6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Jemma
Kirk’s tone and face calmed, though his nostrils still flared. “Since he’s not here for me to teach a lesson, let me help you up and get those cuts taken care of before they get infected. We don’t want scars on your pretty face.”
“That’s not necessary, Kirk. I can deal with it myself.” I didn’t want his pity, and I didn’t want to appear weak in front of a man.
He rubbed a hand across his brow and let out a deep sigh. “It’s necessary in my eyes. And you can call me Sweet.”
Without asking permission, he reached down while he was talking and lifted me clear of the broken glass.
It was a thoughtful thing to do, keeping me from cutting my bare feet on the broken glass. I’d never even thought about what a predicament I was in until he got me out of it without breaking a sweat.
“Oh God! Jackson did you get cut?” I asked, suddenly remembering how he’d cuddled with me in the shards.
“No, I just got some glass stuck in my pajamas,” he replied.
“Go change right now. Be careful not to let the glass scratch you. Throw those pajamas in the trash.”
“Okay, Mom,” he answered, looking at Sweet for confirmation that it was the right thing to do.
“We’ll be fine, Jackson. I’m going to clean your mother’s cuts and make sure no glass is stuck in them,” Sweet declared.
Without another word, my son obeyed.
The way he’d turned to Sweet broke my heart. I was his mother, the one who’d done everything she could to care for him since birth, and yet it was obvious he wanted a man in his life. He seemed to need the machismo that was coming from Sweet in outrageous amounts.
“My son acts like this is your house.”
“That’s not it at all. He’s worried about you and in need of an authority figure to help him take care of you. In his eyes, I fit the description. Let me do what I can to ease his fear.” His voice was so gentle despite his size. Maybe that was why he was called Sweet.
I nodded, because damn it he was right. He offered the stability and calmness I wasn’t able to give at the moment. And if I was being honest, I was angry with myself for that. For choosing the wrong man to have a child with, for not being able to get far enough away, for not being protective and strong enough.
So many things.
“The bathroom is the first door down the hallway. I keep peroxide, cotton balls, and bandages under the sink. The tweezers are in the drawer,” I said as a peace offering.
He grinned, and my double-crossing heart did a little dance in my chest. This wasn’t good at all.
I swept the glass up while he retrieved the first aid things. By the time he returned I was back to my old self and not enthusiastic about him touching me.
He frowned at the stubborn glare on my face and ordered, “Sit wherever you’re most comfortable, preferably where the light is good so I can find all the splinters of glass.”
I chose a bar stool at the counter. It made me high enough that he wouldn’t have to bend too far from his superior height and made me feel less intimidated.
“This is gonna burn,” he warned before he began cleaning the wounds.
It did. So did the tugging he had to do with the tweezers a few times. He was careful and attentive, I had to admit. Worse, having him so close got my heart going again. His smell, so musky and delicious, caused a warmth between my legs that was most unwelcome under the circumstances.
In self-defense, I said, “This rescue doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you. I’m not a princess who pays with her body.”
His deep chuckle made me wet, which was infuriating, especially when he replied, “I need a better challenge than a defenseless woman who’s been attacked in the last hour.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m not defenseless. Don’t try anything, or you’ll find out I’m more like a cornered tiger.”
“I swear I don’t have those kinds of motives tonight. But I do insist on staying here. I can’t leave the two of you here without even a door between you and danger. He might come back and even lead his enemies to you. I’ll find a way to board up the door and stand guard in the living room so you can sleep without fear.”
Jackson returned to the room, looking between us. “Mom, will you let him do that? I was going to try, but I’m so tired and scared.”
For his sake, I couldn’t say no. “It’ll make me feel better too. Go to bed, mijo. We’re safe with Sweet.”
Jackson hugged me goodnight and then headed for Sweet too. The large man hugged him back, ruffled his hair, and gave him a fist pump before he stated, “I’ve got this. You’re off duty for the night.”
Once Jackson was gone, I felt the need to say, “I’m sorry I judged you on first sight. I can admit most of my opinions about you were wrong. You’ve done more for him in a few weeks than his father has done in twelve years, especially tonight. However, I’m not a pushover. I know there’s more to you. What’s your deal?”
Sweet looked me over more a moment as if sizing me up. “Are you sure you want to know this tonight? You’ve been through a lot.”
I pursed my lips and stood up, meaning to walk over to the couch. The stool wasn’t a comfortable place to be for the night whether I slept or not. And I doubted I would. But my body hurt, and I needed something soft.
Sweet came to me in an instant, taking my elbow and guiding me to the sofa. I gave him a side eye, wondering why he was so protective over me. He was a good-looking man but covered in tats and rippling muscles. He was a mentor for kids but supposedly not because he was mandated in court to do so.
There had to be a story there, and if he was going to be around my son, I had to at least know.
And maybe then, with the truth, my heart would remember how it was fooled before by a dangerous man. And it would stop fluttering when he touched me.
“You came to my house to rescue us when my son called. You’re staying over. You hugged my son. There’s no better night to find out than this, seeing as history with another mysterious man is what got us here.” My eyes flicked to my son’s room.
Sweet sighed and took the place on the stool where I had been sitting. I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to sit there but was grateful for the distance at the moment.
I wasn’t expecting his next words, but they rang true and explained a lot.
“The tats do mean something just like you told Jackson. I’m not an ex-con, though. These aren’t prison tats.”
Truthfully, I should have known that. My ex had plenty of those. But I said nothing, listening as the man who’d cleaned and cared for my wounds continued.
“I’m an enforcer for an MC, a motorcycle club. I protect my associates in whatever way becomes necessary. I’m lethal when I have to be, but I think you’ve already figured that much out for yourself.”
I nodded, my jaw tight. It would explain the anger. The protectiveness. He did this all the time. I wondered what necessities he’d performed in the past but at least had to admit it was different than what my ex and his associates did. They harmed others for their fix, for money...not out of necessity per se.
Sweet caught my gaze and held it. There was a silent plea there. “I don’t bring harm to anyone just for the fun of it, but I do protect the people I consider to be mine. Jackson is mine. Now you are too. I promise there’s no one better to protect him,” he swore.
Mine. That word made me shiver.
After all I’d faced I didn’t want to belong to anyone. But there was something in the way he said it that made this damn traitorous heart f mine skip a beat. I guess I was still a fool.
But I had to consider what he was saying for the sake of Jackson.
I didn’t like what he was, or what it meant. It was just another form of illegal activity, one as frightening as I’d gotten caught up in before. Yet, he didn’t act like Mitch. He was protective, not dismissive or cruel. He was kind and gentle instead of demanding. He wasn’t going to use us the way Mitch had.
I knew there was a lot more to learn, most of which I wasn’t going to like. But I felt safe with Sweet and so did Jackson.
I knew without a single doubt that when my son was with this man no harm would come to him. He’d probably give his life for my child. That made him okay in my eyes.
Or at least okay to protect my son. My guard would still be up. Maybe it always would be.
“I know what you do isn’t legal, and I’m sure there are other things about you and the MC that would freak me out. However, you’re what Jackson needs right now. So, you can remain his mentor,” I relented.
His eyes widened in surprise, but then he went back to his composed nature.
“I appreciate it. He needs you too. You’ve been strong for him in a way many others couldn’t have. Don’t discount yourself or your importance. Now, I’ll watch over things you should sleep.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he stood up and went to the bedroom only to come back with a blanket. He placed it over me just as a cold sweat took over. The shock was wearing off, and the fear was coming back.
Mitch would be back eventually.
I curled up on the couch and tried to rest, but my eyes kept landing on Sweet. It was going to be a long night.