Tattoo Lust

A Tattoo Romance

Collection

TATTOO LUST COLLECTION

Copyright © 2020.

All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: May 2020

Limitless Publishing, LLC

Kailua, HI 96734

www.limitlesspublishing.com

Formatting: Book Pages By Design

Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Design

ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-878-3

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

BLOOD & RUST

By Skyla Madi

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chaper Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

FOREVER WITH YOU

By Jennifer LaBelle

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Epilogue

PIECE OF ME

By Nicky Shanks

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Bonus Chapter One

Bonus Chapter Two

TATTOO KILLER

By A.J. Norris

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTEr TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

CHAPTER SIXTY

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

CHAPTER SEVENTY

BONUS CHAPTER

THE TATTOOED MANIAC'S VIRGIN

By Suzi De Beer

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Epilogue

Blood & Rust

New York Crime Kings

Round One

By Skyla Madi

Pronunciation Of The Name Jai

Jai=Jye

It rhymes with pie.

Mmm, pie.

Chapter One

The First Mistake

The lights in the train car flicker as we pass through another tunnel. I let it pull my attention from my e-book on nursing etiquette and I glance around the train. I hadn’t noticed how many people have gotten off since I first stepped on. The once full car is now empty leaving only me, a snoozing old lady and a hooded, broad-shouldered man with his back turned. I guess we’re all from the same part of town. Poor bastards…and I mean that in every sense of the term. We’ve long since passed both upper and middle New York. From here on out, luxury isn’t a word anyone knows.

As we exit a tunnel, the lights above me stabilize and I let my attention float out the window. Masses of colors and shapes blur past. I’ve always liked graffiti, or at least the pretty kind. Nothing brightens your day quite like a good painting of an animal in a hoodie telling the government to go fuck itself. It’s nice to see the constant shades of gray, black and white broken up by a rebellious streak of color. Even when it’s dark like this, at one a.m., it’s nice to have something stand out in what feels like a never-ending blackness.

I return my attention back to my book and read the words on the screen. I try to become intrigued even though I’ve lost my place. I haven’t been a student nurse for long. I’ve learnt enough to know how to dress a wound and insert a cannula, but that’s the extent of it. I spend most of my time watching other nurses, learning as much as I can through them, not with my head stuck in books. I’ve never been good with reading. It never sticks and, as a result of that, I now spend every minute of my life outside of the hospital studying for the exam in three weeks. I’m a hands-on kind of girl, one who chose nursing as a career not only to help people, but for the thrill of not knowing what’s going to come through the door each second. I crave suspense and the unknown. I live off the flurry of excitement and nervousness that comes with surprise.

Strangely, my skin prickles at the thought, like it knows something I don’t, and a loose tendril of excitement twists around my spine. Subtly, I shiver and relish in the feeling, until the random bout of excitement disintegrates and I feel nothing once more.

A crackly voice blares through the speakers announcing my stop, but I don’t need anyone to remind me where I live. I’m aware of it—hyperaware. I couldn’t forget, even if I wanted to.

I reach for the large, brown bag at my feet and pull on the strap, slinging it around my neck and adjusting it between my breasts. It’s heavy and my spine complains as it takes on the weight. Ignoring it, I fumble with my tablet, closing the flap on its screen before the train has arrived at the platform. As the brakes screech and the sound of the slowing wheels becomes more prominent, I move from my seat and into the aisle. I keep my eyes downcast to my black runners, mentally ticking off my checklist, making sure I've got everything.

I grip the pole in the middle and wait patiently as the screeching sound of train brakes echoes through my carriage. The vibrations seize my shoes and tingle up my legs, like a million tiny spiders, as metal clings desperately to metal in a desperate attempt to get the train to stop. Eventually, it slows before finally grinding to a halt. I feel a large body move into the space beside me, but I don’t bother to lift my eyes. Living in this part of the city, I’ve learnt to keep to my own. Something as simple as a glance in the wrong direction can get you in trouble, and trouble is the last thing I need at this time of night.

Two distinct dings chime through the train car and a recording of a robotic woman thanks us and reminds us to watch our step. I linger for a few seconds before the doors pull open with a groan. I move forward before they fully open, and conveniently, so does the stranger beside me. What the fuck happened to common courtesy? Ladies before gentlemen?

With a squeak, I bounce off of the man’s large frame and into the edge of the door. The door shudders as I collide with it and I curse as the tablet I clench in my left hand slips from my grasp and crashes to the dirty, concrete floor, along with my stomach. I stumble forward in an attempt to regain my balance and I manage to, but the cracked screen of my tablet is long gone. Irredeemable. And I don’t have the goddamn money to fix it.

I look up at the man in the black hoodie with the broad shoulders. He keeps walking, his shoulders square and his head down, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder.

“Hey!” I shout after him, but he doesn’t turn around.

I scoop up my tablet and clasp it against my chest. I look east, in the direction of my home, but the rude stranger heads west. Common sense tells me to forget about it, to not follow the large stranger into the shadows, but my empty, moth-eaten wallet demands he replace what he broke. My hunger and hardship team with my pride. There’s no way common sense has a chance. It’s stupid to risk my life for money, but these are dark times and money is the only thing keeping me from throwing myself off the Brooklyn Bridge.

Behind me, the doors of the train close and I hear the brakes release the tracks. Despite my better judgment, I march in direction of the stranger, leaving my sanity and an empty train behind me.

***

Blood.

I hate the taste of it. Even so, I let the metallic tang trickle over my taste buds. A fresh bout of fear flares through my system and I bite down on the inside of my lower lip to keep my body from trembling violently. I follow the man in the hood down a dark alley and into a former industrial area. Rundown warehouses and abandoned machinery litter the space, all of it forgotten by the ever-modernizing world. I purse my lips, worried the rapid sound of my terrified heart will escape through my mouth and awaken whoever and whatever is hiding in the rusted corners of the wasteland. Right now, the tall man who smashed my tablet isn’t my biggest concern. Spiders and tetanus, however…I shudder.

I’ve called out to the stranger a hundred times, but he doesn’t react. I’d thought he was being ignorant until he’d plucked an iPod from the pocket of his hood and scrolled briefly before stuffing it back in.

He can’t hear me.

Great.

Heavy, gray clouds block the glow of the moon and a cold thread of regret slithers down my spine as I follow him further into the dim, industrial abyss. Tall, steel and beaten warehouses tower over us, but the stranger doesn’t glance around him, not even once. It seems he’s comfortable here, much more comfortable than I am. Then again, if I were a man of his size there’d be little I’d be scared of too. A lot of words come to mind when I look at him, but prey is definitely not one of them.

He walks without a care, as if he were going for a casual midnight stroll, but his wide shoulders are held with purpose and determination. His shoes, an expensive pair of thick, white sneakers, barely scuff against the crunchy rubble under his feet. I, however, make no attempt to quieten my steps. Under my worn, black sneakers rocks crumble and small pieces of tin, metal and glass all grind against each other.

“Hey!” I try again. This time, my voice comes out less confident and more uncertain.

To my left something scatters, sending my heart into my throat. Suddenly out of breath, I squeeze my busted tablet closer to my chest and swallow hard as the stranger slows to a stop and peers to the left. I hold my breath while he turns, confused. Then, he spots me and he pulls his brows together, making shadows pool in the hollows of his face.

He’s dangerous.

That much is clear.

In a slow movement, he reaches for the cord to his ear buds, and with a swift tug they fall. When all of his attention is on me, I notice immediately that the light shining down from an emergency post offers no real service. If I had to pick this man out of a police line-up tomorrow, I’d have no idea. The shadows make it impossible for me to get a proper look at his face.

I clear my throat in an attempt to drag up some confidence. “You broke my—”

He shoots forward and I squeal, dropping my tablet. The stranger’s large, heavy hands grab my shoulders and he shoves me to the side. I stumble and squeeze my eyes shut. I expect to slam into the large, metal warehouse beside me, but instead he catches me again, his fingers digging into the flesh on my arm with bruising pressure. He slams me into the warehouse and I grit my teeth, keeping my eyes tightly closed. My spine aches against the rigid metal and all I hear is the sound of my heart hammering relentlessly in my ears. Amongst it, I think I hear my brain chastising me, calling me an idiot.

“Are you out of your mind?” he bites out.

My lips part and I splutter as I open my eyes. I take in the man’s dark features, each curved in anger. His full lips purse over gritted teeth and his nostrils flare. I remain frozen with fear, paralyzed by the man who holds me against the wall. I don’t know this man. I don’t know his triggers or his intent. One wrong word or move and my life could end. His irises, their color undistinguishable in this light, flick over my face. He glances at my chest and I become hyperaware of the speed at which it rises and falls. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

I don’t love my life—not like most people do anyway. I’ve wanted off the earth a million times before, but now it’s a possibility I’ve never appreciated my life more—no matter how abysmal it is. The broken tablet is no longer on my mind. It’s not worth my life and I’ll forget about it—I’ll even leave it in the rubble if it means making it back to my apartment tonight.

After he’s done analyzing my terrified state the man backs away cautiously, with the palms of his hands exposed and I let out a shaky exhale, ignoring the tremors that threaten to shake me to my foundations. After a few short eternities, he arches a brow and I realize he wants me to speak—to explain myself. I swallow hard and it’s painfully dry.

“You broke my tablet,” I manage to croak out.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, pushing his hood off of his head and exposing short, spiky jet-black hair.

Even without his pressure, I remain glued to the metal wall, my heart pounding in my throat. I could run, but how far would I get? This man is quick, much quicker than me, and I’ve never been much of a runner. He rakes his fingers through his hair, pulling slightly. “You need to get out of here.”

I frown. Just like that? “You’re letting me go?”

He angles his head, allowing the shadows to swallow up his face. If I could imagine the expression he was pulling, it’d be a confused one, like mine. “I have no reason to keep you. If you’re smart, you’ll run as fast as you can.”

He doesn’t want to hurt me, and strangely, the thought fills me with confidence. Or maybe it’s desperation. I can’t study without my tablet. If I don’t study, I’ll fail and if I fail, I’ll have nothing left. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you replace my tablet.”

The confidence doesn’t quite reach my voice, but at least I found the balls to bring up what he did. I can’t see his face, but I’m pretty sure I hear the smile on his lips.

“I broke your tablet?”

I nod, curling my fingers around the strap of my bag and twisting nervously. “On the train. You pushed past me coming out the doors and I dropped it.”

He folds his strong, thick arms tightly over his chest. “And you chased me into an abandoned industrial site? For what?”

I push off the wall. “To tell—”

“To demand I replace what I supposedly broke?”

With a nod, I sigh, exasperated. I need him to replace it. Without it, I have to go an hour or two out of my way to the library after my shifts and that’s not realistic for me. Of course, there’s no way I can force him to replace what he broke, but I’m hoping the universe gives me a break. Just this once. I need it.

Silence falls as he gives me an overt once over. I wonder what he sees. A small, desperate nurse who can’t even afford a comfortable pair of shoes? Or a liar? To him, I could be a crazy woman looking for a handout.

“You need crack money?” he asks, his voice dead serious.

“What?” I spit, inching forward. “No. I’m a nurse.”

“If you get your drugs for free, then what do you want with me?”

“I don’t need drugs. I—” I pause and let out an exasperated sigh. “All I want is for you to replace what you broke. So just fix it and I’ll be on my way.”

“What the fuck do you expect me to do?” He gestures around him, dramatically. “Do you see any electronic shops around here? Would any be open at this time?” He steps closer. “Look, lady, I’m not messing around. You need to get out of here before—”

He’s cut off by a loud clank that seems to vibrate up the entire height of the warehouse. The noise sounds creepy and dooming, and I’m sure it echoes for miles.

“What is that?” I ask, creeping closer to him.

His entire body is taut and tense, but in this moment I find more comfort in the huge stranger than the waking warehouse.

The stranger clears his throat. “That is your biggest mistake.”

Chapter Two

The Warehouse

The stranger’s warm hand wraps around my exposed elbow and he tugs me behind him. If my heart was hammering before, now it pounds relentlessly, moving blood quicker than my body can keep up with. I let his large frame shield me from the endless clanking and curses coming from the enormous, delivery bay door. I pray the large man I followed into this industrial site is big enough to handle whatever comes out of it.

“Run,” he demands over his shoulder in a harsh whisper. “Now.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I jolt away from him and immediately scan the ground for my tablet. Maybe repairing it will cost less than replacing. Thankfully, I spot it three feet to my right and I jump towards it. I bend low and scoop it up, not bothering to dust off the dirt.

But it’s too late.

Whatever he wanted me to run from drenches me in a bright light. Squinting, I lift my hand to block it, but it’s no use. I can’t see a thing. Eventually the spotlight falls away, illuminating the inside of the bare warehouse instead of my face. The man in charge of the spotlight is unlike anyone I’ve seen before. He’s huge and his facial scars…whoa.

Worried my stare will offend the man, I drop it to the battered gray tank that somehow manages to cover the large expanse of his chest. Still, I can’t keep my mind of his injuries. Whatever happened to his face must’ve hurt. I flick my attention back to his marred skin. It’s as if a whip with fifty ends had lashed him right across his flesh.

“Wasn’t expecting two of you, Stone,” he grumbles in a husky, baritone voice.

Two of us? He thinks we’re here together? Fuck no. I’m not being lumped in with him.

“Oh.” I step forward and the stranger, Stone, flinches toward me, the warning clear in his deep, ocean-like eyes.

Wow.

In the dark I didn’t see his face, but now, in the light, every corner of it is exposed, leaving no chance for a single shadow to obscure his features.

If I’d seen his face sooner, I never would have been so scared. Intimidated, maybe, but not scared. He’s easily the most attractive guy I’ve seen this side of the tracks—a strong jaw with subtle scruff, pink, full lips and by the looks of it, he has all of his teeth in his mouth.

Clearing my throat, I look back to the other man. “I’m not here with h—”

“Two,” Stone cuts in, stuffing one hand into the pocket of his baggy, black shorts. “That’s what I told Skull.” From his pocket, he pulls out two fat rolls of money and I gasp. “If you’ve got a problem with my money, take it up with him.”

The man surveys the money in Stone’s hand and so do I. I’ve never seen so much green. Each roll has to hold at least ten grand, easily.

The man I’ve decided to insensitively name ‘Scarface’ grins, exposing glistening pearly whites. Astonishing, given his appearance. “There’s no problem.”

He steps forward with open hands and Stone drops the dense rolls of money into his palms. Scarface weighs them in his grasp before eventually stuffing them into his pockets. Then his coal irises flick onto me. I almost flinch at the direct sight of him. As I look over his gnarly face, my own begins to ache. His gaze rakes me from head to toe and he seems amused by my deep purple scrubs. Normally I change after my shift, but I’d decided to skip on that tonight, willing to risk the germs I’ll bring home to my apartment. The way I see it is, whatever bacteria and bodily fluids are on my scrubs at the end of a long shift are undoubtedly on every surface of my home. It comes complimentary with a rental as cheap as mine.

“You sure your girl can handle herself down there?” Scarface asks, his stare stopping on my chest.

Pig.

I peer at Stone. Down where? Where are we going and why does he have to pay so much money to get there?

Stone’s eyes narrow in. “Don’t you worry about her. She’s meaner than she looks.”

His blue eyes clash with mine and I see through his words. I also see sympathy and frustration.

“Alright.” Scarface exhales, stepping aside. “You’re in.”

Stone reaches out and snags me by my elbow, making me drop my tablet once again. It crashes to the concrete floor, sending pieces darting in every direction. I wince as he digs in the tips of his fingers and pulls me into the entry of the warehouse. Struggling against him, I spare a glance over my shoulder. There’s no repairing my tablet now…there’s no passing my exam.

Stone tugs me hard against him, forcing my attention to the room. The ceiling is tall, tall enough to house a jetliner, and the windows are a shitty plastic you can’t see out of. It smells like blood and dead animals; not a big difference from outside, but noticeable enough. Right in the middle of the room I see two open, steel doors and I spot the first of many steps that descend into darkness. Where does it lead? What will we see at the bottom of those stairs and what did Stone pay so much money to get access to? I shiver at the thought.

“Please tell me we’re not going down there?” I whisper, pulling against his grip.

“That’s exactly where we’re going.”

I dig my heels in, desperate to free my arm from his grasp.

“Let me go!” I snap under my breath, clenching my jaw when his fingers tighten.

Fear and desperation curl in thick strands and wrap themselves around my stomach. I’m a second away from throwing up or passing out. This has to be a dream. A sick, confusing dream. With my free hand I slap at him, but he seems unfazed. I’m causing a scene in hopes of Scarface interfering and letting me leave. Surely he can tell I don’t want to be here? I hear Scarface laugh and now the thought seems stupid—wasted. Why would he care? I thrash violently, slapping with all my might. Black strands of hair fall from my ponytail and stick to my clammy forehead.

“Slapping? Really?” Stone hisses, restraining my arm. “Please tell me that’s not all you can do?”

What the hell does that mean? “Let me go! I know people! They’ll come looking for me!”

It’s a lie, of course, but I refuse to let the reality of my situation settle in. The reality is, if I die here, who would know? Who would come looking for me? I have no parents, no siblings, and no friends. My memory will fade away and it’ll make no difference to anyone except for the exam marker who will mark ‘non-attendance’ next to my name in a fortnight’s time, and the nurse who’ll be no doubt relieved she doesn’t have to babysit me on my next shift.

I blink away the tears that sting my eyes.

“Shut up,” he orders, his voice low and threatening. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Got a problem there, Stone?”

Stone’s entire body tenses when Scarface speaks. Without a word, he dips low and I squeak as he wraps his arms around my legs and throws me over his shoulder. “No problem. She just realized she didn’t pack her new Jimmy Choos, that’s all.”

“No!” I shout, pounding my fists into his back. It’s a blatant lie. I would never forget to pack a pair of Jimmy Choos. Besides, it’s not like I can afford a brand of that caliber anyway. “Please!”

He ignores me while I squirm over his shoulder. I make no progress. Stone’s grip is tight, and he’s too strong to fight against. In this moment, I’m a mouse with my tail trapped underneath an elephant’s foot…I’m not going anywhere. Defeated, I slump and sob. Will anyone miss me? Will my face be plastered over milk cartons and billboards? Or will I become another number, a statistic, locked away in a police file and forgotten?

I close my eyes as we descend the stairs. When we reach the bottom, Stone carries me a few more feet before deciding to put me down. The second my shoes touch the floor, I swing at him. My fist connects with his mouth and the force tosses his head to the side. Shit! I hiss and clench my fist as pain  darts up my wrist and tingles in my elbow. Panicked, I dive for the stairs, but he catches the strap of my bag and yanks me back. I struggle against him like a dog on a leash and get nowhere. He swears under his breath before my stomach sinks. I feel the strap of my bag bite into my body and snap. For a split-second I free-fall until heavy, arresting hands grab my shoulders and push me back. He shoves me against the wall and I sob when the back of my skull smacks the pipe. The headache-inducing pain throbs over my scalp before settling in my eye sockets.

“Listen to me—”

I open my mouth to protest, but he clamps his hand over my lips. The salty taste of his skin creeps across the surface of my lips and onto the tip of my tongue. The tears that stung my eyes previously now trickle over the rim and wet my cheeks. I’m going to die.

“Listen,” he says. “You can’t escape this. You want out? Too fucking bad. You got yourself into this mess and now you have to get yourself out.”

Air rushes in and out of my nose as my chest heaves. Nausea makes awful twists and turns in the pit of my stomach and my entire body trembles. Never have I ever felt fear like this before. It’s almost debilitating.

“The last thing you want to do down here is draw attention to yourself. You need to act like you’re meant to be here. If you don’t, they’ll slit your throat and throw you into the sewer. By the time you wash up somewhere, your body will be too destroyed to identify. Do you understand?”

Despite my frenzied thoughts, I soak up his words. Still, they don’t resonate with me. Why can’t I leave? Stone waits a few seconds before he lets his hand fall away.

“I won’t tell anyone, please,” I beg, my voice as shaky as my hands. “I just want to go home.”

Sympathy softens his hard, ocean eyes and I know what he’s going to say before he says it. It’s in his expression—his body language.

“You can’t go home.”

Chapter Three

Debt

I can’t…

I can’t go home…

The thought dries my throat.

My pulse jumps in tempo, my tummy clenches, and I have the awful desperate urge to throw up. Then it hits me—my phone. I can call the police. From my back pocket, I fish for my cell. When I pull it out and unlock the screen, the little bars in the top right corner are gone, replaced by a small circle with a line through it. My heart sinks.

“No reception down here. You might as well throw it away.”

There’s no reception…

Tears flood from my eyes and drop onto my cheeks. In anger, I swipe at them and stuff it into the side of my bag, ignoring Stone’s smug expression. I’m not a crier. I was seven the last time I actually shed a tear. It was winter and I’d waited outside the always-growing ‘children’s home’. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’d stood there nervously, squeezing the strap to my backpack with cold, bare hands. My new parents were supposed to pick me up just after lunch, but they never showed. I’d waited, shaking in my pink gumboots, for them to come and take me somewhere different, but they didn’t, and as snowflakes began to pool on the shoulders of my blue hoodie, I’d cried. I don’t know what had happened to them. As a child, things weren’t explained to me. Still, after days of uncontrollable crying, I’d promised myself I’d never cry over something I couldn’t change. This is one of those times, I can’t change what’s happening, but the tears won’t stop and I feel as insignificant as I did that day.

“Why?” I ask, uncaring that I sound desperate and scared. “Why can’t I leave? I said I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“It doesn’t work like that, and Jesus, will you stop crying?” He flicks his tongue over his bottom lip with a frustrated lick. “You’ve stumbled across a big secret here and there’s no easy way out. I can’t force you to stay—and I won’t, not if it gets me killed too—but if you want to live, you’ll lick your wounds, Kitten, and hold back your damn tears.”

With a sniffle, I wipe my nose on my bare arm, collecting tears that flow from my nostrils, not my eyes.

“If you don’t, if you want to leave right now—” He points a long finger to the stairs he carried me down, “—you can climb back up those stairs and let Steve know you’ve changed your mind.”

Steve? Scarface’s name is Steve? I didn’t see that coming. Still, even though he has a friendly name I don’t inch toward the stairs, no matter how desperately I want to.

“What happens then? If I decide to leave?”

Stone shrugs his broad shoulders. “Steve can be a reasonable guy. I’m sure he’ll make your death quick and painless.”

He turns from me and heads down the dark tunnel, away from the stairs. I reach out for him, snagging the soft fabric of his hoodie, squeezing it between my fingers before he’s able to slip away. “Wait. My death? He’ll kill me?”

With a glance over his shoulder, Stone nods. “You know about this place now. You can’t unsee it, you can’t avoid it and you can’t talk about it.” His eyes darken and narrow in on me, forcing me to release his hoodie. “You don’t have a choice but to wait it out down here. You fight or you die. Maybe next time you’ll think twice about following a stranger from a train in the middle of the night.”

Fight? I can’t fight. I can barely lift a crate of medical supplies without complaining. A fight with me wouldn’t be much of a fight at all. I slump into myself. This is not how I envisioned this whole thing going. To be honest, I don’t know what I expected. I was only focused on the money and how little I had to worry about my own safety. “I just wanted you to fix what you broke…”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t seem worth it now, does it?”

Lowering my chin, I shake my head. It’s not worth it at all.

“And you owe me ten grand, by the way.”

My brows pull together, confused. Ten-freaking-grand! “For what? Ruining my life?”

Stone gestures around him. “It’s not cheap to get into a place like this. It cost me ten thousand dollars to save your life.”

I fold my arms as a tingle of frustration slices through my chest. I’m surprised how quickly it replaces my panic and fear. I didn’t want this. There’s no way I’m paying him ten thousand dollars for getting me trapped underground. Let’s not mention the fact I have to fight my way out. On top of that, I’m going to lose my job and my apartment. He has ruined my life.

“You expect me to pull that kind of money from my ass? I followed you from a train at one a.m. to fix my tablet because I can’t afford it. It only costs one hundred dollars to fix a busted tablet screen and if I can’t afford that, what makes you think I can afford ten thousand dollars?”

“Because down here, you have the opportunity to win up to eighty thousand tax-free dollars.”

My ears prick up. Eighty thousand tax-free dollars? He leans in close until the earthy, intoxicating scent of his cologne is the only thing I smell. I never noticed it before, but now it’s over-powering—arousing, even. It seems all this talk about tax-free money is warping my priorities and making my thighs tingle. The dimly lit tunnel we’re standing in doesn’t scare me anymore. Instead, a slither of excitement coils around my spine. With eighty thousand dollars, I can haul my ass to Italy and never look back. I’ve always wanted to move to Italy, maybe work at a petite wood-fire pizza place and live in a small cottage made of stone. Sitting on my porch, I would overlook a vast vineyard while I sucked on feta stuffed olives and drank wine. Yeah, that’s the life I want.

“How?” I ask, suddenly a little eager to venture further underground. “How do you win eighty thousand dollars?”

Stone’s blue eyes brighten and the ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Money hungry, Kitten?”

I scowl, but I’m not about to deny it. If there’s a chance I can make my life a little easier, I’m not going to say no. “I’m starved, and stop calling me Kitten. It’s not my name.”

His slight smirk pulls wide and wolfish before he straightens his shoulders and disappears into the dark tunnel ahead. I wait for a few seconds, expecting him to tell me how to win the money, but he doesn’t. That’s when I realize he isn’t going to wait for me, either, and I jolt into action. I grab my bag and hug it close to my chest. Fear makes a quick reappearance. It twists my stomach and threatens to drag it south at a moment’s notice. I move swiftly and follow his movements, keeping my head low enough to graze the network of pipes above me. Eventually, above the smell of mold and dirt, I smell his cologne and I relax at the thought of having him close.

“There’s a low concrete edge here. Be—”

The concrete edge he’s talking about introduces itself to the top of my skull with an echoing thud. I dip low and rub at my forehead, gritting my teeth to ease the ache.

“Ow,” I snap in a hushed whisper.

“I told you there was a concrete edge,” Stone states, his voice filled with husky laughter. Asshole. “How hard did you hit it?”

I brush the tips of my fingers over the front of my pulsing skull. “I hit it pretty hard, but not enough to leave a bump, I hope.”

I have enough issues with my appearance as it is. I don’t need an egg on the middle of my head to make me feel worse. I’m not bad looking, not really, just…plain. I’ve never colored my hair and I don’t wear make-up. My eyes are a light brown, my lashes are short and my nose is a little on the pointy side. If I had more than eighty thousand dollars, maybe I’d look into new facial features or accentuating some of my strengths. For now, though, I’ll settle for Italy.

Keeping exceptionally low, I follow Stone through the channel. Eventually, after descending three lots of service stairs in utter darkness, he leads us into a wide, well-lit tunnel—one I can stand up in. Along the concrete, cockroaches the size of my palm scatter before squeezing themselves into tiny cracks and crevices. You’d think that for ten thousand dollars entry they’d find a better place to situate themselves other than the pipe system of an abandoned warehouse. All points of money aside, it’s an interesting place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a system as big as this. These channels belong to an underground storm water system built to allow thousands and thousands of gallons of water through at any one time. If it storms, we’re dead.

Sticking close to Stone, I follow him down another tunnel. In the distance, I can hear muffled cheering and chanting. He follows it and it gets louder and louder until the very concrete I stand on vibrates beneath my shoes. My heart begins to pick up speed, pumping blood around my body faster than it can accommodate and my head spins as a result. I reach out and press the palm of my hand against the concrete to stabilize myself.

“Anxious?” Stone asks, peering over his shoulder with a hint of amusement on his lips.

I swallow my anxiety and brush off my hands. “No.”

In front of him, I notice another door. This one is makeshift. Pointless, really. Doors are supposed to keep things out—or in. This door, made of decaying driftwood, isn’t enough to keep out one of those gigantic cockroaches, let alone a person. I guess that’s why they have the brute upstairs, manning the entrance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a large cockroach. I gasp as it skitters over the orange light and pushes itself through a crack in the door. I shudder. I’m not a hater of insects; in fact, I’m certain lots of different kinds of creepy crawlies reside in my apartment. Nonetheless, cockroaches have always bothered me.

Stone notices my distaste and shakes his head. “Get used to them. You’re going to be sharing the same space for a while.”

“Courtesy of you,” I spit back.

He angles his large body in my direction and towers over me. His intense, blue eyes zero in on mine and I can’t look away. He’s terrifying. “I saved your life.”

“Temporarily. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in an underground storm water system. All it takes is one large dump of water and we’re both dead.”

Keeping his stare on my face, he thumps his fist against the door. “Afraid of a little water, Kitten? Drowning should be the least of your worries.”

I purse my lips as he stares me down. Next to us, the door opens, but neither of us acknowledges it. I’ve never had a submissive personality. My entire life I’ve had to fight for the things I wanted and when I got them, I never let them go easily. That’s not about to change. I can sense the control in him too. He needs it like I do, but I believe I have the advantage. I deal with needy, spoilt patients, day in and day out. He can’t crack me.

“I’m not afraid,” I challenge him, squaring my shoulders. “And stop calling me Kitten. My name is—”

Beside us, a man clears his throat, startling me. I’m first to break eye contact and look at the man who opened the door. He seems normal enough—average height, lean build, no distinct facial scars and his brown hair is cropped just below his ears. As I analyze him, I can feel Stone watching me with his piercing eyes.

“Jai?” the man states, confused. “I thought you were coming alone.”

If Jai is his name, what’s Stone? His nickname?  Speaking of which, I need to clear up the nickname situation and fast, before everyone knows me as ‘Kitten.’ The thought turns my stomach.

“He was,” I state, smoothing the palms of my hands down my shirt to rid them of a clammy sweat. “But then I happened.” I extend my hand to the man. “I’m Emily.”

Cautiously, he watches my hand for a few awkward seconds before giving it a quick shake. His dark, green eyes survey me, taking in every detail. He’s unimpressed; I can tell. It’s not a foreign look; I get it all the time.

“You don’t look like an Emily.”

I frown. “No?” I ask, unable to hide my agitation.

What the hell does that mean? Is there a certain way I’m supposed to look? Are other Emilys tall? Athletic? Blonde?

“I don’t think she looks like an Emily either,” Jai chimes in, leaning against the concrete wall.

There’s a grin on his face, one that both annoys and intrigues me.

“Don’t you dare say it,” I warn him and his eyes flare.

“She’s feisty, playful and scared of a little water.” Jai feigns thought, angling his head to the side to get a better look at me. “She looks like more of a...Kitten. Don’t you think, Marcus?”

The man at the door, Marcus, snorts and smiles widely. “Sure does.”

“You’re both assholes,” I deadpan, trying my hardest not to let my aggression surface.

If I don’t make a big deal about it, maybe it’ll go away. Marcus’s green irises flick over me once more, this time analyzing me a little more intimately. I feel naked, as if his stare has stripped me bare, but Jai doesn’t notice. And if he did, why would he care?

“How long you think she’ll last?”

Jai shrugs. “A few minutes—maybe.”

“So I should bet against her, then?”

I stand still, shocked that they’re having a conversation like this in front of me. It’s like I’m not even here. I’m not going to lie; I’m a competitive person. I don’t like losing, no matter what it is, and the fact they think I can’t win makes me want to prove them wrong.

Jai doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and thins his eyes, pondering his answer.

“I wouldn’t bet against her,” he states, surprising me. “But I wouldn’t throw all of my money down for her to win either.”

Marcus nods and steps aside. No more words are exchanged and Jai enters in through the door. I follow him, doing my best to slip by Marcus without making eye contact. Although normal enough, there’s something unsettling about him.

A distinct groan and a loud cheer echoes down the tunnels. It vibrates through my body, sending my heart racing. What are we walking in to?

It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out. We follow the tunnel for another twenty yards before it veers off to the left. The roar of people somewhere in the tunnel is loud, almost ear-piercing.

“You ready?” Jai shouts over his shoulder as he comes to a stop.

Bright lights filter in from the end of the tunnel and chains rattle and men grunt as flesh connects with flesh. My skin prickles with the sensation of a million ants and energy frissons through me, zipping like lightning all over my body. I’m breathless and I haven’t seen it yet—whatever it is. Jai reaches out and grips my arm. I move with no resistance as he tugs me in front of him and nudges me closer to the end of the tunnel. I swallow in a breath of heavy air and expel it slowly. My body is excited, coiled and aroused by the anticipation of it all. Even my nipples strain hard against the fabric of my bra. What am I going to see? What have I become a part of and why do I suddenly crave it so badly?

I pause at the edge of the tunnel, not daring to peek out. From where I’m standing, I see glistening men and women, smelling of sweat and sex. They’re cheering at something, something that rattles and clashes with metal. I cringe as chains strain and flesh becomes bruised. Jai plants a heavy hand on my hip, and immediately, I become hyperaware of it. His pulse radiates into my skin and I shut my eyes for a moment, hypnotized by the sound of complete chaos.

Above us, a city sleeps, but down here, anarchy rules.

Chapter Four

The Underground

It’s a cage. And it’s hanging over a massive tunnel by rusty fucking chains. It’s the first thing I see when Jai pushes me further out of the tunnel. The cage rattles and swings as two men smash their fists into each other’s faces. They duck and roll, kick and punch, and every time they do the cage shudders and creaks. Jai talks in my ear, but I don’t hear him, only my heart. It beats like a drum in my head as the metal box of death bounces, threatening to snap and send them both plummeting to their death at any second. At least one hundred people fill the surprisingly large area. Men and women of all sizes lean against concrete pillars and hang from unstable bars. Small trails of water trickle down from surrounding tunnels and pour into the large one in the middle—the one the cage swings above. I can smell blood and rust mixed in with sweat and mold. The dust in the air is heavy, clinging to damp skin and refusing to drop off. Specks of it settle in my lungs and tickle my nostrils, but I don’t care. It makes me feel alive, like the life I was living thirty minutes ago was all a ruse. The pores on the surface of my skin tingle and vibrate, urging me to take off my clothes and feel the dirtiness of this place on my naked body. My clothes suffocate me and my heavy bag pulls on me, making my muscles ache. I slam into the large expanse of Jai’s back. Groaning, I stumble backwards and catch his brief look of frustration. The way he furrows his brows at me forces me from my stupor.

“Most of you know me,” a deep, baritone voice announces.

That’s when I realize the entire room, if I can call it that, is silent. Even the fighters in the cage pause their fight to hear him speak.

“But for those who don’t, my name is Skull.”

My ears prick up at the mention of Skull, and I follow Jai’s hostile stare up to a small concrete ledge. Three men stand on it, looking down at us as if we’re nothing but cockroaches. Two of them stand with staunch postures on either end of the ledge, their arms folded tightly over their chests. And the one in the middle, Skull, is as terrifying as his name paints him to be. The black ink on his face is exactly what his name states.

Skull.

His face is a skull.

I’ve seen it once before on the Internet somewhere, but never in person. I didn’t know there was someone else, somewhere, crazy enough to do something so…so permanently scary.

“You all know how this goes; you’ve all seen Fight Club, but just in case the message wasn’t clear…”

One of the staunch Russian-looking men pulls a smaller man out on to the ledge. He whimpers and begs, but Skull ignores him. The small man’s lean, tattoo-less body makes him look almost innocent beside Skull and his goons.

“I won’t tell anybody, I swear,” the scared man pleads. “Please, I was just out for a late-night walk. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

His light brown hair sticks to his forehead and his eyes are wide, so wide I’m sure they’re going to fall from his head at any second.

“Sorry, mate,” Skull says, his strangely sophisticated Australian accent shining through. He slings an arm over the man’s shoulder and forces him to lean slightly over the railing. “Can’t risk it.”

“What’s going on?” I whisper to Jai, dragging my stare onto his face.

He gives me a side-glance, one that sends dread burrowing through my stomach. “You’ll see.”

I don’t need further explanation. My lips part as my heart stutters. They’re going to kill him? The crowd surrounding us roars to life and the sudden uproar startles me. I look up in time for Skull to finish dragging the sharp edge of his knife through the pleading man's flesh. I gasp and cover my mouth as blood gushes out of his throat and rolls down his chest. I barely have time to catch my panicked breath in my hands before Jai’s fingers curl around my wrist and he forces my limb back to my side.

Murder. Holy shit. I’ve just witnessed murder.

The thought sticks to my insides like tar. I’ve seen death many times—working in a hospital puts you directly in the face of it...but this is different. In hospital, it’s life, an everyday situation. Here, it’s wrong—unnatural, even.

Skull doesn’t speak as the man bleeds out. The crimson liquid slows to a dribble. It drips off the metal railing and into the small trickle of water that runs underneath the cage before disappearing into the large, and probably bottomless, tunnel. Eventually, the cheering dies down and Skull finally lifts his eyes to address us once more.

“You’re all part of a secret brotherhood that has gone unnoticed for a hundred years. Most of you know the guidelines, but I see some new faces in the crowd tonight.” His black eyes flick over me and I inch closer to Jai as they pause and come back to settle on my face. “For those who aren’t familiar with how I run things, let me let you in on three simple rules. One.” He grips the dead man’s hair and pulls his head back until the slice in his throat is on display. I’m the only one in the room who shudders. “Don’t talk about it.”

Skull grabs the man by the back of his shorts and tosses him over the railing like rubbish. His lifeless body slaps against the concrete. The sound chills my blood and sends it burning underneath my skin, but I don’t let my gaze fall from Skull’s. I don’t want him to know I don’t fit in here—that I’m here by accident. The way he stares at me, though, makes me feel like I have it branded on my forehead in bright red ink.

Skull wipes the wet blade he used to cut the innocent man’s throat against his white T-shirt. Angry red stripes paint the fabric, but he doesn’t care.

“Two; don’t kill anyone outside of the cage. And three; you fight when it’s your turn, or you die.”

I swallow hard. I have to fight? That’s how I’ll make the money? I’ve only been in two fist fights in my entire life—both when I was thirteen, and I lost.

“Until the rounds end, this place is your home, this brotherhood your family. Fight well and you shall be rewarded. Lose and you’re out on your ass with no money in your pocket, and no respect from your brothers or sisters.”

I fight the urge to slump into myself as Skull finally frees me from his dark glare. He lets his glower drag over the scattered crowd with malicious warning before turning and disappearing through a smaller service tunnel with his goons in tow.

It’s silent for a moment and I can’t hear my heartbeat. For a second, the only sound I hear is the unsteady trickle of water as it patters against the mossy concrete, and the creak of the rusty chains that strain under the weight of the fighters. I turn toward Jai and open my mouth to demand he kill me now—I’m dead, anyway—but the sudden sound of bone smashing into flesh beats the words off my tongue, forcing them to remain in my throat. As the crowd starts up again, Jai snags my elbow and tugs me through the horde of eager fighters. I keep my head low and my shoulders up, but I’m still clipped by hard elbows and loose hands. By the time we reach a clearing on the other side, I’ve taken more hits to the head than a footballer and a killer headache brews at the base of my skull.

“You’ll stay with me,” Jai orders, stuffing a rogue earpiece from his iPod into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Like hell I will.” I force my slipping bag up underneath my arm.

I don’t know what I’ll do without Jai, but staying with him opens doors for more problems. He’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.

Jai glares over my shoulder from underneath his brow and I return it without hesitation. It takes me a few seconds to realize he isn’t glaring at me, but at something behind me. Slowly, I crane my neck to look over my shoulder. I smell vodka and ass before I see the face that breathes it. And what a face it is.

“Fine,” Jai simpers. “If you don’t want to stay with me, you can stay with him.”

I recoil at the thought and inch closer to Jai. It seems facial tattoos are a growing trend. The foul-smelling, private-space invader licks at the spider tattooed on the corner of his mouth, and strangely, I feel sorry for it. No one or thing should be touched by this man’s tongue. I peer up at Jai and manage to conjure my most convincing ‘help’ look. I can’t stay with creepy spider man; I just can’t. With a sigh, Jai flicks his hand at the stranger.

“Beat it, asshole.”

The ‘asshole’ lingers for a long second, his beady blue eyes flicking between Jai and me. When Jai steps forward, his spine straight and shoulders squared, the man smirks and quickly turns on his heel. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until Jai pushes past me and steps up onto a ledge. Clasping my bag tightly under my arm, I let the air out and follow closely behind him. It’s clear now. Without Jai, I’ll be eaten alive.

***

Jai dumps his heavy backpack onto a flimsy, pea-green cot and, surprisingly, the worn mesh doesn’t give out under its weight. He turns his back to me as he unzips his hoodie. I stand at the doorway, gaping at the size and state of the room. Granted, I shouldn’t have expected more than a tiny cranny tucked away in a small service way of an underground water system, but still...these people paid ten thousand dollars to be here and there isn’t even a door to protect their privacy? What a rip-off.

“Wipe that look off your face. You’re underground, not at the Hilton,” Jai murmurs over his shoulder. “You can live in luxury when you’re out of here. You’ll probably appreciate it more.”

I pout. “Sadly, this isn’t that much of a step down from my apartment…”

And it isn’t. My apartment is tiny, so tiny the bed folds out of the wall and hits my kitchen bench. The smell, warm mold and dirt, isn’t a far cry from home either.

“You should feel right at home then,” Jai says, slipping out of his hoodie.

I lean against the damp concrete wall and watch the muscles in his back as his tight, black tank exposes all of its rises and depressions. At least one of us isn’t going to die in the cage. Jai has more muscle in one of his shoulders than I do in my entire body. He could take on six in the cage if he really wanted to. Jai squeezes between the two cots as he bunches his hoodie into a ball and drops it at the head of his cot to use as a pillow. In one swift move, he tugs off his black tank and the sudden nakedness of his torso takes my breath away. There’s barely a second for my brain to register his clean, lean form before he drapes the tank top over the murky, orange light above his bed. The semi-well lit room becomes difficult to see in so I sigh and move towards my own cot. It creaks and complains underneath my weight. The mesh tightens and I brace myself for a second, certain I’m going to crash through it and hit the floor.

I don’t.

When I’m sure the cot can handle my weight, I toss my bag onto the floor and pull my knees into my chest. Jai’s cot makes more noise than mine as he lowers himself into it. He moves quickly, less afraid of tearing it than I was.

When he’s comfortable, it’s quiet in our space. Too quiet. The sounds of laughter and cheering further down the tunnel echo clearly and it sets me on edge. The air is heavy, not allowing me to take a fresh breath of air and whenever I blink, I see the man’s sliced throat. I swallow, but it does nothing to quench my dry throat. I’m not going to survive down here, and the thought is...well, it’s fucking terrifying.

“How are you holding up, Kitten?”

His genuine-sounding question breaks the torturing silence. It’s a question I haven’t thought about yet. I haven’t allowed it. I didn’t want to freak myself out, but truth be told, I’m not holding up well at all.

“I’m deep underground somewhere, and I witnessed the murder of an innocent man within the first ten minutes of arriving. To get out, I have to physically fight someone God knows how many times, and, to top it off, I’m in more debt than I’ve ever been in in my life.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I’m not okay. I don’t fit in here and they’re going to realize it eventually. Then what? When Skull finds out he’ll cut my throat and toss me over the railing and into the bottomless tunnel without explanation.”

Jai shifts on his bed. “As far as Skull’s concerned, you paid to be here just like everyone else. Sure, you didn’t get the official invite, but if you keep your head down and pretend you know what you’re doing, you’ll be fine.”

Tears burn my eyes and I bite down on my tongue to stop them from spilling, but they insist. The force behind them is too much, so I let them fall. I let them silently wet my cheeks and roll across my dry lips. “Skull knows. He was glaring at me. He knows.”

“Skull doesn’t know shit,” Jai spits, his distaste for Skull coming through loud and clear. “He likes to intimidate people, that’s all. You have a kind face—like a kitten. He wanted to scare you.” Jai lets out a heavy exhale when a sniffle from me gives away the fact I’m crying. “Look, I’ll help you, okay? I can’t do much, but I’m sure there’s something I can teach you before your fight rolls around.”

I swipe my arm across my face. “Why would you help me? After everything I’ve done?”

He ponders for a second and I wish I could see his face, read his emotions. “Because even though you’re a giant pain in my ass and a distraction from my goal, you seem like a good person.”

Of their own accord, the corners of my lips twitch.

“And you owe me ten grand, which I’m going to need back as soon as possible,” he adds, forcing my twitch to fall.

Jai rolls on his bed, turning his back to me. It’s clear that conversation time is over. I drop my head into my knees and hug my legs, unable to find the energy to properly set myself up and lie down. I figure it’s no different. Sitting or lying, I’m not getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter Five

Trash

My eyes shoot open as a loud squeal pierces my eardrum and vibrates over the surface of my brain. Light footsteps and a girly giggle as two people sneak past our little nook. I rub my heavy, aching eyes as the two laugh and speak in flirtatious tones. Naturally, when he catches her, their not-so-quiet dirty talk echoes down the tunnel. It’s so clear, they might as well be speaking directly into my ear. Privacy is something you just don’t have down here and I wonder if they know the people who sleep in this tunnel can hear him tell her how badly he wants to put it in her ass.

It turns out, despite my uneasiness last night, I fell asleep. I’m not surprised. I’d worked an eleven-hour shift at the hospital prior to the stunt that landed me down here. I was exhausted before I’d stepped foot on the train. When I’d finally sat down on my bed, my body gave in and a dreamless sleep took over me. Yawning, I check the small, silver fob watch pinned to the breast pocket of my plum shirt. It reckons it’s nine a.m. but I can’t tell. The light is the same now as it was when I fell asleep. It’s only been a few hours, but there’s an endless list of things I’d do to see the sun again, or smell fresh air.

My cot bounces slightly and I jump as an unnoticed Jai dumps a heap of clothes onto the end of it. Pieces of small fabrics cover my worn shoes and I eye them wearily. Eventually, I glance up at him and he hands me a small bread roll. He looks refreshed—much more refreshed than I do, I’m sure.

“I figured you’re going to melt in those scrubs so I went out and got you some other stuff. Breakfast is also finished, but I managed to secure you a bread roll.”

He went out and got me some other stuff? What does that even mean? It’s not like there’s a clothing store down here. Biting into the somewhat stale bread, I reach for a piece of black fabric and hold it up. It’s a halter neck, one that isn’t long enough to cover my belly button. “Jesus, did you fight a toddler for these?”

His full, pouty lips widen into an amused smirk. “The girls down here aren’t exactly the kind of girls you’re used to. That’s the best I could do.”

“I’m not wearing these.”

He steps forward, his hands planted firmly on his hips and the previous quirk in his lips gone. “I arm-wrestled four guys and two women to get you these clothes. You’re going to wear them, even if I have to dress you myself.” Jai nods at the clothes. “You look like an idiot down here in your scrubs. These are low-key. You’ll blend right in.”

“I—”

“Put them on,” he orders, moving to stand guard at the entrance with his back to me. “They’re starting the first round of fights.”

Scoffing, I drop the piece of fabric and let the bread slip from my hand “Have fun with that.”

I’m not going to lie, the thought of seeing what I saw in the cage yesterday enthralls me. My toes curl in my shoes just thinking about it, but I’m not wearing any of these clothes. No way. I’ve always been a more conservative kind of girl. Call me old-fashioned, but a covered vagina and an unexposed belly button is sexier.

“Holy shit.” Jai groans, dragging his hands over his face. “Does everything have to be such a fucking mission with you? God. Don’t wear the black top then, I’m sure you can find something else in the pile I brought you. ”

When I don’t move towards the clothes, Jai grits his jaw and surges forward. His large hands toss clothes all around the room until eventually, he throws a pair of jean shorts and a white tank at me. I hold them up. I don’t particularly like denim...I open my mouth to protest, but Jai quickly closes the distance. I squeak in surprise and push against the heavy hands that grip my shoulders, but I’m useless to stop him. His immovable body pins me against the cot. Somehow, he’s managed to catch my wrists and he squeezes them tightly as he pins them beside my head.

“Get off!” I growl, trying desperately to struggle free.

My lungs are already having a hard time filling themselves with air. With his weight on top, I’m sure to suffocate.

“One more word,” he warns me. His voice is low and coarse, sending a tidal wave of shivers down my spine. “If one more word I don’t like falls from your pretty little mouth, I’ll throw you into the tunnel myself.”

I hear him loud and clear, but ‘pretty,’ ‘little’ and ‘mouth’ are the only words that register Naturally, my attention falls to his lips. I’ve never seen a more enticing pair. My insides turn to liquid and I feel light, as if I’m floating on water. I’ve felt this feeling before. I was twenty-one and I’d spent my birthday drinking my ass off at a new bar that had just opened up three blocks from the tired hostel I lived in. Long story short, I’d met a guy and I’d felt this feeling. Not long after, we were having sex in the alley, and when it was over, I never saw him again. Not my proudest moment, but it happened.

“Your daddy would have a heart attack if he saw the way you’re staring at my lips right now, Kitten”

Lightning flashes up my veins and zips to my heart in record time, forcing it to pump blood faster. Him and the way his pupils have darkened entrances me. I think about revealing the fact that I don’t have a father, but I do, somewhere. I have a mother, too; I’ve just never met her. It’s only me in my world. No one else.

“My father is the last person you should worry about.”

He’s smiling at me now, but there’s something raw and hungry in his eyes. “A protective older brother then?”

I shake my head. I guess I’m not going to be able to keep that part of my life from him.

“I’m an orphan.”

The sexy, sultry look that glazed itself over Jai’s features melts away. His grip on my wrists loosens, and the weight of his body becomes bearable. Still, the feeling vibrating in the lower portion of my body remains strong.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

I let out a small, nervous laugh. “For what?”

His head angles a few degrees. “For bringing it up.”

I shrug as best I can. “It had to come up sooner or later. If you’re worried you’ve upset me, don’t be. You can’t be upset over something you never had.”

It’s a lie. I think about my non-existent family every day. It’s confusing to be so emotionally mixed up over something you’ve never known. What does a mother’s love even feel like? How does it feel to be disciplined by your father or teased by your sibling? I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t, and it’s not the fact I don’t know my mother or father that bothers me. It’s the fact a woman was able to carry me in her belly for nine months and go through so much pain to bring me into this world only to hand me over as soon as she saw me. Am I that unbearable? Was I, even as an infant?

I defend my absent mother a lot. When I’m feeling particularly bitter about my life my mind begins to pick on her, but not long after, my heart rushes to her defense. Maybe she was too young? Maybe she was forced to have me? Maybe it just wasn’t the right time or with the right person? When I’m being rational I get it, but when I’m down, it crushes me.

This time, it’s Jai’s stare that falls onto a pair of lips—my lips—and self-consciously, I lick them. As he studies each one, my heart shudders pleasantly in my chest. This has to be the weirdest situation in the world. I mean, he practically kidnapped me, yet here we are. I haven’t been touched in so long. In fact, it’s been such a long time I was beginning to think I’d never have sex again. I didn’t crave it. I didn’t even think about it, but, pinned underneath the body of a man who could, quite possibly, be the death of me, all I can think about is the touch of his lips. There’s no door to shield us from the people who pass by, but I don’t care—not like I would have ten minutes ago.

“Will you wear the shorts?” he asks, his voice quiet, soft and smooth.

I nod, focusing more on the undertone of his voice and how it makes me crave warm chocolate than his question. I blink a few times, and just like that, he’s off me, guarding the door again.

“Wait.” I utter, pushing myself up on my elbows. “That’s it?”

Looking at the side of his face I see the ghost of a smile play along his lips, but he doesn’t turn to make eye contact.

“Get dressed, Emily. We’ve only got a few minutes before the fight starts.”

Dazed, and a little confused by the use of my real name, I shuffle off the cot and ignore the ache in my back as I stand. The cot isn’t the ideal place to sleep, but it’s smoother than the mattress that folds out of the wall back home. At least there are no springs stabbing me in my organs here.

I glance down at the denim shorts and white tank top in my hands. I’m going to look ridiculous in this. Thank God it’s dark down here or everyone would see just how white I really am—and when was the last time I shaved my legs? I cringe at the thought.

In record time, I pull off my scrubs and toss them into the corner of the room. I struggle trying to pull the shorts on over my black shoes, but thankfully, when I sit down on the edge of my cot I manage to put both feet through without much hindrance. Most people take their shoes off before putting pants on, but there’s no way in hell I’m putting my bare feet on the damp ground.

Surprisingly, the jean shorts button up well and fit nicely. I run my finger around the band at the top and peer at my ass from over my shoulder. It doesn’t feel like my cheeks are hanging out. I run the palm of my hands down the back of the shorts to confirm it. My ass isn’t showing. Who would’ve thought they still make denim short shorts that cover the butt? It’s a miracle. When I look back up, I see two blue irises flick over my belly and onto my chest. I freeze, unable to help my eyebrows that pull together of their own accord. Though caught in the act, Jai doesn’t look away. Instead, his stare follows an invisible line up my cleavage, my throat and onto my face. Of course I wore my least attractive bra. Why not the lace one? Why did I choose the one made from cotton? My throat dries, my cheeks burn, and my fingers twitch at my sides, but I don’t cover myself up. I analyze his face, but he gives off no indication if my body is to his liking. Not that I want it to be...or maybe I do. I don’t know. I’ve never been so confused in my life.

Without a word, Jai turns back to peer into the tunnel.

“You’re a pervert.” I tease, arranging the tank top in my hands before pulling it on over my head.

He doesn’t look back, but I hear his smile as he speaks. “I prefer the term ‘opportunist’.”

I straighten the tank against my belly. It clings tightly to me, and the lack of nutrition in my diet shows. Hip bones...this is why I wear baggier clothes. I’m actually surprised my breasts have held up. I smooth my palms over my stomach and suck in an inhale. When I blow it out, Jai turns and this time, his eyes skip over my chest and lock onto my hair.

“Ready?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

“Almost.”

He steps forward and I hold my breath as he reaches out and tugs on the band holding back my locks. With a swift yank, he frees my black waves and they fall around my face. I feel little as he rakes his giant hands through my hair and I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but every now and then he’ll catch some between his fingers and squeeze until my lips part and a nervous breath of air slips out. Whatever he’s doing, it feels erotic. If it were normal, my blood wouldn’t be heating the way it is and my pulse wouldn’t threaten to beat through my skin.

I open my mouth to speak, but Jai turns around and steps out into the tunnel.

“Let’s go.”

***

The cage rattles and shakes, and my heart leaps into my throat. The slap of limbs on the canvas and grunts forced from lungs penetrate the roars of the crowd. I’ve never seen anything so gritty, so magnificent. Excitement prickles over the surface of my skin like electricity on metal, but beside me, Jai sits against the wall of the tunnel, toying with a loose string on the sleeve of his shirt. How can he be bored by the action unfolding in front of us? He’s used to it, I suppose, but this is an entirely new world for me. A world that’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Every few seconds, when the fighters give themselves a quick breather, my attention flickers to the railing above the cage and the thick fingers that grip it. Skull shifts as my eyes flick over his hands, resting his elbows on the rail and leaning over to get closer to the fight. As the fighters clash and crash against the canvas again, I let my gaze move to Skull’s face and the detailed skull that stains it. I can see every bone, and every space is colored a coal black. For a moment, I find myself captivated by it—mesmerized. He is easily the scariest thing I’ve ever seen and although yesterday’s events no longer mark his skin, I feel as though I can still see the innocent man’s blood on his hands. Though scary, I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever loved a woman and what a smile might look like on his lips. I wonder what color his eyes glisten when he’s fallen in love…

I look back to the fighters who are both standing on jelly legs and exchanging heavy punches, blow for blow. One fighter, with slightly more energy than the other, ducks an incoming punch. It swings over his head, sending his opponent off balance. He wastes no time in straightening his posture and throwing a hammering punch to his chin. I gasp and shield my mouth as the opponent’s arms flail and his face snaps to the side. I see it in his eyes, the glazed look, and suddenly his head is heavier than the rest of his body. My heart pounds in my chest, in my head, in my throat—everywhere—and I can’t help but inch closer. Subconsciously, I reach back and touch Jai’s arm to steady myself as I step forward. I use him as security, in case I need to be pulled back at a moment’s notice. The dazed man sways like a tree in the wind before crashing to the canvas.

The room goes silent.

He doesn’t move.

The only sounds are the straining of the thick chains that rub against the metal railings, and the tiny passages of rain water that drip onto the concrete around us. My mouth is open, my eyes wide. I’ve never seen a knockout before.

Everyone else jumps to life, cheering the victor. The sudden surge of celebration startles me and I jump backwards, desperately clinging to Jai’s arm. The uproar vibrates the floor under my feet. I feel it in the rubber of my shoes and in the fabric of my socks before it climbs my legs. I pant, unsure if I should cheer or cry. My chest hurts, burning like I’ve smoked an entire packet of cigarettes and I realize it’s not because of the crowd. It’s because of the man that lies unconscious on the floor of the cage.

That could be me.

That will be me.

I survey him a little longer. There’s something not quite right about him. He’s still...dead still. I don’t notice two of Skull’s men, the ones from yesterday, approach the cage until they unlock the door and the winner leaps out. He clenches his torso and puts on a brave face, but it’s not enough to hold back the contents of his stomach. I cringe and look away as yellow bile spews from his mouth. Ignoring him, the goons step into the cage, unbothered that it bounces and trembles under their weight. At any second, the chains could snap. I think I’m the only one who cares.

The men reach down and slap the man on the face. He doesn’t move. They peer up at Skull briefly before testing his pulse. I keep my attention on Skull and all it takes is a shake of his head and the goons scoop up the unconscious man. When they have all of his weight in their arms, I notice a slight trail of blood leak from his mouth and nose. My blood runs cold. Is he...dead?

Outside the cage, the two men pull him higher in their arms. I expect them to carry him somewhere, to a little nook in a tunnel with someone that can help him—like a little healing bay or something. Instead, Skull announces that sometimes it doesn’t always work out and reminds us it’s a dangerous game.

And then they toss him over the edge and into the tunnel like week-old trash.

Like fucking trash.

Chapter Six

Subversion

I pace the room, taking three steps each way before having to turn again. Jai watches me from the doorway, his arms folded tightly over his chest. He thinks I’m overreacting. He treats me as if I’m the only one who finds it appalling they tossed away the loser of the fight like he was nothing.

“He was dead already, Emily.” He sighs, apparently sick of saying it. “The punch was too much. There’s nothing anyone could’ve done.”

Silent tears burn down my cheeks and I hug myself tighter. “He probably has family...they’re never going to know what happened to him.” I inhale sharply. “What if he has a wife? Or children? They’ll grow old thinking their father left them without explanation.”

“If he was down here, he did leave without explanation.”

I stop pacing and glare at Jai. “Do you have any compassion? A human being died and he was treated like trash.”

Then, realization dawns on me, and all of the emotion I feel, all of the fear and outrage swirling around in my chest, drains out through my shoes. Even my tears dry up.

“I’m going to die down here and they’re going to throw me away.”

Jai rolls his ocean-blue eyes. “You’re not going to die.”

“I am.”

Why does he think I’m being dramatic? I have no fighting experience yet here I am, trapped underground with fighters and the only way out is to win, lose or die.

“How does it work, anyway? Do they go alphabetically? By size? Draw straws?”

“It’s random. Skull has Marcus choose a male and female and then they choose their opponent.”

I frown. “So there’s no real structure to it?”

He shakes his head.

“Shit. Look at me. I’m an easy win.”

I could be called to fight at any second and I have no idea how to throw a punch or how to block one. I’m as good as dead.

I’ve never been a dramatic person. I’ve always been detached from my life, ready for it to end at any second and be okay with it, but not like this. There’s no dignity in dying like this.

“You will be fine. How many times do I have to say it?”

“You said it yourself, Stone. I’ll last a few minutes—maybe.”

“And maybe you will, but don’t forget, if you play it right, it can take a second to win a fight.” He pushes off of the wall and saunters closer. “So you don’t have any technique or strength. Big deal.”

Gee, thanks.

“You have speed and logic on your side. Most fighters are trained to think one way, and one way only: win, at all costs. They’ll take a single look at you and go for the knock out, completely bypassing ground game and submissions. If you don’t panic and learn a little about position and evasive techniques, I think you’ll do just fine—or, you won’t die, at the very least.”

He stands a foot away from me, hands placid at his sides. I wonder if he’d still offer to help me if I didn’t owe him ten thousand dollars. If by some freaky chance I managed to win back the money, would he dump me on my ass to fend for myself? Or would he continue to help me? He said he has a goal down here and that I’m a distraction. What’s his goal? To win money? What does he need that kind of cash for? It seems he has plenty of it. All of his clothes are branded with top-end sports logos, his little music player is Apple, and let’s not mention the twenty thousand dollars he casually pulled out of his pocket for us to be accepted. He doesn’t need eighty thousand dollars.

“You want to help me?”

His jaw tightens for a few seconds before he relaxes it. “You owe me money and I need it back.”

Intrigued, I angle my head. “What do you need it for?”

Jai’s blue eyes darken and in this light, they appear black. “What does it matter? It was mine to begin with.”

Slowly, I join a little piece of it together. “Money can’t be what you’re here for. If you were in desperate need for money, you wouldn’t have wasted ten thousand of it on me.”

His dark eyes flare as he squares his shoulders to tower over me. Normally, I’d cower at such a sight, but right now, I’m making progress. I need to know just whom I’m being associated with.

“Careful, Kitten. My business is the last thing you want to paddle around in.”

The way he says it intrigues me. Maybe I want in on the danger. Next, I recall the way he was looking at Skull. Everyone else watched him with absolute adoration, but not Jai. I saw his distaste. I felt his anger. There’s something much bigger going on here.

“I saw the way you were looking at Skull.”

His poker face remains fierce and firm and I briefly wonder if he’s ever been in the army. The way he holds himself feels...disciplined.

“I saw the way you were looking at him too. You like the skull? It turns you on?”

Fire rushes in to my face, painting me red before settling in my cheeks. His tattoo might intrigue me, but I’d never go as far as to say it turned me on.

“I may have been a little curious,” I admit, not that it’s any of his business. “But Skull is a disgusting human being. His lack of compassion for human life overshadows any freaky fetish I might have conjured up.”

His lips tighten into a straight line. Could he be jealous? Is that even possible?

“He may look like he has the world at his feet, but he’s one careless step away from losing it all.”

Oh, shit. There it is. I was expecting some kind of messed-up plan, but that...that is actually insane.

“You want to take him down?” I ask in a harsh whisper. “Are you insane?”

