Читать книгу A Chance in the Night - Kimberly Meter Van - Страница 12

SKYE FELT EYES ON HER and just as she’d popped her finger in her mouth to suck off the mustard that had dripped from her hot dog, she locked eyes with the man who’d quite literally saved her life.

Sweeps of unruly brown hair ruffled in the breeze curling around the park, the sunlight picking up the subtle golden highlights and accentuating blue eyes that made her think of cool seaside mornings and crisp outdoor days. She pulled her finger from her mouth and looked away. What were the odds in a city crowded with people that she’d run into this man?

“Hey, lady, you’re holding up the line,” the surly hot dog vendor said, cranky and annoyed. “Keep it movin’. I ain’t standing here for my health, you know!”

She risked a short glance at the man again before clasping Nico’s hand and walking away with a murmured apology to the vendor.

“Mama? Are you okay?” Nico asked, looking up at her with a frown on his beloved face.

She smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I was just surprised is all. I thought I knew that man from some-where but I think I was wrong. C’mon, sweetie, let’s find a spot where we can eat these dogs.”

Nico seemed content with her answer and quickly forgot as he ate his hot dog. “Mama, I love the park,” he announced, a mustard smear on his cheek that she wiped away with her napkin. “Can we come back tomorrow?”

“I don’t know…maybe,” she hedged, although an unhappy knot twisted her stomach. Belleni refused to keep to a visitation schedule, partly she was sure to keep her tethered and partly because he couldn’t be bothered with something he considered so trivial. Never mind that she lived and breathed for the opportunity to spend time with her son. Nico’s expression fell and she sighed, giving in. “If it’s not raining or snowing, perhaps Belleni wouldn’t mind,” she said, pleased when Nico grinned. Her son’s happiness meant the world to her. She’d risk whatever she had to, to lessen the effects of such an unusual living arrangement for Nico.

“And can we have another hot dog?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered, leaning forward to kiss him on the nose. “Now, eat up, so you can ride the swings.”

She kept her smile but on the inside she trembled with a growing sense of urgency to get away from Belleni. Two months ago she’d been on the verge of escape. But that all came crashing down the day Belleni called her to his home.

“Hello, darling,” Belleni had said, his voice deceptively mild as she’d entered his sprawling office with its imported Roberto Cavalli rugs and fine-grained, hand-carved mahogany furnishings that cost more than most people saw in a lifetime. At one time she’d been awed by his display of wealth, his obvious fine tastes reflected in the works of art hanging on the walls and the opulence of his home but that was before she’d realized how he consumed lives to pay for his lifestyle. Now it just turned her stomach.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, nerves stretched thin at the request. At first she’d thought he wanted sex—and though the thought of that man touching her body made her quake with disgust—she’d endure to keep up appearances.

But that wasn’t his intent and she should’ve known when she saw Vivian standing beside him, her eyes aglow with barely concealed glee that something far worse was coming her way.

“Aren’t you happy being a Belleni girl?” he asked, throwing her. “Do I not see to your every need?”

“Y-yes,” she said, her gaze darting to Vivian, uneasy at the questions he was asking. “Of course. I’m quite happy,” she lied.

“I want to believe that, I truly do, but something troubles me,” he said with a heavy sigh, his solid body rippling with the motion. He pulled a small slip of paper and gazed at it a long moment, his mouth pursing with displeasure and her blood chilled as she realized what he was staring at.

An ATM slip. Her mind tripped over possibilities. Had she been sloppy and dropped it somewhere in the apartment? She thought of the last time she visited her bank to make a deposit into her secret account and she held her breath, too afraid to give anything away. That money—painstakingly deposited away from Vivian’s watchful eye—was her and Nico’s ticket out of this hell. She finally had enough to run. She was just biding her time, looking for the perfect opportunity to slip away….

He let the paper drift from his fingertips in perfect timing as two men Belleni hired as muscle came soundlessly into the room, blocking the exit with their solid mass.

