Personal Protector

A.N. Sorry about the wait, folks, but writers block is die hard. I had to kill it by hand, thank you very much. END A.N.

Lee sank into the bath, letting her mind go blank. It felt so good. She usually just took showers so she could get in and out quick. She was afraid of what would happen if her stepdad busted the door open and she was naked in the bath.

He’d try to drown her, or worse, touch her.

She shuddered, her skin crawling.

Reminding herself of where she was, she relaxed, only getting out when the tips of her fingers looked like prunes.

The cut on her midriff had closed over but it still stung when she twisted wrong. She slipped on her panties, blushing when she realized Tristan had bought the lacy undergarment, so therefore had gotten a good look at what would be underneath her jeans.

She pulled the low-riding jeans over her hips and buttoned them, then slipped into the white lace bra that matched her panties. The red shirt was three-quarter sleeved to cover the handprint bruises just below her elbows and came to her belly button to cover the cut, leaving a little strip of her lower belly exposed.

Tristan had thought of everything and she was grateful.

She grabbed her socks and the pair of black boots and left the bathroom. Tristan handed a hairbrush to her after she’d sat on the couch and put her shoes on. She yanked it through her long hair, wincing on the snags.

He sighed, getting up from the computer. “Gimme.” He held out his hand for the brush.

He stood her in front of him and turned her away from him. Carefully, he worked all the tangles out until the long locks shone smooth. He planted a kiss on top of her head when he was finished.

“How does it look?” she asked, turning back around.

He studied her for a minute, his eyes twinkling. “Very pretty.”

She frowned over the flush that crept over her face. “Yeah right.”

His eyebrows shot heavenward. “You calling me a liar, kid?”

She just giggled and turned on the TV, the sound of Animaniacs filling the apartment.

He sat beside her after a minute. “I called a friend of mine in California. He’s a hell of a P.I. He’s doing a check on Adler.”

She smiled at the screen, then turned to him with slightly sad eyes. “He won’t find anything.” No one ever did.

Her grandfather had tried on numerous occasions to get rid of Fredrick, to no avail. He was found dead, supposedly of a heart attack, a few months later.

-

Tristan studied her as she watched TV. She seemed happy, which was odd for someone who had lived her life. He was afraid that when she let herself think of what had happened to her, it would come crashing down, and she would snap.

He’d have to talk to her later, when he was sure she was safe.

He wanted to take her home to Canada with him, but he had to make sure that bastard didn’t find a way to follow them.

He was dragged from his thoughts when Lee looked up at him.

“What?”

She smiled. “I want some ice cream.”

He lifted a brow and smirked. “There’s some Ben & Jerry’s in the fridge.”

“That’s no fun,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

He crossed his arms as he peered down at her. “Are you suggesting we go out in a downpour to get ice cream?”

She nodded, giving him a winning smile. “Please.”

He closed his eyes, sighing, then stood and grabbed his jacket. “Come on.” That girl was going to be the death of him, but he’d gladly go down for her happiness.

Her jacket was stained with blood, so he draped a leather jacket over her shoulders. It dwarfed her, but she looked cute trying to keep the sleeves from hanging past her fingertips.

“I love the rain,” she said, turning in a circle after they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The day way dark, gray clouds overlaying the sky, thunder booming in the distance.

He lifted her arm, dragging the sleeve up and taking her hand.

His apartment was close enough to everything that he didn’t bother with a car, and just used a cab for long trips while he was in Montana. He knew the perfect place where they could enjoy their ice cream under the awnings and not worry about getting wet.

He held onto her hand as they stepped up to the counter. She eyed the menu with uncertainty.

“What do you want?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Whatever it is, I want it completely chocolate.”

Tristan smiled at the young woman behind the counter. “There you have it,” he said. “I’ll just take a strawberry shake.”

He found a table outside the open-front building, under the big red and white candy-striped awning that covered the patio and sidewalk.

After a few minutes, the waitress brought their ice cream over. Lee’s was a hot fudge sundae with chocolate ice cream, chocolate chips, Reese’s Pieces, and chocolate chunk cookie dough.

She dipped her spoon in the confection and took a bite, sighing with pleasure. “That’s good,” she said, tucking into the sweet. She finished it in record time and was staring at his milkshake with green-eyed envy.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said with a grin. “You can get your own.” He motioned the waitress over, ordering her another, though he was sure it was going to make her sick.

She finished it off and still ended up with his milkshake as he was paying the tab.

“I didn’t know you liked ice cream so well,” he said as the walked back to his apartment.

“My mom used to sneak it into the house when my dad was gone, cause he wouldn’t let me have it.” She blushed a little, ducking her head down.

“Don’t be embarrassed, kid. It’s all his fault.”

“I know. Growing up, I used to wonder why my dad wasn’t like everyone else’s, but after a while, I stopped caring.”

That was the most she’d ever told him about her past. If it got her to talk, he’d fill his refrigerator with ice cream for her.