When I get back, she’s using one finger to work the pad on the laptop. That should be easier for her than maneuvering the mouse.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink before your session, Little one?”
“No. I’m good. I’m usually famished afterward, though. I get intense when I teach.”
“I’ll have something ready for you then. What would you like?”
She taps her lips. “Could we get pizza?”
“Of course.”
“I have cash in my purse.” She points toward the counter where her purse still sits from this morning.
My brows lift. We’ll need to have a little chat about who pays for things in this relationship. “I’ve got it, June. What toppings do you like on it?”
She scrunches up her face. “Cheese.”
“No problem. Any particular chain you prefer? There’s a great place a few blocks from here I sometimes order from. It’s not a chain.”
“I’m not picky about where it’s from.”
“Okay, I’ll place the order about half an hour before your class ends.”
“Thank you.” She stares at me, smiling.
I hope she’s happy. I want her to be happy. I want to see her smile every single day for the rest of my life. A genuine happiness that reaches her soul.
Her life has been difficult for six years. That’s over. I never want her to struggle and fear again.
I just hope she’s open-minded enough to hear me out when I explain my preferred kink. It might take a while for her to realize it, but June is Little. She just doesn’t know it. She might balk, but I’ll get her to see I’m right.
Twelve
Blade
* * *
Watching my girl in her element, teaching her students, makes my heart swell. It’s the most mesmerizing two hours of my life. I try to be as quiet as a mouse and out of her line of vision so I don’t distract her, but I can’t bring myself to leave the room.
I’d meant to go to another part of the house so I wouldn’t bother her at all, but when she sits up, puts on her professional face, and greets her students, I can’t move.
She’s incredible. She tells her students she fell and broke her arm, letting them know why she missed their last class. It’s true. She did fall, even though she had a lot of help doing so. I’m not surprised, and I can’t blame her. She certainly wasn’t going to tell the young people that she was attacked.
I know she’s in pain, but she never lets on. Two hours of teaching without so much as slouching. Luckily, she’s in front of a video camera and only needs to use one finger to change screens a few times so she can follow her lesson plans.
June was born to teach. I bet she was dynamic in a classroom before her fucking ex took over her life and made her quit working so he could drag her from the city and control her every move. Dickface.
While she works, I lean against the kitchen counter. I’m not quite in her line of sight, nor am I in the line of her camera. I keep my phone on silent and exchange several texts with my team, including Rachell.
As usual, Rachell came through for me, securing an appointment with a top-notch doctor tomorrow morning. She even got the X-rays delivered from the hospital. Bless her. She’s a gem among gems.
After combing over everything, Cannon found no prints anywhere that didn’t belong to me or June. It’s not unexpected, but still disappointing. A few of my men went to June’s last known address and have verified Pete Stark—I now know his surname—is living in the same house where he isolated my girl.
Even more disturbing, it would seem he has another woman living there. One of my men got long-range pictures of her hurrying to put trash in the bin. When I see a few of the images, I cringe. She has a black eye, and she’s protecting her ribs on one side of her body with her arm.
I hate that someone else is being abused, which only makes me want to pick up the pace on our investigation. Now, I’m curious. Why would Stark be after my girl if he has a new woman in her place to abuse?
He never even consented to divorce June. She’s still married to the fucker. What’s his aim?
