Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Liam

As Jasmine takes my hand and I lead her to the dance floor, I acknowledge this isn’t one of my better ideas. I shouldn’t risk tempting myself. I’m having a hard enough time trying to keep my thoughts platonic where Jasmine is concerned. I don’t want to give her mixed signals. But I can see she really wants to dance. I saw the way she kept looking at the couples on the dance floor. Layla and Jason are swaying slowly to a romantic song, as are Mack and Erin.

I kept recalling Layla prompting me to “ask her to dance!”

When we reach the dance floor, I pull her into my arms, and we move gently to a slow melody. The feel of her body against mine affects me far more than I expected it to. I shouldn’t be holding her like this, and yet I can’t bring myself to put more space between us. I could do this all night if it meant I got to hold her like this.

Our gazes meet for a moment, and I see so many conflicting emotions in her big, beautiful dark eyes—a mixture of wonder and confusion. When I smile at her, she smiles back in relief.

“You’re a good dancer,” I tell her, as she moves perfectly in sync with me.

She laughs softly. “I don’t see why. I’ve never danced with anyone before. I never went to any school dances or parties.”

When I think of all the things she’s missed out on, my heart aches for her. I can’t do anything about her miserable childhood, but I can do something about her future. “I guess you’re just a natural. My oldest sister taught me to dance, even though I crushed her toes in the beginning.”

“I suspect you’re good at everything you do,” she says. Then she slides her arms around my neck and lays her head on my chest.

I tighten my hold on her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms, the warm weight of her as she leans into me. It hits me like a ton of bricks that she trusts me. After all the men she’s been with, after all the abuse she’s suffered, the lack of choice and free will, she still has the capacity to trust someone.

I lay my cheek against the side of her head and breathe in the scent of her hair. I close my eyes and let the music guide us. When she lowers her arms and slides them around my waist, tightening her hold on me, my chest tightens. My body heats as it comes alive. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve dated lots of girls, sure, and I liked a lot of them. But none of them made me feel like I do now.

The song ends, and another slow song begins. Neither one of us seems in any hurry to leave the dance floor. When Jasmine runs her hand up and down my back, my nerve endings come alive.

Hell, I could do this forever.

* * *

Jasmine and I dance to several more slow songs before we finally return to our table. Mack and Erin are still out on the dance floor, but Jason and Layla are at the table. Miguel and Philip are off shooting pool.

Jasmine and I order soft drinks to cool off, which is a good idea. I don’t think consuming any more alcohol this evening would be wise.

It’s getting late, and I notice Jasmine is yawning. I figure she’s got to be exhausted after all the hard training she’s had this week. I was crazy for even bringing her here tonight. “Are you ready to go home?” I ask her.

She smiles at me. “Yeah. I’m wiped.”

“I figured as much.” I stretch my arm behind Jasmine and Layla and tap Jason on the shoulder. “We’re heading home. It’s been a long week.”

Jason nods. “We’ll be leaving soon, too. It was good to see you tonight. I’m glad you both came.”

Jason stays with the girls as I head over to the pool table to say goodnight to Miguel and Phil.

“Dude,” Philip says when he sees me. “What the hell?” He smiles. “Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone? She’s amazing.”

“It’s complicated,” I say, watching Miguel line up a shot with his pool cue.

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” he says with satisfaction. “She and Layla seem to be hitting it off.” Miguel shoots and sinks the eight ball.

“Damn!” Philip yells. “That’s twenty bucks I owe you!”

“Forty,” Miguel reminds him. “Don’t forget the previous match.”

Philip pulls out his wallet and hands Miguel two twenties. “I’m done for the night,” he tells me. “Miguel’s on a roll.”

“I came to say goodnight,” I tell them. “Jasmine’s tired, so I’m taking her home. She’s been training hard all week.”

Philip pats me on the back. “Respect, man. Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s kicking ass.”

“Yeah, she is pretty amazing. You don’t know the half of it.”

I return to our table and lay down some cash to cover the bill. I put my jacket on and hand Jasmine hers. She slips it on, and then we say our goodbyes and head for the exit.

It’s blustery cold outside, and I put my arm around Jasmine. “We need to get you a warmer coat. Winter’s just around the corner.”

We’re halfway to the Jeep when a girl steps out of the shadows of a storefront. “Jasmine? Is that you?” She sounds incredulous.

