Sinful Southern Hero: 2 (13 page)

“No one will take you anywhere you don’t want to go. No one
will keep you anywhere you don’t want to stay. Never again. Not while I’m
breathing.”

Lucy wanted what he said to be true. But… “I believe
you
believe that, Dalton. But you’re just one man. One man who hasn’t known me long,
against my parents and Ross, who’ve been in my life for years, forever. If they
convince a doctor or a judge I’m crazy and in need of hospitalization or some
kind of guardianship situation, I’d be under their thumb and within Ross’ grasp.
How could you or I stop them?”

She wound her arms around Dalton’s neck, no longer trying to
get away but trying to get as close to him as possible. She pressed her nose
against the curve between his shoulder and neck, inhaling and memorizing his
scent in case this was her last opportunity. With the thought of never seeing
Dalton, never being held by him again, a knot formed in her throat and a vise
squeezed her heart.

Dalton dug a hand into her hair and pulled her tighter against
his chest with an arm around her waist. “You’re forgetting something, darlin’.
You’re not alone here, not like you were back home. You’ve got friends who care
about you, not just me, more than one person. Jed and Abigail, hell, even Dez,
they’ll fight for you too.”

“Why? They barely know me.” Lucy breathed the words against
Dalton’s neck, refusing to move from the safe shelter of his arms.

“Welcome to the South, sweetcheeks.” Lucy grumbled her
displeasure at being referred to as “sweetcheeks” and Dalton chuckled before
placing a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. “Whether they’ve known you an hour or
a lifetime doesn’t matter. They see the good in you and know the truth just
like I do.”

Lucy wanted to believe all he said but time and experience
had taught her people were unlikely to involve themselves in someone else’s problems.
Neighbors, cops in Ross’ precinct, her own parents, they all witnessed proof of
Lucy’s abuse and did nothing. For
years
. The people who had been in her
life for years either denied the truth or simply didn’t care enough to
intervene. Jed, Abigail and Dez seemed like nice enough people, but Lucy didn’t
expect them to stick their necks out for a relative stranger. Still, she nodded
as if she agreed with Dalton’s explanation.

She sat up straight, ready to confront whatever awaited her
at Hart’s Ink. Dalton hissed when her hips moved and she realized his cock,
still lodged inside her, had hardened while they spoke. She wiggled her hips
again and smiled when he growled in response.

“Woman, don’t start something we can’t finish.” Dalton
gripped her hips on a groan and gently lifted her off his lap before setting
her on her feet. The feeling of emptiness that washed over her made Lucy want
to crawl back onto his lap, onto his cock, and stay there for the rest of her
life.

She watched as Dalton rose to his feet, pulled up his boxers
and pants and tucked his still hard shaft behind his zipper with careful
movements. A shard of humor pierced her worry. He hadn’t even taken his boots
off, the jerk. Glancing down at her complete lack of clothing, she shook her
head, wondering what had happened to the insecurities and cautious actions that
had dictated her behavior for as long as she could remember.

Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed Dalton pulling on his
shirt and gathering her clothing until he knelt on one knee in front of her and
tapped her left foot with one strong finger. Lifting first her left and then
right foot while steadying herself with a hand on his broad shoulder, she
allowed him to slip her panties on and pull them into place.

As Dalton dressed her, his tender ministrations planted a
seed of hope within her heart. Maybe she did deserve to be loved and cared for.
Maybe if she took a gamble and trusted this man, trusted a friend, trusted
herself
,
she wouldn’t have a future full of running scared. She’d still have a past full
of humiliation and violence, degradation and betrayal, but maybe her past
didn’t have to dictate her future.

Dalton slipped her shirt over her head, placing his hands on
her hips before settling his gaze on her face. His sawdust, leather and clean-sweat
scent surrounded Lucy like a cocoon.

“You trusted me with your body, darlin’, now trust me enough
to help see you through this mess.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and
rested his palm on the side of her neck, his thumb stroking over the pulse on
her throat. “I’ll stay right beside you when we face your parents, if that’s
what you want. If you can’t deal or don’t want to deal with them, fuck ‘em.
I’ll take care of it and you don’t even have to breathe the same air as them.”

