Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Angelica Martin stood in the middle of the office at The Cellar and did her best to get control over both her body and her emotions.
She was shaking like a leaf with adrenaline and fear.
It was a familiar feeling, but that didn’t mean she liked it or that she was used to it.
She was also freezing, and somehow, the big scary guy who’d appeared as if out of nowhere had noticed.
Her gaze flicked to the chair behind the desk, at the sweatshirt flung carelessly over the back. The one he’d told her to wear.
Telling herself she was walking over to the desk because she was cold and not because she was ordered to, Angelica picked up the cream-colored sweatshirt.
It was soft. Incredibly so. She’d never felt anything so soft in her life.
Without hesitation, she pulled it over her head and sighed in contentment when she immediately felt warmer.
And less exposed. She hated the clothes Dwayne made her wear when he forced her to accompany him to various bars.
He liked to show her off, but the shoes always hurt her feet, the skirts showed too much skin, and he always looked disappointed at her lack of cleavage when he made her wear low-cut shirts.
The sweatshirt came down past her butt, and covered almost more than the skirt. There was a red logo of some business called The Lobster Buoy on the front of the hoodie. It was decidedly cute. And the last thing she expected a man like…Whip…to own, never mind wear.
Now, his name, that fit him. It hinted at violence. It was a strong name, much like the man himself. He was muscular, tall, his arms filled with tattoos. All things that would normally make her shy away.
But instead, all Angelica wanted to do was feel his arms around her.
Which was crazy. She didn’t know the man. Had seen firsthand how violent he could be when he beat the crap out of Dwayne. Why in the world would she want to be anywhere near him?
But then again, he’d treated her with nothing but respect. And he’d been gentle. Hadn’t touched her, respected her boundaries.
The truth was, she was confused about her reaction to the bar owner.
Sighing, she slowly lowered herself to the chair, her butt at the very end of the seat, ready to spring up to defend herself if necessary.
Bringing a hand to her mouth, Angelica nibbled on a fingernail as she tried to figure out what to do.
She didn’t want to go home to the run-down rental house Dwayne had found for them, but she had nowhere else to go.
Besides, her babies were there. There was no telling what Dwayne would do to them in his anger.
And there was no doubt he was angry. Furious.
At her. Which was stupid, but not surprising.
She’d been sitting at the table, trying not to fall asleep…
and unfortunately not paying attention when one of the guys he’d been playing pool with had come over and hit on her.
Touching her leg way too intimately. Before she could explain that she hadn’t even spoken to the man, explain to Dwayne that she hadn’t encouraged his attention, her husband had gone off the rails.
Most people would expect a man to turn his ire on the person hitting on his wife, on the one touching her without permission, but Dwayne was drunk. And mean. And he took every opportunity to demean and disparage his wife.
Her arm hurt where he’d grabbed her, her gut aching where he’d kicked her, and Angelica knew from experience both places would be bruised within hours.
But it was just one more bruise on top of the many she already had.
And he was going to be even more furious when she got home than he’d been earlier.
But she had no choice.
She had to go home to protect her babies. She’d take whatever he dished out, would endure whatever she had to in order to keep them safe.
Angelica had tried to work out an exit plan more than once, but she’d slowly realized she couldn’t do it alone.
And as soon as she got to know anyone in the latest town they found themselves in, Dwayne moved them, taking away any kind of support system she’d started putting into place.
She had a little bit of money stashed in a tampon box under the bathroom sink.
A place Dwayne would never look. But it wasn’t enough to go anywhere, let alone rent an apartment.
If it was just her, she would’ve left anyway, lack of funds be damned. But she had two babies who depended on her, and getting all of them out safely was more of a logistical challenge.
Tonight, though…Dwayne’s decision to attack her in public just made it hit home that she had to leave immediately. But how? When she went home, Dwayne would be waiting. He’d hurt her. Badly. She was screwed—and terrified about what he’d do to the two most important things in her life.
By the time Angelica heard the key in the lock of the office door, she was an anxious mess.
She had to get out of here. Now. Get home before Dwayne did something he couldn’t take back.
