Page 17 of Ruthless Protector

My back connected with the wall, and he pressed in, so I had nowhere to go. “Back the hell up, Trent.”

His hand came up, fingers circling my throat, and he squeezed. Not hard, but the threat was there all the same. “You think you can run off with my kid and not tell me, that you can hide her, keep her from me, and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

I grabbed his wrist and tried to wrench it away. His fingers tightened. “You don’t care about Tilly,” I choked out.

“She’s my daughter,” he snarled in my face, spraying me with spittle.

“When did that ever matter to you?” I snarled back. “You want money, and you’re willing to use your little girl to get it.”

His face twisted, expression turning even uglier. “You always thought you were better than me, that Rebecca was too good for me…”

“She was!” I yelled. “It’s your fault she’s dead, it’s your fault Tilly lost her mother.” I stared him down, fighting the fear, letting the anger come forward. I had a lot of it. “Do the right fucking thing for once. Leave Tilly alone. She’s better off without you and you know it.” I dug my nails into his wrist. “You’ve taken enough from her, hurt her enough.”

He hissed, pulling me forward, and slammed me against the wall. “I’ll leave, when you give me the money I asked for, and not before. You hear me.”

“I don’t have any money, asshole. It’s taking everything I have to keep this roof over our heads. Christ, how can you do this to your own daughter?”

“Shut the fuck up!” He moved closer. “You hate me? Well, bitch, I fucking hate you too, and I’m going to make your life a living hell until you start paying me what I’m owed.”

I tugged on his wrist again, but he refused to let go. “What you’re owed?”

“You want to keep Tilly, you’ll pay for it.”

And there it was. “You make me sick.”

“Maybe it’s time I worked at getting visitation with my girl. I bet she misses her daddy.”

Tilly never mentioned him, ever. She was scared of him. “No…don’t you…”

He squeezed tight enough to cut off my oxygen.

“Yes.” His forehead brushed mine, his stale breath washing over my face. “You don’t pay me, that’s what comes next. I’ve done my time. I’m grieving the loss of my woman. My daughter is all I have left.” He smirked. “They’ll eat that shit up…”

Someone banged on the door beside us and Trent’s head snapped toward it.

The outline of someone standing there was visible through the glass. A big someone.

Trent stepped back abruptly, letting me go.

I gasped for breath, scrambling along the wall to get as far away from him as I could.

“Willa, you in there?” a deep voice called through the door.

Jude.

“Who the fuck it that?” Trent hissed.

“My landlord. He’s an ex-cop, and he doesn’t like trash like you hanging around his house, so get the fuck out of here, or I’ll tell him you got physical with me.”

He got in my face again, eyes wild. “I need money, Willa, you hear me. I fucking need it.”

Jude banged again, harder. “Willa, you in there?”

“You tell him I was here, you’ll be sorry.” Trent shoved me away, then jogged down the hall, through the kitchen, and out the back way.

The banging got more insistent and the next time Jude called my name, there was real concern in his voice. I rushed to unlock the door, trying to calm my racing heart as I gripped the door handle. I yanked it open and stared up at him. He was scowling, but I didn’t think he was angry, more worried, going by the way his eyes moved over me. The man was assessing me, expecting the worst. I had a feeling he did that a lot, only this time he’d be right.

On the way up, his eyes came to a stop at my throat, then narrowed.