Of course, Jai plays indifferent, as if I spoke to him in another language. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You implied—”

He shoots forward, slamming his large body into mine and clamping a hand over my mouth. His face is etched with red-hot fury and I fight against him, but a firm hand planted on my lower back keeps me from getting any distance.

“I’m not going to ask you to stay out of my business again. I didn’t save your life so you could fuck mine. All I’m asking is that you win your fight and return the money you owe. Then, you can lose your next fight and leave.”

I pull away from his hand and he allows it, but the firm grip he has on my lower back doesn’t resign. One word. There’s only one word I care about in that sentence.

“Leave?”

He nods once. “If you lose, and don’t die, you leave. Those are the rules.”

“Empty-handed?”

He nods again. “Broke and broken. Worse off than what you were when you came in.”

I gape at him, appalled. “How is that fair?”

“It’s not, but it’s a risk everyone down here has made.”

“And how does Skull make sure no one talks? I can’t imagine anyone giving a shit when they’ve got the entire world to hide in.”

Finally, Jai slips his hand from my lower back and runs it over his face, impatiently.

“With what? Last I checked, you couldn’t flee from country to country without money. Skull knows the details of every person down here, even you by now.”

I fold my arms. How efficient could this ‘Skull’ be on the outside world? Who in their right mind would engage in a conversation with him? Who would hire him?

“I doubt he knows every detail.”

“I’d be willing to bet thirty thousand dollars he knows your birth parents’ names. Skull has his fingers dipped in all kinds of illegal activity, not just underground fighting. He’s paid off cops, doctors, politicians—anyone and everyone who can help his cause. When I say he knows every detail, trust me, he does.”

Suddenly, this underground world has become even more dangerous, if that’s possible. Despite all that, my brain lingers on one possibility Jai put forward, and one only. My birth parents...is it possible? Can Skull help me find them? The thought quickly passes. The only thing I see Skull aiding me in is my death. He’ll cut my throat long before the request slips off my tongue.

“I don’t like that look on your face. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I frown. “I’m not telling you anything. I don’t like being kept in the dark any more than you do. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking when you meet me on common ground.”

Jai’s face clouds over in thought. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t, but I’ve put all of my trust in you this far. The least you can do is return the favor.”

His eyes flicker between believing me and pondering the thought of telling me to go fuck myself. Thankfully, with a defeated sigh, he glances over his shoulder before training his serious, dark eyes on my face.

“I’m looking for my brother.”

“Your brother?”

He leans in close, so close I feel his breath blow along my jawline and tickle the lobe of my ear. It sends a tickle of delight across my skin and I relish in it. I don’t remember the last time someone was able to bring my skin to life.

“He was involved in this last year and I haven’t seen him since.”

My heart plummets into my shoes. If Jai’s brother participated in this last year and hasn’t resurfaced since...I hate to be the one to say it, but there’s just no way he’s alive. Still, I find it endearing that Jai is holding on to the hope that his brother is alive and well, but he’s going to get himself killed looking for answers, that much I know.

“I’m sorry to hear—”

“Joel isn’t dead. He’s too good a fighter to let something like that happen.”

I inch back a little, until my eyes lock with his. The sincerity in them, the frustration, the desperation, all pull at my heart strings. I’ve felt it too...the need to find a family member you know exists but isn’t there for you. The difference is, my parents are probably alive. There’s a good chance Joel isn’t, but, if this is Jai’s way of processing his grief, then I’ll entertain it.

“What do you think happened?”

Jai’ eyes crinkle around the edges as he cringes. This isn’t something he wants to explain to me. “You heard what Skull said about this setup being a part of an old brotherhood?”

I nod.

“It’s all bullshit—a backstory. What this is, is a job interview.”

He stops to let me take in the absurd information. I try to process it, but it doesn’t make any sense. “A job interview?”

Try as I might to keep the skeptical tone out of my voice, I fail.

“Skull wants only the best fighters to defend him and his illegal empire, and he can’t exactly put out an ad in the paper now can he?”

Okay, so it makes a little sense. I touch my hands to my forehead. This is some action movie-shit, something Denzel Washington or Tom Hardy should be starring in.

“So your plan is to?”

“Find my brother and destroy Skull.”

“That simple, huh?”

There’s no beating around the bush. Jai has a death wish and I need to get the hell out of here before it blows up and kills me too. Before I work on my own plan, though, there’s one little problem he seems to have overlooked.

“If what you’re saying is true and Skull is recruiting fighters for his little gang, your brother is the bad guy. If he was offered a job like you say he might have been, he took it.”

Jai tightens his jaw and glares at me with tormented eyes. Instantly, I see that this is something he’s thought about already. I also see he hasn’t come to terms with the fact his brother might kill him if Skull gives the orders.

“You think Skull gives anyone a choice? No. You work for him or you die. Simple.”

He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and I wonder if he’s not entirely convinced by his words.

“Joel can be difficult...but he’s not a bad guy. When he sees that I’ve come for him, he’ll figure something out.”

I can’t say the best plan begins with depending on a possible ‘villain’ to save you, but it could be worse. I mean, at least he has some kind of plan, and isn’t tearing around here guns blazing.

“And if he doesn’t?”

Jai exhales and all of his features smooth out. “If he doesn’t, I’m as good as dead.”

Chapter Seven

The Second Mistake

After our discussion, Jai left. I didn’t ask him where he was going, but I noted the smaller roll of money he slipped into his pocket from his backpack. He has a plan down here, one that requires him to pay money for certain services. Perhaps he’s paying off one of Skull’s goons for information...it’s not a ridiculous assumption.

He didn’t come back until late afternoon and when he did, he didn’t make eye contact. Not once. I watched him as he laid on his bed and threw a rubber ball at the opposite wall. Every second throw got harder and harder, but he caught it every time. I dozed off while I watched, which led to dreams of him, dreams that ended with him being stabbed in the throat and me tossed over a railing. Eventually, it was enough to force me to open my eyes.

Which brings us to now.

My eyes adjust to the darkness immediately. Jai has put his shirt over the light again, letting only the faintest glow filter through. It’s quiet down this end of the tunnels, but in the distance I hear singing and loud conversation—like something you’d hear outside a bar. I watch him as he lies on his back with his arm slung over his face. He’s topless and I don’t blame him. The air is thick and sticky. There is no breeze, no fresh air, and to make it harder, I’m giving off a good portion of body heat myself.

While he’s unaware, I let my stare drag down the side of his torso. He looks so deliciously handsome lying there, and my insides flutter. He has a man’s body, that’s for sure. He has muscles and lines in places I haven’t seen on anyone else outside of fitness magazines. He’s built his body, sculpted it, and I wonder just how many women have touched it. How many women have had the pleasure of raking their fingers through his hair or brushing their lips across his stomach? I can’t help but wonder, as he lies still in his shorts, what he looks like below the belt. Surely a man his size packs a decent-sized penis...or maybe that explains the size of the rest of him. Maybe he had to compensate? I smirk. If I voice my opinions, would he show me? I shake my head. What the hell am I doing?

I force myself to clear my head and I close my eyes, hoping to pull my brain out of my vagina. I last a second until I reopen them and my mind falls back into dirtier waters. It’s kind of sexy of Jai to pay so much money to save my life. I’ve never had someone do something so selfless for me...and the way it makes me feel is immeasurable in words. Besides paying him back, how can I ever show him how much his companionship means to me? I’ve never had a real friend before, and I know Jai and I are far from friends, but it feels awesome. No wonder people surround themselves with people all the time. It’s nice to hear your own voice and know someone else is listening.

Something scuffles in the corner and I shift dramatically on the bed, pulling my knees up to my chest. I curl my toes, noticing immediately that Jai has taken my shoes and socks off.  How convenient.

“Jai?” I whisper, clasping my chest.

I hear another scuffle, then a distinct squeak. My heart stops cold. Fucking RATS!

“Jai,” I try again, this time my voice sounding panicked and distressed.

Still, he doesn’t move. And I thought I was a heavy sleeper. I lean over the space between our beds and touch him. Under my fingertips, the muscles in his chest tighten and before I know it, his arm closes around mine and I squeak as he tugs me off my bed and onto his.

“Jai—”

Somehow, he gets me in a headlock and pulls me until my body is on top of his and I’m unable to move. Pinned. His legs wrap around mine and squeeze until my knee feels like it’s going to pop out of place.

“Will you stop—”

Freeing me from his arms but not his legs, he tugs ear buds I didn’t see from his ears.

“Fucking hell, Kitten, don’t sneak up on me,” he orders, his chest vibrating against mine.

I try to shift my legs free, but he flexes his thick thigh muscles and I wince as my knee complains.

“I called your name twice, and, for the last time, stop with the Kitten. That’s not my name.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, ignoring my protest.

In the dull light, I notice the ghost of amusement on his lips and I feel the way his chest rises and falls a little quicker than it was a second ago. I wonder if it’s because I scared him or because my damp body pressed so tightly against his is affecting him.

“I think I heard rats.”

My fingers twitch against his smooth chest and the corner of his mouth does the same.

“Rats?”

I nod. “Big ones.”

I hear the muffled music he was listening to filter out through the ear buds. It sounds like rap music. I’ve rarely had the time to listen to music since taking up my nursing course. Down here, it’s nice to hear something other than cheers and the occasional drip of water. Jai notices me looking at the ear bud and picks it up.

“You want to listen?”

I nod, forgetting all about the rats and our strange position. He tucks a thick lock of my hair behind my ear before slipping the piece in.

I haven’t heard such a dramatic assemblage of lyrics before. It’s hypnotizing and real, and a million other things. Even the ‘F’ bomb that’s dropped so frequently sounds reasonable and beautiful. I don’t ask him who’s rapping or who wrote the piece, taking solace in the unknown.

Jai hunts for his music device tucked somewhere beside his body. When he finds it, the screen lights up as he scrolls for another song. I fight a pout, not wanting him to change it from the one I’m listening to.

“You can rest your head and lie here for a little while,” he says, lightly pushing my head down until my warm cheek rests against his chest. “You know, with the rats on your side of the room and all.”

I smile despite myself and snuggle against him. Soon after, the music skips from a deep rap to slow rock. The singer has a smooth baritone voice, one that both caresses and fucks my ear canal with its magic. It makes me think of my job and how I’ve probably lost it. It makes me think of my apartment and the eviction notice I’m going to see if I ever get out of here. Strangely, the song makes me not care. When it flows into the chorus, I think about my life so far...and about my parents. I haven’t been able to shake the possibility of Skull knowing their names. If I knew their names, I could track them down. I don’t want anything from them; I just want them to know that I’m alive and I’m okay—that I made it without them. Or maybe I want to spy a little, to see if they even stop for a second to spare a thought for me.

“Do you think Skull will give me the name of my parents if I ask?”

Underneath me, Jai’s entire body clenches. He doesn’t respond, at least not for a while anyway, and in the silence, I try to comprehend what that means. Yes? No?

“He’ll help you,” he admits eventually. “At a price.”

“A price?”

“With Skull, there’s always a price.”

I purse my lips together and nibble the inside of the bottom one. What’s Skull’s price? “I don’t have any money.”

Jai scoffs. “Skull has plenty of it. He won’t bat an eyelid at any price you offer him. He’ll want something else from you.”

I frown, trying to decipher his vagueness. What else could Skull possibly want from me? I have no skills, none that could benefit him anyway—oh. Oh! I lift my head to look Jai in the face.

“You think he’d want a sexual favor?” I ask, my eyebrows rising into my hairline.

He opens his eyes. “With you? Undoubtedly.”

What does that mean? Is it because I’m simply a female or because Jai thinks I’m pretty enough to draw Skull’s attention? If Skull is as big as Jai claims he is, women would flock to him, and not just normal women, beautiful women. Wealth and power always draw out the beautiful women.

Jai groans. “Please tell me you’re not contemplating fucking Skull for information?”

I flinch, taking offense. I’d never use sex to get what I want. Ever.

“Excuse me? I’d never do such a thing. Not that it’d be any of your business if I did, anyway. You may have saved my life and I might owe you a shitload of money, but that doesn’t mean you own me.”

With a mighty flick of his hips, Jai tosses me off of him. Somehow, before I fly off the cot, he manages to snag my waist and tuck me underneath the weight of his body. For a larger guy he moves swiftly, as if he weighs only a quarter of his weight. The ear bud pops from my ear and I grip his arms as his legs spread mine and his hips pin me to the mesh underneath us. His breath comes hot and fast. It clashes with mine, less than an inch from our lips. I’ve never dealt with anyone as demanding as Jai. One word is all it takes for him to switch from cool and calm to hot and annoyed. Strangely, it’s sexy. The grip he has on my wrists, the pressure he puts on my pelvis, and the sight of his half-naked body above mine whips my blood cells into a frenzy.

“I own you,” he says, his voice stoking the fire in my blood. “I owned you the second I had you pinned against the warehouse.”

I swallow hard, unable to stop my chest from rising and falling so rapidly. I shake my head. “No. We live in the twenty-first century. That’s not how it works.”

His intense gaze flicks to my lips, unleashing a torrent of butterflies into my stomach. “How does it work then? You tell me.”

His eyes flick back to mine. I don’t know how it works. I don’t think you can own somebody; not their choices anyway. You can own their heart, but everything else is off the table. I’m yet to meet anyone who I’d let own me in every sense of the word.

And boy, is it a powerful word.

Own is a word that equates to love. Owning somebody means you have the ability to tear them apart at your mercy, and the choice of putting them back together...or not. That doesn’t sound like something I’d give up easily, if at all.

“I don’t know,” I utter, finally. “But it doesn’t work that way.”

I hold my breath as he lowers his head, stopping only when his lips graze mine. I gasp as they first touch. It sends a bolt of lightning into me, awakening every nerve before frying them completely. His lips are dry, but incredibly soft. His breath smells of mint and fresh water, if that makes any sense. I’ve been to and seen the large tunnel, much like the one the cage hangs over, they use as a community toilet, but I didn’t see any basins there to brush your teeth.

“You wouldn’t jump through hoops for me?” he asks in a low, husky voice as he drops a little more pressure onto my pelvis.

I shake my head, but I so fucking would. Right now, I’d jump through anything for him if he promised to give me a long, hard treat afterwards. It feels good having him there, separated by only the fabric we wear. In deeper thought, how dirty and gritty would it be to have sex right here, knowing anyone walking by could see or hear? How magnificent would the memory be? I’m burning up just thinking about it.

“I could make you,” he says, moving a hand towards my collarbone.

I still as he tucks his index finger under the neckline of my tank top and traces it down to my cleavage. He smirks as he takes in my rapidly moving chest. It’s like he’s touching my lungs, forcing them to show him just how badly they want to inhale him, to be filled with him. He’s moving quickly, sliding into second base and he hasn’t even kissed me yet.

“I could show you just how easy it is to fall under someone’s thumb.”

“I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit. I can never be controlled by a man—”

He swallows the tiny distance between our mouths and the instant he takes my lips, rockets shoot off in my body. His kiss spins my organs into a tempestuous whirl. He doesn’t wait for permission to enter my mouth. Instead, he bites down on my lower lip and swallows my gasp as he forces his tongue inside. When our tongues touch, a rumble vibrates deep in his chest and quivers onto mine as he gathers me closer, forcing me to feel his erection between my legs. At the apex of my thighs, I clench in painful pulses. Even the zipper of my shorts becomes an arousing tool to get me off.

That’s what I want.

To get off.

I want to come, and I want Jai to be the one to do it. A rough hand is what I need. It’s what I crave and he reads my mind. The hand at my cleavage travels down the outline of my body and onto the button of my shorts. With a quick yank, they pop open. He continues to fuck my mouth with his, relentlessly, while he slips his fingers under the fabric of my underwear. He’s all I taste, all I think about. His being consumes me inch by inch, threatening to leave me broken if he doesn’t finish what he started.

“You want me here?” he asks into my mouth as he slides a finger down my outer lips, making me shudder and flex my hips into his hand.

I can feel my wetness coating his index finger with desperation. Fevered, I nod my head and whimper weakly as he spreads my lips with the tip of his index finger.

“I don’t think you want it that badly.”

This time, I nod a little more desperately. “I do. God. Fuck. I do.”

His eyes flare and I feel it throughout my entire body. Whatever I’m doing, it’s what he wants. I can see it. “Get your tits out, Kitten, and I’ll have you seeing stars.”

In record time, and with shaky hands, I yank up my tank top and tug down my cotton bra. It sits tightly underneath my tits, pushing them right up. I look at Jai. He’s fixated on them, his eyes thinned into lusty slits. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip before thrusting his finger deep into me with a husky groan. My breath hitches and I grip the edges of the cot. Holy. Fuck me.

“You listen well like this,” he says and I hear the smile in his tone. “Maybe I should’ve done this from the beginning. Maybe then you wouldn’t have caused me so much trouble.”

Jai curls his finger and my entire body trembles as he strokes that one spot. The one that makes a girl lose her smarts.

“I like trouble.” I sigh. “It turns me on.”

And it does. People say stick with what you know, but I say stick with the unknown. Trouble lurks in the unknown and excitements breeds in the unknown. The unknown is what keeps me going.

My entire body clenches from the exhilarating sensation of his touch inside me. He pushes another finger in and I close my eyes to gain control as my body threatens to crumble under him. I slide my hands up his rock-hard torso and down his arms, storing every inch of him in my brain. I don’t want to forget a single detail. Not ever.

I push into his palm, forcing him deeper. My nipples ache, and I stretch to rub my breasts against his chest, but he has other ideas. As I arch my back, he dips his neck and catches a nipple between his teeth. I hiss, then moan as his tongue soothes the burn he created. I’m point five of a second away from breaking apart. He knows it too. Freeing my nipple from his sweet torture, he drags his mouth to my ear and I all but sigh as his cheek brushes mine.

“Do I own you, Emily?” he breathes in my ear.

In this moment, I’d agree to wear a collar with the name ‘KITTEN’ spelled out in fake diamond studs. It’s safe to say I’m putty in his hands.

“Yes.” I sigh, rocking my hips and forcing his fingers deeper inside me. “God, yes.”

“Told you,” he mumbles, but I pay no attention to it.

Convulsions rock me, and I catch the sound of his breath seizing in his throat as he pulls his head back enough to watch my face as I climax. I’m a mix of moans and shudders, each more violent than the last. He fingers me harder and faster, and with each speed I go off like a rocket for him, exploding into a thousand and one pieces.

Eventually, but not quietly, I come back down to earth. When I’ve caught my breath, Jai meets me, his face directly in front of mine and dead serious.

“If you go to Skull for help, you’re not going to get out. He’ll own you.”

I blink, confused. All of this...was to prove how easy it is to lose your head when you’re aroused? And I fucking failed.

He pulls my bra back up and tugs my shirt down. Then, Jai rolls us again until I’m on top of him. Brushing my hair away from my damp face, he locates my ear and slips an ear bud back inside. Slow rock plays once more.

Against my hip I feel him hard and wanting, but I’m too embarrassed to offer anything to help. I’ve just proven how easy it is to control someone...I’ve just proven how easy it would be for Skull to own me...I’ve just been finger banged underground by a stranger…

Shit.

Maybe sticking to the unknown isn’t my most stable piece of advice.

Chapter Eight

Drinks

I never fell asleep, but I faked it when morning rolled around and Jai woke up. Last night, he crashed out not long after he touched me, but I couldn’t. As my stomach twisted, both delightfully and painfully, I listened to one hundred songs that dragged me through one hundred different emotions. With an aggressive rap in one ear and his steady heartbeat in the other, I tried to rationalize my actions, but I kept coming back to one truth.

I am an idiot.

Once Jai left, an hour ago now, I moved back to my own cot. I have to talk to him about last night, that much I know. Though it didn’t mean anything on an emotional level, I have to clear the air. Most days, I’m not that kind of girl, and what happened was...was...not something I could’ve predicted. Ever. I don’t know how long I’m going to be down here, but I can’t sleep in a bed next to Jai and pretend what happened didn’t happen. If I bring it up, we can put it behind us and move on. That’s what responsible adults do, right?

Another ten minutes pass before I decide it’s less embarrassing to go out and find him than wallow in my own self-pity until he gets here. I swing my legs off the edge of my bed, cringing when my feet touch the concrete. I stand up and glance down at my clothes. My shirt is uneven and my bra is tucked uncomfortably at one corner. When I adjust them, I notice my shorts are wide open, exposing my black underwear. Sighing, I close the button and pull up the zipper. I feel dirty as I give myself another quick once-over. I wonder if anyone else can see what went on in here last night just by looking at me...I feel as though it’s written on my face. No one’s cheeks feel this warm unless they’ve done something dirty. As the thought passes, a tall woman with long, blonde hair walks by, and she raises her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at me. I frown, but there’s no mistaking it. She knows. These tunnels echo so clearly and if she sleeps in the same tunnel as us, there’s no avoiding it.

I slip into my black shoes, forgoing the socks, and step out into the main tunnel. As I walk past various nooks, crannies and service walkways, I see most people are still sleeping. I don’t blame them. There isn’t much else you can do down here. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a woman crying and a man yelling, calling her selfish. Poor girl. I’d hate to have my business aired so freely.

I don’t know exactly how long I walk around for. I mostly stick to the areas I know, too scared to venture off into a tunnel I haven’t walked through yet. I get lost easily. I always have. When my feet begin to ache against the thin, rubber soles of my shoes, I decide to head back to our space and wait for Jai there. I almost make it unbothered too, but I’m stopped just as I pass the cage. I drag my eyes from the floor and onto an old pair of sandals. Thick, hairy toes poke out the ends and wiggle as I watch. Grimacing, I force my stare up bare calves and onto tattered shorts before quickly pushing the rest of my attention up a slightly hairy chest and onto an angry face with the most disturbing spider tattoo right on the corner of his mouth. I groan. Not this fucking guy again. He’s not an attractive man, by any means, and the scowl on his face doesn’t help his appeal at all.

“Can I help you?” I ask, attitude thick in my voice.

I don’t have Jai with me so I need to play this smart, but I can tell by the man’s demeanor he has an issue with me and he needs to know I won’t tolerate it.

He slides closer, his scowl morphing into a twisted grin. “It was you, wasn’t it? The girl I heard last night.”

Just like that, fire ignites in my face and I know, in the glow of the spotlights, he can see it. Shaking my head, I stammer, unable to formulate a proper sentence. Giving up, I seek to push past him, but he blocks my path.

“I like your voice,” he purrs, reaching out to touch my lips.

I swat him away, the red in my cheeks becoming a result of anger, not embarrassment. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”

He shoots forward and grabs a fistful of my hair. The pain of it sears across my scalp and I wince. Gasping, I close my hand around his in an attempt to pry his fingers away, but he only tightens his grip. He smirks at the sounds I make.

“Oh, I have the right girl.”

I cringe and squeeze my eyes shut as he licks the side of my face with his gross, slimy tongue. My gag reflex starts twitching, my throat cramping as the wetness soaks into my pores. I’m going to throw up.

“Really, Kitten? You couldn’t have stayed out of trouble for an hour?”

My eyes shoot open at the sound of a familiar voice. My attacker releases my hair and I stumble backwards until my hand finds a weak railing. As I lift my shirt to wipe my face, I see Jai drive a powerful fist into my attacker’s mouth. If this were a cartoon, the spider would have been forced from his skin. I shuffle back as the sleazy guy crumbles to the floor, grasping at his mouth and moaning loudly. Jai steps over him and towards me. I cower at the size of him and the aggression in his steps. He flexes his hand at his side, balling it up before relaxing it once more.

“What are you doing?” he demands, his jaw clenching.

I rub at my face with my shirt. “I was looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t walk around here without me. You could get hurt.”

I lower my shirt and scowl at him. I see plenty of women walk around here—some not even wearing clothes. If I want to walk around, I should have that right. I don’t need to be babysat by Jai. I’m a grown-ass woman.

“You might call me Kitten, but I am not one. I can take care of myself.”

He flicks his eyebrows, his mouth morphing into a smile of complete mockery. I hate it. I hate being treated like a child.

“Okay, Miss Lioness, tell me, how were you going to handle that situation?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “If you gave me a little more time, I would have done something.”

He shakes his head. “When you’re in a situation like that, you don’t have time. The trick is avoiding the situation before it even has a chance to happen. He had you by your hair. You were as good as his if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

As good as his? Is he implying that I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off? I may be a smaller woman, but I am fucking fierce. I’d die long before I let anyone do something I didn’t want done to my body.

“You asshole!” the man growls, pulling himself to his feet.

Jai and I watch him as blood trickles from his mouth and down his chin.

“You’re going to fucking regret th—”

I shoot forward and cock my knee. While his attention is on Jai, I drive my foot forward with full force and I connect perfectly. Right in the baby-maker. He yells in my face and grips my shoulder. His breath smells horrid, like copper and rust, and his knees click together. I shrug out from underneath him and he drops to the floor. I don’t know if that kick is going to come back to haunt me, but for now, it felt nice to do. My heart-rate has elevated to dangerous levels, threatening to burst through my chest and I peer sideways at Jai, who smiles down at me. It’s reassuring.

I smirk back at him. “Say it.”

He angles his head. “Say what?”

“You’re impressed. Admit it.”

Jai smiles, a full-blown smile, one I haven’t seen before. It lights up his features and exposes his perfect white teeth. “How about I buy you a drink instead?”

I raise my eyebrows, interested. “And when and where am I going to collect it?”

He flicks his head towards the tunnel behind him, in the opposite direction of our nook. I haven’t ventured any further into the tunnels down here, but if there’s a place to ‘buy’ drinks, I’m sold.

We pass lots of fighters on the way. Some drunk. Some sober. All scary. For the most part, I keep my head down and stick close to Jai. About a mile down one tunnel, we pop out at yet another large opening. Whoever designed this underground system was clever. Every mile or so there are large open tunnels in the floor, allowing any excess water the previous tunnel didn’t catch to filter down. Being as close to the river as this industrial site is, I’m assuming they’ve also taken into account any flooding from there, thus ensuring the spillage from the river doesn’t flood the lower areas.

What amazes me most about this particular space are the naked people. Men. Women. Everyone. As naked as the day they were born. I notice the smell in here is different to the other tunnels. Various fruity aromas of pomegranate, peach, pineapple and apple, as well as manlier, earthier ones, flood into my nostrils. My attention rests on the steady stream of clean water that seeps from a small pipe above. It spits out the water, allowing at least twelve people below to wet their cloths and clean their bodies. Granted, it’s not the kind of shower that can efficiently wash away all of the day’s grime or relieve a back ache, but at least it’s something.

“This is the wash area.”

I grip his arm and squeeze. “Wait. A wash area? There’s a wash area?”

I watch people brush their teeth and rinse out clothes. All this time? All this time there has been a wash area and he never told me?

Jai nods and I glare up at him.

“I found it last night.”

That explains why he felt so nice to touch and his breath smelled of mint. Fresh, delightful mint. “And you didn’t tell me?”

He smirks. “I was distracted by other things.”

I look away from him as his eyes search my face for a reaction. I thought it’d be easy to address last night with him and play it off as nothing, but the thought alone is enough to make my blood simmer deliciously. God. Why does he have to have such a nice face? Boys are much easier to talk to when you don’t want to lick them from head to...well, head. I like those boys. They make me feel normal, not tingly.

“Now you know it’s here, let’s go to the bar and get a drink. You can wash later.”

I shake my head. Screw washing later. I need to be clean now. I need it more than I need air, more than I need anything. A gross grease covers the surface of my skin, my hair is oily and I’ve worn the same panties two, or is it three, days in a row. I will kill anyone who gets in my way.

“Where’s the bar?” I ask, deciding to skip pointing out the unrealistic notion of there being a bar down here.

He outstretches his arm, the ropes of muscle lengthening with it, at the tunnel directly in front of us. Out of all the nooks and crannies Jai chose, he had to choose the one down the end with the toilet. Just my luck. I’d be much happier down here.

“You go, I’ll meet you there.”

He gives me a once-over before he exhales. He knows it’s a lost cause, so he leaves. When he’s gone, excitement bubbles inside me like nothing else. I’m smiling widely, stupidly, as I inch towards the falling water. I pause a few feet out from a woman washing her long, auburn hair. At her feet sit all of her products, from body wash to shampoo, and it smells divine.

Her body is in perfect shape. When I say perfect, I’m talking slim hips, flat stomach, big natural boobs and long legs. Yeah, there’s no way I’m getting naked in front of her.

I slip my hands under the water and let the warm liquid run over the skin on my hands. It feels ...indescribable. I close my eyes and let a lazy smile curve my lips only to open them again a second later when the woman next to me toys with a loud plastic. I try not to stare as she bends over to free a baby wipe from its packet, but I fail. To my surprise, when she straightens her posture, she extends the clean wipe to me.

“Forget your stuff, did you?” She assumes in a thick, Russian accent.

I start to shake my head and explain my situation, but then I change my mind. “Yes, wow, thank you.”

The woman beams at me, and sadly, her smile doesn’t match the rest of her physique. Missing teeth isn’t a feature I was expecting on someone so perfect in every other way. I run the cloth under the water, then press it to my face. I hold it there, allowing my pores to soak up as much moisture as they can before I scrub them clean.

“You’re not getting undressed?” she asks, lathering her chest with soap.

“No. Not in front of all these people.” I glance around.

Men and women line the walls, watching and enjoying the crowd of naked people. The last thing I want is attention of the wrong kind. I want to avoid another situation like the one I just had with Spiderface.

“Your man doesn’t stay to protect you? If he stayed you could get naked.”

My man? Oh, she means Jai. I snort. “No. He’s waiting at the bar.”

The woman points across the room to a tall, broad-shouldered bald man. “You see him? He is my guy.”

Her guy watches her, his stare not once leaving her body. I don’t blame him. I find it hard to keep my eyes away too. She’s flawless. I run the wipe down the back of my neck.

“How long have you two been together?”

“A day and a half.”

I pause, confused. Did I hear her correctly? Did she say a day and a half? “You met here?”

She nods. “It took me a long time to realize it, but it’s best move to find lover and protector down here.”

I frown. “Why?”

Her bright, green eyes brighten with laughter and she swats at me.

“For safety and to secure position. It’s not safe for women down here. We must survive.”

She retrieves her bottle of shampoo and holds it out. I don’t hesitate holding out my hand, and she squeezes a generous amount inside my palm. With a warm smile, she gathers the rest of her stuff and trots across the room to her ‘lover’. He swats her on the ass the second she gets within arm’s reach and I frown. Ew. Imagine being touched so intimately by someone you barely know. I catch on to my train of thought just as it finishes. I can’t talk. I’ve known Jai a few days and he’s already touched my most intimate place.

I tip my head back and let the water dampen my hair, then, I run the shampoo through the strands and let it soak for a few minutes. While that’s doing its thing, I gather rogue shampoo bubbles from the top of my hair onto my wipe and scrub the rest of my body with it. When I close my eyes, I imagine I’m alone and in my apartment, enjoying a nice warm shower.

After I wash out my hair, I make an attempt to get my panties off without taking off my shorts. Somehow, I manage it. I even manage to borrow a squirt of body wash from the girl to my left to clean them with. I don’t know what’s more disturbing, the fact I’m cleaning my underwear with body wash or that I’m excited I get to wear the unappealing cotton fabric again in a few hours’ time. Who knew it’d take getting trapped underground with no toiletries for me to love my cotton underwear.

I contemplate stuffing my panties into the pocket of my shorts, but decide against it. Instead, I head back in the direction of our little space so I can lay them out on my bed. I want them aired out and I want to change my clothes while I’m at it too. Now my skin is clean, the fabric that grazes it feels...soiled. I’ll change into something else, then meet Jai in the bar for a drink.

I cross my fingers hoping the drinks are alcoholic because booze is the only thing that will help me keep a straight face when I sit before Jai, panty-less and clean.

Chapter Nine

Words

Warm air blows around my exposed calves. Oh God, it feels good to be clean. Is there a feeling better than cool, damp hair on your warm back when you’re struggling to breathe through the hot air?

I brush my fingertips along my bare stomach. I’ve never dressed like this before. I’ve never shown my belly button or exposed my hips. Still, I keep my head high and walk with confidence as I make my way back into the washroom. More people are showering now than they were before. They look happy, completely relaxed, and it makes me want to take off my clothes and do it all over again. I watch the quick succession of droplets that fall from the pipe. It’s amazing how such little allowance feels like a torrential downpour when you need it most. I, for one, will never complain about the pressure of my shower at home ever again.

I keep walking and head into the tunnel Jai pointed out earlier. A mile down, I pop out the end and right into a bar area. Of course, it doesn’t actually look anything like a bar, but I get the point. It’s a place you come to buy drinks. I scan the large area, looking over people that crowd around crates and shake their tin cups as they tell epic stories. There is no music, only the sound of cheerful conversation. My favorite kind.

On the other side of the room, I see a hand go up and it leads me directly to Jai. On the crate he leans on, two tin cups sit, filled with synthetic confidence in liquid form. I peer into them as I approach.

“Whiskey,” he announces, nudging my cup as his eyes flit to my bare stomach.

His analyzing gaze makes me feel self-conscious as well as overheated. A few seconds in and his presence is already forcing my pulse to hit overdrive and my skin to prickle all over. I expected to feel less heat between my legs now I’ve experienced a small piece of Jai, but if anything, it’s multiplied tenfold. I want to lick his chest and kiss his lips. I want to feel his rough hands all over my body and between my legs once more. Trying my best not to squeeze my thighs together, I lower myself onto the little stool across from him, thankful the crate hides the majority of my naked stomach.

“I thought the black halter wasn’t your style?”

“It’s not,” I say, reaching for my cup. “But it’s the only thing that matches these leggings.”

Jai draws his cup to his lips. “They’re nice leggings.”

I have to agree. Not only do they fit and are comfortable, they also had the price tag still attached. Whoever owned these before paid a pretty penny for them. If I lost them, I’d be pissed. I sip at the whiskey and wince as it burns its way down my throat. I cough and cover my mouth.

“It tastes like gasoline.”

Crinkles surface around his eyes as he smiles while swallowing a mouthful of his own whiskey. “Just as expensive, too.”

I raise my eyebrows. “An interesting statement from someone who catches the train.”

“I have a car, but I enjoy catching the train. I like the grittiness of it all.”

I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who enjoys catching the train. I hate it with a passion—the smells, the people, the stops—ugh.

“When you’re not riding the subway and smashing innocent women’s tablets, what do you drive?”

His eyes flare and I can tell I’ve stumbled on a topic he’s passionate about. “A Ford Mustang, Shelby, GT500.”

I stare at him. All I heard were words. Words I don’t understand the meaning of. When I ask someone what they drive, I expect a color or a one-name brand. ‘A blue one’ is a good answer or ‘a Nissan’ works too. I can understand those. When more than one name comes out of their mouth, followed by a bunch of numbers, I’m lost. Jai catches on, too.

“A red one with black stripes up the middle.”

I smile. “Fast?”

A stupid question. It’s red; of course it goes fast. Jai tips his head to the side a little. It’s endearing—cute, even.

“She does all right. What’s with the questions?”

I shrug. “We sleep in the same room. It makes sense we should get to know each other a little more.”

Jai leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. I drop my stare from his and watch as he trails his index finger along the rim of his tin cup. At any moment I expect blood to roll down the dull metal, but he keeps his touch light and careful.

“You really think knowing me a little more will make you feel any better about what you let me do last night?”

His tone confuses me. It’s half amused, half serious. I wondered who was going to address last night’s situation first. I would have done it in a roundabout way, but I guess Jai’s style is more...straight to the point.

“This has nothing to do with last night. I don’t need to make myself feel better. I own my actions.” I frown. “Wait. Are you implying I should think less of myself because of what happened?”

“Not at all.”

I grip my tin cup in my hand. “Then what are you saying?”

Jai’s full lips fight a smile. It seems almost everything I say is amusing to him. He’s not taking this conversation as seriously as I am, and it bugs me.

“What I’m saying is, what’s done is done. Even if I tell you my whole life story, we’ll always share that moment as strangers.”

His stare flickers over my burning cheeks and watering eyes. I don’t think I’ve been in a more embarrassing conversation. This is the first time I’ve ever had a conversation with a guy that has given me an orgasm, after the fact.

I cover my face with my hands. “This is humiliating.”

Jai laughs once. “Don’t be embarrassed. You were perfect.”

Perfect? I peer through my fingers. There’s no humor to his look. Whatever is happening in the depths of his ocean-like eyes makes me feel sixteen all over again.

Virginal.

Curious.

Shameless.

It’s an art, saying the right words to make a girl feel like a puddle of jelly, an art I suspect Jai has mastered.

Dropping my hands from my face, I sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”

He studies me while I rake my teeth over my bottom lip. “We could, but I think I prefer making you blush.”

I roll my eyes. Of course he does. “Please? I find this topic of conversation uncomfortable—even in normal circumstances.”

He exhales and slumps into his chair. “Fine. We can change the topic, but I’m revisiting it once you’ve had a few drinks. I want to know where your panties have disappeared to.”

It takes me a few long seconds to process what he’s said. When I do, my cheeks burn unlike anything I’ve experienced before. How can he tell? He’s looking at me, his eyes dancing while his mouth taunts me with a lopsided smirk.

“I’m wearing them,” I tell him, but the certainty I hoped for doesn’t reach my voice.

He leans closer and I focus on his lip as he drags his tongue along the bottom one. To tease me or moisten it, I have no idea.

“I know you’re not.” His voice is unbearably intimate and I squeeze my thighs together. “And it’s making it really hard for me to stay on this side of the table.”

I swallow hard, my attention flicking to his lips. “This isn’t the place.”

My attempt at protesting is lame. My drama teacher always said that if you can’t convince yourself, you’re not going to convince anybody, and it’s true. Jai doesn’t look the sold, not in the slightest.

His irises dance with indecent excitement as he taps the side of his cup. “There’s never a good place, Kitten, but you’re right. After last night. I’ve decided I don’t like the idea of someone else hearing your husky voice as I make you come.”

I inhale and hold until my lungs burn. How does he say those things? How do they just tumble from his mouth and make my pussy swell? I pull my cup to my mouth and take one large mouthful, then another. I swallow it and grit my teeth before pushing my cup across the crate. He gets the hint and with a sexy half-smile, he grabs the cup, pushes out of his seat and saunters across the room.

Fucking hell.

I bunch my hair up in one hand to expose my neck while I fan my face with the other. How am I going to make it through the rest of the day without having Jai take me against a tunnel wall? Using only his words, he has all of my nerves heightened. If we were elsewhere, and alone, I’d have made him tear my leggings with his teeth already. I can tell he wants to.

I want it too.

More than anything.

***

When Jai returns with full cups, conversation lightens up. I’m grateful. My nipples were beginning to sting they were rubbing that hard against the fabric of my halter.

“I really am sorry for breaking your tablet,” he admits after I tell him about my studies and how long I’ve been doing them for.

His eyes are no longer wide and alert. The whiskey has slackened them, turning them into tired slits. My eyes feel the same—tired and heavy with impure thoughts. I stopped at three cups, deciding here wasn’t the place I should completely lose my mind.

“Thank you. Although, if you had come clean in the first place, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Jai shuffles his small crate chair closer to me and when he rests his arms on the makeshift table, his arm brushes against mine. Hyperawareness of his warm skin sizzles through me.

“If you can tell me with absolute honesty that you actually enjoyed your life before you came here, I’ll apologize for that too.”

My brows furrow. I certainly didn’t hate my previous life, but it did lack the excitement every other twenty-five-year-old was having. I haven’t really thought about it. In a way, I’m kind of unbothered by the thought of losing my place in my studies and not completing the course. I don’t own much and I’m late to pay rent on my apartment, also. My landlord told me she wouldn’t wait for me again, so it’s safe to say I’m officially homeless. And...I don’t care.

“I don’t want this to be my life, if that’s what you mean.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Then what are you saying?”

He inches closer, his face unbearably close to mine. “I see the way you react to the fights. I feel your body tighten and relax. Your pupils dilate. Your breath becomes heavy. You hate being down here, but you love the darkness of it all—the dirtiness.”

I swallow the pool of moisture in my mouth. Every word he says is true. I need this. I needed to be pulled from my old life and forced into a new one. I don’t ever want to go back. I can’t do plain now I’ve experienced the flavors of another life. My heart is set on Italy. If I don’t get Italy, I’ll die.

“You’re observant,” I say, involuntarily tilting my face towards his.

Jai’s eyes darken, filling with desire. “It’s important. It drives me crazy, you know.”

“What does?”

“Standing so close to you when you’re watching a fight and knowing your thoughts and your attention isn’t on me.”

My lips part as I expel a heady breath of air. There’s something animalistic about this man. There’s something he has that I want to be a part of, but as turned on as I am, I refuse to slip under his thumb so easily. “You’re fishing for something. I’m not as naïve as you think, Mr. Stone.”

His lips pull on one side. “I don’t need to trick you, Emily. You’re a big girl. You know what you want.”

Why? Why is he trying to get under my skin all of a sudden? Why is he talking to me as if he wants my legs around him more than anything else in the world? Fucking wasn’t a priority yesterday.

“And what do I want?”

“Me,” he states, simply. “And I want you.”

My throat dries. Word by word, he’s killing me, winding me tighter than ever before. I’m about to implode. Every sense is heightened. Even the rogue drop of sweat rolling between my breasts feels erotic as it teases my pores.

“What’s changed?” I ask, curiously. “You’re so certain this is what you want. What’s made you so adamant?”

“Something happened.”

Hooked, I raise my brows. “What happened?”

“You. You came so tightly and so perfectly around my fingers, agreeing to everything I said. Your hot breath blew across my face again and again as your body rocked beneath mine.”

He pauses to glance at my chest as it quickens in pace. Satisfied, his irises come back to mine, and a flash of something beautiful and raw sparks in them. It rushes through my body like lightning, relentlessly striking every nerve.

“My cock is jealous. It wants to accomplish the same feat.”

Holy.

Fuck.

Chapter Ten

Shameless

With a gasp I stumble forward but catch myself against the wall, my hands shoulder width apart. Jai’s body covers mine, pushing me harder against the dirty tunnel wall, his hard cock pressing fiercely into my ass cheek. I don’t know what happened between our conversation in the bar and our tiny nook, but somewhere between there and here, we decided we were going to fuck.

Hard.

His hand skims the arch of my back and the feel of his rough, calloused flesh sends my body into overdrive. As it slips onto the curve of my ass, my exposed skin tingles where he touched it. I expect my body to calm with every breath I take, but I only work myself up more.

With his free hand, he brushes my hair to the side and presses his hard body against my spine. I shiver as his breath blows across my ear in heavy, excited pants. As one hand grips my ass, the other brushes away hair at the nape of my neck, only to replace it with warm, wet lips. I sigh as his lips part and he grazes my skin with his teeth.

“I’m not going to lie,” he speaks, letting an arm slide around my waist. “I’ve thought about this since the first night.”

“You have?”

His hand presses firmly against my taut tummy, urging my ass on to him. Jai groans his yes, sending rough, glorious tingles down my spine. “From the second I pushed you up against the warehouse and saw your fuckable lips.”

I simper. “Refresh my memory? Was that before or after you insinuated I was a crack-whore?”

He pushes forward and snags my earlobe between his teeth. I hiss and push back on him, making him grind harder into my ass. I love the way his body covers mine, like a warm blanket of sex and alpha male. It creates a surge of electricity inside me and I can’t stop it. I need him. I need him like I need air.

Pushing against him, I turn around and pause when we stand torso to torso. His abs clench against my stomach, and his eyes hold mine in a grip so crushing, I’m certain I’m going to drown if he doesn’t let me come up for air. Throwing me a safety net, Jai’s lips crash to mine and I moan as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. He’s so male.

Dominant.

Assertive.

Certain.

I’m burning up and drenching my leggings with desperation and need. Teasing me with his tongue, Jai slips a hand between our bodies and presses a long, hard finger against my sensitive spot. I inhale against his mouth and feel the muscles around his lips try to smile, but he fights it. His firm fingertip circles me with a soft, almost absent pressure, but tingles grow with his touch regardless. Then, I feel his fingers curl around the band to my tights and push. I move my hips, helping him get the fabric down over my ass. When the fabric touches my knees, his mouth releases me and he grips my shoulders. I barely have time to lick my lips and savor his taste before he turns me around and pulls my ass towards him. I grip the wall as best I can, digging my fingertips into the eroded concrete as he undoes his belt. The sound is all the foreplay I need. Even the rustle of a foil packet being torn is enough to keep me heated.

In the next heartbeat, I feel him pressed into my back and the length of him settles between the cheeks of my ass. My breath hitches and his cock spasms. It turns him on. His hands come around my waist and onto my breasts. With a grip much too tight but all too arousing, he squeezes me in his hands, flicking my nipples between his fingers. I haven’t known Jai for long, but there’s no denying he’s a force of nature.

Caught up concentrating on my breathing, I don’t realize Jai has moved his hips until he places the tip of his long, thick cock in the gap of my thighs, directly beneath my entrance. The warmth of his flesh makes me gasp loudly. Smiling against the shell of my ear, he rocks his hips and I feel the fabric of his pants against the back of my legs. He’s kept his clothes on. To passers-by, he looks fully clothed.

Gripping himself and moving his hips, he works the head of his cock across my folds, pushing into my opening only to transfer my arousal onto him.

I whimper, with arousal or agony, I don’t know. All I know is I want him.

Bad.

So. Fucking. Bad.

“You have to keep it down if you don’t want others to hear you,” he whispers into my ear and I bite my lower lip.

If he didn’t feel so good, staying quiet wouldn’t be a problem. But he does feel good. Oh, he feels fucking amazing, and he hasn’t even entered me yet.

“Fuck them,” I pant, resting my forehead against the concrete wall.

We could be in the cage, in front of everybody, and I still don’t think I’d give a shit as long as Jai kept touching me.

“Not them,” he murmurs into my ear. “Only you.”

With a rough pull on my hip, Jai enters me and a rush of air is forced from my lungs. I barely have time to register the feeling of him entering my body it happens so quickly. The first jolt of pleasure as he stretches me, seizes my spine and my entire body stiffens at the feeling. He chuckles darkly in the back of his throat as he slowly drags himself back out again. Then he pumps into me, stroking me deeply, and I moan low in my throat. Warmth from his chest exudes onto my back as he presses harder against me. I close my eyes and groan feebly as his teeth graze my ear, making a bolt of excitement shoot through me.

“You feel too good. Too tight. Too wet,” he groans, his voice husky and heavy. “I can’t take it. No more playing, Kitten”

Without warning he moves faster, harder, fucking me for real and I just about lose it. Electricity frissons down my spine and mixes with my arousal, creating a dangerous chemical reaction of desperation and need. Jai’s movements speed to a frantic pace and he grunts and growls low in his chest, pushing me towards release as he continues to fuck me. He grips my ass, squeezing with all his might as he continues to thrust in long, quick strokes. Pleasure zips through my body and dances along my spine. I’m quickly falling away from reality. Nothing else matters in this moment; nothing except my desires.

Letting go of my ass, Jai trails a trembling hand over my hip and down between my legs. His breath hitches against my earlobe when my wetness coats his finger as he drags it over my clit, making me shudder. He pulses inside me once, twice, before exhaling in defeat. He’s going to come. He doesn’t have the strength to hold on. I won’t let him. Another shudder shakes my body as his thumb strokes me. I reach between us, pushing his hand away.

“You don’t need help making me come,” I pant, swallowing hard. “Fuck me harder.”

I don’t want the sensation of his calloused thumb to distract me from the feel of his hardness. I desire that more. I desire to be fucked, not rubbed. I don’t need it.

He yanks me back and flicks his hips, forcing his cock deeper. A sharp jolt of pleasure seizes my spine and my entire body stiffens at the feeling once more.

“Too much?” he asks, and I hear the amusement in his tone.

“Not for me.”

He chuckles darkly in the back of his throat as he slowly drags himself back out, leaving only the tip inside me. A shiver makes my thighs tremble as I squeeze the tip of him as tightly as I can. I smirk when he gasps under his breath. Jai grips my jaw and pulls my face to the side, as far as it can possibly go. Then, his lips crash to mine, and he forces my mouth open with his tongue. His kiss sends my head whirling, sucking all rational thought from my brain and the air from my lungs. The thought of him taking everything from me and coming into the latex sleeve that separates our bodies has me leaking everywhere. He trusts again, harder, and I feel him deep inside me, painfully deep. My mouth parts against his to let out a sharp hiss, but he doesn’t care. His mouth devours my hiss and he thrusts again, drawing another from me.

“Yes,” I gasp, arching my back. “Give me more.”

Over and over I beg him until I explode, the spasms in my pussy tightening rhythmically around his cock. That’s all it takes for Jai to find his own release. He groans into my mouth, squeezing my jaw until it hurts. The movement of his hips becomes uneven, powerful still, but uneven. He holds me in place, his tongue caressing my lips for a small eternity afterwards. His body is heavy, but I don’t mind it pressing so protectively against me for the time being.

When the euphoria wears off, that’s when the feeling of humiliation kicks in. It was nice being shameless in public for a little while, but now I’m back to reality with dirt on my face and a semi-erect cock still inside me. It’s not my proudest moment, but at least I feel a lot more relaxed.

Taking his mouth from mine, Jai brushes my hair away from my neck and replaces it with his lips. Heat stokes itself in my stomach as his cock pulses softly inside of me.

“I want you again, Kitten,” he murmurs, his voice holding the alluring tone it did when we were in the bar area. “You fit me so well. I need it again.”

My eyes thin, my lids growing heavy with lust once again. “When?”

Gripping my waist, he slips out of me and turns me around so my back is flush against the wall. Seeing his face so close to mine takes my breath away. To think someone like him, someone so perfect, would want me does crazy things to my body.

“Now. Later on. Tomorrow,” he groans and leans in, bringing his mouth to mine. “I wish we weren’t here. Your pussy feels so good, I want to taste it too.”

My sex clenches, completely sold on his words. I let my stare fall to his lips...what I wouldn’t give to feel them against my core. “That’s all you want?”

His blue eyes flare and he shakes his head. “I want to rub my cock on your lips, feel it deep in your throat.”

Oh. Sweet. Fuck. Me. Saliva pools under my tongue and I swallow it.

“Every hole you have, I want to claim.” He surges forward and catches my bottom lip between his teeth, smirking when I wince and my knees wobble.

I sigh as the back of his hand caresses my abdomen before slipping between my legs. I inhale sharply and fall against the concrete wall as a jolt of pleasure engulfs me. All I see is Jai’s smile and his heavy lids. It’s a look that promises me ecstasy.

A look that promises me escape.

It’s a look I never thought I’d see on a man like him.

And it’s all for me.

Chaper Eleven

The Pardon

I groan. My head hurts, and not in the same way my vagina does. While a pleasant ache pulses between my thighs, a not-so-pleasant ache throbs over every inch of my skull.

I didn’t drink to get drunk in the bar, but it seems I drank just enough to acquire a hangover.

Oh, joy.

Normally, when I drink enough for a hangover to hit, I walk it off in the fresh air. Here, there is no fresh air. I groan again and force my head up. I blink a few times and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It’s not quiet in the tunnels. Cheering, roaring and rattling chains echo all around me. It seems more round one fights are occurring just down the tunnel. If my brain had a voice box, it’d scream right about now. Instead, it pulses agonizingly in my skull.

When my sight comes around, I glance down at the body underneath me. I can just make out his face as he watches me back, blinking tiredly. I slept on Jai. Again. I shift a little, but pause when I notice every single inch of our bodies are naked. The only thing that covers us is a large, blue cotton shirt and even then, a big portion of our legs are still exposed. He feels amazing underneath me, his skin as smooth as silk, and muscles firm and safe.

My fingers twitch against his bare chest as silence quickly begins to thicken the air between us. I wonder what he’s thinking. Was it okay for him? Does he want me to go? Does he want to go? Am I too heavy? Question after question filters into my mind and I’m powerless to stop them. This is the curse every woman has to deal with—endless questions that don’t need to be asked. When they’re asked, a shit storm ensues because we’re always given the answer we don’t want. Still, we ask them, don’t we? If we don’t ask, we become paranoid, then depressed, until finally, we morph into all kinds of bat-shit crazy.

I laugh nervously. “This is when the regret settles in, right?”

I don’t want his answer. I don’t want to hear him say he regrets it, because I don’t. Liberation mixes with my shame and it’s confusing me. In a way, I’ve never felt as free in my life as I did when we fucked. It was real, raw and unadulterated. It was my initiation into this new life—however short.

His fingers play along each side of my ribs, but it doesn’t make me any less nervous. The strongest backhands always come from those who caress the softest.

“Do you regret what we did?” he asks, his face betraying no emotion.

“No,” I reply with absolute certainty.

“Good.” He grips my waist and pulls me higher so my lips are in line with his. “Because I want more.”

My breath hitches as the rigidness of his eager cock presses against my inner thigh. Sweet mother of God, I’ve hit the jackpot. I wonder if you can fuck away a hangover. I’ve never tried, but I’m willing to test it out. Opening my legs so I straddle his hips, I lower my mouth to his. He parts his lips, anticipating my kiss. I don’t give it to him. Instead, I drag my tongue along his bottom lip, making something sexy rumble in his chest and vibrate against my nipples. I don’t know what we’re doing or how long it’ll last, but for now, it’s a nice escape. I can almost forget my surroundings with him here to distract me. I slide my fingers up his chest and into his black, spikey hair. I’ve wanted to touch his hair for a while. There’s something sexy about the way it sits all uncaring and unplanned. As I plant my lips on the corner of his mouth, the sound of someone clearing their throat freezes me in my spot, Jai too. I don’t dare look to the entrance. Instead, I let Jai do the honors. When he does, the muscles in his body tighten to maximum point, making my stomach churn.

“Stone. Three days and you’re up,” the man says before he tosses something heavy onto the ground.

Jai pulls the cotton shirt tighter around me, so it wraps and covers most of my privates. With a flick of his hips, I’m on my back with a great portion of flesh showing to the man lingering by the opening. I shuffle on the cot to cover as much as I can while Jai slips into a pair of sweatpants, uncaring that someone else is watching. Embarrassment prickles over the surface of my skin, but it quickly becomes unnoticeable as Jai picks up a heavy, tattered, black punching bag.

It’s time for Jai’s round one.

If he loses, I’m in here by myself.

Suddenly, I understand why that Russian woman in the shower found someone to protect her. It’s dangerous down here. Who’s going to protect me once Jai is gone?

I look to Jai and see his eyes narrow in on the stranger. He watches me, hungrily, his creepy, black stare drinking in each slice of exposed flesh.

“Perhaps you can’t see it through the blue cotton of my shirt,” Jai says, inching closer to the man. “She’s mine, and if you value your eyes in your socket, you’ll show me a little respect.”

I swallow hard, both scared and a little turned on. The man at the door scratches the back of his scruffy head. “She doesn’t look like much of a fighter.”

“Yeah, well, don’t underestimate her. She’ll kick your ass.”

He grins. “I’m sure she will. We’ll see how well she does in three days.”

“Excuse me?” I chime in before Jai has the chance.

“Oh, didn’t I mention it?” He laughs an impish laugh, all while smiling widely. “Your girlfriend fights in three days too. Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

With a flick of his hand, he turns and leaves, leaving Jai and I staring after him. The heat that once filled my body drains out through my pores, along with my color.

I’m going to fight.

In three days.

I push myself into a sitting position and pull Jai’s blue shirt on over my head before hugging myself tightly.

“You’ll be fine,” he says—or lies, rather.

I’m not going to be fine. I’m the only one down here who doesn’t know how to throw a proper punch. I don’t know how to block or kick—I don’t even know if you can surrender. Strangely, that’s not all that bothers me now. What bothers me most is that in three days’ time...I might not see Jai again. If he wins his fight and I lose, I’m out of here. If he loses and I, by some miracle, win, I’ll be stuck down here all alone. I don’t want either of those things.

“I’m as good as dead,” I utter, tucking my hair behind my ears.

He shakes his head. “I’ll teach you a few things. You’ll be fine.”

“A few things isn’t going to make up for a lifetime of no fighting. All my opponent has to do is push me over and she’s won.”

I let my head fall back against the concrete. I’m done for and I realize I’m closer to going back to my old life than I thought.

“Kitten—”

“Enough with the Kitten,” I snap, raking my fingers through my hair. “I don’t want to feel weaker than I already am.”

Jai turns his large body in my direction. His eyes are dark, his lips pursed into a thin line. All of his features say ‘don’t fuck with me’ and I don’t.

“It’s my fault you’re down here so it’s my job to take care of you, Kitten. You’ve got this round in the bag; I know you do.”

“And if I win and you get your money? Then what am I to you?”

It’s a question that has burned inside me for a few days now. Once I don’t owe him anything, what happens? He has his own plans down here; he wants to find his brother. There’s no way he’s going to choose me over his family.

“This—” He gestures between us, “—isn’t about the money.”

“Oh really?” I spit, rolling my eyes. “What’s it about?”

His eyes scrunch at the corners as they thin. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say what I said hurt him.

“You don’t believe me?”

I want to, but ten thousand dollars is a lot of money. I’d sell my kidney for ten thousand and maybe throw in my first born, too. “No.”

He nods, slowly, as if he doesn’t know how to process what I said. It makes me feel strange, watching him.

“You know what? I was going to wait until your first round to tell you, but since you’re so sure I’m an asshole, now’s the perfect time to reveal I don’t want the money back.”

My eyes widen and my heart inflates in my chest, limiting my breathing capacity. I didn’t see that coming.

“Why?”

“Because I fucking have money. I have lots of it—more than I know what to do with. Would the ten grand have helped me down here? Sure, but you need it more than I do.”

I feel odd sitting here in his T-shirt and having this argument with him. I don’t know how I should handle it...Are we friends? Are we more? Are we nothing, just two people being human? This whole time I’d thought he wanted his money back, but this morning he’s singing a different tune. Is it a result of the time we spent together yesterday, chatting and being carefree, or was it the sex? Was it that good? It has to be something. He saved my life—he doesn’t owe me anything, yet here he is, willing to temporarily throw his cause out the window to make my life easier.

“I’m a stranger to you. Why would you want to help me?”

Jai turns so I can’t see his face, only the rigid muscles in his back. I know the stance. I’m not getting an answer out of him and it makes me nervous. Does he actually want to help me, or does he have some kind of secondary motive? I’d like to think I can trust Jai, but something is holding me back. It could be the atmosphere, the situation, that’s preventing me from trusting him...or maybe it takes more than a pretty face to fool me. The shrink I saw a few times earlier this year would chalk it up to mommy and daddy issues. He’d claim I was finding it difficult, accepting the fact someone cares about me when the two people who were meant to didn’t.

I sigh. For the first time since meeting Dr. Stein, I hope he’s right. I hope it’s my issues preventing me from trusting Jai and not some weird sixth sense.

Because I need him.

I won’t survive alone.

Chapter Twelve

Preparation

I pull the fabric of his shirt higher over my head. The sound of Jai beating his fists into the punching bag over and over is making me nauseous. He started an hour ago and I don’t know how he’s still managing to connect with so much power. I’m only listening to him and it’s enough to make my arms feel like jelly. I don’t know much about his punching technique, but he’s strong, that I know for sure. I can hear the material struggle to absorb his strength, hit after hit. The chain and the pipe he’s slung the heavy bag over creaks and complains, and I expect it to come crashing down every time he connects. Somehow, it doesn’t.

“You can’t hide under my clothes forever, Kitten,” Jai announces, amusement lacing his tone.

“Maybe not forever, but I’m happy with right now.”

Jai stops punching his bag and a small eternity later, a single, warm index finger circles my ankle and glides up my calf, leaving a line of fire in its wake. My breath is trapped in my throat when the finger falls away. Where will it appear next? I try to feel his presence, feel his body warmth, but it’s already so dense in here.

That’s when the shirt I’m using to cover my face is yanked away from me and tossed across the small space. Luckily, I put clothes on a little while ago, otherwise my goodies would be out for all to see.

I adjust my lime-green tank top and fold my arms.

“Get up. We’ve got training to do,” he orders.

I pout. There’s no way I’m punching that thing. What if I miss? What if I hurt myself, or pull a muscle? “I’d rather die.”

He sneers at me, his eyes flaring wickedly. “And you probably will if you don’t learn something before then.”

Jai extends a wrapped hand to me and I eye up the thick, blue fabric. It’s a killer color next to his tanned complexion.

“Why’s it wrapped?”

He smiles. “To compress the soft tissues of my hand when I’m punching faces.”

Charming. “I don’t have any wraps.”

He clicks his fingers impatiently and nudges his open hand closer. “Doesn’t matter right now. Get up.”

Defeated, tired, and still with a killer headache, I put my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet. He grins down at me when my head lolls to the side. His apparent happiness glistens in his blue eyes. I’m glad he’s happy, but I’m not on the same level. To be honest, I’m still a little bothered he ignored my question earlier. Why does he want to help me if there’s no money in it for him?

“How old are you?” he asks, angling his head.

Usually, the age questions is something you ask before fucking like animals. What if I was sixteen? Too late. “Twenty-five. Why?”

“Twenty-five? Are you sure?”

I arch a brow. What kind of question is that? “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m twenty-five.”

“Funny. You have the exact same attitude as my sixteen-year-old sister when she’s told to do things. It’s unnerving.”

Instead of finding the fact he compared me to a sixteen-year-old annoying, I find myself endeared he even has a sister. There’s something about him loving and caring for a sibling that moves me. I bet all of her friends crush on Jai. Hard.

“You have a sister?”

He frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like someone just handed you a puppy.”

My lips pull wider, despite Jai’s confused expression. Rolling his eyes, Jai presses his wrapped hand to the small of my back and nudges me towards the bag.

“I just think it’s sweet your sister has someone like you to look after her.”

He presses the fingers of his other hand to the bag to prevent it from swinging. The bag is tattered and worn—even more so now Jai’s had his turn with it. Dust floats in the air around it and I can taste it in my throat.

“My sister can handle herself. She’s stronger than any boy her age. I made sure of that.”

He moves behind the bag to steady it, and with a flick of his head, he says, “Show me what you got.”

I don’t move. “You know I don’t have anything.”

“You have something, we just have to find out where your starting point is. Punch the bag.”

“Jai—”

“I’m not asking you again, Kitten. Punch the damn bag.”

Clenching my teeth, I cock my arm back and punch the bag. A small pain tugs at my tendon and I pull my hand back as it spreads to my elbow. Cradling my wrist, I look at Jai. He’s less than impressed with me, for some reason. Punching is a lot harder than it looks.