“I took you in off the streets,” he began, steepling his fingers as he regarded her with the sharp eyes of the predator he was but she resisted the urge to make a run for it. To run would signify guilt and so far he hadn’t actually accused her of anything. “You were such a sad thing when I found you. Full of broken dreams and heartache. I nursed you to health. I gave you purpose. I gave you Nico.”

“I—”

“Silence!” he interrupted her with a snarl, losing the act of gentle benefactor, shedding it like a snake lost its skin in the heat of summer. “I have nurtured you, cosseted you, protected you…and you repay me with treachery?”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Stop lying,” he demanded, holding her stare for a long moment as her heart banged painfully against her chest. Did he know how much she’d saved? If so, he knew she’d been planning to bolt. He gestured and the two men advanced on her, grabbing her arms, startling a yelp out of her. He shared a look with Vivian then said, “Here’s the situation, my darling. Tomorrow you will go to this bank of yours and you will make a withdrawal…”

Nooo! She struggled against the grip on her arm but they were like steel manacles clamped against her skin and it was no use. Tears sprung to her eyes—born of pain and despair—and began tracking down her cheeks. “I can explain,” she began in a desperate bid for damage control but Belleni waved away her attempt.

“You will close your account and the balance will be brought to me as punishment for your deceit.”

“It’s for Nico,” she protested the half truth on a sob, too devastated at the realization that their hope was dead to hold back her tears. She couldn’t imagine losing all that she’d saved, not when they were so close. “For his college education. Please…please don’t take that from him.”

“I want to believe you but I would be a fool. Would you like to know what I think you were going to do?” He continued without her answer. “I believe you were going to use that money to take my son and disappear. After everything I’ve given you…it’s disappointing. Vivian was right—I’ve given you too much slack. You’ve forgotten your place. As much as it pains me, it’s time to remind you.” He looked at the men holding her. “Do not leave too many marks and do not break any bones,” he instructed, adding with a sigh. “Nobody pays for a broken Belleni girl, that’s for sure.” He dismissed them with a wave and Skye was dragged from the room to be taught a lesson in obedience.

“Mama?”

Nico’s voice jerked her back to the present and she realized a tear had snaked its way down her cheek without her notice. She lifted her sunglasses and wiped it away. “Sorry, honey. What did you say?” she asked, shaking off the memory with effort. In the past three months she’d endured more than she ever thought possible and that was saying a lot.

“Why are you crying?” he asked in a solemn tone.

She swallowed and regarded him, the love she felt for Nico colliding with the hatred she felt for his father, and she wondered how the hell she was going to get them out of this mess in one piece. “I was just thinking that today is the best day ever and I’ll be sad to see it end,” she lied, sliding her fingers through Nico’s hair and smoothing it away from his face. “But we still have to hit the swings before we call it a day so what do you say? You ready?”

He nodded, but there was still worry in his voice as he said, “Are you sad because of your owies? I have a Band-Aid if you want. They always make me feel better.”

A Band-Aid. She bit back the sad laughter and merely smiled at her son’s compassion. If only the answer to their problems was so easily found. “You’re too sweet for words, kiddo,” she said. “But I’m already feeling better so you go ahead and hold on to those Band-Aids for a true emergency. Okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” he said dutifully, and then as he clamored to his feet he surprised her with an exuberant, “Race you!” taking off as fast as his sneakered feet would take him in the direction of the swing set.

She sighed, wishing she could chase after him but the painkillers were wearing off and already it was becoming difficult to hide the pain of her ribs. Still, she refused to let anything keep her from enjoying every last moment of the day and climbed to her feet.

Her problems would still be there tomorrow but if Vivian had her way, Nico would not.

