Chapter 2The Guardian's Trap: Claiming His Little Ward

"How old are you?" His tone was frivolous.

Feeling a dangerously unusual vibe, I violently pulled myself away. My back slammed into the wooden liquor cabinet, hurting so much it messed up my breathing.

"I'm... I'll be eighteen in less than a month."

The man's gaze slid over my chest. He didn't believe me.

Until he spotted the high school textbooks sitting on the counter nearby.

He believed me.

"Fuck." The cigarette slipped from Vaughn’s fingers and fell to the floor. He looked annoyed and embarrassed. "You're an underage kid, and you're out here watching the shop in the middle of the night?"

"My... my dad told me to."

He looked incredibly angry. I was so scared I shrank into the corner. My nose stung, and I let out a few pathetic, stifled sobs.

Hearing me cry, Vaughn rubbed his temples in frustration and buttoned up his previously loose shirt.

He left.

I thought he wouldn't stay here anymore.

But a little while later, he came back holding several large shopping bags.

"I've never coaxed a kid before."

"Eat this, and you're not allowed to cry anymore."

He tossed the bags to me. I opened them and saw food, snacks, and gadgets—things I always wanted but could never afford.

I was a little happy. But not just because of the gifts.

After doing all that, Vaughn didn't rush upstairs. Instead, he lay back in the wicker chair by the door, closing his eyes to rest.

He didn't say a word. But I knew he was intentionally staying with me, giving me courage in the dark.

He probably didn't know.

That was the safest, most peaceful night I had experienced since my mom died.