“How about Legs over there?” my best friend Dane asks, before sipping on his tumbler of bourbon.
I tug at my tie, which feels too tight around my neck in this stuffy bar, and dart my gaze over to a redhead with a rocking body. Gorgeous as hell but completely out of my league. I’m a fifty-two-year-old widower with two teenage daughters. There’s no way in hell someone like her would be interested in someone like me.
“Not my type,” I grunt. Not a complete lie. I’m not one of those douchebags who goes through a midlife crisis and ends up with someone his daughters’ age. If I get back into the dating game, I want something serious. I’m too fucking old to waste my time on a bimbo who wants a sugar daddy.
“She’d be an idiot not to want you,” he replies, a slight bitterness in his tone.
I brush off his comment—not going there today—and sigh. “Evie was a brunette. I prefer brunettes.” It’s been close to eleven years since my wife Evie died too soon from cancer leaving me to manage our two girls alone. She’d been the love of my life. I have never attempted to dive back into the dating pool until recently. So far, it’s been one train wreck after another.
“How about this?” he suggests. “Stop trying to replace someone who isn’t ever coming back. Broaden your horizons a bit. Go for something different, man.” Again, with the subtleties.
I loosen my tie some more. This bar isn’t my scene. It’s a goddamned sex club for crying out loud. If I didn’t know the owner so well, I wouldn’t be here at all. I vowed to both Miles and Dane that I’d give it a try. And here I am, fucking trying.
“That one’s your age,” Dane snorts and points to a woman old enough to be my mother as she flirts with some young couple.
“Fuck you.”
“Can I get you boys another round?” a sweet, soft voice asks from behind me.
Dane nods and rattles his glass but I turn around to regard the waitress because I’m not barbaric like my best friend.
“Make it a double,” I grunt as I lock onto an icy pair of blue eyes. Familiarity sparks within me as I try to place the young woman. “Do I know you?”
She bites down on her lip and lowers her gaze. “You don’t. I’ll be right back.”
I watch her as she rushes back behind the bar to make our drinks. Her long blonde hair has been pulled into a high, sleek ponytail showcasing her slender pale neck. The black leather bustier she’s wearing cinches in her waist and accentuates her perky breasts. I find my eyes roaming her tiny body and landing on her ass that’s barely encased in a pair of red leather shorts. Small. Round. Perfect.
I don’t even like blondes.
“You don’t even like blondes,” Dane mirrors my thoughts, amusement lacing his tone.
“I’m not into her. I think I know her from somewhere.” My eyes travel back up her body to the back of her head. She turns to the side to reach for something and I can’t miss the long scar on her cheekbone under her left eye.
“The jury finds Carson Jennings not guilty of racketeering and money laundering.”
The motherfucker is guilty—it’s written all over his handsome smug face. But I’m just the deliverer of bad news, not the creator. My eyes flit to a pretty blonde in the back of the courtroom. Her features crumple and a tear rolls down her badly bruised cheek and settles where she’s sporting some stitches. Then, she stands and escapes the courtroom as if she’s the one who should be running from the law, not the bastard before me.
“Enjoy,” the blonde mutters as she sets our glasses down.
I gently grip her wrist, stopping her from leaving. “I do know you. You were there a few months ago at the Jennings hearing. I saw you crying.”
Her blue eyes widen as she regards me. Understanding seems to dawn on her and anger twists her features up. “Sure. I remember you. You let a monster run free.” She starts to pull away but I don’t let her wrist go.
“What’s your name?”
She lifts her chin in the air. “None of your business. Now let me go.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I release her from my grip. She hurries away from me and darts into a back room. I’ll have to ask Miles who she is.
“That one isn’t worth your trouble, man,” Dane tells me. “Women like her have claws. You’ve had a lifetime of having your heart torn out. Play it safe. Red over there has tits that look mighty fucking safe to me.”
Fuck safe.
I’ve been safe and numb for over a decade.