“Well…” he utters, letting go of the bag and scratching his head. “That was pathetic.”

I scoff at him. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Jai plants his hands on his hips and narrows his eyes at me. “Out of ten, I was expecting you to at least be a three or a four in strength.”

“Okay.” I shrug. “So I’m a two, no big deal.”

He shakes his head and chokes on a genuine laugh. “No, baby, you’re a one—even that’s pushing it.”

“Baby?”

He steps around the bag and towards me, ignoring the last word that fell from my mouth. “You need to work on your stance. That’ll increase your power.”

I sag, letting my spine take the bulk of my upper body weight as Jai takes my hands in his. He moves my left hand.

“Your left hand should be five inches in front of your left shoulder.”

His fingers smooth over my wrists and into my palm. They touch softly, but with purpose as he curls my hand into a fist. “Your knuckles need to be parallel to the ceiling.”

As I watch his hands expertly glide over each of my knuckles, I can feel his stare on my face and my breathing steadily becomes labored as a result. I’d peer up at him if I weren’t so mesmerized by his thick, calloused fingers as they work so beautifully over my skin. A moment later, Jai moves to my right hand and I keep my left one where he shaped it.

“Your right hand should be by your right ear, not too close, and your right elbow glued to your ribs.”

My stomach clenches as he runs the tip of his finger along one of my ribs. Maybe I’m going to like this training thing after all.

“That’s it?” I ask, when he steps around me.

“Not quite.” His light tone excites me and hot air warms the back of my thighs.

Unashamedly, it lights me up like the Forth of July as his fingers return to my skin with a vengeance, sending fireworks shooting up my legs and exploding right between my thighs.

“Your feet should be planted shoulder-width apart and your weight needs to be isolated on the balls of your feet.”

“Why can’t I stand normally?”

He exhales and the air caresses my skin. “Because the balls of your feet are the first on and off the ground. On the balls of your feet, you have two points of power.”

I frown, confused. “And what does that mean?”

“Can I explain it to you when we have more time? For now, just listen.” He plants his hands on the back of my knees. The fabric tickles my soft skin and I can’t help the giggle that seeps from my lips.

“Your knees need to be bent. This’ll keep your hips down and help you when you throw a punch.”

I have no idea what that means exactly, but it doesn’t matter too much when I feel his large hands grip my hips. I have a flashback of yesterday, when he gripped my hips and drove into me. That’s all it takes for an unbearable heat to spread up my neck and into my face. I swallow hard. If he doesn’t take his hands off me soon, I’m going to overheat.

“Your right hip should be back, with the left hip pointed toward your opponent.” He speaks right into my ear, making my posture slacken.

Jai tightens his grip, putting a sexy amount of pressure onto a dimple in my lower back. Instead of completely turning to jelly on the floor, I tighten my core and straighten my spine. I want to impress him, to make him happy by listening to him. For once.

I feel him smile against my ear. “When you turn into the punch, your hips shouldn’t make a full rotation. You’ll lose power that way.”

Loosening his grip, he rocks my hips, flicking them slightly, but powerfully all at the same time. From my hips, his fingers spread onto my stomach, making me clench and gasp.

“Relax a little. The more you tighten up, the more you restrict the connection between your arms and legs. You need your movement to be fluid, but strong. Understand?”

I nod.

“I know you’re nervous about your fight, Kitten, but it’ll be fine. Hit this bag until you’re comfortable with the movement. If you’re balanced and relaxed the basics will take over. It doesn’t take a lot of muscle or power to knock someone out. You can do it.”

He moves away from me and I shuffle closer to the bag with new-found determination. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as I’d first thought.

“Like this?” I ask, waiting for his go ahead.

I shiver as he smooths two hard fingers down my spine, making me shudder. “Your spine was made to hold you up straight. I don’t ever want to see you slouching in a fight.”

I blow out a soft exhale. “Okay. No slouching. Got it.”

I swing at the bag and when my fist connects, the bag jolts backwards a little, much to my surprise.

“Good.” Jai praises from somewhere behind me. “Add a little bit more power to your punch and you’re good.”

I hit the bag over and over. By the sixth punch, my body is warm and my arms start to burn, but I feel lighter—faster. I pause for a brief second before peering over my shoulder. With his hands unwrapped, Jai pulls on a T-shirt and tightens the strings on his black pants. From the side pocket of his bag, he pulls another roll of money and stuffs it into his pocket. Eventually, his eyes meet mine.

“There’s someone I’ve got to see. Keep punching. Don’t stop until I get back.”

He bends low and slips into his sneakers before exiting without another word. He often disappears with money and I can’t help but wonder where he goes. A small portion of me wants to follow him, but the other portion knows it’s better to mind my own business. Whatever Jai’s into is not something I want to be involved in. His plan includes destroying Skull and I’m not entirely sure I want to be around to take the fall if he fails. Despite how strong Jai is, failing is still an option.

A scary, life threatening option.

Chapter Thirteen

Round One

I rub my sore knuckles before pressing the back of my hand to my mouth to stop myself from throwing up. For three days I’ve stressed myself to the point of physical sickness and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t fight, I’m not ready, but I don’t have a fucking choice. Although Jai’s happy with my progress, I’m not. My punches are still weak and they’re all I have to defend myself with. Jai is confident I’ll win, but I know better. My opponent is going to smell the diffidence on me and then she’s going to demolish me. In front of everyone. When that happens, Skull will see me as the fake I really am and Jai isn’t going to be able to do a damn thing to stop Skull from spilling what’s left of my blood.

Blood.

I hate the taste of it and yet, here I am, trying to convince myself to be locked in a cage with the possibility of drinking mouthfuls of it.

I contemplate staying in the room, but the lines of people who walk by on their way to witness Jai’s fight make it impossible. I have to be there if not to support him, then at the very least to watch him.

I push off my bed and join the mass of people filtering from the smaller tunnels and into the larger ones. As I enter the main area, I quickly slip away into the back of the room, and climb up on a big, pointless block of concrete so I can see over the heads of everyone else.

Then I see Jai.

In the cage.

All the warmth in my body moves south and I squeeze my thighs together as desire pools and pulses in hot waves. Wearing a pair of black gloves that don’t quite cover all of his hands, he flexes his fingers at his sides and every time they close and tighten, so does my core. Jai bounces on the balls of his feet and the cage recoils and shakes under his weight. Somehow, he manages to keep his balance, unbothered by the possibility of the chains snapping and sending him plummeting to his death. I’d be petrified, clinging for dear life to the rusty cage metal. As the chains grind against pipes and other pieces of steel, the smell of rust becomes distinct and in the spotlights, I see little specks of it float to the ground.

The crowd is up in arms once more, cheering for him to win, cheering for him to fail. Either way, my body absorbs each shout for him. Excitement heats my blood, enrages my nerves and causes little bubbles of sweat to emerge along the surface of my skin. Though the cheers would distract someone like me, Jai acts as if he can’t hear them—as if he were as deaf as he is strong. Occasionally, his gaze circles the large tunnel before locating me in the back corner. When our eyes lock, I see the very corner of his lips twitch, making my heart pound like nothing else. I let my stare roam his perfect physique. His shirtless torso is straight and tight, covered in rippling abs and beautiful depressions. I notice not one inch of his skin is marred by ink—strange given society’s obsession with tattoos. Jai strikes me as the kind of person who takes immaculate care of his body, always watching what goes in it and on it. It shows too. His physique is a masterpiece.

He crosses the cage and waits patiently as his opponent approaches the gate. His opponent is scary. Jai is tall, easily six-one, but this guy has him beat by a whole foot at least, and not only is he built high, but the width of his body is incredible too. He’s wide from his shoulders right down to his ankles. His bald head reflects light just as well as his glistening form and as he rolls his neck and cracks his fingers, his stare finally locks on Jai. I hold my breath as the two watch each other. If I were Jai I’d be petrified. If he does feel any kind of fear, he’s certainly not showing it. He’s ready to take on his opponent and I can tell by the way he flexes his fingers and holds his posture that he won’t hesitate to throw the first punch.

My attention flicks to the movement on the ledge above the cage. Seemingly bored, Skull leans on the dodgy railing, two bum boys behind him, as his eyes scan the crowd. My lips part as a shaky breath blows through. I’ll never get used to seeing Skull. The way the black ink around his eyes makes it look like he has no eyelids terrifies me and the gentle curves of the brain tattooed on top of his head is surreal. What made him want to do it to himself? What was happening when he decided to permanently scar his face? What thoughts went through his head? I wish I knew.

His mouth, and the tattooed teeth surrounding it, moves as he chews gum. He seizes up both fighters, his posture straightening when he sees Jai. I think I even see a smirk. Then, with a lazy nod, the fight begins.

Like I expected, Jai wastes no time in lashing out, swinging with brute force. The last few days, Jai has advised me against attacking first. He said I should gauge my opponent before attacking; learn their technique. It seems Jai’s taking a different approach. The brute takes a couple of quick steps back as Jai’s fists rain relentlessly down on him. The crowd murmurs in shock, sending a surge of tingles through me. The cage shudders, creaking louder with every hit. I see Jai’s core relax whenever he connects, giving him the ability to move quicker—more confidently. The brute might be bigger, but Jai is definitely more dangerous. As the large man brings his hands up to shield his face, Jai drops low and slams his knuckles into his ribs. Though monstrous, the brute has nothing on Jai.

He moves unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. There is stark beauty in the swift, controlled way he maneuvers his body and I become mesmerized in it—in him. The crowd cheers around me, but I hear nothing. All I see is him. Jai doesn’t hold back, not for a second, taking a more offensive approach. The brute he faces keeps to a tight circle near the center of the cage, moving back and forth only to defend, never to attack.

I chew the tips of my fingers, catching skin between my teeth as the scene changes. I watch in alarm as the round deteriorates by the second, the winner becoming obviously clear. Jai has turned rabid.

Veins in his arms are visible.

His clenched jaw, noticeable.

The loud growl that tears around the room, unavoidable.

Jai grabs the brute by the back of his neck and drives his face into the metal cage, over and over again. The rust cuts into his skin, scarring his face, but Jai doesn’t give a fuck. He roars again and I gasp right before he throws his opponent’s head down and drives his knee into his face.

Thump.

The sound of a kneecap smashing into a nose reverberates through me and my gut revolts at the level of ferocity being exhibited.

Thump. Thump.

I want to look away, but I can’t. Blood rolls down Jai’s leg and onto his bare feet, but the anger on his face doesn’t leave. Even as the brute’s body goes limp and collapses, Jai hits him. He doesn’t stop until two of Skull’s guys enter the cage and push him away before dragging the lifeless body off the canvas and away from the swinging death trap.

I watch Jai, shocked, and when our eyes meet, I don’t see embarrassment or sympathy. I see warning and darkness. I see Hell itself and it’s fucking terrifying. To my surprise, when I look at Jai’s opponent, leaning on the outside of the cage, he moves a hand to wipe the blood off his face. Relief rolls through me. I’d thought he was dead for sure. When Skull’s goons realize he’s alive, they leave him alone to wallow in his own self-pity. My heart bleeds and beats into my ribs for him. Like Jai said, most people leave here broke and broken, and this man definitely will.

The crowd begins to disperse, but I remain locked in my seat, unable to remember how to move my limbs. Jai has paralyzed me with this brutality and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Turned on? A little. Scared? A lot. What am I getting myself into exactly?

I peer up in time to see Jai being ushered in through a service door underneath Skull’s ledge. I gulp loudly, before shaking my head. I don’t have time to worry about Jai and what Skull wants with him. Later today, I’ll be in the cage.

Later today, I could be dead.

Chapter Fourteen

Expect the Unexpected

The wall in our little nook is dirty. Still, I rest my head against it, hoping to cool my burning forehead. Twelve minutes, they claim, until I enter the cage. A bout of nausea flashes through me at the thought. It has been three hours since I last saw Jai, panting and coated in someone else’s blood. It has been three hours since I saw Jai completely destroy a giant without getting hit once. As much as he terrified me, it’d be nice to have him here—to coach me before I go on. I need to hear how much confidence he has in me. That always makes me feel nice.

As the thought passes, the sound of shoes scuffing against the concrete forces me to open my eyes. I drag my stare up clean legs, black shorts, slim hips and a beautiful torso before it locks with blue eyes. They briefly catch my attention before a small black mark on his collarbone, no bigger than my thumb, takes precedence. It’s a tattoo. A new tattoo. I lean closer in an attempt to make out the swollen, black mark.

“A skull,” he says, his teeth clenching at the end. “They tattooed a fucking skull on me.”

My eyes lock with his. “What for?”

“So Skull can track fighters he’s interested in.”

I can tell by looking at Jai’s face that being tracked as a personal interest for Skull is not something he wants or needs. I wouldn’t either. The thought gives me the creeps.

“You were with him this whole time?”

He shakes his head. “I was with his entourage. Skull didn’t show.”

I swallow the concern I feel for Jai. Being marked by anyone isn’t a good sign, but I have other things to worry about. I lean back against the wall, but have no time to feel sorry for myself before Marcus, the man I met the day we entered the underground, pokes his head into our space.

“You’re up, Kitten.” He offers me a kind smile. “Good luck.”

I feel blood drain from my face as he disappears. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreading this whole time. I wonder who my opponent is and if she’ll be the same build as me. Knowing my luck, I’ll be pitched against Big Foot’s wife. She’ll have clubs for hands and tree trunks for legs.

“You scared?”

I’m as good as dead. “Is it that obvious?”

He doesn’t comment. Of course it’s obvious. He could probably smell it in the air. I can. It seeps out of my pores and clings to my skin. It turns my blood cold and makes my heart unsure. Jai described the feeling of the adrenaline that courses through your body before a fight a few days ago. He said it was something that builds up fight day and unleashes itself as the bell rings. I’m yet to feel any bout of adrenaline. All I feel are butterflies and wasps circling angrily in my stomach. I’m pretty sure all of my adrenaline now sticks to my clammy skin after being forced out through my pores by my nerves.

Jai strolls around the room, feeling damp, washed clothes and smelling dry ones. Eventually, he picks up a black tank top and pulls it on. “You’re going to do just fine.”

I turn towards him, and his full lips quirk into an adoring smirk as he watches me. Do I look that pathetic?

“You sound so certain.”

“I am.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m not like you, Jai. What you see outside of the cage is who I’ll be on the inside.”

He frowns. “What does that mean?”

I recall images of Jai in the cage. He wasn’t human. Every shred of humanity he had left him. He was an animal and I wasn’t the only one shocked by his display of brute force.

“Oh, come on. You saw what you did to that guy. You could have killed him.”

His irises darken and I contemplate dropping the topic. Then again, what kind of me would I be if I actually listened to my conscience? Ever?

“But I didn’t.”

“He was one knee away from a concussion, or worse, death.”

Jai scoffs and turns away, bored. “I kneed him in his philtrum over and over. Worst case scenario, he lost some teeth. Big deal.”

“You didn’t even give him a chance.”

I don’t know why I’m defending Jai’s opponent. I guess I feel as though I relate to him in a strange way. I can sympathize with his soreness, his loss, and the disappointment he’s most likely feeling.

Jai snaps toward me, bending his torso in half so his face is directly in line with mine. “Give him a chance? We’re not in fucking primary school, Kitten. Down here, it’s a matter of life and death. Every move you make has to be one that intimidates everyone else.”

He swipes at a stray lock of black hair that curls around my cheek, making me flinch.

“You can’t give chances. If you do, you’re dead. They don’t care about you or your feelings. If they want to cheap shot you when you’re not looking, they will. You need to start acting like you know what you’re doing or they’re going to start attacking you relentlessly.”

Satisfied, Jai straightens his posture and folds his large arms. “Speaking of which, do you know who your opponent is?”

I swallow hard and shake my head. Why is a question like that important in a conversation like this?

“You remember the friend you made in the shower the other day, don’t you?”

I flinch. Oh. My eyes widen and a smugness falls over Jai’s features.

“You’ll be happy to know she personally chose you to fight in the ring today. You’re naïve, Kitten, and they can smell it on you. The second you open your mouth, weakness spills out.”

A strange burning sensation seeps across the surface of my eyes and tears threaten to bubble from my ducts. He’s right, but I never claimed to fit in here. I never sought this place out. I was trapped—dragged in kicking and screaming. I’ve barely been here a week and he expects me to be some kind of hardened warrior, like him. It doesn’t work that way. I’m a normal human being. I work a normal job and live in a normal house. I didn’t train for this. I didn’t want to be a part of this. This ‘brotherhood’ might make me feel alive and wanted like never before, but that doesn’t mean it’s me. This place isn’t me. Jai reaches out for me and I try to turn away, but the tips of his fingers catch my chin.

“You have to promise me that no matter what happens in the cage, you will not back down. You will not give her the chance to hurt you.”

I sniffle. “And how do I stop her from hurting me?”

His blue eyes flare sympathetically and it’s so gut-wrenching that it hurts me.

“Trust me” is all he says before he swipes my lower lip with his thumb and exits the room.

***

Strangely, the concrete beneath my feet feels extra cold as I make my way towards the cage. The room is thick with body heat and I can almost taste the sweat of everyone watching. People I pass on the way grab at me but I ignore them, focusing only on the rusted cage hanging above a tunnel God knows how many feet or yards deep. Fear, or maybe it’s that elusive adrenaline Jai was talking about, shakes my body and bubbles in my blood. I hate this. I hate not knowing the outcome. The odds weigh heavily against me, but Jai seems confident I can pull it off.

The cage isn’t empty, like it was when Jai started. My opponent waits for me and watches me intently as I approach. Her beautiful body is covered in thin straps of black and tan fabric. A sexy look I could never pull off. I decided to wear leggings and a tank top. I figured the less amount of flesh exposed to the rusting metal, the better.

I reach out for the cage door. It swings minutely, increasingly when my opponent bounces on her feet. I grip the gate and place a bare foot on the step. My stomach rocks with the cage, causing a bout of nausea to roll through me. I swallow hard, hoping to stop the vomit from forcing its way up my throat before I power chuck all over the canvas floor. I push myself into the cage and my attention locks not on my opponent, but on the canvas under my feet. Big stains of brown blood taint the surface and there’s no telling how old it is. It could be from ten years ago. I sidestep onto a lighter stain, but it doesn’t make me feel any less queasy.

Finally, I force my attention on to my opponent. I’ve stopped thinking of her as a human being and more of an objective. She hiccups and swipes at her mouth before sneering at me. Her friendly smile I remember from the shower that day is gone, replaced by the urge to win. I eye her up, ignoring the group of people closest to the cage who laugh at me. I’ve tied my long, dark hair into a tight ponytail, but she lets her auburn waves curl freely around her shoulders. Framing her face, strands of her hair stick to her clammy skin, and that’s when I notice her complexion. It’s a pale white; almost green. She blinks lazily before swaying to the side. I inch forward and she jolts upright again, bringing her fists up to her face. I swallow and peer out of the cage. I spot Jai immediately, leaning against a decaying column, his leg bent at the knee and his arms folded tightly across his chest. He watches me intently, and it makes me nervous. I don’t want to take my eyes off him until his attention flicks to the ledge above the cage. Blood drains from my body, sending my heart slamming into my ribs over and over again with a cramping pain. I drag my stare away from Jai and onto the ledge. As I look up, my sight locks with Skull’s and he tips his head to the side, analyzing me. I look away as quickly as I can.

Shit.

He knows. He knows I don’t belong here; I can feel it.

I shake my hands at my sides and roll my neck on my shoulders. I do something—anything I remember seeing the other fighters do in the cage. It isn’t until my opponent lurches forward that I realize Skull’s given his nod.

I dive out of the way as her vicious growl tears through the air. Adrenaline—I feel it now—tears through my veins hot and fast, making everything around me, except my opponent, blur.

Before I have a chance to secure my footing, she launches again and this time, her hard body slams into mine, knocking us both to the ground. It hurts more than I expect it to, but it’s not what has me groaning. The thought of lying on the dirty canvas sends spiders skittering over my skin. My opponent straddles my hips and sits up. Her fingers thread through the top of my hair, despite how tight I tied it back, and she squeezes while cocking back her fist. I clench my jaw and brace my face, but she wavers. Her face turns a little sleepy and her chest heaves, as if she’s trying hard not to throw up. I contemplate waiting, to give her a second to find her stomach, but Jai’s voice tears through my mind. You can’t give chances. If you do, you’re dead. They don’t care about you or your feelings. If they want to cheap shot you when you’re not looking, they will.

Twisting my core, I swing my hand as hard and as best I can from this position. I squeeze my eyes shut a split second before impact, then a burning sensation warms the palm of my hand as it connects so perfectly with her face. Wasting no time, I flick my hips and shove her off me. She crashes to the canvas and I roll away from her before pushing myself to my feet. I watch her as I blow my hair out of my face. Her arms shake as she struggles to lift her own weight. There’s definitely something wrong with her. Maybe she’s sick? Drunk? Hungover? Whatever it is, she’s not in full health.

“Finish her,” a deep voice yells through the crowd, pulling me from my stupor.

I turn towards it and see Jai leaning over the edge of the railing. I frown at him. I should at least let her gather her footing. The poor woman can barely stand. He narrows his eyes as I shake my head.

“If it’s not her it’s you, Kitten. End this. Now!”

I glance between Jai and the woman. I’ve never been more confused in my life. I’m not selfish at heart, not really, so to hurt someone when they’re clearly not ready for it is something I’m not sure I can do. But, in saying that, this is an extremely unorthodox situation. Is it okay to abandon my morals in a situation that’s do or die? Probably not, but I don’t have a choice. There are a lot of people watching. Every move I make has to be one of intimidation. I’m the weakest link down here. I know it and Jai knows it. How long before everyone else figures it out? Irrational anger builds in my chest at the thought.

I surge forward the second the woman finally climbs to her feet. Her back is to me, but that’s her fault, not mine. A small growl tears itself from my throat as I clench my jaw and jump at her. I wrap my legs around her hips and my arms around her neck. Once again, we crash to the canvas and the whole things creaks. With weak hands she pries at my arms, but she’s only wasting what little energy she has left. Without thought, I hit her in the face with a closed fist, over and over while holding her squirming body against me. She can’t fight me off and the feeling is...well, it’s empowering. I clench my teeth and strike her harder. She tries to protect her face, but my hands are moving too fast for her to slip any kind of defense under them. I hit her repeatedly until the muscles in my arm start to burn. As I pull my hand up one last time, I see red glisten across my skin and I stop. I’ve hurt her. I’ve made her bleed.

I release her and push her body away. She rolls onto her stomach, coating the canvas in fresh blood. It’s not a lot—not compared to Jai’s opponent, by any means—but I still forced it from her body. Shielding her face and whimpering, she shakes her head and flashes me the palm of her hand. It’s a gesture of surrender...and it makes me feel like shit.

My mind unblocks itself and the roar of the crowd explodes in my eardrums. I won. She surrendered and I won.

I like winning. I’ve always been the competitive type, but this feels different. I’m almost ashamed of myself.

I turn from the woman and head towards the gate that’s now open. I have to do something to take my mind off this fight. I don’t want congratulations. I want to lie down or throw up or drink until I pass out.

I saunter from the cage, my hands shaking like never before. They burn hot, as if I’ve toasted them over a warm fire. I don’t know what happened...I don’t know how I could’ve possibly won a fight. The woman, she seemed a little off, but still dangerous. Following Jai’s advice, I’d had to be brutal. I couldn’t give her the chance to hurt me.

I brush my hair out of my face and peer over my shoulder. The Russian woman, the one who so sweetly offered me her shampoo and body wash not so long ago, lies in a crumpled heap with a bloodied nose and mouth, blinking at the ceiling. My stomach revolts at the sight. I didn’t like hitting her, not one little bit, but it had to be done. Still, the ten thousand dollars doesn’t seem worth it now and I can’t help the nagging thought in the back of my mind that tells me I should find a way out before round two. I can’t go through that again.

“Ugh,” I grunt as I slam into a hard body.

The distinct smell of expensive cologne and cigars flood in through my nostrils. I recover quickly and stare at the widespread chest in front of me. Slowly, I suck in a breath as I drag my sights on to his face. His thick, slightly scarred lips pull into a wide smile, stretching the small white lines and it is not, by any means, a comforting grin.

“Skull wants to see you,” he says.

My heart stops cold. His voice is baritone and rough. It sends shivers skittering down my spine, and not in a good way. Why would they? I mean, look at him. He has roughly chopped black hair that frames his hardened face. His skin looks thick and coarse enough to rival a rhino’s, and he’s dressed in the most ridiculous attire for a dense, humid place like this. He’s wearing a black button-up shirt, rolled at the elbows, that exposes his Hulk-like arms, as well as a black pair of slacks and some cream snakeskin shoes. On his chest, a small gold cross lies against the fabric. He’s definitely part of a gang. One that likes to blend in with high society. If the outfit isn’t a dead giveaway, the large skull tattooed on the side of his neck is.

Questions run through my brain, one after the other, but none I want to entertain at the present time.

“Can I ask what for?”

He snatches my bicep in his freakishly large hands and squeezes until I wince. Instinctively, I jolt towards him.

“You can ask, Princess, but I ain’t gonna tell you.”

He yanks me forward and I desperately peer over my shoulder for Jai. The crowd is moving erratically and I can’t see him. I’m pulled and pushed, pinched and squeezed right up until we reach the service door I saw Jai go through earlier. He was gone for hours only to return with a ‘tattoo of interest’. I doubt I have something Skull is interested in. My fight wasn’t brutal, not compared to Jai’s, anyway, and the woman I’d fought was hardly in the right state of mind. Anyone could see that.

I hold my breath as he pulls me through the door behind him. The only thought in my brain is a single four-lettered word. It begins with F and ends with K.

Skull’s man holds me by the bicep and forces me to stand by a yellow service light underneath a concrete set of stairs that curl down to the right of the room. His grip is tight and threatening, so I don’t dare to move.

The room in front of me is a nice little set-up. To the left, there’s a small table surrounded by seven wooden chairs of varying quality. On the surface, poker chips and cards are scattered around the base of empty beer bottles. Across the medium-sized room sits a used, stripy sofa with cushions that look two decades old, covered in velvet and all kinds of stains. Neither of those are the reason for the jackhammers hammering away at my stomach lining. What worries me the most, is the tattoo chair that sits conspicuously in the middle of the room.

I swallow hard.

Shit.

Chapter Fifteen

Indications

“Unhand the girl, will you?”

I hear Skull’s voice before I see him.

The goon releases me the second I see Skull’s whiter-than-white sneakers step onto the dark, dirty concrete floor in front of me. I pull my stare from his shoes, up his black slacks and onto his white, formal shirt. For the occasion he’s extremely overdressed, but whatever statement he’s trying to make with his immaculate attire and gold cufflinks has been made. Skull has money. He has places he needs to be. He wants me to feel honored by his presence and I have to be if I’m going to get out of here without spilling my secret.

I eye his tie and the little diamond knife pin he’s centered in the middle of it. He looks elegant, yet dangerous. I assume, for whoever he’s seeing after this, he’s left little hints of just how dangerous he really is—like the skull tattooed over the face he was originally born with isn’t enough to scare you into making deals with him.

He’s wider close up, and taller. His tattoo makes my skin crawl and I’m having a hard time trying to decide if it’s in a bad creepy way or a good creepy way—if that makes any sense at all. I watch him closely as he saunters over to the tattoo chair and sits on the stool beside it.

“Am I in some kind of trouble?” I ask, eyeing the door beside me.

The man that pulled me into the room blocks it, foiling any getaway I might try to make. Anxiety awakens in my chest and prepares to wreak havoc. It begins by kicking up the tempo of my heart and restricting my lungs from expanding to full capacity.

“No, no trouble.” Skull taps his long, tattooed fingers against the larger chair. “I just want to chat.”

I contemplate suggesting we sit at the table, but then I see the gun sticking out of the back of Skull’s pants and remember he isn’t the kind of person open to suggestions. Forcing one shaky leg in front of the other, I walk as confidently as I can over to the tattooing chair, and I inhale and subtly let my breath out before sliding into it. Pursing my lips, I have to remind myself over and over that everyone down here knows who Skull is and what he’s looking for. I need to be like them. I need to treat Skull like I would any employer. I need to pretend his life is something I want to be involved in.

“I’m honored you’d want an audience with me,” I lie, flattening my sweaty palms against my leggings.

I don’t look at him when I speak. I can’t bring myself to see his tattoo so close. I feel him watching me for a little while before he decides to respond.

“Are you scared?” he asks, amusement lacing his tone.

I finally manage to gather the courage to look at him straight in his face. As my gaze locks onto the dark, tattooed circles around his eyes, I fight the urge to gasp or shriek. Imagine a skull being the last face you saw before dying. You’d be traumatized for the rest of eternity. Brain-dead or not, it’s not something you’d forget. What’s even more terrifying than the skull face is the throat he’s had tattooed on, too. If I ever want to see what the inside of a human throat looks like, I’ll never have to Google it.

“Of you?” I force a smile I’m sure he can see right through. “Absolutely.”

Skull chucks his head back and laughs. Fuck me. It’s actually genuine.

“I like you. You’re not stupid,” he says, letting his smile linger. “Now take off your shirt.”

I freeze before shooting a quick glance in the direction of the door. The goon pretends not to listen to our conversation, but I bet when I take off my shirt he’ll suddenly be interested in what we have to say.

“Excuse me?”

Skull reaches around the back of my chair and pulls a small table in his direction. On the table sits a stainless steel tattoo gun and a few other random bits and pieces. He reaches for the gun and adjusts something with his foot while I splutter, hopelessly.

“Take off your shirt,” he drawls. “I need your collarbone.”

“C...can I ask what for?”

Skull tips his head to the side, his black eyes glistening. “Normally, I’d tell you to shut the fuck up right before I have my friend over there rip your shirt from your body, but you’ve caught me in a good mood.” He leans closer. “I’ll answer your question, Emily, but this is the only time you’re ever allowed to question me when I ask you to do something. Understood?”

I nod compliantly, too dazed to comprehend what he said after my name fell from his lips.

“I like to mark those I’m interested in, and so far, you and your boyfriend interest me.”

“Why—”

He snaps forward, grabbing my lips between his fingers and squeezing them shut before ‘tsking’ at me like I’m a misbehaving dog.

“You have such a beautiful mouth. I’d hate to have to tear it from your face.” All signs of friendly humor and amusement fall from his face. “Take off the fucking shirt.”

He doesn’t have to ask me again. I grip the hem of my tank top and pull it off over my head. When I took my shirt off in front of Jai for the first time, I was embarrassed of my cotton bra, but here, I’m thankful for it. I’ll take any extra layer of clothing, no matter the fabric, if it prevents Skull’s soulless stare from kissing my skin.

Skull inches closer, the gun poised in his hand like a pen. Goosebumps prickle to the surface of my skin and the jackhammers in my tummy have broken through my stomach lining and are going to work on every other organ in that vicinity.

“I...I’ve never been tattooed before,” I say.

He grins wickedly and the gun buzzes to life. “I’m honored to be your first.”

The needle touches my skin. I inhale and flinch sharply. Skull grips my bicep in his hand, forcing me to stay put when all I want to do is fucking run. It’s cutting into my skin and burning like nothing else.

“The pain will fade once you get used to it.” He laughs over the buzzing of the machine.

It’s a lie, of course. The burning doesn’t fade, even after he’s finished. The entire time, I bit my lip and held back tears. I don’t know how he did it. Each pore filled with black ink on his body represents pain. A pain I never want to go through again.

When he’s finished, he applies a small amount of cream and tells me to put my shirt back on. Going off movies I’ve seen, I know I’m supposed to have my tattoo covered, but he doesn’t offer me anything and I worry about infection. I expect him to leave when he’s finished; instead he kicks the small table away and leans his elbows on his knees.

“Tell me about Jai Stone,” he says, randomly.

The mention of Jai and what I know sets me on high alert. I’ve never been tight lipped. I mean, I’ve never had a secret I’ve had to keep, but if he brings out that tattoo gun again, Jai might be in trouble.

“He has a sister,” I tell him, playing dumb. “A brother too.”

Skull seems less than impressed and his bored expression worries me. When men like him get bored, shit starts to happen. When shit starts to happen, people die.

“I don’t need a recap of his family tree. I fucking know it off by heart.”

Realization flickers over his face and the frustration turns to cunning happiness in barely a second. It’s unsettling to see.

“Speaking of which, you seem to lack a family tree. I bet that bothers you.”

I grit my teeth and he smirks when he sees it. He’s fishing.

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” I say, proud of my confidence. “I haven’t needed one yet.”

Skull surveys me, his eyes thinning into thoughtful slits.

“I could give you your family tree,” he states, resting his chin on his hand. “Tell you who Mommy and Daddy are.”

There it is. The one thing I’ve been thinking about since Jai told me Skull would know. Problem is, what does he want in return for the information? What information do I have anyway? Yes, we’ve had sex, but in retrospect, I barely know Jai.

“If you want information on Jai, I can’t help you. I’ve only just met him myself.”

Skull quirks a brow—or at least that’s what it would be if it were noticeable over the ink. “My man Steve tells me you two showed up together.”

Oh shit. I’ve fucked up the story. He’s going to see right through it. I keep my face calm, but there’s no stopping the heat from seeping into my cheeks. “We met minutes before coming underground. He’s still practically a stranger.”

Unsatisfied with my response, Skull runs his hands over his bald head and exhales, heavily.

“Since you have no ties to Jai besides being his fuck buddy, I have a job for you.”

I scowl at him. “I don’t work for you.”

Skull zips forward, closing the distance between us. I try to recoil, but get nowhere as he presses his chest against mine and our lips almost graze. My heart is in my throat, beating my esophagus to a pulp. I have to remember to keep my mouth shut. Smile and nod. How fucking hard is that to learn? Skull presses his finger to the tattoo on my collarbone, making me wince and hiss.

“You’re my Kitten now.”

I flinch at the mention of Jai’s pet name for me. I didn’t think it could sound any worse than it did already, but hearing it fall from Skull’s mouth did it.

“You’ll do as I say. If Jai does anything out of the ordinary, you tell me. If he so much as eats, showers or sleeps in a strange way you fucking tell me! Got it?”

I nod, fast. I’ll do just about anything to get out of this room, even if it means agreeing to betray a friend. I close my eyes as he strokes my cheek. His fingers are warm and sweaty and the feeling they leave in their wake isn’t something that sits well on the stomach.

“Good Kitty.” Dragging a quick finger across my lower lip, he pushes away from me. “I have an important dinner to get to. Congratulations on your fight. Hitting someone while they’re down is a special kind of heartlessness that’ll do well in my business. I look forward to your next one.”

He grins wickedly before reaching around to his back pocket and dropping a heavy roll of money onto my lap. I don’t take my eyes off him as he clicks at his goon by the door. Without a glance in my direction, they both head up the stairs and I’m alone in the room. I guess I’m supposed to see myself out. I slip off the tattoo chair and onto shaky legs. They still tremble as an aftermath of the fight. So do my hands, but inside me, there’s a different kind of movement. I’m not sure what it is...guilt, maybe. Skull is going to make me betray Jai and I don’t think I can. If I don’t, Skull will most likely kill me—he seems like that kind of guy. If I do, Skull will kill Jai and then me. Either way, this whole thing isn’t going to end well.

I force my tired body over to the door. With heavy eyelids, I open it and saunter out into the tunnels. Most of the crowd has dispersed, but the few that remain dance and chat and party like this is the best place to be. I wanted excitement too, once. After a day or two, I thought this was the best place to get it. Then I got in too deep and I couldn’t find my footing to get back out.

Now I know why the unknown is dangerous.

I scan ahead, searching the spattering of people for Jai. In the midst of all this crazy, he’s the only thing that has made me feel safe.

He steps out from behind a group of people and I freeze on the spot. Can he tell Skull wants me to betray him? Do I look different? More importantly, do I tell him? My legs feel weak. My hands still tremble and I do nothing but stare at him as he watches me. Briefly, his eyes flick to the ledge above the cage and his brows draw closer. I don’t have to look to know Skull is watching, and it’s enough to force my legs back into action. I move towards Jai, every step making me feel weaker and weaker. A foot away, Jai opens his arms and I dive into them, throwing my hands around his neck. My chest is heavy. I want to cry, throw up and scream all at once. Jai’s manly scent flows in through my nostrils and I breathe in the familiarity of it. Then his cheekbones brush against mine.

“You okay?”

If I open my mouth I think I’m going to cry, so I just shake my head instead. Not wanting Skull to see me like this, I pull back and straighten my shirt. Jai analyzes my face and I can see it in his eyes. He knows I don’t want to talk about it. So, to save face, he beams widely at me and claps me on the shoulder before tucking me under his arm and pulling me in the direction of our little nook.

Chapter Sixteen

Confession

We step into our space, and immediately, I shrug out from underneath Jai’s arm and sit on my bed. Jai lowers himself onto his own cot and our knees graze, but he doesn’t say anything. He sits and waits patiently, like he has all the time in the world. I see it on his face, though. He’s dying to know what went on behind that door, but I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about Skull and what he wants from me. He called me Kitten and on my collarbone, he gave me a skull tattoo. He wants me to report anything Jai does that I find out of the ordinary. Everything, all of it—it’s too much pressure, and I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

“You did well,” Jai says after a few quiet minutes.

I look at him, surprised he wants to start with my fight, and not with Skull.

He sits with his elbows on his knees, his fingers nervously fiddling with each other. His dark blue eyes reflect the sympathy he feels deep down and it even manages to manifest on his lips too. For some reason, I feel better knowing we’re both unhappy. Sure, we won our first round of fights, but this is only the beginning and I can’t shake the feeling our real fights haven’t started yet.

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. She wasn’t feeling one hundred percent...my win was a freak accident.”

“It takes a lot to—”

“Kick someone when they’re down?” I cut in. “Yeah. So I’ve been told.”

I tug at my hair band and let my hair fall around my face like a messy curtain. It sticks to the sweat on the back of my neck and I hate it, but I don’t have the energy to do anything about it.

“I don’t know what was wrong with her...maybe she drank too much last night, or maybe she ate some bad food.”

“Maybe.”

I frown, unsure of the tone he’s used. For someone who cares if I win or lose, he certainly isn’t counting what happened this morning as a miracle. My first opponent falls ill the day we’re meant to fight and not once has he called me ‘lucky’. It doesn’t sit right with me.

“You’re not shocked?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

“What do you want me to say? She got sick. Shit happens.”

No. I’m not buying it. “You know something, don’t you?”

He opens his mouth and I gasp, fitting all of the pieces together. I feel sick...I feel...I don’t know how I feel. My brain is unable to comprehend the act I’m about to accuse Jai of.

“You did something, didn’t you?”

Jai leans back on his hands, completely unfazed by my accusation. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

I push off my bed and my organs finally decide to implode from all of the stress. I rake my fingers through my hair as tears gush from my eyes and I sob. I sob so fucking hard. I can’t handle this. I can’t live this life—the fighting, the cheating, the killing—it’s too much.

“That poor woman,” I cry, pulling at my hair as I pace the small area. “I cheated her. I cheated her out of her money, out of her spot here.”

Jai rises to his feet. “You didn’t cheat her out of anything. You played the game and you won.”

I snap my head in his direction and point a sharp finger. “You played the game for me! I never would’ve hurt someone for my own personal gain. Not ever!”

His jaw tightens and his blue eyes flare. “That’s why I did it for you. I knew your conscience couldn’t handle it. There are things we need to do here, Kitten, and I need your help.” His attention flicks to my tattoo before coming back to my face. “You’re in with Skull now. You’re in the perfect position to help me.”

I shake my head, sniffling, and trying to slow down the tears. “I don’t give a shit about Skull or your plan.”

I stuff my hand into my back pocket and pull out the dense roll of cash Skull gave me for winning my fight. I’ve never had money I didn’t want before. Or at least, I didn’t until now. It feels too heavy in my hands. It doesn’t feel like it should. As I look at it, the tears stop.

“How’d you do it?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the money. “How’d you incapacitate the woman?”

“I told you. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers—”

“How?” I demand, squeezing the cash in my hand.

“I bought some Tramadol off Marcus and I crushed it up and poured it into her water.”

Tramadol. All of the stuff I learned on the narcotic springs to mine. It’s a narcotic-like pain reliever used to treat moderate to severe pain. It’s used for around the clock treatment, not ‘as needed’.

“Do you know how strong Tramadol is?” I ask, curious.

I mean, it’s not hardcore like morphine, but it’s a hell of a lot stronger than Tylenol.

Jai shakes his head. “You’re the nurse, not me.”

“They specifically ask you not to crush, break, or open an extended-release pill to avoid exposure to a potentially fatal dose.” I rub my forehead. “You don’t know her medical history. There’s a long list of things that need to be ticked off before a doctor even prescribes it to a patient. It’s dangerous.”

From what I can recall, weak or shallow breathing, fever, fast heart rate, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, loss of coordination and a few other symptoms are all warnings of an overdose. In the cage, her body wasn’t handling it well.

“She could be dead,” I announce, my eyes widening.

“She’s a little beat up, but that’s the extent of it. I watched her leave. She’s otherwise okay, Emily.”

But that’s not the point, is it? It’s the principle. Both Skull and Jai are using me to further their plans. Both of them do things without my permission—without my knowledge. It’s not okay. I step forward and shove my money at Jai’s large chest. He looks down at it, but refuses to take it from me.

“I told you I don’t want the money.”

Our eyes lock.

“You think I do?” I nudge him with it. “Either you take it or I throw it over the ledge.”

Reluctantly, he takes the money and I turn away from him.

“Where are you going?” he calls after me, but I ignore him.

If I’m going to survive here, I’ll do it on my own terms.

I’ll find my own room.

I’ll train myself.

I’ll avoid Skull and Jai at all costs.

Both of them are twisted and both of them are master manipulators. Neither can be trusted. I am the only person I can trust. I want excitement and I want to experience the unknown, but not at the cost Jai and Skull are asking for.

I don’t know much, but there’s one thing I know for certain. Win or lose, I’m getting out of here when I’m finished with round two.

Bonus!

Get Instant Access to A "Secret" Bonus Chapter From Blood & Rust by Skyla Madi Now!

Click HERE.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SKYLA MADI is an Australian writer from Brisbane, Queensland.

Skyla started her writing career fresh out of high school and at 21 she is a giver of both real and fictional life.

She is an aquarian, lover of the written word and author of the #1 BESTSELLING Consumed trilogy.

Contact the Author

Skyla LOVES to hear from readers! Here are some of ways to get intocontact with her:

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/SkylaMadi

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Skyla_Madi

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6554179.Skyla_Madi

Forever With You

Misfit Tattoo: Book One

By Jennifer LaBelle

“It takes a great deal of courage to see the world in all its tainted glory and still to love it.”

~Oscar Wilde~

Chapter One

~A misfit refers to a person who doesn’t quite fit into the social classes of today. They’re a strong-minded bunch of introverts who have few friends and tend to be misunderstood.~

Toby

Change sucked balls. He knew that first hand, and he had no choice in the matter. His life was a mess of old scars, distractions, and work. His old shop, Blank Canvas, was now Misfit Tattoo, thanks to that fucking fire that destroyed his life and his love. The one night that was supposed to be one of the happiest in his life was now nothing but a nightmare he’d never, ever forget. God only knew he’d tried time and time again. If only he could go back, get a do-over.

Toby James stood outside in the empty car lot beside the new and improved version of the shop he owned and ran his fingers through his hair as the memories came crashing back to him once more.

Eighteen months earlier…

As soon as she entered the shop, Toby began to serenade her with Christmas songs. He was in such a good mood and couldn’t wait to get their night started.

“Okay, okay, just please stop.” Carley giggled. “And please, for the love of God, don’t quit your day job.”

His beautiful girlfriend had shown up at Blank Canvas afterhours as he’d instructed her to do to finally get the piercings she kept talking about but never had the guts to go through with.

Tonight, she’d be leaving with two brand new nipple piercings to go along with her nose ring and eyebrow ring.

Most importantly, she was also there to receive the surprise he refused to give her any hint about, and if all went according to plan, it’d be fucking epic.

She approached the back door and knocked, only to be pulled in right away and twirled around in his embrace, as he sang to her. It was the type of pussy romance shit he teased the guys about all the time, but he couldn’t care less. She was his world.

“Come on, Carley, where’s your spirit?” Toby asked.

“You’re adorable.” She smiled.

“Uh-huh. Before the night is through, we’ll have five golden rings on you. Are you ready?”

“As much as I’ll ever be, and I’m pretty sure you meant to say four.”

“I know what I said.” Toby stood back, slipped his hands from around her waist, and held her hand as he led the way to the front of the store. The curtains were drawn, the closed sign was flipped on the door, and it smelled a little like antiseptic. His home sweet home, away from home.

He led her to her very own chair and stepped between her legs as she sat. Cupping the sides of her face tenderly, he bent over to capture her mouth against his. His soft, plump lips coaxed Carley’s own to open. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and sucked on it before his tongue sought entry, and it made her moan and squirm for him.

Her hands slid up his chest to the nape of his neck, her fingers slid through his soft, silky hair, and she tilted her head to the side even more to enjoy the wet, silky warmth of his tongue as it moved against her own. His cock swelled and pressed up against her chest, rock hard and aching, and his hips instinctively moved, allowing her to feel how she affected him. Toby moaned; he couldn’t get enough of her. This chick did things to him that no other could or ever would. They clicked. Two kindred spirits joined, but there was a job to do. He pulled back from the kiss, pressed his forehead against hers, and groaned. “As much as I want to continue—” He rubbed his lower half against her again. “We should get these piercings done before it gets too late. I’ve got plans for the two of us. Rain check on the make-out session?”

“That depends. Do these plans include continuing what you just started?” She pouted. “I’m aching over here.” Her hands left him to trail along her chest. She cupped each breast and trailed one of her hands lower again. Teasing him, she spread her legs while he stood there captivated and drooling and rubbed herself in between them.

“Fuck! Take off your shirt.” Toby growled, “Bra too, babe.” He turned away from her momentarily to set up and calm himself down. There was a time and place for everything, and as much as he’d like to slide into that warm tight pussy right then and there, he had a couple of piercings to do and some things to get off his chest first. Then he’d be glad to give her anything she desired. He loved tasting her, exploring her body, and fucking her. Hell, if all went according to plan, he’d be able to do so for a lifetime.

“Yes, sir!” He smirked when she saluted him.

They’d met three years earlier in the very same spot she was in right then. Only she’d come in to get her very first tattoo at the time. She’d been too chicken shit to get anything large and opted for a small, blue butterfly on her left shoulder. There was an instant attraction, and she was so easy to be around that when he asked her out, her answer was an instant yes, and the rest was history.

“Now what?” Carley bit her lip, and he could instantly tell she was nervous about the procedure.

“Now it’s showtime.” Toby slowly applied an alcohol swab against each nipple and smiled when they hardened for him. Next, he grabbed a marker to mark the spot where the hole was going to go so the entry and exit holes aligned properly at the base of the nipple.

“Um, what the heck is that?” She stiffened as he reached over to grab the tool he was about to pierce her with. It sort of resembled a clamp.

“Relax, baby. It’s just a device we use to hold the tissue firmly together. We’ve got to line up the two dots I just marked on you as closely together as possible. It should only be another minute, and we’ll move on to the next one.” He winked. “You good?”

She nodded and continued to bite her lip while eyeing the needle closely.

Before she knew it, the clamp was being removed, the needle went through, the loop was in, and her eyes shot wide. She hissed when it went through. There was a slight discomfort, but she took it like a champ. What took mere seconds felt like minutes, and he started on the second one.

“It stung for a minute, but these are actually quite nice.” She took a few minutes to compose herself when both breasts were done and then stood in front of the floor-length mirror to have a look at her new body bling.

Toby watched her admire his work, stepped up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her midsection. “They’re looking hot, babe. Then again, your tits were always pretty spectacular.”

She leaned back and giggled as he dipped his head down to press his lips at the side of her neck before slowly moving them back up against her earlobe to whisper, “They’ll be sore for a few days, but after that, I can’t wait to show you how good they’ll feel. I love that you came to me for this.” He sucked her lobe inside of his mouth and looked up again to admire her. “Make sure your hands are clean when you handle the piercings and apply a good amount of soap on your nipples and on the jewelry, washing them off with warm water a few times a day to keep the area clean.”

“Will do.” She smiled and finally turned into his arms to face him directly. “Now, I believe you were saying you had plans for the two of us tonight. Please tell me we don’t have to go far because, sore or not, I still want to continue what we started earlier, and I want to keep my shirt off for a while.”

“Now that I can oblige.” He laughed. “Follow me.” Toby led her into his office.

It was show time.

He walked ahead to his desk, took a deep breath, and pulled the ring out of the top drawer. This was it, the official start to their forever. He walked back around the desk to a speechless Carley and lowered himself on bended knee before her. The room was dimly lit by candles he had sparked just before she arrived, and it was about as romantic as it was going to get, simple but sweet. He gulped nervously, and she surprised him by singing out, “Five golden ri—inngs,” with a smile. It made the moment that much more perfect, that much more memorable.

He got up to stand in front of her instead because fuck tradition and lightly touched each ring, starting with her eyebrow, her nose, and then lightly caressing each nipple piercing. He then held up the last one reserved for her finger. “Carley, I love you, baby. Will you please marry me?”

“Yes,” she cried as she jumped into his arms with delight. “I love you so much.”

“Me, too. Merry Christmas, honey,” Toby whispered, and he slipped the ring on her finger.

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her over to his very comfortable sofa and fulfilled his earlier promise to show her how much she was loved by making love.

The images burned into his mind like an instant replay. Every pleasure-filled moment now etched into one painful memory, because what was supposed to be the beginning of a happy life with the one person who made him feel whole turned out to be the end of it all.

His perfect fucking night became an introduction to his own personal hell. It made him wonder why he had to light those stupid candles instead of keeping the lights on? And why was he batshit enough to fall asleep before making sure they were all blown out first? But, most of all, why had he survived, and she hadn’t?

A little while later, sweat poured down his brow, his breathing was laboured, and he woke up disoriented, naked, and weak.

Tired, so fucking tired.

Toby’s eyes opened and closed a few times before he got his second wind. The sweet smell of Carley was gone and was replaced by the stench of something burning. Hot, why was it so hot in here? Orange lights flickered back and forth between a thick, black shield of—Holy shit! Was that smoke?

“Carley?” he croaked and coughed. “Carley, honey, wake up.”

There was no response, so he nudged her. “Baby, we’ve got to get out of here.” He shifted upright to try and get her moving, but all it did was force her to roll onto the floor. His beautiful angel wasn’t moving, and he could feel himself being pulled under the moment he finished retching up a lung, but he refused to give up. All that mattered was getting the two of them out of there, like, five minutes ago. What felt like an eternity was probably mere seconds, a minute tops, when he rolled himself off the couch and onto the ground. He managed to stay low as he dragged the two of them out of his scorching office and into a slightly cooler area of the shop before it all went black again.

Toby squeezed his eyes shut and shivered as he thought about it, because the next time he woke up that night, cool air hit his face. He was able to breathe a little better thanks to the oxygen mask strapped to his face. But Carley was gone. Just like that, taken away in death.

Sirens flared in the background as they rushed him to the emergency room, and to this day, his stomach dropped every time he heard the noise of an ambulance drive by. Her loss was worse than the burns he’d endured trying to save them, and the scars, both physical and emotional, were a constant reminder that love was for suckers, and the hurt just wasn’t worth the risk a second time around.

Love, commitment, and happily ever afters? Fuck that shit!

He was no fool. Only the good die young, and, well, he’d made damn sure Heaven was going to wait a long time for him ever since. Between the booze, the line-up of women to keep his bed warm, and getting his new shop up and running, he kept busy and, better yet, distracted.

Chapter Two

Toby

“Hey, man. Are you okay?” Carson, one of his best artists, and an even greater friend, asked as he approached, bringing Toby back to the present.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just need to unwind, I think.” He ran his fingers through his hair again and took a deep breath. “It’s good to see business is booming already, huh?” He needed a subject change to steer clear of this emotional shit going on inside of him, and there was no better subject than Misfit to break the ice.

The tattoo parlor’s grand re-opening was three months ago, and they’d been booked solid ever since. The new place outshone the old one, and his heart hurt because he still wished Carley was there to share in the success with him.

Fuck! Pull it together, man!

“Damn right. The world-wide attention doesn’t hurt, either.” Carson snorted.

Before the fire, Blank Canvas had hit the big-time, and so had Toby and his team, thanks to Minnesota Ink and Metal, an up-and-coming TV show about alternative lifestyles. Reality TV was at an all-time high, and he figured, why not milk that shit while he could? It was all thanks to his cousin. Ash was the lead singer of the popular rock band Love the Sinner, and he only went to them for ink whenever he got the itch for more art. Word spread after one MTV interview where the host had mentioned wanting body art of his own, and good ol’ cousin Ash had put them up on the map by endorsing them to the world. It wasn’t long after that the show began.

His life shifted quickly in a different direction. After Blank Canvas burned to the ground, he’d made some big changes: a new shop, a new name, and a new him. He’d crawled out from the gutter of grief and re-invented his life. That included not renewing his contract with the television network, but did his group of fans care? Nope. Business was booming, and he couldn’t care less if his success peaked because most of the people who sought him out were hoping to catch a glimpse of the infamous Ash Harris or his brothers in the band. Toby knew he was damn good at what he did, and so were his employees, because he’d handpicked some of the best himself.

He loved what he did, period.

“You’re fucking right, it doesn’t.” Toby smirked. “Busy days, good coin, and an endless supply of numbers to keep me company during the night.”

“Speaking of pussy,” Carson chuckled, “I’m heading over to Fanny’s for a bite and a couple drinks to unwind. You coming with?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Fanny’s was a local pub down the road. It was close enough to walk over. It was cozy, the beer was cheap, and the owner used to be an old neighbor, so he liked to help keep them in business. It hadn’t hurt that Fanny herself was like a second mother to him, either. “Why not?” He shrugged. “I could use a couple drinks.” Truth was he needed them. He was still having trouble sleeping. It’d been almost two years since his loss, and every time he closed his eyes, Carley’s lifeless image still haunted him. If only he’d died with her that horrible night, maybe he’d be at peace. He shook his head. It wasn’t that he was suicidal, per se. He was just tired as fuck. His brain didn’t have an off switch, and he needed a little something to numb the memories. “The women? We’ll see how it goes.”

“Whatever you say, bro.” His friend chuckled and led the way.

The pub looked like a local hole-in-the-wall from the outside in, but it was so much more, and it wasn’t just because he was biased to it, either. It was just the way it was. Anyone who walked through the door came back again. Fanny’s was notorious for its great food, cheap drinks, and hospitality. The moment he sat his ass down, he felt like he was home.

A mix of rock played in the background as he took his first sip of beer, and he smiled as he watched one of his most favorite people in the world approach him.

“Hey, sugar.” The proprietor gave him a big hug and smiled wide. “My day just got brighter now that you’re both here.” She turned to give Carson equal attention.

“Thanks, Mamma Deuce,” they chorused, and Toby winked. Fanny and her husband were like family, and since some medical problems resulted in them not being able to have children of their own, they had sort of adopted him and his crew as surrogates.

Family didn’t always have to be blood, and apart from Ash and maybe a handful of others, he’d withdrawn from those who were blood-related years ago. They were just too fucked up, and unfortunately, he had the pain of knowing it all too well. It didn’t hurt that it was also easier to close himself off to keep from allowing anyone to get too close. Emotions sucked, and there was just no way in hell he’d allow himself to feel that kind of pain again.

Been there, done that, and could write the damn book.

There were still a select few who still gave a damn about him, no matter how much he’d tried to push them away. And thank fuck for that because it took a special kind of twisted to be a permanent part of his world. Hence the birth of his new shop and the name that came along with it. It suited them perfectly, every damned one of them.

“Oh, stop it.” Fanny guffawed and waved them off. Toby knew she secretly loved their little pet name for her, though. Her eyes lit up every time, and like clockwork, it immediately followed her acting on those motherly instincts of hers. “I love ya, Lord knows I do. Now, what can I get you?”

“The usual for me.” Carson took a swig of his beer and surveyed the inventory of women as he looked around the bar.

Mamma Deuce nodded at his friend in response and arched a brow when Toby answered with, “Not hungry.”

“Not good enough,” she challenged. “You gotta eat, Tob, and since you’re being so stubborn, it’ll be whatever I bring you.”

“Figures.” He smirked and shook his head.

She walked away with a shout out of, “Tough love, Sugar, you know you love it.”

Truthfully, if it wasn’t for Fanny, he probably wouldn’t eat at all. So yeah, it was kind of nice having someone look out for him once in awhile. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

***

“How can you eat that shit without getting severe heartburn, man?”

Carson discarded another chicken bone and licked the hot sauce from his fingers with a shrug. “Abs of steel, bro. You done with that?”

“I am now.” He pushed the remainder of his meatloaf sandwich toward him with a grimace. “Enjoy.”

“Fucking right, I will,” his friend said around a mouthful, and Toby had just enough time to signal the bartender for another drink before they were interrupted by five feet, seven inches of soft, deliciously tempting female company. The night was looking up.

“Oh my God. Toby James? I’ve been coming here the last couple of weeks hoping to run into you. Can I have your autograph?” The blonde bombshell lowered the top half of her shirt to expose a supple amount of cleavage and handed him a marker.

Nice!

“You lucky bastard,” the bottomless pit beside him muttered good naturedly, and the boobs that currently distracted him suddenly moved Carson’s way for a second.

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s always room for you too,” the nameless broad purred, and he arched a brow in momentary shock as she lifted her already barely there skirt to expose her thigh until she hit her panty line.

Skimpy and see through. Interesting.

“I’d say we both are.” He popped the top of the marker off and signaled with his finger for her to come closer. “So, what’s your name honey?”

“Candy.”

Toby tried to cover the snort that came out. Shit, it was too easy and totally cliché. Miss Blonde, bright, and about to be fucked seemed interested, so what did he care? “Pretty name for such a beautiful girl.” His thumb grazed the top of her tit just at the seam as he finished writing his name. He sat back. “Now that you’ve found me, what are your plans?”

“Well, I-I…” It was kind of cute the way she stuttered.

“It’s been a long day, honey. Why don’t you join us for a drink, and if you’re up for it after, we can bring the party back to my place?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a friend around, would you? Or perhaps your comment of, ‘there’s always room for you,’ means you’re up for both of our company tonight, hm?” Carson interrupted and got straight to the point. They were both there looking to get laid, and if she wanted an out, now would be the time to take it. Did he care if she had a friend? Not particularly. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to share and probably wouldn’t be the last.

Candy jumped at the chance, and any nervousness she’d once had vanished instantly. “Well, I was supposed to meet a couple girlfriends here tonight, but I’m feeling selfish now. So what do you say we skip the drink and escape before they get here?” She pressed herself between both men and slid an arm through each one of theirs to get them moving. “I’m a bigger fan than they are anyway, and trust me when I say I can handle the both of you just fine.”

“You sure? The more the merrier. Carson and I would be more than happy to have your friends join us, too.” Toby shrugged, threw a few bills down for Fanny, which would cover everything plus a tip, and faced them again, ready to go.

“Very. Let’s go.” Candy tugged them forward, and both men chuckled. Their blonde plaything was eager for them and apparently wasn’t into sharing with her friends tonight.

Toby’s spacious studio apartment was above the shop just a few blocks away, and it took them no time at all to get there. Screw letting her look around, though. As soon as his door opened, he captured Candy’s lips and began to undress her. That left Carson to close it behind them before he jumped into the action. They were a mixture of limbs, tongues, and teeth. Discarded clothing was being thrown across the place as they walked her backward until her legs hit the bed and Toby gently lowered her down. “You ready for this, sweetheart?”

“Hell, yes,” Candy hissed. Her breath was laboured with need, and it gave them both a nice view of her bared breasts. His mouth began to water, and Toby’s cock was so hard he ached.

“Whoa!” Carson chuckled as she pounced, pulling Toby on top of her again to feast on his mouth. “Slow down, babe. We’ve got all night.” He watched while discarding his clothes before Toby pulled himself back from her to do the same.

This chick was on fire for them, and thank fuck because Toby really needed this, and now it was time to make her scream. Toby gripped the base of his cock and pumped himself a couple of times, enjoying the show. She writhed for his buddy as he trailed his mouth down her throat to her chest and stopped to pay extra attention to those luscious mounds.

Shit! So hot.

His control was wavering, and his cock slapped against his flat stomach when he let it go so he could grip her hips, pull her toward the edge of the bed, and spread her legs. Her pussy glistened with arousal, and Toby groaned at the sight of the smooth swollen lips and shiny pink center, which he suddenly needed to taste. He dropped to his knees and kissed, nipped, and licked his way up her thighs, purposely taking his time to drive her wild. But it worked even better the moment he took his first lick to her core from ass to clit and back again. He licked, flicked, sucked, and tongue-fucked her into oblivion. It was a part of sex he truly enjoyed, and he was so caught up in it that it took him a minute to realize he was being spoken to.

“Please tell me she tastes as good as she looks.”

Toby’s mouth glistened as he pulled back to smirk at his friend. “I do love my pussy.” He shrugged, and Candy groaned with a plea.

“Please?”

“Please what, baby?” Carson chuckled. “Tell us what you want.”

“Ugh,” she writhed. “I want somebody to put their mouth back on my cunt so I can come. I’m so fucking close. Then I want to be fucked hard and fast, pounded so good I can see stars, then I want to taste one of you or both. Okay?”

“Is that all?” Toby winked and began to toy with her clit again, but with his fingers this time, and she moaned so loudly, he could feel her vibrate.

“Please?” she begged.

“Fuck, yeah. Switch places with me, dude. It’s my turn to mouth fuck that sweet pussy.” His buddy leaped off the bed to replace him. Carson got to work between her legs while Toby fisted his hands in her long blonde hair and feasted on her mouth, made her taste herself, and it was good.

Candy writhed and screamed in ecstasy within minutes, and now it was their turn. Carson quickly suited up with a condom, got her on all fours, and fucked her like she’d asked them to. Toby stood in front of her and tapped her mouth with the tip of his dick for the taste of him she’d practically begged for. The moment those soft lips and the delectable heat of her luscious mouth surrounded him, he was lost, and he knew without a doubt tonight would be a good night…to forget.

