One Dance for Case (Possessed 2)

Her grip was so strong on Casey’s neck that he was barely able to look at him. “Who are you?” he challenged.

“Woo, man, calm down.” She heard Devin but couldn’t see the boy. “She’s a nice lady. Was just checkin’ she’s all right is all, man.”

She felt Casey relax slightly at his words. “I don’t know,” he answered, her pain echoed in his voice. She wanted to speak, but the sobs wracked her entire body and left her breathless. She couldn’t find her voice even if she wanted to tell him what happened.

“Was it Marcus again, Evie?” Her entire body froze and tensed at Devin’s question.

Casey clearly felt the change in her. “Marcus?” She buried deeper into his neck, flinching when he said the name. “Who the fuck is that?” he demanded to know.

She could feel the weight of their stares as Case waited for an answer she wasn’t prepared to give.

Devin, however, didn’t feel the same way. “Her sister’s pimp and drug dealer.” The revulsion in the boy’s voice was unmistakeable. “He’s had a hard-on for Miss Evie since he started coming around.”

“That so?” Case asked, nudging her with his shoulder, probably trying to get her to look at him.

“He’s hit her.” Devin was apparently ready to sing like a canary, “A few times.”

“Evelyn?” Case was asking for the truth. A truth she wasn’t ready to admit to. “When’s the last time?” he finally asked Devin.

“Ahh, shit, it’s more like when doesn’t he? She tells him to leave her alone, he hits. She back talks him, he hits. She doesn’t come home– “

“Yeah, I get the fucking picture.” So much menace in Case’s voice. She was terrified of what he would do if he ever got ahold of Marcus. “When’s the last time you saw him?” he asked Devin.

Laughter met his words. “That punk was hauled off to jail yesterday. Brings too many drugs to our streets. ‘Bout time he pays the price.”

“What’s he charged with?” Case inquired.

“Pandering sex, solicitation of cocaine. Probably get a felony charge on that one, too.”

“Where’s your sister, Ev? Your nephew?” She shook her head. She didn’t know.

When she came home from the club the day before, they’d been gone. All their stuff, no note, nothing. They’d just left. She was afraid of where and what happened; her nephew was just two. He didn’t deserve the life he’d been given.

“Thanks, man,” she heard Case say to Devin. His hand left her body, and she had this unnatural fear that he was leaving her. She wrapped herself tighter, twisted her legs into his and screamed, but the sound actually came out as a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t leave me, Casey.”

Her tears poured down her face again. She was like a leaky faucet that just wouldn’t shut off and felt like crap because of it. Tired of the crying and the uncertainty, her body sagged against his when he told her, “I’m never fucking leaving you again, Kitten.”

Seeing Ev’s haggard look when she exited her building had Casey’s heart in his throat with fear. Terror and panic rolled off of her in waves, and he felt it as though it were his own. Leaving her that day had obviously been the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

When he held her and her tears immediately began to fall followed by her body shaking so intensely, he had to balance himself on his truck. He feared the worst. He wasn’t sure what that was yet, but he sure as shit was scared to death by it. He was glad her neighbor had approached them. He liked that she had someone genuinely trying to look out for her.

Nonetheless, what he found out had him seeing red. He could picture this Marcus character’s blood staining his hands, flowing in rivulets down the street before he would be done with him. First, he had to find out where he was being held and exactly what he’d done to Ev.

Someone was going to pay for her stark fear. The way she clung to him, begging him not to leave her cracked his scarred heart wide open for her.

“Come on, baby, get in. I’m taking you home.” At least, he hoped he still had a home. Decking his best friend wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he figured if anyone understood his ragged emotions, it would be Dom.

The way she looked up at him worried him. Exhaustion etched every line of her face, and sadness overruled the sparkle in her eyes. Buckling her in, he ran around the front of the truck sliding into the driver’s seat, and they were off to the farm.

It was only a few minutes on the road, and Ev was unbuckling her seat belt, pushing up the center console, and curling up into a tiny, shaking ball at his side. Her head was on his lap, and her knees were pushed up to her chest to make herself as small as possible. Her little hands clutched his leg like a lifeline, almost as if she were afraid he was going to leave her.

He’d never regretted something as much as he did for not fighting against himself to show her the real him. For chickening out when she was finally opening up. Now they’d swapped roles. She was completely shut down, traumatized from God knows what, and he was in for the fight of his life to get her tell him what had happened.

“Tell me a story,” she whispered, her voice dried out from crying. She sounded so fucking tired.

Rubbing his free hand up and down her arm in a slow, soothing motion, he asked her, “What kind of story?” He just wanted to get her talking.

“Anything.”