I sighed.
Hell, she screamed things that made me want to scream myself.
Not in a good way either.
Someone had hurt her, and that, in turn, made me want to hurt somebody else.
Was that what she’d thought I’d see on her resume?
I’d accessed the files on her past, the routine security check all employees—permanent and temporary—went through hadn’t screamed anything. The basic screening showed no convictions, no arrests; hell, not even a parking ticket. She was normal. Every part of her. And yet, I knew.
I’d been around women too much in my life not to have seen that look on their face.
There’d been my sister’s best friend, Janie, who’d been mauled by one of the dealers in our building. My next door neighbor and her daughter had shared a similar fate, but by the mother’s pimp. Some days, it felt like only my sister and mother had been safe and I knew that was because of the size both me and my brother shared. Anyone messed with them, they messed with us. That had kept my family safe, but even though I’d tried to help and protect those around me, I couldn’t protect every woman against the male race.
It had hurt me then, that lack, and it hurt me now.
Jessica, like countless women before her, knew. She knew what it was like to have her choice ripped away from her, knew what it was like to fear half the male population. She knew that, when push came to shove, she could be attacked a
nd could be hurt and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone would do about it.
My throat felt thick at the thought, and I sucked down a shaky breath even as I lifted my arm and waved at her as I headed towards her.
“You didn’t have to wait on me. I’d have come to your door.” My tone was bland, but that I’d remarked upon it at all had her shooting me a wary glance.
“No worries,” she said brightly, but again, she stared at me from the corner of her eye as we huddled into our coats and rushed against the bracing chill.
I quickly opened the car door when we approached the vehicle, letting her duck in and then swiftly climbing in after her.
My move surprised her. She chuckled as she moved down the seat, stopping when she was behind the driver and not the passenger seat.
“It was too cold to go around the car,” I complained with a sheepish grin. It was dark out, but the yellow-orange fluorescent lights peered in through the windows and I could see her smile back at me.
“It takes a long time to get used to the cold here,” she excused. “I’ll assume you’re not from here?” The question came on the back of Mackenzie snorting.
If I’m being honest, it pissed me off that she was relieved to have someone in the car with me. But, equally, if it helped her relax, who was I to complain? And Mackenzie had a way about him that made everyone relax.
“Boy’s been here for nearly fifteen years, ma’am. If he ain’t used to the cold now, he ain’t never going to be.”
Jessica laughed. “I fear he’s right. Where are you from?”
“You didn’t google me?” I asked, mocking outrage as the car took off.
Her lips twitched. “I managed to beat back my curiosity.”
“More’s the pity.” I winked at her. “You’d have found out a lot of interesting stuff.” And some less interesting things that were probably working for me when it came to her not having looked me up online.
Not that I’d done anything that bad, but hell, the gossip rags always did vilify a man if he dared to have a social life.
The first time I’d hit the Forbes front cover, I’d been unprepared for the sudden spotlight of attention that had focused on me. Sure, I’d been advised things would ‘alter’ slightly, and that I might have to increase security. But, overnight, I’d turned into a weird kind of star and every event I’d attended, suddenly, I’d had a gaggle of women hovering around me.
I’d become a millionaire three months before I hit my twentieth birthday , and had hit my first billion at twenty-nine. Twice, I’d hit Forbes. The first time for being a rich kid under twenty, and the second, for hitting a billion before I turned thirty.
At nineteen, still sweating around women and worrying about random hard-ons, to be surrounded by the afore-mentioned gaggle had been both heaven and hell.
I’d… well, I’d taken advantage of my situation, and the papers had doomed me as the ‘software, hardcore playboy.’ I mean, what did that even mean?
It made no sense and yet, that tag had been following me around for the past seventeen damn years.