Chapter Three

Harlow

“Hey, you.” Harlow smiled with warmth as her friend Calista stood to embrace her. “I’m so glad I could talk you into coming.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Harlow bit her lip and scrunched her nose. “I’ve been hiding out like a hermit, and I need to re-learn how to join the living once in awhile.” She spent most of her time alone at home or concentrating on work. Which meant she didn’t get out to socialize much. When Calista called to meet for appetizers and a few drinks at a new restaurant around the corner from her, she figured, why not? If it came to be too much to handle, she was within walking distance to her safe haven, which was home.

The restaurant was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside. It had a modern look to it, with its polished black floors, chrome stools, and granite table tops. Clearly trendy and popular so far, judging by how packed it was, too.

“Ah, baby steps. And this is a great way to start, right?” Calista squeezed her hand and took a seat. “All work and no play makes a dreary existence. It’s nice to see a little of the old you beginning to come out.”

She nodded and shifted in her seat. “O-oh, hello?”

“Harlow Ross, meet Melody Tyler. Mel, Harlow.” Her friend waved between the two of them and smiled.

“Harlow Ross? No eff’n way.”

“The one and only.” Harlow laughed nervously. It still fazed her how some people reacted to meeting her. The enthusiasm was flattering, but it was hard to get used to. She was treated as somewhat of a local celebrity. At least by women; the men, not so much. But that was her target audience anyway. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, and might I just say, I’m a total fan of your column in Twin City Women’s Magazine. It’s downright hilarious sometimes.”

Okay, and how am I supposed to respond to that?

“Um, thanks—I think.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Calista shook her head and looked amused. “I met Mel a few months back when I got this done.” She lifted the sleeve of her shirt to expose the phoenix she’d had tattooed on her inner forearm. “Her brother, who did the tattoo, was an incorrigible flirt, and although he’s harmless, Mel here got him to stop by cracking jokes. It was a riot.”

“Carson’s a great guy, but he chases anything in a skirt.” Mel rolled her eyes. “Sometimes he can come off a little strong, so what’s a little playful banter between siblings when the outcome results in a few laughs and a bit of fun?”

“I agree.”

“Callie tells me you were thinking about getting some ink for yourself.”

Harlow had a glass of water in hand and was mid-sip before she began to choke. “Sorry, wrong hole.” She wheezed and arched a brow toward her friend after she finished her bout of coughing and got it under control. She’d always been kind of awkward, especially in front of new people, and it was showing. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Picked out a design so I can cover the scars, eventually, but I haven’t made the leap to do it yet.”

“Oh, come on, Har. I know you’re still holding on, and the scars are some twisted way of reminding you…”

“Yes, Calista, they remind me that life is precious, and it can be ripped away at any second,” she snapped, looked away, then took a deep breath to push the emotions back down. The anger, hurt, and the “what if’s” would always be a part of her, and suddenly, the restaurant seemed like it was closing in on them.

Okay, deep breath in, one huge breath out, and repeat. Deep breathe in, and…out.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“No, I am, honey.” Calista sighed. “You talk about your design, and it sounds beautiful. It also has a lot of meaning for you. Why not take something bad and turn it into something pretty?”

“Which is why I’m here.” Melody cleared her throat and blushed. “I can’t imagine what you went through, and I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t express how much, but I work at Misfit, and I’d be glad to hook you up.”

A few years ago, four to be exact, Harlow had been in a major car accident, which resulted in the death of her then two-year-old daughter, Lily. About a year after it happened, and a change in career later, she’d opened up about it through her column. It was old news, and anyone who was a fan knew what happened and of her loss.

“Drunk Driver Jackknifes Semi Across State Highway Totalling Volkswagen Jetta. One Dead, One in Serious Condition,” the headlines had read. The humongous truck had swerved and clipped her car just before the back end of the tractor trailer skidded sideways, narrowly missing them when it rolled over. She had no time to react to being run off the road. One minute she’d been checking the rear-view mirror to see her precious little angel sleeping in her car seat. The next thing she knew, she’d awakened heavily sedated in the hospital a few days later. Eventually, the doctor had told her she’d had to be cut out of her car, Lily had died painlessly upon impact, and Harlow was lucky to be alive.

Back to the present, Harlow, come on! Calista’s talking to you.

“They’re amazingly talented.” Her friend beamed, completely oblivious to Harlow’s internal struggle. “And they used to have that TV show. You know the one, Blank Canvas Tattoo.”

“You’re a tattoo artist?” she asked Melody. She’d heard of the show but was too ashamed to admit she hadn’t watched it and didn’t want to offend anyone. She kept quiet about that fact. Yet the change of topic was nice to keep them from talking about her accident. Such a long time ago, yet it sometimes felt like yesterday.

She shivered.

“Not exactly. I’m actually their piercer.” Mel winked. “But the guys are the best at what they do, and because you have an in, mainly me,” she chuckled, “you won’t have to go on the wait list for an appointment. I can get you in probably as early as next week.”

“Seriously, there’s a waiting list for tattoo shops?” Harlow didn’t have much knowledge or experience in the tattoo business, but they’d piqued her curiosity.

Maybe I should just check the place out and see what happens. I always said I’d do this eventually, anyway.

She chewed her bottom lip and pondered on it.

“Thanks to the show and the fact that we’re tied to Love the Sinner, we book up pretty fast.” Melody shrugged. “Yeah, there are shops with wait lists. Not many can take walk-ins nowadays. People just show up, let us know what they want and where they want it, and we set an appointment at a different time. Before you make up your mind, why don’t you stop by and check the place out first?”

“Okay, wait a minute,” Harlow said. “As in the band? Are you serious?” She was having a fangirl moment suddenly. Her head was kind of everywhere now, though. “Oh my god. I love listening to them, and their single ‘Sinister’ is my new favorite.” The other two women laughed at her and shook their heads in affirmation as she hummed the chorus.

“One and the same. The guys are a great bunch, and the shop’s owner is related to their lead singer. What do you say? Meet me at Misfit next Friday at six? I’ll show you around, and we can go grab a bite to eat afterward.”

“Count me in,” Calista exclaimed. “I can meet you two at Fanny’s around seven. It’ll give me time to get home from work and change.”

Her heart raced as she tried to make up her mind. It’d been so long since she’d done something this impulsive. Not since before…

She shuddered and shook the thought away. “Sure. Why not. Friday at six. I think I can handle that.”

“Oh!” Calista squealed with excitement and jumped up from her chair to give Harlow another hug. “You won’t regret this. Now let’s celebrate with a round of drinks.”

Chapter Four

Toby

Oh, fuck me!

He’d seen a lot of hot ass in his lifetime, but this chick was a fucking ten and then some. He couldn’t help but gravitate toward the front to get a closer look. She had thick, long, brown hair almost down to her butt, a cute hourglass figure, flat stomach, perky tits, and a firm, round ass, from what he could see of her, anyway. He was rewarded with a side view of her now.

“Can I help you?” his receptionist, Dee, asked.

“I hope so.” Ms. Hottie smirked. “I’m here to see Melody Tyler.”

Mel, huh? Well, well, well. Somebody’s been holding out on us.

“She’s in with a client. Is she expecting you?”

“She is.” The brunette bombshell looked to her watch and back up again. “Can you please let her know Harlow is here?”

“The Twin City chick?” Dee smiled.

Okay, what the fuck? I’m missing something here.

Hottie Harlow chuckled, and it went straight to his cock.

“Guilty.” She bit her lip. “It’s nice to meet you, uh…”

“Name’s Diamond Rae, but I prefer Dee, and might I say, I totally admire what you do. You’re an inspiration, honey. Have yourself a seat, and I’ll see if I can get Mel to hurry it up.”

“Um, thank you.” She blushed.

Dee turned around and ran smack into him. “Oh, hey, Tob.” She winked on her way by. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Toby nodded then leaned against the front counter. “Haven’t seen you around before. Are you a friend of Mel’s?” he asked as if he hadn’t already heard.

Yep, the face is as hot as the rest.

The thought tugged at his heart, and he resisted the urge to rub his chest. She was that striking. Heart-shaped face, big, green, doe eyes, a small pert nose, and very luscious lips he could picture himself nibbling on.

“I guess, yeah,” she answered with a shrug. “Mel’s great. We went out the other night with a mutual friend and made plans to meet up tonight, and here I am.”

“You getting pierced?” He looked at her chest and imagined tugging on a nip piercing with his mouth and laving it with his tongue for a taste. Toby shifted as the crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably snug.

Shit!

“No.” She chuckled, as if the thought might be absurd. “I’m trying to gain enough courage to actually go through with getting a tattoo. It’s been a long time coming, and Mel thought it might be a good idea to come in to check things out here first before heading out.” She looked around. “I thought it would be much busier.”

Now, that I can help with.

“It usually is.” Toby chuckled. “My guy Carson’s in with a client, Mel’s with someone right now, and I’m waiting on my next appointment. We’ve been pretty steady, so much so that I’m looking to hire on more artists to meet the demand.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply—what I mean is Mel told me about the wait list, and I clearly know nothing about the tattoo industry.”

“It’s all good, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “What were you looking to get and where?”

“A skull with a long vine of flowers going through it to represent life and death intertwined.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like it to be shaded in black and white, but I want color on the floral part to make it stand out. I’m not sure if my description is doing justice to what I have pictured in my head, but I want the branch-like vine to start at the top like a halo. It’ll go through the skull and then drape down my side into a bouquet.” Harlow walked closer to him. She turned to her side and lifted her right arm while her left hand pointed from under her breast right down past her ribs and ended at her hip.

Toby nodded and knew it was something he could do easily. “The ribs can be a bitch to cover, but I can see it. Picture your tattoo in my head. You know what type of flowers you want?”

“Yeah, I’d like a mixture. A pink carnation to start with. It’s the traditional death flower, but I think they’re pretty. Then maybe a lily, an orchid, a rose or two, stuff like that. Definitely need the lily to stand out. That’s important. You know, pretty.” She made cute little hand gestures while she spoke, and it left him smiling.

“You’re going big.”

Obviously, dumb ass. Way to state the obvious.

“It’ll have to be big to cover the scars.” Her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her lips as if she didn’t mean to say that part out loud yet.

“Scars?”

“From an accident.” Harlow sighed. “Car accident a few years back. Got cut up pretty badly, and, well…” She shrugged and kept it vague on purpose. “The scars are the worst on my side here.”

“I get it.” He nodded.

Scars?

Hell, he had a few of those, thanks to some of the burns he’d sustained when the old place had burned down. Toby suppressed the shudder that usually came after thinking about the fire and continued. “Can I see what we might be dealing with here?”

“You want me to lift my shirt?” She stared at him, incredulous. “Right this minute? Seriously?”

“Well, yeah, there’s nobody around, and I promise to keep you covered.” He smirked and walked around the counter to the waiting area to take a closer look. “Certain scars can be hard to cover up. Wouldn’t you like to know if it can be done or not?”

“I guess so.” She eyed him suspiciously. “What exactly are your credentials? For all I know, you could be some random guy who walked into this place. I don’t even know your name.”

“Good one.” He chuckled and held out his hand for her. “Toby James at your service. I’ve been tattooing for over a decade, and I also own this place, but thanks for the laugh.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened when he reached over the counter to hand her his business card, and she smiled. “Foot meet mouth. I’m Harlow Ross. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.” He nodded to her and swallowed hard. “Come on back for a sec. It’ll give you more privacy. Mel will be a few more minutes, anyway.” Toby led her past the counter, into his new office space, and shut the door. “You know it’s not every day I meet someone who doesn’t already know who I am.”

“I’m sorry?” Harlow looked adorably confused.

“The show and Ash made me and the shop somewhat of a celebrity around here. You never watched?”

“Guilty.” She blushed. “I’ve been busy with my career the last couple of years, and I don’t really watch much television. I’d rather read.” Harlow cleared her throat. “Now about the tattoo…”

“Right. By all means, be my guest.” They were back there so he could see the scar tissue he’d be covering up, after all. He’d already decided it’d be him that’d be touching her skin, marking her with his art, for her very first time. He’d make the time to pop this woman’s tattoo cherry any day. Toby smirked as she lifted the side of her shirt for him. He really did need to check out the area to see how bad the skin was. He also needed to see how the tatt she wanted would fit with the shape of her body, if she went through with it. It also didn’t hurt that she was somebody he wouldn’t mind getting naked with, either. It gave him the opportunity to see more skin. There was something about her that intrigued him more than his usual one- or two-night distractions had.

Get your head out of your ass, dipshit. She’s a potential client, and you might want a few rounds with her in the sheets, nothing more. Fucking concentrate!

“Well?” Her questioning look and raised eyebrow brought him out of his own thoughts as he studied the area in question.

Her skin looked smooth and incredibly soft, except for the damaged skin tissue that began from the side of her breast and ran down the length of ribs. A thin line of white slightly puckered out from her undamaged areas. Then it broke apart, curved toward her flat stomach, and she had three smaller-looking scars from belly to hip. Although smaller in diameter, the lower ones looked rougher, as if they’d had a much harder time healing. Without thinking about it, he traced them with his fingers, and it felt like a spark ignited. An electric current passed between them, and while Harlow gasped, he gritted his teeth to keep from growling. Whatever remained of his blood left the top part of him and headed south, just when he thought he couldn’t possibly get any harder for her. He needed to get laid again, obviously.

Toby quickly stepped away and took a deep breath. “Good news is I think this is completely doable. I can spread out the flower part on the bottom to cover what you want, but they’ll still be there. You get me? Cover-ups can be tricky, and the scars will be camouflaged but…”

“I get it.” She held up her hands, and her shirt fell back into place. “And thank you. I’m just trying to make something horrible into something a little less ugly. They’re a part of me now, a reminder to never forget.”

He watched her look away, and he almost groaned as soon as he heard the voices down the hall coming closer. His time with her seemed to be coming to an end, for now. Dee was coming back with Carson and his client following close behind. He could hear them walk past. He quickly grabbed a piece of paper and asked if he could trace the area and mark an X along the length and the scarred parts for the sketch. When she agreed, he did so quickly and stepped back again. “This way, it’ll be easier to make the design to cover up the right spots.” Toby opened the door and walked with her back to the lobby a minute or two later.

“I appreciate it. Thanks, again.” Harlow extended her hand, but instead of taking it to shake, he decided to place a kiss on it. He winked, and she turned a pretty shade of red. A minute later, his six-thirty walked in, and the usual chaos began. He just hoped she didn’t chicken out and they would have an opportunity to meet again. “It’s been a pleasure, Harlow. I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.” She graced him with a smile as he walked away. Toby could hear Carson giving the normal aftercare instruction spiel to his latest canvas and shook his head with amusement as he heard him spot Mel’s new friend at the reception desk. He listened vaguely to his friend’s lame-ass pickup line before entering his private workspace.

“Damn, I hope you know CPR, because baby, you’ve taken my breath away…”

“Carson Emery Tyler! You leave her alone,” Mel barked on her way toward the front, and his appointment started on a good foot with a hearty laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. The sound of brother and sister bantering, the phone ringing, a hot girl, and someone sitting in his chair waiting for ink. It was his life, and he counted every blessing he had before the darkness took hold again.

Chapter Five

~Idiosyncratic (i.e., idiosyncrasy): Is an individualizing characteristic or quality often used to express eccentricity in a person or situation.~

Harlow

“I know this is a little unorthodox, but I was wondering if you could take a look at this for me.” They’d arrived at Fanny’s and were waiting for Calista when Melody slid a folded piece of paper across the table.

“What’s this?” She looked toward her new friend with curiosity and opened it up.

“I meant to send that through the appropriate channels at the magazine for you to reply, but I figured, since you’re already here, I’d just hand it to you in person.”

“Oh?” Now she was curious. Helping people was a passion, the reason for her psychology degree. Since the accident, she’d traded in her cushy office and scheduled hourly appointments for the ability to work from home with flexible hours. She still helped people, but now she did it through her Harlow Helps advice column at the magazine. It wasn’t glamorous, but she enjoyed herself. It paid the bills and made her quite popular with the female demographic from the ages of twenty through to fifty. “Mind if I take a quick look while we wait?”

“Be my guest.”

Dear Harlow:

I have this friend who’s more like family, really, and I’m worried about him. We’ll call him Mr. Idiosyncratic.

A couple years ago, tragedy struck, and it hit us all pretty hard, especially him, when he lost the love of his life and his life’s work in the same moment. For a while there, none of us were even sure he’d pull through it.

There was a horrible fire on the night he proposed to his girlfriend, and I fear he still blames himself for surviving when he couldn’t save her. He was burned badly on his lower legs, suffered from smoke inhalation, and it was a long recovery process. Problem is, I think he’s still stuck in the nightmare.

He’s a shell of the man he once was, and he hides behind this tough guy persona and a parade of meaningless bimbos. He also works himself raw to escape feeling anything too emotionally painful. I realize this is something one doesn’t get over very easily, if ever, but his fiancé would have wanted him to live life to its fullest. To move on, not to dwell on the bad, and instead remember the good times they’d shared. She was amazing like that.

I guess I just wish there was something more we could all do to help him.

Do you have any suggestions? I figure you might be able to relate.

Sincerely,

Worried About a Brother

“He’s lucky to have you.” Harlow wiped a stray tear and looked away. She normally didn’t get emotional over her work. She’d learned the hard way to detach herself from it, but there was something in this message that hit close to home. “But why use idiosyncratic?”

“Because he’s a one of a kind, and I didn’t want to use his real name, for obvious reasons.” She gestured to her letter and back again. “I’ve never talked to a shrink before. I highly doubt he has, either. Let’s face it. He’s a guy.” Melody smirked. “But I’m taking a leap with you because I know you’ve experienced a big heap of grief yourself. It’s not the same thing, but I read what happened to you in the paper, and after…”

“Please, say no more.” She held up a hand to halt Melody from rehashing her own demons. It was not the time nor the place to go there, and instead, she managed to muster up a smile to pretend the subject didn’t bother her as much as it did. Not that she was fooling anybody. Everyone was a work in progress, right? “Did you want me to add this to the column, or would you prefer to keep this between the two of us? It’s a little heavier than the letters I usually get.”

“You’d do that?”

Harlow shrugged. “Not normally, since I started at Twin City, but I can make an exception this time, if you’d like me to. I feel like you’ve gone out of your way for me with the whole tattoo business, and we hardly know each other yet. The offer is the least I can do.”

“I wrote that fully thinking you’d add it, but if you could, I’d really appreciate the discretion. He’d be pissed if he knew I wrote that.”

“He must be pretty special for you to care so much.”

“He’s my brother from another mother.” Mel sighed. “He’s pushed a lot of people away, and there are only a few of us he lets get close. He’d do the same for me, if the roles were reversed. He’s special, but he’s also ridiculously talented, hard-working, and caring, and I know he loves fiercely when he opens himself up. When the right kind of girl comes along once more, she’ll be one lucky chick. I just want to see him happy again. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“Absolutely. Nothing at all wrong with that.” Harlow tucked the letter inside her purse. “Let me sleep on it, go over your letter again, and I’ll give you a reply the next time we meet up. By the way, I really liked your tour today, and I’ve decided to brave the temptation. Think you can give me a call sometime tomorrow so we can set up an appointment for that tattoo?”

“Seriously? Hell, yeah. I’ll check. Toby and Carson are both ridiculously talented. Do you have a preference between the two of ‘em?”

“I’ll take your word for it and go with whichever one you decide to book. Beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes, and both men seemed completely competent in their abilities.”

Melody’s drink flew out of her mouth and nose, and her laugh turned into a bout of coughing while she tried to compose herself. “Competent, huh? I’ll be sure to let them know you thought so.”

“Hey, what’d I miss?” Calista shimmied in her seat and looked between the two of them. “Ooh, that looks good.” She pointed to their drinks. “I want one, too.”

“Ms. Helps here has decided to get that tattoo after tonight,” Mel exclaimed while pointing toward Harlow, then she stood. “As for my drink, I’ll get you one, too. The next round’s on me. Then we’ll order some food.”

Callie squealed and squished her with a bear hug. “You’re doing it. Finally! Way to go, Har. You’ll see once you get one. You’ll want another in no time.”

“Uh, huh, we’ll see.” She smiled and felt elated. Harlow Ross was completing a long-awaited goal in memory of her daughter. It was as if she was opening a new chapter in her life, and it was going to be a good one.

Chapter Six

Harlow

Dear Mel:

Mr. Idiosyncratic has clearly been through a traumatic ordeal. And although I’m glad he survived, I am also truly sorry for the loss you all have suffered, from his injuries to the death of his loving fiancé. I hope you don’t mind, but since this is between the two of us, I’ve decided to be a little more in-depth with my letter to you instead of the shorter responses I usually give in my column.

Grief varies from one person to another. Sometimes it takes one person longer to go through the grieving process, as we all deal with things differently. It’s a part of what makes us unique as individuals, and it has varying factors, like how close we were to the person we’re mourning…that kind of thing.

In our bereavement, we often move between stages before achieving a more peaceful acceptance of death, and many of us aren’t afforded the luxury of doing so in a timely manner.

But remember, this is a very personal process and only a quick glimpse to help you understand and put into context what Mr. Idiosyncratic is probably facing.

Here are those steps:

1. Denial and Isolation: In my case, I used to pretend my daughter was on vacation with her grandparents and would walk through my door with them any minute because it was easier than the harsh reality that my baby was gone and would never be returning. You mentioned hearing about my situation, and this step is a natural reaction to rationalize overwhelming emotions.

2. Anger: Once the denial begins to fade, reality sets in, and its pain re-emerges fiercely. It’s blindsiding, and we’re vulnerable, so that hurt turns into anger. It may be aimed at ourselves, an inanimate object, strangers, our families, or even the one we lost for leaving us. Rationally speaking, we know it’s not their fault. Emotionally, however, there can be resentment. It’s then followed by guilt for feeling that way, and that makes us angry yet again with ourselves or with the situation itself.

3. Bargaining: When we feel helpless, there’s often a need to feel in control. That’s when the should’ve, would’ve, could’ve, what-if’s, or if-only’s come in.

4. Depression: Losing someone you love is a very stressful experience, from how the death occurred, to the cost of the funeral, and how we’re going to survive afterwards. It’s our preparation for the final goodbye. It can be hard to get past, and sometimes all we need is a good hug and someone to be there for us, even when we try our hardest to push them away. So it’s good that he has you to stand by him.

5. Acceptance: Unfortunately, not all of us get here. When a death is sudden or unexpected, some may never get through the anger or denial. Coping with loss is a very personal experience. The best thing is to be a comfort for your friend and to just be there when he needs you most.

Another thing to think about is the possibility of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD is a mental illness that involves exposure to trauma involving death, the threat of it, or serious injury. Trauma, like the fire Mr. Idiosyncratic experienced, can cause the recovery period to last much longer. He may re-experience it through vivid nightmares, flashbacks, or with thoughts of the fire that come from out of nowhere. He may have trouble sleeping. He can experience anxiety, have a hard time concentrating, or feel irritable. Some people even manage to feel numb or detached, which might explain all the “bimbo’s” and crazy work habits, as you put it. But please note: not all traumatic experiences lead to PTSD, and I am in no way diagnosing anything by mentioning it. It could very well be a possibility, though, so keep it in mind.

I know you said your friend might not be interested in therapy, but maybe one day he’ll change his mind. There are several counselling services he may be interested in for the future, and there are also support groups, if that’s a more comfortable route. If you’d like more information on that, I’d be happy to provide a list of resources for you.

What do I suggest, you ask? I suggest you continue to be supportive. Give him the options I’ve listed about the resources out there to help him cope and talk it out. Express your concerns and your worries and continually remind him that there are people who care about him, no matter what.

Life goes on, one way or another.

I wish I could be of more help to you, but there’s no easy answer here. The only one who can truly make a serious mark on Mr. Idiosyncratic and his life is Mr. I, himself, and the people who love and support him.

Life is what you make of it, after all, and I say he’s very lucky to have you in it.

Sincerely,

Harlow

“Baby, Lucky Charms must be your favorite kind of cereal, cause you look magically delicious over here.”

“Carson.” Harlow smirked and quickly closed her laptop. “How are you today?”

“Now, that’s a loaded question,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Harlow laughed.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” He slid the chair across from her out, turned it around, and sat down so they were now at eye level.

“You have a way with words that always manages to make me smile or laugh. Tell me—do those lines actually ever work?”

“Sometimes.” He winked. “And, if all else fails, it’s always good to leave a woman smiling.”

“Touché.”

“Do you come here often?” He gestured around the small coffee shop and back again.

“I do, since it’s in the general neighborhood from my apartment, but I normally don’t tend to bring work with me.” Her fingers tapped on the closed computer. “I haven’t seen you around before. Is this your first time here?”

She loved Dark Java’s homey atmosphere, from their comfortable cushioned chairs, to the free Wi-Fi, to their friendly service, to the vibrant colors on the walls. But what made it better was the fact that it was a diamond in the ruff. A place not everyone seemed to know about, but once they did, they were hooked. Not only was the coffee great but so was the food they served. Sometimes it was just nice to escape from the walls closing in on her at home. Working from there had its perks, but there were times when Harlow felt like she needed a fresh space, somewhere with more windows and sunlight and, well, people.

“I, uh, stayed with a friend last night, and I needed a little caffeine pick me up before heading to work.” He shrugged, but she also noted the slight tint of red in his cheeks. She bit her lip to keep from laughing at him again, but he changed the subject anyway. “What exactly is it that you do?”

“I’m surprised your sister hasn’t mentioned it already. I’m thinking she might be one of my biggest fans.” That seemed to pique his curiosity. “I currently write for Twin City Women’s Magazine as an advice columnist. It’s quite rewarding, it pays the bills, and I like that I’m able to work from home.”

“Oh, fuck. You’re not the Harlow Helps chick, are you? Melody reads that stuff every day. She’s hooked and makes sure there’s a current issue at the shop to read between clients. She and Dee eat that shit up.”

He looked a little guilty for his choice of words, and she decided to take pity on him. “I take it you’re not a fan, then?” She chuckled and continued talking before he could answer. “No worries, Carson. I’m not offended. I’m glad the girls ‘eat that shit up,’ as you say. Women love the column, and men…well…” She shrugged, not exactly sure on how to finish that thought. “Let’s just say, I’m happy my target audience enjoys it enough to keep me comfortably employed. It’s flattering. I think the key is to be relatable. I try to personalize each of my replies to the specific reader who writes in, and sometimes, if I see fit, I’ll even put in some of my own experiences.”

He grunted. “Speaking of, you talk to Mel lately?”

“Not since yesterday. Why?” A couple weeks had gone by since their last outing, and she’d been able to squeeze Harlow into the schedule to get her long-awaited tattoo.

“Did she give you the appointment? Toby’s scheduled you in on his time off as a special favor.”

“He did what? You’re not serious?” Her eyes widened, and truth be told, now she felt a little guilty.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he said, as if that would appease the uneasiness she suddenly felt. “He likes you.”

“I-uh, um…”

Carson got his mischievous gaze back while she stumbled for a reply. “Did you know I once heard kissing burns about three calories a minute? Feel like a workout before I leave here?” He puckered for her, and the effect worked, because she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” she asked, but instead of answering, he just lifted her hand and gave her a quick peck.

“If it’s any consolation, I like you too, sweetheart.” He winked, rose from the chair, and parted with a quick, “But I seriously gotta go or I’ll be late.”

Rendered speechless by his quick parting from the table, Harlow watched him buy a cup of coffee and wave at her before he left.

With a shake of her head, she dug out her phone to dial Mel, who answered after the first ring.

“Hey, Chica. What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you tell me Toby would have to squeeze me in on his days off?”

Mel sighed. “He probably sees it as you doing him a favor. He works like a dog, and he’d be here anyway. So why not?”

“Are you sure? Because I’d hate to put him out.” She gripped her phone tighter. “I feel sort of guilty.”

“As if,” Mel replied. “Girl, I don’t know what was said between the two of you the other night, but he seems intrigued, happy even, and he wants to do it. Not sure if it’s the design or you. Whatever the motivation, this is good for him, and he’s already started on some ideas to show you. You wouldn’t want to waste all that hard work, would you? Toby’s a genius. I can’t wait for your reaction when you see what he’s come up with.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Harlow smiled. “Just one more thing before I let you go. Are you free for lunch? I finished writing you a response regarding your letter, and I’d love to give it to you. My treat!”

“Damn right, I am. What time are you thinking?”

“One o’clock? I’ll meet you at the shop.”

“Sounds good to me. By the by, how did you know Toby’s schedule anyway?”

“I ran into Carson this morning, and he let it slip.”

“Figures,” Mel mumbled. “My brother has a big mouth. Don’t mind him.”

“He certainly is a one of a kind, but I think that’s a good thing.” Harlow smirked.

“Meh, he’s all right,” Melody teased. “I’ve got to go for now. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Chapter Seven

Harlow

Her experience this time was much different from the last. The moment she walked into the shop, it was packed. The phone was ringing. There was a line at reception and no available seating in the waiting area, where a small group of people looked through the stacks of portfolios available to them.

“Harlow!” Dee waved her over after putting someone on hold. “Come on back here.”

Wow!

She made her way behind the counter. “Thanks.”

“Mel’s expecting you. Why don’t you grab a coffee or something in the break room while you wait? It shouldn’t be too long.”

“Uh, where?”

“Down that hall. Second door to the right.”

The moderate-sized room consisted of two plush reclining chairs facing a small flat screen mounted to the wall fully equipped with an Xbox, games, and controllers. A small kitchenette to the left contained a large fridge. Her eyes landed on the coffee machine, and she sighed, contented.

Mm, coffee.

She moved toward it, with the intention of making a cup, when she noticed the table on the opposite end of the room and the unknown man sitting there from the corner of her eye. “Oh?” She jumped and placed a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

Damn, Harlow. You should really start taking in your surroundings.

“I noticed.” He smirked playfully. “By all means, carry on. Don’t mind me.”

She nodded and began to rummage through the cupboards to grab a mug. “Would you like a cup?” When she looked over again, he was immersed in the book in front of him.

“Nah, I’m good.” He gestured toward the glass of water beside him and watched her approach with interest.

“I’m Harlow. It’s nice to meet you, Mr.—?

“Parker. Rebel Parker.”

She stretched out her hand to greet him, and they shook.

“What are you working on there?” She pointed to the paper he was writing on, coffee forgotten.

“This,” he replied, “is just a doodle to kill time while I wait for Toby to come around, and this is my portfolio.” His head tilted towards a large book beside him, and he shrugged.

“That’s amazing,” she said while staring in awe at the gothic-looking fairy drawing he was in the midst of sketching, blown away by its detail.

“Let’s hope the boss feels the same way.” Rebel chuckled. “Because I’m hoping to be the next artist hired here. Toby and I go way back, but you never know.”

“Well, with that kind of talent, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be.” She shook her head. “I’m getting my first tattoo soon, and I hope it’ll look just as good as that does.”

“I was beginning to wonder.” His mouth tilted up as he studied her. “Are you a new hire too, by chance?”

“No.” Her mouth twitched.

Now that’s a laughable thought.

She didn’t have an artistic bone in her body. Hell, the best she could draw was probably stick figures. “I’m here waiting for Melody, actually.”

“Lucky Mel.” He winked.

“Hey, Reb. I finally have a few minutes free if…” Toby stopped dead in the doorway and looked between the two at his table with a raised brow. “Harlow?”

“Toby.” She stood. “If I’m in the way, I could just—”

“Absolutely not,” the boss man said. “I’m glad to see you.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.” He strode toward her and gently grabbed her hand to hold it. “I have a sketch for you to look at.”

Her mind went blank the moment his thumb started rubbing against her skin, and she gulped.

Is it me, or did the heat just go way up in here? Good Lord. What’s with this man and my reaction whenever he’s around? This whole place is filled with hot guys. That’s what’s up. There’s Toby, Carson, and now this Rebel guy. Damn, maybe I need to visit more often.

She cleared her throat. “I’d love to, but I can see you’re busy.” She gestured toward Rebel and back again.

Toby wasn’t having any of it. He gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him, and she was suddenly immersed in a Toby-filled fog. He was gorgeous, with dark brown hair, short on the sides and a little longer on top, giving it a messy but sexy look. His clear complexion had a naturally tanned look, thanks to what she assumed were either a Greek or Italian heritage. He had these stunning brown eyes so dark, they almost looked black, and they had a way of hypnotizing her to not look away whenever he came near.

Harlow sighed with longing as her eyes caressed their way down his physique. Broad shoulders and muscular arms filled with tattoos she wouldn’t mind exploring at another time, a flat stomach she knew must have been rippled with a six pack, and a tapered waist encased in form-fitting jeans. He clearly worked out. The man was a huge mass of muscle and ink. It was a heady combination, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this attracted to a man. It had been so long. Toby cleared his throat to gain her attention again, and she could feel the heat hit her face. He’d obviously caught her ogling. The smirk he wore just proved it as he spoke. “There’s no time like the present. Hey, Reb, can you give me a few more minutes?”

“Whatever you say, boss man.” Rebel looked amused and dismissed them by continuing to draw.

“Great!” Toby tugged her out of the room and toward his work station. She hoped he was about to show her what he came up with based on her description from last time.

She knew she was right when Toby handed her the sketch.

“Oh, wow!” It was picture perfect, even better than she’d imagined, and she couldn’t help a tear from escaping down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away. Toby had really made her life and death tattoo a reality, and she was in awe of it. The large skull was shaded in black and grey, just as she’d described, with the traditional death flower, aka carnation, flowing through it from top to bottom, its stem working as a halo on top. The flowers continued to flow from the bottom, and she loved the vibrant colors and that he focused on putting lilies into the mix. “Thank you.” It came out quieter than she’d expected, so she cleared her throat.

“Hey, are you okay?” Her answer was muffled the moment his big arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close.

She just needed a minute and stood there enjoying the warmth of his hug. It was sort of nice to be embraced like this, and the soft beat of his heart against her ear was soothing.

He smells so good.

“I’m fine. Sorry.” Harlow stepped back and laughed. “I’m speechless because it’s perfect, but I’m also a little embarrassed because of my reaction.” She traced the image lovingly and tried to explain. “Thank you for this. It’s better than I’d imagined, and she would have loved it, too.”

He didn’t look certain, though. “She?”

“My daughter. Her name was Lily.” She traced the flowers again and focused on a calla lily in the center.

“Was?” Toby held her hand again. “What happened to her?”

“Car accident. A drunk driver hit us, and I made it, but she—she didn’t.” Her eyes left the tattoo sketch and landed on him again to gauge his reaction.

“Damn, Harlow. I’m so sorry.” He nodded as if he understood and squeezed her hand in a show of support she really appreciated. Truthfully, he looked devastated for her, and she couldn’t stand the sight because it would only bring her down into that dark place that she didn’t have room for anymore.

It’d been a long, hard road to recovery, because not only had she lost her daughter, she’d almost lost her own life as well. With time, she was finally starting to get back to how she used to be before all the tragedy began, and Harlow desperately needed to stay there. Losing Lily wasn’t something she’d ever get over. It’d be with her for the rest of her life, but she had to go on. Heck, life went on, and through the tragedy, she’d learned to embrace life one day at a time. One step at a time.

“I can see why the lilies were so important to add.” He gestured toward the drawing and back.

“And it’s perfect, so thank you again for knowing exactly what I needed it to be.” It was time for a subject change, and there was no better way than to put the focus back onto him. “You’re amazingly talented. To go from my words to creating this is just—wow. I can’t draw at all.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t be that bad.” He smiled.

Harlow shook her head and chuckled. “I am. Trust me.”

“You’ll have to show me what you’ve got sometime, and I might be able to give you some pointers.”

Her smile broadened. “Maybe I will.”

“It’s a date, then. How about we talk more at your appointment? You know, to finalize the details.” Toby smirked at her, and she could feel her heart beat faster.

“Hey, boss man. You got my girl in here with you?” Mel peeked inside the door and smiled when she spotted the two of them together. “I’ve only got an hour, so we’d better get a move on.”

“You got it.” Harlow tightened her hold on his hand and squeezed back. “And Mr. James? Just so you know, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Is that so?” Toby teased. He stretched his hand out as she stepped further away until they couldn’t hold hands anymore and he was forced to release her.

She stopped in the doorway when they lost contact and winked after she waved goodbye.

***

“What was all of that about?” Mel hardly gave her a chance to sit down before she was on her. They’d gone to a little mom-and-pop diner down the road and managed to grab a booth by the window.

“What was what about?” Harlow avoided eye contact and decided to look at the menu.

“Don’t play coy with me.” Her friend chuckled. “There were some major sparks between the two of you in there.” She rubbed her hands together with excitement.

“It was nothing much, really.” Harlow put the menu down and bit her lip. “Okay, it was not nothing. The other night, I described what I was hoping for in a tattoo, and Toby nailed it. It’s beautiful, even better than I imagined it could be, and I got a little emotional for a minute. Lily would have loved it, Mel, and I can’t thank you enough for getting my foot in the door. You weren’t kidding about how busy you all are over there. It was a mad house today.”

“It’s certainly entertaining. The men come in because they know we dish out quality work and a few were fans of the show. Most of the women, however, come hoping to catch the guys’ attention or are hoping to catch a glimpse of Love the Sinner. Ash and the boys are in frequently when they’re not touring, and if you think it was busy today, try showing up on a day those guys are in house. Last time we had to have the cops there to control the crowd outside.” The waitress showed up to take their order, and once she was out of earshot, Mel continued. “I knew Toby would get it right. He’s the best, but I am sorry it brought up so much for you. I can’t even begin to imagine losing a child like you did. Want to talk about it?”

“Uh, no.” She took a sip of water the waitress had dropped off and elaborated further. “I appreciate the offer, Melody. Really, I do, but I’d much rather just enjoy this lunch with you and give you this.” She pushed an envelope toward her. “Grief is a passage that never ends, but it has a chance to change through stages, and it’s up to us whether we accept them or not. I’d like to think I have. Losing my daughter was a hard road to go down, and it’s something I’ll never get over. But, at the same time, I’d like to think I’m stronger for it in a way. Many see grief as a weakness or a lack of faith, but I’d like to think it’s the price you pay for loving someone, and it’s worth the risk to do it. My heart will never be as whole as it was with Lily, but I also know she’d want me to be happy. Here I am, trying my best to lead by example and make my daughter proud by helping others because it’s what I enjoy. I struggle sometimes, though, and speaking of—” She pointed to the letter in her friend’s hand. “It sounds like your Mr. Idiosyncratic is having a hard time of it, too. He’s very lucky to have you, and I hope this helps. If you’d like a list of resources, I can get one for you, and heck, if you think he’d be willing, I’d talk to him myself, if that’s the route he’d be more comfortable with. Just let me know if there is anything more I can do, all right?”

“Will do. It’s much appreciated.” Mel lifted the sealed envelope with Harlow’s reply before tucking it safely inside her bag. “I’ll read this over and try to figure out the next step.”

“Good idea.” Their food came, and they spent the rest of their time idly chatting about random, less heartbreaking things, while they ate and made plans to call Calista for another night out soon to celebrate taking the leap again. Only this time, Harlow wanted Mel to invite Diamond, too.

Chapter Eight

Dear Harlow:

I confronted my boyfriend because I thought he was cheating. When I brought it up, he denied it at first. Later, he admitted to a onetime thing, and he promised he wouldn’t do it again. I’m devastated, but I love him. What should I do?

~Confused in Minnesota~

*

Dear Confused:

It sounds self-explanatory to me. He denied it and told you it wouldn’t happen again? I’d go with your gut. If there is no trust, there isn’t much of a relationship to hold onto.

I wish you all the best,

Harlow.

***

Toby

“You ready for this?”

He watched Harlow nod as he applied the stencil to her skin. This was it. She was taking a leap to pretty up her physical scars, and he was proud to be helping her out with that. He knew all too well how hard it was to deal with the death of someone you loved, and he admired her strength. “Okay, I’ll need you to look in the mirror right there and you can let me know if the placement on your skin is right for you. Then we can get started.”

“It really is quite big, isn’t it?” She smiled and looked at it in awe through the reflection of the glass. “As I said, perfect, though.” Harlow turned around and sat back on the chair. “Let’s do this.”

“You’re a brave woman,” Toby remarked, and he meant it in more ways than one. She was watching him as he slipped on gloves, removed the sterilized needle from its packaging, and set up. Harlow’s skin was smooth and so soft to the touch. She was naked from the waist up except for her bra. She trembled slightly as he leaned in closer to start, and he felt like he needed to tread carefully and walk her through it, considering it was her first time. “I’ll need you to lie back on your side for me and keep that arm away from the area we’re working on, so with that in mind, position yourself in a way that makes you comfortable.” He continued as she adjusted her position. “I won’t lie and tell you this tickles, because it sure as hell doesn’t. You’re going to feel pain and discomfort. The ribs are especially sensitive. After about five or ten minutes, your endorphins should kick in, and it’ll ease the feeling some, hopefully. If at any time you need a break, just say so and we can take five.”

“Okay, how long do you think it’ll take?” Harlow tucked her hands under her head to get comfortable, and it gave him just enough room to proceed.

“Two, maybe three hours. We won’t overdo it this time. We’ll just stick with the outline today. Let’s give it some time to heal and schedule you back within a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish it off with some shading and color.”

“Sounds good to me.” She took a deep breath in and out. “Thanks, Toby. I really mean it. You’ll never know how much this means to me, especially with you fitting me in on your time off.”

“People like you are the reason I do what I do. You make me feel like I’m making a difference, but I’m just an artist doing what I love. I’m honored, though.”

“Right.” She smiled.

The buzz of his tattoo gun filled the room, and it was music to his ears. He was in the zone and ready to get down to business. Harlow flinched and let out a hiss of pain the moment his needle penetrated her skin, but she was a trooper.

“What made you decide to go through with it?” Toby asked. There was nothing like a good distraction, so he tried to keep his clients talking. It was an effective way to make them feel more at ease. It was also a good way for him to subtly get to know her better.

“Long story short, Calista, my friend, came here to get some work done, and she talked about it non-stop. She was so pleased with the outcome. She’s likeable and makes friends easily. I think it was Carson who did her tattoo, though.” She smiled. “Mel overheard him flirting with Callie, and I guess after a bit of sibling banter and laughter, she struck up a friendship with Melody. She knew I wanted to get something to cover the scars and introduced me to Mel one night at dinner. She told me about this place, insisted I come have a look, and the rest is history.”

“I guess you were impressed, then,” Toby replied.

“You guessed right. This place is great, and so is everyone I’ve met so far. But if I’m going to be completely honest, it was you who helped me take this leap most of all. The moment I saw what you created, I was in love with it.” She grunted as he kept working and listening. “I could picture it in my head. I described it, after all, but it didn’t fully come together until I saw it on paper for the first time. I’m probably not even making sense, huh?”

“No, I get it.” He chuckled. “I swear, my head swells every time I see you. I appreciate the compliments. Keep them coming.”

“Right. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind for the next time,” she teased.

The buzzing continued, and he heard Harlow breathing heavily. “You’re doing great. Be sure to let me know if you need a minute.”

“I’m good.”

“No doubt.” He shook his head. “Tell me about your little girl.” He could feel her body stiffen, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to her physical discomfort or because he asked about her daughter.

Way to go, dipshit. Who wants to talk about hard shit? Ask about her daughter. She’ll probably think about her death.

“Or not. Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

He could feel the second her body relaxed for him, then she put him at ease. “No, it’s okay, I guess. What is it you’d like to know?”

“Not sure. Anything you’d like to share.”

“Okay, well, Lily Jane Ross was born September 19, 2012, and I fell in love with her before I even laid eyes on her. I swear, the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I’d always wanted to become a mother. The first time I heard her heartbeat, my own heart swelled with excitement. It was miraculous. She was a whopping nine pounds, two ounces and absolutely perfect in my eyes. She was the sweetest. I swear it.”

“Sounds like it,” he said. “Big baby, too.”

Harlow shrugged but didn’t reply. She continued with her own descriptions. “She got that from her father’s side, I think. He was about your height. Six-three or so, but I didn’t know as much as I would’ve liked to about his side of the family. The moment I got pregnant, he wanted no part of it, but that’s another story altogether.” She paused. “I close my eyes, and I can still see her curly blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and when she smiled, she had the cutest little dimple in her left cheek.”

“Sounds like a beautiful memory to keep.” Toby scooted his chair closer.

“A memory, yeah.” She sniffed. “What I wouldn’t give to have her be a reality again.”

Toby gulped but didn’t say a word. He knew exactly how she felt. The angst was in the air, thick with emotion, both hers and his combined. It was beginning to be too much, and he had to concentrate.

“Well, I was happy to do this for you. Now tell me what Harlow Ross is like.”

“Oh God.” She groaned. “Well, for one, I hate being put on the spot.”

Toby chuckled. “Aren’t you in the public eye, normally? You do write a popular column for Twin City, right?”

“I do, but it doesn’t really work that way. Writing is a subtler way to get to know me. I choose what I’d like to share. But I love that it also allows me to get to know my readers as well when they write in. I mostly get to work from home, and when I do get recognized, it’s usually through a mutual acquaintance. I’m not as big a celebrity as you are. Come on.”

Call it a hunch, but he knew she was smiling for him. “Oh, you think so? If I recall, you didn’t know who I was when we met,” he teased.

“Yeah, but I also don’t watch much television. If I’m not working, I’m escaping inside a book.”

“You’re so refreshing, Harlow Ross. Let’s see what I’ve learned so far. You’re, what, five-five, maybe a buck fifteen or twenty? Brunette, curvy in all the right places, sexy, and cute. You’re also smart, have a great career you clearly enjoy, and good friends. You don’t watch TV, but you like to read. You’re career driven, a family woman, you love fiercely, and you’re nice to talk to. Oh, and before today, you were a tattoo virgin. Am I missing anything?”

“Wow,” she mumbled.

“And clearly humble.” Toby smiled.

“You got all that from the few brief times I’ve run into you?”

“I pay attention. I’m good at reading people, too.” He shrugged, wiped her skin with a paper towel, and leaned back to dip the needle in more ink. “I could tell you were a good one.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time,” she remarked. “Honest to God.”

“Nothing sweet about me, but you want to think that way, knock yourself out.” Toby grinned.

“Okay.” She nodded. “So how about you tell me more about Toby James this time?”

Chapter Nine

Harlow

“Not that interesting. Trust me,” he replied.

“I find that hard to believe.” She scrunched her face up and tried to breathe through the pain. It hurt like a bitch, but the result would be so worth it. Misfit Tattoo was not what she’d expected a tattoo parlor to be. She had pictured fat, hairy biker guys with beer bellies wearing too-small jeans that would show their asses anytime they bent over or sat down. She had pictured a dive building with questionable people who had piercings and mohawks and rainbow-colored hair. A total stereotype and cliché way of thinking and she was ashamed she’d thought that way.

Misfit was beautiful. A new construction building with blue walls covered in artwork, dark hardwood floors, a counter with a granite top, and a digital POS system. There was a big, red, neon sign that read ‘BLANK CANVAS’ in the back. Mel had told her it was the sign from the old shop that burned down. They had a cool break room with a TV, a gaming console, and plush chairs. Leather seating adorned the lobby area for people who had to wait around. The tattooists were gorgeous, especially Toby. They all had amazing personalities and were extremely talented tattooists. She had been wrong on every account. Yes, there was ink, piercings, and colorful hair, but it was refreshing. Every client had privacy. It was exceptionally clean, and it was strictly professional at all times. She looked around the room and admired the posters, pictures, and signed memorabilia on the walls. “You described what you thought of me, so let’s see if I can do the same for you.”

“Be my guest,” he replied.

“Okay.” She was breathless for a second because of a particularly sore spot on her skin. “Toby James is a successful businessman who works hard and is passionate about what he does. You’re engrossed in the art you create for others. You’re a sentimental man, you have great friends and co-workers who care about you, and I have a feeling you love fiercely, as well. A family man too, perhaps? You work out regularly, from what I can tell about your physique. You’re tall, big, and muscular. You have brown hair and the darkest eyes. They’re quite nice to look at, I’ll admit. Handsome, clearly, sexy as you put it, but I can also tell you’re going through something big. Let’s chalk it up to one lost soul recognizing another. How am I doing so far?”

“I’m impressed.” Toby sounded amused. “Think I’m sexy, huh?”

“Is that all you got from what I said?” She rolled her eyes.

Moving on!

“I like your posters. Is it all from Love the Sinner?”

“Yeah, Ash and I are tight.”

“Mel was telling me Ash Harris was a relative of yours. They visit often?”

“He is, and when they can. Depends on the length of their tour and what new album they’re working on.” He sounded wary.

“They’re a great band. Total fan over here.”

“They all are,” he said in a clipped tone, and she wondered if she offended him somehow.

“Everything okay?”

Toby sighed, and she could hear his chair slide back. He wiped at her skin again and went back to finishing the outline.

“Toby?”

“Look, you seem like a nice chick, so I’ll give it to you straight. If you’re a groupie looking for an in with the band, you’ll have to get in line. Don’t know when Ash is coming back, but I’m sure Mel will give you a heads-up anyway. Good luck with the crowd because it gets pretty crazy around here when the boys step in. Not in the habit of playing ‘who gets to hook up with my cousin.’ If that’s your game, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Ash has no trouble getting his own pussy. Never has. We clear?”

She could feel her whole body heat with both embarrassment and fury that he’d automatically make that assumption. Her? A groupie? It was laughable. She hadn’t been on a date in over a year. Hadn’t gotten laid in almost five. But he wouldn’t know that, so it was time to set the record straight.

She winced and clenched her jaw to keep her anger in check. “Have you ever heard the expression ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

“Huh?”

“Okay, timeout for a second,” she said.

Toby rolled back so she could sit up and look him in the eye.

“Heard the expression, have you?”

“Yeah, who hasn’t?” he said, looking at her warily.

“Okay, well, I’m repeating it because you just made assumptions about me that were completely out of line. Here I am, laying here, having a conversation that you started, by the way. I’m not sure where it went wrong, but clearly it did. I liked your posters. They’re cool, and I happen to be a fan of someone you’re related to. It’s not every day you meet someone with famous relatives. Their music is good. I listen, so sue me. I am not some groupie, nor will I ever be. I meet your cousin one day, great. I get an autograph. I have no interest in hooking up with him. I don’t meet him, that’s fine too. It’s not something I’ll lose sleep over.”

“Babe.” Toby shook his head.

“Babe? Babe!” She threw her hands up in the air, on the verge of giving up. “What kind of answer is that? I’m not sure what type of women you’re used to, but FYI, I’m not one of them, Toby. I don’t use people, I don’t like to lie, and I definitely don’t like to be classified in that category, so next time, just ask if I have a hidden agenda. Don’t assume.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Careful there.” Toby loosened her arms and held her hand. “I apologize for offending you, seriously. Women come in here all the time for Ash and try to cozy up to one of us for an intro, hoping to catch his eye. You’re the first genuine woman I’ve seen in a long time who isn’t like family to me. When you brought up Ash, I began to wonder if you were like all the rest. Glad to know you aren’t.”

“Are we almost done here?” She exhaled loudly and looked away.

“Halfway.” His reply was automatic. He let go of her hand and reached up to cup the side of her face. “I’m sorry, Harlow. Forgive me?”

“Forgiven.” She nodded. “What do you say we put on some music for the rest of it? Not sure I’m in the mood to talk anymore.”

“Music, sure.” Toby got up, plugged in his iPhone, and his cousin’s latest song hit the speakers. It was back to business. She was halfway there, and the remaining time spent on the outline was silent, except for the buzz in the air and the low volume tunes she had requested.

Toby James was a beautifully complicated man, and she really wanted to figure him out.

Chapter Ten

Harlow

“How’d it go?” Calista asked.

It had been a couple of days since her first tattoo session with Toby, and Harlow was at Fanny’s with the girls to let loose. They were sharing some wings and having a few beers to unwind. “Good, I guess.” She shrugged. “But it’s so itchy. It’s driving me nuts.”

“Moisturizer,” Dee commented.

Melody chimed in. “Keep putting lotion on the skin. Lots and lots of lotion, but no matter what, do not scratch, and for the love of God, leave the scabs alone. Wash with soap and water, then moisturize the hell out of that bitch.”

Harlow pulled out a small bottle of Aveeno cream from her purse and smiled. “Don’t leave home without it.”

Callie laughed. “Good. Now get up and let’s have a look. If it’s itchy now, I’ll even put some on for you, if you want.”

Harlow sighed but decided, what the hell? They wanted to see it, so she’d get it over with now. She’d only be showing her midriff, not any of her lady bits. She looked around the place, and nobody seemed to be paying attention to them anyway, so she stood, lifted the side of her shirt, and lowered the top part of her jeans a couple of inches. “Toby said we’d be meeting up within the next couple of weeks to finish it. Last session was just the outline.”

“Damn, girl. That’s hot.” Mel grinned.

Dee nodded in agreement. “Very nice.”

“Oh, Har.” Calista stood back to admire it. “It’s amazing.”

“I thought so, too.” Harlow beamed. “Toby’s talent has no limits.”

“Don’t tell him that.” Dee snorted.

“Too late.”

Well, shoot! Speak of the devil…

Harlow quickly righted her clothing and spun around at the sound of his deep timber. “Toby?” His name came out breathless, and she flinched.

Woman, pull yourself together.

Toby’s grin was all teeth. He stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulders as they faced the group. “Complimenting me even when I’m not around? I like it.” He winked at her and addressed the others with, “This woman right here has officially become one of my favorite people.”

Carson chuckled, and Rebel just shook his head, looking amused yet again at her expense.

“Get in line,” Calista said. “She’s been one of my favorites for years.”

“Phoenix!” Carson cheered. “How’s it going?”

“Phoenix?” Rebel arched a brow.

Calista rolled up her sleeve to show them the phoenix on her forearm. “Carson gave me this a little while back.”

“Sure did.” Carson moved around the table to step next to her friend. “Hey, baby. For some reason, I was feeling a little off today. But one look at you, and I’m definitely turned on now.” He grinned, and Harlow busted out laughing.

“Knock it off.” Mel grimaced. “You’re going to make me sick.”

“Okay, then.” Rebel clapped his hands together. “I’m thirsty. Anyone need a top up?”

“I could use one,” Dee said.

“You got it!” Rebel winked at her.

“Drinks for everyone,” Toby remarked as he squeezed Harlow’s shoulder before he stepped away. He looked her in the eye then said, “Be right back.”

And she melted. Damn. That man was sex on legs, and he knew it too. She was in so much trouble.

***

Toby

“What’s up with you and Hottie Harlow?” Carson asked.

Toby, Reb, and Carson stood by the bar, waiting for Fanny to fill their drink orders.

“What’s it to you?” Toby crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“Relax, bro. Just noticed you haven’t been able to take your eyes off her is all. She’s a nice piece. You don’t want in, I’d be happy to give her a go.”

“I would too, in a heartbeat.” Rebel snorted. “But something tells me she’s already been claimed.” He smacked Toby’s shoulder playfully and turned back to the bar.

“The hell you say.” Carson looked at Rebel strangely, and it made Toby stiffen his posture. “Seriously, dude. Look at her. She may look like an angel, but I bet she fucks like the devil. It’s the best of both worlds.”

“Enough,” Toby warned. “Harlow is off limits to both of you.”

Carson chuckled. “Guess we’re not sharing this one, huh?”

“What’d I just say?”

“I hear you.” Carson put his hands up in surrender and took a step back. “Congratulations, man. It’s about damn time.”

“The fuck you on about?” Toby got in his face, and Rebel intervened.

“Nothing, Tob, he isn’t going to mess with your girl, and neither am I. Just happy for you, man.”

“Not my girl, but this one is different.” He sighed as he tried to explain to them what he wasn’t quite sure of himself yet. He raked his hands through his hair and gave up for the time being. Their drinks were up anyway, so it was time to make their way back to the table and to the woman who had him all tied up in knots.

Here goes nothing.

“Peace offering.” Toby pulled the chair beside Harlow and got comfortable as he handed her a refill. He’d bought the whole table a round.

“For what?” She smiled and took his offering.

“I was an ass the other day.” He took a chug of beer and winked. “Not often I admit that.”

“I bet.” When she smiled, he noticed her eyes had a sparkle to them. They were such a piercing shade of green, it was becoming his new favorite color.

“Friends then?” He held out his hand to shake hers, and she obliged.

“Friends,” she repeated.

“What’s this I hear about you being an ass?” Mel propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward.

“Shit!”

“Now you’ve done it.” Harlow winked. She then answered Mel so he wouldn’t have to. “At my appointment, we were having good conversation until about half way through the outline. I was remarking about the posters and memorabilia Toby had on his walls for Love the Sinner, mentioned I was a fan, and Toby not-so-politely assumed I was a groupie. Long story short, I set him straight, and he apologized and explained about most of the women who stop by the shop to get into Ash’s pants.”

She faced him and gave his arm a squeeze. “Thanks for the gesture, but no peace offering was necessary. I appreciate it, though.”

“We never did get a chance to make plans. We were supposed to so I could check out your mad drawing skills, remember?”

“You can draw?” Carson asked her. Then he looked at Toby. “She can draw?”

“No.” Harlow snickered. “Nothing more than a stick figure, maybe. I totally suck.”

“We’ll see.” He smirked. “How about dinner Thursday? I’ll check my calendar and figure out when I can fit you into the schedule so we can finish that tatt.”

“You’re on.” She beamed, and he could feel it in his chest when she looked at him that way. He’d have to tread carefully with this one, otherwise it could be damaging to his heart. It was still filled with Carley, and he wasn’t ready to let that go yet. Harlow was different, all right. She was the whole package.

A package that could be trouble if he wasn’t careful.

So, cheers to friendship!

He took another big gulp of his beer.

Chapter Eleven

Three years earlier

In the Blink of An Eye

By Harlow Ross

January 2015 Issue

A few months ago, I was approached by this magazine with the chance to launch an advice/help column, and it came to me at an opportune time in my life. You see, I was looking for a change. I desperately needed one in my life, and I’ll soon tell you why.

But first, I’d like to take an opportunity to announce how much I’m looking forward to getting to know you all as you get to know me before we get to all the heavy stuff I’m about to share.

So, for this column, my very first, I thought I’d take the leap with something different from the typical advice columnist norm. I’m going to give you me.

I think it’s important to establish a rapport as we go forward.

You ready?

Hi Readers, my name is Harlow Ross, and it’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m currently twenty-six, and I was born and raised in Fresno, California. I have a psychology degree from Stanford University, which I put to good use when I landed a job at St. Paul’s Family Services in this great city shortly after graduation.

I come from a wonderful family. My parents have been happily married for the last thirty years. I have one sister who I adore, and I once had the most beautiful daughter in the world. She was my everything. Until one evening, in the blink of an eye, my whole world changed. Completely shattered, destroyed.

It was a nightmare that’ll forever haunt me.

I’m not sure if any of you can recall reading about it, but about a year ago, almost to the day, I got hit by a drunk driver, and it cost me my life as I once knew it. I was critical, they tell me, yet I somehow survived my injuries. My two-year-old daughter, however, wasn’t so lucky. My precious Lily was just gone. So, as I take a deep breath while I write this because it’s still so hard, I’d like to honor her by telling you all a little about her.

I fell in love with my daughter before I ever laid eyes on her. I’ve always wanted to be a mother, and although Lily came into my life a bit sooner than I originally planned, she was my everything. The first time I heard her heartbeat was phenomenal. My own heart swelled with excitement. She was my miracle. I had her in the fall of 2013 at the healthy weight of nine pounds two ounces. She was perfect in my eyes, so sweet, really. I close my eyes and I can still see her smiling face, hear her giggle, and see her curly blonde hair, sparkling green eyes much like my own, and she had the cutest little dimple on her left cheek. Lily loved the outdoors, especially the swings at the park, and her favorite hobby was to color pretty pictures for our refrigerator. She was curious by nature and had questions for almost everything because everything seemed to fascinate her. I was honored to be her mother. I am honored still. So, for Lily, I continue to go on to the best of my ability because I know she’d want her mommy to be happy.

And helping people makes me happy, so here I am, making a change in my life at a time I feel good enough to try something new and exciting.

Welcome to Harlow Helps, everyone. It’s the newest column here at Twin City Women’s Magazine. I truly look forward to hearing from you all.

All my best,

Harlow

***

Toby

Toby ran a hand down the front of his face and leaned back in his chair as he finished reading Harlow’s first article from three years ago. It was an impulsive move to look her up online and read an article or two, but he couldn’t help himself. He was all alone at home with nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, and she made him curious.

He took a big breath and exhaled heavily as he picked up his phone and debated whether it was a good time to call her. They’d made plans, and it was only right that he called to confirm. He thought about it, and well, it was the excuse he was going with.

He felt connected to Harlow somehow, probably because she understood his grief. What was wrong with making another friend? A hot, sexy, fucking gorgeous friend. Shit, it’d be so much easier if she didn’t make him nervous because of how attracted he was to her.

You can do this, shit head. You loved Carley. Still do, right? Carley, Carley, Carley…Damn, baby. I miss you.

“Fuck me!” he growled. Toby stood up so fast his chair knocked over, and he began to pace. “Get a grip, dude.” He threw his hands in the air and gripped his cell phone tighter. “Crazy ass, talkin’ to yourself. Just make the call.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, he dialed the number she had left at the shop and rubbed the back of his neck as it rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Harlow, it’s Toby. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for tomorrow night.”

“Dinner, right?” she said, and he could swear she was smiling as she said it, too. Don’t ask him how. It was just a feeling.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was hoping.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, then.” She sounded happy, and it made his own mouth twitch just hearing it.

“Good to hear. There are no allergies I need to worry about, are there?”

“Not from me,” she replied. “Where are you taking me? So I’ll know what to wear.”

“I was thinking Mecca’s on Richfield. Shit, I hope you’re not vegetarian.”

“Ooh, nice, and nope. You’re good once again. I totally love a good steak.” She practically purred, and his dick twitched.

Shit!

“Toby?” She said his name like it was a question when he grew quiet for a minute.

“Still here.” He sighed and rubbed the stubble against his jaw. “It’s getting late. I should probably go.”

“Okay,” she whispered, as if she sensed his inner dilemma. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Can you meet me at the shop around seven?”

“Sure. I look forward to it.” He could hear her exhale on the other end. “Sweet dreams, Toby.”

“I wish. Night, Harlow.”

Fuck! Did I just say that out loud? I wish? Really?

