Claiming the Runaway by Emma Bray
Chapter One
Hadley
My whole bodytenses up as I hear the soft opening of my bedroom door. I peek over my covers to see Randal’s form outlined in the darkness. My heart speeds up as he stumbles over to my bed, and I sit up, scooting back against the headboard.
“What are you doing in here, Randal?” I whisper frantically, panic gripping my chest. He’s drunk—again. My stepdad is a real piece of shit. He’s always been a sleazeball, but he’s been getting drunk more often lately.
I’ve been afraid something like this might happen. He’s been finding little ways to touch me more and more lately. A hand on my hip as he reaches around me in the kitchen to grab the cereal box out of the cabinet. A touch on the knee when we’re watching TV. I always find a way to leave the room when he does that, his touch making me shiver with dread and disgust.
Of course, my mom doesn’t notice. She doesn’t know where she is half the time. She stays doped up on pills. That’s all she cares about anymore. I think she might have loved me at some point. Maybe she still does in her own way, but she’s never lucid enough to talk to me or tell her sleazy husband to keep his hands off her daughter.
“Hadley,” he slurs my name as he sits down on the edge of my bed. “I came to see you, babygirl.” My mind revolts at the way he calls me babygirl.
“I’m sleeping, and you need to leave,” I try to reason with him.
“Aw, don’t be like that, babygirl,” he says leaning down over me, pinning me to the bed. I feel panic starting to rise within me when I feel a certain part of his anatomy pressing against my thigh. I almost retch when I realize what it is and that he’s turned on.
I push against his chest, but he’s so much bigger than me. Randal isn’t a small man by any means. His beer belly alone is enough to pin me to the mattress, and I feel a scream bubbling up in my throat.
This is not happening. This is not happening. My drunk stepdad is not fixing to rape me.
I know I should have left two days ago when I turned eighteen, but I was scared. I have no money, no job. I have nowhere to go. I figured I’d take my chances here until I found a job—that way I wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets.
I’m starting to think the streets might have been a better option, though.
“Dammit,” he curses, slapping a hand over my mouth, as I scream and twist underneath him, desperately trying to throw him off me.
“Be quiet you little bitch,” he hisses at me, pressing harder against me. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. Walking around this house in those tight little shorts of yours. Goddamn little cock tease.”
He raises his hips for just a moment as he tries to undo his pants, and I take the opportunity. Acting on instinct, I bring my knee up and ram it into him—hard.
He gasps in pain, his hands going down to grasp between his thighs as I slip out from under him, running toward the door.
“Hadley!” he screams. “You get your ass back here!”
I don’t know how long my kick will have him down, and I’m running off pure adrenaline, my only thought to get out of there as fast as I can, so I run out the front door and take off down the sidewalk, not taking the time to stop to put on shoes.
We live just a block from downtown. If I can make it to a business that’s open, I can slip inside long enough to get my bearings and figure out what I’m going to do.
I hazard a glance back and see Randal coming out of the door to the house, looking pissed as hell. My mother is nowhere in sight. She probably didn’t even wake up amidst all the commotion.
I redouble my efforts and turn to the left to get out of his line of sight, running into the first lit-up business I see, not even stopping to check what it is.
* * *
Damon
I lift my shot of whiskey to my lips, but before I ever take the drink, a commotion at the front of the bar draws my eyes.
I lay the untouched shot down and glance over at the girl who’s just burst through the door like the hounds of hell are nipping at her heels.
My eyes trail down her lithe frame. She’s wearing butt-hugging shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination the way they grip her juicy little ass and a form-fitting tank top that shows off a pair of perfectly pert little breasts. Hair as dark and thick as a raven’s wing cascades around her shoulders. Her chest is heaving, and I notice that her feet are bare. I frown. She looks like a scared little rabbit.
From the hoots and whistles that come from a table of drunken fools near the front of the bar, I realize I’m not the only one who’s noticed her haphazard entrance.
She ignores the catcalls and attempts to walk over to an empty table to sit down, but one of the pricks gets up and follows her.
“Hey, babe, you looking for some company?” he slurs. I can hear him all the way over here.
She shakes her head, clearly not interested.
He sits down in the booth next to her and slides close to her. She shrinks away from him, pressing herself against the wall, and I’ve seen about all that I can take. If there’s one think I can’t stand, it’s drunken assholes forcing their attentions on unwilling women.
I down my shot in one gulp, slap the shot glass back down on the counter, and walk over to where she’s sitting.
“I think she’s made it clear she’s not interested, buddy,” I tell the drunken idiot who insists on imposing himself on her.
