The Bandit Page 59

I found an empty swing and kept my gaze locked on the grass. I didn’t have the energy to push myself back and forth through the air, so I rocked instead.

After a few minutes of rocking, I sighed and considered going back. That was until I felt strong hands on my back sending me high into the air. I peeked over my shoulder and caught sight of shirtless Angel. I opened my mouth to scream at him to go away when he pushed me higher in the air.

When he pushed me again, I decided to live in the moment. We became the center of attention. Girls I went to school with giggled as they hurried by, and women watched over their smaller kids who were looking on appreciatively.

Why couldn’t he have put on his shirt first?

I dug my feet in the ground before he could push again.

“No,” I shouted when he tried to push again. He just stared with no emotion when I turned to face him. “Why did you come here?”

“You took off. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Where’s my father?”

“Gone.”

I inhaled and turned my head so Angel couldn’t see my hurt. How could Daddy leave without saying goodbye? He hadn’t cared enough to make sure I was okay before chasing after his next lick.

Maybe Angel was right about him.

That just pissed me off.

“Happy?”

“Pretending to care is worse than not caring at all, Mian. I’ve never lied to you.”

But my father had.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m safe here.” I turned my back to him, but then I felt his heat against my back as hegripped the chain suspending the swing.

“I can take your mind off your father.”

“What?” I tried to stand, but his hand on my shoulder kept me in place. Then I made the mistake of turning my head. His brown eyes captivated me. We were too close, but I couldn’t look away. “How?”

Instead of answering, he locked his hands around my waist and lifted me to my feet. He towered over me, and the closeness of our bodies emphasized how large he was compared to my small frame. He intimidated me.

My hands found his shoulders when I swayed, and he gripped me tighter.

“It’s the heat,” I defended even though he hadn’t spoken.

He wouldn’t meet my gaze as he looked over my head. “Let’s go,” he ordered and released me. I took hesitant steps until I could trust my legs and then ran to catch up.

“Where are we going?”

“I need a shirt.”

“But I don’t want to go home.”

“We’re going back so I can get a shirt. That’s it.”

“Then where are you taking me?”

He sighed. “You’ll see when we get there.”

When we reached the brownstone, he disappeared into his room. I decided I needed a shower and Angel would have to wait, so I grabbed my caddy from my room. After showering, I pulled on another pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was cropped to expose a sliver of my stomach right above my waist. It wasn’t something I would ever wear the few times Daddy was around.

I didn’t have time to tangle with my hair, so I pulled it up in a messy bun and applied lip-gloss. I was feeling prepared to catch anything Angel pitched when I stepped from my room.

However, my confidence came to a screeching halt when I caught him leaning sexily against the wall. He’d changed, too, into a denim button up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and brown cargo shorts. His attention was on his phone, but then he slowly looked up from the screen.

His gaze never made it past my legs.

“Is something wrong?” I asked when his staring grew uncomfortable.

He flinched and when he was finally staring back at me, his eyes held guilt. “Come on,” he muttered.

I followed him outside where his white mustang waited. I took my time admiring the clean white paint, double black stripes and blacked out rims. As always, I was nervous to share the small space with him. I was the only one harboring a secret crush, and I was afraid spending too much time in his presence would eventually give me away.

His body was relaxed in his seat when I got in. I stared as he typed fast on his phone.

“Done eye fucking my car?” He never looked up from his phone. His jaw was set telling me he was pissed off, and I wondered who he was messaging.

Maybe it was Trinity.

“Do you still have a girlfriend?”

Please say no. Please say no.

He stopped typing and looked at me. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” I answered defensively and turned to stare straight ahead. “Just making small talk.”

He grunted and turned on the ignition. The powerful engine roared to life, and my body vibrated to match the rhythm of the car. I had only just relaxed when he reached over my legs and opened the glove compartment. I tensed and sucked in air when his scent commandeered my senses.

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