Chapter Eight
Kylie
She blinked her eyes open, feeling the tacky pull of sleep that had mixed with her tears and formed a glue holding them shut. Balling her hands into fists, she rubbed at the lids until they were clear. Her eyes opened, revealing to her an unfamiliar room. It was a light gray color.
It wasn’t her bed. “Where am I?”
Looking around, she noted the bag of stuff on the dark-stained hardwood floor, packed haphazardly and strewn about from when she’d ransacked it the night before. All at once it came flooding back to her.
Her car. Destroyed.
Her house. Ransacked.
Her life. In shambles.
Kylie frowned as her eyes started to burn, but nothing came. No tears. She’d literally cried out all of the tears the night before after Corde had taken her to one of the nicest hotels in the city and put her up in one of their suites.
He’d said she needed the amenities of it, since her house wasn’t available. A regular room didn’t have the kitchen, and he’d been rather assertive that she needed to eat regularly. As if she didn’t have enough spare food packed away in her body to sustain her for a time.
Against her better judgment, Kylie had allowed him to take care of her. Groaning, she fell back into the sinfully luxurious pillows, clamping her hands over her face and wishing it would all go away. It was just a dream, a horribly, terribly, painfully realistic dream. That needed to end. She pinched herself hard enough to leave a red mark, but nothing changed. She didn’t magically wake up.
“Why is this happening to me?” she moaned. “What did I do to deserve this? I was just trying to help people.”
She’d gone wrong somewhere, that much was clear. But Kylie didn’t know where.
Beside her the alarm on her phone started going off, letting her know it was time to get up. Angrily she shut it off, tossed the covers aside, and started getting ready. Everything was telling her to just quit, to sell everything, and take off for parts unknown. New city, new job, new life. It was time.
Which is exactly why she was going to dig in and show everyone that she wasn’t a quitter.
Finding clothes from the suitcase she’d packed proved a challenge, but in the end she managed to put together an ensemble that was mostly appropriate. Apparently in her shocked state she’d grabbed mostly bar clothes. Oops. Thankfully the white shirt covered her, even if the built-in choker and form-fitting fabric gave it away that it wasn’t an everyday outfit. The last thing she needed was to show up to work with a bunch of cleavage for all the boys to stare at. No thank you.
She sucked in a deep breath of air, unlocked the door, and strode out into the hallway.
“Hey!” she shouted, dodging to the side as she nearly slammed nose-first into the brick wall that was Corde’s chest. “What the hell are you doing?”
She spun around, back to the far wall as the huge mountain of a man turned to look at her, his eyes focused on her with an intensity that she shouldn’t be comfortable with, and yet somehow was.
“I told you last night, you’re not safe until the gang is dealt with. I will protect you until then.”
Kylie ignored the last part of his statement because she had no idea how to address it.
“Why do I get the impression that you mean to deal with it yourself?”
Corde didn’t meet her stare, looking off to the side. “I would, but I can’t.”
“Why?” She was curious why he would handle the street thugs instead of letting the police do their job. Corde, however, interpreted the question differently.
“You have said you don’t like violence.”
She blinked several times, readjusting her mental process to adapt to the different direction the conversation had gone in.
“Well of course not. I don’t like bullies, and I definitely don’t like people who threaten or hurt other people.” Her eyes narrowed into a glare. “Especially those who do it with weapons.”
She turned and headed for the elevator without waiting for him to respond.
“You’re talking about me,” he said, appearing next to her suddenly, his long legs easily keeping pace. “That was completely different.”
Kylie laughed sharply. “Oh Lordy, I’ve heard that one before. They all say that.”
She sensed more than saw his head rotated to look at her. “They?”
“Yes. They. Them. Criminals. You know, all the people I deal with on a daily basis. Almost all of them insist that they are innocent. That it wasn’t what it seemed. That it was a misinterpretation. That they didn’t mean to commit a crime.”
Corde bowed his head. “I didn’t know it was a crime,” he grumbled just loud enough for her to hear. “I’m not a criminal,” he added forcefully.
She snorted, memories of her ex-husband coming back to her. He’d said the exact same thing to her for six months, and she’d believed him every time. Naïve little Kylie, never once doubting him, never suspecting that she was being manipulated the entire time. Until the police showed up in the middle of the night breaking down their door.
Shaking her head, she pushed past that hurt. It was behind her, and Corde was certainly nothing like her ex. That didn’t mean she believed him when he said he wasn’t a criminal, but the differences were too noticeable to compare the two of them.
Maybe that’s why she was giving Corde a chance. Maybe he could be saved…
“I’m not,” Corde restated. “How many criminals have you known that have cared for your well-being like I have?”
Kylie bit her tongue. He was right on that front. None of them had given a lick about her, except perhaps for wanting to get her alone. Otherwise, it had been all about them. They were innocent. They were misunderstood. They just needed a second chance. It was never, “How are you Kylie?”
“Fine,” she grumped. “You may have a point there.”
To her surprise he didn’t gloat in his victory. Instead he remained silent while the elevator descended, until the doors opened. “The cab is waiting,” he said politely.
Kylie glared at his back as he opened the door for her, just another example of his gentlemanly actions. Come to think of it, he’d been nothing but chivalrous to her. Her mind had been out of it at the time, but now it replayed how he’d gotten out of the car and explored her house to make sure it was safe, and then how he’d held her while they waited for the police, never once letting his hands wander or trying to do anything inappropriate.
He’d simply been there for her in any way she needed, without complaint.
For a moment she let herself wonder if perhaps he wasn’t like the rest of them. He’d complained his first day in her program, but the next he’d shown up and worked twice, no four times as hard to prove he was sorry! Then he’d stepped in and stood up for her against Jose. After that he’d escorted her home, and then paid for the ridiculously expensive hotel room that she didn’t need.
Who are you, Corde? she thought to herself as she got in the cab next to him. He was a mystery, that was for sure. Whatever he was, Kylie was starting to think there was a lot he wasn’t telling her. The curiosity and intrigue pulled at her immediately, tempting her to ask, to probe him with questions and find out just what made him tick.
Experience told her that no, she shouldn’t do that. She needed to keep him at bay, to not go down that path and to keep things uncomplicated. Kylie knew all too well what that would result in. Hot, passionate sex that would eventually morph into tears, heartbreak and pain. No, she was done with that, thank you very much.
Corde could keep his mysteries. For now.
He settled in to his seat, and despite the fact that his size made the interior cramped, she didn’t feel intimidated. In fact, she felt secure, knowing he was next to her.
“So, what’s the plan?”
She looked at him. “Huh?”
“Your car, the house? When do you plan to get those fixed? I need to know how long to book the hotel for.”
Kylie avoided his gaze, turning her head so she could look out the window as the cab pulled out of the hotel’s valet parking and into traffic.
“When I have money,” she said at last, knowing she had to give him an answer.
The truth was, she might never get it repaired. The funds just weren’t there. Maybe she could re-mortgage the house. Again. Selling the car wasn’t an option; she needed it for work. Maybe she would have to rent out a room to someone.
“You don’t have the money, do you?” he asked softly.
Suddenly she was glad she’d done all her crying last night, otherwise she might have burst into tears just then as she shook her head.
“Very well,” he said. “Then you shall come stay with me in the spare suite.”
Kylie jerked upright. “No. No, no no.”
He stared at her. “It is the only way I can ensure your safety.” There was a short pause. “Unless you now wish for me to go deal with the gang.”
“No!” She felt like a record on repeat.
“Then you have your answer.”
Kylie’s jaw worked, but no words came out.
Now she was staying at his place? Things had just gotten complicated.