Page 15 of Protected

They talked a few minutes longer, and by the time the call ended, Chelsey felt better than she had all day. Excitement filled her, and she couldn’t wait for her gig tomorrow night. Hopefully,if she stayed busy enough, thoughts of Parker would be a thing of the past.

At least she could hope.

Chapter Seven

Parker shook his head in disgust as he entered his house from the garage, dumped his gear in the mudroom, and rearmed the alarm.

Maybe I am crazy.

He bypassed the kitchen, living room, and headed down the hallway to his bedroom, replaying the disastrous evening in his mind. What the hell had he been thinking? Actually, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d just reacted. Nothing had gone right tonight, and it was his own damn fault.

The plan had been simple: stop by and talk to Chelsey before she went to bed. He had parked his truck around the corner, thinking it would be a better chance of her letting him in if she didn’t see it. Either way, there’d been no guarantee that she’d hear him out. But he’d had to try.

All he’d wanted to do was make things right between them, but he hadn’t counted on her being out with Terrance. Parker had been just about to ring the doorbell when the car pulled into the driveway. He slipped into the shadows on the porch and had planned to stay there.

He figured Terrance didn’t stand a chance with Chelsey. She was smart, despite the fact that she’d gone out with the guyagain. Parker assumed she’d thank him for getting her home safe, and then send him on his way. But no…the jerk went in for a kiss, and Parker couldn’t let that happen. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d held the guy at gunpoint.

Chelsey had been right to ask if he was crazy. That had been a bonehead thing to do. He might be crazy in love with her, but he didn’t go around brandishing a weapon like some lunatic. At least he didn’t make a habit of it. Yet, seeing another man with his woman didn’t sit right with him, especially Terrance.

“I should’ve handled his punk-ass weeks ago,” Parker murmured into the quietness of his bedroom. He didn’t bother with lights. Just walked in and fell face first onto his king-size mattress.

He sighed, still mentally kicking himself. Yes, he should’ve dealt with Terrance the moment he’d dug up the information on him. He could’ve paid the guy a visit and threatened him without Chelsey knowing. Or he could’ve made sure she knew what type of man she was spending time with.

Parker had done neither because he hadn’t expected her to go out with the man again. Normally she was a good judge of character, and her instincts were usually on point.

Apparently, not this time.

He sighed again and closed his eyes as the hum of the air conditioner lulled him into a peaceful moment. He was going to have to make Chelsey listen, because he couldn’t keep up this irrational behavior. Even if she didn’t take him back, at least he’d know that he did what he could to make things right with her. He might not want to live the rest of his life without her, but he would have to respect her decision.

Exhaustion settled around him like a heavy blanket and his eyes drifted closed. He couldn’t get Chelsey out of his mind. She was his. They belonged together. He loved her too much to walkaway and had been a fool to think he could ever live life without her.

Impossible. He needed her. No one had made him feel as loved as she had, not since before his mother died.

God, he missed her and his mother. He couldn’t bring his mother back from the dead, but there was plenty he could do about Chelsey. He had to show her that they belonged together.

That was his last thought before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Junior hurried into the kitchen where his parents were arguing, and the incredible smell of fried chicken, his favorite, greeted him at the entrance. Unfortunately, food would have to wait.

“Why are y’all arguing?” he asked, his gaze darting between his mother and father. They used to never argue, until lately. It was because his mother didn’t like that his father was making him stay out late to sell drugs.

“Hi, baby. I didn’t know you were home.” His mother kissed his cheek, then patted it gently the way she always did.

“Junior, this is grown folks’ business. So get the fuck out,” his father shouted, anger sparking his dark brown eyes.

The menacing look he gave Junior was why everyone on the streets called him Wolf. Well, that, and the fact that he resembled a wolf with the intense slant of his eyes that were a little too close together. Also, the stealth-like way he moved probably added to the moniker.

“I told you about walking around here acting like you own the place.”

“Maverick, honey, please. Our son just got home from school. At least let him get something to eat,” Junior’s mother said and grabbed a plate from the cabinet.

His dad snatched the plate from her and shoved it back into the cabinet, probably breaking it.

“Mina, he can fix his own damn plate, but I told him to get the fuck out. And here your ass was getting ready to—”

“Don’t talk to my mother like that!” The words were out of Junior’s mouth before he could pull them back.

He never talked back to his father. Never.