Addicted

They hustled me outside, and my mother walked up, trying to explain everything to them. Valentine pulled her back and walked with her to the house before looking over her shoulder at me.

"I'm okay," I called out to her and winked. Val was nothing like I expected. I was in far more trouble than I imagined possible.

Chapter 17

Val

I sat down across from Tate's mother and let out a long sigh. I'd been in a few odd situations, but nothing like the one I'd just gone through. When she had come out of the house crying, my first inclination was to pull her into my arms.

She'd tried to explain what had happened, but something inside of me broke open, and I didn't care about anything but helping Tate get out of there, too. The baseball bat was sitting by the couch as I made my way down the hall, and from that moment on, I simply acted on instinct. Now that it was over and the cops had Tate's mother's boyfriend with them, I was suddenly exhausted.

"He's a good boy. He just loves me and wants to protect me. To save me – or all of us, really," the pretty older woman across me from spoke up.

"I like that about him." My heart fluttered in my chest as I glanced around the small kitchen. It was dilapidated to some degree, but it was homey and smelled like vanilla.

"He seems quite taken with you, too. He rarely brings anyone out to the house. I think it's because of us being poor." She laughed, but the sound fell flat. There was nothing funny about it.

"I don't take anyone home, either." I shrugged as I shared my own situation. "My parents are horrible and usually leave me feeling like I'm nothing by the time I leave. They don't care who's there to witness it, either."

Tate walked in as we both stiffened, like we were caught in the middle of something.

"You girls okay?" He glanced from me to his mother.

"Yeah, I think we're okay." I got up and moved to stand in front of him. "You?"

My eyes moved across him as I tried to assess if he were hurt. Everyone happened too damn fast to figure out what really went down.

"I'm good. I'm so sorry, Val." He reached out and touched the side of my face as sadness brushed across his. "I told you it was going to be bad."

"It's my fault." His mother let out a long sigh before getting up from the table.

We turned to watch her as she pulled a few things from the fridge. "You guys go hang out in the living room and talk. I'll warm up something good for dinner."

"You wanna stay? I can take you back home if you want. I know this has probably been too much." He looked over at me. A part of the tough guy had softened, and I wanted to stay to see where the night led.

"I'm good. I can go home after a while, but I think I would feel better hanging out with you, if that's cool?" I slipped my hands into my pockets and turned to face him again. He was handsome and rugged, so intimidating in appearance, but there was a softie under all of it. I'd seen that part of him and honestly wanted to see it again.

It was insanely inappropriate standing there in the kitchen, but I couldn't help but wonder how he was in the bedroom – if he was sweet and caring or rough and demanding.

"Yeah, that's cool." He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "You shouldn't have come in this house, you hard-headed thing."

"He would have stabbed you if I hadn't. A thank you would go over well." I smiled a

nd pulled from him before walking into his tiny living room. There was only one couch and no TV. The pictures on the wall were all of him, and I couldn't help but walk around and look at each of them.

"Oh shit," he growled as he stopped beside me. "Come on, let's go outside for a little while. You don't need to look at these."

"What if I want to?" I looked over at him. My gaze shifted down to his lips and back up to his strong gaze. Mesmerizing.

"Then look at all of them. I'm having a hard time denying you anything." He reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ears. "You're a tough cookie. You know that?"

"I'm learning new things about myself all the time." I turned back to the pictures and tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. With him not wanting to deny me anything, I wanted to ask for everything.

"Tell me something about you. I want to know everything." He moved in behind me and slid his hands up my arms to my shoulders, stopping them on either side of my neck. "You like massages?"

"If it gets your hands on me, then yes." I turned and smirked as he chuckled.

"And, where did you learn to swing a bat like that?" He moved my hair from one side of my neck, and every muscle in my body tightened as he leaned down and pressed his lips to my skin.