“He hit you,” he said in such a way that I knew it wasn’t a question. “Did he do anything else?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He kissed my lips before gently removing the tape from my arms and ankles. When I was free, I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and bawled my eyes out.
“I knew you would come for me,” I said through my tears.
He let me cry for a few minutes before he kissed the top of my head and removed my arms from his shoulders.
“He’s a dead man walking, Rose. When I see him again, it’s on sight.”
He didn’t have to tell me, because that was a given.
“You can’t go back to your apartment until I take care of him,” he continued.
“Okay.”
He pressed his lips against mine again before securing me in the seat.
“I’ll be right back.”
He closed the door and walked to where Rocky, Rowdy, and Officer Downing stood a few feet in front of his truck. I pulled the sun visor down to look at my face and gasped at the sight of it.
The whole left side of my face was swollen, and even on my dark brown skin, the purple bruise was clearly visible. I slammed the visor closed and let my head fall back onto the headrest. The tears came again, but this time, it was the relief that overwhelmed me.
This situation could’ve been much worse, but by the grace of God and Russell’s love for me, I was out of danger. A few years ago, Rue was kidnapped by her ex-boyfriend, who was my nephew Briar’s biological father.
Rocky didn’t waste a moment rescuing her, and we hadn’t seen or heard from Deacon’s bitch ass since. No one spoke about it, but we knew he died at the hands of Rocky, and unfortunately for Preston, he would meet the same fate at Russell’s hands.
The door opened, and I lifted my head and opened my eyes. Russell slid behind the wheel with a serious look on his face. When he glanced at me, his expression softened.
“You good?”
“I’m okay, but I have to pee.”
“There’s a gas station not too far from here. Can you hold it for two more minutes, or do you need to go in the bushes?”
I gave him a weak smile. “I think I can hold it.”
“I love you, Rose, but don’t piss on my seats.”
On the way to the gas station, his phone rang, and Melvin Rogers appeared on the display. Russell answered the call, and because it was connected to Bluetooth, I heard the conversation.
“Wassup, Melvin?”
“Mr. Rush, I’ve been trying to contact the security company, but?—”
“It’s cool, Melvin. I got what I need. Thank you for trying to help.”
“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll see you next month?—”
Russell ended the call and kept his focus on the road.
“Why will you be seeing my apartment manager next month?” I asked.
“Because I paid your rent for the whole year when you moved in, and he gives me the money you pay him each month. I put it in an account for you.”
“Russell—”