Lucy drew in a deep breath and let it out on a slow exhale.
Meeting his gaze, she made a decision. “We’ll do this together. It’s time I
stand up for myself without backing down or running away. As long as you’re
there with me, I can do this.”

Dalton held open the rear door to Hart’s Ink and ushered
Lucy inside with a hand on the small of her back. The ride from his house had
been silent and tense, the air in the cab of his truck thick with Lucy’s
nervous energy.

“I don’t understand why we can’t wait for Lucy inside her
office.” The haughty, feminine voice came from the direction of the lobby and
rippled down the hallway. Lucy’s body jerked as if she’d been hit.

“The office is locked and Lucy ain’t in it. You got a key?”
Jed, his voice low and rumbling, sounded slightly annoyed. “No? Then you’re
waiting out here.”

Dalton and Lucy moved toward the sound of voices. The buzz
of Abigail’s tattoo machine hummed behind the closed door of her studio as they
made their way up the hall.

“She’s our daughter,” a masculine voice—Lucy’s
father—growled in response to Jed.

Lucy stumbled a step and Dalton slid an arm around her
waist, pulling her into his side. Seeing her upset, feeling tension cause her
curvy frame to tremble, pissed him right the hell off. He’d seen some messed-up
shit in his life but this kind of betrayal, parents betraying a child by
refusing that child their trust, this was a whole new level of fucked-up.

As they neared the lobby, Dalton heard Jed snort a disgusted
laugh.

“Yeah, she’s your daughter, but she’s also a grown-ass woman
and we’re talking about her professional workspace. You make it sound like
she’s a teenage runaway.”

“You don’t know Lucy. She’s unwell. Her husband is worried,”
Lucy’s father continued.

Dalton heard the rustling of movement and entered the lobby
to find Jed pushing himself up from the stool behind the long glass counter.

In a voice stronger than he expected, Lucy broke into the
discussion. “
Ex
, Dad. Ross is my
ex
-husband. And he gave up the
right to worry about my wellbeing the first time he hit me.”

Dalton and Lucy came to a stop a few feet from where her
parents stood. Lucy’s mom wore a pale-pink pantsuit, tan heels and carried a
matching bag. Being the kind of man who didn’t care about women’s clothing, he
couldn’t say for sure, but head to toe this woman’s shit looked expensive. Her
hair was cut in a sharp bob at her jawline, smooth and shining and perfect,
like even the hair on her head was afraid to step out of line. In contrast to
her outward appearance, the woman’s eyes were rimmed with red and she trembled
as if the stress of being forced to stand in the lobby of a tattoo and piercing
parlor was too much for her to handle.

Lucy’s father’s gaze snapped to Lucy when she spoke. He was
tall and lean and would have looked impressive for his age if not for his poor
choice in clothing. The man had to be in his fifties and wore a pair of dark
jeans with the kind of fake faded lines at the crotch that looked like
whiskers, ironed and pressed to make a crisp crease down the center of each
leg. A twenty-year-old would look laughable wearing those jeans, on this man
they were ridiculous and a little sad. A button-down shirt, also ironed within
an inch of its life, and a pair of shiny loafers completed the odd outfit.

Jesus. What must it have been like, growing up in a house
with these two?

Her father’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Lucy to Dalton
then shot his gaze to Jed before settling once again on his daughter. “Your
mother and I are worried about you, too. My God, you didn’t even leave us your
forwarding address.”

“Because I didn’t want you sharing it with Ross.”

Lucy’s mother held her hands clenched together at chest
height as though praying for Lucy to see things their way. When she spoke her
voice held a note of something, desperation or hysteria, which Dalton found
disturbing. “Lucy, honey, you changed your last name, moved to another state,
you don’t call, what are we supposed to think? Now we find you
here
with…with
these
people.”

When Lucy shifted like she was about to move away from him,
Dalton banded his arm around her waist tighter and squeezed her hip to let her
know she was safe and staying right where she stood.

“I changed my name because I divorced Ross. I don’t want
anything from that asshole. Not his last name. Not his money. Certainly not his
fake concern.”

“Now wait just a minute, young lady. We know you’re not well
but we won’t allow you to spread these lies about Ross. It’s one thing to tell
your stories to us, your parents, it’s another to allow strangers to hear them.”