CHRISTIAN WATCHED AS SHE followed a small boy, her face alight with joy, and a grin tugged at his lips. Mathias was climbing the monkey bars, swinging like, well, a monkey, and Christian was hard-pressed to keep from staring at the woman as she went to the swings. He had to get her name. He couldn’t keep staring at her and referring to her as “the mystery woman” in his mind. He ought to let it go. He already knew she was trouble and he had enough on his plate to heap someone else’s problems on it, too. But he had questions. Why’d she leave without even saying goodbye? He figured saving someone’s life earned a courtesy chat in the morning. He’d snuck out of a lot of bedrooms in his day but he’d never had a woman sneak from his. But it wasn’t about that, not really. He just couldn’t get her out of his mind. He wanted to ensure she was all right. He double-checked Mathias and then wandered over to the swing sets.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, breaking into a smile that she didn’t immediately return. In fact, she seemed quite distressed that he’d approached her, much less addressed her. “You look good,” he added, hoping to break the awkwardness between them.

“Thank you,” she murmured, returning her attention to the boy he assumed was her son, effectively communicating the “I’m not interested in having this conversation” vibe.

He ought to take the hint but he wasn’t ready to walk away just yet. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Last time I saw you…” he ventured, hoping she’d take up the lead but he was disappointed.

“Yes, I’m aware of how I looked,” she said, ducking his gaze, extreme discomfort radiating from her trim body. “As you can see I’m doing fine. Thank you for your help,” she added stiffly.

“I get it. You don’t want me in your business. That’s coming across loud and clear. Like I said I was just, well, worried. You snuck out before I woke up and I didn’t see that coming. I figured we’d at least exchange names or something in the morning. It’s not every day I save a woman’s life. It was a unique experience and I’m sorry if I don’t know how to act.”

She had the grace to look ashamed but she also looked panicked that her son might overhear their conversation and for that Christian felt like a jerk. She stepped away from the swing set and he followed. He opened his mouth to apologize but she started first. “I’m sorry. It’s not my style to sneak out on someone who’s been so kind to me but I’d never been in a situation like that and I didn’t know how to act, either.” Never? He found it hard to believe that in her line of work she’d never been roughed up before that moment. His mom had been brutalized more times than he could count. Sometimes it’d been a crack across the mouth, other times it’d been broken bones. Maybe that was the difference between a streetwalker and the high-class variety. “Anyway, I’m just here to enjoy the day with my son,” she finished with a glance toward the boy on the swings and Christian’s gut clenched. Didn’t she realize the damage she was doing to her kid by continuing to hook? It didn’t matter that she was high-class, she’d still been beaten like a common prostitute. What if she’d died that night? Where would that put her kid?

“It’s probably none of my business but you really shouldn’t put yourself at risk like you do when you’ve got a kid depending on you,” he said, even though he knew he ought to leave it be.

The wariness returned to her eyes and her mouth firmed as she said coolly, “You’re right…it isn’t any of your business.”

“Fine. But I can tell you that I’ve seen the damage that parents inflict on their kids because of their choices.”

Her mouth twisted. “Speaking from experience?”

“No.” Hell yes. But he wasn’t about to share the deepest, darkest chapters of his life just to make a point. He gestured at Mathias playing on the playground. “See that boy over there?” he asked.

She followed his subtle gesture then returned to him. “Is he your son?”

“No,” he answered, chuckling as Mathias scrambled up the play structure, going up the slide backward instead of using the steps just so he could slide down again. “I’m his designated Buddy.” At her frown, he explained, “Mathias is enrolled in a state program for kids at risk. It’s like the Big Brother mentoring program but different in that Mathias lives in a group home and I have to sign him out for visits. It’s a bit more structured because of the circumstances the kids are in. Circumstances where their parents have put them at risk because of their environment,” he added meaningfully.

He expected her to react defensively because that was the standard operating procedure for people when attention was brought to the things that they shouldn’t be doing but she surprised him when her hazel eyes warmed. “So you take a kid who is a total stranger out for the day?”

“Yep. Just like renting out a DVD.” She drew back and he laughed, saying, “I’m kidding. But yes, I take a kid who is a total stranger out for the day. It helps them to see that not everything is bad out there in the world. Today, I brought Mathias out for Little League tryouts.”

“What happens if he makes the team? Does he go to another Buddy?”

“Nope. I signed on for the full season. If he makes the team, I’ll pick him up for practices and games. I’ll even volunteer on snack day.”

