Read Online Dragons Prefer Blondes by Candace Havens - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Candace Havens
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make it worse. I know you don’t believe me, but it was an accident.”
That’s probably what you’ll say the next ten times it happens. I stomped up the stairs.
I found Baron in the office staring at the computer. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who would beat up his girlfriend. But he had.
“Want to explain how Lourdes got that bruise under her eye?”
He jumped up. “Alex? When did you get here?”
“How long, Baron?” I moved toward him. I had no patience for men who hit women. No patience at all.
I pointed a finger at him. “I told you if you needed help to call me. No matter what. No matter when. We had a deal. I save your life, and you make the best of a second chance. I have been here for you, and then you go and do something stupid.”
Recognition lit his face. “It was an accident. I swear it—”
Just after my fist connected with his nose, he crumpled to the floor. Blood spurted out on both of us. “I don’t believe you.” I turned my back on him. “Now you know how it feels when someone puts a fist to your face. I can’t believe you’d do something like that. Idiot. Get your stuff together, and I’ll call Angel. You’re done here.”
I heard him shuffling behind me. “No. Please.” He began to weep. “I promise you, on my heart, it was an accident. I went to grab her. She was going to leave me. And it just happened. She walked into my fist.”
“There’s no such thing. I have a feeling she wanted to leave you because you’re using again.” I threw a hand up in the air. “You’ve been clean for seven years. Why?”
His normally toasty brown face had turned sallow. He held up his hands. “Please. Listen to me. It really isn’t what you or anyone else thinks. I’m not basing. It’s prescription drugs. I hurt my shoulder lifting boxes a few months ago and—I don’t know. It just happened. I needed more and more Vicodin to dull the pain. Then I started popping these diet pills to stay awake.”
I’d never say it out loud, but I did understand. Once an addict, always an addict. I’d heard it from my friends who had gone through rehab hundreds of times.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s prescribed or not. And you know better than to take something like Vicodin. Did you tell your doctor about your problem?”
He didn’t say a word. That he didn’t tell his personal physician the truth about his condition was a huge setback. I’d been through this with too many people. “Baron. You’re going back to rehab, or I’ll kick your ass again. Your choice.”
“I—” He looked down at Lourdes through the office window. “I didn’t mean it. I love her.” His voice broke. “She’s having my baby.”
Well that was screwy. “Then why the hell did you hit her? You really could have hurt her and the child.”
He took a deep breath. Tears fell down his cheek. “When she tried to leave, I grabbed for her. She turned around really fast to get away, and her face hit my fist. I know what it sounds like, I swear. But I love her. I’m not that guy.” He held up a hand. “Well, I’m an addict, but I wouldn’t abuse her. I can honestly say I’ve never intentionally hit a woman. I wouldn’t.”
Part of me felt sorry for him. I’d lost a lot of friends to drug and alcohol addiction. People liked to pretend that the rich and famous no longer dabbled in the hard stuff, except for the few celebrities who used it to get ahead in Hollywood. A good stint in rehab meant you might get an Oscar-winning role the next year. But the truth is, more people than not used in my circle. Too much money and too much time meant people turned to the easy way out to take care of their boredom. Prescription drugs, heroin, cocaine, it was all available and easy to come by if you had enough money.
Not me. I had my sisters to thank for that. If I’d ever even thought about doing drugs, they would have killed me. We made a pact as teens, and except for the occasional herbal remedy prepared by
That’s probably what you’ll say the next ten times it happens. I stomped up the stairs.
I found Baron in the office staring at the computer. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who would beat up his girlfriend. But he had.
“Want to explain how Lourdes got that bruise under her eye?”
He jumped up. “Alex? When did you get here?”
“How long, Baron?” I moved toward him. I had no patience for men who hit women. No patience at all.
I pointed a finger at him. “I told you if you needed help to call me. No matter what. No matter when. We had a deal. I save your life, and you make the best of a second chance. I have been here for you, and then you go and do something stupid.”
Recognition lit his face. “It was an accident. I swear it—”
Just after my fist connected with his nose, he crumpled to the floor. Blood spurted out on both of us. “I don’t believe you.” I turned my back on him. “Now you know how it feels when someone puts a fist to your face. I can’t believe you’d do something like that. Idiot. Get your stuff together, and I’ll call Angel. You’re done here.”
I heard him shuffling behind me. “No. Please.” He began to weep. “I promise you, on my heart, it was an accident. I went to grab her. She was going to leave me. And it just happened. She walked into my fist.”
“There’s no such thing. I have a feeling she wanted to leave you because you’re using again.” I threw a hand up in the air. “You’ve been clean for seven years. Why?”
His normally toasty brown face had turned sallow. He held up his hands. “Please. Listen to me. It really isn’t what you or anyone else thinks. I’m not basing. It’s prescription drugs. I hurt my shoulder lifting boxes a few months ago and—I don’t know. It just happened. I needed more and more Vicodin to dull the pain. Then I started popping these diet pills to stay awake.”
I’d never say it out loud, but I did understand. Once an addict, always an addict. I’d heard it from my friends who had gone through rehab hundreds of times.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s prescribed or not. And you know better than to take something like Vicodin. Did you tell your doctor about your problem?”
He didn’t say a word. That he didn’t tell his personal physician the truth about his condition was a huge setback. I’d been through this with too many people. “Baron. You’re going back to rehab, or I’ll kick your ass again. Your choice.”
“I—” He looked down at Lourdes through the office window. “I didn’t mean it. I love her.” His voice broke. “She’s having my baby.”
Well that was screwy. “Then why the hell did you hit her? You really could have hurt her and the child.”
He took a deep breath. Tears fell down his cheek. “When she tried to leave, I grabbed for her. She turned around really fast to get away, and her face hit my fist. I know what it sounds like, I swear. But I love her. I’m not that guy.” He held up a hand. “Well, I’m an addict, but I wouldn’t abuse her. I can honestly say I’ve never intentionally hit a woman. I wouldn’t.”
Part of me felt sorry for him. I’d lost a lot of friends to drug and alcohol addiction. People liked to pretend that the rich and famous no longer dabbled in the hard stuff, except for the few celebrities who used it to get ahead in Hollywood. A good stint in rehab meant you might get an Oscar-winning role the next year. But the truth is, more people than not used in my circle. Too much money and too much time meant people turned to the easy way out to take care of their boredom. Prescription drugs, heroin, cocaine, it was all available and easy to come by if you had enough money.
Not me. I had my sisters to thank for that. If I’d ever even thought about doing drugs, they would have killed me. We made a pact as teens, and except for the occasional herbal remedy prepared by
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