Toby disconnected the call before she could say any more and tossed the phone onto his coffee table. Sleep evaded him, and he didn’t feel like going out. He decided to do the next best thing instead by picking up his sketch pad and letting his pencil take control. With thoughts of a certain hottie columnist-slash-psychologist-slash-kindred spirit on his mind, it was no wonder the picture turned out to be her in the end.

He was fucked. Well and truly fucked.

Chapter Twelve

Harlow

Each season had its own distinct characteristics, and because she lived in the Upper Midwest, they had such a wide variety of weather from one extreme to another. The winters were freezing, the fall and spring were damp, and the summers were hot, period. There seemed to be no in between.

The sun shone brightly on this mid-July evening, and Harlow had to place a hand on her forehead to block out its rays. She opened her car door and stepped out.

Here goes nothing.

She stood on the asphalt parking lot in front of Misfit, ready to meet Toby. Her nerves were starting to get the best of her, and she took a deep breath to settle them as she shut the door behind her. At the click of a button, her car beeped to indicate the locks had engaged. She reached into her purse to grab her shades and put them on. This felt so much like a date, and she hadn’t been on one of those in God knew how long. She honestly couldn’t remember, but she also knew deep down that Toby probably didn’t feel the same way. This was business to him. Mostly. Probably. Maybe.

“Harlow!”

She started and placed a hand to her chest.

“Up here, babe.” She looked to see Toby waving from the side of the building, and she headed toward him.

“Hey, you.” She smiled when she reached the stairs.

“Come on up.” He gestured for her to follow him as he disappeared behind a door she never noticed before now. Not that she’d been to Misfit very often.

“You live here too?” she asked.

The view of the spacious loft apartment above the shop was unexpected, but she had to admit, it was a cool space to be in. It was bright and airy with several large industrial windows. There were light-colored, hardwood floors throughout, and it was so open she could pretty much see everything all at once. There, in the far-right corner, was a large, plush-looking, king-sized bed. Yep, leave it to her to zoom in on his bedroom right from the get-go. She held back a groan and looked around. The opposite end of the room held a small but modern kitchen with white granite counter tops, dark grey cupboards, stainless steel appliances which included a gas stove. A small, two-seater wooden table was nearby, followed by a cozy living room. Classic artwork decorated his walls, which she assumed was his own work, and there were a few personal pictures scattered about.

“Yeah. Pretty convenient, huh?” Toby peeked his head out from behind the only other door in the place, so she guessed it was the bathroom.

“I like it.” She gave him a slight nod of agreement and rubbed nervous hands down the sides of her dress as if she were trying to smooth out some non-existent wrinkles in the fabric. She took a deep breath and straightened her posture to exude confidence, at least outwardly.

Toby walked out of the bathroom and smiled. “Sorry about that. I spilled some coffee earlier, so I needed a quick change before we go.” He looked her up and down appreciatively. “You look beautiful.”

He reached out to touch her hair, curled a strand of it around his finger, and let go. “I’ve never seen it done up before.”

She shrugged. Her hair was pinned up loosely to get it off her shoulders, and a few strands were left loose in the front. “I don’t get out much. I guess I got carried away and dressed up.” She gestured to her summer dress and her hair.

“I’m flattered. Thank you.” Toby winked, and she blushed. He grabbed a set of keys from the coffee table and placed his hand on her lower back to guide her out. “I figured you could leave your ride here and we’d take my Jeep.”

“S-sure.” As they descended the stairs, Harlow admired his tight ass encased in cargo shorts. He wore a light t-shirt that fit just snug enough to outline the muscles of his back and chest perfectly. She checked her mouth for drool and sighed. Toby was made for temptation—completely delectable—a man of sex, sin, and fun. But he was also fiercely loyal, hardworking, and he loved hard once he let down those walls. Anyone could tell if they looked close enough. It was the way he took pride in the shop, the hours he put into it, and the way he acted when he was around the people he was closest to, like Mel, Carson, Dee, and Rebel. She imagined it was the same with Ash, too.

“Here we are.” He turned to face her once he stopped in front of his own ride, but it wasn’t the Jeep that caught her attention or the man she’d been fantasizing about just a moment before. It was the badass Harley parked to his right.

“No way.” Harlow moved around him and lovingly caressed the satin chrome finishes. “My father had one of these when I was growing up, and I used to love riding with him.” She cherished those memories.

“I’ll have to take you out on it sometime.” Toby smirked as he watched her reaction.

“It’s yours?” she asked. “Don’t tease me, now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And here I had to go and wear a dress,” she pouted. “We could’ve gone for a ride tonight.”

“Gives us another excuse to get together again, now doesn’t it?”

“It’s a date!” she exclaimed. “I’m really going to look forward to it, too.”

“Good to know,” he said. “Ready to hit the road?”

“If we must.” She sighed, took one last longing look toward the black Fat Boy, and hopped into the waiting Jeep.

Her updo was less than perfect once they arrived at the restaurant, but it was worth it to have the top down and feel the wind course through her hair during the drive. There was something liberating about throwing her hands up, closing her eyes, and enjoying the feel of the elements that surrounded her without a care in the world. It was both relaxing and freeing at once.

Toby got out and quickly made his way to her side to help her out. He searched her face and smirked as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re remarkable. You know that?”

“That’s me,” Harlow replied with more confidence than she felt. Her stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly. “Apparently, I’m also hungry.”

“I see that,” Toby said. “Shall we?”

She took his arm and followed him across the parking lot.

Mecca’s was an oasis of rustic elegance. From the wooden ceiling, to the dimly lit crystal chandeliers above each table. There was light, plush carpeting, a coat room, which they didn’t need, and a long bar on the right side of the foyer. To the left stood a very refined-looking hostess.

“Reservation for James, party of two,” she overheard Toby say as she admired their surroundings.

“Yes, follow me.”

She was met with the warmth of Toby’s hand at her lower back again and couldn’t help but shiver at the contact as they followed behind the hostess until they reached their table. At that moment, he pulled her chair out for her, and she smiled widely. “Such a gentleman.”

“Not often.” Toby cleared his throat. “I’m a little rusty.” The tinge of pink in his cheeks was endearing.

“Do you come here often? It’s a great spot for a date.”

And there comes the verbal vomit.

Now it was her turn to blush as she continued to stammer. “Um, not that tonight is a date or anything. It’s just…” She gestured around them and left the sentence hanging.

“I get you.” Toby placed his hand on top of hers from across the table to stop her from fidgeting. “You’re different, and I wanted to take you some place nice. End of story.”

“Different how?” she asked. “I’m just a regular girl, taking life one day at a time. Like the rest of you.”

“See, that’s were your wrong.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “From the moment we met, I could tell you were different than what I was used to. You’re smart and beautiful and one of the strongest women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. I know loss, Harlow. It’s not the same as yours exactly, but it still fucks me up. You, on the other hand,” he shrugged, “I guess when I see you, I see what hope looks like. You’ve hit bottom and crawled back to the top. You help people and honor your daughter’s memory. I see it, and I admire you for it.”

It was her turn to reach out to him. She took his hand in hers and leaned forward. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I think I might cry.”

“Shit, please don’t.” He rubbed the hand she wasn’t holding across his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“They’d be happy tears, I promise.” She blinked a few times to gain composure. “But I won’t. If there is anything I can do for you, if ever you need to talk…”

Toby nodded, but he didn’t have a chance to answer. The waiter approached to get their drink orders, and when he left again, the amazingly complicated man across from her changed the subject.

“You know what you want?” He picked up the menu to study it, so she followed suit and did the same.

“The filet mignon looks good, with the rosemary-roasted potatoes and glazed carrots on the side.”

He nodded as he closed the menu. “I’m going with the porterhouse, medium, with a side of sweet potato fries.”

“Good choice.” Harlow took a sip of water. “Were you able to check your schedule? The outline healed well. At least the itching has stopped, but I’ve been applying lotion liberally.”

“Uh, yeah, but I left it at home. You mind coming up for a few when we’re done here? You still need to show me those mad drawing skills, remember?”

“Oh, no,” she grimaced. “You really want to see my stick figures that badly?”

“I do.” He chuckled, and it was nice to see him at ease again. When she asked how he thought she was different, she hadn’t expected such a sweet answer.

Their drinks arrived, their orders were soon placed, and in the meantime, they played a game of twenty questions to get to know one another. It was fun, they kept it light, and she soon learned his favorite color used to be blue, but now it was green, for some reason. Besides Love the Sinner, his favorite band was Shinedown. He was a Minnesota native. He’d known Carson and Mel since childhood. Out of all his family, he was closest to his cousin Ash, and he’d always aspired to be a tattooist.

They ate, they talked, they laughed, and they toasted to new beginnings, memories, and friendship together.

It was a great time.

Chapter Thirteen

Dear Harlow:

Let me start by saying my boyfriend and I have been together for a year now, and we work together but in different departments. Things have been going well enough, but there’s this new girl at work who keeps flirting with him and it’s pissing me off. What should I do?

~Jealousy Sucks, Minnesota Girl~

*

Dear Minnesota Girl:

Jealousy does suck, but it’s a common emotion. My question is: how does your boyfriend react to this flirting? It’s hard to give you the right advice when I don’t know the whole story. Go with your gut. If he’s engaging in an inappropriate manner with this woman, then that’s being disrespectful. Kick him to the curb. But if he’s innocent in this and doesn’t appreciate her advances, then maybe you should both talk to her so she’ll knock it off. If that doesn’t work out, you may have to report it to human resources.

Good luck,

Harlow

***

Toby

Harlow sat on Toby’s couch, waiting as he grabbed them a drink from the kitchen. Toby also snatched his calendar on the way and soon returned to sit next to her. His heart felt like it stuttered as he saw her face light up when she looked at him. “Here’s your beer.”

“Thank you,” she said as she took a sip before placing the bottle on the wooden coffee table in front of them. She smoothed out her dress where it touched her thighs, and he gulped before clearing his throat. Toby looked away for a minute and came back to his senses. It was too quiet for his liking.

Then talk, dumbass!

“Right, so, about that appointment…” He opened his schedule and flipped through the pages. “I’ve got an opening Friday, next week. Would you be available?”

“What time?” Harlow asked as she reached for her purse on the next cushion and rummaged through it to grab her phone. She scrolled through, and he didn’t answer her until she seemed ready for it.

“Evening work for you? I’ve got a six-thirty open. If not, we can do the following Tuesday at three.”

“Friday’s good.” She smiled, typed it into her phone as a reminder, and dumped the cell back into her bag again.

“Next Friday night’s all yours, then,” he confirmed as he pencilled her in.

“After this tattoo, are you free to take me for that ride, too?” She turned to face him and held her hands together, looking hopeful. It made him laugh. She was so darn cute.

“Got the hots for my Harley, do you?”

“I totally do,” she said. “Me and that Fat Boy need to be introduced properly. I should take a picture of me standing beside it and send it to my dad. It would absolutely make his day. Did you know he still has the one he used to take me out on in his garage? He doesn’t get to take it out as much as he used to, though.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Toby asked.

“Now that they’re retired, Mom likes to travel abroad. They’re gone half the year.”

“Happy wife, happy life,” he commented then took a drink.

“About that bike ride…can we?” She brought her hands up and pretended to beg.

“I could swing it. I ride all the time, and believe me, it is not a chore to take a beautiful woman along.” He winked, and she blushed. He loved her reactions to such a simple compliment, and it was kind of nice to know he affected her that way. The attraction was certainly mutual, no matter how much he tried to fight it. “As long as you don’t mind riding at night. You’ll be my last appointment for the day, and the tattoo will take some time to finish, but afterward, I’d be free to take you anywhere.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Harlow nodded and stood up. She took her beer with her and walked to the opposite wall. He watched her closely as she admired the artwork, and he could tell she was suddenly nervous. He stood up to follow, and she stiffened when he spoke. “I did that in an art class I took in my early twenties, just for fun.” He motioned toward the canvas, which showed an attractive, shapely woman laying down on a chaise with nothing but a blanket covering her lower half. “I don’t normally paint. I prefer to draw, but I liked this one, so I put it up.”

“I-it’s beautiful.” she whispered, not looking at him. Then she chugged the rest of her beer.

“Hey, are you okay?” Toby reached out to her, gently took a hold of her arm, and turned her so she faced him again.

“You really want me to draw for you?” she asked. “Your work is so amazing, and I could never be as good.”

“Are you nervous because I wanted to see how well you drew a picture?” She had a way of catching him off-guard. “I’d never make you do something you’re uncomfortable with; no pressure. You know that, right?”

She nodded again and took a deep breath. “It’s not that, per se. Oh, to hell with it. Hand me a pad of paper and a pencil and tell me what you want me to draw. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

“You sure?” He had to make certain. Something was going on in that head of hers, and she wasn’t sharing whatever that seemed to be.

“I might need another one of those, but yeah, I’m good.” Harlow pointed to her empty drink and smiled. “Thanks, Toby.”

“I think I can manage that request, too. Just promise to drink this one slower for me, will you?”

It took no longer than a minute or two before they were back where they started, sitting side by side on the couch. He pulled the coffee table closer and placed a sketch pad in front of her with a pencil. He tore a sheet off and placed one in front of him, as well, and positioned their drinks out of the way.

“Let’s try a flower. Take your pick.”

“You pick. I insist.” She shook her head and looked at him like he was crazy for leaving it up to her to decide. Another point on the cuteness scale on her behalf. Toby shook his head and smiled.

“All right. Show me your best sunflower, then.” He sat back as she struggled through his request, and it was no joke. Drawing was not her forte. It looked like a sad version of a fuzzy circle with a stick jutting out the bottom.

“You see? It’s the suckiest, saddest flower on the planet.” She pouted.

Toby’s lips twitched, and he fought hard not to laugh because the last thing he wanted was to insult her, so instead, he just brushed it off and decided to help her.

“Okay, let’s try this.” He ripped her picture from the pad, revealing a fresh page. “Sometimes it helps to break it all down into steps. Follow me. First, draw a big circle and a smaller one in the center.” He looked over to make sure she was following his instructions. He was trying to make it as simple as he could, so he was drawing it on his paper as he explained. “Then comes the stem and two leaves on each side of it. Good, now let’s draw a thin, elongated, upside-down heart shape that connects to the smaller circle in the middle all the way around, like so.” It took her a few tries, but she got the hang of it after a few minutes. He continued. “Add more petals like this to cover up the empty spaces in between and draw slanted lines crisscrossed over each other inside the small circle. Now we erase the outer large circle around, define the stem and leaves by adding a few lines like so, and voila! You now have your sunflower complete.” He took his drawing, set it beside hers, and smiled. “Proud of you. That’s a great-looking flower.”

“I actually did it. It’s clear, too.” She laughed as if shocked. “Yay!” She pumped her hands in the air and her face lit up with excitement.

“Fuckin’ adorable.” He shook his head again and was pleasantly shocked when she threw her arms around him in a giant hug. This night was looking up, and the more time he spent with her, the more he seemed to enjoy himself. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone hug him just because, and it was nice.

Chapter Fourteen

Harlow

Once she threw her arms around him, Harlow lost the fight. Earlier, she’d been struggling with her attraction for the man, not knowing whether the feelings were reciprocated. But now that she was so close, she thought, what the heck?

Would it be so terrible to just give in for once? To let go, have some fun, and enjoy the long overdue intimacy between a man and a woman?

She’d soon find out.

Toby’s arms felt so right round her. He was strong, warm, and felt good pressed against her, breast to chest. He was hard all over compared to her soft curves, and she wanted to explore this spark between them to see where they’d end up.

“I know I’ve said it before, but thank you.” Harlow leaned back slightly to look at him. Her arms moved from around his back and rested around his shoulders. She hadn’t wanted to move too far away just yet. She could feel her heart beating inside of her chest as she gauged his reaction to her closeness. Toby licked his lips, and she nearly groaned. “Dinner was sublime. You actually got me to draw a decent enough picture. I’m seriously still shocked that you accomplished that feat.” She smiled. “Just goes to show you how talented you really are, but most importantly, I like your company.” She leaned forward to press her lips against his. He stiffened momentarily as she kissed him softly, one peck and then two. She nibbled on his bottom lip and sucked on it before letting it go with a pop. Toby moaned and wrapped his arms around her tighter. She trembled as he took over the kiss. The moment she felt his tongue, she opened for him. One hand fisted into her hair, while his other held onto the back of her shirt. Toby tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and before she knew it, she was sitting on his lap and dry humping him. It was amazing. Their accelerated breaths mingled, and for the next few minutes, they were nothing but tongue and teeth—totally absorbed.

Toby pulled back, and she was breathless. Her chest heaved, her nipples pebbled, and she was completely enraptured by him. She was in such a Toby-filled fog, it took her a minute to figure out he’d spoken.

“Harlow?”

“Um, yeah?” She bit her lip, and it made him smile.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked. She figured he was mostly talking to himself because he didn’t wait for her to answer. “As amazing as that kiss was, I’m not sure it was such a good idea.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Um…” She licked her lips and wondered what the hell was wrong with her. “It felt good to me.”

“Christ, you don’t even realize how tempting you are.” Toby growled but made no move to push her off his lap. Instead, he placed both hands on her hips and slightly squeezed as if he was having his own internal battle.

Harlow wasn’t even sure how to answer him. Tempting? Her? He needed to look in the mirror. If anyone exuded temptation, it was him. She was so out of her element and clearly doing a shit job at trying to seduce him.

“You’re right,” she replied. “It’s probably a bad idea.” Her face heated with embarrassment, and Toby surprised her yet again.

“With you, it’d be the best kind of bad. Believe me, baby. Fuck being reasonable, one taste and I’m already hooked.” He pulled her forward, so their breath mingled, lips just an inch apart, and whispered, “Not sure I have forever in me anymore, so I can only promise you tonight. You good with that?”

“One day at a time, and no promises,” she whispered back as she closed the distance. The kiss was amazing. So magical, it curled her toes, and butterflies took flight inside her belly with excitement. The guy oozed sex appeal as he devoured her mouth. Harlow fiddled with the hem of his shirt and broke the kiss just long enough for her to get the garment off and throw it behind her. Toby soon did the same with her dress. He got rid of her bra too and began to play with her breasts. He rubbed her erect nipples and palmed her boobs in each hand. They were both half-naked, skin against skin, and it was pure bliss to finally feel him up close, in such a personal way. Tonight was their night, and nothing else mattered for once but this moment with him.

Toby’s lips trailed down her neck, going lower and lower to taste her everywhere. She squealed with delight as he stood, taking her with him to the very large bed on the other side of the room. She bounced as he threw her on it, and he made quick work of pulling off her underwear, too. He stood back and admired the sight of her, so she decided to reciprocate. His tan chest rippled with overlapping muscle, defined pecs, and abs full of ink. A large, shaded, black and white skull sat right above his heart with a background of orange flames. Two roses sat on each shoulder so big it looked like one big piece. It was beautiful. A pair of lips was tattooed along the sexy V that led to the hard cock she was about to play with, with the words Only God can judge me underneath in script. Praying hands with rosary beads was on the other side of it on the left.

“You’re beautiful, Toby, and sometime soon, I’d like to trace those tattoos with my tongue, examine them, and maybe figure out their meaning.” She smiled, sat up on her knees, and moved closer so she could touch him again.

“Should be my line. Damn, Harlow, you’re exquisite—like an angel of sexy innocence. I’m drooling over here because I’m about to eat that pretty pussy, and I already know your taste will be an addiction, then I’m going to want to dirty you up, fuck you until you can’t walk, ruin you for any other man.”

“Yes, please.” Harlow nodded and licked his pierced nipple. “Taste me. Let me taste you. I don’t care. I just need…”

Toby growled and pushed her back onto the bed so she was lying flat on her back again. She squirmed and cupped her breasts to tease him. She needed everything he promised and then some. She craved it.

“I know what you need. Fuck me, I know.” Toby dropped to his knees. He grabbed her by the ankles and yanked her closer to the edge. When she was into the position he wanted, he threw her legs over his shoulders and feasted. She gasped the minute he licked her from ass to clit. She watched Toby look up in time to see her writhe for him and he watched as she gripped the sheets. She pushed her pussy up into his face to get as close as possible while he licked, flicked, and fucked her with his tongue, and it felt so good, better than she could remember. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, her body broke out in goosebumps, and her back arched as she screamed out his name in ecstasy. There was a heaven, after all. Hallelujah! Her orgasm came on quickly but lasted so long, she had to beg him to stop so she could take a deep breath. It was bitter sweet bliss.

Toby stood, wiped her juices from his face, and eagerly whipped his pants, boxer briefs, and socks off. He hopped around, and she giggled when he almost lost his footing. He ignored her to grab a strip of condoms from his bedside table and quickly sheathed himself in the latex. God, but he made her breathless just by looking at him. His cock was long, thick, and slightly curved to the right. She licked her lips and slid herself higher on top of the bed so it was easier for him to crawl on top. He growled the moment his dick met her moist pussy, and he rubbed the head against her clit. Harlow shivered and wasn’t above begging. She needed him so much. She felt so empty. “Toby, please…”

“Fuck, yes!” he exclaimed.

She felt their spark ignite into an inferno of passion as soon as he entered her.

Chapter Fifteen

Toby

Holy shit!

He needed a minute or he was about to bust a nut. And there was no fucking way he was going to let that happen so soon. He’d wanted to be in this position from the moment he’d laid eyes on Ms. Hottie, and he wasn’t about to ruin it by acting like this was his first time. Christ, she was tight. Perfect underneath him.

“Toby?” Her whisper was nearly his undoing.

“I just need to savor this for a minute,” he said then met her halfway in a kiss. He finally began to move, thrusting slowly because it felt too good to rush through it while he made love to her, not only with his dick but with his mouth too. Harlow pulled away and gasped for air. Her hips flexed in tune with his, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her nails trailed down his arms and back up again, leaving slight red marks along the way. Loved knowing that later, whenever he looked in the mirror and saw those little scratches, he’d be treated with this very memory of her. Dark hair spread out against his white sheets, chest heaving, tits bouncing, green eyes on him like he hung the moon. He licked up her neck and nibbled on her lobe. She shivered against him as he breathed her in and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. “You feel so good, Harlow. So tight, warm, and wet on my cock. I want to feel you pulse against me, coming so hard you milk my cock inside of you. Not sure one night is going to be enough with you, and that’s all I’m normally made of. I knew you’d be different,” he confessed and began to fuck her faster, his own words working him up into a frenzy, and she sighed with satisfaction.

“More, Toby. Harder.” She slapped his ass, and it made him chuckle.

“Oh, baby, you asked for it.”

He was about to break the fucking headboard. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall, and he didn’t care who heard; this woman, his for the taking, was about to scream once again, and it was going to be louder than the last time, if he could help it. He cupped his hands underneath her butt to change positions. Now on his knees with Harlow’s lower half elevated, it was like watching his very own porno with him in a starring role. As soon as he was sure Harlow was supported by her legs, he kept one hand squeezing her butt as he fucked her, and his other went up to play with her clit. She was so slick and aroused, she quivered within a minute of his touch and lit up like a firework on the Fourth of July. It was beauty. It was bliss. It was freaking phenomenal, and he could swear he nearly blacked out as her pussy strangled his cock and drained him dry. He collapsed to the side, trying to catch his breath, and he could swear it had never felt like this, not once, or at least, not in a very long-ass time.

One thing was for sure—they’d be doing this again. He was too selfish. It felt too good not to. He just needed to be careful.

By the time he’d come back to his senses, Harlow was cuddled next to him, her head on his chest. Her fingers trailed along the skull over his heart, tracing it. “I know this is the part where I should probably get dressed and go, right?” She lifted her head to look at him, as if waiting for his direction. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so I’m not caught up on protocol.”

“Do you want to go?” He lifted his brow. He hadn’t planned on asking her to leave, but if she wanted to, he wasn’t about to stop her.

“Not really.” She shrugged. “This is nice.”

“What we did was far from nice.” His eyes glittered with amusement. “Stay, then.”

“Okay.” She sat up, and he whistled when he got a good view of her ass. “My turn to play. You just sit back and relax.”

Toby stiffened when she picked up his foot and began to massage it. He was in such a sated haze, he hadn’t realized he left his scars on display. He normally hid them. The burns he’d sustained from the fire when he lost Carley were worst around his ankles and feet, and now she was touching him—there.

For fuck’s sake.

Harlow sensed something, of course. “You don’t have to talk about it.” She kissed him softly against the puckered skin she held in her hands. “We all have scars, Toby. Our own stories to tell, when we’re ready, and you’ve seen mine.” She gulped and gently placed his foot down, massaging higher up his legs now, working her way up his body. He let out a breath, nodded, and tried to relax again. “I just want to make you feel as good as you’ve made me.” She kissed along his legs and stopped herself when she reached the top of his thigh. Harlow gripped the base of his cock, and having a mind of its own, he started to get hard again. She pulled off the condom and threw it in the trash beside his bed. Then he watched her grab a corner of the flat sheet and wipe him clean. He cursed the moment her lips closed around his tip, and his hips jerked at the feel of her tongue swiping the sensitive slit at the top of it before she enclosed her entire mouth down his length until he hit the back of her throat. The moment was epic, and he knew without a doubt, nobody was getting any sleep tonight.

He didn’t mind one bit.

Chapter Sixteen

Toby

“The fuck you laughing at?”

The minute Carson entered the break room, he noticed Rebel sitting at the table with his feet up. He was holding a magazine and chuckling loudly. If his fellow tattooist found something funny, he wanted in on it.

“Shit, man. Toby’s girl has some doozies. Check this out.”

“Not my girl, Reb,” was Toby’s instant reply.

“If you say so,” Carson said, rolling his eyes. He turned to face Rebel. “You’re reading the chick column?”

“Meh,” Rebel shrugged. “Since Harlow’s been hanging out, I figure I’d see what the fuss was about. Some of it is the standard advice column stuff, some of it is Harlow adding a personal touch to the situation she’s replying to. But then you’ll read crap like this and we’ve all been there, but just hearing it, or should I say reading about it, is funny shit.” He pointed to a paragraph, and it piqued Toby and Carson’s curiosity, so they began to read it over his shoulder.

Dear Harlow:

I know not many men write in, but I have a situation I need help with, and I’m hoping none of my boys will figure out I wrote to you here, no offense. I just don’t know who else I can turn to with this. There’s this girl I’ve been seeing for the last two months, and I like her a whole lot. We have fun, she’s sweet, and we’ve got chemistry, if you know what I mean. There is no problem there. Except last week we had a mishap in the sheets that turned embarrassing, and things have been awkward ever since.

Here’s the deal, long story short. My girl and I were in the middle of getting busy, and it was good too, until my dumbass roommate barged in on us. To make matters worse, when I went to say what the fu—udge, she farted and not the normal kind. She was mortified, but the coochie bomb was already out there, and I was stunned. In my defense, I don’t think anyone is fully prepared when this happens. My roomie laughed, she cried out in misery, and while she hurried to hide under the covers, I was able to recover enough to throw the arse out of my bedroom with a few choice words before slamming the door. I tried comforting her, holding her, but the moment had passed, and she didn’t want to be touched, so I respected her wishes and backed off for the moment. She wanted to go home. To make matters worse, on our way out, my roommate was an ass yet again when he lifted his leg, farted loudly, then told her everybody does it, like it was no big deal. He’s lucky I haven’t seen him in a couple days.

In the meantime, I call her every day to let her know I’m thinking of her, and we’ve gotten together once for dinner and a movie, but we haven’t been physical since. Is there anything I can do to help her get over the embarrassment?

From,

A Man with a Situation.

“Damn!” Toby said, shaking his head. “Sounds like his roommate needs a lesson in boundaries and a good ass kicking.”

“Dude,” Carson responded. “My thoughts exactly. He just cock-blocked the guy. What a total douche. It’s not like the guy could climb back on and ride that ripple. Sounds like he really likes this chick too. Poor sap.”

Toby turned to address Rebel. “What’s so funny about this?”

Rebel shrugged. “I was just picturing the scenario, is all. The guy called it a ‘coochie bomb,’ for fuck’s sakes. Guess it’s easier to find it funny when it’s not happening to you.”

“So, what’s Harlow say, I wonder?” Carson asked. They both started reading again, assuming Rebel already had.

Dear Situation:

Sounds to me like your roommate needs a lesson in etiquette. Did he realize you were entertaining? I guess it’s pointless to ask because the damage has been done. However, I can tell you care about this woman. You did the right thing by respecting her wishes afterward, and I’m sure she appreciates your daily calls just to let her know you’re thinking about her. She may need to take things slowly to gain back her confidence, so try to be patient with her. It sounds like you’re taking all the right steps.

I can certainly understand why she would be embarrassed, but she’s not alone.

Have you tried talking to her about the situation? Communication is key to a healthy relationship. I’m sorry, but I don’t have one right answer for you.

Maybe you can try apologizing. What happened isn’t your fault. However, she may feel better to hear it. Or maybe you can share an embarrassing experience of your own, so she can feel like you’re on even ground.

You mentioned not seeing your roommate for a few days. I suggest when you do that you mention the predicament he’s put you in and set him straight. Let her know he’s been handled, and if you can give her reassurance that his lack of boundaries won’t happen again, it might help matters as well. I wish you the best of luck in your relationship, and I hope everything works out the way you’d like it to. You sound like a really great guy, and I hope your girl realizes it.

Best wishes,

Harlow

“Smart woman you have there. Don’t you think?” Rebel smirked.

“Smart, beautiful, broken, successful, and so much more. You don’t know the half of it. I’m just getting to know her, and so far, she’s nothing short of remarkable. It’s scary.” Toby sighed.

“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but this chick column is not bad,” Carson said, still reading on.

“I heard that.” Dee grinned. “Welcome to the dark side.” She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Hey, Mel, you’ve got to see this. The guys are reading Harlow Helps.”

“Get out!” Mel said as she strolled through the door. “I was wondering where everyone was. We’re opening soon, and nobody was out front.”

“We’ve got time, but speaking of the dark side, my darling Dee, are you related to Yoda? Because yodalicious.” Carson wiggled his eyebrows up and down, and everyone started laughing.

“Yoda wasn’t on the dark side, dumb ass,” Mel retorted. “Where do you come up with this shit?”

“It’s a gift.” Carson shrugged. “And the ladies love it.”

“Says you,” she replied.

“All right. That’s enough sibling banter for one morning. We’ve got a shop to open.” Toby clapped his hands together and watched as everyone filed out.

“Hey, Tob?” Dee stopped at the doorway while everyone went ahead. “I overheard what you said to the guys about Harlow, and I can understand why you’d think it was scary, but life’s too short for regrets. It may not be my business, but I’m going to lay it out there anyway. You’re a friend, and I care, so sue me.” She took a breath. “Carley would have wanted to see you with someone genuine. She would’ve wanted you to be happy, and you deserve it all, so take the shot if you can and live a little.”

“Duly noted,” he said. “Now if you don’t mind, we have a day to get started, and I’m not in the mood for a heart to heart.”

“Right.” Dee saluted him, and as she turned around to leave, he called out to her.

“Hey, Dee?”

“Yeah?” She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Thanks. I know you’re coming from a good place. I just have to figure out if I’m ready for that advice.”

“Well, think about it.” She smiled and left.

“One day at a time,” he murmured to himself, thinking of Harlow’s words when he told her he wasn’t sure if he had forever in him anymore. “No promises.”

Chapter Seventeen

Harlow

“So, tell me all about it. I bet it was so good, wasn’t it?” Calista bounced on the edge of her seat as she tried prying the details out of Harlow about her night out with Toby. “Your first time out with a man in I can’t even remember. Where did he take you?”

“Whoa, calm down.” Harlow chuckled. “We went to Mecca’s and had a steak. It was delicious. Hey, did you know he lives on top of the shop? I had no idea until the other night.”

“No, I didn’t, but then again, I never asked.” She grabbed her glass of wine and took the last sip. “I need a top up before you continue. Want one?”

“No, I’m good,” Harlow said. “But help yourself. You know where the kitchen is.”

“Right, keep talking. I can hear you as I pour,” her friend called out. They were in Harlow’s small apartment having a glass of wine in her living room. It had been three days since she’d spent the night with Toby, and she hadn’t heard from him since. In his defense, she hadn’t bothered to contact him, either, but she’d wanted to. It was so complicated with all these feelings and confusion. She decided to call Calista so she could talk about everything without her thoughts driving her wild. Plus, she hadn’t had the best track record with men, and she needed her best friend’s opinion on a few things.

“Well, we went out to dinner, and I fell in love with his bike. He’s got this sleek, black Harley I’d love to ride. My dad used to take me out on his when I lived at home, and seeing the motorcycle made me realise how much I missed it, you know? The thrill of the ride, the wind against me, the speed, the freedom.”

“I bet that’s not the only thing you’d like to ride,” Calista teased.

Harlow picked up a decorative couch cushion and threw it at her, narrowly missing the glass she held in her hand.

“Hey, careful.”

Harlow smiled. “There is that,” she said with a sigh, and it made Calista look at her with wide eyes.

“You didn’t. Get out!” Her friend put the drink down and rubbed her hands together in glee. “Oh my God. You did. You hussy, you. I love it!”

“I did. He did. It was incredible, Callie.” Harlow clasped her chest and fell back against the couch. “And I’m scared because I’m beginning to have some serious feelings for the guy. I’m not sure he can return them. I mean, he told me he wasn’t sure he could give me more than the night we had, and it was like I was possessed with the need to be with him at least once. You know, I just kept thinking, I needed to let go, live in the moment, and have a little fun for once. I always put everyone else before myself, and, well, this time it was different. I went for it.”

“It’s about time.” Calista beamed. “You were well past due to get laid. I was afraid your lady bits might have shrivelled up. A born-again virgin, perhaps. And those cobwebs needed a good poking to clear out or something.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harlow sat up. “I do not have cobwebs, and nothing shrivelled up, weirdo.”

“I know.” Calista winked. “I just like teasing you. On a serious note, I’m happy for you.” Harlow reached over and held her hand.

“You’re a good friend, Callie. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Calista squeezed her hand. “But let’s back up for a minute. What happened after dinner?”

“We went back to his place. He has a really nice loft apartment with these huge industrial windows. Everything is one big open space. It’s rustic and modern. Anyway, pretty much right off, we made plans to finish my tattoo. I have an appointment on Friday at six-thirty.” Harlow continued, “We’re sitting there having a beer and suddenly, I got nervous because I remembered he also said he wanted to see me draw for him. I totally suck. That worry on top of the chemistry I felt brewing between us…I couldn’t help it. I got up and admired one of his paintings. I tried to warn him I wasn’t any good, and he somehow put me at ease, and we sat back down, side by side, and he taught me to draw a sunflower. It completely surprised me that I actually drew something discernable with his instruction, and I felt elated. It was such a small accomplishment, but there it was. In the heat of the moment, I hugged him. The hug turned into a kiss and the kiss led to—other things.”

“Incredible things, as I recall,” Calista said.

“They were. It was.” Harlow’s shoulders dropped, and she looked down at her lap. “I haven’t spoken to him since, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Wait a minute. You’re seeing him on Friday, right? Did you make any other plans?” her friend inquired.

“Friday night, after the tattoo, he’s taking me out on his Harley.” Harlow looked up and smiled.

“That’s good. So why are you going crazy?” Callie smiled back. “He clearly wants to see you again, or he wouldn’t have offered you more of his time after the appointment. My guess is, he hasn’t called yet because he’s crazy busy at the shop. Pick up the phone and call him yourself, if you want to hear his voice. You’re a grown, independent woman. You don’t need to wait around for a man to make the first move.”

“You see? That’s why I love you.” Harlow nudged her playfully. “I’m going crazy with all kinds of what if’s and insecurities because he is so out of my league. He’s experienced and I’m—not. And here you are telling me how it is and talking sense.”

“I knew I was good for something,” Calista laughed. “You lucky girl.”

“I’m not sure luck has anything to do with it.” Harlow raised her glass to toast. “Here’s to taking chances after so much heartache and hoping it all works out in the end.”

“To taking the leap,” her friend cheered. “If anyone deserves a happy ending, you do.”

“One day at a time, with no promises,” Harlow muttered, then took a big sip.

***

It was getting late, Calista had left about an hour earlier, and Harlow sat on the edge of her bed with the phone in her hand.

Here goes nothing.

She eyed Toby’s business card beside her and dialed. It rang a few times, and just as she was about to hang up, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Toby. It’s me.” She cleared her throat. “Harlow. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No. I was just working on a sketch,” he replied. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I was just sitting here and thought of you, so I decided to call.” She exhaled. “Is this sketch for you or a client?”

“A client,” he said. She swore he sounded like he was amused. “It’s of a dragon, and it’s going to take the length of one arm when I’m finished with it. Just getting the details in there.”

“It sounds beautiful,” she said.

“Speaking of…what are you up to?” Toby asked.

Harlow giggled. “Did you just imply that I’m beautiful, Mr. James?”

“There is no implying needed. The guys don’t call you Hottie Harlow for nothing.” The deep timber of his voice gave her shivers, and she laughed as soon as she registered what he had said.

“They do not.”

“Oh, but they do.” He was amused with this conversation. She could tell. He sounded lighter, happier, even. “Although I may have started it.”

“So, you think I’m hot, do you?”

“I think I proved that the other night,” he said.

“And then some.” She sighed. “Are we okay? The other night was amazing, and you were incredible, but I don’t want anything to be awkward between us.”

“We’re golden, honey. I promise,” he assured her. “I’m looking forward to that ride.”

“Me too. I can’t wait. You know as soon as I walk into Misfit, I’ll be all flushed, right? Just fair warning.”

“For what?” He chuckled.

“You said the guys call me Hottie Harlow, and now I know it.” She giggled. “Walking in was bad enough without knowing. It’s like a candy store in there.”

“Uh, you lost me there,” he said, sounding confused. “We don’t sell candy.”

She laughed louder. “No, silly. You are the candy. Hot guys as far as the eye can see. Between you, Rebel, and Carson, it’s no wonder the girls line up to get ink.”

This time, he laughed with her. “It’s good to know you think I’m hot, too. The other guys…not so much.”

“I think I showed you that the other night, didn’t I?” She felt cheeky and went with it.

“Fuck me. Did you ever,” he recalled. “I may need a repeat performance if you’re up for it.”

“So, you’re not a one and done then? Good to know,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“I normally am, but with you, I can’t seem to get enough,” he admitted, and she wondered if it cost him to do so.

“I appreciate your honesty. You’re a good man, Toby James. One with many talents.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “I try.”

“You’re welcome.” Harlow yawned. “Sorry about that. I guess I’m a little tired. Calista came over tonight, and I had a couple glasses of wine.”

“Sounds like a good time,” Toby said. “I’ve got to finish the dragon, and you need sleep. We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“You have my number, and I obviously have yours, so yeah, we’ll talk soon. Night, Toby.”

“Sweet dreams, Hottie Harlow.”

Chapter Eighteen

Dear Harlow:

My boyfriend only cares about getting himself off in bed. I love him, but I have needs too. How should I handle this?

~Unfulfilled in Minnesota~

*

Dear Unfulfilled:

Be blunt, and if he can’t give you what you need, dump him.

Good luck,

Harlow

***

Harlow

Harlow sighed in relief as she walked into the air conditioned lobby of Misfit Tattoo. It was Friday, the Friday, when she was going to finish her tattoo then go out with Toby. She had butterflies in her stomach at the thought of the finished product on her skin. It meant so much to her: a permanent, beautiful mark that represented life and death intertwined, but it also represented her daughter, in a way. Her precious little girl’s memory, that was. It also hid a few of the many scars she struggled with. Then there was Toby—a conundrum of a man she couldn’t seem to resist with his sexy good looks, big heart, dedication, and loyalty. But she was also drawn to his darker side. She could recognize the internal struggle inside his gaze, as if he understood her sense of loss and grief. A kindred spirit with whom she also had a deep connection. It might have been her need to help people, including herself, that made that draw more enticing because everyone has those demons inside somewhere. He was just another fellow broken soul who she happened to be falling for fast and hard. Some of the excitement she endured by being there today was also for the man himself.

They’d been busy with work but had talked several times over the week since she’d made the first move by calling him. She looked around at the few people seated in the lobby looking through books, cleared her throat, and pasted a big smile on her face as she approached Rebel and Dee, who looked quite cozy together behind the counter. “Hey, guys. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Rebel winked, and the beautiful receptionist blushed. “Nice to see you, Harlow. I’ll just let Toby know you’re here.” He walked backward, addressing Dee. “We’ll talk more later. You can count on it.”

“Thanks, Rebel. It’s nice to see you again, too.” Harlow waved, then arched a brow at her colorful friend with curiosity. “So, you and Rebel, huh?”

“When there’s something to tell, I’ll let you know.” Her friend held up a hand and fanned her face as if to imply there definitely would be a story to tell later.

“You go, girl!” Harlow giggled as Dee gave her a high five. “Hey, what’s Mel up to? I was hoping to say hello.”

Dee pointed behind her. “She’s in back doing a Prince Albert.”

“A Prince who?”

“You’re hilarious.” Dee chuckled. “It’s a piercing on a guy’s…” When she pointed to her crotch, it was Harlow’s turn to blush.

“Well, okay, then.” She cleared her throat. “That sounds painful.”

They both turned to the sound of Carson’s voice coming from the hallway in the back. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t two of my favorite women.” He winked and strode toward Harlow until he stood in front of her. He grabbed her hand and continued. “Excuse me. Is your name Earl Grey? Because you look like a hot-tea!”

She was speechless. Literally, she had no idea how to respond to that. Where did he come up with this stuff? Instead, she went with her gut and laughed like usual.

“I can’t believe you get laid with those lame-ass come-ons.” Dee shook her head. “Must be your pretty face.” She patted his cheek.

“My pretty face and hot bod. Not to mention my many talents. I’m also a sucker for a pretty smile, and those lines work every time.” He flexed his arms and blew them both a kiss before he called out to his next client. “Max, my man. You’re up, dude.”

They both watched him walk back with his canvas in tow, and Harlow sighed. “I’m seriously going to look forward to the day he meets his match. At least, I hope I’m still around to witness it. Underneath that playboy exterior is a great guy, and she’ll be one lucky woman.”

“Agreed,” Dee replied. “Since we’re on the subject of good men…yours is coming as we speak. Oh, and if all works out as we’re all hoping, you’ll be around a while.”

“I hope so,” she whispered for Dee’s ears only.

“What an amazing sight to behold.” Toby pulled her behind the counter and into his arms. “Hey, gorgeous. It feels like it’s been too long.”

“We just spoke yesterday. Miss me already?” She stepped back and smiled.

“You know it,” Toby said. “You’re my last appointment of the day, so let’s get this show on the road. Shall we?” He gestured for her to follow him down the hallway. “We’ll finish your artwork and I’ll be able to have you all to myself. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

“You did miss me.” Harlow was elated at the thought. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Good to know, baby.” The moment they crossed the threshold of his station, he slammed the door to give them privacy and was on her in an instant. Her back was pressed against the door, and the heat of Toby’s body surrounded her. His mouth immediately sought hers, and it was heaven on earth. They were both breathless when he pulled away reluctantly. “We’ll have to continue that a little bit later because if I don’t stop now, there’ll be no turning back.”

“Something else to look forward to.” Harlow smirked and took off her shirt. “You ready for me?” She hopped up on the tattoo table, lay on her side, and got comfortable.

“More than you know,” Toby replied. She squealed when he smacked her on the ass as he walked by. It only took a couple minutes for him to set up, and the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun filled the room. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. The tatt looks like it healed up really well,” he said.

“I washed it every day and liberally moisturized.” She shrugged. “I can’t wait to see the finished product.”

“I bet. No regrets?”

Harlow shook her head. “Zero. I guess my initial problem was fear of the unknown—finding someone I trusted enough to get it right and allowing myself to take the leap. Thanks to Calista, Melody, and you, here I am. You came along, listened to the idea I had, and made it better with your crazy, incredible talent. Now, here we are, finishing it, and it’s truly incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

“No thanks are needed. Trust me when I tell you, the pleasure has been all mine. It makes it that much better when it means something to the person you’re giving your art to.” They were silent for a minute before Toby continued with a question. “Have you known Calista a long time?”

“We met just before Lily’s first birthday, actually.” Harlow smiled as she recalled the memory. “She was my neighbor, and she turned out to be a really great friend, as you can tell. My first here in this city. Before her, I mostly kept to myself. I only lived here a couple of months, and I was settling into a new job at St. Paul’s in their Family Services Department.”

“Where was Lily while you were working?” Toby asked.

“She was with the Coles. They’re a friend of the family, of my mom’s, actually, and they were happy to help out whenever they could. They adored the both of us.”

“That’s good. Do you still keep in touch?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” she admitted, ashamed to say so. They were good people. “After Lily passed away, it took a long time for me to recover, both physically and emotionally. Hell, I think I’ll always be a little broken. Let’s face it, losing a child is just something one doesn’t ever get over. It’s too tragic.” She shook her head and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I was a shell of the person I used to be, and I kept to myself. Sometimes, I thought it was easier to just push people away. The less people you had to care about, the less it would hurt if something were to happen again. I couldn’t cope. Know what I mean?”

“I know exactly how that feels,” he said but didn’t elaborate.

“I somehow knew you would.” She sighed. “But Calista was a force to be reckoned with. No matter how much I pushed, she pushed back. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but it was kind of a godsend, and she was the rock I needed to lean on until I pulled myself together. The fact is, we need people, especially through the tough times. It’s human nature, even if it’s just to talk out the issues we hold inside. It took a while for me to figure that one out, by the way.”

Toby snorted. “Did it, now? Don’t they teach you that when you study psychology?”

“In theory, I guess. But it’s a different ballgame to practice what you preach. Think of it this way. Would the person you lost want you to dwell on the grief and live miserable and alone for the rest of your life? Or would they love you enough to want to see you move on and succeed? In order to do that, you need to let people in, talk about it, and go through all the steps you need to grieve so you can get better for yourself and become a stronger person. Loving someone is a blessing, and although I’d give anything to have my daughter back, that’s just not my reality anymore. Though I am grateful for the time we had and that I was once blessed to be her mother, even if it was only for a short time.”

“Remarkable,” Toby said. She drew in a deep breath while he went over a particularly sensitive spot on her skin. “You’re a strong person, Harlow Ross. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s one of your many qualities, which I admire.”

“Uh, thanks.” She winced as he began working across her ribs.

“Can I ask what happened with Lily’s father? You’ve never really mentioned him.” Toby paused to dip the gun in ink and wiped the spot he was working on with a paper towel before his needle met her skin again.

“There’s not much to tell.” She cursed. “Shit, that hurts.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Do you need a break?”

“Maybe just a minute.” She sighed when he pulled away. “Lily’s father was someone I met in my last year of University. We were together only a few months when I found out I was pregnant, and it didn’t go so well when I told him the news. His name was Scott, and he was a pre-med student looking forward to starting a residency at Stanford Hospital. I thought he was incredibly smart and good looking, and we were both young and having fun, until we weren’t.” She shrugged while staring at the wall in front of her. “I once thought we had the same goals. Anyway, I found out I was pregnant a few months into the relationship, and he freaked out. He accused me of entrapment, made it seem like I had done it on purpose because I wanted to nab a doctor to secure my future, which was preposterous. I was working toward my degree in psychology. I didn’t need him or anyone else to secure anything. I was doing fine on my own. We got into this huge argument and broke up. I was devastated, but I was determined to prove him wrong. He avoided me for the rest of my time at school, and I endured the gossip and pitying looks the whole time. By the time I was in my third trimester, I had graduated with honors. So, there you go. Suck it, Scott!” She wiped a tear from her eye and laughed humorlessly. “Then he found out when our little girl died, he must have heard about it on the news or something, and I swear, it was the first time since my last year in university I heard his voice again, but his apology came too little too late. He was never in her life. He didn’t want to be. But despite that, I invited him to the funeral to say goodbye, if he wanted to, and the asshole didn’t even bother to show up. Can you believe that? I mean, why call me to begin with? I was going through enough at that point. That was the first and last time I heard from him in years, and I hope to God it’ll be the last. He’s evil and cruel, and I hope karma bites him in the butt.”

“If I ever meet him, I guarantee I’ll kick his ass for you.” Toby stood above her and pressed on her shoulder so she could move from her side to her back and he kissed her forehead. “Fuckin’ incredible, I tell you.”

“What is?” she whispered.

“You,” was his simple reply. “Now, are you ready to get started again?” He moved to sit back on his stool.

“Let’s do this.” Harlow nodded and moved back onto her side. She lifted her arm and settled her hands together so she could place them under her cheek. “Um, Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d be happy to return the favor someday and listen when you’re ready to share your story too.” There was no telling when, or if, that would happen, but there was always hope.

“Maybe someday.” His gloved hand lightly squeezed her hip as if acknowledging the offer, and she let it go for now.

One day, she’d find out about his ugly, just as she shared hers with him, and she hoped it would help him heal. Toby was a good man who deserved happiness in the end.

They both did.

Chapter Nineteen

Toby

He admired her as she stood in front of the floor-length mirror at his station. He’d just finished the shading and coloring of her tattoo, and it was fuckin’ beautiful, if he did say so himself. One of his best pieces to date. “As before, the redness should disappear by tomorrow. It’ll be sensitive for a few days. Be sure to clean it with soap and water regularly and moisturize. It’ll help if it starts to itch.” He swallowed. “But you know all that. Would you mind if I take a picture before we wrap it up? With permission, I’d be honored to add it to my portfolio.”

When she turned around, he saw tears in her eyes, and it made him want to take her in his arms and protect her from everything and everyone. This woman was amazing and strong. She did things to him and made him feel things he hadn’t felt in so long. It felt like ages, another lifetime ago, since his heart had been thawed out and started beating again. She made him feel again, made him want to become a better person and to take a chance. Would Carley have liked her?

Shit, probably. Who knew for sure?

He rubbed a hand across his face and held back a curse. What he needed was to slow this shit down, but that was easier said than done when he was around her. Since recovering from the burns and trauma—since Carley was taken, as a matter of fact—his coping method involved a revolving door of women and booze to deal with the nightmares and lack of sleep. The shitty depression and anger needed an outlet, and when he wasn’t fucking or getting buzzed to dull the pain, he was getting the new shop running and working his ass off. It was exhausting.

After a while, she finally responded. “The honor would be mine. Wow, I knew how beautiful it was going to be. It’s just…now that it’s done…I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s like another chapter of my life has ended and a new one is beginning. Lily would have thought this was so pretty. You would have loved her. I know I mentioned this before, but she always loved to make me drawings for our refrigerator of flowers and anything else that gained her attention.”

“I’m sure I would have.” He gulped back the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, thinking of her little girl, and nodded. There was a time in his life he couldn’t wait to have children, and he wondered if he’d ever get there again. At thirty-three, he wasn’t getting any younger.

The tattoo went from just under her armpit down to her hip, taking up her whole side. He could see the scars she covered up, but that was only because he’d known where they’d been. Anyone else probably wouldn’t notice them, though. The skull was a large black and white piece which was shaded well, so it looked realistic. The vine of flowers went through the skull, creating a halo at the top, making it look angelic and feminine. Then the vines tapered down her side into a bouquet that spread out and down to her hip bone. Life and death. Perfection on the outside to hide the imperfections she struggled with inside. But who could blame her?

He vowed right then and there that when the time was right, he’d share his story with her, and soon. It was only fair for her to know what she was getting herself into if things went any further between them. He already knew she was different from the rest, and he was broken and totally fucked up. The least he could do was warn her about it before either of them got in too deep.

He didn’t love her yet, but he knew without a doubt that he could, and that was some scary shit. He liked her a lot, though, and that wasn’t going to change. She was good people right down to her core, inside and out. Beautiful, smart, caring, strong, sweet, and sexy. So sexy.

Harlow was a woman who deserved it all, but did he deserve a woman like her? That was another question altogether. She was the light to his dark.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Her whispered words brought him out of those deep thoughts, and he sighed as he went to grab his phone to take that picture. “Yeah, I guess I sort of zoned out for a minute. Nothing to worry about.” He winked, and her smile put him at ease.

“These’ll look good.” He showed her the two pictures he’d taken on his phone. “This tattoo is one to be proud of.”

“It really is,” she said. He could see the pride written all over her face. She was really good for his ego.

“Damn right it is.” He smirked. “Just give me a sec to cover it up for a bit. You can take it off in an hour or two to air it out.” He applied the antibacterial ointment. Once he was sure the area was sterilized, he then placed a plastic wrap on top and taped it to keep any germs or bacteria away from the wound. “On the other hand, forget the hour or two. I’d recommend keeping the wrap on until the morning to be safe, due to the size of it and where the tattoo is located.”

“Then morning it is.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now about that ride…”

“I didn’t forget.” Toby chuckled and gave her a kiss on the lips. “But first, you’ll need to get dressed. Don’t you think?” Her shirt hung from his index finger as he held it up for her, and she snatched it away.

“I think you might be right, silly man.” She winked. “It’s hot as hades out there, but I also brought a light jacket. A girl can never be too prepared while on a motorcycle. I was taught well.”

“I can see that,” he said, unable to help himself as his gaze ran from the bottom of her running shoes up to her long legs encased in tight jeans. He continued his perusal up to her shapely hips, flat stomach, great breasts, and didn’t stop until he was looking into those gorgeous green eyes, which he had decided were his new favorite color. Her shirt was on now, but he could still tell she was just as affected as he was with their mutual attraction, thanks to her hardened nipples pointing right in his direction. He licked his lips, and his mouth watered. He was a man, after all. “After you.” He opened his door and gestured for her to go ahead of him. The entire gang, minus Carson, was out front. He was still with his client and due to close the shop tonight, thanks to his plans with Harlow. Plans he was very much looking forward to.

“There’s our girl.” Mel smiled and hugged Harlow lightly. “Let me see.”

Dee moved closer to have a look too, but Toby moved in faster. “Sorry, me and your girl have a date with my Harley. Maybe next time.” Harlow chuckled and looked back with a wave.

“Later, ladies. I’ll give you a call. We’ll go out for drinks soon. The four of us. I promise.”

By the time they made it outside, the sun had already set, and it was getting dark out. There was a light breeze in the air that helped lower the humidity from earlier.

“What’s the rush?” The sound of happiness in her voice tugged at his heart and filled him with warmth. A gift only she seemed to give him. He slowed his pace and turned to face her.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and shrugged. “Figured if we didn’t get out when we did, those two would have kept us there for a while. Trust me. They know how to talk, and now that my work is done, I was kind of looking forward to having you all to myself.” He caressed the side of her face and leaned down for another kiss. The taste of her was becoming his addiction. He sucked on her bottom lip and whispered, “Okay?”

He pulled back just enough to gauge her reaction and knew it was the right move when she pulled him down to devour his mouth.

Chapter Twenty

Dear Harlow:

Is there a time limit to the grieving process?

I lost my husband eight months ago to cancer, and my friends are already encouraging me to move on. It’s too soon. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to meet someone else. Help!

~Weeping Widow, Minnesota~

*

Dear Weeping:

First, I’d like to say I’m so sorry for your loss. I know the grieving process well, and I can tell you from experience that there is no time limit on it. I can certainly understand how after only a few months you feel like you aren’t ready to be romantically involved again. Take it one day at a time. You never know what the future will hold. You may feel differently down the road. In the meantime, take care of you. Talk to someone about how you’re feeling regularly.

Try not to worry so much about everyone else’s expectations.

Big hugs,

Harlow

***

Harlow

There was nothing more intoxicating and alluring than being on an open road with the wind on her face and flowing through her hair. Or at least the part of her hair that wasn’t confined inside a helmet. To hear the roar of a good engine, to feel the vibration between her legs, and to enjoy the openness that surrounded her as she got to view the remarkable sights while they drove by. It made her feel grateful to experience it again. Harlow had never been on a motorcycle ride in Minneapolis before. It was her first time on a bike since she’d left Fresno all those years ago. It didn’t hurt that she was also able to enjoy it while her arms were wrapped tightly around the rippling muscles of a gorgeous man, either.

Toby took her along The Grand Rounds, which encompassed some lakes, creeks, woods, and riverbanks. It was so resplendent with natural features. It also had canals, lagoons, parks, and so much more. It was dark, but what she could make out through the street lighting was breathtaking. She’d have to come back again one day to get a closer look.

About an hour later, Toby steered them back in the direction of the shop. The time flew by so fast, she didn’t want it to end. Thankfully, neither did he.

“Was it as good as you remembered?” Toby smirked while he helped her get the helmet off. Her legs were a little shaky as she got off the back, but she managed the feat on her own.

“Oh, yeah.” She chuckled. “When can we go again?”

He laughed with her. “Anytime you want. Would you like to come up for a drink?” He gestured toward his loft upstairs and placed an arm around her shoulders.

Harlow nodded. “What a rush.”

When they stepped inside Toby’s apartment, she twirled herself around with enthusiasm and sat on his couch, as if in a daze. Toby shook his head with amusement and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. He opened the refrigerator.

“Glad you think so. Not every woman can appreciate the experience. It’s refreshing to see that you do.”

“Calista once told me she thinks they’re death traps.” Harlow shrugged. “To each their own, I guess. I obviously got my love for motorcycles from my dad. We both did growing up.”

“We, as in…” Toby looked up at her.

“My sister and I.” Harlow smiled. “We’re eleven months apart. She’s younger. I don’t see or hear from her very much. Harper is an English teacher overseas.”

“I see. Is it just the two of you?” he asked.

“It is,” she replied. “How about you? Are there any James siblings out there?”

“No, just me,” he said. Toby stood up with his hands full of food and kicked the refrigerator closed. “I didn’t get a chance to eat much earlier. Are you hungry? I’ve got some leftover pasta and a salad.”

“Maybe a little.” She held up her forefinger and thumb to show him just how much. “Need any help?” She hopped up and walked to the kitchen before he could answer. He passed her the container with the salad.

“Bowls are in that cupboard.” He pointed to her left, and she helped herself while he nuked their pasta. “We’ve got milk, water, coffee, tea, or soda to go with tonight’s late dinner. What’ll it be?”

“Water, please.” She smiled as he tossed her two bottles, and she placed them beside the salad bowls on his small kitchen table. A few minutes later, Toby joined her at the table with two plates, one in each hand. He placed one in front of her and went to get them some utensils.

“Dig in.”

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them while they ate. When they were done, she insisted on helping him out with the dishes.

“How’s the side?” Toby asked as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Are you itching to take off the wrapping yet?”

“My very talented tattooist suggested I keep it on until morning,” Harlow replied. “It’s a little sensitive, but I’ll survive.”

“May I?” Toby gestured to the side of her shirt as if to ask permission to lift it up. He wanted to have another look.

Instead of answering, she lifted it up herself and looked down at her new art. “I’m in love with it, I swear.” She smiled as she looked at him, and he took a step closer. “My vision is now a reality. How can I not be?”

“You’re so fucking good to me.” He smirked and gave the tattoo a gentle touch above the clear wrapping. “At least the redness is gone. And it doesn’t look like you bled too much. Should heal nicely for you.”

“I have no doubt,” she said. “You know it goes both ways, right?”

“What does?” When he looked up, she let her shirt fall back into place, and she closed the distance between them. Her hands rested on his pecs, and Toby automatically put his arms around her.

She licked her lips and then explained.

“You’re good to me too, and for me actually. The first time I saw you, I was instantly intrigued. Here was this very attractive, confident man sporting sexy tattoos, who got me to open up by explaining the tattoo I needed and why I wanted it.” Harlow blushed and rested her head against his beating heart. “Then I was in awe with you when you took my idea and made it so beautiful. I mean, I’d imagined it, but what you did seemed to be so much better. I know it doesn’t really make sense when I try to explain it, but that’s how I felt. I’ve been alone for such a long time, especially in the romantic sense, and now here I am with you, and I feel so alive. I like you, Toby, and I sense the feeling is mutual. I also know you have your own scars to deal with, whatever they may be, and I’m here for you when you’re ready.” She took a deep breath, almost dreading the answer to her next question. “Am I scaring you yet?”

“Yes and no.” Toby sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No because I like you, too. And yes because I like you much more than I probably should in such a short time. You’re special, Harlow, but I haven’t told you my story, and I don’t know if I can completely get past it to move on.” He stepped back and placed a finger under her chin. He gazed into her eyes and continued. “You deserve everything, and I really want to give that to you, though.”

“You and me both,” she whispered. “Would you please kiss me already?”

She’d been anticipating this kiss since their last one a few hours ago. She couldn’t get enough. His touch and taste had been all she could think about all week. Enough talking. She was ready to put her words into actions. The kiss started out sweet. Toby placed kisses all over her face, starting with her forehead again, then her eyelids, on her nose and finally to her lips. He nibbled on her mouth, took his time, and she savored every second of it. But the moment she opened for him, his tongue finally sought entry, and it soon turned hungry and rough. Toby picked her up, and she gladly wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her to the other side of the apartment and gently laid her on his bed. Their hands began to explore each other, and she became breathless.

“We’ve got to be careful of your side. Are you good?” Toby asked. His deep timbre sounded rough with need, and her heart beat a little faster.

“I’ll be fine.” Harlow bucked her hips up and rolled them both over so that she was on top now. “But how about we let me be in control this time? Just in case.” She winked and pulled her shirt above her head to toss into the corner. Her bra soon followed.

“Fuck me. You’re hot,” Toby replied. “Still too many clothes on.”

Harlow agreed and moved over to get rid of the remaining barriers, while Toby did the same for himself. Once they were both completely naked, Toby lay back on the bed and patiently waited for her to join him. He was so tall and built, masculine and sexy, her mouth watered. His hard cock rested against his tattooed stomach, and she licked her lips. She sat beside him and gripped the base of his dick, stroking him from root to tip with her hand. Her other hand fondled his balls, and he thrust his hips up, wanting more. “You’re so sexy.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” He panted, “Need you, Harlow. Need more.”

“God, yes,” she hissed. She wanted the same thing. Harlow leaned over him to replace her hand with her mouth on his shaft. Her ass was in the air for his viewing pleasure. He gripped her hips and pulled her closer to him. Her legs spread, and he maneuvered her so that she was on top, ass to face. She shivered and cried out when Toby latched on to taste her dripping pussy. The more turned on she became, the harder she worked him. Her tongue circled the head of his cock. She licked down the side of it and back up again to taste every inch before she enveloped the entirety of his length inside her mouth to suck. Back and forth, her head bobbed, up and down. He hit the back of her throat, and her gag reflex kicked in. She released him from her mouth like a big old lollypop and stroked him harder with her hand. Toby was magic with pussy, a master at making her come apart. She was so close. She rode his face, knowing she was about to explode. Her breath hitched, her nipples pebbled, and Harlow panted. “Holy shit.”

