Page 30 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
“Also fine.”
Have you talked to him lately? I wanted to ask. Done anything illegal? Dangerous? But his eyes warned me away. I wouldn’t like the answer.
We moved on to safer topics. My work at the bakery and his at his restaurant. We both worked with food—something so elemental, providing sustenance, health. In my case, not so much health, but there’s a special intimacy that comes from preparing food for someone, as he had cooked this dinner and I had baked that pie.
We ate and were merry, as merry as Colin ever was. It was a last meal, of sorts. When we’d both eaten too much, Colin took me to the living room.
His hand caught mine, tender, and his eyes captured mine, intent. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said in a falsetto.
“Tell me,” he said.
I sighed. The man was a walking lie detector. Either that or I was transparent as fuck. “Something happened,” I said. “Bailey…well, her father has come back.”
His face showed no reaction.
I averted my eyes before continuing. An omission was still a lie. “He was a friend of mine. From school. And we…hooked up. And then he left town. Now he’s back, and he wants to see Bailey. At least that’s what he said, but I don’t trust him. He doesn’t care about her. He’s just using her to get to me.”
Those dark brown eyes revealed nothing. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t really know what I can do. I guess visitation is something that would have to be figured out in court. But I would… strongly prefer… that he not get to see us at all.”
Colin’s eyes sharpened. “What’s wrong with him?”
I blinked away the answering thoughts. “Nothing. I mean, it’s not like he’s ready to be a father. He just wants to mess with me, but he…he had a rough childhood. I mean, really bad.”
“He ever hit you?” His voice was soft, but even if I couldn’t have sensed the banked fury within him, I knew from experience what he could do to a man who hurt me. Even if I could’ve gotten the words out, I couldn’t tell him, not without risking Colin going after Andrew, hurting them both.
I was grateful that the phrasing of the question allowed my “no” to be the truth. He hadn’t hit me, not exactly. But I knew I had to be more specific if I wanted Colin’s help. “He’s just not completely…stable. He drinks too much, and he uses. He picks up and leaves whenever he wants. And when he’s angry…well, I don’t want Bailey around him.”
“You need money,” he said.
“Sort of. I have money…” Not enough, probably, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted safety. And him. “I mean, I’m not sure how much it’ll be, but—”
“I’m not rich, but I have enough for this.” He looked like a man calculating the odds. Unnecessary, really, since I was woefully out of my league. This wasn’t a negotiation as much as total surrender. “I’ll help you.”
I gave Colin a look.
He raised his eyebrows, all innocence. “I meant the right way. I can find a decent lawyer. We’ll fight him, legally. In the meantime, move in with me.”
“What?” Hadn’t seen that one coming. “That’s…that’s insane.”
He actually rolled his eyes, making him look more like the twentysomething that he was. “People move in together all the time.”
“Not after dating for a week,” I said.
“I’m counting since the first time.”
“In case you forgot,” I said, “I have a baby. A kid.”
“I didn’t forget. There’s room for her. Besides, your apartment is a shithole.”
Harsh. Even worse, he was right. “You’re completely frustrating.”
He raised one eyebrow, which somehow proved my words irrelevant in one smooth swoop.
I set down my fork, taking his offer seriously. “We barely know each other.”
