Kilty Pleasure (13 page)

Right now, quite a bit sexually.

“Tell me about your family, what it was like growing up.” He needed the distraction, or he’d be tempted to disregard the rest of dinner, stride around the table to grab her, and then carry her off to the bedroom.

“My family,” she repeated, the spark dying from her words.

“Aye.”

“You want the whole sordid story? It’s, um, not really an upper of a conversation.”

“Maybe not, but I’d still like to hear about it.”

“Well, you already know a bunch, I’m sure.” She bit her lip and shook her head, giving a short, humorless laugh. “You’ve probably dealt with them on the job.”

He nodded, not bothering to deny it.

Her mouth twisted into a sad, bitter smile as she poked at her lasagna with a fork. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up now, because her appetite seemed to be lost.

“My parents were poor, and what money they did have they spent on drugs. They never should’ve had kids, but then that’s how it tends to work, right? Birth control isn’t exactly at the forefront of a crackhead’s mind.”

Shite, but she was candid.

“I was the first mistake, and then six years later my brother became the second.” She made no attempt to eat now, pushing her plate aside. “My mom tried to straighten out for a year or two after each pregnancy—mother’s instinct and all, I guess. I know she wanted to change, but she always fell back off the wagon.”

Colin could almost envision it. The filthy conditions of the house, the soiled diapers and malnourished children. He’d seen it firsthand on more than one occasion.

“How did the state not remove you from the home?”

“We fell through the cracks, for the most part. Like so many kids do.” Folding her arms across her chest, she leaned back in her chair and stared at the table. “And maybe because I raised Nick more than my mother did. I tried to make things normal at home. I was only in second grade, but I was changing his diapers, making sure he got something to eat, all while my parents were in the living room smoking crack cocaine.”

Jesus
. She’d been a baby herself, younger than Emily, taking care of a toddler. Her words made him a little nauseated, horrified, but he struggled not to show it as he slipped into deputy mode. Keeping his expression without judgment and mostly unreadable.

He reached for his wine, thinking he needed it a little more now to deal with this conversation. And, yet, Hailey didn’t even touch hers. Had barely touched hers all night, actually.

“There were a few times when neighbors would try to help and report us.”

“And nothing ever resulted of it?”

“One time, yes. My dad finally left us. My mom was really struggling and trying to get her shit together. But CPS removed us from our home and separated us in foster care for over a year.”

That was good, right? Though it sounded like they hadn’t stayed in foster care.

“But your mother ultimately got you back?” he guessed.

“Yeah.”

What would’ve happened if they’d stayed in the system? Been given a bit of a chance at life?

“Foster care was no picnic,” she said quietly, as if reading his mind. “My foster family had a son a few years older than me…and let’s just say I had to sleep with a kitchen knife to make sure he kept his distance.”

The shock and nausea inside him turned to fury. “You’ve got to bloody be joking? How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” She finally glanced up at him and her gaze flashed with anger similar to what he felt. “When my mother was given custody again—when she’d supposedly cleaned up her act—I vowed I’d never go back into the system.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, well, my brother did.” She pulled her ponytail forward and started toying with the dark strands of hair. “He resented returning to my mom, even if…”

“Even if what?”

“Even if he adored me.” Her voice broke a little, and he knew how hard it was for her to talk about this.

When he’d asked to hear about her past, he hadn’t expected her to be so forthcoming. Maybe she was deliberately trying to shock him. If so, she was doing a bloody good job. He had a pretty good sense of when someone was lying, and there could be no faking the kind of emotion Hailey was projecting.

“Your brother’s experience wasn’t as terrifying as yours, I suspect?”

“No. His foster family was much different than mine. He was with people who gave him love, attention, protection. I mean, compare that to a run-down home where the closest thing he had to a functioning mom was a young teenager.” She scooted back her chair and stood up, grabbing her plate. “Sometimes I think I was just being selfish to try and keep us together.”

She’d been almost a child herself. If Colin put himself in her place—if it had been his siblings facing the threat of being separated or in foster care—then, aye, he would’ve done the same.

“There’s no guarantee he would’ve been better off.” He stood, following her lead and taking his plate to the sink. “The system, as you well learned, is not flawless. Besides, if the courts decided to return you both to your mother, it was out of your hands.”

“Maybe. I was almost fifteen when we went back to my mom, I just needed to get through the next three and a half years. I knew once I turned eighteen I could convince the courts that I could take care of Nick.”

“You went to court?”

“No. I didn’t have to. My mother didn’t fight me and was lucid enough to know it was the right thing to do. To let him live with me.”

Her jaw was set tight as she rinsed her plate. So much anger and sadness radiated off her in silent waves. She grabbed a dish brush and began scrubbing at the plate with enough force to leave scratches.

“Hailey…”

“No, you wanted to hear it all, right? You wanted every dirty little detail of my life. Well, hey, you’ve got it. That time between fifteen and eighteen was like walking on eggshells. Every day I lived in fear that Mom would screw up. That she wouldn’t be able to pay the bills.” She grabbed the plate from his hands, scraped his leftovers into the garbage disposal and started scrubbing. “Or that maybe I wouldn’t be able to protect myself every time.”

His jaw clenched. “Elaborate on that?”

“There were a lot of men who came and went through her door. Dealers. Boyfriends. Random guys. And of course they noticed the pretty teenage girl in the house and made all kinds of offers.” She gave a harsh laugh.

His heart sank and he knew where she was going with this.

“‘Yo, Miss Hailey, how about fifty dollars for a blow job?’ or my favorite when I was sixteen, ‘Hey, princess, are you still a virgin? I know a lot of men who’d be willing to take your cherry for a couple hundred dollars. You could buy yourself some nice clothes’.”