She could tell he was loving her responsiveness when he began to fuck her hand as she jacked him off. “So good, baby. I love that mouth.” Her body began to tremble, and she was weak in the knees. “Oh God, Toby!” She couldn’t hold back any longer and went off like a rocket into oblivion. It was sweet, sweet bliss. Harlow lay boneless on top of him while he lapped her juices and kissed her thighs. When she was done riding that wave of ecstasy, Toby squeezed her ass and slapped it.

“No more mouth. Give me that pussy.”

“Kay.” She pushed some hair out of her face and moved so he could grab a condom from his night table beside the bed. He quickly put it on, and she eagerly climbed on top again. He positioned his cock to align with her wet cunt, and she slowly sank inch by inch until he was seated to the root. They both moaned in unison.

She paced herself slowly because it felt way too good to rush. There’d be time for that later. Her hands rested on his chest for leverage while she moved over him. Toby matched her rhythm. He played with her breasts, and she leaned forward to kiss him, couldn’t get close enough. Harlow could taste herself on his lips, and it excited her more. They explored each other, were getting to know each other, and she was falling so fast, she needed to catch her breath. She broke the kiss with a gasp and cried out again when Toby’s mouth latched onto her boob. Her pace quickened and pussy pulsed. She wanted to make him feel as good as he made her feel and gave it her all. Sweat cascaded down her back, and Toby grabbed onto her ass cheeks to help guide her into a faster pace.

“Feel so good, Harlow.” He hissed, “Tight—warm—wet. So close.”

Harlow nodded and sucked on her index finger while she bounced. She trailed the digit down her body to her clit and started to rub it. “Me too, baby.”

Toby’s gaze zeroed in on her ministrations. She knew exactly how to play her body like it was a finely tuned instrument. It wouldn’t take her long to erupt again. She was too worked up. “Come, Toby. Fill me up.”

“Fuck, yeah!” he hollered, and his cock twitched. Toby held himself still and sighed her name when he finally let go, and that’s all it took for her to pulse again with her own release while he filled the condom inside of her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Toby

She was abso-fuckin-lutely glowing, and his chest swelled with pride. They were breathless and well spent after this first round of making love. If all went according to plan, he could go for another round or ten before exhaustion hit them. But first, they needed to talk. He at least owed her that much. She’d confided in him several times, and he’d given her nothing about himself in return. At least, not the fucked up or important parts. The stuff she needed to know going forward. It was time to man up and spill if he wanted a shot with her, and he needed to do it fast before he changed his mind. This shit wasn’t going to be easy.

Toby took a deep breath and exhaled. “I think I’m addicted already.”

“What?” Harlow giggled and lifted her face off his chest to look at him.

“To this, us, and the sex is…” Toby grinned when Harlow finished his thought for him.

“Incredible, epic, the best?”

“No doubt.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand down his face. They had some serious chemistry; there was no denying it. “I’m going to get cleaned up, then I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Is everything okay?” Harlow sat up and looked adorably confused in all her naked glory. He wished he could have taken a picture right then to capture the memory in case things got too heavy for either of them to handle. This was it, or it would be in a minute or two, but first, he needed to handle the condom.

“Yeah, I just figured it was time to talk about me, my baggage, whatever you want to call it. You’ve already given me you. It’s only fair I do the same,” he said. Toby got out of bed and turned away from her to discard the condom. He threw it in the trash and sat back down on the edge of the bed, dreading what came next.

Harlow traced the broken angel wings he’d had tattooed on his back after Carley died and whispered, “If you’re sure you’re ready, then I’m here for you.” She massaged his shoulders, and her touch and encouraging words soothed him enough to go on.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, truthfully. Talking about this is hard, but I care about you, so I will.” Toby leaned forward and rested his head between his hands. “You’re special to me, Harlow, and I feel like you understand where I’m coming from.”

Harlow kissed him between his shoulder blades and hugged him from behind. “Somehow, I think I might.”

“Right,” he agreed. “Mel ever tell you how I lost Blank Canvas? My old place. If not, you’re about to find out. It’s a big part of this shit show I’m stuck with.” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. “But first I get to tell you about the best part. Her name was Carley, and she was my fiancé for about five minutes. We were together for a few years, and she was everything to me. She was short and cute as a button. Fierce, loyal, and tough through and through. She’d come into the shop, a tattoo virgin, just like you. Only she wanted to start out small. Got herself this little blue butterfly on her left shoulder. From there, she was hooked into getting a full sleeve and eventually got into piercings, by Mel’s influence.” Toby exhaled. “We had this magnetism, and she was so easy to be around. You kind of remind me of her a bit in that sense. It was just before Christmas, and she was coming in to get her nipples pierced on the night I proposed. I talked everyone into leaving early so it’d be just the two of us. I had my office all set up with candles and flowers, crap to make it romantic for her. I gave her the nip jewellery, and we headed to the back. Later on, we fell asleep on the couch I had back there with her curled around me. Not sure how long we’d been out, but by the time I woke up, I was drenched in sweat. I had a hard time catching my breath, and I was weak. It was surreal. My eyes opened and closed a few times before I caught my bearings. The place was burning, smoke was everywhere, and I could hardly see. I called out to Carley, but she wasn’t responding. When I tried getting up, she rolled to the floor. I couldn’t focus, and I knew I had to get us out.” Toby finally managed to look behind him to gauge Harlow’s reaction and tried to breathe past the tears that threatened to fall. “Managed to drag us out of the burning office but blacked out before I could get us outside. Carley died. The burns on my calves and feet are my reminder.”

“Mr. Idiosyncratic?” Harlow whispered in shock. It all made so much sense now. She sprang off the bed and knelt in front of him. “Oh, Toby, I am so sorry.”

Toby let out a grunt when Harlow flew into his arms. He had no words. What was somebody supposed to say to that? You’re not the only one. He hated being broken.

Instead, he just held onto her tightly, and it felt good for the moment. She felt good. His heart physically ached at the memory, and he rubbed his chest when she leaned back a couple of inches. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to kiss him there. She literally moved his hand out of the way and placed her lips right above his heart.

So sweet. Shit.

Harlow never failed to astound him. He held her hands with both of his. “This is why I’m not sure I can commit to anything long term. I can’t make you promises, Harlow, and you deserve them. Losing Carley nearly destroyed me, and the hurt won’t fucking go away.”

“It’s not easy, Toby. I understand. What you went through was heartbreakingly traumatic. It’s not something someone can just get over, just like that.” She withdrew her hand from one of his and snapped her fingers. “Carley sounds like an amazing woman, and no one should expect you not to feel the way you do. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the loss of my daughter. What I do know is that I like you a lot. I enjoy spending time with you, and I feel this connection between us. We’re two people who, unfortunately, were dealt a shitty hand. Life is hard, but it’s also what you make of it. I’m willing to take a chance if you are. Day by day, one date at a time.”

“I can handle that.” He gave her a sad smile and quickly kissed her on the lips.

“Talking about it helps. I had to see someone for a while after I recovered from my injuries. I don’t go as often anymore, but I do if I feel like I need to. Have you ever thought about seeing someone for that?” Harlow asked.

“You mean a shrink?”

“Yeah, it gets easier with time, and it helps with the healing process. I can give you a recommendation if you’re interested. No pressure, though.” She held a hand to her chest and looked adorable doing it. His mouth twitched to hide a smile, and suddenly, his heart didn’t feel so heavy.

She did that for him.

“Not sure I’d like that so much.” He shrugged. “But I’ll give it some thought.”

“Fair enough.” Harlow lifted from her knees and hugged him again. Her lush breasts rubbed against his chest, and it stirred his cock back to life. She was incredible, and he wanted her again.

“You’re beautiful, baby. Inside and out.” Toby caressed the side of her face and kissed her with everything he had. This time he was going to show how much he appreciated her by going slow with his insatiable need.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dear Harlow:

I must have the worst luck ever. Three weeks ago, I went out with some friends and met someone. We had a good time, but it was a onetime thing, and I never expected to see him again. Then last week, I go into work to meet my new boss, and it’s him. My one-night guy. Talk about awkward.

To make matters worse, just as I’m about to shake his hand, I trip over a chair, land on all fours, and split my pants open. I was mortified, while he seemed to be amused. I’ve been doing my best to avoid him ever since, but I know I’ll have to face him eventually. Any advice?

~Unlucky and Clumsy in Minneapolis~

*

Dear Unlucky:

It sounds like you have the same type of luck I do. I can choke on air and trip over my own two feet at times. It happens to the best of us, but we’re all adults here, and as such, we should be able to get past our embarrassing moments. I say go in there and confront it head-on. Act confident, like it never happened, and if he brings it up, laugh it off and move on. Life is too short to dwell on the little things we can’t change.

Best wishes,

Harlow

***

Harlow

“Here are some of my favorite girls.” Fanny clasped her hands together and pulled out a chair. “Hey, Harold. I’m on break.”

“What?” Fanny’s husband hollered from behind the bar.

“I’m taking ten minutes to myself. Hold down the fort, will ya?” she replied and turned to face everyone at the table. “Damn, I love that man, but we’re getting old, and our hearing’s not what it used to be. Not to mention everything sags, and swear to God, his farts turn to dust.” She fanned herself off, and everyone fell into shock. It was comical. Harlow spit out her drink. Calista choked on hers. Mel laughed hysterically, and Dee shook her head with a smile on her face as she patted Callie on the back.

It was a Sunday evening out with the girls at their favorite watering hole. The local pub-style restaurant where the Misfit gang frequently hung out.

“Dang, Mamma Deuce. I love that I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth next. You’re one of a kind, and that’s one of the many things I adore about you.” Mel raised her hand in the air for a high five. Which the old lady had no problem giving.

“I’ve got to keep you young ones on your toes somehow.” Fanny winked, and Harlow smiled after she wiped her mouth.

“I envy what the two of you have, and I hope one day I find somebody special enough to grow old with, dust and all.” Harlow winked back, and the proprietor laughed.

“You two are newer than these ones. I know Melody and Diamond well. Have for years now, but you…” Fanny shrugged her shoulders and gestured between Harlow and Calista. “Your names have escaped me.”

“Harlow. My name is Harlow Ross. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Harlow extended her hand to shake, and the old woman obliged.

“And I’m Calista Wyatt, but all of my friends call me Callie.” Her friend gave a wave in greeting as well.

“It’s nice to meet you two,” Fanny said. She addressed Harlow next. “You’re Toby’s new girl. I’ve heard so much about you. All great, of course.” She rubbed her hands together with glee. “About time that boy got himself someone worthy again.”

Harlow blushed. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of the Misfit boss man, has anyone seen the finished tattoo yet? I’ve been dying to catch a glimpse.” Calista looked at her expectantly. “Harlow has been wanting this for so long, and she finally took the leap.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Dee asked. “Stand up and show us the goods.”

“Here?” Harlow looked around the semi-busy establishment.

Mel just gave her a “well, duh” look, and she took a deep breath.

Here goes nothing. Well, not nothing because the tattoo, it’s everything. Okay, shut up, Har, and get on with it.

She lifted her shirt and looked down at the artwork she was in love with. “I can’t wait to see it when all of the scabbing falls off, but it’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

“Holy shit. Yeah!” Dee exclaimed.

“There’s nothing ‘kind of’ about it,” Callie said. “It is absolutely perfect for you.”

“Now that’s some sexy work.” Mel clapped her hands together.

“Bitchin’,” Fanny chimed in, and Harlow couldn’t agree more.

“You’ve got me curious. Who spilled the beans? Did Toby talk about Harlow with you? We want details,” Mel said before Harlow had the chance. She had to admit, she was just as curious. She fixed her shirt and took a seat.

“You know how hard it is to get that boy to open up. Pshhh…” Fanny waved a hand in the air, as if to dismiss that thought. “It was your brother.”

“Carson?” Mel did a double take. “Really?”

“Mm hm. The last few times he was in, he mentioned Toby got himself hooked up with a hot piece. Said she was a doctor and wrote for some fancy magazine. I was impressed. Also said she was a nice girl. Thought she was great for Toby. Hoped that his pal would take a chance and not fuck it up too bad. It’s about time, too.” Fanny reached across the table and took Harlow’s hand. “He’s a great catch, once you get through all the broken pieces. And, honey, I have a feeling, with all I heard and seeing you now, that you’re sweet enough, smart enough, and strong enough to help him be whole again. Doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes.” She fanned herself. “If only I were thirty years younger.”

“That’s for sure,” Callie agreed, and she gave Harlow a sheepish smile. “What? Anyone with eyes can see Toby’s gorgeous. That said, I also love that he’s good to you and makes you happy.”

Harlow nodded. “We’re not making any promises right now. But he really does make me happy, and…” She took a deep breath. “I’ve already fallen hard for him.”

“Glad to hear it.” Dee squealed, and she hugged Mel, who smiled, and it lit up her whole face.

“For the record, I’m not a medical doctor. I’m a psychologist, and I write for Twin City Women’s Magazine. My column is called Harlow Helps.”

“Oh, I know. I checked you out as soon as Carson talked. Like I said earlier, I was quite impressed.” Fanny stood. “Well, ladies, I’m afraid my break is up. Can I take your orders before I go?”

“We’ll get our refills from Harold at the bar.” Melody held up her beer. “We’d love a couple plates of nachos to share, if you’re headed to the kitchen. Everyone okay with nachos?”

“Sounds good,” Harlow replied as everyone else nodded their agreement. “Thank you, Fanny.”

“Anything for my favorite girls.” The older woman turned to walk away and stopped to look over her shoulder one last time. “See you in a bit.”

“I guess it’s fair to say my brother likes you. Both as a person, and at the thought of you with Toby. That’s good,” Melody said. Harlow turned from watching Fanny saunter away to look at her. “He’s been tight with Toby a long time now, and I know Carson’s opinion matters to Tob.”

“Cheers.” Harlow held up her glass of wine as the other three did the same with their drinks and took a sip. It was time for a subject change, and there was something bothering her. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually.”

“Uh oh. What’s up?” Mel asked.

“Toby finally talked to me the other night, and I figured out he’s your Mr. Idiosyncratic.” Harlow gave her a wide-eyed stare as she tried not to divulge too much information. Dee and Calista looked between her and Mel like they were lost.

“That’s huge!” Her friend got up to give her a hug and sat back down. “You know that, right? Toby doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“I figured out that much. Now I’m not sure what to do,” Harlow admitted.

“Are you talking about the letter?” Dee asked. Harlow felt somewhat relieved that she knew as well. “Mel got me to read it when she originally planned to send it to the column.”

“Letter? What letter?” Callie asked.

Mel saved her from having to explain further. “I’ve known Toby for a very long time. He’s like family to me. A couple years ago, his fiancé died in a fire that trapped them both. He’s been stuck inside his grief over what happened ever since. I was worried about him and wrote a letter to Harlow with my concerns. Instead of sending it in, I was able to give it to her in person, thanks to your introduction,” she said. “I used a code name and called him Mr. Idiosyncratic to try and keep a little anonymity. Looks like it’s all aired out now, since Toby shared his past with Harlow, and she now knows the letter was about him.”

“Wow, that was a mouthful,” Calista said. “What’s the big deal about the letter?”

Harlow turned to look at her like she was crazy for not getting it. “The big deal is I feel like I should tell him about it. I’m afraid he might be upset that I knew about his tragedy, even though I wasn’t sure it was about him at the time. Make sense?” She rubbed her temples. “I also can’t say anything because Mel gave me the letter in confidence, and it’d be ethically wrong to break that trust.”

“I honestly think you’re worrying for nothing,” Mel said. “I think it’s great that he told you his story, but there’s no reason Toby needs to know what I wrote to you. He’d probably just get really pissed off at me for it. I was worried. Now I look at him, and thanks to you, I see so much improvement. He never has to know about it. I know I won’t say anything. So why would you?”

Harlow swallowed a lump in her throat. She had a bad feeling about this, but she also had to respect Melody’s wishes, even if she disagreed. Her gut was still telling her to lay everything out. Instead of arguing her point, she gave in. “If that’s what you feel is best. I guess I just felt guilty, like I’m withholding something from him. I don’t want to betray his trust or yours.”

“Everything will be okay. You’ll see,” Dee assured her. “Our lips are sealed.”

“If you’re sure.” Harlow sighed. She mimicked zipping her mouth closed before throwing away an imaginary key. They knew her concerns, talked about them, and there was nothing more to be done for the time being but to move on. She took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. There were a lot of good things going on in her life, and she wanted to count her blessings instead of worrying about the little things she couldn’t change.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Toby

Toby snorted the minute their Uber pulled up and he saw the neon sign. Leave it to Carson to find every strip club in the area. His buddy looked excited to be there, though, so he’d suck it up and try to have a good time. Since he’d met Harlow, a variety of tits and ass didn’t have the same appeal as it used to. He had hers, and that’s all he needed. She was the bright light in his dreary existence.

“Welcome to The Busy Beaver.” Carson slapped him on the shoulder as they now stood near the entrance. The place seemed nice enough. The large brick building looked like it might have once been a warehouse of some sort once upon a time. It seemed to be newly renovated and classy enough.

Rebel laughed and rubbed his hands together as he strode to the entrance. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

“You coming in or what?” Carson waved him forward, and Toby took a deep breath of fresh air before he followed them inside.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Carson dramatically clutched his chest and stumbled backwards as they took in the establishment. Toby rolled his eyes. Lord knew he loved him like a brother, but he was a little over the top at times like these.

There was a long granite bar to the left of them, maybe six feet away. It was busy with both patrons and waitresses alike. Several tables and booths were situated to the right. They had a large stage going from one end of the place to the other like a catwalk, only with a pole. Then there was another section blocked by red velvet rope. The people in that area got extra attention, it seemed, and a bottle service. It made him wonder how much cash they had to fork over to sit there. Two bouncers stood by the entrance behind them—big, rough-looking dudes, too. They were muscle heads who looked like they’d taken a few too many steroids a time or two. There were more, of course, all over the place, but he couldn’t care less. Toby continued to check the place out and spotted the champagne room, VIP section, as if the sign itself wasn’t obvious. It was upstairs through a thick velvet curtain—the place where you got to have your own private show, if you had the extra cash. He figured if Carson got too annoying the way he was drooling and all, he might buy him some time in there, at some point, to catch a break.

“Dude,” Rebel called out over the loud music and nudged his shoulder. “I think I see some seats over by the pool tables.”

“You go grab them, and I’ll get the first round.” Toby tilted his head toward the bar and headed in that direction without waiting for a response.

The women were really working it tonight. He was approached no less than ten times or more in a five-minute time span for a dance. In the past, he would have been all over them, but he just wasn’t feeling it tonight. They were gorgeous, but they weren’t…her. His mind went back to Harlow, of course. They’d been spending a lot of time together, and he loved every minute of it. She was great, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her, especially when they weren’t together. He was fucked. Totally falling head over heels and enjoying it. Then there were times the guilt consumed him.

Damn it, James. Get your head on straight. Enjoy the night.

Of course, that only made him wonder how she was enjoying her night.

Shit!

“What can I get you, man?” the bartender asked.

Toby sighed. “Give me three Coors Light.” He held up three fingers and placed some cash on the bar top.

“Tap or bottle?”

“Bottles.” The guy nodded in his direction and took the cash with him. He returned a minute later with the three bottles of brew. “Keep the change.”

With a nod, the bartender was on to the next person while Toby made his way to where his friends sat ogling the woman on stage.

“Big applause for Chantel, everyone,” the MC announced.

The crowd cheered louder, and Rebel let out a loud whistle for the dancer who just finished her performance as she exited the stage. Toby smiled and sat back as the man on the loudspeaker continued to introduce the next act. The lights dimmed, and a lone spotlight shone bright in the direction of the entrance from backstage.

Ladies and gentlemen, please give a rowdy welcome to our very own Lacey! She’s new, she’s wild, and she’s got all the right moves. Give it up!

A sexy silhouette stood still, waiting for the beat of the music to start up, before storming through the curtain that separated her from the rest of them. She was tall, she was stacked, and she was toned, with curves in all the right places. Toby could totally see the appeal, and yet she still had nothing on a certain brunette he couldn’t wait to see again.

A pretty lace mask covered the top part of her face, and when the beat of Our Darkest Days’ “Porn Star Dancing” began to play, he was in awe. This Lacey could really dance. Straight, long, blonde hair cascaded down her back as she ripped off her top hat and threw it into the crowd. The hollers, whistles, and cat calls were non-stop throughout. The white dress shirt she wore was the next to be ripped off as she sauntered forward like a woman on a mission. The top parts of her breasts bounced on top of her sheer bra, and her hips swayed to the beat. She exuded a sexy confidence he admired. Lacey’s hands worked her body like magic, and damn, the woman was flexible. She bent forward and shimmied out of her shorts. It gave the men behind her a perfect view of her smooth round ass. All that remained was her thong. Once she discarded her bottoms, she stepped back a few paces threw her leg up in the air and grabbed her ankle until it touched her ear. She held the position and twirled for everyone. It was quite the site to behold, and he was sure every cock in the vicinity was rock hard.

Carson spit out his beer, choked on it, and groaned. “Fuck me!” Toby smirked as his best friend scooted closer to the table. Carson leaned forward without taking his eyes off the very intriguing dancer. The man was mesmerized, and he couldn’t blame him one bit.

Lacey pumped her hips and crawled sexily across the stage to accept a bit of the cash from the eager customers in pervert’s row. When she reached the pole, she sat up, arched her back, and slid up to a standing position. Her legs wrapped around it, and she climbed to the top. She spun herself around and round, flipped herself upside down, and stretch out as she hung on backwards. Her smile was radiant, and her body was slick.

“Holy crap. Look at that,” Rebel said. The guy rubbed his eyes and did a double take. Toby smirked and took a chug of the bottle in front of him. The amber liquid went down smoothly, and he wasn’t sure which he was enjoying more: the performance on stage or watching the two knuckleheads beside him completely entranced. He’d known each for a while now. Carson for longer, of course, and he couldn’t recall the last time a woman seemed to affect them like this.

“I call dibs, you fuckers.” Carson gulped. “I think I’m in love.”

Rebel snorted, and Toby chuckled. “Fine with me. I’m into Harlow anyway.”

“Glad to hear it.” Rebel winked then addressed Carson. “Good luck with that. I bet every guy in here feels the same way.”

Carson flipped him off, and Toby shook his head. The song was coming to an end. Lacey reached up to grip the bar and twirled herself back down the pole. Once her feet were secure on the stage, she did a complete body flip and landed gracefully with her arms in the air. She blew the entire establishment a kiss for her finale.

It was a fucking epic performance, and the bar went wild with applause.

“I’ve got to see if I can get a lock on some time with the lovely Lacey.” Carson abruptly stood and went in search of someone who worked there to get his dance. Rebel’s shoulders shook with laughter, and Toby rolled his eyes.

“Damn, Reb. Never thought I’d see the day. Carson’s already hooked.”

“It’ll be fun to see how this plays out. Got a feeling our boy’s going to be a regular from now on until he gets this chick out of his system.” Rebel grinned and shook his head as if in disbelief. “Want to play some pool?”

“Sounds good, brother. Go wrack them up.” Toby followed Rebel to one of the vacant pool tables and kicked some ass at it for the most part. It wasn’t long before Carson joined them, sulking.

“She’s not available for a private dance. What kind of bullshit is that?”

Toby shrugged. “Don’t know man. Want to play the winner?” He gestured to the pool table.

Rebel gave him a chin lift, and soon, the entertainment was put to the back of everyone’s mind. They enjoyed the game, each other’s company, and the drinks they slugged back. It turned out to be a good night, after all.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dear Harlow:

Why do good things always come to an end? I just got dumped. We were together a year and a half, and he left me for my sister, of all people. I’m so hurt and angry I’d just love to kick both their A$$@$. So, while I take a deep breath and remind myself I look horrible in orange, I’m at a loss on how to proceed.

I did throw all his crap to the curb, him included. And my sister, well, she can kiss my…I’ll leave that to your imagination. Have you ever had this type of situation happen on the column before? Any tips to get through it?

The man, I can get over eventually. The jerkoff told me he was sleeping with her while we were on an intimate dinner date. Like a sucker, I thought I was there because he was going to propose. Boy was I wrong.

Do you think I’ll be able to salvage the relationship with my sister one day? Sadly, we used to be so close, but as it stands, it doesn’t feel like I’ll ever be able to forgive her betrayal. Help!

If anything, it was just nice to vent, and let’s face it, I cried too.

~Hopeless, Hurt, and Betrayed in Minneapolis~

*

Dear Hopeless, Hurt, and Betrayed:

First, I believe your Prince Charming is out there. I’m sure of it. It just takes some of us longer to find him than others.

Secondly, some good things come to an end because they just weren’t meant to be. Unfortunately, we get cheating stories written in often. They don’t get any easier, and there is no right answer or tips to follow. You did the right thing by getting rid of him as soon as you could. The man sounds like a real loser, and you deserve better.

It’s always best to know your self-worth.

Thirdly, as for your sister, that’s a tough one that only you can answer. She isn’t worthy of your trust or your time, but who knows what the future holds for you both? It could change.

In the meantime, cry some more, scream, or punch a pillow to get out those frustrations to make you feel better. And always know you can write in anytime to vent, as you put it. I’m happy to lend you an ear.

Big Hugs,

Harlow

***

Harlow

Time flew by as summer turned into fall. Harlow and Toby had been together for a couple of months now. It was confusing trying to label what they were. Toby warned her he wasn’t sure he could deal with a serious relationship from the beginning, but as time went on, she couldn’t help but want the commitment. She was his, regardless, and Harlow knew without a doubt that she loved him wholeheartedly. Scars and all. Just as she suspected he was in denial and might love her too.

It was a chilly October evening, and Harlow pulled the lapels of her jacket closer together against the wind as she walked down Main Street. She was meeting up with Toby at St. Anthony’s Main Theater for their date. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, leaning forward on the tips of her toes so she could give him a kiss. “What are we seeing?”

“In the spirit of this time of year, I figured we could see Halloween. You can’t beat the classics.” Toby grinned. “Feel free to get as close as possible if you get scared.”

“Hm, I just might,” she said. “I’ve seen all of the old ones. Let’s just hope this new one is just as good as the rest. Can you believe it’s been, like, forty years since the original came out on the big screen?”

“That just makes me feel like I’m getting old when you put it that way.” Toby chuckled as he handed her a ticket to get in. “It came out a little before my time, but like you, I’ve still seen them all.”

“Okay, then.” Harlow giggled. “Come on, old man. I need some popcorn.”

“I’ll show you old,” Toby said. Harlow squealed in delight as he lifted her up and spun her around.

“Okay, okay.” Harlow held onto him as he put her down and enjoyed his comforting embrace for a moment longer. “My man’s not old at all. He’s a thirty-three-year-old sexy, manly man. Big, tough, and talented. Now can I have my popcorn?”

“Your man, huh?” Toby winked. “I like the sound of that.”

Heck yeah! Well, okay then.

Harlow smirked as Toby grabbed her hand and led the way to the concession stand. It was such a good start to the night. She couldn’t wait for the rest and decided tonight was the night she was going to tell him the depth of her feelings. She just hoped it didn’t backfire.

“Just one more thing before the movie starts,” Harlow said. They had their popcorn and jumbo drinks on hand and had just sat down in the packed theater. “Scared or not, I want to be close to you, Toby. Will you hold me later, if I need it?”

“Oh, baby.” Toby leaned in closer. “I’ll hold you, kiss you, touch you…” The lights dimmed, and the movie began when Toby showed her with one hell of a kiss that left her breathless.

Almost two hours later, they were back outside again, walking hand in hand and on their way to Harlow’s place. Her apartment was closer than his to the theater.

“So how was your dinner with Calista?” Toby asked. Calista had called Harlow earlier in the day asking for a little girl time to talk about a few issues she was having. Which was why she’d met Toby at the theater instead of going with him from the start.

“It went well, considering. She’s got a lot on her mind right now with work. She’s thinking of leaving the restaurant and opening up her own catering business.”

Toby whistled. “It’s good to have goals. I hope it all works out for her, then.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harlow said. “She’s been working at Caliente for the last four years as a sous chef and loving it. But now there’s a new owner, and from what I hear, he’s a real piece of work. Calista is such a strong person, a hard worker, and she’s resilient, so I have no doubt she’ll succeed at whatever she puts her mind to. I’m not very worried at this point.”

“Caliente? I’ve never been.” Toby shrugged. “What kind of restaurant is it?”

“It’s an upscale place with French-inspired cuisine. I’ve only been once myself, to tell you the truth, when Calista started there. It’s good food but really hard on the wallet.” Harlow smiled. “I could take you there sometime, if you’d like.”

“I’d go anywhere with you, babe,” Toby said.

“Aw, look.” Harlow pointed across the street toward an elderly couple. The old man was helping his wife down some building steps. “They’re as cute together as Fanny and Dusty. Don’t you think? That’s the type of love I hope to find some day—everlasting.”

Toby looked confused. “Who?”

“Who what?” It was Harlow’s turn now.

“You said Fanny and Dusty. I don’t know anybody named Dusty, and last time I checked, Mamma Deuce was a happily married woman.” Toby’s eyebrow arched.

“Well, she is.” Harlow blushed. “I just forgot his name. Last time I went to Fanny’s with the girls, she joined us for a bit. When she sat down for her break, she told us, and I quote: ‘Damn, I love that man, but we’re getting old and our hearing’s not what it used to be. Not to mention everything sags, and swear to God his farts turn to dust.’ I just figured I’d call her husband Dusty until we were formally introduced.”

Toby guffawed, and she loved it. It was a full, hearty laugh from deep in his belly, and her chest felt like it swelled with pride for helping him with that. He needed to smile and laugh more.

“Holy shit!” Toby wiped his eyes. “His name’s Harold, babe. Fanny’s husband is Harold. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in years.”

Harlow stopped and pulled him to a halt with her. She reached up and cupped the sides of his face. “Happy is a good look for you. You deserve this and so much more. I hope you realize that because I sometimes wonder.”

“Yes, thanks to you,” Toby said. He wrapped his arms around her until she was flush against him for a kiss. The wind picked up, and she shivered, but it wasn’t until the downpour of rain fell on top of them that they broke apart breathlessly. Harlow laughed, and Toby smiled as she stepped back tipped her head up and twirled around the wet sidewalk.

“This moment feels magical. Don’t you think?” she asked. “I feel so elated. Typical autumn weather be damned.” Harlow picked that moment to jump into a puddle and dance in the rain.

Toby chuckled. “Come here, crazy woman, before you get yourself sick.” Toby held out his hand and pulled her close again as soon as she reached for him. He pressed his forehead to hers and just breathed her in. She loved it. Her hair was plastered to her face, and fat drops of water dripped off his. “As much as I love to see you so happy and carefree like this, I think it’s time to get out of the cold. I’ll take you home, then you can let me love you properly.”

“An offer I’d never refuse,” Harlow replied. She gripped his hand tighter and led the way as they ran the few last remaining blocks to her apartment complex.

***

Toby

The minute they walked in, Toby slammed the door closed with his foot and pressed her against the wall to devour her mouth. He needed her, couldn’t ever get enough, and at times, it drove him crazy. To want someone this much was just insane, but there, he was feeling it. They tore at each other’s clothes. It took a bit of effort seeing as they were soaked from the rain. Instead of running like a normal person would when the downpour started, Harlow had embraced it. She’d danced in the rain for him like he used to as a kid, and fuck was it ever nice to be carefree for once. She did that to him. Made him want to be a better man. To enjoy life again. She was a lifeline for him after feeling like he’d been drowning for so long. It was like he could finally breathe again. Damn it, and now he was thinking nonsense. He grunted when he finally got her shirt off and dropped to his knees so he could work on her jeans. “I’ve got to take you here, hard and fast, then we’ll go slow, I promise.” He looked up past her heaving chest to see her nodding eagerly, as if she felt the same way, and he smirked. He yanked her underwear at the same time he shimmied her pants down her legs and cursed when her clothes got caught on her shoes.

Christ!

When she was finally free, he stood up and threw each article behind him. Toby took just enough time to unzip, pull his dick out, and enter her in one smooth stroke to the hilt. He just didn’t have the patience for his own clothes right then. The pull was too strong. Harlow’s legs wrapped around his waist as he furiously thrust into her over and over. He could swear nothing ever felt as good as this, as she did when they were joined. That thought alone normally scared the shit out of him. Harlow threw her head back and moaned. Her nails dug into his shoulders. It was a move she did often, and she ran them down his back as she held on for the ride. Her fingers trailed back up into his hair, gripping hard, and she directed him back to her mouth. The minute her soft lush mouth met his, she opened for him. Their tongues touched, caressed, and tasted. Her hips moved to meet his, matching his frenzied pace. He knew it wasn’t going to last much longer. Her pussy was so wet, warm, and smooth, tight, and it fit him like he was made to be there. “So close.” Toby trembled. “Come for me. Let me feel it before I let go.”

“Kay.” Harlow nodded. She licked the index finger on her left hand and moved it between them to reach between her legs and play with her clit. She rubbed in circles slowly at first and then faster the more she got worked up.

“Fucking sexy,” Toby growled and slammed in faster.

Harlow cried out. “Yes, almost there, almost—holy shit, Toby! Toby!” The minute she gushed, hell, the second he felt her pulse, he erupted until he was weak in the knees. His forehead was pressed against the hallway wall as he tried to catch his breath, and Harlow rubbed his back to give him a minute.

“You okay?” She gave him a quick kiss on the side of his head before he straightened to look at her.

“Never better.” He smiled and squeezed her ass as he carried her to her bedroom while they were still joined. “It’s not every day I’m left breathless and in need of a minute before I can move again. He winked, and she giggled.

“You say the nicest things,” she teased and laughed out loud as she bounced on the bed when he dropped her in the middle of it.

“Do I?” Toby shook his head and finally got undressed. She amused him. He liked that they could be playful before, during, and after making love. It was refreshing.

Harlow nodded. “Let’s take a nap before round two. I’m feeling a little tired.”

“Anything for you, babe.” He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead and pulled the covers back before joining in. She was on her side, and he closed the distance to spoon with her. His front to her back, she grabbed his hand to hold and placed it near her heart. It was quiet, blissfully so. Minutes had passed, and just as he was about to fall asleep, Harlow being Harlow kept him on his toes and surprised him.

“Toby?” she whispered. “Are you still awake?”

“Hm,” he mumbled.

“I love you.”

Unbeknownst to Harlow, his eyes popped open. She wiggled a bit as if to get comfortable, and her breathing evened out before he could think to respond. Unlike the woman in his arms, sleep eluded him. Those three words were game changing, as much as he liked hearing them.

There was no doubt Harlow was an amazing woman, and there were feelings; he felt them for her, knew without a doubt he wanted her in his life. There hadn’t been another woman since they got together. He didn’t want anyone else.

But to have her love me?

He knew if he gave into his heart, it would just make him feel guilty, and he had to figure out how to get past it.

He owed it to them both so they could keep what they’d built together.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dear Harlow:

I’ve been good friends with this guy for about four years now. He’s my brother’s roommate, who we’ll call Jack, and lately, I’ve been feeling more than I should for him. Last weekend, we were drinking and hooked up for the first time. It was amazing, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know what to do. Should I lay it all out there and see if he feels the same? Or should I try to move on? We have the same group of friends, and I’m afraid to ruin what we already have. I don’t want to lose him, either way. Help!

~Confused and Crushing in Minneapolis~

*

Dear Confused and Crushing:

Some of the best relationships start off with being friends first before starting something more. Talk to Jack. I’m sure it was just as amazing for him as it was for you. There is nothing wrong with giving in to your urges every now and again. Communication is key here, and I say, lay it all out there. You may have regrets later if you don’t.

Worst case scenario, he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you remain friends. Best case, your desires are met, he feels the same way, and you all live happily ever after.

I’m rooting for you.

All my best,

Harlow

***

Harlow

The pitter patter of heavy rain drops against the bedroom window woke Harlow. She stretched with a smile on her face as she thought about the night before. The movie, playing in the rain, and Toby taking her hard against the wall. He’d woken her periodically through the night for some more sexy times too, and she felt well and truly loved. It was amazing.

The soft cotton of Toby’s shirt caressed her body as her back arched in a stretch. She threw her arms above her head and moaned before she opened her eyes fully. The sight of her delectable tattooist sitting up beside her in bed was what greeted her. And what a sight to behold. He was half naked, nothing on but his jeans open at the fly. He looked completely relaxed with a coffee in one hand and a piece of paper he was reading in the other.

“Hey, handsome. You been up long?”

“About an hour.” He gripped the paper tighter and gave her a look she didn’t quite understand. “Figured I’d let you sleep a bit more, make some coffee, and I’d relax a little seeing as I took the day off to spend it with you. Funny how plans can change in a split second, though, huh?”

“Excuse me? Forgive me for being a little confused here, but I just woke up. What’s wrong?” It wasn’t necessarily what he said, it was more about his body language. Something had changed in his demeanour from last night to this morning, and whatever it was, it wasn’t good. He looked hurt, maybe even a little pissed off at her.

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” Toby put his mug down on the ground and waited for her to respond.

Harlow sat up. “I don’t know. Should I?”

“What the fuck, Harlow. You knew!” He waved the paper around and shoved it in her face. “Here I was agonizing over telling you about my past with Carley, and you already fucking knew about it, with this. I trusted you. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? To move on and be with you.”

“I-I didn’t know at first.” She got on her knees to plead when he sprang up from his seat to pace in front of the bed. She reached out for him, but he brushed her off, and she could feel the moment her heart broke. It was beating so hard, it felt like it was about to be ripped right from her chest at any moment. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Please let me explain.”

“Then talk,” he said. He sounded exasperated with her. “Who the fuck wrote this? Was it made public? You put it in your column?”

“Where did you find that?” Harlow bit her lip to keep from sobbing. She’d never seen him this upset.

“Really? That’s your first question. I can’t believe this shit.” Toby sat down abruptly on the side of the bed and put on his socks. “Word to the wise, Harlow. You try to keep something from someone, you don’t leave it out in the open. The letter was on the damn counter beside your other mail. Saw it while I was making my coffee.”

She remembered then. She’d taken the letter out of her purse the other night, debating on whether she should just get rid of it. She’d meant to after her talk with Mel a little while ago but then forgot about it. When she was with Toby, they mostly went to his place. Rarely did they come to her apartment. Only they had last night because it was closer.

Harlow nodded in acknowledgement. “I received the letter before we even met from someone who was worried about you. As a favor to them, I never made it public. I promise you, it never made it in Twin City. It was only after you told me what happened that I realized this letter was about you. Toby, I swear it. I know you’re upset but…”

“Who?” He turned his head sideways to look at her again, and this time, her sob escaped. He looked so haunted, defeated, and betrayed. She couldn’t stand it.

“I-I can’t tell you.” It came out as a whisper, and she winced. Her response sounded bad, even to her own ears. “I’m sorry, but I have an ethical responsibility to keep my source confidential.”

“Well, fuck you and your ethics.” Toby jumped up again, buttoned up his pants, and pointed an accusing finger in her direction. He looked her up and down with a curl of his lip and snarled. “Keep my shirt. I don’t want it, or you, for that matter.”

“You don’t mean that.” Harlow quickly followed as he charged out of her bedroom. “I can understand that you might need time to think about all of this, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I would never intentionally hurt you. I love you, Toby, and I haven’t loved anyone since before Lily died. You’re the first person I’ve been with since. The first person who understood what I really went through when I lost her. Take some time, but don’t shut me out. We’re good together.” She wiped the tears that were clouding her vision, and Toby looked anguished.

“It’s too late,” he replied, wiping some moisture from his own eyes. “I warned you I didn’t think I had forever in me anymore. Why do you think I didn’t say I loved you back? I heard you last night, and I’m hearing you now. Forget about us. Better yet, forget about me. As you can see, I’m damaged goods.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Harlow was at her snapping point now. She had to get through to him before he walked out. As it stood, he was zipping up his jacket and putting on his shoes to leave. He’d be out the door in a minute. “You were right. It is too late because you’re amazing, Toby, whether you want to see it in yourself or not. I could never forget you or what we have. You’re the one throwing it away, so that’s on you. I just hope it’s not too late when you realize what a mistake you’ve made by walking out that door.”

“At this point, it’s a chance I’ll have to take,” he said. He yanked open the door and looked over his shoulder. “You should have told me. Trust is not something I give lightly.”

By the time Toby walked out, Harlow was shaking. She collapsed in a heap in the same hallway they’d made love in the night before. She was heartbroken, utterly devastated by his reaction, and she cursed him for his stubborn ways. She should have known better.

Toby was obviously stuck in the past, not ready to move on, no matter how much patience she gave him or how much she’d tried to help him feel better. This morning had been an eye opener, and she was beginning to lose hope.

How was she ever supposed to compete with a ghost?

They had been doomed from the start.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Toby

As soon as the door shut behind him, he banged his head against it. He could hear Harlow sobbing from inside, and it tore him apart. He just felt so violated, and his anger got the best of him. He needed to leave and cool down, but first, he was going to get to the bottom of this. That letter bugged him, and he was determined to find out who wrote it. It was clearly from someone who knew him well. That left only about a handful of people, and they all needed to mind their own fucking business. Let him live his own life. He finally had a good woman again, but she was better off without him. Wasn’t she?

Shit!

Toby yanked at his hair and walked away while he still could. His heart ached, but he’d brought that on himself. He should be used to it by now. After hailing a cab, he phoned Misfit, and Diamond answered. “Misfit Tattoo, Dee speaking. How may I help you?”

“It’s me,” he said. “We need a meeting, and I’ll need everyone present for it. I’ll be at the shop in that hour we close for lunch. There are things that need to be said, and I don’t want to repeat myself. We clear?”

“Crystal. Everything all right?” Dee asked.

Toby was quick to reply. “I’ll be there soon enough, and you’ll find out.”

“Whoa,” she said. “Okay, then. I’ll let everyone know we’re having lunch in the break room today. Anything else, boss?”

Toby sighed. “No, I’ll see you soon, Dee.”

“Uh huh. Soon,” she replied before hanging up.

As he disconnected, Toby rubbed a hand down his face and pocketed his phone. He looked out the cab’s window to the blurry sites of the city he loved, and he already knew it was going to be a long-ass day ahead.

When he made it home, he went straight upstairs to take a shower and grab a beer before confronting his friends. There was some time to kill, and it was five o’clock somewhere in the world. Today, he needed it.

When he woke up this morning, the plans he’d made with Harlow had held so much promise. He’d wanted to spend all of it with her, from sun up to sun down. Show her with actions what he had a hard time saying with words, about how much he cared. Only because of hurt feelings and pride, he’d ended their relationship instead. He kept telling himself it was easier this way. He was so fucked up. He didn’t deserve her, anyway. Toby’s hands fisted at his sides, and he took a few deep breaths to calm down. One beer turned into two before he headed into Misfit for the confrontation.

When he got there, Carson was waiting in the lobby. They put a ‘BE BACK IN AN HOUR’ sign on the door and locked up. “Hey, man. Everyone’s waiting for us in the break room.”

True to his word, when he walked in with Carson, everyone was sitting at the table, eating pizza. They all looked up when they saw him and quieted down.

Rebel gave him a nod in acknowledgement, Dee waved, Carson grabbed himself a slice, and Mel was the first one to speak up. “What’s up, Tob? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay, so I’ll get to it. Harlow and I are done. I just ended it this morning. You probably won’t be seeing her around much anymore. I know some of you are friends with her, and what you do on your own time is your business.” He shrugged and leaned against the wall, pretending he wasn’t affected by this news in the least. It was a crock of shit, but they didn’t need to know that. He was pissed off; that’s what they needed to see. “She lied to me and is protecting one of you while doing it.”

“What the fuck?” Carson sat up.

“Are you serious?” Rebel folded his arms across his chest. “Letting that woman go would be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” he grumbled.

Toby ignored him. “Who wrote the letter?” He watched each of them closely. Carson and Rebel looked confused, if not a little disappointed in him. Dee’s eyes went wide, and Mel stayed quiet. He had his answer. As suspected, it was one of the girls. He should have known it’d be between those two.

He pointed at Dee. “Was it you?” He stood up straighter and took a step toward her. Shockingly, he was interrupted from his interrogation when Melody’s chair fell over with a loud crash, and she rushed out of the room. He watched her go then gave Diamond the stink eye. “Talk!”

“It wasn’t me, but I knew about it.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “You’ve been destructive for a long time now, Toby, and we were all worried. Especially when you shut most of us out. Did you read it? Because what was said was nothing horrible, and it never went public. Only a few people have seen it. Me, Harlow, and Mel. I’ll tell you one thing, though, Rebel’s right. You are a dumbass if you left Harlow because of this. That woman loves you, and until this moment, it was nice to see you happy again.”

“Do I look happy to you?” he roared, back on the defensive. “You have no idea what I went through or how it felt after Carley died. I was crushed, and it’s not a situation you just get over. Is it?” He exhaled loudly. “Harlow lied to me about it when I told her. She already knew and didn’t tell me shit that she did. I trusted her. Then, this morning, I find it on her counter, and she didn’t have the decency to tell me who even wrote the thing. She refused to tell me!”

Dee flinched in her spot as his yelling got louder. Toby’s face was red, and a vein throbbed in his forehead.

“It was me, you idiot.” Mel charged up to him, and he spun around to face her. “Now sit your ass down for your own good and hear me out.”

“I’m good right here.” Toby narrowed his eyes and folded his arms while everyone else looked at their standoff.

“Whatever.” Melody threw her hands in the air. “You read the original letter I gave to Harlow, but you never read her response.” She threw Harlow’s written words at him, and he bent to pick them up. “Now, listen to me, Toby James. She didn’t know it was you when I gave her the letter. I never used your real name. When Harlow finally figured it out, she confronted me and all but begged me to let her come clean. I didn’t think it was a big deal and brushed her off. That was my mistake, and I’ll own up to it. She couldn’t tell you because it goes against the grain. She’s a psychologist, for Christ’s sake. She got her degree from Stanford. Haven’t you ever heard of doctor-patient confidentiality? I know she works for the magazine now, but the same ethics apply, Toby. I wrote the letter; therefore, she needed my permission to tell you. She treated my situation, or should I say yours, as if I was in her shrink’s chair. The person you should be mad at is me.” She pointed at her chest and closed any remaining distance between them.

“Oh, I’m pissed off.” Toby pointed his finger at her this time. “You had no right.”

“I was worried!” Mel screamed. “You were on a downward spiral. You were wearing yourself out and wouldn’t listen to anybody. You had a different woman almost every night, worked more than you slept, and you barely ate. If I had known you were about to fall for Harlow and get your stubborn head out of your ass, maybe I wouldn’t have done anything, but I’m not psychic. We’re more than friends, Toby, more than boss and employee. You’re my family. It might not be by blood, but you’re still my brother, and I love you, so smarten up and do it fast. We’ve all had enough of this shit, and you’re using it as an excuse to push away the woman you’re crazy about.”

“I know what I feel. I don’t need you to tell me, and it’s easier said than done.” Toby sulked. By the time Mel stopped yelling at him, it was as if the fight had suddenly left him. “You’re still on my shit list.”

Mel rolled her eyes, threw her hands in the air again, and slammed the door shut behind her as she left the room.

Carson stood, slowly approached Toby, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “All right, brother, why don’t we take a breather? I think you should go home, read that response, and we’ll take it one day at a time until we can get past all this. But do me a favor and think on it hard so you can come to the right decision. Get your woman back. She’s the real deal, and I envy you that. The one-night stands get old, man. Reach for your happy and hold on tight. She’s worth it. You know it, and despite what you think, you deserve it. This is for keeps.”

Toby sighed. He’d read it and think about what Carson said, but first, he needed another drink to ease the pain of betrayal he still felt.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dear Readers:

It’s been awhile since the roles were reversed, and today is one of those days. I love when you write in every week. Helping people has always been a passion of mine. It’s rewarding, and I’d like to thank you all for the support you give to both me and this column. Only for this article, I’m giving you me again.

A few months back, I was introduced to a group of really great people, and they fast became my friends. We’ll call them Rae, Parker, Tyler, Romeo, and James. You see, Lily’s birthday was coming up, and I wanted to get a tattoo, my very first in her honor. Not only that but the placement would also cover some of the physical scars left on me from the accident. I had this idea that it would turn my ugly into something beautiful again, just like my little girl was.

I met Tyler first at a dinner with my best friend. Tyler worked at this highly sought-after tattoo parlor and convinced me to come check it out, so I wouldn’t chicken out.

Tyler’s a fan of Harlow Helps, and she asked me to look at a letter she wrote, but she was nervous about sharing it publicly. She was worried about someone she cared for, and as a favor, I decided to keep it private. I promised her I’d have a look and that I’d reply with a letter of my own when we met up again. It seemed simple enough.

This letter, although written with good intentions, turned out to be about someone I came to love.

It was when I went to the tattoo parlor that I met James for the first time.

I was there to meet Tyler, but she was busy with a client, and it was just me and James up front. There was an instant magnetism that I’ve never felt before, and he was so nice, in personality and to look at. We talked about the tattoo I wanted, and James took it upon himself to make my dream into a reality. He drew my idea and then later gave me the most beautiful tattoo I could imagine. He’s that good of an artist.

That same night, I ran into Romeo, Tyler’s twin brother. He’s an adorable man who can make anyone laugh with his cheesy pick-up lines and easy-going persona. A man you can’t help but like.

A few days later, I was introduced to Rae, a vivacious woman with a big personality, and Parker, a broody bad boy with a heart of gold. For the first time in a long time, my life was looking up, and all because these five people welcomed me into their group with open arms.

Since my daughter died, I became a loner by choice, and I never realized how lonely I’d become.

James was a kindred spirit. He understood me, unlike anyone else I met, because he suffered from his own loss and knew grief as well as I did.

Our relationship grew, and we couldn’t fight the attraction for much longer. He’s someone so special, with a tremendous talent for drawing and inking skin. He’s caring and thoughtful, and we had so much in common from our love of motorcycles to old-school horror movies. It didn’t take long before I fell in love, despite his warning that he wasn’t sure he could let himself feel the same.

He had his reasons, and they were good ones. I’ll leave it at that.

So, what’s the reason for my rant, you might ask?

I owe him a heartfelt apology, and I’m hoping this post reaches him. Our complicated relationship has unfortunately come to an end. I unintentionally hurt him, and I have to try to make amends.

Mr. James, if you’re reading this, I am truly sorry. You bared your heart and soul to me, told me things about you that not a lot of people are privy to, and I didn’t tell you that I already knew because I didn’t know how. I hope you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me.

All my love,

XO

Harlow

***

Harlow

Almost a week had gone by since Toby stormed out of her life and she had shut everyone out again. She just needed time to put herself back together before facing the world. Calista called repeatedly, as well as Mel and Dee. Heck, Carson and Rebel even tried to check in. She just needed time. She’d made herself whole once before. She could do it again…eventually.

Her heartbreak turned into anger after a few days, then the anger turned into exhaustion. Damn Toby for being so stubborn when she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Men! Pftt…

God, they’re a complicated species.

Harlow felt so pathetic, she’d even checked out old Blank Canvas reruns, Toby’s former reality TV show, just to see him again. Torturing herself whenever Carley and Toby were in an episode together. They looked great as a couple too, but she had enough.

The walls of her apartment felt like they were closing in on her, and she had to escape. During her outing, she found herself in front of her daughter’s marked grave. The fresh air was crisp, the sky an overcast of grey just like her mood, and it was chilly out. “Hey, baby,” she said. Harlow bent down to clear some of the colorful leaves and debris from Lily’s tombstone. “I miss you so much, I ache with it. I don’t think the feeling will ever go away, but I was so lucky to be your mommy while I could. I don’t want you to ever forget that I love you. I know somehow that you’re here with me, even though I can’t see you. You’re in my heart, Lily Jane.” Harlow’s knees gave out, and she sat on the cold grass. “It’s been a few months since I’ve visited, and I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner. I recently met a group of great people who became friends, thanks to your Aunty Calista. They helped get me out of my shell and out of the house more often. They’re a great bunch. I’m sure you would have adored them. Then Mommy had to go and fall in love. His name is Toby. I wasn’t expecting it, baby, but it happened quickly and with a bang. I think you would have probably fallen just as hard, and I bet he’d make a great daddy someday.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and sighed with regret. “Unfortunately, it didn’t work out, and he’s mad at me. He has his own issues, and who knows, maybe I’m just destined to be alone. I’ll have to learn to live with that, accept it, but I’ll be okay. Life goes on. One day at a time.” Her shoulders shook as she silently cried. “I hurt, baby girl, and I’m tired.” She pressed her fingers against her lips as she hiccupped and lowered her face into her hands. “What I wouldn’t give to have you back here with me. I got a tattoo in your memory. It’s beautiful. In my heart and in my mind, I’ll always cherish the time we had. One day, we’ll meet again, and I can look upon your beautiful smile, see that adorable dimple in your chubby little cheek, and hold you in my arms.” Harlow collapsed forward on top of her daughter’s grave, oblivious to anything or anyone around her. She’d started the day sad about Toby and ended it with her daughter, vowing to visit again one day soon.

***

Calista

Harlow had been avoiding her, and she’d had enough of the silent treatment. She was worried, they all were, ever since Toby’s stunt the other day. Out of respect, they’d all given her a few days like she wanted. Callie had talked to Mel and Dee earlier, and the plan was for her to spend some one on one time with her bestie, so they could slowly get her to the land of the living again. They were having a girl’s night, whether Harlow wanted one or not. She wasn’t answering her phone or the door, so Calista got out her key—the one Harlow gave to her in case of emergency. She just happened to think today was emergency enough. Operation Harlow Heartbreak to Happiness was a go, step one in progress. The door banged against the hallway wall as she barged into the quiet apartment. “Harlow, it’s rise and shine time.”

Calista walked by the empty kitchen and living room. She took a quick peek in the bathroom and saved the bedroom for last. “Time to get up.” She’d automatically assumed that she might be napping, but apparently, she wasn’t home. “Hm,” Callie blew some hair out of her eye and checked the time on her cell before she texted Mel.

Calista: She’s not home. I’m going to stick around for a bit until she gets here.

Melody: K, keep us posted. We’ll meet up same time as planned. I got the booze, Dee has the junk food covered. We’re golden.

An hour passed by in a blur, then two, and it was getting dark out. No matter how many times she tried to call Harlow, there was no answer, and she was beginning to worry. This was so unlike her.

Callie called Mel first, and she picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, have you heard from her? I’ve got nothing, and I’m starting to worry.”

“I wish,” Melody said. “Hang tight. I’ll call Dee and see if she’s heard anything. We were supposed to meet up in a few anyway and head over to Harlow’s for girl’s night. It’s probably a long shot, but you never know. If that doesn’t pan out, I’ll call in the guys, see if we can figure out a plan to find her.”

“Thanks, Mel. I’ll stay here, let you know if anything changes, and try to think of places she might be. Call me back soon as you can.”

***

Melody

“Dee, we have a situation. Calista can’t get a hold of Harlow. She’s not home and not answering her cell. It’s getting dark, and this is not our girl’s norm. Calista’s getting worried, which is getting me worked up too.”

“Whoa,” Dee said. “First off, take a deep breath. I’m leaving now. Meet you at her place with Calista. You want to call the guys for some help with this, or should I?”

“The more people looking, the better. I’ll call Carson. You try Rebel,” Mel replied. “Then I’ll get a hold of Toby. He’s an ass, and I’m still upset, but I know he cares, and he’ll want in on this.”

“Got it. See you shortly.”

“Right.” Mel hung up and raced to get her jacket. She was just locking up her door when she got a hold of Carson.

“Hello, you’ve reached Carson Tyler. Best brother, God’s gift to women, and number one tattooist. How can I help you?”

“Yeah, right.” Mel snorted. “Are you available?”

Carson chuckled. “Oh, how you wound me, baby sister.”

“You’re only older by three minutes. Now listen up, chucklehead, I’m going to need you and the rest of the guys to meet us at Harlow’s place. Dee’s calling Rebel now. I’ll have to call Toby when I’m done with you. Calista went over to her place this afternoon to talk her into a girl’s night, only she wasn’t home, and that was hours ago. We still can’t find her. It’s getting dark. It’s cold out, and there’s no answer on her phone.”

“Okay, hold on a minute. I’m with Rebel and Toby right now at his place, and it looks like he’s filling Toby in—”

“Mel, what the fuck? Is she okay? Tell me she’s good.” Toby sounded panicked. “I’m putting my shoes on right now.” The phone shuffled, and she could hear him talk to her brother. “Lock up and meet me there. I’m taking the bike. It’s faster.”

“I’m calling because I don’t know, Tob. Calm down and meet us in one piece. Calista’s thinking of places she might be, in the meantime, then we’ll go search if she isn’t home yet. Capiche?” Mel slammed her car door shut and started the engine. “See you in a few, yeah?”

“Fuck, Mel, I’m going out of my mind.” Toby cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said before he hung up. And, right then and there, Mel knew there was hope yet for the troubled couple. But first, they needed to find the missing piece.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dear Harlow:

How do you make it up to someone after you’ve made a stupid mistake?

I met this amazing woman, but as soon as she told me she loved me, I freaked out and ended our relationship. I let those words scare me off and took the coward’s way out. I wasn’t ready to face how much I loved her in return.

~Sincerely, Once Burned~

*

Dear Once Burned:

That makes me wonder what made you finally decide you were ready to admit you love her back?

Sounds to me like you need to communicate with a few people. The woman you love, for one. Talk to her, explain why you were scared, and it probably wouldn’t hurt to give her a grand gesture to prove you won’t pull that stunt again.

I know what it’s like to be in this situation. It hurts something fierce, but if she loves you like you claim she does, I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.

Now, the next person you should think about talking to is a trained professional. There are clearly underlying issues that made you freak out, to begin with, and you need to work through that. This way, you can have a healthy relationship going forward.

Feel free to email me and I’d be happy to give you a list of resources.

Best of luck,

Harlow

***

Toby

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Calista’s accusing tone was the first thing he was greeted with as he entered Harlow’s apartment, and it made him growl. He was already out of his mind with worry knowing Harlow was out there somewhere, and everyone else seemed to be panicking right along with him. Toby didn’t need this shit, too.

Mel walked in behind him seconds later and clapped him on the shoulder. “The more people looking, the better. Right, Calista?” She eyed his woman’s best friend and continued to speak. “And he’s here because he loves her. He was just too idiotic to figure it out sooner. Don’t you, Tob?”

He nodded. “I always knew. I just didn’t think I deserved her. Felt guilty, too.” He fisted his hands at his sides and faced the woman currently glaring at him. “I want to fix this rift I put between us. I’ve been working on it for days now, and I’m almost there. I will make this up to Harlow. I swear to every person here, I won’t stop till I make it right, and I vow that if I’m lucky enough to get her back, I will move heaven and earth to make her happy. Please tell me you figured out where she might be?”

“Cut him some slack, will you?” Rebel cleared his throat as they walked in. “He’s telling you the truth. He asked for our help to pull it off.” He pointed toward Carson and back to himself.

Calista eyed Toby the entire time Rebel spoke, as if she was trying to judge his sincerity. Carson moved to put his arm around her, and she seemed to finally relax. “Now can you put the man out of his misery and answer the question?” he asked.

Calista nodded as she looked at the faces around her. Diamond, Melody, Rebel, Carson, and Toby all impatiently waited for her to spill. “I called Twin City earlier, and she didn’t drop anything off at the magazine. Said they hadn’t seen her at all in a few days, but that’s normal. Harlow works her own hours. As long as she makes their deadlines, they don’t care much. There are only a few other places I can think of. The coffee shop down the street, Dark Java’s. She loves the place. She could be at Lakewood Cemetery, where her daughter is buried, or she could also be wandering Lyndale Park. They’re open till midnight, I think. She goes there to unwind and admire the butterflies, hummingbirds, and gardens. Says it’s peaceful.”

“Okay, I think we should split up. It’ll go much quicker,” Dee said. “Carson and Rebel can check out Dark Java’s. Carson’s been there before. Callie and Toby, you should team up and check out Lakewood. See if she went to visit her daughter. Mel, you and me will go to Lyndale together and then meet back up here. First couple of people to find Harlow texts everyone else to let ‘em know.”

“That’s a good idea and all, but someone should probably stay here in case she comes back,” Carson replied. “Dee, why don’t you stay behind? Mel can come with me to the coffee shop, Reb can go check out the park, and Calista and Toby will still go to the grave. Check it out.”

“Let’s roll.” Toby strode to the door and held it wide for everyone to get going. They had a plan now, and the sooner they went out looking, the better he’d feel. He wanted to quit wasting time.

In their haste to get out of the building, they almost knocked over the person they were set to look for. Carson barreled into Harlow, and she almost fell onto her butt. Thankfully, Rebel caught her before any damage was done. Toby stood there frozen to the spot to check her out, make sure she was okay indeed.

“What are you all doing here?” Harlow looked confused, worn out, and vulnerable. He fucking hated that. Before anyone could respond, his body moved into action without much thought. She was just feet away, and he couldn’t help himself. He had to feel her.

“Scared the shit out of me.” He pressed his body against hers, cradled the sides of her face as gently as he could, and took her mouth, hungrily and possessively. These last days without her had been torture. After he’d drunk himself stupid the day he confronted her and then his staff, he’d read Harlow’s letter to Mel and realized his mistake. This woman in his arms was amazing, his second chance, and for some reason, she wanted him too. Kissing her was as easy as breathing. They just clicked, and it became instinctual. Harlow didn’t see it coming, but she reciprocated and gave as good as he did. So there was that.

“Okay, Casanova, enough with the lip lock. I want some answers.” Calista crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently when Toby pulled back.

Harlow looked dazed now, and his heart swelled.

“Huh?” Harlow shook her head as if to clear cobwebs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I also don’t know why you’re all here or why Toby is kissing me again suddenly?” She turned to him, and he winced when she glared.

“You haven’t talked to any of us in days, so Calista came over because enough is enough already. We planned a girl’s night, but when you didn’t show and wouldn’t answer your phone, we called the guys to help us look for you. Don’t ever do that to us again.” Mel wagged a finger at her and abruptly turned to go back inside the building.

“Where were you, anyway?” Toby was curious.