Up to this point, Dalton had been content to hang back and
let this play out, allowing Lucy to take the lead. Now, not so much. “How long
did Lucy live with you?” Dalton asked her father.

“What?”

“How long did Lucy live in your house?”

The man’s brows drew together, no doubt wondering where this
line of questioning was going. “She lived with us until she turned twenty.”

“Two decades. During those two decades, how many times did
Lucy throw herself down stairs to break her ribs, run into doorways to blacken
her eyes, bash her own head against the corner of a cabinet?”

Mrs. Ellingsworth’s breath caught and her eyes widened. Mr.
Ellingsworth clenched his jaw before responding. “None, that I know of. She
could have—”

Dalton interrupted. “How many times did she cut herself,
sprain her wrist or ankle or knee on purpose?” Lucy’s parents remained quiet.
Dalton took a step toward her father, getting in his space. “How many times did
she light a cigarette, press it to her own flesh, burn herself, for what? For
fun? For
attention
?”

Mrs. Ellingsworth’s eyes shone with tears and she looked at
Lucy as if this thought had never occurred to her. The look on Mr.
Ellingsworth’s face said something entirely different, something Dalton didn’t
like. At all.

“How many?” Dalton growled.

“Like I said, none that I know of but it could have happened
and we simply weren’t aware.”

“So, for two decades, she lived in your house and never did
any of those things. Then, she marries a man, confides in you that she’s being
abused and instead of believing her, the daughter who lived in your house for
two decades and never showed this kind of behavior, you believe her husband
when he says she’s mentally unstable and hurting herself. You’ve known this man
a handful of years and your daughter two decades, twenty years. Yet, instead of
believing Lucy and getting her the hell away from that asshole, you chose to
believe her husband. That’s messed up.”

“No, that’s fucked up,” Jed added with a nod of support in
Lucy’s direction.

“Far as I can see, the only crazy people here are the two of
you.” Dalton inclined his head toward Lucy’s mother and father.

“I won’t stand here and be judged by filth like you.” Mr.
Ellingsworth raked a glance over Dalton, pausing on the tattoo on his neck and
the ragged hole in the knee of his worn-out jeans.

“I’d like you both to leave.” Lucy’s words were spoken so
softly he almost missed them.

Dalton looked over his shoulder to find Lucy stepping up
beside him. She reached for his hand and squeezed it before linking their
fingers. In a stronger voice, her gaze trained and unwavering on her parents,
she repeated, “I’d like you both to leave.” When her mother tried to speak,
Lucy cut her off. “You can treat me like gum on the bottom of your shoe, call
me crazy, show me the same amount of respect you would show a slug at the
bottom of a pond, but never, ever disrespect Dalton.” She gave his hand a tug.
“This man has shown me more kindness and care in two weeks than you two gave me
during my entire life!”

“You don’t mean that,” her mother whispered at the same time
her father blustered, “That’s absurd.”

“Get. Out.” Lucy threw her free hand in the direction of the
glass door at the front of Hart’s Ink.

When neither of Lucy’s parents made a move to leave, Jed
once again straightened to his full height before walking around the counter
and stopping at Lucy’s side so she was flanked by him and Dalton. Mrs.
Ellingsworth studied this new development with the glassy eyes of a Victorian
lady about to take a fainting spell. Mr. Ellingsworth looked as if he was
sizing them up, deciding on an appropriate threat to make which would resolve
the situation to his satisfaction, regardless of what his daughter wanted.

The hum of Abigail’s machine stopped and the door to her
studio was thrown open. She stalked out first, dark curls bouncing on her
tattooed shoulders, followed by a giant of a man with long blond hair pulled
back in a ponytail and a scarred face. Abigail took her place standing next to
Jed, hands fisted on her hips and glaring at Mr. Ellingsworth. Dez moved at a
slower pace with his usual predator’s gait. He sidled up next to Dalton, arms
crossed over his chest.

Mr. Ellingsworth placed an arm around his wife’s thin
shoulders before breaking the heavy silence. “This isn’t over Lucy. We’ll
expect to hear from you.” He moved them both toward the door.

A sour feeling in the pit of Dalton’s stomach grew as he
watched Lucy’s father pull open the glass door. Something was not right with
the man.

