He’d seen the innocence in her from the start, but he’d had no idea what it meant. Now he did, and the knowledge only increased his need for her.

Rusty wasn’t used to the games men and women played. She didn’t screw around, and she didn’t give herself to just anyone. Most of all, she didn’t trust easily.

This hadn’t escaped him. Hurting her, using her—could break her.

Yet, here he was, Rusty by his side, heading to his house for dinner. If he had his way, she wouldn’t be leaving until morning. He couldn’t stop this now. Especially after last night.

The way she’d opened up to him. Said she was afraid she might disappoint him. And then, fuck, the way she’d come apart for him, wild and unrestrained. Shit.

He was taking a crazy risk letting her in, but he couldn’t turn away from this, not now. Rusty was special. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but when he was with her, he felt like a different man. And maybe with her—a better man.

For the first time in his life, maybe he could have something good, something sweet and clean and pure.

He felt the weight of her stare and glanced over at her. She looked casual and sexy in jeans and a red T-shirt that draped off one shoulder, showing a good portion of smooth colorful skin. Skin he knew would smell like the vanilla soap she used. “What’re you thinking about, Foxy?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

He grinned. “You sure you wanna know?”

She shook her head and laughed softly. “You never stop, do you?”

“Can’t. Not with you sitting close.” He reached out and rested his hand on her thigh. “You think about what we did in the car last night?”

“I thought about it.” She licked her lower lip.

Jesus.

He gave her thigh a squeeze. “Me too. All damn day. I had to stay sitting behind my desk so I didn’t give the boys the wrong idea.”

She laughed again, this time the way he loved, throwing her head back and letting go. “Oh my God, I would’ve loved to have seen that.”

He gave her another squeeze to get her attention, and she quit laughing. “I want you, Rusty, you know that. But no pressure, okay? We take this as slow as you need, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay.”

Though he hoped like hell not too slow.

His phone rang beside him, and he glanced down. His mother. Pulling over on the side of the road, he quickly answered it. “Yeah, Ma.”

He could barely hear what she was saying through her sobs, but what he did hear was his father’s name.

Then he heard the banging. The yelling.

Jesus Christ.

“You called the cops?”

“Yes, but I’m scared.”

“I’ll be right there.” He ended the call, swung the car around, and gunned it, heading back the way they’d come.

“What’s going on? Was that your mother? Is she okay?” Rusty’s voice was full of concern.

Why now? Why tonight?

His father always managed to crawl back into his life and fuck it up. Always. Looked as though the old bastard was about to do it again. “Old man’s on a bender, decided to pay her a visit. Looks like you’ll get to meet the folks.”

She remained silent, but he could feel her eyes locked on him. He knew she was taking in the change, could no doubt feel the anger and hatred pouring out of him in waves.

Maybe this was for the best. He couldn’t walk away. He knew that now. And if he didn’t, he’d only drag her down with him, down into the hell that was the reality of his fucked-up life. In some twisted way, he was pleased this was happening tonight. Before he knew what it was like to have her in his bed, how it felt to hold her while she slept, before he lost himself to her completely.

Now he wouldn’t have to push her away. She’d take one look at where he came from, see the toxic crap that ran through his veins, and run in the other direction.

It took ten minutes to reach his mother’s place, a three-bedroom condo on a quiet street. He’d bought it for her a few years ago. He’d wanted to put her in an apartment, one with decent security, but she’d hated the idea. She wanted a garden, and this place had a small patch of grass down the side where she grew vegetables. She loved that damn garden. Spent hours in the thing.

His father was currently stumbling through it, tearing it up, coming around from the back, banging on the windows as he went, screaming his mother’s name on the way to the front door.

They’d arrived before the cops, and he knew his old man well enough to know if he didn’t do something to stop him, he’d smash a window or kick the door clean off its hinges.

He turned to Rusty. “Stay here.”

She stared at him, eyes wide—shock, horror, pity, all there on her beautiful expressive face. “Do you want me to call the police again?”

He shook his head. “They’ll be here soon.”

Climbing out of the car, he approached the man who had made his life a living hell for as far back as he could remember. “What’re you doing here, old man?”

His father swung around, face red with anger and whiskey. As soon as he saw Reid, a sneer twisted his lips. “Nobody asked you to stick your fucking nose into this, boy. She’s my wife, and you have no right keeping her from me.”

Reid stared him down. “She’s not your wife anymore, remember? You need to leave, now.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you little piece of shit. I’ll see my wife whenever the fuck I like.” Then he stumbled up the steps and proceeded to bang the hell out of the front door. “Let me in, Carol. Bitch, you’ll be fucking sorry if you don’t.”

The curtain slid open, and her ashen face peered out, even with the lights out, he could see the tears streaking down her cheeks, the way she shook. He’d seen his mother cry more than he’d ever seen her smile, had heard more of her sobs than he had her laughter, and it was all because of this asshole.

Striding forward, he gripped his father’s shirt and yanked him away from the door. The bastard spun and clocked the side of his jaw. For a drunk he was quick, always had been. He went for a second shot, but Reid ducked out of the way. The momentum had his father stumbling to the side, and Reid managed to twist his arm up his back, kick his legs out from under him, and shove him to the ground.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Carol,” his father screamed. “I’ll make you bleed, bitch.”

Reid slammed his fist into his prone father’s kidney to shut him up. He deserved it, that and a whole lot more. “Shut the hell up.”

His mother had made friends in this neighborhood. This would humiliate her, take her back to a time when she’d had no one, had been too afraid to make friends. Her life had revolved around this bastard, avoiding his fists, hiding the truth from everyone around them.

His father grunted and sucked in a sharp breath. “Y-you always were a mama’s boy, weren’t you, you fucking waste of space.”

Reid ignored the insults, had heard them all before, had heard them since before he was old enough to understand what they meant.

“Son,” his father rasped. “Come on, let me up, son.”

He knew what came next. The pleading, the bargaining. “Just keep your mouth shut till the cops get here.”

“I just need some cash, and then I’ll go away. I won’t come back, you hear me? I’m just down on my luck is all. I just need a little to tide me over. Come on, boy. Help your old man out?”

“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I tell you every time you come groveling. I will never give you a damn cent. Ever. I owe you nothing.”

As always, this sent the bastard off all over again. Reid pinned him down, while he continued to yell insults and threats.

“The police are here.”

He twisted his head at the sound of Rusty’s voice. He hadn’t even seen her get out of the car. “I told you to stay put.”

She flinched at the rough edge to his voice, the way he snapped at her, but his control was shot. He’d dealt with this asshole one too many times, and the last thing he wanted or needed was an audience. An audience with big green eyes filled with goddamn pity.