“I-I needed some air, and I hadn’t left the apartment in days, so I went to see Lily. I’ve been meaning to, anyway.” She sighed. “Also, my phone died the other day when I was avoiding everyone, and I never bothered to recharge it. It’s in my room.”

They all climbed the stairs to a waiting Dee, leaning against the apartment’s doorframe. “I could hear your voices carry and thought I’d check it out. There’s our girl.” She winked as Harlow walked past.

“I appreciate your concern, but if you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired. Rain check on the girl jam for tonight, okay?” Harlow looked him right in the eye then, and he could see she was still hurting.

Fuck!

“You’re all free to go now. Toby…” She gulped and lowered her head, no longer making eye contact. “As you can see, I’ll be fine. I’m sorry that you were inconvenienced tonight. I’ll make sure no one bothers you again where I’m concerned.”

“Well, that’s too bad because I’m not having it.” Harlow let out a surprised gasp when he threw her over his shoulder and marched them both toward her bedroom for some privacy. “I have some things I need you to hear before you go kicking me out.”

Harlow must have been too shocked to protest because she hadn’t put up any resistance to follow along. Toby turned to the rest of their entourage and addressed them. “We’ll need a few minutes of privacy, so make yourselves comfortable. Shouldn’t be too long.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Harlow

She watched as her friends all gave them a thumbs up and headed to her living room. Toby entered her room, kicked the door shut, and gently sat her on the bed. He stood in front of her. “Listen, Toby. I’m so emotionally drained right now, I don’t have it in me to fight with you. At least not tonight. What do you want?”

She crossed her arms and turned her head to look away, focusing instead on one of Lily’s photos on her nightstand. Her heart felt as if it had an open wound, and looking at Toby made it ache.

“Christ,” Toby cursed. “I’m such an idiot.”

Harlow gave him a curt nod. Although she could understand that he was probably trying to protect himself the other day, it was a misguided attempt. He was a fool for the way he treated her. Fool or not, she loved him. Didn’t mean she was going to make this easy on him.

“I deserve that.” He sighed, and the bed dipped when he sat beside her. She tensed when he reached for her hand, and she felt so vulnerable. He’d nearly crushed her spirit when he walked out, and now this. She was so confused, hurt, and angry. Was he toying with her? Since visiting with her daughter, her emotions were all over the place.

“Could you look at me, please?” he asked. He cupped the side of her face and gently moved her head so she’d look at him. “That a girl. Much better now.”

Harlow closed her eyes. She needed a minute to gather her thoughts, then she opened them again. “When did you get the new tattoo?” Toby lowered his hand and looked at his wrist. She’d noticed the sunflower now inked there and was curious.

“Look familiar?” Toby gave her a sad smile and touched the flower now etched onto his skin.

“Should it?” she asked, examining it more closely.

“Yeah, because it’s yours.” Toby cleared his throat. “I kept your drawing the night I taught you to draw the flower. You seemed so proud of it that it became special to me. Got it framed and put it on my mantle.” He shrugged. “Would you believe me if I told you I knew I made a mistake almost the minute I walked out your door? I’m a jackass, Harlow, but I was just so angry after I found that letter. Trust doesn’t come easily for me, and I’m messed up. I fucked up, period, especially with you. Mel fessed to writing it and going to you. I know now that it was kept personal. Should have took your word for it the first time, but I was scared. You terrified me because you made me feel things I had only felt for one other woman. It made me wonder if I was betraying her for being with you. I became happy again, and I didn’t feel like I deserved it. After I read your response to Mel, I got drunk, cried, and passed out. The next day, I gave myself your sunflower as a reminder of you always. Like it or not, you’re a part of me, Harlow, and I don’t want to let you go.”

Toby choked up on the last words, and she gulped as she tried to stop her own tears from flowing. She’d cried enough in the last week to last her a lifetime. “What’s the plan now? You hurt me, Toby. I told you I love you and you crushed me. Incinerated my heart and walked out. How do I know that won’t happen again? Especially when you can’t even say it back. I can’t compete with a ghost.”

“You don’t have to.” Toby got onto his knees and crawled in front of her. He grasped her two hands in his as if he was afraid she’d run away and pleaded, “I do love you, Harlow, but I don’t expect you to believe me right now. I plan to prove it to you, and I’m not giving up, so I’m begging you not to give up on me just yet. I get that I have issues, and I’ve set up an appointment to deal with them. I meet with Dr. Hartley the day after tomorrow for the first time. My physician recommended him. Told me he was a good shrink to talk to. I would love for you to come with me to a session, at some point, if you want to.”

“Oh, Toby.” Harlow blew out a big breath she’d been holding and smiled through watery eyes. “I’m happy for you. Dr. Hartley has established a great reputation. I’m proud of you for taking that step. It hurts me to say this because of my deep feelings for you, but I need some time to figure things out. I need to know that you’re with me for me, one hundred percent.” She cried, and her shoulders shook as she ripped her hands away from his and brought them up to hide her face. Her heart beat faster when she felt his arms embrace her, and she savored that moment while she could. “I just need time.”

“I can give you that,” he said. Harlow looked up when she heard Toby’s sniffle. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve to dry them. “But I’ve given you enough words tonight. Now it’s time for actions. As God is my witness, by the time I’m done wooing you back to me, you will have no doubt that you’re it. My second chance, and my forever.”

Toby leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, lingering there before he placed one last peck on top of her head. He opened the door and looked back. “Take all of the time you need, but I’ll be in touch, Harlow. I love you.” The last part was on a whisper as he shut the door, and she found herself all alone again, listening to murmurs in the other room.

She flopped back on the bed and curled into a ball. Her apartment became silent, and she figured everyone was gone.

Calista knocked softly before announcing herself. She climbed onto the bed and spooned herself around Harlow from behind. Harlow appreciated the support. It’d been a long day, but tomorrow was a new one and a new start. Her fingers were crossed that Toby meant what he’d said, but only time would tell.

Chapter Thirty

Dear Harlow:

My boyfriend’s ex just moved back to Minneapolis after working abroad for a couple years. In fact, the reason they broke up was because they couldn’t make the long-distance thing work for very long.

Every time we go out, she seems to be there, as they have many mutual friends. She gets too friendly, and I hate it. We’ve been together about eight months, and I know I should feel secure in our relationship. I love him, but how do I compete with his ex when I know he still has feelings for her? You can see it whenever she’s around. I’ve tried talking to him about it, but I get nowhere. Help me Harlow. I’m going crazy here.

Sincerely,

~Troubled Girlfriend~

*

Dear Troubled Girlfriend:

The answer to your question is you don’t. There should be no contest. Although I can empathize with feeling like you need to compete. The ex is his past, and you’re his present. Sounds to me like you need to let your boyfriend know your concerns again until he listens. Both about his feelings for the ex-girlfriend and about the disrespect you’re given when she gets too friendly. If he has any respect for you and your relationship, he should put a stop to it. I’m sure if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t be happy with this situation, either. I wish you the best of luck, and if all else fails, you may need to dump him.

My heart goes out to you,

Harlow

***

Harlow

There was nothing like the classics. Richard Gere was currently on TV, picking up a very sexy-looking Julia Roberts in a fancy sports car. Say hello to the hooker meeting the gorgeous rich guy in this old school forbidden love story called Pretty Woman. Harlow sighed; if only it was as simple as in the movies. At least then, you were guaranteed a happily ever after, and she wanted one of those for herself.

She picked up a handful of chocolate M&M’s and passed the popcorn bowl to Mel. A few days had passed since Toby had vowed to woo her, and she hadn’t heard from him since. It was depressing, yet she did ask for time. Words were one thing, actions were quite another, and she had to guard her heart better. Had to know for certain that Toby was ready to move on. Thankfully, she was currently in good company to distract herself from this funk she’d been struggling with.

Girl’s night, yeah!

“Damn, that Richard Gere is hot, for an older dude.” Dee wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as she poured them each a glass of margaritas from a big pitcher. After she finished passing them out, she set the jug on the coffee table and sat down with flourish. “This night has been long overdue. It’s nice to unwind with my peeps.”

“Agreed,” Harlow said. She dropped a bunch of the little round, candied chocolates in her mouth and chewed. “Thanks for being here, you guys. I really don’t know what I’d do without you. I know I’ve been a recluse in the last week, and I appreciate your patience with me.”

“Well, we love you.” Calista held her glass up. “Let’s toast to the good things in our lives. Here’s to great friends, booze, a bunch of junk food, and the fantasy men we admire in these chick flicks. May we one day find our own true loves, and may they cherish us like the goddesses we know we are.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Although I might add a salute to the good men out there who learn from their mistakes. Everyone deserves a second chance.” Mel clinked her glass against Harlow’s as Dee and Calista did the same.

Dee snorted before she took a sip. “Very subtle, Mel.”

“I’m sorry, okay.” Melody looked at Harlow with wide eyes. “I know he’s a dipshit once in a while, but I’m rooting for the two of you. You’re good for each other, and if it’s any consolation, he’s been just as miserable without you.”

Harlow took another sip from her glass and sighed. “I’m rooting for us as well. I love him, but this experience made me realize I need to tread carefully. I need to know one hundred percent that he’s moved on before we can be together again. I’m sure Carley was a very lovely person. I’ve only heard great things about her, but I can’t continue to compete with her memory. I deserve better than that.”

“Nobody can fault you for feeling that way,” Dee said. “Carley was good people, and it’s tragic what happened to her. I also know she’d want Toby to be happy, and you’re it. It’s like comparing apples and oranges. They’re both different but equally tasty.”

“It’s good to know I’m tasty.” Harlow shrugged, and they all had a giggle. She put down her drink when her phone started to vibrate. It was in her pocket, and she took it out. “Speak of the Devil. Toby just texted me.” Her heart beat quicker, and she got that excited feeling in the pit of her belly when she opened it. It was butterflies.

“What does it say?” Calista asked. Each woman seemed to sit up straighter as if eagerly waiting for her to reply.

She clicked on the text and read it out loud. “It says: I meant every word I said the other night. My step one to win you back was the sunflower tattoo. It was made special knowing that you were the one to draw it for me. Proof that you can draw with the right teacher beside you, and now that memory will live on always. My step two was the kiss I gave you the moment we locked eyes again after I’d been such an idiot. I was just so relieved you were okay. I poured all my feelings into that lip lock and kissing you was as easy as breathing. I long to do that again sometime soon. Now, this is my step three. Please click on the link. I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as it takes me, to make you believe. All my love, Toby.”

“Wow!” Calista clutched her chest, while Mel and Dee gave each other a high five. “What’s the link for?”

“Yeah, click on it already. We want to see it too.” Melody looked excited for her, and Harlow chuckled.

“Whatever it is, it’s on YouTube.” The girls leaned over her shoulder to peek, while Harlow rubbed her hands together and clicked away with bated breath. Ash Harris’s face filled the screen, and she squealed. She was a huge fan of Love the Sinner, and to have the lead singer addressing you on the internet was a dream come true. What was Toby up to, and why was it his cousin’s face she was looking at and not his?

Calista shushed her.

Mel rolled her eyes. “Ash gets this reaction all of the time. It’s all good, girlfriend.”

But Harlow ignored them, entranced inside her own little world that included this intriguing video Toby wanted to share with her. She turned up the volume.

“Hello, Harlow Ross. I hear you’re a huge fan, and I can’t tell you how humbled I am to know it. I could tell from the moment Toby mentioned you, you were somebody worth knowing. It takes a special woman to knock my cousin to his knees, and I know that must not have been an easy task. You both seem to have a lot in common, from what I hear, and a unique understanding of each other. He tells me you make him want to be a better man. And, let me tell you, Toby is one of the good ones. It’s why I was excited to help him pull this off. I hope you’re listening closely before I pass you back to him because Toby loves you from the bottom of his heart. Take it from me.” Ash finished with a wink. “I’m currently still on tour, but as soon as we can manage it, the band and I would love to meet you. Until then, I present to you, Toby James, everyone.”

The camera moved away from Ash and onto Toby’s lone figure. He was sitting on a stool with a guitar in hand, and Harlow felt like she melted on the spot at the sight of him.

“Hey, Harlow. I know you’re a huge fan of the band, and I thought it might mean something special to hear Ash speak as if he knows you already. I also figured it might help this post reach more people if Love the Sinner’s prodigy was on it. His fan base has a far better outreach than mine does. Local tattooist with an old show.” Toby pointed at himself. “And the rock star. I love you, baby, so much, and I’d like the whole world to know it. Hence the video, my step number three, but there’s more…” Toby’s face lit up with hope as he gave her his signature smirk, and her heart soared with happiness. “Ash and I also co-wrote this song for you that I’m about to sing for the very first time. You ready to hear it?” The moment Toby started playing the guitar, she wasn’t the only one in tears. The whole apartment was. Calista, Mel, and Dee joined her. While she suspected theirs were tears of envy, hers were of complete joy. She hadn’t remembered ever being so jubilant before. It was incredible, and she absorbed every word he sang. If this wasn’t proof enough that he loved her, then nothing would be.

Drifted alone as an empty shell

My scars burned while I was in hell

Took women to bed

I was distracted with dread

A shallow escape to quell the pain

Loves were lost and a new one was gained

I was absent and alone but no more

You showed me I deserve to feel more

I’m ready to say goodbye to the past

You’re going to be my second chance

My lady to love forever and more

So here I am reaching out to you

You’re holding my heart

It’s yours to store

You showed me I deserve to feel more

Continuing to run would be insane

I want to be with you to dance in the rain

To hold your hand, to cherish, and kiss you

When you’re not around I ache, and I miss you

It breaks me to see you cry

I’d rather see us both fly

When I look in your eyes

And my arms go around you

I know I’m in bliss

And thank God that I’ve found you

So, baby hear my plea

You’re it for me

You give me the will and strength to continue

I’ve found my forever

to infinity and a day

My love will never go away

Like a sunflower on a beautiful day

Together we shine bright

please don’t push me away

With visions of our future where we’re holding hands

I’ll show you I’m strong enough to be your man

I’m ready to say goodbye to the past

You’re going to be my second chance

My lady to love forever and more

I’ll do what it takes to show you I’m yours

Baby hear me plea

You’re it for me

When you’re by my side

There isn’t a need to hide

I’m ready to be the man you need

Girl, you showed me I deserve to feel more

The past is lost, and the future is what I’m looking for

You showed me I deserve to feel more

That I deserve to feel more

I love you

“Oh my God!” Calista fanned her face. “That was amazing.”

“Harlow,” Mel gasped. “I’ve never seen Toby like that before. It’s like the words bled right out of him. They were so heartfelt and personal.”

“That right there is your proof.” Dee enthusiastically pointed at Harlow’s phone. “He’s finally ready to move on.”

“I have to see him.” Harlow jumped up from the couch and cradled the phone to her chest. “I’ve got to go.” She raced around the apartment to grab her jacket, keys, and shoes. She threw open the door and paused. “Stay as long as you like. Callie has her key to lock up, and I’ll keep you posted. If all goes well, I won’t be texting until sometime tomorrow.” She winked as her entourage whistled and clapped with excitement.

“Go get him, girl.”

Harlow rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and nearly tripped over her own two feet in her haste to get to the car. She started the ignition and prayed that he was home.

Chapter Thirty-One

Toby

Toby began pacing his apartment the minute he’d sent the text, and a million and one questions bombarded his thoughts.

Was she watching it?

Did she like it?

Did she finally believe him?

Would she take him back?

And if she didn’t, what could he possibly do to top that?

He’d shout out his love from the rooftops if that’s what Harlow needed from him. Contacting Ash to ask for some help seemed to be a good idea at the time. This video would hopefully tell the world. It hadn’t been online for very long, and the viewings already surpassed six figures. It was crazy. He shook his head and picked up his sketch pad. Ten minutes later, and he was still looking at the blank page. He gave up, tossed the pad on the coffee table, and sat forward with a sigh. The suspense was killing him.

Come on, baby. Call me. Tell me you watched it and loved it.

His phone made a noise, signalling a notification, and he lunged for it on the cushion beside him.

Mel: If you’re not home, you might want to get there pronto. Your girl saw the video, and she’s on her way. Good job, Tob. Harlow couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I’m so glad you’ve finally found your happy. Proud of you too.

After reading it, Toby smirked and gave himself a mental high five. He looked around the apartment and quickly straightened up. He gathered his dinner dishes and dropped them in the sink. He quickly wiped the counters and threw the rag back on the counter when he finished. It’d have to do. Toby looked around, satisfied now that the place looked decent enough. But what about him? He turned to sniff his pits and sighed with relief. He smelled decent but now felt anxious. This was it.

Within a couple of minutes, there was an insistent pounding on the door, and he knew it was her. His heart raced, and he eagerly opened it. No words were exchanged. The moment they locked eyes, she pounced, and it caught him off guard. She jumped up, threw her arms around his shoulders, and wrapped her legs around his hips. Toby fell backward, taking the brunt of the fall, while she peppered kisses all over his face. It shocked him.

“I’m so sorry. Please tell me you’re not hurt.” Harlow scrambled to get up and held out her hand to help him do the same. The moment he stood, his arms went around her again. She was magnetic, and he couldn’t stop touching her if he tried. Didn’t want to.

Harlow’s gaze ran from his feet to the top of his head, checking him out. Her hands rested against his heart, and he couldn’t help but smile. She was right where he wanted her to be. “I’m fine, Harlow, promise. In fact, I’m now more than fine.” He bent down to rest his forehead against hers and whispered, “It’s so good to see you again.”

Her whole face lit up at his words, and he cherished the moment. “It’s good to see you too. Toby, I feel like it’s my turn to apologize. When you walked out on me, I was shattered.”

“Har—”

Harlow held up her hand and took a step back, leaving Toby no choice but to drop both of his arms to his sides. He fisted his hands to keep from reaching out. “Please let me finish,” she said. “You have to understand, when I first met you, I could feel this pull. I was attracted to you, of course, but there was more to it. You’re so talented and hard-working; you’re successful and likeable, the whole package, but you were also damaged and hurting. It’s a trait I can understand well because I am too, in my own way. You got me, though, and still do. It’s like we’re two imperfect puzzle pieces but put us together and we fit. I just couldn’t help but love you, but in the back of my mind, there was always this insecurity. You never promised me anything permanent, but I wanted it badly.” She shrugged. “When you found the letter and walked out, I thought I’d never be able to compete with Carley. She was the love of your life, a-and I’m just me. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I decided to protect my heart. The other night when you tried to tell me how you felt…God, Toby, I’m so sorry.” She rushed forward and began to kiss him all over his face again. It was adorable. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You, so much.” Kiss. “And I know you love me. That video was the sweetest, sincerest, most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me.” Kiss. Kiss.

Toby gulped and gave her a nod. He needed a minute to compose himself. He hugged her tightly and smiled. “Finally. I honestly didn’t know how I was going to top the song. When we met, I think my problem was that I could see our dark, and I let mine consume me. Been living with mine for too long. The difference was yours had holes all over it, letting the light shine through, and I was drawn to you. I know you’re still grieving your daughter, but you don’t let it eat at you like I did when I lost Carley. Despite it, you help people every day. I’d wish for anything to get you your daughter back and keep that hurt away, and I’m so sorry I don’t have that ability. One thing I can give you is me, though. I swear to you from this day forward, if you give me that chance, I’ll make it my mission to love, protect, and cherish you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“Toby…” Harlow looked up with tears in her eyes.

“It’s my turn to finish.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “When I lost Carley, it took a part of me. Not going to lie to you. I wanted an eternity, and it was ripped away the first time. So when you came along, and I saw Mel’s letter, I used that shit as an excuse to push you away. Why? Because from the moment I saw you in my lobby at Misfit, I could see you were special. You made me feel things I didn’t want to. Suddenly, my dark began to crack, and I had light in my life again. I wasn’t drowning in grief because I had you with me. It freaked me out some. I fucked up, Harlow, and I’m not perfect, so I’m going to probably screw up again at some point. However, I do know without a doubt that if you give me that second chance, I’ll make sure you know there isn’t anything or anybody to compete with from this day forward. I love you that much.”

“I believe you.” Harlow nodded her head and grinned. “Now that we’ve both said our piece, can we please get to the love making?”

“Missed you,” he said. Toby kissed her to show her how much. Speaking his feelings wasn’t something he excelled at, except with Harlow. Showing her them like she requested, however, was in a more comfortable territory. He’d gladly oblige.

Let the sparks ignite.

The moment his mouth crashed down on hers, the kiss went eager and hard. She nipped his bottom lip, and he moaned, loving the slight sting before she soothed it with her tongue. Toby broke the kiss for a few seconds to yank her shirt off and threw it behind him. He did the same with his own. With a flick of his fingers, he had her bra unhooked, and Harlow finished the honors by working her arms free. The lacy undergarment fell to their feet. He pulled her closer and took her mouth again. The feel of her skin against his was phenomenal. Her nipples were hard, and he groaned as Harlow ran her finger nails down his back. He loved that signature move. She gasped as his lips trailed against her jaw. “I want you so badly, Toby.”

Those words were like music to his ears. He grunted and kissed his way down her throat, could feel her pulse beat as frantically as his was. “So beautiful,” he mumbled. Harlow moved her leg up to his waist and thrust against him where they stood. He gripped her bottom, and her other leg wrapped around him as well. Her hands played in his hair while her arms were wrapped around his neck, and he pressed his forehead against hers again. They were both panting, and it gave them a moment to catch their breath.

Toby walked with her until his legs hit the side of his bed. He gently lowered her down on the mattress before climbing on top. He tucked some hair behind her ears and lovingly caressed her face. “I have the world in the palm of my hands right now. My world is right here.” He quickly kissed her lips. “Love you, baby.”

“Oh, Toby,” Harlow whispered with emotion. “I lo-ove you too.” She hissed the last part and writhed against him. His left hand palmed one breast while his mouth worshiped the other. Once he paid equal attention to both, he kissed his way down her stomach and gripped the waistband of her pants to get rid of them, underwear and all. Toby stood to admire the view, wanting to commit this very moment to memory. Harlow was a vision fully clothed, but get her naked, and she blew his mind.

Mine.

“Say it again,” Toby said. He could see the love in her eyes when she looked at him, but he needed to hear the words before they went further.

“I love you, Mr. James.” Harlow partially sat up and eyed his straining erection with interest, and she licked her lips.

“And who do you belong with?” Harlow looked at him again when he asked the question, and she maintained eye contact as she answered with sincerity.

“I belong with you, Toby. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“Damn straight,” he said.

He grabbed her thighs to spread her wide and dove in to taste her. He felt like a starving man in need of sustenance, and she was his favorite flavored dessert. He loved this pussy. It was glistening and smooth, sticky sweet. He licked her slow at first to savor the moment. He tongued her opening, tasted around her slick folds, and lapped at her clit repeatedly. Her fingers went through his hair, and she moved her hips eagerly against his face. Her juices dripped from his chin while he licked, flicked, and fucked her with his tongue. Her taste became more potent the wetter she became, and he knew she was close the minute she yanked on his hair to move him precisely where she needed him.

“Please, Toby, I’m almost there.”

He smiled against her and obliged her request. His head moved side to side while he played with her clit, and then up and down. He took the bud into his mouth and sucked it.

“Oh God, so fucking good,” she cried out. He looked up, and her chest rapidly rose and fell. Her eyes were closed, and he’d become mesmerized as he worked her into bliss. This woman was amazing, and all his. It felt like his heart was expanding. He was so happy. Her eyes popped open, they locked with his, and she gripped his head tighter to her core. Her legs began to shake, and her moans were louder. “I’m coming, Toby. Fuck me, I’m c-oming!”

Harlow erupted like an active volcano, and it turned him on so much, he was ready to cream in his pants like a freaking newbie.

Toby stood while Harlow recovered, and he ripped his pants off, almost tripping in his haste to free his cock. He was aching so bad. A couple of weeks apart felt torturous. He may be pathetic, but he also didn’t care. He sighed with relief the minute he was free and grabbed a condom from his drawer.

“Here, allow me.” Harlow winked and reached for it. She tore open the wrapper with her teeth and quickly put it on him. “Now we’re talking.” She stretched out and turned around to get on all fours. She looked back and smiled while he admired the view of her bum in the air. “Love me, Toby. I feel empty without you.”

Toby grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. He stood behind her and palmed her ass before smacking it. He squeezed her cheek again, grabbed the base of his dick, and rubbed his tip between her folds. At her opening, he paused and slowly sunk in. They moaned in unison the moment he was balls deep and began to move. It felt amazing. Her cunt was wet, snug, and warm. So soft, and incredible. He gripped her hips and flexed his fingers, trying desperately not to blow too soon. He fucked her fast, then slowed down, fast and slow some more. He leaned forward to kiss her back, and it gave her goose bumps. He licked her skin. “You feel incredible Harlow.” He stopped, pulled out, and flipped her over. “But tonight, I want to look in your eyes.” Her boobs bounced when he entered her, and he could feel her fingernails dig into his shoulders leaving their mark. The familiar sounds of their moans and skin slapping skin filled the air, muting the TV at the other end of the loft. He was so close now and made sure to rub against her clit every time he pumped out and back in. He wanted to reach ecstasy together this time.

“Toby.” Harlow’s back arched, and he gasped the moment she let go. Her walls tightened and spasmed around his shaft. Ripple after ripple of pleasure consumed him, and his cock jerked with the force of his own orgasm. It left him boneless.

“Uh, Toby?” Harlow pushed at his shoulders and giggled. “I love having you on top of me. But you’re getting heavy.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Toby rolled over onto his side, taking her with him. They were face to face, laying in the middle of his bed and satisfied. She kissed his chest and rubbed the spot with her fingers.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve never been better,” he said. Toby took the hand she used to rub his chest and brought her fingers to his lips, pecking each one.

“Me too.” Harlow smiled. “What comes next?”

Toby shrugged. “We’re official. I say we enjoy tonight and tell the others tomorrow.” He nudged her chin with his forefinger and stared. “We still take it one day at a time, baby, but with more confidence in our future. I’m in this for the long haul. I want forever with you.”

“I’d like that. You have no idea how much.” Harlow squealed and hugged him tightly. Toby chuckled and pried her arms from around him. He held them above her head and leaned over to kiss her lips. Only this time, there was no hurry. She wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he. He was finally beginning to heal, to seek help, and most importantly he found love again. As the misery of his past lessened, it was replaced by a new hope, and he looked forward to their journey ahead, together.

Epilogue

Carson

“Here’s the happy couple now.” He clapped his hands and got up to give Toby a pat on the back. “It’s good to see you, man.”

Before Toby could respond, Carson took Harlow from his friend’s arms and gave her a big hug. “Damn, Harlow. Are we at Fanny’s or in a museum? Because the moment you walked in, it was like looking at a true work of art.”

“Oh, Carson, I hope you never change.” Harlow chuckled and pinched his cheek.

“What can I say?” Carson winked. “I’m the best.”

“Hey.” Toby grabbed Harlow by her belt loops and pulled her by his side. “Get your own woman. This one is spoken for.”

Carson laughed.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mel pushed her brother aside. “You could at least let them take a seat so the rest of us can congratulate them.”

Carson shrugged. Whatever.

It’d been a few days since their favorite couple reunited, and tonight they were out to celebrate. Toby sat between him and Rebel, and Mel dragged Harlow to the other side to sit across from them between the girls. No doubt to get the dirt or whatever girly shit women talked about. He took a sip of his beer and observed the crowd.

“I know I’ve probably said this before, but happy looks good on you,” Dee exclaimed. “It took you long enough to text.”

“We were busy.” Toby smiled when Harlow blushed. “Had to make up for lost time.”

Rebel snorted. “Lucky bastard.”

“Don’t I know it.” Toby chuckled, and Carson could feel the envy in the pit of his stomach. At thirty-one, he was young enough still and having fun, but the one-night stands were beginning to get old, and he couldn’t wait to find his own Harlow. Well, not her, obviously, but a woman who could bring him to his knees. A woman he could see himself spending more time with than a night or two, but he was beginning to think she didn’t exist.

Maybe that’s why he’d been spending a lot of nights at The Busy Beaver lately instead of hooking up. The moment that stripper Lacey stepped on the stage, a spark had ignited with just one look. There was a pull there every single time she performed, but for some reason, he couldn’t get her to give him a lap dance. She didn’t do them, apparently, and it frustrated the fuck out of him. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase that intrigued him. Who knew? But who found forever with a stripper anyway?

Mel kicked him under the table, and he glared.

Fuck, that hurt.

She mouthed, “Are you okay?”

Carson nodded. He looked around the table, and it looked like Rebel was putting the moves on Dee again, and Toby was leaning across the table talking with Harlow in hushed tones, paying no attention to the brother and sister duo.

“I’m fine, what’s up?” Carson leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Nothing, you just looked way too serious over there. Lost in thoughts.” Mel leaned forward and clasped her hands together. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

He nodded. “I do, but I’m good, so stop with the serious talk already. We’re here to celebrate. Who needs another drink?” He waved his empty in the air and stood, not bothering to listen to anyone’s reply. “I’ll get another round.”

Carson walked away, and he sighed as Mel caught up with him.

“Thought I’d help you carry them back,” she said, but he knew better. There really was something to this twin intuition thing, and she wasn’t backing down.

“I told you I’m fine, Mel, and I am. I’m just adjusting. I’m glad for Toby. Harlow’s good for him, and he deserves his happy ending. I guess I just wish I could find mine.” He grimaced and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t you dare tell anybody I said that. You do, and I’ll tell them about that time you flashed Dee’s uncle when he visited last spring.”

Mel narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare.” And he laughed as she did some pointing of her own right in the middle of his chest. “I was drunk. It didn’t go any further than that, and Dee would kill me if she found out.”

“My lips are sealed as long as yours are.” Carson shrugged then turned to flag down Fanny’s old man. “Hey, Harold. Six of the usual.”

When he turned around, Mel was smiling with a wicked gleam in her eyes. She was up to something, but what? He looked at her curiously but didn’t have to wait for much longer to hear her spill the beans.

“You’ll never guess who I talked to today.”

Like he cared. “Who did you talk to today?” He casually leaned against the bar and played along.

“Tate. She’s back, Carson, and she’s here to stay.”

Tate?

That one word alone had his palms sweating. “You don’t say.”

Mel nodded enthusiastically and rubbed her hands together.

Tate Owens was Mel’s best friend since childhood. She moved away shortly after high school to go to some fancy place in New York, a dance school, and he hadn’t seen her since. She was Mel’s exact opposite. Mel was loud, Tate was quiet. Mel liked attention, Tate preferred to stay invisible. She was shy, sweet, and tried hard to hide her beauty back then, but Carson saw. Oh yeah, he saw what she tried to hide, and Mel knew it too. Only he hadn’t acted on his desires when they were younger. Tate was different from the girls he was used to. She deserved the world, and he wasn’t done playing the field, therefore he didn’t go there. As tempting as it could have been. “Good for her.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’ll be great to see her again.”

“I’ll bet.” Mel doubled over as she laughed and wiped her eyes when she was upright again. “You keep on pretending that doesn’t mean something to you. You know, she had the biggest crush on you, as well, right?”

Carson rolled his eyes again, not willing to take the bait. “That was high school, Mel. Grow the fuck up.”

Mel ignored him. “She plans to open her own choreography studio and teach dance. Has some other job in the meantime…”

Carson turned to grab the beers Harold had put in front of him and ignored his sister right back while they returned to their table.

“Took you long enough.” Toby stood to help pass them out, and Carson held out his bottle to make a toast. “To Toby and Harlow.”

The table chorused him, and he chugged half the bottle in one go.

Tate Owens. Damn.

He had a feeling life was about to become more interesting. He could feel Mel’s stare, and when he looked over, she smirked.

Fucking sister. A pain in my ass.

He flipped her the finger and slammed the bottle down on the table. She was up to something, and he had a feeling it had to do with the woman he now couldn’t stop thinking about.

Fanny walked up to the table with a bunch of food, and his stomach growled. There were wings, nachos, fries, and a plate of burgers by the time she was done. “I just love feeding you kids.” Fanny smiled. “Tonight, it’s on the house.”

Carson clutched his chest to lay it on thick before Fanny walked away. Flirting just came naturally to him, and he couldn’t help himself. “Mamma Deuce, would you touch my arm before you go?”

The old lady knew him well and chuckled. She rested her hand on his bicep. “Now what?”

He winked. “Now I get to tell all of my friends I was touched by an angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” She swatted him playfully and laughed as she left them.

Nothing would be on the house tonight because he’d make sure to tip her enough to cover it all, but first, it was time to fill his belly and continue to mingle.

Tonight was about his friends. Tomorrow, he’d worry about everything else.

About the Author

Jennifer Labelle resides in Canada with her husband and three beautiful children. After her third child she became a stay at home mom. In her busy household Jennifer likes to spend her down time engrossed in the stories that she creates. She is an active reader of romance, mystery and anything paranormal. With an education in Addictions work she’s decided to take a less stressful approach in life and hopes that you enjoy, as she shares some of her imagination and artistic inspiration with all of you.

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Jennifer-Labelle/168414043184292

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/1JenniferLabell

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4649930.Jennifer_Labelle

Website:

http://www.jenniferlabelle.com/

Google Plus:

https://plus.google.com/u/0/110192794885898998367/posts

Bookbub:

https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jennifer-labelle

Also, please consider leaving a review. It’s greatly appreciated and helps authors spread the word about their work.

Thank you!

Piece of Me

By Nicky Shanks

Chapter One

Cinnamon and Whiskey

The air is thick with cigar smoke as it hovers over the backyard full of pretentious people…well, that and fake, over-the-top laughter. I can’t believe I let myself get talked into coming here—this isn’t my scene by a million miles. Now, my sister, Caitlyn…this is her scene. My gaze darts around the crowd as I try to make a solid escape plan, but all I can see is Ralph Lauren pleated pants and too-short cocktail dresses. The scents of several expensive perfumes mix together, and the potent cloud engulfs every space I run to.

“Hey there, sexy—where’ve you been hiding?” Caitlyn’s friend, Sam, pokes my side and raises his eyebrows in amusement at me. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your way around this place. You smell incredibly delicious, by the way.” His low growl near my ear makes my stomach clench just enough to feel like I’m going to vomit. I can’t stomach him; he’s a six-foot tall walking hard-on, and he loves to flirt with anything that walks on two legs with boobs…especially me.

“Where’s Cait?” he asks. The lumpy shape of his nearly shaved head makes me think of pinholes. They open and close to let out all the hot air when he speaks. His cold, gray eyes are like small daggers that try and pierce every female he comes across. He flashes his creepy, crooked smile, which makes me shiver just enough to remember why I can’t stand him.

I shrug, and chills run down my spine. I know I’m being watched by someone other than Sam—I feel it. The backyard is packed with people, so of course someone else is looking at me, but this is different. Someone is wrapping me in a more intense cocoon of paranoia than I normally have.

The stray ends of my long, chestnut brown hair fall from the pins holding the thick mess up as I shake my head at Sam. “I’m not her keeper; you should go and find her yourself.” I inch away from him, but he yanks me by my waist. He holds me flush to his side, his fingers rubbing circles on my hips. I feel someone’s frustration suffocate me; I push Sam away for the second time, and his eyes turn dark.

Sam nods at someone across the backyard and sucks in air through his front teeth. When he looks back at me, he assesses my body before locking his creepy gray eyes with mine. “You know, underneath all of your quirks and bitchy attitude is someone I can see myself sleeping with.”

Oh, gross.

I push him off before I gag out loud. “Go away.”

He laughs off my rejection and pushes me back with gusto, almost knocking me into the bushes. I can’t see Caitlyn anywhere, so I grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray—then another—and dart through the sea of people. They’re blocking the way back into the house, and all of my quick exits that I planned out before are now gone.

It isn’t enough for Caitlyn that we’re on completely opposite ends of the popularity spectrum—which doesn’t bother me, but she’ll never let me forget it. It’s like she always has to one-up me, no matter what the circumstances. I don’t remember most of my childhood with her, and the parts I do remember are confusing and pointless.

I started expressing concerns about my memories to my parents last year. Even though I don’t remember it, I’m told I was in a car accident that gifted me with retrograde amnesia a few months before I started noticing signs that things didn’t feel right. Whenever I try to recall a memory that someone in my family describes to me, there’s nothing there. Everything before moving to Silver Lake is just…empty.

According to my parents, the headaches started after I left the hospital; they’d bring me to my knees at first. After a few months—and after we moved to northern California from Washington State—they died down. I still have them sometimes, but physical therapy wasn’t really helping, so I never went back.

The dreams, meanwhile, started after we moved to Silver Lake—dreams so vivid that they’d haunt me for days. That’s why I started asking questions about my missing memories. That…and the lack of pictures on our walls. No family portraits, no birthdays or Christmas dinners…nothing.

Maybe I don’t remember anything about my life before a year ago, but my family does. Why wouldn’t they want any reminders of it? My mom told me it’s so I don’t feel bad about the holes in my memory, and I guess I get that, but…the whole situation gives me a funny feeling, like I’m missing something else, too.

I know it doesn’t make my family feel very loved to know I don’t remember them or all the wonderful things they surely have done for me. I do feel bad about that. So now, instead of reminding everyone that I feel like a stranger in my own body, I say nothing and let the tension slowly build inside like a ticking time bomb.

“Livvie!” Caitlyn calls for me in her squeaky voice. “Livvie, over here!”

I don’t want to look.

I don’t want to look.

I don’t want to—

“Hey, didn’t you hear me?” Her sharp, fake fingernails dig into my skin. I swear I can feel the blood trickling down my arm. “Where are you going in such a rush?”

I hand her the two empty champagne glasses and smile the fake smile that she taught me. “Home.” I shake my head. “I don’t belong here.”

Caitlyn frowns and tries to toss her bleached hair over her shoulder in annoyance. It amuses me when she does this, because her hair is shoulder-length and there’s nothing to toss. “These things are important, and I attend to represent our family. We just moved here—we need friends.” Her lips smack together, and the stickiness of her lip gloss makes a wet, sloppy sound. I laugh to myself, thinking it looks like glue. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“We moved here months ago.” My entire body is numb as she walks away from me and re-joins her group of friends, picking up where she left off and laughing along with them. I would never, ever tell her this, but I desperately want that to be me. I don’t have a lot of friends—no one that ever sticks around long enough to be called a friend, really—and while she’s out there putting her good name to use, I’m stuck in between two brick walls, going nowhere fast.

She is right about one thing: I don’t understand what she means about “family.” How can I, when I hardly feel right about calling her my sister?

Caitlyn looks back at me and squints her eyes in anger, silently demanding me to leave.

Fine.

“I’m going,” I mouth and pick up another glass of champagne, letting the bubbly liquid fill my throat before putting the empty flute back on the waiter’s tray. The room starts to spin a little beneath my feet, but not enough for me to ask Caitlyn for a ride home so I have to listen to her complain the entire way. I manage to make it outside of the mansion before collapsing onto the damp, manicured grass with my head in my hands. I have no idea where I left my purse with my phone and keys, but it doesn’t matter. I can walk home from here—all seven miles in these heels, if I have to.

“I would ask if you’re okay, but that seems like a silly question,” a deep voice rumbles above me. It amplifies inside my head, bouncing around the walls and making me dizzier than the champagne. “So I’ll ask a different question: may I help you up?” The smoothness of his voice excites me and lights a fire inside of my stomach. I trust this person with everything inside of me, and I haven’t even bothered to look up. Now I know I’m drunk; my thoughts make no sense.

A hand reaches down into my field of vision, but I shake my head and swat it away. “No thanks.”

The long breath he lets out amuses me. I’ve managed to somehow annoy him without even looking up. The uneasy feeling he’s having is bleeding into the air; he seems restless, like he can’t stand still or something. Is this his house? Maybe he’s pissed because I’m sprawled out, drunk, on his lawn?

“Suit yourself, but I think that the gentlemen looking up your skirt could use a break, don’t you?” The world spins as I try to peek up through my messy hair. A group of older men stare at me from a few feet away as I feel the breeze between my legs; I snap them together. I groan and try to lift myself up, the champagne rushing to my head again. “Whoa, there, Bug,” the man says, leaping toward me and holding out his arms. I fall and hit something hard, but I’m not on the ground.

I smile into his chest over his dress shirt, completely unaware of how much makeup I’m smearing on him. “Yum, you smell like cinnamon and whiskey.” My mind races as my weight sags against his body. There’s something igniting about his aroma—it’s making my head spin even faster as he holds me.

The man laughs a deep, smoky laugh and brushes my hair from my face so he can get a better look at what he’s getting himself into. “Let me take you home. You’re in no condition to drive anywhere.” I’m so dizzy that I can’t think straight, but I know that Caitlyn will kill me if word gets around that her sister left the upper-class social mingle with some strange man. Ever since we moved to Silver Lake, it’s like she’s become an entirely different person…well, as far as I can remember.

“My sister,” I mumble. “She’s here.”

More people stop to look at us, wondering what my problem is and sticking their noses up at me once they realize I’m just a little too drunk—something that regularly happens at these events when someone with a problem attends, I’m sure.

But I don’t have just one problem.

I have dozens of them.

“Olivia!” Caitlyn scolds me as she rushes to us; her judging eyes cut right through me. I’m thankful for the warmth that my savior is giving me. I feel myself smile and snuggle into the man’s chest, breathing him in and brushing her off. This only makes her stomp her feet harder on the ground in protest. There’s something about his warmth that makes me feel safe and guarded, like I fit perfectly inside his grasp.

Her breathing hitches when she notices the person holding me. “Jake?”

Jake.

Jake smells good.

Jake feels good, too.

Caitlyn panics. “Olivia, come here—I’ll call Dad to come and get you.” I don’t know if it’s because I’m drunk or delusional, but the fear in her eyes sends chills down my arms.

“Is this one of your non-exclusive boyfriends?” A hiccup escapes my lips. “This one smells good.”

Jake snorts. “I’ll take her home…I’m headed out anyway.” He starts to move his large body backward, away from her. She tries her best to suck him back in, her fear circling us, but he doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t surrender me to her.

Caitlyn nervously giggles. “Um, I can ride with you if you want. She’s my sister—I am responsible for her. What are you even doing here? It’s a really long way from Seattle.”

“The same thing you are, I imagine,” he growls. “How did you get into this party, anyway? I don’t remember seeing your name on the guest list when I RSVP’d.”

“We came with a friend. Sam Collins…do you know him?” Her eyes narrow. “He’s probably looking around for us right now, to make sure we’re okay.”

Even through my haze, I hear the threatening tone in her voice. “Can’t say that I do,” Jake says. “Maybe you should run along and find him—I’m sure he’d love to show you off.”

She reaches for me, but he turns away. “Jake, I really think I should call my dad.”

“I can handle it—I don’t need you to tag along.” He snorts and tightens his grip on me. My insides throw a little victory party as her mouth turns down into a slight frown. He holds my body upright against him as Caitlyn glares at my limp frame. “I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

“I’ll just call my dad; he can come and pick her up, Jake.” Caitlyn’s repeating herself now, her voice getting higher and higher in pitch, frantic.

Why doesn’t she want me going with him? Not that I really care as I snuggle further into Jake’s chest.

He squeezes me tighter. “Like I said, I’m already leaving. I’ll get her home. Don’t worry, okay?” He starts walking down the yard, toward the lot full of parked cars, with my body still pressed against his. His cinnamon breath fills my nose, and his chest is so warm I could fall asleep on it if I let myself totally relax. But he is a stranger, and I am drunk. I should be way more anxious than I am.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep, okay?” he whispers into my hair, now matted with sweat and probably reeking a little of cigar smoke. “I’ll get you home.” He gently places me inside the front seat of a gray Mercedes, straps me in with my seat belt, and quietly shuts the door. The headrest feels so good as I relax and listen to him get into the car next to me. “Where do you live?”

I scoff. “I’m sure you already know.”

Jake pulls the car out of the lot with ease. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I feel sick.

“Nothing.” I smile and open the window to breathe in some of the crisp, September air; I try to follow the trees as we pass them. The leaves are turning now, from green to red and orange, and it makes me smile because no matter how many memories I lose inside of myself, the changing of the seasons will always stay the same; it’ll never betray me. I love the feeling that you get when the world gradually turns from summer to autumn. The smells and the sights and the temperature change make me feel a little less broken inside.

“I’m Jake, by the way.” He rolls my window up from his side, his shoulders shaking as a cold chill apparently passes through his body. “And it’s freezing, so let’s just shut this.”

I feel my face flush. “Sorry, champagne makes me really hot.” I tuck my hands underneath my legs and sigh. “And thanks for the ride. Caitlyn likes to show everyone that I’m just a piece of gum stuck to her shoe any chance she gets.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to leave you a mess on a stranger’s front lawn, now was I?”

I rub my forehead. “I guess I had a little more champagne that I probably should’ve.”

“A little?” He laughs, and I blush for the millionth time. “I watched you guzzle down about six flutes, Bug.”

I’m not quite sure how I feel about him watching me—or the weird nickname he’s given me. Bug?

I know I’ve seen him before, somewhere, but I’d remember meeting someone like Jake around Silver Lake, for sure. Now that I finally have enough courage to look directly at him, I see where I wetted his dress shirt with my sweat-soaked hair and where the grass stains on my dress got his dress slacks dirty. I still feel the liquor in my blood, but there’s something that pulls me toward him and calls for me.

Olivia. Olivia.

Not to mention he’s absolutely gorgeous. He’s concentrating on the road, so I have time to look him over a little soberer than before. His short, copper-blonde hair clings to his head from the evening’s dew, but the top has longer curls that almost fall into his eyes. His jawline is long and joins his strong chin, a defined Adam’s apple moving subtly beneath his skin. His narrow, pale brown eyes sit underneath straight and thin dark brown eyebrows. I can almost reach out and run my finger along the bridge of his nose; it’s perfectly shaped and straight as it leads down to his full top lip and even fuller bottom one. A tingling sensation fills my stomach and creeps lower, so I snap my legs shut to try and drown it out.

“Can we get some coffee? I don’t want to go home just yet.” I smooth out my short dress, the one that Caitlyn forced me to wear. “I left my purse and phone at that party. I guess now would be the time to murder me if you were going to. I have no weapon or any other way to defend myself.”

Jake shakes his head. “Do you always think the worst?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The city comes into view, and a Starbucks passes us by; my mouth waters, but the car lurches past it, and I frown. “What’s so bad in your life that you think that way?”

A low groan comes from my throat. “I just want some coffee, not a lecture.”

“I just want to get to know you, not any attitude.” He pulls into a small coffee shop parking lot. “It’s not every day I get to save a beautiful damsel in distress sprawled out on a wet lawn.”

“Oh, you’re just laying it on thick, aren’t you?” I laugh. “I’m not that drunk, sorry.”

Jake’s brown eyes look hurt as he searches my face for answers. “I think you have a common misconception that all men are the same.”

I stare at him, blankly. “That’s because they are.”

“So any man would’ve picked you up, offered to take you home?”

“Yes, they would. Although you are the first guy that hasn’t tried to get under my dress, so I thank you for that.” My words slur as I open the door, letting myself out. “But the day is still young.” The parking lot spins; I manage to stand and brace myself as I hear his door slam shut.

Jake looks angry as he races toward me, making sure I don’t fall on my face and hurt myself. “Let me help you,” he growls in my ear, putting his arm around my waist like Sam did and tugging me into him.

Cinnamon and whiskey.

I smile and breathe in deeply, nearly unable to stop myself from standing on my toes and planting one on his lips out of curiosity. He pushes me inside and places me at a small, secluded table.

“Don’t move. I’ll get the coffee.” He eyeballs me, and I suddenly feel like doing what he says. I’m in no position to argue anyways, not with someone who has saved me from embarrassment in the upper-class Silver Lake community. When Jake comes back, he hands me a large, steaming mug, and I smile.

“Americano.” He blushes and sips from his own mug, something dark and rich. “I hope you like it.”

It’s just the only coffee I order, that’s all.

“How do you know my sister?” I look around the small coffee shop, noticing two women around my age eyeing us and drooling over Jake—even with me sitting three feet away from him.

Jake puts his mug down. “I’d rather not talk about her.”

I snort and sip more of the deliciousness inside of the mug. “If you know Caitlyn, you know that I don’t like to talk about her.”

The corners of his mouth twitch as he thinks of an answer. He just looks so damn…sad. “What I want to know is where you’ve been hiding.” Watching him lick the coffee from his lips is intoxicating. I’m sure that I’m staring as he sucks his tongue back into his mouth and smiles. “But yeah, anyway, I’ve known Caitlyn for a long time.”

“Then it actually makes sense that we haven’t met before.” Even though it feels like we have. My teeth find the inside of my cheek.

“How so?” Jake’s smile broadens, and it makes me feel even more jumbled inside.

Annoyed at the fact that I can’t stop looking at his wide smile, I gulp down more coffee before I can keep making a fool of myself. I swallow the hot liquid and wince at the heat in my throat. “I don’t try and make it a point to meet her friends from that part of her life.”

His eyebrows rise in intrigue. “That part of her life?”

I finish the coffee and lick my lips; Jake puts up two long fingers in the air, motioning for the barista to bring me more. “You know, cocktail parties and charity balls and black-tie parties and fancy barbecues in rich people’s football field-sized backyards. She’s putting herself into a world where she doesn’t belong.” I watch his thick thumb rub the handle of the mug and think about what his fingers would feel like on mine. There’s no doubt he’s attractive—every woman in this place can feel the sex appeal dripping off of him like wax off of a burning candle. The barista skips to our table and refills my cup, looking at Jake the whole time.

Jake thanks her and hands her a tip. I feel so self-aware that it’s haunting me. I’m not looking for whatever he’s trying to give me—or take from me. He finishes his mug and denies a refill from the woman. I feel the breeze of the door opening and cross my legs harder, suddenly remembering that I’m in a short, black cocktail dress.

His eyebrows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“This dress isn’t appropriate for a coffee shop.” I tug the bottom of the dress down and hope I don’t pull the top of it down with it. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

He stands up and moves his chair next to me, blocking me from anyone’s view before he throws his suit jacket over my shoulders. “There, now no one can see your inappropriate dress.” I try to move my chair a little away from him, but he continues before I can. “And can I just say…that dress isn’t appropriate for anything outside a man’s fantasy, Bug.”

I melt all over the floor without him realizing it. I try not to notice the pet name he’s created for me, even though a chill runs down my spine every time he says it. My hips are sore from squishing my legs together so hard, so I relax and try my best not to think about it. I notice him staring at my mouth, his hungry eyes fixed on my bottom lip, and I feel so self-conscious that I look away. “Don’t do that,” he murmurs. “Don’t look away—I see you in there somewhere.”

After nearly spitting out the rest of my coffee, I wipe the excess off my lips with a napkin. “What do you mean, you see me in here somewhere? Of course you do. I’m sitting inches away from you.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t be difficult.”

My head spins. “I just need to get home and get some sleep.”

Jake looks hurt that I didn’t return his flirty banter. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, I can take a cab.” I stand up, desperately wanting for him to stop me. “You’ve helped me enough. You’re a nice guy, Jake.”

“I don’t mind, really.”

“Please…” I hold my hand out to stop him from standing up. “Just let me go.”

Jake thinks for a few seconds until he relaxes back in the chair; he presses his lips together, seeming to think carefully over his next words. “If that’s what you want.”

I nod. “I’m sorry about you having to save me; that’s not the kind of person I am.”

“Exactly what kind of person are you, Olivia?”

There’s a moment where I think I can sit down and tell him everything. It would be nice to talk to someone for once that isn’t biased about helping me remember things they think are important.

“I’m not sure.”

“When can I see you again?” Desperation fills his voice, and it makes me sad. I honestly had no intentions of seeing Jake again, but something keeps drawing me back into him and his sad, light brown eyes and permanent frown.

“Olivia, I just found you—I need to see you again.” The magic in his voice almost uplifts me. The hope that seeps through his mouth suffocates me, but I don’t say anything before walking away from him to find a cab outside.

He follows me outside loyally. “Here, at least take this.” A twenty-dollar bill is wrapped up in his fingers, and he doesn’t let me jerk my hand away. He places it firmly in my palm before turning to hail a cab for me. I hop inside and don’t say a word as he vanishes into the distance.

The whole ride home, all I can think about is the way he handled me when I fell and the flirty smiles that spread across his juicy lips whenever I blushed. His entire presence is so easy to be around that I find myself wondering if I should have stayed with him at the coffee shop.

It hurts to think as hard as I have been lately, but I search my mind for some sliver of a memory of him and find nothing.

One thing is for sure.

Even if I don’t know Jake, he definitely knows me.

Chapter Two

Unicorn

“You should’ve seen her, Daddy.”

My head is pounding as I wake up to bright sunlight and the familiar screeching sound of Caitlyn’s voice downstairs, whining to our parents about how horrible it is to be in public with me. It’s not exactly a basket of roses for me, either.

I hardly remember the cab ride home after I left Jake behind. I managed to shimmy out of the cocktail dress, now lying on the floor, and put on leggings and a t-shirt before passing out. I touch my lips and think about the dream I had—the champagne-induced dream—of Jake and me in some pretty steamy positions that make me blush even now.

“She literally almost passed out on the lawn!” The twinge in her whine heightens, and I feel her disappointment even from a completely different level of the house.

“Caitlyn, worry about yourself, okay? I don’t know why you even went to that party,” my dad says. I hear the strain in his tone as he tries to hold back his anger. “Honestly, when are you going to grow up and realize our lives are different now?”

Hearing this makes my eyes pop open. There have been a few times when I caught my dad, mom, and Caitlyn talking about something intense, but whenever they realize I’m listening, it always stops. This time, I don’t move a muscle or even breathe, just in case. I want to know what they’re hiding from me; I want validation that my dreams are real and there’s something they aren’t telling me.

“I can’t babysit her anymore, and I shouldn’t have to! Not to mention who she left with—”

“Who did she leave with?”

She whimpers; the position she’s put herself in now isn’t as bad as ones she’s put herself in before, but still…Dad can be pretty intimidating sometimes.

“Jake Redding.”

He slams his newspaper down on the table, making me jump. It gets eerily silent, so I decide that I better get up and face the music before Caitlyn shoves her foot any deeper into her own mouth.

“Caitlyn, it’s time to get on board with this or else.”

“Or else, what?”

He mumbles something, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. She starts her waterworks and searches the house for Mom. Her sobs flit around the floor beneath me, and my mom’s quiet voice tries to comfort her. This gives me an advantage—I can avoid them when I finally start padding on bare feet down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Hey, Dad.” I yawn and pick out a coffee mug, smiling to myself as I think about Jake and his Americano lucky guess. I wonder how he knew that was my favorite kind. It makes me think about his juicy bottom lip turned up into a mischievous smile, and I scold myself for obsessing over him. “I guess you’ve heard what happened yesterday, then.”

He nods and picks his newspaper back up, not interested in having this conversation any more than I am. “You know I heard, you little eavesdropper. Is that true, who you left with? That part is the only one that concerns me.”

“Jake? I didn’t know his last name until now.”

His eyebrows rise, and he looks slightly over his newspaper, just enough for me to notice, but then snaps his gaze back to the open pages. “Well, just be careful.” His teeth grind together. This reaction is something I’m used to when my family gets into situations they don’t want to talk about. Usually, it’s just a hard subject change, but now Dad just starts to ignore the conversation completely.

“I don’t plan on seeing him again, so it’s really not a big deal.” I find some Pop-Tarts in the cabinet, my stomach growling as I quickly open the package. I sit down next to him and pick up the comics. We read in silence except for the sounds of me chewing the breakfast goodness.

“You know, who I come home with won’t be an issue when I move out.” A bit of Pop-Tart falls from my open mouth, making Dad shake his head. “I have enough money saved up to get my own apartment.”

“If you’re ready to move out, you’re welcome to do so. Your mom and I have always told you that.”

“No, you’ve told me that recently. Who knows what you told me before my accident?”

Now that I’ve mentioned the accident, Dad gets uneasy. He doesn’t like talking about it, mainly because I start asking questions he doesn’t want to answer.

“Olivia,” he warns me. “I’m not having this conversation again. Have you been talking to Dr. Ross about your dreams?”

“Yes.”

“What does he say?”

For the record, I hate going to Dr. Ross. He’s the therapist they stuck me with after I started expressing concerns about dreams and headaches I started having after the accident. I’m forced to see him two times a week for an hour each time. It’s not exactly what I’d call fun.

“He says it’s my brain’s way of trying to heal. That the memories aren’t really mine.”

His newspaper goes back up like a shield. “He’s the one with the degree, honey. I think he knows more about it than we do. If he says the memories aren’t yours, why do you insist that they are?”

The doorbell rings, and neither of us volunteers to go answer it. He’s done with the conversation and goes back to reading the newspaper. We’re both hoping that Caitlyn or my mother will answer the door instead. I smile as I read a comic about a dog who’s always getting himself into trouble, totally unaware that anyone else has entered the house.

“What are you doing here?” Caitlyn growls from the living room. A deep voice mumbles something back, but I’m not committed to listening to my sister flirt with some random guy in our foyer. I pull my legs up and tuck them underneath me in the seat; my dad shakes his head because he hates when I do this. “…Oh yeah, sure. She’s in the kitchen—it’s through there,” my sister snaps at the visitor. A breeze wafts through the kitchen, and I feel him before I even look up.

Jake.

He smiles warmly at me from the doorway and then notices my father—he tucks his charm back into his pocket to use on me later. “I thought you might want this back.” He smirks and holds up my clutch from yesterday…complete with gold sparkles, booze smell, and all. His dark maroon pullover sweater clings to his defined chest as he shakes the bag in mid-air. The space between his lips broadens as he chuckles at my embarrassment.

I start coughing, signaling for him to stop talking. “You didn’t have to do that…I could’ve gone by there later.”

“Well, a simple ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

My father snorts behind his paper, and I glare at Jake, who isn’t as amused. “Thank you,” I say with zero enthusiasm as I stand up, forgetting that I’m in pajamas, and go to snatch the purse from his hand. He looks down at me, his copper blonde curls shining in the daylight; he pretends to hold onto the purse with more strength than I have, pulling me closer to him.

“Can I take you to breakfast?” The spice in his voice showers over me, making my knees a little weak as he lets go of the purse and forces me to take a few steps backward.

“I’ve already eaten, thanks.” I shake my head and brush past him, hoping he’ll just take the hint and leave.

“What is it about me that repulses you so much?” He walks after me, no rush in his steps. “I’m not sure what you’ve been told about me—”

I whip around and glare at him. “No one has said anything to me about you, if you must know. You don’t repulse me—I said thank you for the purse. What else do you want from me?”

“Breakfast, I’m hungry.” He pouts, and I have to admit—it’s adorable. The soft, short curls on top of his head make me shiver where I stand. I want to wrap my fingers around them and lose myself in his pouty bottom lip.

He also makes me want to scream my lungs out. “I’ve eaten already…”

The low growl that comes from his throat is exciting and terrifying at the same time. He rubs the bridge of his nose and forces a smile. His once-warm eyes are now stoic and cold, chilling me to my core; I wish I’d shoved socks on my feet now that my entire body is covered in chills. “Okay, so you’ve eaten already. When can I see you, then?”

“You see me right now, don’t you?”

That wasn’t the right thing to say at all.

“You’re frustrating as hell—do you know that?” His intensity is overwhelming as he towers over me, but I have no intention of backing down from his demanding stance. Caitlyn stomps down the stairs and eyes the two of us, placing her body close to mine but far enough away to keep from brushing arms with me accidentally. Even though Jake and I are steaming at each other, she turns to look at me like he’s not even still in the room.

“Livvie, can you help me pick out an outfit for my date with Sam?”

Taken aback by this sudden interest in allowing me into her room, I brush her off when she tries to snake her arm around mine. “Maybe you can ask Jake for his opinion,” I offer.

“I don’t have an opinion about her body or what she wears.”

Caitlyn snickers. “Yeah, now, maybe.”

Jake notices my eyes grow wide and turns to my sister, clenching his already tight jaw. Almost laughing—because why wouldn’t they have been together—I clap my hands together sharply and sigh almost a little too loudly. “Oh, were you two together? So that’s why you seem so familiar to me. You were one of Caitlyn’s flings, right? Well, Jake, don’t you want to take a trip down memory lane with my sister? I’m sure you two have more in common than you might care to admit.”

His eyes darken as he barely opens his mouth to growl back, “Oh, do tell, Olivia. Like what, exactly?”

I bite my bottom lip and push his frustration away from me as quickly as possible. I bet he likes to suck me into his controlling whirlwind because he can tell I like it a little. “Like me, for example. I don’t want anything to do with either of you right now.” I blow out a deep breath, push my long, chocolate-brown hair behind me, and walk away from the confused pair without a second thought or regret. There’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere with someone who dated—and probably slept with—Caitlyn. That’s not my type at all.

“I’ll pick you up at seven for dinner.” His voice booms up the stairs, but I just give him a backward wave. The purse is still clutched in my hand as I shut my bedroom door and go to the window. I wait a few minutes to see him walk outside and stop, playing with his phone before standing in front of the gray Mercedes parked in the driveway.

“I’m coming in!” Caitlyn yells but doesn’t knock. This is something she does regularly…when she needs something from me. I cringe when I think about the last time she burst into my room and told me she was dragging me along to that stupid barbecue.

I throw a pillow at her but miss. “Get out!”

Caitlyn rolls her eyes—heavy with eyeliner even this early in the morning—as she marches across the room on perfectly tanned and waxed legs and collapses into the small, black armchair by the bookcase. She scans the shelves for something in her wheelhouse to read. I don’t subscribe to whatever female swag magazine she reads, so she gives up and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for me to speak first.

“He’s all yours.” I walk toward my closet, looking for a clean pair of jeans. I hardly want to sit here and argue with her about someone I have no interest in. The last thing I want is her sloppy seconds.

“Oh, I’m not here to talk about that.” She opens a Rolling Stone magazine from the bookshelf. Her nose turns up when she sifts further through it, but it makes me smile just the same. “Jake Redding is trouble—what does he even want with you? Has he said anything?”

I slam my closet door and throw a pair of decent jeans on my bed after sniffing them to make sure I could still detect laundry soap. “Can you stop with the drama, Caitlyn? I just said he’s all yours. What more do you want from me? I have no interest in dating someone that’s already been contaminated by you.”

She hardly realizes that I’m insulting her, because in her world, she is the Queen and all of the little peasants don’t matter. “I want to know why he’s picking you up for dinner at seven.”