“Oh, and Dad?” Dalton moved his attention to Lucy when she
spoke.

Her father turned his cold gaze on her over his shoulder as
he held the door for Mrs. Ellingsworth to move through.

“Give Ross a message for me.”

Dalton’s gut clenched.

“Tell him to practice his spelling. The ‘you’re’ in ‘you’re
mine’ is spelled with an apostrophe—RE. If he’s going to write in permanent
marker, at least make sure the spelling is correct. I bet he still carries that
damn expensive phone with him everywhere he goes. Spelling, I bet there’s an
app for that.”

Lucy smiled as she watched her parents shuffle out of Hart’s
Ink and onto the sidewalk. The smile was neither happy nor nice. It was hard
and mean and made Dalton want to draw her into the protection of his arms at
the same time it made him want to press her up against the wall and fuck her
until she forgot all about the idiots who raised her.

Without a word, Dez turned and headed back to Abigail’s
studio while pulling off his t-shirt to display an unfinished tattoo on his
ribcage.

“You okay?” Abigail asked Lucy in a gentle tone.

Dalton drew Lucy into the shelter of his arms as she spoke
to Abigail. “Yeah, I’m okay. Weird. Normally I’d be panicking after something
like that. Now, I’m just disappointed in them and a little sad we share the
same genes.”

* * * * *

Lucy leaned back against the solid wall of Dalton’s chest
and laid her arms over his where they rested across her stomach. She watched as
Abigail walked into her studio, this time leaving the door open. The buzz of
the tattoo machine started and the sound ignited a yearning in Lucy for her
next tattoo.

“I don’t trust your dad, and I think if anyone needs to see
the inside of a loony bin, it’s your mother.” Dalton ended his thoughts on a
sigh strong enough to ruffle Lucy’s unbound hair.

“My mom isn’t mental, she’s just…fragile. She’s always been
that way.”

Dalton growled and Lucy felt the rumbling sensation where
her back was pressed to his chest.

“It pisses me off that you’ve dealt with her craziness so
long you think it’s normal. And, no offense to you, sugar, but your dad’s a
dick. Your mom might be in denial or lost in her own world and genuinely
unaware of what’s going on, but I got the feeling your dad knows the score and
for some reason he’s siding with the asshole who regularly beat the hell out of
his daughter.”

Lucy needed to take a mental step back, regroup. Dalton’s
words made sense but she didn’t want to believe the worst of her parents. They
might not have been the best but they kept a roof over her head and food on the
table while she was growing up. If her father had any idea Ross had been
abusing her, he would have done something to help, wouldn’t he?

A vibration against her lower back made her jump before she
realized it was Dalton’s phone ringing. The phone was shoved inside a front
pocket of his jeans. She spun to face him as he retrieved it from his pocket
and checked the display. He answered the call with a curt “Yeah?”

She watched emotions flow across his face. Annoyance, anger,
worry and finally acceptance. He ended the call and shoved the phone back into
his pocket, all the while keeping his intense gaze trained on her.

“I need to get over to the construction site. Someone fucked
up an order and now we’ve got twenty grand worth of Italian goddamn marble in
the wrong color. I’ve got to figure out how to salvage this clusterfuck before
the old broad, who has been a pain in my ass since the project began and is
paying us to remodel her house, loses her mind.”

Lucy tilted her head back and gave Dalton a big, honest
grin. Amazing how he could make her smile, make her mood take a U-turn without
even trying. His dark brows drew together and he returned her grin with a
frown. She laughed and his frown turned fierce.

“I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just nice to hear
about a normal problem for a change, like mixed-up orders and ornery old
ladies. You know, you really should work on not cursing so much. Your client
might have a heart attack if you refer to this twenty-thousand dollar mix-up,
which she no doubt thinks is the end of the world, as a ‘clusterfuck’.”

Dalton’s frown disappeared and he leaned close to place a
kiss against her forehead. “I want you to stay here until I come back. Your
folks being in town tells me something is brewing and it isn’t safe for you to
be alone right now.”

When she started to argue, he quieted her protests with a
slow, deep kiss.

“Do this for me, darlin’. Even if you don’t think it’s
necessary, have mercy on me and stay here so I don’t worry. You couldn’t ask
for better protection than Jed and Dez.”