Be My Hero (Forbidden Men, #3)

Giving up the pressure I was applying to the door, I regretfully stepped back and let him enter Pick's apartment. He passed over the threshold, looking ridiculously out of place in his slick, Gucci suit. After sending a dismissive glance over the front room, he smoothed his hand over his blazer and turned to me.

I folded my arms over my chest and glared. "Do you accept payments?"

Here came the evil, calculating smile I was so used to. "Why, yes, I do. But not in monetary form."

When his gaze settled over my milk-laden breasts I couldn't keep completely hidden under my arms, I snorted. "You're still a disgusting old lecher, aren't you?"

With a sigh, he shook his head sadly, clearly disappointed in me. "And here I'd come to thank you for the gift you sent me."

"Gift?" I frowned, instantly suspicious.

"What? Don't you remember sending Patricia Garrison my way a couple months back?"

Oh, shit. My eyes flew open wide. I had no idea the rapist of Mason would actually follow my advice and approach my father. This was not good. Two evil people like that, teaming up—

"I very much appreciated the toy, sweetheart. But I'm afraid I may have broken her."

"You . . . ?" Dear God almighty, what had he done to Mrs. Garrison? Wait. I didn't care. If she was broken—whatever that meant—hopefully she was out of the way forever.

"Some ladies just can't take a little rough treatment. They certainly don't make women as hearty as you and your mother every day. Eventually, the others always give up the fight and let me have my way. But not you. Never you. I still remember the way you'd glare up at me with all that fire and spirit in your eyes and your chin held high after I bent you over—"

"Please don't tell me you're here just to reminisce because I'd rather vomit all over your pretty new shoes." In fact, I just might anyway. But hell, if I'd known being defiant when he'd molested me had only turned him on more, I would've curled up into a ball and cowered like I'd always wanted to.

My skin was cold and my nerves were strung out. I didn't know what I'd do if one of the babies woke up. I did not want this monster anywhere near Skylar or Julian.

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"I want you to come home, of course."

I snorted. "You're delusional. I'm never stepping foot in that place again."

He spread his arms and laughed. "You'd rather stay here? With the metal-faced, tattooed idiot? Really, Eva? I don't buy that."

It made my stomach churn all the harder to realize he knew who Pick was. He probably knew every secret Pick had and how to hurt him. Oh, God. What had I gotten my sweet, innocent, metal-faced, tattooed boy into?

Lifting my chin, I sneered, "Pick Ryan is a hundred times the man you could ever be."

My statement only amused him. Then it struck me how he liked it when I was bold and defiant. I instantly stepped back, scowling.

"Why do you even want me? You kicked me out remember? Because of Skylar? And what about her? Or are you still planning on trying to make me get rid of her?"

Good luck with that, old man.

He merely shrugged. "Your mother and I decided you can keep the child. At least it comes from good Worthington stock. But it turns out having a missing daughter is much more unseemly than one who gives birth young and out of wedlock. So, you're allowed to return. We'll just set you up in the room over the garage where Reese stayed, so the crying won't bother us."

"So gracious of you," I sneered. "But I respectfully decline your offer. Thank you." Then I nodded my chin toward the exit. "You may go now."

His chuckle was still amused. "Come now, darling. You can't tell me you don't miss your old lifestyle."

I shook my head. "Not even a little."

"I'll raise your allowance. Double it, even."

"Fuck. You."

"God, I've missed your dirty mouth." When he reached for me, I squeaked and jumped back.

"What're you doing? Get out!"

He prowled after me, his eyes crazed with arousal. "No one fights back like you do, Eva. I crave the way you claw and bite."

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. I was so sure I'd escaped him for good, that I'd never have to endure another one of his visits again.

That it was happening here—in the place where I'd laughed, and loved, and felt more at home than I'd ever felt anywhere—was even more traumatic.

"You'll have to hump my cold dead body before you ever touch me again. Because I will fight you until one of us is dead."

"Great." His eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure. "That's just the way I like it. It's no wonder I can never control my urges around you."

When he lunged, I skipped to the side, and then took off running. As I entered the hall, I realized I was leading him straight to the babies. I'd hoped to reach a room and slam the door in his face, hole myself up and lock him out until Pick came home. But it was too risky, so I veered into the kitchen instead.

I was going to have to give him what he wanted. I was going to have to fight.



PICK



Reese must've been looking forward to this evening just as much as I was. She was already at my place, waiting outside the front of the building with Mason when I made it home from work.