Not dead.
Sleeping. Sleeping in the car. All these nights… all this time they’d been…
Homeless.
They were homeless.
I looked closer at the car. It was packed, though not dirty. Duffle bags. Books. My heart twisted when I saw one of the coloring books I’d gotten Paton tucked into the blankets with her.
Had I even bothered to check her address when I hired her? Had I bothered to ask where they stayed? I’d imagined it often enough, picturing her sleeping in a soft bed, wearing next to nothing. Maybe something lacy that barely covered any of her beauty.
I’d been too busy thinking with my dick to realize they were in trouble.
So, there it was. Now I hated myself even more. I was a bastard. And God knows what could have happened to them while I was worried about my fucking feelings.
This. Ends. Now.
I rapped on the glass gently. Michelle’s eyes opened. She looked terrified. Then she saw me.
Shame. Worry. Pain.
That’s what I saw on her beautiful face. My self-loathing kicked up another notch. She held a finger to her lips and I nodded.
She got out of the car and walked ten feet away. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach protectively.
I followed, doing my best to keep my fury in check. I couldn’t speak. I was too damn angry.
Angry at her for not asking for help.
But mostly angry at myself for being so fucking stupid.
She wouldn’t even look at me.
“The motel was full.”
My jaw clenched but I didn’t say anything.
“We’re getting a place. They just wanted at least a month of pay stubs.”
She glanced up at me fearfully and I forced myself to nod.
“We didn’t have anyplace else to go.”
I exhaled sharply. She had me. She had a place to go.
But maybe she didn’t know that. How could she after the way I’d tried to hold her at arm’s length?
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“I’m taking you guys home. We can talk there.”
She chewed her lip and my lust reared it’s ugly head. I felt like a pig. I was responsible for them. I had been all along. If I hadn’t been such a lecherous bastard, I would have realized what was going on.
“We can talk now.”
“No.”
I need time to calm down. She already looked shaken up. I didn’t want to yell at her.
“Give me your phone.”
She pulled it from her pocket. It was old. Beat up, like her car and her coat and her shoes. I was a damn fool.
I texted myself and handed her phone back.
“Follow me.”
She stared at me, her eyes wide.
“Mason…”
“Follow me, Michelle.”
I waited for her nod. Then I turned and walked away. I stopped, and looked back at her.
“Do not even think about running off on me.”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“I will find you if you do.”
“I won’t.”
I nodded and climbed back into my truck and turned around so I was in front of them, heading towards home. I waited as she woke Paton and strapped her into the front seat.
I drove home slowly, though my foot felt like it was made of lead. I wanted to race home and deal with this. I wanted this situation solved.
I wanted to know that they were safe under my roof and would stay that way.
Forever.
But I was so angry. The anger mixed with my twisted lust, and sorrow. I put my hand on Besos again and felt my pulse begin to slow. I would remain calm. I would take care of this. It was going to be okay.
No one would ever make them sleep in a car again.
I was grim faced when I parked in front of my house on the curb. I stepped out and waved them into the driveway. Then I boxed them in. I was taking no chances.
Michelle’s lovely face was pale when she got out of the car. She looked worried. Embarrassed.
Well, I was going to put a stop to that as well.
I forced a smile for Paton as I grabbed their bags from the backseat.
“What are you do-doing?”
Michelle was so nervous she nearly stuttered. The soft sound of her voice tore through me like a knife. This precious woman had needed me and I’d nearly failed her. Never again.
“How about pancakes?”
Paton nodded happily, clutching her coloring book in her hand.
“Can I bring this too?”
“Of course.”
I opened the side door and held it open. Michelle gave me a quick searching look before stepping inside. Paton had no such reservations. She squealed when she saw Besos run in behind me. The dog promptly covered her face with sloppy kisses.
“It’s alright, he’s not a biter.”
Michelle let out a little sigh of relief. I had known, even without seeing her face, exactly what she’d been thinking.
“The cats don’t bite either, unless you rub their bellies wrong.”
Paton’s sweet little face scrunched up from where she was kneeling on the floor with Besos.