“Hey, why don’t you mind your own—“ he begins, but then he stops mid-sentence and gulps when he looks up and sees who’s talking to him.
Yeah, I guess my reputation precedes me.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “You want to finish that sentence?”
He quickly slides out of the booth, apologizing, “No, Damon, man, I didn’t realize it was you.”
I say nothing else to him, staring at him menacingly as he scampers away back to the table where his crew sits guffawing like the morons they are.
I look back down at the girl and am almost bowled over by the most innocent-looking, sapphire blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re framed by thick, dark lashes, and my chest tightens painfully.
Jesus, I knew she was beautiful from the glimpse I’d gotten of her across the bar when she’d burst into the place, but up close, she’s nothing short of a fucking angel.
Her skin is porcelain, the cheeks tinged pink from her exertion, and her lips are sinfully full and rosy, the kind of lips that give teenage boys wet dreams.
I feel myself beginning to stiffen in my jeans just looking at her face. Fuck, this girl is a princess, and I’d love nothing more than to spoil her for all she’s worth.
I realize I’m staring at her, so I gather my wits long enough to ask her, “Do you mind if I sit?”
She shakes her head, “No.” Then, she blushes, “I mean, no, I don’t mind if you sit, that is.” Fucking adorable. She’s fucking adorable. Everything about her.
I sit in the booth across from her, smelling her scent from across the table. She smells young and sweet, like fresh berries just waiting to be plucked. I fight back a groan.
Fuck, what’s wrong with me? No female has ever affected me this way.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Hadley,” she answers.
“Hadley,” I repeat, tasting her name on my tongue. “I’m Damon.”
She nods, “So I heard from that guy. Thanks for helping me just now, by the way,” she says, tucking a strand of that long, dark hair behind her ear. My fingers itch to reach out and see if those locks are as soft and silky as they look.
“No problem,” I tell her. “Some guys are just idiots when they drink.”
She looks down, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
I frown, not liking the sadness in her tone. “What are you doing in a place like this?” I ask her.
She looks up, “Oh, um, I was just…taking a break from my walk.”
I cock my head to look pointedly under the table at her bare feet. “You always take a walk barefoot in the middle of the night?” I ask her. There’s more to her story than she’s letting on, and I’m damn sure going to get to the bottom of it.
Her face colors even more. “I—I,” she sputters before her shoulders sag and she finally admits “I was running away from something.”
“Something or someone?” I ask, already reading between the lines, and what I’m sensing has my hands fisting on the table. If someone hurt her, I’ll hunt them down and tear them limb from limb with my bare hands.
“My stepdad,” she confesses, finally looking back up at me. “He’s been drinking more lately, and he…he came into my room tonight.”
Hot anger boils through me, but I attempt to tamp it down as I ask her, “Did he hurt you?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “No, I kneed him in the balls and took off before he could really do anything.”
“Good girl,” I immediately tell her.
She pales as her eyes meet something over my shoulder. I turn to look at the door where some drunk has just stumbled in. He’s a big, pot-bellied motherfucker, but I’m still taller and bigger than him—the difference being I’m all muscle. I’d done nothing but work out in prison, trying to make myself stronger and pass the time the only way that kept me sane.
“Is that him?” I ask as I turn back to her, only to see an empty booth staring back at me.
“Fuck,” I swear under my breath as I see her heading for the back of the bar. I don’t know where she thinks she’s going, but she won’t be getting out that way.
I chase after her and catch up with her just as she’s fixing to enter the ladies’ room.
“Hey, baby, hold up,” I tell her, gently grasping her arm.
She turns to me, gasping, her eyes wide. She relaxes when she sees it’s me, and that fills me with an undeniable sense of pride that she must feel somewhat safe with me.
“I have to get out of here,” she says desperately.
While I want nothing more than to march back out there and beat her stepdad’s ass, setting her mind at ease and not losing her is more important, so I nod before wrapping my arm around her waist and steering her toward the kitchen. “Come on. I know a way out the back.”
I’m friends with the owner, so I come and go as I please, using whatever entrance I please, and no one bats an eyelash. I steer her through the kitchen and out the back door into the alley.
I lead her around the front to where my black SUV is parked and open the passenger door for her. “Get in,” I nod at the SUV.
She hesitates for only a moment before she glances back at the bar where her stepdad is probably still inside looking for her before she obeys and slides into the seat.
I shut the door behind her before walking over to the driver’s side.
I don’t know what act of fate brought us together tonight, but I vow to myself now that fucker will never get near her again. No one will ever hurt this princess again if I have anything to say about it.
