Page 52 of The Fixer

“The women?”

Nodding, I clutched at my wine glass. “The way your friend helped those girls. The way you’ve helped me. Maybe we can talk to Meg about getting someone in the shelter to teach the women self-defense. If it could help one of them, it’d be worth it.”

His smile, no longer tight, looked sad. “It definitely would.”

13

Jet

Eliza sat quietly in the car beside me, one hand in her lap, the other twirling a lock of red hair around her finger again and again. I had half a mind to reach out and stop her. To hold on to her the way I had a few nights ago. I wanted to calm the shake in her fingers, ease the anxiety rolling like waves across her skin. I wanted to bring her back to the previous night at the restaurant, to when she held on to me like I was her savior, even though I was anything but.

It was my fault, I was sure. My reaction that had her pulling away. When her fingers had grazed my throat, a torrent of horrid memories had crashed over me. Like a hand clutching my throat, squeezing the life out of me and not letting up.

It was just as well, her pulling back. I’d nearly crossed the line, nearly given in to the one thing I knew I couldn’t. No matter how fucking sexy she was, no matter how her presence eased the hurt that roiled inside of me since D’Angelo took away my life, it didn’t change the fact that I was the worst thing in the world for her.

That didn’t stop me from trying to make her happy. From making her the foods she loved, to holding onto her just a little longer than I needed. Because in her joy, I’d found mine. And that tiny shred of happiness was all I had to hold onto when my world was stripped from my hands.

Our normal routine that morning took longer than usual. From getting up and out of bed, to getting to the mats after breakfast. Each move we tried brought with it new bouts of anxiety, the girl hesitant to touch me, hesitant to open her guard. No matter how much I wanted to, I would not force my way in there. Would not squeeze my body between her thighs, press my hips to hers, touch her the way my skin demanded I should, without her full and proper consent.

Even then.

She could want all she wanted, it wouldn’t change the facts. I wasn’t the one who could give her what she desired.

I was the one who would take it all away.

Eliza showed hesitation once again when I pulled into a parking spot at the back of Hope Women’s Shelter and got out. She hadn’t even bothered to open the door by the time I rounded the car, just sat there twirling her hair, eyes on the stone building where she worked. I offered her my hand, and all the gold in her eyes glittered as she raised her gaze to mine.

Her hand slid into my hand.

Her skin grazed softly along my skin.

The weight of her was both heavy and feather light as she rose from her seat, body so close the heat of her burned me, the smell of her covered every inch of me. Wrapping me up in her the way my cock wanted to be wrapped up inside of her. Squeezed and pleasured. Covered and held tight.

Loved.

Jesus, fuck! I couldn’t do this.

“Jet?” The wisp of her voice called to me, begging me closer, begging me to run away. I licked my lips and my dick kicked in my pants before her hand settled lightly upon my arm. “Are you okay?”

I wasn’t. Her question made me blink, brought me back to where I was. Hovering over her, her chin caught between my fingers, my gaze locked on her warm, wet lips.

Wanting to devour.

Wanting to consume.

“Jet.” Her fingers curled around my own, tugging my hand from her chin. The other, she grazed along my stomach, making everything inside of me clench like a burning body, curling in to protect itself from the fire. She flinched as I backed away, her brow pulling down in time with the corners of her lips.

“I’m fine,” I rasped out, though Lord knew, I was anything but. “Just worried about you. You’re quiet.”

“There’s just a lot on my mind.” Her hand reached for me, her fingers twining between mine, the squeeze wicked and dreadful, sinful and yet as untainted as a child. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Talk to me, Jet. Holding it in will only make it worse.

“I’m fine,” I lied, shaking the voice of a dead man out of my head.

And Eliza, she stepped forward, a sad smile tipping her lips. She reached for me again, grazing along my stomach before her arm wrapped around me. Her cheek pressed to my chest, and I struggled to take a breath.

“Thank you,” she murmured, tipping her head up to look at me face to face. Mine tilting down, my mouth inches from her lips. “Thank you for bringing me here. It means a lot to me that you’d come.”