Liberty signs where she needs to, and within twenty minutes, we’re heading down to the main lobby, Liberty in a wheelchair, me pushing her along.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t need a wheelchair, Hetch.” She’s been bitching about the damn chair the moment it was wheeled in.
“I think I’m starting to get you, Liberty Jenson,” I tell her, coming to a stop at the glass front doors.
“Oh, yeah?” She looks up as I walk around to face her.
“Yeah.” I hold out my hand, helping her to her feet. “You just like to argue for the sake of arguing. Do you get off on it, Liberty?” She’s a little wonky on her feet, so I keep a hold of her and walk her the rest of the way out to my truck.
“Whatever, Hetch. You won’t ever get me.” I don’t know if she means physically or logically. My cock would more than love to get to know her physically, but what worries me more is that my head likes the thought of logically.
“We’ll see,” is all I say as I help her up into my truck.
“No, we won’t.” Again with the arguing.
“Sweetheart, I’m already halfway there.” I watch her carefully. The soft sprinkling of freckles that she didn’t bother to cover with makeup today makes me like her a whole lot more.
“Are you ready?” She doesn’t comment on me already having her figured out, so she hides behind the uppity-snob routine she’s perfected so well.
“Yeah, you hungry?” I ask, wondering if I need to stop and pick something up for her.
“Not really. Just want to get home.” Her gaze sweeps around the poorly lit parking lot, revealing the vulnerable side she works so hard to hide. My chest tightens in anger.
The little punk is going to pay.
“Then let’s get you home, sweetheart.”
“Stop calling me sweetheart. You’re freaking me out.”
Fuck me. If I wasn’t so opposed to love, I think I could find myself falling for her.
Eight
Liberty
The ride home in Hetch’s truck is quiet. After a long and stressful night, all I want to do is close my eyes and find sleep, but I don’t want to let my guard down around Hetch. I don’t need him to see the vulnerable side of me. It’s bad enough I’m back in his vehicle, not only relying on him to get me home but now he’s in my business with Dominic, and he’s seen firsthand what I’m dealing with when it comes to Mitch.
“You doing okay over there?” His deep rumble fills the truck and pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Yep.” My reply is too chirpy, even I know it, and I wait for him to call me on it.
“Gonna get the fuckers who did this to you. Don’t worry about it,” he tells me, letting me know he knows where my head is at.
I hate he can see through my fa?ade, but at the same time, I find comfort in it. In my line of work, you always have to stay neutral, and not let your emotions drive you. Add in a family who are always on my case about the dangers of what could happen with me getting too close, I never have a chance to allow the vulnerable side to show.
In a way, it’s refreshing.
“You always get personally involved with these kids?” His interrogation turns, and it takes me a second to catch up.
“I’d do anything to help them, yeah.” He doesn’t reply right away, and it makes me wonder what he thinks about me, knowing I’m that way inclined.
“I want you to be careful, Lib. Dominic and his crew are not the type of people you want to get into trouble with.”
“You don’t think I know that, Hetch?” I turn a little too fast. Pain strikes through my head and slashes through my side, forcing me to flinch.
“Take it easy there. Are you okay?” He notices my discomfort and slows the truck down, pulling off to the shoulder of the road.
I take a minute to get myself together before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he takes the conversation back to Dominic.
“Promise me you will stop getting in his way.”
“I can’t do that. I’m gonna get in his way if he keeps messing with Mitch.” I hold his stare, daring him to fight me on this.
“What is it about this kid that has you so messed up?”
“He’s a good kid, Hetch. He’s had a tough run, and he deserves to have someone rooting for him. I’m all he has.”
“Funny, that’s what he said about you.”
“It’s the truth.” He draws a sharp breath like he’s resigning himself to the task at hand, before shifting the gear back into first and pulling back out on the road.
We don’t talk again, my heart full of something I can’t quite identify at hearing Mitch think of me as all he has. I knew I was reaching him, but this, this is more unexpected. It’s not until we pull into our apartment complex I finally break the silence.
“I promise I’ll be more careful.” I offer what I think it is he wants to hear.