“That’s quite a commitment,” she murmured, but there was a hint of wistful admiration couched in her tone that made him wonder.

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Mathias is a good kid.”

“And you do this out of the goodness of your heart?” she asked. “You don’t get paid or anything for this?”

“No, I don’t get paid but it’s worth something to me,” he said. Perhaps if he’d had someone to talk to before his mom died, he might’ve felt less alone, less afraid.

“Oh?”

“I get the chance to make a difference,” he answered truthfully. “Not every kid gets an ideal start in life. I’m trying to do what I can to even the score.”

Her brow lifted ever so slightly as she said, “If only more people were more like you.”

“You don’t believe me. I sense sarcasm.”

“This is Manhattan. Everyone’s got an angle. Yours seems harmless enough, though.”

He tried not to take offense. She was right. Everyone did have an agenda but in this, he didn’t. However, he wasn’t going to waste time justifying himself for it would only make him look guilty. “Believe what you want. Just take me at my word that your actions will affect your son somewhere down the road.”

He must’ve struck a nerve. Her silence felt weighted, filled with something she couldn’t talk about without cost. Then he remembered something from that night. “Listen, if you need help…I might be able to hook you up with some resources. I know a lot of people from my connections to the Buddy program.”

“You can’t help me,” she said quietly, shocking him with her bleak honesty. “No one can.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asked. “You mentioned being punished. If you’re being forced…” He’d heard of pimps getting dangerously possessive with their girls. He couldn’t imagine being under someone’s thumb like that. At least with his mother she’d been a free agent. For that small blessing, he’d been grateful. “I could see what I can do.”

She gave him a look from her clear hazel eyes that was at the same time hard and vulnerable and he wondered if she realized how much she gave away with that single glance. “I can’t afford any more attempts.” She drew a halting breath and forced a short smile. “I appreciate your help. I’m sorry I snuck out on you. You deserved better but believe me when I say that I did you a favor.”

He didn’t doubt her honesty at that moment. And he should’ve left it at that. She was giving warnings to steer clear of her and her problems. But there was something about her—and it wasn’t anything about her physically, which would’ve been the easy motivation for anyone else—but rather it was when she looked at her son he saw pure love tempered by desolation. He wanted to know why. And he knew full well his curiosity wasn’t a good thing but he’d been snagged in the mouth pretty hard and there was no shaking it loose no matter how hard he tried.

“At least tell me your name,” he said.

Her groomed brows arched. “What’s in a name? The likelihood of ever seeing each other again is slim.”

“The odds were slim before today and yet here we are.”

“I could give you any name and it wouldn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

She held his stare for a long moment and he wondered what went on beyond that careful facade. He suspected a deep well lurked beneath that seemingly still surface. He half expected her to leave him hanging like she did that morning. But she surprised him with an answer. “My name is Skye D’Lane. Thank you…” She paused in question, waiting with a slight tilt of her lips.

“Christian. Christian Holt.”

“Thank you, Christian, for being there.”

SKYE NEARLY BIT HER TONGUE for going against her own decision to remain a mystery. But she’d felt compelled to at least give him her name. She figured it was only fair seeing as he’d saved her life. Yet, as she chewed her bottom lip, she had a strong suspicion a name wouldn’t be enough for a man like Christian Holt. Men like Christian found projects and Skye had just given him the green light to count her among his. A delicate shiver rocked her at the thought.

Perhaps it was the remnant of her distasteful altercation with Vivian that still had her on edge and feeling reckless. Or perhaps it was just that standing there with this incredibly good-looking man who was smiling at her as if she’d just given him the keys to the castle made her feel normal and she hungered for such simple pleasures. “I used to dance,” she said, the need to be anything other than he already knew caused her to loosen her tongue when she otherwise would’ve remained quiet. She never gave up personal information. Her dancing had been her own, a bright, shiny spot on the time line of her life thus far and she protected it with the fierce snarl of a mother bear. And yet, she’d given him this information without a fight.