Protection is Best Served With Benefits: MM DDlb Romance

Chapter Four

Not edited or proofread.

Griffin

Max was quiet in my passenger seat, twisting his fingers nervously and staring out the window. He hadn't looked at me since we'd crossed into the south side of the city. I glanced at my GPS, seeing we were getting closer to the address he'd given me—an address he'd been reluctant to give, which I didn't fucking like.

What was my boy hiding from me? Did he think I would judge him for where he lived? I would never, but I did have to admit I was concerned. I knew Axel paid him well. So well, in fact, Max could live in the north side in a small apartment easily. Why did he live here? Where it was unsafe. Where a boy, as fucking adorable and twinkish as he was, could easily be taken advantage of. Hurt.

The mere thought made my blood pound hotly in my veins, and my fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

I slowly rolled to a stop outside of a rundown apartment building, and my stomach cramped as Max silently reached for the door handle. I quickly moved to follow, and he froze, turning to look at me with big, frightened eyes. Immediately, I cupped his cheek, protectiveness for this sweet boy sliding through my veins.

"Can you just stay here?" His voice trembled as he spoke, breaking my heart.

I shook my head instantly. "Not happening, baby boy." He sighed softly, his breath fanning over my skin, as he shut his eyes, his face dropping. I stroked my thumb over his soft skin. "Why are you so afraid?" He shook his head. I slid my fingers into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "Look at me, boy."

He slowly opened those pretty, dark eyes, locking them on mine. "I'm not going to judge you for where you live," I promised him. "I would never do that, sweet boy. But..." I looked around, sighing. "I can't, in good conscience, let you go up there alone."

He frowned at me. "But I literally live here, Grif." Fuck, I loved the way he shortened my name. "I walk around here alone all the time."

I shook my head. "Not anymore, you don't," I promised. I pulled him close and pressed my lips to his forehead. "Come on. Let's go upstairs so we can get started with our day."

After I released him, I reached into my glove compartment and pulled out my gun, sliding it into the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back. Max's eyes widened, but he didn't say a word. "Stay there until I come around," I ordered before sliding out of the driver's seat. I shut the door, discreetly taking stock of the area around me before I strode around the hood of the car to Max's side, opening the door for him.

He clasped his hand around mine and led me inside what was supposed to be the lobby. I was sure, at some point in history, this place was supposed to be nice. I was sure there was supposed to be a lobby attendant, a concierge service, etc. But it was empty. Three of the lights were out, making the lobby dim and uninviting. The mirror on the far side of the room was shattered, only fragments left in place. The paint was peeling, and it stank of garbage.

I wanted to demand he never come back here. Demand he either live with me or allow me to put him up in a nice apartment on the north side. But I bit my tongue, knowing it would drive my headstrong, determined-to-survive-on-his-own boy away from me.

That was the last thing I wanted.

We bypassed the elevators and headed for the staircase. The door was missing, and my stomach turned at the stench wafting down the stairs. Trash littered the steps, and I was pretty sure that was a piss puddle in the corner on the second landing.

I needed to convince my boy to let me take care of him. He couldn't continue living here.

His apartment was on the third floor, the second door on the left. When he inserted his key into the lock, the door rattled, sitting loose in its frame. I clenched my jaw and physically bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something to upset him, even if that wasn't my intention.