Maybe a few claws in me is just what I need to feel again.
“I’ll be right back.” I stand and drain my glass before stalking away from my best friend.
“Max!” he hollers behind me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When I turn around, he’s grinning at me with a knowing look on his face. He thinks I’m dead set on sleeping with the blonde. Honestly, he couldn’t be further from the truth. I just want to talk to her about that day. There have been plenty of times where I felt like the jury made the wrong decision but it wasn’t my call to do anything about it. They were presented the facts and they made the decision. I had to accept it. That day, though, I didn’t accept it any easier than the sad blonde had.
I’m headed toward the back room she disappeared into when a familiar asshole in a suit darts in behind her. My hackles raise because I don’t like the way he seems to stalk after her. I quicken my pace and follow after them. Just as soon as I slip inside, I recognize his voice. Carson Jennings.
“I’ve been looking so hard for you, Goldilocks. Who knew you were right under my nose the entire time?” His voice is menacing.
Her attention is solely on him as she backs away, terror glimmering in her eyes. “Please. Just leave me alone.”
He chuckles. “You know I can’t do that, Dorian. You ran off and we were just getting to the good part.”
When he launches himself at her, his hand seizing her throat, I don’t think, I act. I charge after him and rip him away from her. My fist cracks against his jaw with such force I’m shocked at the sheer power of it. He crashes against a shelf full of clean glasses and crumples to the floor.
“Y-You…I…I…” She trails off and her hands begin trembling.
Carson groans from the floor and starts patting his pockets as if he’s looking for something.
“I need to leave,” she whispers, but her feet are planted firmly on the ground.
He pulls his phone from his pocket. As soon as he starts dialing, I snag her tiny wrist again.
“Come with me,” I order.
She’s still in a daze but she lets me guide her past the idiot who is still sprawled out on the floor. We’ve just made it to the door when I hear him speaking to someone.
“She’s here. Don’t let her leave.”
I slide my arm around her narrow waist and guide her out of the room. “Where’s the closest exit?” I question, my head dipped low to whisper to her.
“Uh,” she says, “that way.” The daze she was in seems to clear and she quickens her step.
It isn’t until the warm late summer air blasts us outside that she starts to truly panic.
“Wait! My purse is in my locker upstairs!” She stops and starts to turn around but a roar has her freezing in my grip.
“DORIAN!”
She completely shuts down. Her shoulders hunch and her head lowers. As if she’s resigned herself to the fact that this motherfucker is going to get her.
Over my dead body.
I hoist her tiny body over my shoulder and haul ass to my black Lexus. Carson is yelling after us but I don’t stop. I continue my trek to my vehicle. Once I toss her into the backseat, I hop in the front and tear out of the parking lot as fast as my car will go. I’ve been drinking but not enough that I don’t have my senses about me.
“You okay back there?” I ask, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
Her frightened blue eyes meet mine as she nods. “I-I got away.”
Fuck right she did.
“Do you have anywhere I can take you? Someplace safe?”
This time when our eyes meet, hers are filled with tears. The last thing I need to do is bring this trouble back to my house where I still have one daughter who lives at home. Yet, she doesn’t seem like she’s eager to go wherever home is for her.
“I’ll take you to a hotel. We’ll figure something out,” I assure her.
Why the fuck I’m helping this blonde is beyond me. I don’t get involved in other people’s business. I’m a judge and a father. I don’t focus on much else. Certainly, not saving pretty blondes from assholes at sex clubs. Not my cup of tea at all. I cook steaks on the grill each week for my daughters and am a board member at the local country club. I’m the epitome of boring older guy. Definitely not the type to meet a chick at a sex club and then rescue her.
Yet, here I am.
The motherfucking hero.
I almost roll my eyes. If my daughter Olivia knew I was doing this shit, she’d laugh her ass off. She’s my adventurous kid. And this is most certainly an adventure she’d love to hear about.
