Billionaire Protector - Alexa Hart Page 0,19

rage as I was.

“Of course, I love her. Ain’t never loved anybody like I love that little precious thing,” Randall replied quietly. It nearly made me cry – not because of the sentiment, but simply because it further drove home the point that the first person who’d ever really “loved” me had turned out to be a cold-blooded monster.

“Dangerous ground, Randy. Dangerous ground. You start caring that much about one deceitful little bitch, and it’s gonna be the death of you,” Tim admonished, abruptly sending the thought through my head that I hoped they both would die - of anything - as soon as possible.

“She ain’t deceitful, and I told you to watch yer fuckin’ mouth. Val’s gonna do exactly what I want her to do for the rest of her goddamn life. And if she ever gets it into her head to do anything else, she ain’t gonna be able to anyway. I’ll end her ‘fore I let her disrespect me,” Randall’s authoritative, booming voice was most certainly meant to reach my ears at this point. “Christ, she’s been in the bathroom for way too long. It’s time for lunch. Lemme go grab ‘er.”

I froze, checking the mirror to see if I was anywhere near “presentable” to be seen and serving food. The bruise stared back at me – less purple but still very much visible. The abuse was beyond obvious.

Randall threw open the bathroom door and my heart stopped while I waited for his anger to settle in at my failed attempt to hide my punishment. Would he hit me while Tim was still here, or wait for privacy?

But instead of displeasure, Randall smiled widely, and guided me out of the bathroom into the long, narrow hallway. “That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll let this one slide. Timmy needs to see just how dedicated you are to this relationship. C’mon.”

I walked obediently beside Randall, his hand on my lower back. It almost seemed like this must be a movie – someone else’s life. Why me? Why would I end up here? And then again, why wouldn’t I end up here...

“I love you, Val,” Randall whispered, squeezing my ass roughly and then leaving me to follow him like the “trooper” that I was. “Love”, it had turned out, was the most horrible atrocity I ever could have imagined.

It had all been a big mistake. I didn’t know the first thing about fancy parties – “black tie events”, or whatever Penn had called it. Even if I could somehow fake the social aspect of such a gathering, my wardrobe alone would scream to the world that I was an imposter. I wasn’t even the type of girl that would be hired to waitress such an event – let alone attend.

And yet, he had asked me. He’d met me in this dusty old store. He knew – or at least probably could make a decent guess – the financial tier that my income fell into (he would have been overestimating, regardless). Jeans and a t-shirt and a ponytail – that was Valerie Anne Johnson. That was me.

Penn hadn’t seemed to mind.

In fact, hadn’t he been wearing some rather torn-up looking jeans himself? I distinctly remembered the grease and dirt stains that had covered his own t-shirt (along with the way it had clung to his young, muscled arms and broad shoulders). Maybe his family threw fancy parties, but Penn certainly didn’t seem to be stuck up or self-entitled in any way.

Was it possible that this was just a nice event for a normal family, and I was overreacting to his words? Even regular people got dressed up occasionally, from what I knew. There wasn’t necessarily anything incredibly strange about looking nice for a party.

But I didn’t have a dress. I didn’t even have dressy pants, for that matter. And I was pretty sure that my regular flip-flops were less than acceptable, as were the work boots that Kate made me wear in the store for safety purposes. Other than that, I had a beat-up pair of sneakers and some fluffy pink house slippers that Kate had given me.

Those were my incredibly real options, and they were adding to my incredibly real breakdown that had overtaken me the moment I hung up with Penn. I was still crying – like a complete moron – when Kate came bustling out of the back.

“Hey, I think Murph is out for his afternoon nap –”

She stopped short when she saw me bent over the counter. I tried

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