Page 32 of Enemies with Benefits

"Mhmm. And at school, with my friends, and the girls I dated."

His eyes widened. “Did you yell at them?"

"Sometimes. And sometimes I said some...not very nice things too."

"Did you hit them?"

My hands flexed roughly against my leg, and I bit out a harsh groan. “No. Never."

He didn't jerk away from me, but he definitely flinched at the harshness in my voice, and I had to take a deep breath and remind myself that he was just a kid and he didn't understand...well, a lot of things. But he definitely didn't understand just how horrifying a question that had been or how badly it stung.

"Sorry," I muttered. "No, I never hit them when I was angry, no matter how mad I got."

He nodded. “Did they hit you?"

I raised a brow, now following the train of thought, and nodded. “It happened a couple of times."

"Did you hit them back?"

"No."

"Mom says that I shouldn't ever let anyone hit me. Not even girls."

"That...sounds exactly like the kind of advice your mom would give," I said with a snort I couldn't hold back. Moira had always despised the idea that anyone should hold back with her if she was putting that kind of energy out there. She'd told memore than once that if she was ever bold enough to hit a man, then she wouldn't pretend to be horrified when they turned around and hit her back. Of course, she'd never felt that bold as far as I knew. I was glad about it because I didn't want her to find out if someone she hit was willing to put her beliefs to the test. "But she's right, hitting people just because you're mad at them is not good. It's something I wish I'd learned a lot sooner than I did. Maybe it would have saved me a lot of trouble."

"Were you a bad kid?” he asked with all the bluntness and innocence of a child who had no idea what kind of ground he was walking all over with zero grace or consideration.

"Some people thought I was."

"Okay, butwereyou?"

"Are you asking if I thought I was a bad kid?"

"Yeah," he asked, and the 'duh' was unspoken.

"Okay," I chuckled, marveling at his ability to instinctively drive straight to the heart of a problem and yet be completely ignorant of what he was doing. "No, sometimes I was an angry kid, and I didn't know what I was doing a lot of the time, but I wasn't bad. I just needed help."

At that, he scrunched up his nose. “Mom says there's lots of kids out there who need help...but they don't get it like they're supposed to."

"She's right."

"That sucks."

Jesus, and out of the mouth of babes indeed. “You're right, it does."

"You're a police officer...right?"

"I am."

"Do you help kids that need help?"

"I...sometimes."

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why sometimes?"