Page 36 of Ruthless Protector

Christ. I didn’t know if Reggie was being dramatic, but either way, he had nothing to worry about on the front. I didn’t plan on going anywhere near Tomas Mendoza. I watched as the song finished and Steph stepped back. Mendoza stood in front of her, looking down at her. Steph seemed to freeze, her lips parting. They stayed motionless like that for several tense seconds. Mendoza’s hand jerked at his side and he started to lift it, like he couldn’t resist any longer, like he had to touch her.

My breath caught in my throat.

But then he dropped it again, slid a stack of bills from his pocket and placed them on the table beside them, turned, and walked out.

Steph let out a shaky breath, her eyes not leaving him until he’d disappeared out the door.

I quickly looked away. I didn’t want her to catch me watching her. Clutching my bag to me, I headed for the door. I had my own drama to deal with.

One of the bouncers walked me outside and hailed me a cab. This was normal protocol for the dancers at Stilettos, but Raul had beefed up security after we’d heard a dancer in the city went missing. She wasn’t the first. Someone had been targeting strippers and prostitutes the last couple of months. We’d heard about it, of course—it was on the news—but so far, whoever was going after these girls had stuck to a certain area in the city. I guess we all felt kind of safe here in Brooklyn. But the latest girl, Fiona, used to work for Raul before she left for a bigger club, and he was taking it hard.

I waved goodbye to him and headed to the diner where I’d asked Trent to meet me.

It was close to four. I’d told Fay I had to pick up a few things after my shift and she’d agreed to watch Tilly after school for me until I got home.

My cab pulled up and I climbed out. I was dreading this exchange. I didn’t even want to breathe the same damn air as that bastard.

I was heading for the door, when someone grabbed my arm. I spun around and came face to face with Trent.

“Let’s go,” he said, and towed me toward a car.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I tried to pull my arm free.

“I have a friend watching your place. Tilly’s with that old bitch next door, right?” he said, making his threat impossible to miss.

I had no choice but to go with him. He shoved me into the passenger side, climbed behind the wheel, and took off. Trent couldn’t afford a car; I had no idea who this one belonged to. Christ, it was more than likely stolen. “Where are you taking me?”

“We need to talk,” he said, sniffing and dragging his hand across his nose.

His hands were gripping the wheel, but I didn’t miss that they were shaking. “You’re using again,” I said.

He glanced at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He chuckled. “So you can get me drug tested and get yourself off the hook. I’m not using. I’ll admit I like a drink or two, but I haven’t used since I went to prison.”

I didn’t believe him, but if I got child protective services involved and he was telling the truth, it could hurt me, and if Trent decided to go ahead and try to get Tilly back… Well, it could put a spotlight on me and Tilly—on what I was doing to earn money.

“Where are we going?” I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

“Like I said, somewhere we can talk.”

“We can talk here. Stop the car.” Oh yeah, I could hear the panic in my voice now, which meant he could too. I took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain my composure.

He ignored me and carried on. We drove for a while, twenty, maybe thirty minutes, until we were in some part of the city I didn’t recognize. He stopped the car. There were a lot of shipping containers, like the place was used for storage or something. The buildings around us looked to be rundown or empty.

I turned to him. “What are we doing here? Take me the hell home.”

Trent made a tutting sound. “You don’t get to call the shots, Willa, not anymore. You always did hate that you couldn’t control Rebecca, that she chose me over you.”

I stared into his eyes, at the hatred that was clear to see. Well, I hated him as well. Anger fired though me. “You’re the one who got her addicted to drugs. You’re the reason she’s dead, the reason Tilly doesn’t have a mother anymore. It’s your damn fault, Trent.”

His hands shot out and he fisted my shirt, shoving me against the car door behind me. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Do the right thing for once in your shitty life. Walk away, leave Tilly alone. She’s better off without you, we both know it, Rebecca knew it…that’s why she kept trying to leave you. It was the drugs that kept her coming back, not you, never you…”

“Shut up!” he screamed in my face.

Real fear churned in my gut. Before he’d come into my home and wrapped his hands around my throat, I’d never been scared of Trent. I needed to pull it back, and fast. I was in the middle of nowhere, with a man who hated me, who was clearly unhinged or back on drugs. Baiting him wasn’t clever. I needed to play nice, but I’d despised him for so long, had made no attempts to hide that fact, that I knew he wouldn’t believe it, even if I could stomach trying.

“My money, give it to me,” he yelled.