Jasmine freezes as she stares the girl in the face. “Kat?”

This Kat is around Jasmine’s age. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a topknot. She’s got numerous facial piercings and a couple of tattoos visible on her throat and chest. She’s shaking, most likely from the frigid night air. She’s dressed in skimpy clothes—a mini skirt and a top with a low cleavage—no jacket. There are dark shadows beneath her lower lids, and her eyes are glazed over, her pupils dilated. She’s clearly high on something.

Kat looks at me, then at Jasmine. “Where the hell have you been, girl?” she hisses. She reaches out and grabs Jasmine’s wrist. “Tony’s had his guys scouring the streets looking for you! He thinks you’re either dead or in jail.”

Jasmine doesn’t move a muscle. “Please don’t tell him you saw me,” she begs the other girl.

I step in quietly and pry Kat’s fingers off Jasmine’s wrist and draw Jasmine out of the girl’s reach, sliding between them to act as a physical buffer. “That’s enough.”

Kat glares at me. “Who the hell are you?”

“He’s a friend,” Jasmine says from behind me.

“I’m her protector,” I say. “You tell Tony that Jasmine’s out of the business. End of story.”

Kat peers around me at Jasmine. “Come back with me now, and maybe he’ll let you off light. It’ll be worse for you if he catches you on the street.” And then she jabs her finger in my direction. “As for you, Tony’s going to kill you for interfering with one of his girls.”

Jasmine clutches the back of my jacket. “I’m not going back, Kat. Not ever. I’d rather die first.”

“Well, you might just get your wish,” the other girl says. “Remember what Tony did to Miranda when she ran?”

Out of nowhere, Philip appears at my side. “Is there a problem here?” he asks in his deep voice.

I’m six-one, and Philip towers over me. The guy’s huge—six-four—and all muscle. He’s intimidating as hell dressed in black jeans and a black McIntyre Security T-shirt. Kat’s eyes widen and she takes a hasty step back.

“No problem,” I say. “We were just leaving.” I reach for Jasmine’s hand. “Let’s go,” I say, tugging her along with me.

Philip remains behind, planting himself between us and Kat to prevent the young woman from following us.

Shit! Coming out here tonight was a colossal mistake.

As we walk the rest of the way to the Jeep, I scan the street and sidewalks to make sure we’re not being followed. I help Jasmine into the front passenger seat and buckle her in. She’s in a state of shock, shaking uncontrollably.

“You’re fine,” I tell her, making her look at me. There’s sheer panic in her eyes. “Don’t worry.”

I shut her door and jog around to the driver’s side and climb inside. Immediately, I start the engine and pull into traffic. Just to be safe, I take a long route back to the apartment building, making sure we’re not being followed.

I glance over at Jasmine, who’s staring numbly at the road in front of us. Her arms are wrapped securely around her torso, and she’s still shaking. I reach over and pat her thigh. “No one knows where you are. And I made sure no one followed.”

But it’s as though my words fall on deaf ears. I get no response from her at all. She just sits there shaking.

Fuck!

* * *

Once we’re back at my apartment building, I park in the underground garage and take Jasmine upstairs to our apartment.

“No one followed us here,” I assure her as I press the button for our floor. “I was watching. No one.”

Jasmine nods but doesn’t say anything. She’s truly frightened. I put my arm across her shoulders and pull her close. Fortunately, we’re alone in the elevator, and we don’t stop for any other passengers. We get off on our floor and head to the apartment.

Once we’re inside, Jasmine makes a dash for the bedroom and shuts the door behind her. Hard.

Shit.

I hang up my jacket and knock on the bedroom door. “Jasmine? Can we talk?”

But there’s no response.

I try the doorknob and find it locked. “Jasmine? Honey, we need to talk about this, okay? You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let Tony get his hands on you.”

I stand at the door, listening quietly, and can just make out the sound of muffled sobs. “Jasmine, open the door. Please let me in.” She’s scared, and I don’t want her to suffer alone.

But the lock doesn’t turn. Instead, I hear her slide slowly down the door to the floor.

I knock quietly. “Jasmine, please.” But there’s no response. So I do the only thing I can do. I sit outside the bedroom. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’m going to sit here as long as it takes until you open this door and talk to me.”