She didn’t have time to answer. She rounded the doorway, her legs kicking for freedom as she fought the man’s tight grip. Her legs were different from howI remembered–thinner, missing the muscle and definition from years of running. Her oval eyes, brown like chocolate, rounded as they landed on me.
“Hello, Jolie.” I stepped forward, excitement taking my features prisoner. That horrible thought reminded me of my past. Of the pain that this fucking woman had caused me. But not even that pulled the smile off my lips.
“No. No! Take me back. Take me back to my room!” her hoarse voice demanded. Thirst made her sound different. But fear made her sound familiar. “I’ll be good.”
“I don’t doubt it,” gold teeth worded, his head still low as he drew a giant X through her portfolio photo. “You were always so good. . . already trained. But your stay has come to an end.” He stood, his eyes still on anything but Jolie, not giving her any attention. He opened a closet and pulled out a piece of brown material. “Let’s get you dressed.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I raised my hand.Stop. I removed my jacket from my shoulders, mimicking an act of chivalry I’d seen my father do for my mother. Their faces imprinted in my head, moving my uncomfortable thoughts around into a new order. “It’s time to go home, Jolie.” My eyes fixed on her entire disarranged image as I tried to pass along the warmth of my jacket.
She turned away, refusing anything from me.
My smile grew at the challenge. “Take the jacket.”
Her eyes twisted to the trafficker who stood behind her naked body, his hands at his side. Gold teeth was right, his men didn’t want to touch her. She pleaded to stay in this hell, to stay the fuck away from me.
“Please. . .” a pathetic whimper left her full lips, the quiet sound echoed in the silent room.
“Jolie, take the jacket.” My patience frayed like the old brown material she was almost dressed in. She didn’t understand my softer side. So, I showed her a hint of evil. I showed her a hint of the boy she couldn’t forget. “Don’t you want to hide all those awful scars?” My eyebrow raised, but she didn’t see it. She didn’t see anything as my jacket hurled towards her, hitting her in the face. “Get fucking dressed. We have somewhere to be. I don’t have time for your disobedience. You’ve already cost me fucking years of my life.”
I stepped up close. The smell surrounding me grabbed her attention, pulling her face to me. It wasn’t a fancy cologne. It was the chloroform coating the handkerchief in my trouser pocket.
She didn’t look at my face; she’d seen it often enough in her worst nightmares–her expression told me that much.
I smiled knowing she was fucking dreaming of me.
Her chocolate eyes melted as tears balanced on her dark lashes. Her gaze sat fixed on my brilliant white shirt as I pulled out the handkerchief.
Her dipped head allowed her big hair to cover the left side of her face–the side damaged by my hand.
Perfection ruined forever.
She slipped into the jacket, cringing over the idea of my scent being back on her skin.
I angled her chin. My touch set her on fire, and her internal screams deafened me. Her nostrils flared in anger; a heavy breath escaped the small tunnels. It would only be a second before she inhaled, and I’d be ready for it.
In one quick move, I forced my handkerchief to her face and clapped my hands over her nose, forcing her to submit to the control the chloroform was claiming over her body.
My arms held her tight. She couldn’t fight the man the way she used to fight the boy, even if I wasn’t made of muscle.
Her body limped in my arms and slumber claimed her. I allowed the loan. Because when her eyes open to the sight of daylight, she’d forever be mine.
Fulfilling the promise she’d once made.
Chapter 1
Jolie—aged eighteen
“Where's our next adventure, baby?” My dad's hand squeezed my shoulder as I relaxed into him.
“Home. . . just home.”
“No more adventures?”
“Not for a while.”
He kissed my head, his blond stubble getting lost in the thickness of my afro.
Biologically, he wasn't my father, but in every other way, he was. He was my world, and the only person I really had in the world. He was in the process of adopting me when my mother died. . . and he fought the system to keep me in his care, and won.
