He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. The chimes clanged, and I wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened.

“He’s a dick,” Mathieu said, coming up behind me.

“Yeah. He’s a piece of work.”

“He treat your ma like that the whole time they’ve been married?”

I thought of the disgust, the disdain, and the absolute iron fist with which he laid out his orders.

“Pretty much.”

“Total dick.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say. He was a dick. He’d just threatened to divorce my mother if I didn’t fall in line. Who did that? Someone who didn’t plan to stay married to her for much longer, regardless.

“Did you call Lord?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s on his way.”

It seemed that all the bad shit happened when Lord left the shop. He was right; I wasn’t staying here without him again. Who knew what would happen next. Would the Devil himself walk right through that door and steal my soul?

My mind went back to Denton. Such a prick. And I was a horrible daughter, because for a split second, I actually considered what it would take for my mother to continue being Denton’s problem. But no way in hell. I’d wanted her to be free of him since the day I’d found out they were getting married. So fuck him. I’d never bend to his wishes—which meant I’d be responsible for my mother losing the life to which she’d become accustomed. Her safety and stability. Her marriage.

Shit.

The back door opened, and I’d never heard a sound quite so comforting as the thud of Lord’s boots on the floor.

“He’s gone?”

“He’s gone,” Mathieu answered. I was still spacing over Denton’s threat.

“You okay?”

I looked up and met Lord’s concerned blue eyes, and everything surged inside me and the walls broke.

I came around the counter and barreled into him. Lord caught me and wrapped me in his strong arms.

Strong. Solid. Steady.

He was all of those things.

And I was none of them.

I burst into tears.

He didn’t try to quiet me. Didn’t ask why I was crying. He just held me and stroked my hair while my sobs soaked the front of his T-shirt.

I had no idea how much time passed before I lifted my head and snuffled.

“Everything’s such a mess.”

“You tell me what’s a mess, and we’ll fix it. Don’t doubt it.” He tucked a section of my hair behind my ear. “You know I hate seeing you cry.”

I snuffled again and lifted a hand to swipe at my tears, but Lord beat me to it. His thumb gently brushed below each of my eyes, and I blinked back the remainder poised to fall.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.

“First thing, we get rid of these tears. Everything else can wait. Including tarring and feathering your stepdad for making you cry.”

My snort laugh wasn’t sexy, but the visual of Denton running around looking like a chicken was a helpful one.

And then I remembered the paper. I bit my lip. How would Lord feel about that? Right this second it was easier to worry about the side of my ass being printed in full color for the citizens of New Orleans to see than the havoc I was about to wreak on my mother’s life.

“My ass is sort of on the front page of the society section. Well, side cheek—if that’s a thing. Like side boob? I don’t know. But it’s there.” I blurted the words out in a disjointed tumble.

Lord’s brow furrowed. “Side boob? What the hell?”

I started to pull away, but Lord didn’t let me go. “Nope, you’re stuck staying close to me until we sort out whatever got you charging into my arms.”

“Then do we walk together like we’re in a three-legged race? Because the picture is on the counter.”

I heard movement, and then Lord unwrapped one arm from around my back and grabbed the paper from Mathieu’s outstretched hand. He held it out so we could both see the picture.

It wasn’t a bad one. It wasn’t even that revealing.

“If that’s side cheek, I like it,” he said.

“You’re not pissed my ass is in the paper?”

His lips quirked as he read the headline aloud. Society Princesses Find Tattooed Princes: Bad Boys Get The Girls.

“Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you. Besides, I like the top picture. No disputing your gorgeous ass belongs to me.”

The old Elle would’ve bristled at his outright statement of ownership. The new Elle … she was surprisingly okay with it.

“You did get the girl. They weren’t lying about that.”

The sound of shuffling behind us signaled that Mathieu was moving away and giving us some privacy.

I swallowed, realizing what I’d just said. It was probably the most honest I’d ever been with Lord about my feelings.

He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine. “Did I get the girl, Elle?”

I nodded. “But when I tell you the rest, I’m not sure you’re going to want to keep her.”

“There’s not a damn thing you could tell me that would make me let you go.”

“Even if I told you Denton said I had to drop you and quit this job.”

Lord’s expression turned hard. “Fuck that dick. You’ve never bowed down to him in your life, so why the hell would you start now?”

“Because he’s going to throw my mother out on the street if I don’t.”

Lord’s head reared back, but his arm never loosened. “What the fuck kind of threat is that?”

“I don’t know. He seems to have reached the end of his patience with Snyder women.”

“His loss.”

The way Lord summed it up was so simple. So final. But he didn’t understand the whole of it.

“But then she becomes my issue.”

Lord’s jaw tensed. “She’s your ma, not an issue.”

“I know, but she’s got a lot of issues, and they’re going to all become mine.”

“Do you have any idea what I’d give to have been your age when my ma was spiraling out of control? When she needed someone to pick her up and get her help so she didn’t keep on the path that ended with her dead in a gutter?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t save her because I was just a kid. But you can save your ma, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”