Fuck. She didn’t deserve any of this. And he wasn’t going to let them bully Leah, the sweet, kind, gentle, person that she was, for another moment.
He pulled her to the left, away from the group. To his relief, she followed without protest.
Ellen protested, though. “Really, Tim, I can’t believe she’s embarrassed us this way. Of all the…” She huffed in fury.
Carter couldn’t care less about her. Leah was his priority.
They walked up the steps to the house with heads turning their way, then through the grand hallway, past modern art, the piano, and the member of staff still holding champagne at the door.
“Carter, I can’t just leave like this.”
“You can. We are.” He pulled out his keys. “Get on.” He pointed at his bike. “These people are poison. They’ll suck you dry. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
She pulled on her helmet, her feeble protest telling him she had no more desire to stay at the party than he did.
He climbed on, revved the engine, and waited for her to get settled behind him.
She did, gripping his waist and pressing close.
He revved again, then took off with a wheel spin, gravel spraying wildly into the air and peppering the Porsche as it clattered back down to earth.
Chapter Sixteen
When they arrived back at Leah’s home, she stepped silently inside and removed her shoes and thick red belt. She tossed her purse aside and sat on the sofa.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She shrugged and looked at the floor.
“Sure?” He put the Glock, his keys, and phone on the table. “Not mad? Hurt?”
“No.”
“Seriously?” He couldn’t read her, and that was a first. She should be mad as hell. Why wasn’t she?
He shrugged out of his cut and stood in front of her. “Leah.”
“What?” She didn’t look up.
“If I were you, I’d be fuming. Your father and stepmother clearly want to control your life even though you’re a grown woman.”
“I know.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s been that way for a long time.”
“So why do you let them?”
“I guess it’s a habit.”
“A habit.” He frowned and shook his head. “But…” He was struggling to find the right words. “But that isn’t you. You’re a fighter.”
“At work, for other people, yes.” She stood and walked to the wall, facing it with her back to him. “But when Mom passed, I just didn’t have the strength to argue with Pops about things. Then Ellen came along and her voice was so much louder than mine that I stopped even thinking about it.”
“You need to fight for yourself here, now.” He stepped up behind her, stared at her perfect shiny hair. “Tell them you can make your own decisions about where your life is going, who you see, what you do, and all that shit.”
“Easy for you to say.” She turned with a look of absolute defeat on her face.
It didn’t suit her.
“Why?” he asked.