Protect Me (The Protector Series Book 1) Page 5
Shiloh grabs my hand and tugs me inside his apartment. “Just give me a second to get dressed,” he says as he half jogs down the hall to his room.
“Why are you getting dressed?” I shout from the kitchen.
“We’re going to celebrate,” Shiloh answers. I turn around and he’s standing right behind me holding a box of tissues in one hand and the t-shirt he had been wearing in the other. He’s talking, but I’m not listening. I’m staring. At him. Without a shirt on.
I’ve seen plenty of shirtless boys. When I lived with Rick and Chelsea, I used to go to the public pool during the summers to pass the time. Seeing Shiloh is different, though. He doesn’t have abs and definitely isn’t tan, but he does have a tattoo of a red and blue dragon on his side that’s appealing…and he’s the first guy I’ve actually ever cared to look at.
“Nat? Did I lose you?” Shiloh asks, breaking me out of my trance.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask while ducking my head so he won’t see me blush.
“We can go out for pizza and ice cream before I have to pick Macie up—if you’re not busy, I mean.”
“Sure, that sounds fun. You will be putting a shirt on first, right?” I tease.
“That depends. Do you want me to put a shirt on?” he asks, taking a step closer.
“Oh, get over yourself,” I say as I push him back toward his bedroom. The sound of his laughter makes my stomach flutter.
Seconds later, he’s dressed and we are walking toward the elevator. Once we are inside the pizza place, I follow Shiloh to a booth in the back.
“Pepperoni?” he asks.
“Perfect,” I answer.
It doesn’t take long for the server to bring out a large pepperoni pizza with stuffed crust. My stomach starts growling at the sight of it. I’m still eating primarily peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Occasionally I’ll splurge on some cereal and fried chicken strips, but I’m trying to save all the money I can.
“So, what will you do now?” Shiloh asks before shoving half a piece of pizza into his mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, will you try getting into college? Getting a different job?”
I tilt my head to the side as I contemplate his question. “Honestly, I haven’t even thought about it. I wouldn’t mind going to college, but I really like working for Marty, and I enjoy hanging out with Macie.”
“But you don’t want to do that forever, do you?” he asks.
“I don’t know what I want to do,” I shrug.
“What do you like to do? I mean, what are your hobbies?”
I take a bite of pizza while I think about my hobbies. “I don’t know. When you’re in foster care and live with people that hate you, you don’t really have the luxury of developing hobbies or planning out your happily ever after,” I snap. I’m getting angry just thinking about how much of my life has been wasted doing nothing, just surviving.
“I’ve just been going through the motions for as long as I can remember, Shiloh. I’m not trying to take it out on you, but this conversation is making me realize that I don’t know who I am or who I want to be. That’s a lot to take in,” I tell him as I look down at my plate.
“You’re right, Nat. I’m sorry. This is supposed to be a fun lunch, and I’m totally blowing it,” he says with a sigh.
I nod my agreement and he opens his mouth wide in shock as he pretends to be offended.
“How about that ice cream?” he asks with a lopsided grin. I grin back at him as we stand up together. He leaves cash on the table before following me out of the restaurant. He leads me around the corner to a small store tucked between a barbershop and an electronics store. As we get closer to the entrance, I see the small, handwritten sign that tells us they serve frozen desserts and the hours the store is open.
“What’s your poison?” he asks as he holds the door to the shop open.
“I’ve never noticed this place before,” I comment as I look around. There are old barstools sitting around even older tables. The place is clean, but not anything fancy. A woman is standing behind the counter wearing a light pink apron and a matching visor.
“What can I get you two?” she asks with a sweet smile.
“Um, I’ll have rocky road in a waffle cone. One scoop, please,” I tell her.
“I’ll take my usual, Martha, and will you make one for Macie?”
“You got it, Shi,” she answers him.
I turn to look at him. He has plopped down on a barstool and is currently pulling another one closer to his side.
“You come here a lot I guess?” I ask.
“At least once a week. Mace loves it here, and Martha is really nice.”
“She seems like it. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. Maybe I can come along with you and Macie sometime,” I suggest.
“We’d like that,” he says with a smile.
When Martha brings out our ice cream cones, she stays to chat with Shiloh for a moment. She asks how Macie is and seems happy to hear I’ve replaced Lacey as her babysitter. Apparently, Lacey isn’t well-liked by many people.
When it’s time for Macie to get out of school, I tell Shiloh I’m going to go back to my apartment and nap before I come over to stay with her. He seems disappointed that I won’t be walking home with them but doesn’t say anything about it. I walk more quickly than normal, exhausted from studying so late last night.
When the elevator opens on my floor, I see a woman standing in the hallway between Shiloh’s door and mine.
“Uh, are you looking for Shiloh?” I ask the woman’s back.
She jumps at the sound of my voice and spins around quickly.
“Oh! You scared the hell out of me,” she says loudly. I recognize her from somewhere.