* * *
Hadley
I glance over at the man in the driver’s seat. He’s huge—bigger even than Randal, but somehow I sense that he won’t hurt me.
His muscles budge underneath the sleeves of his black short-sleeved shirt. He’s wearing a silver chain around his neck along with a leather necklace too. The exposed parts of his arms are covered with ink. I wonder if his chest is tatted too.
His hair is dark and cropped close to his head. Stubble lines his jaw, casting shadows on his face.
He’s wearing jeans, and I can see how huge and muscular his thighs are in them. His legs seem to take up the entire front of the SUV.
“Where are we going?” I ask him softly. It strikes me that I should be more worried than I am. I’m in the car with a stranger, letting him take me to some unknown destination, yet I don’t feel a fraction of the fear that I felt every night living in the same house as my stepdad.
I just feel…relief. Relief to be putting some distance between me and my would-be assailant.
“My place,” he answers gruffly. “I can’t leave you out here alone with no shoes and nowhere to go.”
“What makes you think I don’t have anywhere to go?” I ask him.
He raises an eyebrow at me, his gray eyes flashing over to me knowingly. “Do you?”
I look away from him before admitting, “No.”
When I look back over at him, he’s frowning, and his hands seem to tighten on the steering wheel. “So, what were you planning on doing?”
I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just acted on fight or flight instinct, you know? I just had to get as far away from him as I could. I figured I’d figure the rest out as I went along.”
“How old are you?” he suddenly asks me.
“I turned eighteen a couple of days ago,” I answer. “I should have left then, but I’ve been looking for a job so I could afford a place to stay when I left.”
The hopelessness of my situation washes over me, and I feel a knot of anxiety form in my tummy.
“You can stay with me,” he offers.
I look at him in surprise. “I couldn’t possibly—“
He cuts me off with, “As long as you need to. I’ve got an extra bedroom.”
I look up at him, trying to gauge whether he’s serious or not or whether he’s just being nice because he feels sorry for me, but what does it matter anyway?
I look down at my bare feet that I know are cracked and bleeding. I don’t even have any shoes.
What choice do I really have?
* * *
Damon
“I was thinking about getting a roommate anyway,” I add when she’s silent. That’s not true, but I could have thought of getting one. What is true is that I have a two-bedroom apartment. It was all that had been available at the time, and I’d needed somewhere to live immediately, so I’d taken it. If it gets her to stay, that’s all that matters. Suddenly, it’s more important to me than ever that she stay with me where I can make sure she’s safe.
“Maybe just for tonight,” she concedes.
“As long as you need,” I add firmly.
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but when she finally does, she just says, “Thank you.” Her tone is genuinely grateful, and it tugs at my heart. When is the last time anyone was truly grateful for anything I had to offer?
I pull into the parking lot and kill the engine before getting out of the car and going around to open her door.
She winces when she steps from the SUV and puts weight on her feet, so I reach down and scoop her into my arms without a word. This little bunny is injured, but I’m going to take care of her now.
Her arms go around my neck as she meekly protests, “I can walk.”
“You’re hurt,” I tell her simply before settling her against my chest. Fuck, she feels so good pressed against me, and that sweet berry scent wafts up to me. I have to fight against inhaling deeply. I want to eat her up. I bet she tastes just as sweet as she fucking smells.
She weighs nothing, and I feel my cock starting to harden and press against the zipper of my jeans again as I think of how close my arm is to her barely legal pussy.
Shit, I haven’t been with a women since I got released six months ago, but I know that’s not what’s fueling my desire for her. I’m not just hard up for a quick fuck. I could have gotten that a long time ago if that’s all I’d wanted. I’d refrained from being with anyone after I got out, though, because I’d been busy rebuilding my life, making something of myself. Plus, I just wasn’t into casual sex anymore. I had two capable hands to take care of my needs with and decided if I was ever with a woman again, it would be because I wanted her—all of her.
It suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve been waiting.
I’ve been waiting for her. For Hadley. This sweet little angel I have cradled in my arms right now.
Don’t ask me how the fuck I know this. I just fucking do. Something deep inside me calls to me to protect her. To worship her.
Nothing has ever felt so right as holding her. My arms instinctively tighten around her as I carry her up the outdoor stairs to my apartment.
I set her gently down long enough to fish the key from my pocket, and then I hoist her back up into my arms to carry her across the threshold.
She doesn’t protest at all. She just lays in my arms trustingly as I carry her over to lay her on the couch.
I look down at her with her dark hair fanning out all around her, her lips full and lush, her eyes wide, and I know in that moment I’m never going to be able to let her go.