Dirty Seduction

NICK

THE GIRL JOLTS to life as I grip her arm, big blue eyes staring up at mine, lashes dripping. Her mouth is open, just a little. Her breath is misty.

She’s young.

She’s pretty.

And she’s scared. Really fucking scared.

Footsteps pound the ground to my right, and I see him, the piece of shit waster.

The girl flinches, tugs away, but I keep a grip on her, placing myself between her fragile little body and the dickhead chasing her.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

He’s wasted. Buzzing with some shit. Speed probably.

“Beat it,” I say. “Fuck off back to where you came from.”

He shrugs. “Just hanging with little Laine, bro. Ain’t no problem here.

C’mon, little girl.”

Hell will freeze over before she goes anywhere with this piece of shit.

I smile at the loser. “I’m not your bro. Do yourself a favor and run the fuck along before there is a fucking problem here.”

He looks me up and down, and even through the rain he clocks the cut of my suit. His eyes flick to the Mercedes, to the keys still clearly in the ignition.

“I wouldn’t try it,” I say. I take a step towards him, shoulders back and easy. I could take him and I know it. He’s just another loser, another dreg from the cesspit of life, and I’ve seen plenty of those in my lifetime.

I glare at him, and beckon him forward, perfectly willing to put this piece of shit on the ground where he deserves, but he’s backing away before I utter another word, druggie feet tripping over each other.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it. Don’t even know her… never met her…”

I don’t bother watching him retreat. I’ve no need. Dickheads like him don’t bother men like me.

I pull the girl closer, and she seems to snap back to herself. Her cardigan is sodden, hanging from her shoulders, and she’s shivering.

“Laine?” I ask. “I’m Nick. Nick Lynch. You’re safe now. Where do you need to go?”

“Newhaven…” she says, and her voice is as pretty as she is. “My friend… she pulled some guy… she has my keys, my money…”

“And where is your friend now?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know…”

“I’ll take you home,” I say, and my words are simple and obvious. I’m surprised when she follows me to the passenger door of the Merc and slips into the seat without hesitation, but she seems dazed somehow. Naive, maybe. Maybe that’s what got her into this mess in the first place. I suspect as much.

Young, naive, and vulnerable.

No way should she be out alone this late at night. No way should she be here, in this shithole part of Brighton. I feel the anger, at some unknown parents who should be worried sick, parents who should have taught her more fucking sense.

A father who should be driving around looking for his daughter, who should be protecting her from pieces of shit like that fucking waster back there.

I ignore the twitch in my jaw. Push aside that feeling.

She needs a ride home. Just a ride home.

She’s not my problem, and she doesn’t want to be.

I close the door after her and she buckles up oblivious. She’s naive.

Naive.

But tonight she’s safe. With me.

I’ll keep her safe until I get her home.

She’s staring right at me as I take the driver’s side, still shivering, but she doesn’t look so scared now.

I wait until the mist clears from the windscreen. The wipers give a rhythmic thump from the other side of the glass.

“I can’t get in at home,” she says quietly. “Not without my key…”

“What about your parents?”

She looks at the floor. “My mum’s away.”

“And your dad?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Your mum left you all alone?” She nods. “She normally does.” My gut pangs. No dad.

I keep my voice steady. Warm and calm. “I can give you cash for a hotel. Take you wherever you need to go. Maybe a relative? An aunt or uncle? Neighbour?”

She’s shaking her head. “I don’t have… anyone…”

I feel the ache in my gut, stronger now. Me neither.

“You could call your phone, maybe she’ll answer?”

She looks so embarrassed, shaking her head. “I turned it off… to save battery… it hardly had any battery…” “Do you know your friend’s number?” Another shake of the head.

“How about Facebook? Social media?”

Her voice is so quiet. “Kelly Anne is um… she won’t… she’s with a guy, drunk…” She sighs. “She won’t even give me a second thought… not tonight…”

Isn’t that just the truth of it?

I put the car into gear. “Then you’d better stay with me until morning.” She doesn’t even attempt to argue as I pull away.

LAINE

I DON’T KNOW where we’re going. I don’t know why I’m not scared. My breath is steady now, and the air in the car is warm enough that my wet clothes don’t feel so bad. My nerves are still on edge, I can feel them beneath the relief. The relief that I got away.

I stare at Nick, trying to figure out the guy who grabbed me in the rain and saved me. He saved me.

How could I ever be scared of a man who saved me?

He seems strong, Nick. He seems like the kind of man who could chase monsters away. His jaw is hard, and his nose looks like a Roman carving, and his hair is long enough to curl as it dries. He has heavy brows and serious eyes. He seems serious.

I feel safer than I’ve felt in a long, long time. Maybe I’m still drunk on tequila after all.

I feel so small and he feels so big.

“Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” he asks. His voice is nice. Deep. Strong, like the rest of him.

“Not really,” I say. “Is it far?”

“No.”

I shrug. “I don’t know my way around. I wouldn’t know where we were if you told me, so it doesn’t matter, does it?” “I guess not, Laine, no.” I can’t stop staring at him.

“Your friend doesn’t sound like much of a friend.”

“She’s a crappy friend when she’s drunk.”

“That makes her a crappy friend, full stop.” He glances in my direction.

“A friend like that isn’t worth having, Laine.”