Desolation
Page 2“Earth to Pippa?”
I jerk at the sound of Santana’s voice, and turn to see her standing with Molly tucked into her side. Molly is three now, and is the most gorgeous little girl I’ve ever met. She’s got the dark features of her momma, but she has her daddy’s eyes. Molly is somewhat of an exotic beauty. Her dark hair is lightly curled in perfect little ringlets and her eyes are as blue as the sky.
I kneel down, “Hello, Molly girl.”
“Aunty Pippa,” she says in her cute, tiny girl voice.
“Are you being a good girl today?”
She nods, her eyes bright.
“That’s good, because if you keep being good, Mommy is going to let you come sleep over this weekend.”
“I am?” Santana asks.
I stand and smile at her. “Yes, you are. I’m not working, I’d love to have her.”
“Maddox would like it.” She smiles. “Molly has been somewhat of a handful.”
“Never,” I say softly, staring down at my niece.
“You just wait, Pippa.” She grins, then her eyes go towards Tyke and the subject quickly changes. “I really don’t like her. She is the wrong girl for him.”
I huff out a breath and turn, staring at the beautiful blond woman Tyke has been dating for the past two months. Her name is Andi, and she’s not my kind of person. She’s arrogant and rude—only to me, of course. She doesn’t like the friendship Tyke and I have and she makes it known to me every chance she gets. To everyone else she is the picture of angelic behavior.
“And the right girl is?” I question, still watching Tyke.
“You, silly,” Santana says.
My cheeks heat, and I whisper, “Stop it, Tana. You know Tyke and I are only friends.”She snorts. “Sure, Pippi, friends.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, nodding, and turning her eyes back to Andi.
I follow her gaze again, and let my eyes run over Tyke. He takes my breath away every single time I look at him. He’s one of the most stunning men I’ve ever met. Sure, Maddox, Krypt and Mack are all gorgeous, but they’re good looking in the rugged, grunting type of way. Tyke is different. He’s sweeter, yet equally as rough in his appearance.
His russet-colored hair has grown out a little in the last few months, and is now hanging over his forehead. It has that perfectly messy look that makes it seem like he’s just rolled out of bed. His eyes are the most amazing mix of colors—dark brown with light chocolate flecks. His jaw is hard, square and entirely masculine. His body is big and hard and beautiful.
As beautiful as him.
As if he feels Santana and my stares, he turns. He smiles, a big, wide, gorgeous smile, and my heart flutters. Santana gives him a finger wave and I smile shyly. Tyke is one of the few people I trust as much as my sister. That’s just something we’ve developed over the years. He makes me feel safe. He feels a whole lot like home.
He is slowly recovering from his leg injury, and is actually doing the exercises he’s been handed to make him regain strength. He was in a serious accident a few years before I was saved, and his legs were crushed. For years he lived with little to no feeling from the knees down, but these days he’s starting to regain some of that feeling back, though he still needs to spend some time in his chair, because he gets a lot of pain if he’s on his feet too long.
I watch as Andi looks over to us, too, and she gives a sickly sweet, fake smile. “I want to smack that fake shit right off her face,” Santana grunts. “She thinks I can’t see through her, but I totally can.”
“Tana, it isn’t our business,” I say under my breath.
I sigh. “No, but that’s not our choice.”
She doesn’t say any more, because Tyke and Andi are heading over, he’s leaning on her a little for balance. When they reach us, Tyke lets go of Andi’s hand and leans down, curling his fingers around the back of my neck like he always does, and kisses my forehead. His lips linger for a good long while, and I sigh at how amazing it feels to have contact with him.
“How you doin’, little one?”
He’s called me ‘little one’ for more than a year now. He said it’s because I’m the smallest woman he’s ever met. I know why that is—it’s because from a young age, I was starved of decent food, first when Santana and I were cast out onto the streets, and then when I was sold to Artreau. Because of that, my body didn’t grow the way most women’s do.
I’m just over five foot tall, and no matter how much I eat, I can’t seem to hold weight. I’m not as skinny as I was when Santana saved me, but I don’t have any curves and I don’t like that. I’ve tried all types of products to gain weight, and they’ve worked, but I have come to accept the curvy part will just never happen.
I tilt my head back and look up at Tyke. “Hi Tyke.”
“I haven’t seen you around here for a few weeks. I called last night, you didn’t answer.”