“Why?” he asked softly.
She went on as if she hadn’t heard.
“My father worked in a local factory and was injured and disabled as a result. Workman’s comp refused to pay, citing some ridiculous, trumped-up loophole that I still don’t understand. But he couldn’t work as a result. My mother also has health issues. My father was our only means of support. I could have gone to college,” she said wistfully. “I was a good student. I qualified for an academic scholarship to a state university, before I had to drop out. But Mama and Papa needed me.”
Drake’s lips tightened as some of the pieces fell into place. It was suddenly making a lot more sense than it had a few minutes earlier.
“I was working two jobs at home and they were barely making it,” she said, shame shadowing her gaze.
Most notably absent from her statement was how she had made it, because he already knew enough about her present circumstances to know that she would have given every penny to her parents, only keeping enough for her bare necessities. And they were very bare.
“Steph, one of my current roommates—she and my other roommates, we all went to high school together and we stayed in touch. They moved to the city. They wanted out of our small town. Wanted bigger and better. I don’t blame them. But I had a responsibility,” she said, her chin notching upward, fire entering her eyes. “My family is my only responsibility—my priority before all else. I will not fail them.
“Anyway, she called me and said they were a roommate short and they could get me a job making better money, good tips, and they had a small apartment that wouldn’t break the bank with my share of the rent. So I moved up here and I send money back to my parents every week. I pay my portion of the rent, utilities and groceries, but every spare penny goes to my mother so she can care for my father.”
Drake was growing angrier by the minute. His entire jaw ached because it was clamped shut against the tirade that was just waiting to be unleashed. He wanted to end this farce immediately and take over, but he needed to know what he was up against. Every single detail.
“When I can, I take extra shifts,” she explained. “If I’m lucky, during the holidays, I can get seasonal part-time work, which enables me to send all of that extra to my mom.”
“And in the meantime you work yourself to the bone. You go without. You put yourself in unimaginable danger, not to mention work a demeaning job where men assume your body is theirs to do with as they please.”
Her gaze flew upward at the whiplike anger in his tone, and genuine puzzlement shone in her beautiful eyes.
“This shit is over,” he bit out. “You need a keeper. Someone to take care of you for once in your life. You’re moving in with me. You’re finished working yourself to death in a place where men put their hands on you, maul you, say shit to you no man should ever say to another woman. Furthermore, your parents will have no financial worries any longer. And neither will you.”
Her mouth gaped open and her gaze turned incredulous as she stared back at him as if to determine whether he was serious. He returned her gaze unflinchingly, telling her without words that he was serious as a heart attack.
“Are you crazy?” she shouted. “You can’t just tell me I’m moving in with you like it’s a foregone conclusion.”
“It is,” he said calmly.
“The hell it is! You’re . . . you’re out of your mind!” she sputtered, throwing her hands up like she wanted to yank her hair out with frustration. Then she shook her head adamantly. “You can’t just keep me prisoner!”
He smiled and responded in a lazy drawl. “Can’t I? But, Angel, I can assure you, as far as prisoners go? There will never exist a more pampered, spoiled and indulged captive. And I can guarantee you won’t be trying to escape after you’ve had a taste of all I can give you. And just a warning, Angel. I give a lot. Everything. But I take every bit as much as I give.”
“This is crazy,” she whispered. “What exactly do I tell my friends? My girls? My family? I can’t just disappear off the face of the earth. They’ll go crazy. And I can’t leave my roommates hanging. They can’t afford the apartment without my share of the rent. I don’t make much, but neither do they and it’s a stretch to afford a two-bedroom even between four people.”
“Your girls will be taken care of. Their rent will be paid so your absence won’t cause them any hardship.”
Her lips drew into a mutinous line. “No. I won’t let you do that. You can’t buy me. Or my friends. You aren’t paying me for sex. God, that would make me a whore! A prostitute. How could I look at myself in the mirror every morning knowing I’m some man’s plaything. A paid plaything.”