Christ, he didn’t want to hear this anymore. He wanted to go drive to her mother’s house—because he knew exactly where it was—and rip her a new one. And then maybe at the same time beat the living shit out of every man he saw lingering around the dump.

“I didn’t do it. Any of it. I would’ve rather gone back to foster care, and was damn close to it. So when Sarah’s dad offered me five hundred dollars to just
pretend
I’d slept with Ian, it was the easy way out.” She tossed the brush into the sink and choked on a sob. “Even if it meant getting judged and hated by people like you the rest of my life.”

Shame hit him with the force of a tsunami and he was left standing alone at the sink as she turned and walked away.

When he’d encouraged her to open up about her family life, he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Perhaps a little dodgy, but nothing like
this
.

He was utterly clueless on just how bad she’d had it. He’d seen stories like this, even dealt with people in her situation while he was on the job. Only it was different putting a face to the situation. Not just a face, but the face of the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. The woman he’d recently slept with and still wanted more than any other woman out there.

She was absolutely right. He’d judged and condemned Hailey, even after knowing she hadn’t committed the act. It was only when he’d had the backstory as to why she’d done what she’d done…

Shite, she was right. He was a complete asshole. Why wasn’t he more like Kenzie and Sarah? Why had he been so hard to forgive?

Turning on his heel, he strode after her and caught up to her in the living room.

Catching her elbow, he swung her around and into his arms. Any protest she made he smothered with his lips.

She yielded to him, her body falling into his as he swept his tongue deep to find hers. Her tiny sigh ended on a sob.

With a strength that surprised him, she shoved him away.

“No.”
She shook her head violently. “You can’t just kiss me and think everything is going to be okay. It doesn’t work that way.”

He drew in a ragged breath. “Which way does it work?”

“I don’t even know, but not like that. You don’t get to come in here, ask me to bare my soul and then feel sorry for me and the life I’ve had.” She shoved a finger into his chest. “I know you feel bad for the way you’ve treated me and you damn well should.”

How did he explain what he was feeling? That, yes, he did feel like a complete arse, but this wasn’t about pity? That he just needed to touch her? To comfort her?

He took a step forward, lifting his hands just slightly to reach for her. “Hailey, just listen—”

“Get the fuck out.”

Stunned at the vehemence in her eyes, he fell back a step. The anger vanished in an instant, replaced by glittering tears of exhaustion and regret.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I just… Please go, Colin. I don’t really know why you came here tonight. Whether to sleep with me again, or warn me away from Kenzie and Sarah, but I just can’t deal with it right now. Those were some serious emotional scabs I just ripped off for you. I don’t talk about this. Ever.”

The instinct to stay and comfort her was alive and roaring inside him. And maybe that’s part of the reason he’d kissed her in the first place, but clearly he was out of line.

What he needed to do was walk away and respect her wishes, even if every part of him demanded he stay and not leave her alone.

“If that’s truly what you want, then I’ll leave.”

She bit her lip and nodded, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

What had he done to her? His teeth snapped together and he heaved a sigh. “Fuck it all but I’m sorry, Hailey. I never imagined the night would end like this—”

“No, I’m pretty sure you imagined yourself boning me and on your way home by now.”

He was just digging himself into a deeper hole. It was likely best if he just left as she’d asked him to.

“Call me if you need anything, all right?” He pulled out a card from his wallet and laid it on the table near the door. Shite, how ridiculous was it that they’d slept together, had this emotionally intense conversation, yet she didn’t even have his number? “Text me. Whatever you want, all right?”

She walked him to the door and opened it, not replying as he stepped out onto the porch.

Finally, she gave a soft, tired sigh. “I’ve been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember. If I
‘need anything’ I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it on my own.”

She closed the door on him, giving him no opportunity to form a response. Maybe it was a good thing, because he didn’t actually have one.

Why the hell did she feel like she had the hangover from hell?

Hailey rifled through her medicine cabinet, digging out the bottle of ibuprofen. She’d had four sips of wine last night, so any hangover had to be of the emotional kind.

After Colin left she’d gone to bed and cried for probably an hour, until her pillow was soaked and her body was weak with exhaustion.

Thankfully she’d slept like the dead and had woken to a quiet house. She’d stared at the empty space on the bed beside her and been struck with a wave of sadness that she was alone.

Usually it didn’t bother her—being alone was just how her life functioned.

Last night she knew Colin would’ve stayed without her even having to ask. She could’ve taken comfort in those strong arms, maybe chased away her awful memories with some amazing sex, and woken with him beside her. Maybe it would’ve been from pity on his side, but did it really matter?

He hadn’t stayed because she’d driven him from her house with an emotionally violent outburst that had shocked him as much as it had her. And so he’d left. She hadn’t given him a choice.

Hailey walked to the sink and filled up a glass with water, then swallowed two of the painkillers. She drank the rest of the water—it was important to stay hydrated on these hot days—and then dropped the cup into the sink.

A quick glance in the mirror showed she didn’t look quite as awful as she felt.

She’d left her hair down to air-dry after the shower, and now it fell in loose, dark waves over her shoulders. Her makeup—as always—was minimal. Just a bit of mascara and gloss.

Her outfit was cute enough, but then she’d felt the need to dress up a little bit for the lunch. The turquoise skirt fell to her ankles, where her brown-leather-sandaled feet peaked out. Her toenails were a glittery gold, still looking decent after a pedicure two weeks ago. Her top was a white tank top; a braided leather belt around the waist completed the ensemble.