CHAPTER2
Hadley
“Hads?” Why can’t I stop thinking about him?
“Hadley?” If I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t really want to leave him last night.
“Hadley Cassidy Adair!” My head pops up at my mom’s use of my full name.
“Yeah?” I smile sweetly, like I wasn’t just lost in thought about the big man from last night. And Ashton was big. Everywhere.
“I asked how your night was? Did you have fun?” She places a plate with a warm, butter-topped chocolate chip muffin in front of me.
“It was.” I don’t realize my words are so dreamy until she catches me.
“You met a boy, did you?” She leans across the counter with her arms out as she asks. Typically, I don’t do boys. Or men for that matter. I’ve been left cold by the boys I did date once upon a time.
Picking at my food, I don’t meet her eyes. “He was all man.”
“Who was all man?” My daddy walks into the kitchen, and my lips are tight again.
He makes a beeline straight for my mom. It’s disgusting and sweet how in love they are. My dad is obsessed with Mom, and I think that’s what I want too, and that’s why I’ve never had much interest in the boys at school.
Mom’s life wasn’t easy before she met Dad, but she was around my age when they fell in love, and I’m disappointed I haven’t, I think.
An image of Ashton’s heated gaze filters into my mind, and I have to shake it.
“So?” He quirks a brow up at me.
“Uhm, no one.” The doorbell rings before he can question me further. “I’ll get it,” I say. Darting out of the kitchen, I slip on the floor and smack my head off the door as I come to a halt. “Son of a bitch,” I hiss, opening the door without checking the peephole.
“What the fuck happened?” That voice, the anger. “Are you alright, little lamb?” The tender care. My heart cramps.
“Fine,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead where I just know I’ll have a bruise later. Dammit. “What are you doing here?” I sound angry when I’m actually confused. It’s obvious how he found me; I just don’t know why.
“You need to change,” he snaps instead. My gaze lifts to catch him eye-fucking me. I’m wearing what I usually do. It’s Florida in the spring. It’s too hot to wear anything else.
“What’s wrong with what I have on, and why would I?” I wave my hands up and down my body. I’m dressed in a pair of cut-off jean shorts with a light purple tank top, cute rainbow suspenders, and my feet are bare. The essentials are covered, and the jeans don’t ride up my ass. But I’m not changing.
“Other men will stare.” He sounds annoyed.
I roll my eyes. “Ain’t nobody in this county staring at me unless they want to be eating their own dicks. Trust me, Daddy has seen to it.”
“I’m staring,” he responds, stepping inside and pulling me into his arms. Immediately his lips clasp mine, and I’m lost in the feeling that is all Ashton DeMarco. I don’t know how he does it, but with every touch of his lips, I get a little dumber.
“Get your fucking hands off of her.” My dad's angry demand is ignored, and I get a little thrill. I’ve never known anyone to ignore him. “Did you hear me, boy?” The sound of a gun cocking has me pulling away.
Ashton lets me move back, but his eyes remain glued to me. Oh, boy. He’s going to get himself into some trouble.
“I heard you; you just don’t scare me.” Big words. Bad words. Wrong words.
“Castiel,” Mom says as she comes over to me. Gripping my hand, she whispers in my ear, not so quietly either, “This him?”
“Is this who?” Dad barks before I can answer.
I shrug in response to her.
“Yeah, I’m him.” Ashton’s cocky attitude is going to get him shot. “Ashton DeMarco.” He holds out his hand for Mom to shake.
“Talia. That there is Castiel, her dad. Forgive him. He was raised without manners.” I laugh because Dad grunts as he comes closer, stepping between Mom and me. Exerting his dominance.
“I know who you are, DeMarco. What I don’t know is why you were just kissing my daughter.” I’ve never heard him sound so lethal.
“Making my intentions known, I suppose.” Ashton shrugs; his genuine lack of fear of my father is startling.
“No!” he responds. Nothing else, no explanation. Just no.
“I believe that’s her choice.”
“Sweet baby Marcus,” I mutter.
“Who the fuck is Marcus?” Both men bark at me, making me jump about a foot in the air.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I joke as I walk away from this fun little gathering to the closet where my chucks and purse are. “If you’ll excuse me from this little pow-wow, I have a meeting”—with Starbucks—“I’m gonna be late for.” I can almost taste the vanilla bean frap as I slip my shoes on and dig around for my keys.
“With who?” They both say together. Mom laughs. I glare.
Ignoring them, I slip out the door and head for my car. A pretty, black Lexus that Dad bought me for graduation. Already, I can feel Ashton behind me as I approach the vehicle, unlocking it with the fob.
“Hold on a fucking minute,” he bites out, and my entire body freezes at his demand. Jesus. Betrayed by my own damn self. Spinning me around, he doesn’t let me say or do anything as he lifts me up into his arms and pins me between his hulking frame and the SUV. “Don’t fucking walk away from me, lamb.”
He leans forward, running his nose along the column of my throat. I want so badly to melt into him, let him devour me. But I’m terrified that, like all the others, he’ll get run off, and I’ll be left to pretend my daddy, cousins, or uncles didn’t just break my heart again.
“You’re about to get shot in the back,” I tell him instead. Disregarding what my body wants is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“No, I’m not.” He’s so confident. “Despite the fact that he’s cocked and ready to blow someone’s head off, Cas ain’t gonna shoot me.”
“Why do you say that?” I need to know how he’s so sure.
“Aside from the fact the bullet could rip through me and hit you, he’s only trying to gauge my worthiness. He’s testing me. Making sure that I’m invested in you and not afraid to prove it.” Which is what I’ve always wanted.
“And what makes you think he won’t come and shoot you in your sleep?”
“Same reason. You’ll be there in my bed, and he won’t risk hurting you.” Brushing a hand up the side of my body, Ashton grips my chin, forcing me to meet his stare. “You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?” Perceptive. “They always run, don’t they?” I shrug, trying not to show how much it hurts. Always being left behind. Having the last name Adair isn’t easy. “Your father doesn’t intimidate me, and I ain’t running. I’m too fucking old to play games with you, Hadley. I’m in this for keeps.”
“I’ve heard that before.” He must not like my answer because his eyes grow stormy before his hand wraps around the back of my head, gripping my hair tightly and pulling back before capturing my lips with bruising force.
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