We drive in silence past some dinky motels. I’m headed toward an Embassy Suites when a thought occurs to me. If this girl is on the run from the influential Carson Jennings, he’d snap her up in a heartbeat from a hotel. He’s wealthy and has means.
Yanking out my phone, I call Dane.
“I’m going to use your lake cabin tonight. Key still under the ugly-ass gnome on the front porch?” I ask in greeting when he answers.
He snorts. “So, you are into blondes. Right on, man. Take the cabin for as long as you need. I’d planned on going there this weekend with a friend of mine so I just cleaned and stocked it. But this feels like a sexual emergency and here I thought you flat-lined ages ago. My dick can wait but yours is getting older by the minute. Don’t say I never take one for the team.”
Smirking, I shake my head. “I owe you one.”
“Not even going to argue. Have fun, buddy. You certainly deserve it.”
We hang up and I relax in my seat. Once I make sure Carson isn’t on our tail, I head toward the cabin. It’s pitch black out where his property is. The lake isn’t one of the popular haunts around town. This lake is infested with gators and heavily surrounded by woods. But it’s private and good for hunting and fishing. I’ve often considered buying off some of his land to build a little hideaway of my own.
As we wind down the gravel road that’s lined with trees, I can sense the tension rippling from the backseat. All that can be seen ahead are the headlights from my car. Aside from that, everything is dark. I’m sure it feels like a scene straight out of a thriller movie from her point of view.
“I’m taking you somewhere safe,” I assure her.
That’s what the bad guy always says before he brings her to the secluded place to imprison her. I watch Criminal Minds. I know things.
“Okay.”
She’s already planning her escape. She must watch Criminal Minds too.
We eventually pull up to the cabin that’s only a few hundred feet from the lake. Dane isn’t one to rough it so at least the cabin has amenities. She’ll be able to relax—once she realizes I’m not going to tie her up in some musty cellar. I’ll be able to ask her questions and possibly help her. Carson may have means but I’m the motherfucking judge of this town. I have means too.
I shut off the car and climb out. She’s already out of the car, on the defense. One wrong move and the girl would probably take off running in the woods.
“Bears,” I warn, as if I can read her thoughts.
She lets out a terrified gasp and steps closer to me.
“We’ll get you inside but don’t go running off out here. It’s not safe.”
I locate the hidden key and push open the front door. Inside, it smells faintly of Febreze from Dane’s most recent visit. I usher her inside and lock the door behind her. It’s dark for a moment until I locate a lamp.
The cabin is small. One couch that unfolds into a bed. There’s a quaint bathroom with a shower in the corner. A table for two and a tiny kitchenette in another. While there is electricity and plumbing, there isn’t much else. Dane uses the cabin for hunting and apparently the occasional fuckfest now that he’s divorced.
She makes her way over to the couch and sits. Her head is lowered as she stares at her fingernails. With quick, jerky movements, she picks at them in a nervous manner.
With a sigh, I sit down beside her and pat her on the back. “Talk to me. I know I’m just a stranger to you but I’ve thought about you a lot since that day. The look on your face haunted me. I know he was guilty of a lot. That he got away with…”
“Everything,” she says, finishing my statement. “He got away with everything.”
I take her hand so she’ll stop destroying her nails. “Look at me.” Her eyes lift to meet mine, hope flickering in them. “Dorian is it?” She nods and I squeeze her hand. “Dorian, I am going to make sure he pays for what he’s done to you.” I use my free hand to brush along her scarred cheekbone. “He did this to you?”
She swallows and nods. “He keeps finding me. I should run away someplace far but…” Tears well in her eyes. “My dad’s grave is here and I just can’t leave him.”
Using my thumb, I swipe away the rogue tear. “I won’t let him find you again. He won’t ever hurt you as long as I have anything to say about it.” The fierce protectiveness in my tone surprises me and clearly, she’s shocked too because her eyes widen.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I don’t know.”