Valentina sat in her small kitchen, her butt cushioned by the small stool at her island.

She sipped tea in her large mug while watching her brother and Butcher practically tear the space apart to look for vulnerabilities. They'd been here a while. Butcher had a tool box out, replacing all the locks in her small home. Even the ones in her windows.

She supposed this madeup for his less-than-savory first impression.

It took a moment to get accustomed to the two in her space. She didn't have a lot of people over. Well, she had had no people over...ever. That made her apartment very sacred to her; it was her safe space, and to have the large men trampling in her space was very invasive.

After he'd torn everything apart, Valentina could see that Butcher noticed the obvious stress on her face. He'd put everything back to how it was even when she insisted he didn't have to. Even his tools were now all shoved into a corner and away from her things.

It didn't help that her brother was here. This current apartment had been saved from his presence, as she moved in after graduation. So having him here was not her favorite thing in the world. Butcher had sent him out of the door almost as soon as they got settled, though,to do the things he didn't feel like doing.

Jude had scoped out the parking garage, asked around the landlord's office, and struck up casual conversation. He said that he had warned the landlord about a crazy man matching their father's description who was lurking around to steal from the apartments.

Now that his tasks were done, her baby brother was back, and meandering over to the island.

Valentina glanced at him, then back to Butcher. His leather jacket had been taken off. She had turned up the AC to keep him cool but he didn't once complain either way. Brushing his hair back, he caught her observing him. He grunted, looking her over once before going back to what he was doing.

"You framed it." Jude was looking at the diploma in the frame above the island.

Valentina's low lidded eyes flicker from his face to the diploma. Her eyes twitched, thendarted back to the window she'd been staring out of. "People do that."

Her apartment was a one bedroom, so it was small. Despite the soft music in the background, she knew that even if Butcher was head-first in her damn toilet he'd be able to hear this conversation clearly.

"You're not still mad...are you?" Jude asked.

Valentina huffed a little, adding an obnoxious amount of honey to her drink while muttering to herself in a broken string of Spanish mixed with English.

"Still mad? No, I've forgiven you for standing me up for my graduation without an apology. And for moving out of the apartment during the ceremony so you wouldn't have to deal with me. And for randomly joining a motorcycle club and going low contact after we lived together for three—almost four—years."

Jude opened his mouth but shut it quickly. Butcher, who'd been hammering, had slowed to a stop at the bite in her words.

"I-I'm sorry. You have to believe me..."

"That's convenient," she snorted into the pink mug.

"Jude!" Butcher barked as he glanced up boredly. Both of the siblings' attention was caught.

"Go check out the business across from here, find out where the best views into the apartment are, and mark them with painters tape."

"It's raining—"

"Now." Butcher gruffed, leaving no more room for discussion.

Jude gave her a parting look she didn't return before he left.

Swallowing down the rest of her tea, Valentina heard her coffee machine finishing up.

Grabbing a mug, she eyed Butcher who was crouched by her window. It seemed like he'd gotten the heavy duty locks in place. Slowly, she meandered her way over and sat in the little nook surrounded by the windows. He glanced up from where he knelt in front of the tool box right by her crossed legs.

"Coffee?" She held it out without giving him much of a choice.

His large hand wrapped around her gigantic mug, making it seem normal-sized. Her head tilted, watching the man put away his drill.

"Do ya always stare like that?" he asked.

Valentina jumped a bit at his blunt, somewhat annoyed question. Now that she'd heard him talk a little more she could clearly hear what sounded like a Southern accent. It was nowhere near as thick as Gunner's, but it was definitely there now that it was just the two of them speaking. It made everything he said sound so smokey that it was hard to focus on his actual words.

"When there's a man I'm not familiar with doing handiwork in my house to make sure my psycho father doesn't break in...yes."

Butcher's brows rose a little, tilting his head as if to say, touche. But otherwise his face didn't change.

"Do you like doing this stuff?"

Butcher side glanced. "Babysitting?"

Valentina's jaw dropped in offense. "Fixing things." Her tone was clipped as she crossed her arms tightly.

The biker shrugged without answering further, leaning down to clean up his tool box. He threw everything inside of it with very little care, and as he did so Valentina caught sight of a chain around his neck falling from his shirt. It looked like a set of traditional dog tags.

When he stood up with everything packed, he tucked it back into his shirt immediately.

"The locks are all changed. Added a dead bolt on the door. Checked everything security-wise and did what I could. I'll get a doorbell camera set up by the weekend."

Valentina nodded while tightening her grip on the mug in her hand. Once again, the severity of the situation hit her square in the face. "Have you done stuff like this before? You seem pretty familiar with...all of this."

Butcher grunted out a noise. "Deal with assholes everyday. It's just another day, just another problem to fix for the club." He rolled his neck while rubbing at his shoulder.