“I’m actually here for you, Toby,” she says with a tentative smile. I’m sure the look on my face is displaying several different emotions—confusion mostly, as well as disgust at the sound of my real name.
“What can I do for you?” I ask slowly.
“Well, could we go inside and talk? You know, so it’s more private.”
While I’m considering her request, she pulls a pair of pink glasses out of the small purse she holds on her shoulder. I realize who she is the second she slips them on: the woman from the testing center.
“Oh, yes, please come in,” I tell her as I hurriedly unlock the door.
“Does this have to do with my results?” I ask, suddenly feeling nervous. What if I didn’t really pass? What if it was a mistake?
“No, not at all. Congratulations, by the way,” she says with a sweet smile—too sweet. The nervous feeling I have is getting worse.
“If this isn’t about my test, then what is it about?” I question.
She takes a step closer to me, still wearing that awkwardly sweet smile. I make my way behind the kitchen counter in an attempt to put a barrier between us. Still, the feeling remains.
“My name is Penelope,” she mutters through clenched teeth. “Penelope Adams.”
My jaw hits the floor when I hear her say her last name. My palms start sweating and I get lightheaded.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but if you’ll just give me a chance to explain—”
“Explain? Explain what? Explain why you left me with Grandpa and then still wouldn’t take me after he died? You want me to give you a chance to explain that?” I ask angrily, my voice rising with every word.
“Toby, you have to understand: I was too young to be a mother,” she defends herself.
“My name is Nat; stop calling me that god-awful name. Did you ever think I might be too young to go into the system? Or did you even care? Gramps always told me you never cared about anyone other than yourself. He was right, wasn’t he?” I spit out.
She jerks her head back as if I’ve slapped her. Her cheeks turn red as she fumbles with her hands and shifts her weight from one foot to another.
“I think you need to leave,” I say quietly.
My heart rate picks up speed at the sound of her threat.
“You’re a minor; do you know how easy it would be to call the state and inform them of your whereabouts? They would send you straight back to your foster parents, or to a new set, who knows.” She shrugs.
“Why would you want me around now? After all these years?” I ask, bewildered.
“If I bring you with me, I can sue your father for child support,” she answers with her sweet smile.
“I’ll be eighteen in less than six months; you won’t be collecting any money after that.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, Toby. I will sue him for back child support as well. You will tell the judge some sob story about being in foster care. I’ll tell them my story about not being able to afford a child without his help. I’ll win easily and be set up for the rest of my life.” She cackles.
I flinch at the sound of my first name. I’m getting more nervous as I notice the crazed look in her eyes, but I refuse to show it. I’ll never let her know she can get to me.
“Don’t kid yourself, Penelope. You and I both know you aren’t even sure who my father is,” I quip.
She laughs at that, making me feel even more uneasy. Gramps had always told me she didn’t know who my father was. He wouldn’t lie about that; I know he wouldn’t. She begins digging around in her purse, still laughing quietly to herself. When I see what she pulls out, I’m certain my face now shows nothing but fear. I start sweating and my mouth starts pooling with saliva like it does right before I puke.
“Wh-what are you doing with that syringe?” I ask, sounding hoarse.
She smiles sweetly at me before taking a step forward, then another. She‘s behind the kitchen counter with me before I have a chance to run.
“All I need is one sample, just one tube of your blood. Then, I’ll send it off for paternity testing along with the four other tubes I’ve taken from the men that could possibly be your father.”
“What in the—” I’m interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Heya, Nat! Let me in, I want to give you a hug for passing your test,” I hear Macie say in her excited voice.
“You’re not opening the door until I get my sample,” my mother grinds out.
“Just a second, Macie,” I call out shakily.
While I’m distracted, Penelope snatches my wrist and holds it tight. “If you move, this will hurt worse,” she tells me.
I believe her, so I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the pain. I let out a yelp when she jabs the needle into the bend of my elbow.
“Nat? You in there?” Shiloh asks through the door. I want to answer him, but I can barely breathe. She’s moving the needle around in my arm in all different directions. I feel sweat running down my back and my vision is blurring. My mother curses under her breath several times before muttering something that makes me think she is in the right spot, finally.
“What the hell are you doing to her?” Shiloh booms as he runs across the room to us.
He puts his hand on my mother’s back firmly. “Drop it,” he orders. I look her in the eye and wait for her reaction. She’s pissed at first, but her face quickly crumples with pain. “Ouch!” she cries as she jerks the needle from my arm and presses her hand to the crook of her elbow. She pulls the sleeve of her shirt up to inspect her perfectly normal arm.
“What did you do to me? How did you do that?” she asks, turning her gaze on Shiloh. He takes a step back and glares at her.
“It’s time for you to leave,” he says in a deep voice. They stare at each other for several seconds. Penelope gasps and puts her hand over her mouth before running out of my apartment.
I don’t move until I hear the elevator doors closing. I let out a long breath, trying to slow my heart rate.
“Are you all right?” Shiloh asks.
“Did you kick my door in?” I ask, not taking my eyes away from my apartment door, which is now wide open with wood splintering away from the frame.
