It was his kind expression that almost brought me to my knees. It was the fact he was there at all. The morning after Heath had kissed me and walked away.
He’d given up on me.
Finally.
It was all I could do to continue walking toward the man supposedly responsible for my safety.
“Polly,” he said, grinning. “I’m Duke.”
He extended his hand and I took it, smiling back because it was reflex to smile at someone who smiled at you so easily and openly. His hand was dry and warm and welcoming, just like everything about him.
I liked him.
I knew he’d be easy to be around, he wouldn’t make it hurt to breathe. To exist.
But I missed Heath physically nonetheless.
“I’m guessing you’re my next victim?” I asked, walking toward my car.
“Victim? You a serial killer?” he asked.
I smiled. “Not that I know of. But I’m wasting the time of someone who I’m guessing has much better things to do.”
He grinned, snatching my keys from my hand in a gesture that managed not to be rude and opened my door for me after unlocking it.
Heath didn’t open doors anymore. Sometimes he looked like he wanted to jam one of my fingers in one.
“Hanging out with a pretty lady who I’ve heard is crazier than her sister in all the best ways is not what I consider a waste of my time.” He winked, closing my door.
Before I knew it, the passenger door was opening, and the large man had folded himself into it. He threw a yoga mat into the back seat and two paperbacks.
“You’re riding with me?” I asked, though he’d put his seatbelt on so it was pretty obvious.
He nodded. “Heard you’re a maniac driver and I haven’t had time to head to Disney this year so I’m lookin’ forward to the thrill.”
Again, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll do my best to recreate Space Mountain.”
“All I can ask for.”
Duke had been easy all day. Offering help when needed at the homeless shelter and even volunteering to teach self-defense classes once a week when he’d talked to a couple of bruised and skinny girls who were barely out of their teens.
All of his pleasant and joking manner had disappeared when he’d finished speaking to them. I knew why. They were under the thumb of some asshole pimp who preyed on girls with bad home environments. He showed them a beautiful life for just long enough to get them committed, tied. Then he took down the façade, trapped them in an ugly life.
Not unlike how Craig had with me.
I just had people to run back to.
These girls had no one.
I’d been trying my best to help as many as I could. Using Craig’s money, I’d managed to rehome a lot of them out of state, and Jay arranged everything out of his own pocket when I’d told him about it. Wire did his thing and they disappeared. But for every girl I got out, another ended up in her place.
I knew that Rosie had a side business for people like this. That I could’ve told her, and the problem would’ve gone away with the life of the man spreading all of the violence and pain, ruining innocence along the way.
But as much as I hated seeing those girls like that, it went against everything I believed to make a call to end someone’s life.
Now Duke knew even a little bit—and those men gossiped like high school girls—I wondered how long these girls would have under the control of that ugly man.
The thought simmered at the back of my mind but disappeared for the rest of the day until I informed Duke I was meeting a friend and that he didn’t have to come.
“She has a taser, pepper spray, and brass knuckles. I’m covered with her. And it’s Friday night. Surely you’ve got something better to do.”
It was one thing having Heath follow me around. And that was uncomfortable enough. It was quite another with Duke having to stretch out his day protecting me from a threat that didn’t even exist.
“I can honestly tell you there’s nothing better than meeting a woman that owns brass knuckles,” he said seriously.
I laughed.
He came with me to the bar.
And Rain obviously drank him in as we approached.
“Seriously,” she said. “Do you know that he’s like, right there?” She held up her hand and pointed into it, in a false attempt to hide the pointing.
I smiled. That was Rain. As subtle as a two by four to the face.
“Rain, this is Duke, Duke, this is Rain,” I said.
She shook his hand. “Nice grip.” She grinned.
“Ditto,” he replied.
“You two are going to be trouble, aren’t you?” I asked.
Rain grinned. “Oh, no more than usual.”
But trouble was on its way.
And it had nothing to do with two good people.
It had to do with a lot of very bad ones.