"Are you-are you going to be driving to and from work with me? I was confused about that part."

Butcher sighed, it was coated in annoyance but he nodded once.

Her chest twinged at the thought of being a burden. "You can just tell Gunner that you are. I'll be able to make it there and back—"

"Shut up," he cut her off abruptly. Her eyes widened at his harsh tone and baritone voice.

"Every week you're going to send me your work schedule. You're going to give me a key, I'm going to show up a half hour before your shift and fifteen minutes before it ends to take you to and from. Got it?"

She blinked in surprise, but nodded nonetheless as he barked the orders. His phone dropped in her lap as soon as she did. It was unlocked and she could only assume she was supposed to add in her contact number.

Meekly, she did just that.

Butcher watched with much scrutiny until he saw her hands shaking just slightly as she placed his phone down gently beside him.  Turning away from her, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Cursing quietly, he grit his teeth.

"I texted my phone from yours, so I could add your contact and send you the schedules," she whispered while standing back up. Her shoulders were slumped as she walked back, almost bumping into the couch, but she managed to get into the kitchen as she gave the angry man his space.

Nodding, he looked towards her room. Out of it sauntered a black cat he hadn't seen once since combing through the entire damn apartment. It had long hair, with yellow eyes narrowed on him. Suddenly it hissed loudly at the comically large biker.

Seeing Butcher glare at it, Valentina quickly went to scratch under the pussy cat's chin.

"This is Ziggy. She doesn't like new people. She hides under my bed," she explained as the cat aggressively rubbed against her as if to scent her and claim her from the rowdy biker. Valentina lifted her up, allowing their noses to smush together before setting her gently onto the couch.

Grunting as usual, Butcher stood to his full height while looking at her a little weird. "I'm leaving with your brother now. I'll let you know when I'll be back tomorrow."

Valentina was surprised at the abrupt exit, but she supposed she wasn't sure what to expect, exactly.

"Okay." She rolled her lips before suddenly remembering something. "Oh shit." He glanced back as she cursed and rushed to get something from atop the fridge.

The woman, however, was pitifully jumping to slap her hand across the top. He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath, striding the short distance over.

Seeing the cluttered top clearly, he could assume what she was grabbing at. Before he could grab it she abruptly shoved her body against his, effectively getting him out of the way. Her face was determined but in reality she didn't do much against his sturdy frame. Butcher only shuffled over a few inches—not even a foot. Her dark eyes narrowed.

"I can do it," she huffed in her thick accent. Sliding her knee over, she hiked herself up onto the counter.

His eyes naturally darted to her ass, the thin leggings doing nothing for coverage, really. The fabric was a joke. The clothing company should be ashamed.  They were very clearly sheer and Butcher felt his throat tighten.

His amber eyes darted up to the ceiling. Oh god, he didn't need to be thinking about her underwear right now. Not right now.

She made a noise of accomplishment and practically tumbled off the counter. Going against his normal body's reaction of avoiding physical touch, Butcher found himself lurching forward to grip her sides. He steadied her stiffly.

Valentina's wide eyes slid down to his intense gaze, her shallow breaths hitching anxiously.  The bare, calloused skin of his hands was brushing her own soft torso. Her shirt slid up traitorously, and she could practically feel the years of work he put in with his hands. It was as if they told stories through the callouses.

Butcher's mind glazed over. In the back of his head he was irritable, but he couldn't move away for a moment. He froze. He hadn't frozen in so long. Not for something like this, never for anything like this.

A few seconds passed, with their open staring continuing, before Valentina slowly lifted a key up from on top of the fridge. Both of them looked at it as if it wer an intruder.

"Here," she croaked. Taking his hands from her as if he were burned, he snatched the key. Sliding it into his pocket, he turned away as he felt his face and neck grow hot. From his profile she could see his ears go red against his pale, freckled skin. It almost matched his red-brown hair.

Valentina almost bit her knuckle. Why was that so fucking cute? Quickly clearing her throat awkwardly, she spoke up.

"Don't...don't be weird with it. I didn't give it to Gunner, I didn't give it to my brother, I gave it to you. I don't want them having it. I'm trusting you."

Butcher's brows quirked a little but he nodded nonetheless. The key was burning a hole in his pocket the same way her words burned into his mind. Trust... She was trusting him.

"Go get my brother out of the rain now please," Valentina sighed.

Remembering how the asshole was probably miserable all because of his orders, Butcher smirked meanly, tempted to leave the fuckwad stuck out there. Snagging his tool box he gave her one more parting look. "Lock the door behind me." The burly man pointed to it sternly.

Valentina leaned against the counter, saluting obediently. "Yes boss."

He grunted, mildly pleased with the response, and nodded before walking out. The lock clicked into place moments after.