Lord knew he’d threatened often enough. Tonight, getting beaten by Whip, was the catalyst that would send him over the edge. She knew it.
Whip entered the room looking just as intimidating and angry as he had earlier, but Angelica was too desperate to watch her tone. To be polite and demure, as Dwayne had always insisted.
“Please. I have to go home!” she blurted, shooting to her feet the moment the door was opened—then catching herself with a hand on the desk as she swayed.
“Easy, Angel. Fuck, it’s a mess in here.”
Looking around, Angelica saw that he wasn’t wrong. There were papers everywhere, trash was overflowing from the small can next to the desk, and the room was cluttered with boxes and bags that held who knew what. But she hadn’t even noticed. She didn’t care about any of that at the moment.
“I appreciate your help, but I could’ve handled him. Now he’s going to be even madder, and I have to go home.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t go home,” Whip countered with a scowl.
“You don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head.
“Then explain it to me.” He stood just inside the door, leaning on the frame and giving her space, with his arms crossed and a frown on his face.
“He’ll kill them,” Angelica whispered.
Whip instantly straightened. “Kill who? Do you have children at home?”
Angelica nodded. Then shook her head. “It’s stupid. You’re going to think I’m stupid.”
“I would never think that. Talk to me, Angel. What’s so important at home that you’d risk your life?”
“My cats,” she blurted. “I know he’s going to hurt them.
He’s threatened to before, to get me to do what he wants.
Mittens is seventeen. Going blind. She has arthritis too, and she doesn’t do much more than sleep these days.
But I’ve had her for years, way before I met Dwayne.
And Kevin is three. He was a stray I adopted when he showed up at one of the apartment complexes we used to live at, starving and covered in fleas. They’re all I have…my babies…”
Angelica risked looking up at Whip—and instinctively took a step backward.
He.
Was.
Pissed.
“You think your husband will kill your cats?”
“Yes.” She didn’t think he would, she knew it.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Angelica blinked. “Really?”
“Yes. He’s got a head start on us, so we need to get to your place now.”
His voice was low and deadly, but for some reason Angelica wasn’t scared of him.
It was a surprise that a man who looked like him seemed to care about her cats.
But she wasn’t going to question it. If he was willing to take her to the house to get Mittens and Kevin, she would keep her mouth shut and do whatever he asked.
She was well aware that most people didn’t do favors for free.
There would be a price to pay for this man’s help, a price she’d gladly pay if it meant her babies would be safe.
They didn’t deserve Dwayne’s anger. Not that she did either, but they were completely innocent, while she’d made some pretty stupid choices, which had led her to this moment in her life.
Hurrying after Whip, Angelica was confused when she entered the pool hall. It was empty. There were servers walking around picking up empty bottles and sweeping the floor, but five minutes ago, the room had been full.
“Where is everyone?” she asked as they walked quickly toward the door.
“Gone.”
She looked at her watch. “But it’s not two o’clock yet.”
“I closed early. Told my staff to get everyone the fuck out.”
“Why?” Angelica was confused.
“Because I said so.”
When Dwayne said stuff like that, it scared Angelica, but when Whip said it? It made a tingle run through her. A good tingle. A tingle she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“It’s close enough to two, and if I had to deal with one more asshole tonight I might not be able to control myself with just beating the shit out of your husband. Come on, we need to move faster.”
Angelica did her best to keep up with Whip’s long strides, but it felt as if she had to take two steps for every one of his, which wasn’t easy in the heels she was wearing. But since he was in a hurry to get to her house to save her cats, she wasn’t going to complain.
He led her toward a huge pickup truck at the edge of the lot, and she heard the locks click open as they approached.
Whip walked to the passenger side and opened the door.
Then, without asking and without warning, he wrapped his big hands around her waist and lifted her into the truck. “Feet in,” he ordered.
His hands on her waist hurt, but not because of anything he’d done. She was sore from being kicked earlier, and from all the other times Dwayne had hurt her. But beneath the throb of pain was something else. Something unfamiliar. Arousal. Those darn tingles again.
No. No, no, no, no. She was not attracted to this gruff, kind-of-mean man. Angelica had her hands full with one asshole already, she didn’t need another.