“I’ll fix it. You’re bleeding. Let me help,” he says softly as he holds a rag to my arm where the skin has been punctured.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“My mom. My real mom.”
“What was she trying to do to you?”
“She was trying to take my blood for a paternity test. Did she get any of it?” I ask nervously.
“There was a little in the syringe she was holding, but I doubt it’s enough to do any kind of testing.”
I nod so he will know I heard him, but I’m not sure I believe him.
“You’re still shaking. Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks again.
“I’m fine. I want to take a shower,” I tell him as I start walking down the hall toward my bathroom.
“Hey, I’m not leaving you here alone with the door like that,” he calls after me.
I turn around and start walking straight at him. “Why are you here, Shiloh? How did you know to kick the door in? And how did you get her to leave?” I ask loudly.
“I heard you through the door. It sounded like you were crying.” He won’t look me in the eyes. He keeps glancing around the room nervously.
“How did you get her to stop hurting me?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
“What do you mean? You saw me. I told her to stop and she did,” he says, sounding exasperated.
“You’re a liar. I know you did something to her just like you did to Declan.”
I take another step toward him and study his face, waiting for him to tell me the truth, even though I’m not sure I’ll believe him when he does.
He doesn’t say anything. He slowly shakes his head and eyes me warily before exiting my apartment.
Shiloh
“Thanks, Guy. I’ll pay for it along with my rent next week,” I tell the building owner as he finishes putting Nat’s new door on. I hear her click the lock into place as soon as the door is shut. It took Guy three hours to fix the door, and Nat didn’t so much as look at me the entire time.
I know she’ll be coming over in a couple hours to stay with Macie. I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of an explanation to give her, but nothing but the truth will suffice. I want to tell her, but I know I can’t. If people knew about me, they could use it against me or Macie, and I’m not willing to risk that. I trust Nat, but I can’t risk sharing such mind-blowing information with her.
“Why can’t we just tell her?” Macie asks. She’s sitting at the kitchen table drawing while I do the dishes from dinner.
“You know why, Mace. It’s too dangerous. I need you to promise me you won’t tell her. Okay?”
“Fine,” she grumbles.
“Hey, you can’t get mad at me, too. Then who will I have to talk to?” I tease her.
“I’m not mad at you, Shi. I just really don’t want Nat to leave us.”
I know she’s really worried about this. Everyone else has left her, so why would Nat be any different? Seeing the solemn look on her face feels like a punch to my gut, but I don’t let it show.
“I’ll talk to her,” I promise.
She pushes her chair away from the table and makes her way over to me. Her tiny arms wrap around my waist and squeeze. “Love you, bubba,” she tells me softly.
I’m about to tell her I love her, too, when there is a light knock on the door.
Macie runs to open it while I dry my hands.
“Nat!” I hear her squeal.
“Hello, pretty girl. How was school today?” Nat asks her. I smile at the small compliment she gives my sister. She doesn’t realize that to Macie, there is no such thing as a small compliment.
“It was fine. Come to the kitchen! I made something for you.”
I lean against the counter as they both come into view. Macie grabs the piece of paper she was drawing on and hands it to Nat.
Nat’s smile grows wide as she looks at the picture. “I love it, Macie. This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” she says honestly. I wince a little because I know she’s probably telling the truth. The thought of her not having everything she’s ever needed or wanted physically hurts me. She deserves so much more than the hand she’s been dealt.
She gives Macie a tight hug and softly kisses the top of her head. For a girl who’s never been shown how to love, she really is good at it, I think to myself.
“You’re early,” I say, interrupting their moment.
“Well, I thought I would braid Macie’s hair for her before she went to bed,” she says without taking her eyes off of Macie.
Macie’s excited squeal causes me to cover my ears. “You have to take a shower first,” I call out over her noise.
“I’m going to take one right now,” she says excitedly as she skips down the hall. “Can you do the French braided pigtails again?” she yells from the bathroom.
Nat laughs before yelling back to let her know that she will indeed do the French braided pigtails.
I smile at the sound of her laughing. When she sees the smile on my face she abruptly stops and looks away from me.
“Can we talk?” I ask her.
“That depends. Are you going to lie to me some more?”
Touché.
I pull out a chair at the kitchen table and sit in it, hoping she will follow suit. She doesn’t. Why did I think she would?
“I’m not going to lie to you, Nat. Will you please just sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
She sits, making it obvious that she’s reluctant to do so.
“So, talk,” she insists, crossing her arms over her chest.
I take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m not going to lie to you, but I’m not telling you the truth either. I can’t, or I would. Believe me.”
She’s still glaring at me, but I take it as a good sign that she’s not leaving.
“It could put Macie in danger, Nat. That’s why I won’t tell you the truth. You’re just going to have to trust me. Can you do that?” I ask, eyeing her warily.
She nods slowly. I smile and stand to make my way over to her, but I don’t take a single step before I’m doubling over in pain. “Agh!” I hiss, clutching at my side.