I heard another car door close, and realized Xavier was getting out, following us.
I bit my lower lip, due to the nervousness of how I would explain this situation to him. Instead of asking right there, he walked past us to hold the glass door open. I inclined my head toward in gratitude and escorted Anne Marie and her little boy inside.
Donna, the director of the shelter, was there to greet us. I’d shot her a text while Anne Marie was packing a bag for her and Noah, to let her know we would be coming in.
“Hey, Donna. This is Anne Marie and Noah,” I introduced them.
Her warm green eyes greeted them and then shot over my shoulder suspiciously at the tall, dark, quiet man behind me. Turning from Donna to let her speak with Anne Marie, I walked back to Xavier. “Hey, thank you so much for driving us here. I know, um…” I blew out a breath, pushing my hair behind my ear.
“You don’t have to explain,” he stated knowingly.
I gave him a half-smile. “Um, I’m probably going to be here pretty late. So, you don’t have to wait. I’ll just catch an Uber back to the restaurant to get my car. Thanks again.”
He nodded and looked like he was about to say something else when Noah’s whines interrupted him.
“Moommy!” Noah began to whine.
I tossed Xavier a smile, excusing myself, and made it back over to Anne Marie, taking Noah from her. “Hey, little guy. I’m your mommy’s friend, Ms. Chanel. Remember me?”
Noah’s hazel eyes looked at me suspiciously, but he remained silent.
“Your mommy told me you didn’t eat dinner tonight. I bet you’re hungry.” Actually, dinner had been put on pause when Anne Marie’s husband came home from an obviously shitty day at work and decided to take it out on his wife. Again. “I also happen to know peanut butter and jelly is your favorite, and Ms. Donna here has the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the back.” My voice was infused with a cheer that didn’t lend itself to the gravity of our current situation, but was necessary when dealing with grumpy three-year-olds. “How about we go get a PB and J and some chocolate milk for you?”
Noah’s expression changed from curiosity to excitement as he nodded, relaxing in my arms.
“Okay, then.” I exchanged nods with Anne Marie and Donna. Donna led us to the locked doors to the side of the receptionist desk, which also was separated from the lobby by bulletproof glass. As we entered the hall, Donna double-checked to make sure the door was locked behind us, and we made our way down the hall and turned into Donna’s office. Anne Marie was seated and Donna took a seat behind her desk. I hiked Noah up on my waist.
“How about we go get that sandwich,” I intoned. “Anne Marie, I’m just going to take Noah to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and milk. The kitchen is on the second floor here, okay?” I explained, wanting her to feel comfortable. I knew she and Donna had some things they needed to discuss before I needed to come in and talk with her again.
“Okay,” she nodded, looking so broken.
Seeing this never gets easy.
“Come on, Noah.” We went down the hall to the stairs and found our way up to the kitchen. Being familiar with the place, I pulled out the ingredients and made Noah his sandwich, placing it on a Styrofoam plate before grabbing a carton of chocolate milk from the fridge. Within seconds of putting the food in front of Noah, his little hands scooped up the sandwich, chewing hungrily. My heart sank at seeing this innocent little boy with hazel eyes and dark brown hair, just like his father’s, caught up in this type of situation. It was after ten o’clock at night. He should be home sleeping comfortably in his bed, but instead, he was here, hungry at a women’s shelter while his mother was in the process figuring out how to safely escape her husband and still keep her life.
“Done,” Noah stated around a yawn.
“Want any more milk?” I asked as he placed his empty carton on his plate.
He shook his head, and I picked up his plate, discarding it in the garbage. After wiping his mouth, I grabbed his hand and led us out the room and down the steps back to Donna’s office.