I take my leggings off and put the jeans on, replacing my t-shirt with a brick-red v-neck while she waits for me to answer. “I don’t know, Caitlyn.” I sigh and find some sneakers under the bed, sliding them on my feet. “I’m not going to dinner with him. You can go if you want.”

She squeals and claps her hands together. “You should just call him and cancel if it doesn’t matter to you.” I groan, making sure she knows I’m annoyed, but the Queen doesn’t care.

“I don’t know why you even care. Didn’t you already get what you wanted from him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She laughs like I should be as impressed with her as she is and tries to toss her hair behind her shoulder. It’s like a comforting, repetitive motion for her. She still doesn’t confirm her involvement with him. “Jake Redding is sort of like a…unicorn.”

I laugh instantly. “A unicorn? Oh, this’ll be good.”

“No, seriously. It’s pretty intense to be near him; I won’t lie about it. He’s strong-willed, and he knows what he wants, but he gets a little scary sometimes.” Her fingernail taps on the now-closed magazine in her lap. “You can feel it, right?” Caitlyn smacks her glossed lips and shakes her head, not waiting for my answer. “He’s the mysterious Redding boy, after all.”

“Why’s he so mysterious? Seems to me he just doesn’t want to play your little high school games.” She stands up, knocking the magazine to the floor and not even blinking an eye to the mess she’s made at her feet.

“Well, Jake is the oldest of the Redding boys: There are four. There’s Jake; he’s twenty-five. Tyler is twenty-four, Noah is twenty-three, like you, and Grant is twenty-one, like me.” I try to pretend like I don’t care, especially since she still feels the need to remind me of basic facts about myself, like my age, as if I’m completely mentally incompetent. “Their mother, Mary-Anne, is a socialite, they come from old money, and Jake is the only Redding boy that you hardly see at any social functions or in any pictures. He doesn’t like the spotlight—he actually hasn’t been seen or heard from in over a year.”

“And that makes him mysterious? Hardly.” I turn my back to her, but I’m interested in the conversation now. “How do you know so much about him?”

“I mean, duh, it’s not that hard. Anyone who’s smart enough to use the internet can dig up dirt on someone.”

A light turns on inside my brain—why haven’t I thought about this before? She notices the new glimmer in my eye and realizes she’s messed up.

“I don’t even care. I don’t want him—you can have him.” I cringe at the fact that I basically just treated him like property from a board game, but I have to make her feel like I’ve moved on from my idea.

She forces a giggle and skips out of the room, not bothering to pick up the magazine that she let drop on the floor. I don’t even worry about saying anything as I pick it up and look around the room, pocketing my phone. I finally find my car keys underneath a pile of scrap pieces of paper in my purse, which I use to write down thoughts whenever I get them, in fear that I might forget everything by the time I reach thirty. Napkins, receipts, fast food bags…whatever I have at the time. I smile when I start to read some of them and place them gently on the dresser. I glance up at my reflection in the mirror, staring back at me with what appear to be knowing eyes.

“What?” I say to it, shrugging. “I’m not that big of a mess.”

“You’re going to be late for Dr. Ross if you don’t get a move on,” my mom says from down the hallway. I glance at the clock next to my bed. She’s right; I have twenty minutes to get to his office, and it’s fifteen minutes away. My shift at the YMCA starts not long after my appointment, so I find my backpack underneath a pile of clothes. After throwing my charger and some notebooks into it, I zip it up and race down the hallway, kissing my mother on the cheek as I pass her by.

I half-expect to see Jake’s gray Mercedes blocking me in the driveway; I daydream about his big hands wrapped around my waist and his cinnamon breath as he kisses me. Before I see it, I step into a hole that my mom has dug into the ground for a seedling, and my ankle twists behind me in searing pain. I manage to stand and climb into my car without alarming anyone—I just wanted to go to work and leave this entire morning behind me—but my mind keeps racing back to Jake and everything sinister I can think about him in a fifteen-minute drive.

I hardly remember driving to Dr. Ross’ office as I pull into a parking spot and take my time turning off the car. Each path I take in my mind when I think about Jake…they all lead to the same exact place, the same thought:

Jake is part of me.

Chapter Three

The boy

I hate the squeaky leather sofa that Dr. Ross makes his patients sit on. It’s hard and plastic feeling underneath me; it’s probably another way for him to annoy the people who come to him for help.

Like me.

I stopped talking in our appointments a few weeks ago when Dr. Ross—a sixty-something man with a gray ponytail and full beard—told me flat out that my dreams and slivers of memories aren’t mine, and I’m creating them to fill a void inside of my soul.

“So, Olivia…” He starts with this same speech every time just as he sits down across from me in his comfy-looking armchair. “Have you been having any more dreams?”

I shake my head and stay silent.

“Are we spending this hour in silence again, then?”

Somehow, I don’t even blink—that would be some form of reaction that I can’t afford.

“Olivia, I can’t help you unless you talk to me.”

“I did talk to you.” I’m fully aware that I’ve broken my code of silence against him just to defend myself. “I told you everything. I told you about the dreams I’ve been having; I told you about the people in my dreams and every detail about them. You said I was making them up inside my head.”

He nods and scratches something on a yellow notepad. “And you still think I’m wrong?”

“I know you’re wrong.”

His pen moves faster. “Can you tell me how you know that?”

“I just know, okay? I don’t care what you say—you’re wrong.”

He holds up his hands and waves me down. “Okay, let’s say that I’m wrong. I’m open to exploring that option if you are. Can you tell me what it is about these dreams that makes you believe so strongly that they’re yours?”

What a stupid question.

“They’re coming from my brain.”

“Yes, but…is that the only reason you think so?”

There hasn’t been a second where I even thought I would open myself up to Dr. Ross again, just to get pushed back down. Still, he’s the only person still willing to listen to me, and I have to take what I can get.

“I know they’re my memories. They feel too real when I wake up for them not to be. Something isn’t right, Dr. Ross, and I have to figure out what it is. Maybe it’s because I can’t remember anything from before the car accident, and it’s my way of filling in the blanks, but I don’t really think so. I can’t explain it, but…there are things that just…feel right.”

He writes quickly on the notepad while I speak. Once I stop, he lays his pen down on the pad, and his narrow blue eyes look up. “Why don’t you close your eyes, lean your head back, and take me through the dream like we would do before?”

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly before leaning my head back on the sofa so I can let the rest of my body relax. Dr. Ross counts backward from ten slowly, and by the time he hits one, my body is slumped on the cushions and I’m nearly snoozing away. This is one of the few places that allows me to relax enough to trust that someone won’t snatch me in my sleep and I’ll wake up without any memories at all.

“Okay, start from the beginning…”

***

Big red and white moving trucks take up the entire circle drive. There are dozens of men running around in brown jumpsuits with the words “Seattle’s Best Moving” on their backs in bold, black letters. One man is ordering them around; he’s pointing and barking at his men.

“Work faster and smarter! Faster and smarter!” His spit launches into the air around him.

I’m off to the side, where I’ve found a spot near one of the trucks in the grass to play with my dolls. Their names are Eliza and Mary, and I can’t remember when I got them, but I know Santa brought them to me years ago.

It’s warm outside. Unusually wet and warm. Muggy. It’s May, and the spring rains have already started to retreat for the summer heat. Things are strange and fuzzy inside my head—it’s hard to focus.

“There you are!” a woman shrieks behind me before plucking me up from the ground. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Where’ve you been?” Her voice sounds funny. She’s not from around here; her accent sounds like Mary Poppins. “Your mother has been ill about you!”

She takes care of me, this woman. I can’t remember her name.

“Come on.” Her strong grip wraps around my tiny wrist. “You’ll get lost in all this ruckus. Are you hungry, dear?”

My stomach rumbles as soon as the woman stops to look down at me. Her eyes are big, round, and golden brown. They make me feel warm and loved despite the stern look on her face. I know she cares about me, but I don’t know who she is.

“Where did you find her?” A tall man bends down in front of me once the lady closes the front door of the enormous brown house behind us. “Where’ve you been, love?”

His accent is the same as hers, only a little rougher. “I don’t know,” I say. I’m not scared or sad; I feel nothing. The man accepts my answer as gold and winks at me, patting my head. His long, spider-like legs stand back upright, and he frowns at the lady still holding my arm. “You’ll do good to keep track of her, won’t you, Miss Claudine?”

Miss Claudine. That’s her name. She’s my nanny. But who is he?

“I will, sir.” She flicks the corners of her mouth up into a smile. “I was taking her in for lunch.”

The man nods and moves to the side, smiling at me as the lady gently pushes me past him. Miss Claudine was the one who told me we were moving here; she’s the one who flew on the plane with me, and she’s the one who gave me candies when I started to cry.

Yet I never hear anyone say my name in these dreams.

Miss Claudine sits me on a chair in the kitchen, then rummages through some boxes to produce a clean plate and utensils. “These will have to do for now.”

“Can we order a pizza?”

Her peachy cheeks brighten. “I think that would be just fine for today.”

Our moment is broken by the sounds of children screaming and playing outside. I race into the living room to find the source from the open windows. Dozens of children, big and small, run wild around the yard of the big blue house across the street. Kids zip around each other, tossing footballs and throwing water balloons.

“Can we go over there?”

Miss Claudine puckers her lips. “We can’t just go barging into someone’s party, sweetheart.”

“It’s a kid’s birthday party.”

The look she gives me tells me that she’s giving in. “All right, then. Off you go to crash another child’s birthday party, you little social butterfly.” She laughs and follows me from the house and back into the front yard, where fewer movers are flittering around.

My stomach hurts from the nerves of not knowing anyone at the party and getting caught, but I pluck courage from somewhere and wear it proudly as we march across the street and enter the backyard of the party house with our heads held high.

Miss Claudine is able to snag us some birthday cake and grape soda, which makes her feel triumphant and useful. Loud music is playing over dozens of speakers around the extravagantly decorated backyard, and kids are everywhere I look.

“And who is this?” A woman stands next to the table we’ve sat down at to eat. “I don’t believe I’ve met you. Are you in my son’s class?”

Miss Claudine blushes red. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She sticks out her hand for the woman to shake. “My name is Claudine, and we’ve just moved in across the street. We didn’t mean to crash the party.”

“No, please don’t leave. You’re welcome to stay and enjoy the party. Why don’t you run along with the other children and play, dear?”

The two women stare at me, so I leave my half-eaten birthday cake and grape soda on the table and walk away so they can talk in private. The garden paths I find myself on wind around the backyard, and the screams get louder and things start to crash to the ground.

“That’s my piñata!” a boy shrieks.

I push a few bushes aside and see dozens of kids helping themselves to the contents of a broken piñata while the boy who’d just spoken stands with his hands in the air. There’s nothing he can do but watch his birthday fun being stripped from him by a litter of his savage friends. The bushes crinkle beneath my feet, and it catches his attention, but I manage to step back from them in time so he doesn’t see me.

A stone bench sits on the other side of the clearing, so I sit down and bring my knees up to tuck them under my chin while I wait for Miss Claudine to find me again.

“Hey, who are you?” The boy’s voice finds me. “I don’t know you.”

He walks into the clearing and crosses his arms over the chest of his blue t-shirt.

“I’m moving in across the street.”

“Why? What happened to Todd and his family?”

I shrug and look at the ground. “I don’t know who that is. Sorry.”

“Why are you so sad?”

“I’m not sad.”

The boy laughs, and his feet shuffle closer to me. “You look sad.”

“Mind your business.”

“This is my party!” He laughs at me again. “You’re pretty frustrating.”

I hear my dad call my mom that all the time. A warm feeling washes over me, and I know the dream is going to end soon—it happens every time. The boy smiles at me; his white-toothed grin gives me good feelings inside.

“I’m eleven today.”

“Happy Birthday.”

He’s tall for his age but bossy too. When everything around me starts to fade, I bring my eyes up to meet his so I can hold onto him for a little longer. He’s the first person that’s entered my dreams that’s given me this feeling.

“You and I are going to be best friends,” the boy announces with a smirk, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll see.”

“I don’t even know you. How can you know that?”

He sits down on the gravel path in front of me. Miss Claudine calls my name in the distance, but time’s already run out.

“I just know.”

Chapter Four

Pizza, please

Tongue-and-cheek is always the best way to solve a problem.

The cheap, scratchy paper wrinkles in my fingers as I read the words over and over again. I never really believed in fortune cookies and their magic powers like everyone else. The thought of my entire future hanging on the balance of some pre-printed, mass-produced stale vanilla cookie is laughable.

Then again, I’d believe just about anything right now.

“What’s yours say?” Brant, who’s on duty in the weightlifting rooms today, hovers over me and snatches the paper from my fingers. “Oh, man. You know you’re supposed to put the words ‘in bed’ after each fortune, right?”

I shake my head and reach up to re-do the messy bun that holds my tangled mess of thick hair in place. I don’t care what he’s talking about. I just want to eat my lunch in peace and obsess about what I don’t know about my past and why Caitlyn hates Jake so much. I don’t care what anyone says; I know I’m right about this.

“No, I didn’t know that,” I dryly say, but he doesn’t catch my hint and go away.

“Yeah, so it’s ‘Tongue-and-cheek is always the best way to solve a problem…in bed.’” His smile matches his mental age, and I want to vomit. I can’t break free and run, though—he’s in my area, and I can’t leave the front desk. “Get it?” Brant snorts, and I can’t help but crack a smile at his stupidity. I actually like him a little—in a platonic way. He’s fresh out of high school, eighteen and bright-eyed, something I’m definitely not. I can never tell if he’s flirting with me or he’s just plain clueless, but either way I’m in no way interested.

“Go away, Brant.” I pretend I’m annoyed. “You’re immature.”

He winks at me and smacks the desk before turning to walk away, his tanned muscles bulging from the ripped tank top he wears. “Yeah, but that’s why you love me, Liv.” He pockets my fortune and waves at me but doesn’t look back. I have a few hours to kill before I can go home, and my lemon chicken is cold and rubbery, so I toss the takeout container and open up a new browser on the desktop computer. Googling my name, my parents’ names, and Caitlyn’s name turns up absolutely nothing. It’s almost like none of us even exist.

“So much for that idea.” My whisper turns the air bitter.

I barely notice that I’m five minutes late shutting the front desk down when Brant’s exhausted voice wafts down the hall. “Hey, get your head out of the clouds. It’s after seven already.” He yells so I’ll shut off the lights in the weight rooms and he can go home, too. I rush through everything and grab my stuff; he waits for me as I lock the door behind us. We start walking toward my car, like we always do when he closes with me.

“Oh, hey, man. We’re actually closed now, but we open at nine tomorrow, okay? You can come back then if you want to work out.”

A weird feeling pushes through my body when I reach into my bag to fish around for my car keys.

“Yo, man, I said we’re closed,” Brant says, his voice getting louder. “Did you hear me? You need to stay back.” I stiffen and fumble faster for my keys, though I can’t tell what direction this mystery person is coming from. “Hey, look, don’t come any closer, man…I’m warning you.”

The fear in Brant’s voice is finally enough for me to stop digging through my bag and look at the person he’s talking to.

I gasp loudly and blush the hardest I ever have in my entire life.

Jake.

Jake is here.

Jake is here at my job.

He. Looks. Pissed.

I feel his disappointment from the few feet away we are from each other. Clutching my chest, I tap Brant on the shoulder and laugh nervously. “It’s okay. He’s here for me.” Both of their sets of eyebrows rise in intrigue, and I realize what I just said. “No…” I shake my head, and my hair falls from the bun for the millionth time tonight. “I mean, I know him, he’s okay. You can go ahead and go home, Brant.”

“But—”

Jake clenches his jaw and glares at the poor kid. “She said to leave.”

Brant isn’t sure, but he eventually gets scared enough of Jake to bow out and practically run to his car across the lot. I shake my head at Jake and scowl; his temper is ridiculously out of control and seriously embarrassing to witness. “You don’t have to be such a jerk. You do know that, right?”

“You were supposed to have dinner with me tonight.” His voice is cool, and I can see the lost look on his face as he steps into the dimly lit space in front of me. “You should’ve told me you had to work. I would’ve waited and picked you up.”

“Well, I drove myself, so that would’ve been pretty hard.” I wink sarcastically and brush my body past his, touching his arm with my shoulder on purpose. “Thanks for running my bodyguard off; have a good night.”

It isn’t a surprise that his long legs catch up with mine in just a few strides, but then he turns me around and gently pushes me against the side of my blue, hand-me-down station wagon. I can feel his breath on my lips and they tingle; sparks of electricity run up and down each lip until he starts tugging at the ends of my hair and twisting them in his thick fingers.

“What am I gonna do with you, Olivia?” His whisper is rough and dirty. “You just keep trying to run from me, and I don’t intend to let anyone keep you from me again.”

I can’t breathe. My throat is dry as he clutches the sides of my hips and holds me in place, exactly where he wants me to be. What does he mean by someone keeping me from him…again?

“You know, some guys do know when no means no.” I breathe slowly. His eyes are hooded and on fire. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t want someone who slept with my sister, and trust me, that doesn’t leave very many men left in a close radius.”

Jake’s full lips turn up into a smile. He’s so damn close to me I can almost taste him.

Cinnamon and whiskey.

I let myself breathe him in, and the world melts into dark colors around me. “I never slept with Caitlyn…or wanted to, for that matter. I like my women feisty, disease-free, and strikingly beautiful.”

“I don’t care either way.” I try and catch my breath, but his thumbs are pressing into my hips with frustration. His body is dangerously warm and inviting enough for me to want to throw it all out the window and let myself melt into him. “I-I need to go.”

He glares at me and pulls away; the entire firework show stops cold. “Let me take you to dinner—you need to eat.”

“Is that a demand? Caitlyn did say you are intense and demanding.”

He keeps his eyes on mine and licks his full lips. The wetness that stays behind is intoxicating enough for me to need to taste it. “Can we stop talking about her?” he snaps. I’m a little uneasy about his temper—Caitlyn warned me about that, too—but I’m not going to say another word about her. I’ve made him angry and frustrated enough for one day; I at least feel bad enough about it to let him take me to one small little harmless dinner.

“Okay, pizza.” I force a smile across my face. “Pizza, please.”

Jake scoffs. “I can take you wherever you want, and you want pizza?”

“Are you a pizza snob, Jake?” I joke and poke his sides playfully; that’s something my sister probably would’ve done, and that makes me feel ten shades of icky inside. “We can’t be friends if you don’t like pizza. That’s like a number one rule for being friends with me.”

He laughs, and I notice how light and airy it is when it’s real. “It’s a good thing I don’t want to just be your friend, then.” He opens the passenger door of the Mercedes and nudges me inside, closing me in and getting in next to me. “Are you afraid of me? I’ve been told that I can get a little intense lately. I recently lost something that meant the entire world to me, and it’s been frustrating getting it back. I think I’ve been doing a decent job of keeping the heat down.”

I want to burst out in laughter. “You could stand to turn it down a few more notches.”

“Are you mocking me, Bug?” He turns to face me. I don’t want to see if he’s joking or not, in fear that he isn’t as amused as I am. “I do think you owe me an apology, Olivia.” The last few letters roll off of his tongue like sweet candy melting in his mouth.

“No one calls me Olivia unless I’m in trouble.” I shake my head and look through my bag for my phone to send my mother a text telling her that I’m not coming home right away. After a few seconds of me ignoring him, he clears his throat. Our eyes meet; I blush something fierce, and he licks his bottom lip.

“You blush a lot,” he teases me, and his eyes take on a playful sparkle. “I guess I’ll let you slide on that apology.”

“Apology in the form of what? Handwritten letter? Social media? Verbal?” I laugh and shove my phone into my jeans pocket. The weight of the car shifts, and I smell his cinnamon breath before I turn my head and see his body inches from mine again.

“Whatever you want.”

I’m so nervous I might actually lose all body function. “I’m sorry I made fun of you.” The words stumble out of my mouth, and he draws back, amused that I’ve managed to make my way out of that one with grace. There’s a challenge in his eyes as he drives us away from the parking lot, my car fading in the distance.

“Where are you kidnapping me to?” I try and lighten the mood, and he smiles from the side. “I mean, you basically are kidnapping me.”

Jake pulls the car into the parking lot of a brilliantly lit café almost an hour later and pushes the shifter into park. “Since you act like a child most of the time, I can safely say I agree with you about the kidnapping part.” Pouting, I push open the door and let myself out, not waiting for his lean body to catch up to me so I can try to make it inside before he does. The hostess that greets us, a really tall and thin black-haired girl, looks at me with knowing eyes.

Even strangers can see right through me.

“Why are we in Garden View? Are you taking me to Seattle?”

He chuckles. “Not unless you want to go to Seattle, but that’s still almost ten hours away. What’s in Seattle?”

“Well, hello to the both of you.” I half-expect to see cigarette smoke come out of her mouth, from her stale, scratchy voice. “It’s been a long time. Table for two?”

I feel Jake behind me, close enough to touch me. “Yes, Abby. Is my usual table free?” His arm slides around my waist and rests on my hip bone, exciting me in every way imaginable. I like when he touches me, though I wouldn’t admit it out loud. There’s something soothing in the way he handles me; he doesn’t need a map of my body to know exactly where things are.

Abby motions for us to follow her, and he gently pushes me ahead of him, like he’s protecting me from some weird freak attack from behind.

Or like he thinks I’m going to run from him.

“A pitcher of raspberry iced tea, please, Abby,” Jake says, and the woman nods, running off to do what he asks. The café isn’t a hole-in-the-wall; there are socialites having cocktails with their girlfriends in designer clothes and handbags and businessmen having nightcaps and trying to pick up the socialites for a last-minute booty call. They’re all off in their own self-soaked worlds, and here I am: alone with the mysterious and super intense Jake Redding.

He thanks Abby for the pitcher and pours the liquid into my empty crystal drinking glass first, then his own. “Thank you for coming here with me. This place holds a lot of memories for someone I used to know.”

“Why am I here?” I feel the words jump from my tongue, maybe a little angrier than I originally intended. “What exactly do you want from me, Jake?”

My outburst doesn’t make him happy. His long, square jaw tightens, and it’s like his eyes pull mine into him against my will. I can’t look away, and this makes him smile; the dark stubble on his jawline and chin glistens under the café lights, and I find myself wanting to kiss the corners of his thick, frowning mouth.

“And what exactly is it that you think I want from you?”

I snort. “Don’t answer a question with a question.”

“Don’t ask me questions that you don’t want the answer to, then.” He stands his ground as a waiter comes up to us, and my mind races so fast that I barely hear him order a gourmet chicken pizza for us.

“Is she okay? Does she need some water?” the waiter asks Jake, mildly concerned by the paleness of my face.

“She’ll be fine.” Jake waves him off. “You’ll be fine,” he says again, this time to me directly. “Just relax and enjoy the time we spend together; I told you what I want from you.”

“Jake, I’m not looking for anything that you want.”

He sips his iced tea and smirks. “What is it that I want that you can’t give me?”

“I don’t know! You won’t give me straight answers—it’s annoying!” I yell/whisper at him, and this time he looks a little annoyed by my tantrum. “I only came here with you because I felt bad for blowing you off and you made your little weird puppy-dog-Jake face. I don’t want a boyfriend or anything else right now. I have way too many things going on—”

“Like what?” He takes another sip of his iced tea and raises his eyebrows.

My mouth stops moving. I can feel the word vomit rising in my throat; it’s burning my tongue, and I fight with everything I have to keep my story to myself. I don’t need his pity looks or a Prince Charming riding to save the day in his gray Mercedes.

I just want to be able to breathe without feeling like an imposter.

“Jake…” The sorrow in my voice fills the air, and his eyes soften with sadness for me. “There’s just things going on for me right now that take up too much of my time. I’m not looking for anything else more than friends, I guess.”

“So you said.” He smiles, and I get a glimpse of his bright white teeth as he rubs his jaw. When he leans his tall body toward me over the table, he’s still only inches from my face. I smell the cinnamon like it’s bursting from sparkling capsules around my body. “I think you need to relax. It’s only pizza.” He leans back in his chair, his dark blue sweater clinging to his chest as he breathes in and out.

He can breathe freely because he can be himself…I never thought I would be jealous of a blue sweater.

“Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.” His rough thumb runs along his bottom lip, wiping off the excess iced tea from his mouth. “I want to know everything I can about this you.”

I snort. “This me? You met me yesterday, and I was a drunken mess on a stranger’s lawn in a too-short, too-tight cocktail dress. That’s this me.”

Jake licks his lips, and I feel weird in my stomach. I can almost feel his lips on mine, and I touch them to make the tingling stop. “I like that dress,” he says.

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks, but I can’t hide it from him. I have nowhere to run. I bite the inner part of my cheek and force myself to look over at him. “I’m a mess, Jake. I have something wrong with me. Trust me, you really don’t want me.”

“Oh, but trust me, Olivia. I really, really do.” He senses my hesitation and stands up, moving his chair next to me, like he did at the coffee shop yesterday. “You may not understand it right now, but you’ll see just how much I really do want you.”

I want to scream loudly and tell him about my memories.

…or the memories that aren’t there.

What would I even say?

“I’m a complete mess. I can’t remember anything before moving to Silver Lake. Nothing is familiar to me, not even my own family. Sometimes I dream about another life, a life that isn’t mine, and it feels more inviting than this life ever has.”

He takes my hand, and I let him hold it gently in his; he laces our fingers together, and his smile coats my insides like warm maple syrup. “Don’t you know this is real life?” I laugh and place my other hand over my mouth. “I’m not normal; there are things about me that I can’t explain. I’m a mess, but I don’t need you trying to fix me.”

Jake nods, and the waiter brings our pizza. It smells so delicious that my mouth waters when I get a whiff of it. He has, once again, ordered my food and drink for me and gotten my tastes spot-on, like he knows exactly what I like. “I’m not trying to fix you. It’s actually quite the opposite.”

I look down at the steaming perfection on my plate and lick my lips, ready to devour every inch of the cheesy, gooey masterpiece inches from my mouth.

“I need you to fix me.”

Chapter Five

Blue sweaters and promises

I know for a fact that my jaw is on the floor. I feel it against the cool hardwood planks, lying against the part where people place their feet, scraping the dead particles of life across the rough surface without a care in the world.

Don’t laugh, Olivia.

Don’t. Laugh.

“I’m sorry.” I hide the fact that I am completely amused at his confession. “You’re saying that you want me to fix you?”

Jake rubs his chin. He’s upset with me, but I have to admit: he does a pretty good job of taking whatever I throw at him. I’m not trying to be difficult, but I definitely have no intention of fixing someone else when the pieces of my own life feel like they’re permanently in shambles.

“Olivia, say something, please.” He grunts and looks around the café, noticing the women staring at him without shame. He hardly cares as his eyes quickly find their way back to mine. His hand is still glued to mine, and he squeezes, hard.

The air is dry and scratches my throat. “I have a lot going on in my life, and I don’t have room for you.”

Jake takes another sip of his tea. He glances over at me and ignores my hesitation; he’s so comfortable around me that it’s surprising. “What’s so complicated in your life? Do you want to talk about it?”

I say nothing. The way his sexy jaw tightens and his brow furrows when he thinks I’m considering it is sexy. Still, I remain where I stand before.

I want nothing from him.

He caresses my palm with his thumb like it belongs there. As I realize we’re still holding hands, my cheeks flush with heat. I expect him to call me out, but instead, he smiles and lets go of my hand so we can eat the deliciousness in front of us. I’m not the girl who picks at her food, even in front of someone, so when I inhale two slices of the pie and gulp down half of the raspberry iced tea in my own glass, Jake looks at me with amazement. I like the silence between us; I’m able to relax with a large, protective cushion beneath me.

“More iced tea?” the waiter asks, but I wave him off and feel the flush on my face again.

“The check, please.” Jake locks his eyes on me. That’s something I find odd about him; I’ve noticed he won’t look anyone in the eye but me. Not even Caitlyn…each time they squared off, he still didn’t look her directly in the eye.

“Ready?” He takes my hand into his and pulls me out of the chair, making it a point to slide his arm around my waist and squeeze as he leads me back to the car. His massive pride wraps me in a cocoon, and everyone feels it when we pass them by.

Instead of opening my door and helping me inside of the car, he spins me to face him. Jake towers over me, his cinnamon breath dangerously close. I allow it to take over my body and make me weak. His body slowly pushes me against the side of the car, and he lowers his full mouth to my ear to whisper, “I want to take you somewhere else…will you go with me?” His bottom lip brushes my skin, and I’m about to explode all over him.

Jake pushes back the hair falling around my collarbone and grazes his lips across the bare skin, sending my spine into a frenzy. I shiver where I stand. I’m frozen underneath him, tucked into a blanket of immobility; it feels so good that I don’t want him to stop. His chestnut eyes are glowing when he looks into mine; he’s so messed up and lost that he might be even worse off than I am.

That still doesn’t mean you have to feel sorry for him.

“Please come with me?” He kisses the tip of my nose gently, melting whatever defense I have left.

“You’re…intense.” I blow out a gentle breeze of air and watch his curly hair move from the wind. My entire body vibrates underneath his; he’s still pinning me against the car, and I wonder what passersby might think about us. “That was intense.”

The fullness of his bottom lip is tucked in as he gently nips at it with his teeth. I see something dark poking out from the collar of his sweater, so I raise my hand slowly and pull the fabric down, seeing the black lines of a tattoo underneath my fingers.

“Well, well…” I return the fabric to his neck. “…tattooed and bossy. It looks like you might be too much of a bad boy for me, Jake Redding.”

He growls. “Again with the assumptions about my character and intentions.” His thumb finds my bottom lip and slides across it. The roughness of his skin excites me. “Are you sure you want to go with me now that you think that?”

I want to wrap myself around you and never leave your damn side.

“I’m not scared of you.” I duck out from his grasp. The moment’s broken as he opens the door and helps me inside. We ride in calm silence back toward Silver Lake; I see the things around us vanish, and we pull into a dark, empty parking lot. “Okay, I’m scared a little now.” I fake a smile and try to tuck my fear at the back of my mind.

He laughs and pulls me out of the car, placing my body in front of his. Kissing my forehead, his body lowers in front me slowly. I feel his grip around my leg, taking off my shoes and socks and leaving me barefoot and confused. Both pairs of our shoes litter the front seat, and he takes my hand, pulling me behind him through the cool sand of the beach.

“We won’t be bothered here. I know who owns this beach.” He grabs a few blankets from a small building we pass on the way to the water. He places them on the sand, and I know he wants me to sit down next to him, but now I actually am afraid.

I don’t want to fall for him.

“What are we doing here?” I sit a full arm’s length from his grip. He opens his arms wide and leans his head back, breathing in the crisp September air, and it makes me smile. I feel his release, letting go of everything and just…being. I envy him too, because the more I see the happiness grow on his face, the more I become jealous that all of my problems are piled too high on my shoulders and it’s impossible to escape.

Not remembering an entire life can do that to a person.

“Tell me what you’re running from.” His deep voice vibrates my eardrums. He pulls my body close to his, with no warning or permission. “And I’ll tell you what I’m running toward.”

I don’t want him to know.

Keep it together, Olivia.

“I’m different.” I might as well start crying again and give him a better show of just how much of a mess I really am—maybe that will finally scare him off. “I mean, I can’t remember anything.”

Jake nods; he’s actually listening. “Like you have a short memory? That’s not so bad. There are some things in my life I wish I could forget.”

My head finds my hands, and I cross my legs, tucking them underneath my chin in automatic defense. “No, I was in a car accident over a year ago, and I have amnesia. I had a pretty bad head injury.”

“How do you know that?”

“My family told me when I woke up in the hospital.”

“And you can’t remember anything from before the accident?”

Embarrassed, my face flushes. “Nope, nothing before I woke up in the hospital. I don’t even remember the accident.”

His long arms pick me body up and place me against his warm chest; he cradles me like when he picked me up from the wet lawn. His heartbeat is directly under my ear, and it quickens as he holds me. “Don’t ever worry about telling me your problems again, do you understand?”

I sniffle. “We barely know each other.”

“Knowing someone for days or decades doesn’t make them care about you any less.”

I notice the tremble in his voice, and it takes a few minutes for things to warm back up between us. Since we’ve moved to California, I haven’t made it a point to get close to anyone. Being with Jake is exciting and addicting, two things that are dangerous to mix.

The sun completely disappears, and the moonlight covers the sand around us. I let him nuzzle my body back into his because I need the comfort. His heart beats so fast that it pounds against my ear; I feel it reaching out of his chest.

“How many tattoos do you have?” I sleepily ask, and I feel him smile into my hair.

“A few. Would you like to see them?”

I yawn again and can’t find the strength to move my head from his chest. “Are they in a decent place?”

“Most of them.” He laughs, and I move with his chest like a wave in the ocean. “Would you rather see the ones that aren’t first?”

I groan into his blue sweater. “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes right now.”

“Look,” he says, rolling up the left sleeve of his sweater. “They’re tasteful, I promise.”

I lift my head and look at the skin on his arm. Several different designs cover his flesh on top of the hardness of the muscle he’s purposely flexing. The one that catches my eye is a large tree on his forearm—broken and barren.

“What’s this about?” I run my fingers over the ink, and I feel his body shake from my touch.

“You really wanna know?” His eyes fill with sadness as he looks from me to the tree. I nod and lean some of my weight back into him to calm him. His other arm slides around me and I hear him blow out a sigh. “It’s a tree that sits on my property. It’s dead now, but someone once made me promise never to have it cut down.” I yawn and snuggle into his hands; it’s hard to keep my eyes open and listen. “The tree got termites and I couldn’t save it, so I got this so she would always have that tree in some way because she loved it, and I loved her.” He’s talking about a woman, someone he seems to still love deeply. “These tattoos that I have, they’re like…pieces of me.” He frowns, and I want to reach out to touch his face to erase his internal sense of destruction.

“Caitlyn did say you’re the mysterious Redding boy.”

“She doesn’t know the first thing about me.”

The snap of his voice tells me I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Why don’t you like talking about her?”

His tongue grazes over his bottom lip. “I’d rather talk about you.”

He puts his body next to mine and pulls me onto his chest, his heartbeat racing faster this time. I allow myself to lie with him as long as nothing gets out of hand, but the waves call me to sleep before I can worry about anything else in the small part of the world we live in.

Falling asleep on a beach with a man I hardly know.

That’s the Olivia I’ve grown to be.

Regardless of who I think I used to be.

Chapter Six

The tree

What’s that amazing smell?

Chocolate. Maple. Bacon. Coffee.

My teeth sink into the inner meat of my cheek. There’s nothing more I love about the man downstairs making Christmas breakfast than the way he does things like this for me. I honestly don’t know how I got so lucky; fate has always been on our side, I guess.

The tantalizing ribbons of explosive flavors fill the bedroom. He’s lit the fireplace too; the room is toasty and invites me back to sleep before the snaps of bacon wake me back up.

Jake knows this is my favorite day of the year.

I smile into the comforter, keeping my love for him to myself. He gets me, inside and out—he just gets me. Anyone else would’ve frowned at the number of gifts I’ve stuffed under the Christmas tree—but not Jake. He ran out at the last minute, drove twenty miles, just to make sure I had enough wrapping paper for everything that littered the living room floor.

His heavy footsteps trudge up the stairs. I close my eyes quickly and let the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee excite me. His weight moves the mattress as he sits down at my thighs, rubbing his hand up the curve of my ass.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers.

“Merry Christmas to you, boyfriend.”

Stretching, I wrap my fingers around the fabric of his t-shirt and pull him down to meet my lips. He tastes like cinnamon, and it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. Jake smiles against my lips and slides his arm underneath me, pulling me from the comforter and onto his lap facing him.

“Just like I like you, awake and straddling me.”

“Is that so?”

A growl rumbles in his throat. “And screaming my name.”

My skin is on fire. His fingers grip the flesh of my ass with one hand; the other hand brushes hair from my collarbone before pressing his hot lips against me. In seconds, he’s ripped off his t-shirt and returned his lips to my flesh; he trails them up the side of my neck and stops behind my ear.

“Run away with me.”

His fingers behind me are only inches from pushing the fabric of my panties aside. His hot lips part mine, and his tongue runs along the top of mine.

“And go where?”

“I don’t care, let’s just fucking go.”

His hands run up my back; he pulls the tank top over my head and throws it on the floor next to the bed. My bare C-cups bounce with their newfound freedom; his reddened lips find the soft flesh in between them, suctioning the skin into them. The way Jake handles me—the real way he handles me—keeps me needing the release.

“Baby, I'll go anywhere you want. Let’s just go and never come back.”

My fingers grip his copper blonde hair, tugging it back as he moans. His fingers move closer to the edge of my panties.

“We've talked about this. You'd miss it here.”

“I can learn to live with it.”

“This is our home; I don’t want to leave. We belong here…together.”

The instant I press my lips against the stubble of his neck, his body shivers. His fingers push the fabric aside and press into the wetness that’s been waiting for him. He moves his fingers around in circles against the swollen peak of my clitoris.

Jake is motivated by sound and touch; the deeper my moans become, the faster his fingers work. His teeth gently close around my left nipple when it becomes easier to access after I tip my head back and explode all over his hand.

The silk of his boxers rubs against my wrist as my arm snakes behind me and opens the front flap. The familiar warm flesh that greets me is hard to wrap my fingers around the entire way I pull it from its cage. I have to lean sideways to grab a condom from the bedside table, and the sight of the silver package excites him even more. Jake’s breathing quickens every second that ticks by and I’ve got a hold on him; when he can’t take much more, he grips my sides to lift me up.

“I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved before.” His chestnut eyes burn into mine. “I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

My thighs prepare themselves as he wraps his arms around me, pounding his hard flesh in between my legs. Wrapping my legs around him for stability, our moans intertwine and we become one. He grips the roundness of my ass and bucks me up and down until my eyes roll to the back of my head. My toes start to curl as he swiftly turns me around and releases me onto the bed.

Leaning my body back up, I kiss his flat stomach and trail my lips up and down his v-shape. Each time my lips meet his flesh, he shivers and lets out a small moan.

“You make my fucking head explode.”

The giggle I let escape my lips sets him off. Jake pushes me on my back and spreads my legs as far as he can before pushing his hard dick back where it belongs. The sweat that drips from his body sizzles against my hot skin; it takes a few minutes for everything to come back into view and my heart to slow down to a normal pace again.

Collapsing next to me, Jake kisses my bare shoulder and laughs. “You’ve won again. We’re staying here.”

“I’ll always win. You love me too much to let me loose.”

Nuzzling against my neck, he smiles. “You’re right about that.”

Snow blows against the bay window. He hesitates to let me leave the bed; I wrap a blanket around my body and crawl into the window seat. “It’s snowing. My tree won’t survive the winter.”

My favorite maple tree—that once stood proud, vibrant, and tall in the backyard—was one of the main reasons I asked Jake to buy this house. I would imagine children playing around it, chasing each other and laughing until they gasp for air.

Now…it sits broken and barren.

Jake comes to me, sliding his body next to mine. “I know you love that tree.”

“Are you sure it can’t be saved?”

The bigleaf maple’s naked branches weep to be saved.

“I’m sure, baby. I’ve asked six professionals who all say the same thing.”

Accepting his answer for the ninth time he’s told me, I let a tear fall down my cheek. “I know you think it’s silly…you think it’s just a tree.”

Jake smiles wide as he brings his thumb to my cheek and wipes away the hot tears. Letting me melt into him, his arms wrap around me for comfort.

“I know what it means to you.”

“Promise me you’ll never have it cut down.”

Jake kisses my head and wraps his legs around mine.

“I promise.”

Chapter Seven

Run

My eyes flick open, and the waves softly crash in front of my body.

What the hell was that?

Clearly, the dream I had was some sort of adaptation of my version of what sleeping with Jake would be like. I’m sore from the way I slept and the cold morning air is nipping my skin where the blanket isn’t covering me. I close my eyes because I’m still tired; I don’t want to wake up yet and face whatever’s going to come after this. Especially having a dream that isn’t mine—it can’t be mine. There is no way I could remember Jake’s tattoo, let alone some tree in some random backyard. The dream I had must have been because it was the last thing he said to me before I fell asleep.

It has to be.

My left arm swings around my body, searching for more blanket, but all I find is another equally as cold being behind me. His arms tangle around me and he softly breathes in the scent of my hair from behind. I open one eye, trying not to move and wake Jake up, noticing that it’s now daylight. Birds chirp around us cheerfully—mocking me as I twist my face in horror at the thought of what I’ve done to myself. I focus on the extreme need to untangle myself from his tight embrace and run.

Run. Run. Run.

This isn’t me; I don’t fall asleep on random beaches with random guys. I scoff and mock them from afar while I sit in the corner and try to figure myself out. I don’t need this drama, but here I am—putting myself right in the middle of something I shouldn’t be in.

“Good morning, Bug,” Jake says into my mess of brown hair, burying his nose deeper into it. “It’s freezing out here. Are you cold?”

I pretend to still be asleep because I don’t know what else to do. I feel him slowly brush my hair from my face and his eyes burn into my skin, making sure I’m not awake. He picks my body up from the blanket we lie on, carrying me gently to the car and putting me in the back seat. I wait a few minutes for him to get into the car and drive away, careful on the turns so he doesn’t wake me.

Do I let him know I’m awake?

What’s he going to do when he gets me home?

His phone rings, and I don’t open my eyes to interrupt a chance to eavesdrop on his call. “Yes?” His voice is tired and quiet; it takes a lot of concentration to hear what he’s saying.

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“I know what time it is.”

“I said I would be there soon.”

“I have to do something first, but it won’t take long.”

“I’m at the beach. Can you meet me at my hotel?”

“I know how far it is from Seattle.”

“Yes, I’m with her.”

“You can’t possibly understand.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, you too.”

He clicks the phone off, and his gaze lights my skin on fire again; I feel him looking at me through the rearview mirror, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. It isn’t until the car comes to a stop, and he opens the back door before he hovers over me, picking me up again.

Is he going to dump me on my doorstep?

My eyes snap open immediately. “Put me down.” He nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears my voice. He doesn’t do what I ask, so I wiggle my body to make him lose his grip and let me fall to the ground with a loud thud on the pavement. I make a soft grunt and rub the hip bone that’s broken my fall.

Anything is better than being left on a doorstep.

Thrown out like trash.

“What the hell?” Jake growls. I wiggle free from his grasp again, nearly smashing my face against the brick walkway leading to the front doorstep that he stands on. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jake’s fingers shake a little and run through his hair as his eyes examine my body to make sure I’m not hurt.

I’m hurt, but not physically.

“I have to get inside.” My shrill voice makes the air colder around us. “Thanks for bringing me home and thanks for dinner.” I know he’s confused; there isn’t anything I can do about that right now. I don’t know who he was talking to on the phone, but it sure doesn’t sound like he’s single enough to be falling asleep with me on a beach.

“Olivia, talk to me.” His voice isn’t enough to make me turn around. I told him I’m not scared of him and I meant it; although, I might be afraid I’ll fall into his bad boy, covered in tattoos, sexy grin and cinnamon and whiskey trap, only to be left in the cold alone.

Not today, Jake Redding.

The mysterious Redding boy.

He grabs my arm and turns me around to face him, anger and hurt in his glassy brown eyes. “Help me out here. What’s going on?” His full lips quiver; it’s hard to tell if he’s just angry because I’m denying him what he wants or if he’s scared he’ll lose me when I walk through that front door.

He never had you, Olivia, remember that.

“I have to go, Jake, so thanks for dinner and the whole,” my hands find the space between us; I separate the thick air that sticks between our chests, parting it like dark smoke, “listening thing.”

“Don’t run from me.”

I turn my body around, quick and annoyed. It’s a little amusing—since he towers over me—but I stand my ground and clench my jaw the same way he does. “I’m not running. I’m saying goodbye. Have a good day.” I blink a few times, watching his face redden and the fire in his eyes burn brighter. “I need you to just get into your car and go home, Jake.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell happened between last night and now. How did we get to this?” His voice is layered with agitation and fear. Quickly, my head spins with bits and pieces of Jake flushing through my mind. I’m seconds away from telling Jake about my dream when I see the living room curtains open and then close again even faster. My dad opens the front door and steps outside, noticing the verbal attack stances we have.

“Everything okay out here, Liv?”

“It’s fine. I’ll be in soon.” I know that even when he goes back inside, he’s still watching us. Jake rubs his chin and lets out a long gust of air, and the sadness creeps back into his eyes. “Help me understand what’s going on here. Please.”

“I was awake for your phone call in the car. I’m not interested in being the other woman.” My teeth grind together, sending a pain up my jaw that makes my vision a little blurry. “I warned you, Jake. I told you I’m a damn mess. I’m not looking for anything but the memories I’m missing, and you charmed your way in there. I knew this would happen.”

He hovers over me. “You knew what would happen?”

For the first time in months, my head starts to pound with searing pain behind my eyeballs like so many times before. The stress I’m putting myself through is bringing the headaches back again—with a vengeance.

“This.” I smack his chest lightly. It pushes him back a few steps for some safe distance. “I have a hard time trusting people. I’m not intentionally pretending to be someone I’m not, but it’s really confusing when someone comes into my life and keeps more secrets from you.”

Jake keeps his sadness tucked into his heart, but he lets just enough of it seep toward me to make me feel even worse. “That was my mother on the phone.” His voice is fragile; I’ve succeeded in hurting his feelings. “I’m late for a meeting with her and our family lawyer. That’s why she’s so upset.”

I’m going to vomit.

“Please…don’t run from me,” he whispers into the breeze. The air catches my ears, tickling them as his words slide down into my chest. “I don’t know what else to say other than, just…don’t run from me.”

“I’m not running from you. I need to focus on myself.”

He’s only inches from me now, pulling me into him. Jake buries himself in my hair and squeezes my body tight.

Cinnamon.

“You have to say the words.” My throat closes, and I can’t breathe. “Say it, Olivia.”

This is so weirdly soothing that it freaks me out. Part of me wants to wrap my arms around his neck and take him inside to heal his invisible wounds, but the other part of me—the sane part—knows that’s beyond normal and not a healthy thought to even entertain.

I need to find out the truth about my accident.

I can’t have distractions.

“I want you to go, Jake.” I say the words and watch his face crumple with a thousand deaths. “This isn’t a goodbye. I just want some rest, okay?” I sigh, upset with myself that I have singlehandedly messed up someone’s day. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.” He kisses my cheek and walks back to the car, slowly pulling back onto the road. I wave at him before closing the front door behind me and blowing out all of the air I’ve been holding in.

“You sure you’re okay, Liv?” my dad asks when I take in another deep breath to replace what I just lost. “What was all that about? Did he say something to you? What did he tell you? Where’ve you been all night?”

I wave him off, but I make sure he’s aware that I’m annoyed with his obvious dislike for Jake Redding. “Nothing, just drama. You know I don’t do drama.” He chuckles, and his gaze returns to the television show he’s watching. He pretends horribly that he’s even still interested in it as I walk upstairs to my bedroom. I collapse onto my bed, still in my work clothes, and I swear I still smell Jake’s spicy cinnamon breath.

I really want him.

I really, really want him.

And that’s really, really not okay.

Something feels unlocked inside of me when I’m near him—like I’m level on the ground, both feet planted, and I’m literally not afraid of anything getting in my way.

I don’t have to work again until tomorrow morning, so I feel safe enough to curl into the blankets and try to sleep away what just happened.

The tree. The ceiling is the only thing I can stare at in the darkness above me, but all I see is that tree, illuminated in my mind like a glowing rope of turquoise glitter.

Jake. I manage to surprise him in ways that I didn’t even know I could, and he’s just so…relentless.

I have to close my eyes and sleep Jake away.

It’s going to take more than one night to forget about Jake Redding.

Chapter Eight

Mother

Jake

I need to punch something.

No, I need to kill something.

It tears up my insides to know how badly she’s hurting. I want to murder the next hard surface my fist can slam into.

The Mercedes screeches to a stop in my hotel’s circle drive. I let out the air I’ve been holding in since I walked away from her. She still frustrates me more than anyone. Still, she’s twenty-three and figuring herself out, and here I am, twenty-five and chasing someone who doesn’t even fucking remember me.

Oh, but I have my mother.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Jacob,” my mother scolds me as I enter my hotel suite. My name rolls from her tongue like a snake’s hiss, and I have to loosen the collar of my wrinkled shirt.

“It’s a half-hour drive from Silver Lake.”

“Yes, I’m aware. We were already near here on business, so you’re lucky we could meet you here instead of Seattle.”

She nods toward Neal Franklin, our family attorney, so he can start his boring presentation. He’s been trying to solve my mother’s money issues for three months. I notice her glance over at my choice of clothing and shake her head in disapproval quietly. The sooner Neal starts, the sooner I can bail and go back to Olivia. It’s still so fucking weird to call her that. My heart is tugging me away from reality; it’s crazy how much a person can make you fall in love with them—twice. I can’t stop thinking about her and the way she blushes when I touch her or the goosebumps it gives her when my breath tickles her skin.

Her smooth, pale skin.

Her long, silky milk chocolate hair.

Her round, wide brown eyes.

The attitude she gives me still turns me on.

Olivia. Olivia. Olivia. Olivia.

I want her so bad it’s killing me inside.

She has to remember something.

I’ve looked for her for over a year; she was being kept hidden from me so close but so far away.

Why are they letting me see her now?

Why are they lying to her?

She knows she’s not who they say she is.

I don’t care. She belongs with me…I have to make her see that somehow.

“Jacob? Are you listening?” My mother glares at me. “It’s not an appealing trait to gaze off in space chasing dreams that aren’t real anymore.”

I’m cursing her in my mind for speaking about Olivia like that. “I’m here. Go ahead, Neal.”

Neal looks at me wearily but continues, despite the dryness of his voice. “So basically, you’re the only one with a trust fund left, Jake. You’ve hardly touched it since you turned twenty-one.” His cough is dry and gross as I picture clouds of germs filling the air around me. “If we were to liquidate that, your mother won’t be totally out of debt, but she’ll be close enough not to lose the house.”

“So sell the house.” I snort. “Sell the cars. Sell the vacation houses.” I wave my arms around in the air.

She nervously laughs. “I thought you were okay with this. Need I remind you of how I got into this mess in the first place?”

“I’m fine, Mother. Go on.”

Neal blabs more about interest rates and loan repayments; when he stands up to shake my mother’s hand, I know it’s finally over. It’ll only be a few minutes before I can race to the car and drive back into Silver Lake, hoping she’ll want to see me even after she made it clear that she needs space.

You’re gonna fucking run her off if you don’t back the fuck off.

“Okay, so I’ll run some numbers and get back with you, Mary-Anne. Jacob, it’s always a pleasure to see you, son.”

My mother goes into the kitchenette to take our cups and saucers to the sink while I show Neal to the door. I hope to put myself on the same side of it as he is when he leaves.

“How much will I have left?” I ask in a low voice; Neal knows I wasn’t listening in the meeting. “Out of my trust fund, how much?”

Neal looks sick. “Nothing, Jacob, you will have virtually nothing. All you’ll have is the revenue from your businesses. Even though that’s substantial, it’s nothing compared to what you have access to now.”

I want to grab Olivia so badly right now and hold her tight to make my pain go away. “So between you and me, what do you think is in my best interest?”

My mother clinks dishes around in the kitchen, so Neal knows that we’re safe to speak freely. “As your family lawyer, I say do it so your mother doesn’t have to sell everything and be the laughingstock of Seattle.” His eyeglasses fall down a little on his nose. “But as your friend, I say don’t. This isn’t your problem, Jake. You should sever your ties now and just live your own life free from this.”

“You know I can’t leave her behind. I spent an entire year searching for her. She was in fucking California this whole time.” My lips stick together like glue at the thought of leaving Olivia behind.

“I don’t know, but do you want your mother to drag you down with her? She had millions of dollars at her disposal and chose to invest in some crazy places. No matter who convinced them or who coerced them into signing, your mother knew what she was getting into.” His eyes lock with mine; he’s scared for me. “I think you should walk away. That’s what I would do if I were you.”

“Walk away?” I look around for anyone lurking. “I love her. I can’t leave her behind.”

Neal sighs and pats me on the shoulder. “Then take her with you, kid. I’m sorry to say, though, you don’t belong in Seattle anymore.” He’s right; I can’t give my mother everything I have to get her out of debt. I need that money to start a new life in a new place.

With Olivia.

I’m still not used to calling her that.

“What did Neal say?” my mother says behind me, and I turn to face her. I know she can see it in my eyes that I’m having second thoughts.

“I’m not going to do it, Mother. I can’t give you everything I own to help you with your mistakes. You’re going to have to crawl out of this one on your own.”

She isn’t surprised. “Jacob, you have forgotten that it was your advice that led me to investing so much money with Michael Cervase. Now you are telling me you won’t help clean up the mess you created? I’m leaving—we are done here. If you won’t help your family, we don’t require anything else from you, like always.”

I think about Olivia.

I need to see her.

She fixes me every single time this happens.

She knows what to do; she knows how to love me.

At least…she used to.

“We are done now, Jacob. Don’t come back to Seattle.”

“Goodbye, Mother.”

The air is getting colder each day September grows older, but I don’t mind; I like the nip of cold air against my skin. It helps me remember that I’m alive as my feet pound on the pavement of the parking lot and I throw myself back into the driver’s seat of the car.

Olivia.

Answer the phone, Olivia.

“Jake.” Her voice is sleepy. “I thought I told you I would call you?”

“I need to see you.” I clench my jaw. “Now.”

Olivia yawns into the phone, and I smile, thinking about her hair falling around her pink, blushing cheeks. “Demanding as always.”

“Please, Olivia.”

“You just left a few hours ago. I need room to breathe.”

“I know I’m smothering you.” Desperation drips from my tongue and falls in my lap; I’m a few short words away from crying.

“Oh, Jake—”

I cut her short; I feel like I’m losing her again. “I need you, Olivia.” I know she can feel the darkness in my voice, because it’s suffocating me just by opening my mouth. She’s always been that person for me, the one that always steers me in the right direction. I’ve been so lost without her that I can’t tell which way is up anymore. The anger inside of me rises, and I’m about to lose control. I’ve been trying my best to manage my rage, and when I saw Olivia for the very first time, I felt like my chains had broken free and I could finally just…be.

Be free.

Be careless.

Be myself.

“Are you okay?” I hear her shuffle around in bed. I imagine her tangled up in the sheets; I never thought I could be jealous of a bed before. “Did something happen?”

I want to tell her anything she wants to know.

But I don’t want her to run again.

I need her to trust me first.

“I just…I need you.”

A few long seconds pass, but I won’t give up. She’s never going to see me as anything but what she wants to see: a guy that’s going to break her heart with his demands and his bad boy ways…and sad tattoos and memories that I can’t share with her until I talk to the people lying to her alone.

“Come over.”

That’s all it takes for me to hang up the phone and hit the gas pedal.

All I can think about is grabbing her and never letting her go.

She isn’t going to be apart from me again.

Chapter Nine

Addicted

Olivia

“I just really needed to see you—don’t start yelling at me,” Jake growls as soon as I open the door and let him inside the house after he called. His frustration pins me against the wall and holds me there; the two of us have some unspoken, terribly wonderful moment between us. “I wasn’t imagining things at the beach last night. You were mine, and it felt real.”

Well, come on in and make yourself at home in my heart, then.

I swallow without making a weird noise as he stares me down. His eyes are bright, and it’s hard to keep his gaze without blinding myself. But I do it anyway—I keep my brows furrowed the same as his so he can see that I won’t be giving into whatever he’s trying to sell me: whatever words he’s going to try and sneak in to put me under his spell.

“We met two days ago—”

“Please don’t act like there wasn’t something there last night. Don’t do that to me,” he pleads and raises his right arm onto the wall, resting it near my head. He never breaks eye contact with me as his shadow towers over my body. “Please, Olivia.”

“You're scary.” I nod toward the living room where my dad is still watching television and no doubt eavesdropping in on our heated conversation. “Let’s go upstairs, okay?” I run my finger along the stubble on his jawline before I even realize what I’m doing. I instantly know I shouldn’t have touched him like that. He’s just so overbearing that touching him sometimes dominates the corners of my mind.

You don’t even know him! You met him two days ago! You don't have time for this! Don't you want to find your memories?

I swat my thoughts away and push him into my bedroom, shutting the door behind us. I feel his warm hands on my shoulders, twirling my body around to face him before the door even clicks all the way closed.

“I can’t let you say no to me. There are reasons I can’t let you go. You just have to trust me.” He lowers his gaze to my hands, picking them up and pulling me closer.

“I don’t know anything about you!” I whisper angrily.

He takes my face into his hands, kissing the tip of my nose. “You want to know something about me? I am so completely fucking addicted to you and everything about you.” He laughs at my hands, now swatting him away from me. “I can’t think of anyplace I would rather be than right here, watching you get so irritated over nothing.”

“And you. Don’t forget my irritation toward you.”

“Insult me all you want, Olivia. I know the truth.”

I finally pull a pair of clean jeans from the basket and wonder if I should just go ahead and pull off my sweats to change or wait until he leaves. “And what is the truth, Jake?”

What does he seem to know about me?

Jake scoffs and leans back onto the bed; he has no intention of moving or elaborating on any irritatingly addicting roped piece of information he’s sprinkled on the ground like bread crumbs for me. “I just mean I can see through your tough exterior.”

I see the exhaustion in his eyes; he did sleep on a beach overnight, after all. I do things silently around the room, and each time I sneak a glance over at him, his eyes are drooping lower and lower. Finally, I hear his light snore from across the room. I’m able to pull a blanket over his large body enough to keep him warm. When he slowly breathes out, the light blonde curls float in the wind on top of his head. Suddenly my bedroom door flings open, Caitlyn chatting loudly on her phone as she enters.

I shush her and wave my hands in the air. When she sees Jake sleeping on the bed, her eyes widen, and she hangs up on whoever she’s talking to. “Is that…?”

“Yes.” I glare at her. “Leave him be. He’s tired.”

“From what?” her voice squeaks, and she looks sick. “Did you two…?”

“No, of course not. What do you want?”

“I can’t believe he’s sleeping in your bed.” She frowns and lets out a small snort. “What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything to him. Get out.” I wave her off. “You’re going to wake him.”

She snickers and says, “Yeah, wake the beast.”

I stop in my tracks and look at her, wondering why she would say something like that. “What is your problem with him? Did he break up with you or something? I never did ask the details of your relationship.” My teeth grind together, and her body squirms a little in her stance. “I want to know what you know, Caitlyn.”

“Jake and I never dated.” Her small voice wafts toward me as she sits in the armchair across from the bed. “We just don’t really see eye to eye on a lot of things, that’s all.”

I’ve had enough of the elusive comments from both of them. “Are you talking about a woman? He mentioned something about being in love with someone before. He talked about her when I asked about his tree tattoo.”

This time, she doesn’t try and hide her cringing at the information I’m giving her. I don’t say anything as her eyes dart toward Jake’s still body and narrow angrily at him. “I dated his brother, Noah. That’s how Jake and I know each other, okay? Olivia, really, let’s just leave the Reddings out of any conversation we have from now on.”

“Fine, then let’s talk about me.”

“What about you?”

“I want to know what you’re hiding from me.”

Caitlyn sighs. “Livvie, we’ve all told you over and over: we’re not hiding anything from you. It’s getting really old having someone call you a liar every day.” Her voice is matter-of-fact. “What makes you so sure the dreams you have are real, anyway?”

“I just know, Caitlyn.”

“Stop trying to fill a void with anything you can hold onto.”

I don’t stop her as she stands up and leaves the room, leaving a hollow, deafening sound where she shoved another subliminal message into my brain.

“What was that about?” Jake asks, but his eyes are still closed when I turn to face him.

Now is the time to come clean with him about exactly what’s so different about me. “She thinks what everyone thinks, that’s all.”

“What does everyone think?” He sits up and pats the bed next to me.

I sit down. “That I’m crazy.”

“Why do they think that?”

“If I tell you, you’ll think I’m crazy too.”

Jake laughs loudly. “Olivia, trust me…I won’t think you’re crazy.”

Maybe it’s the light in his eyes or the fact I can’t trust anyone else, but I collect my thoughts and sort them out.

I'm ready to tell him everything.

“I told you about my accident.” He nods, and I continue, “but I didn't tell you everything else. At first, after the accident, I was having blinding headaches and couldn't even get out of bed. Then the dreams started. They were patchy, and not a lot made sense. Actually, still nothing makes sense…”

Jake’s hand finds mine, interlinking our fingers. “Take your time.”

“The dreams I have, they feel real…I don’t know how to explain it. They’re mine from a different lifetime.”

“Like a past life?”

“No, like from before my accident. They're the memories I'm missing.”

Jake tries to process the information without looking at me with pity—the look everyone else gives me. “You think your missing memories are coming back to you in dreams?”

My body tenses when I notice the tone of his voice. “I told you that you’d think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” He moves closer to me and rests his forehead on mine. “Have you talked to your parents about it?”

“They’re the ones who sent me to a therapist twice a week.” I notice the time on the clock beside the bed. “Which I’m going to be late for if I don’t get a move on. My appointment’s in half an hour.”

Jake’s eyes light up. “I’ll drive you since your car is still at work.”

“If you’ll drive me to work in the morning, I can just pick it up then.”

Before I say anything else, he’s jumped up and extracted his car keys from his pocket. Putting my bag over his shoulder, he takes my hand and promptly leads me down the stairs and out into the chilly September air. I have to direct him through the Silver Lake streets to get to Dr. Ross’ office; the smile he’s wearing is the brightest I’ve seen on him yet.

He parks the car and turns it off, ready to settle in and wait.

“You’re staying out here, right?”

Jake takes his hands off the steering wheel. “I don’t want to overstep. Do you need me to come in?”

“No, I’d like to go in alone.” My body relaxes. “That sounds great, actually.”

“I just want to get to know you, Olivia.” Jake runs his thumb along my knuckles. “There’s something about you…I’m addicted to you.”

“So you’ve said.”

I have five minutes before my appointment starts, and I realize that Jake knows all these things about me—or lack of things—and I hardly know anything about him. Putting my dreams and lost memories on hold, I scan my brain for something to latch onto.

“How was the meeting with your mom?”

He frowns. “My mother is broke and wanted me to fix it for her.” I know it might not be any of my business. He looks at me with broken eyes; I can’t help but automatically be on his side. “I won’t help her. She’ll bankrupt me, and where would that leave my future? I have big plans for the future I want.” His full lips curve into a smile while he daydreams about something brilliant. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get to know me, Olivia White.”

I blush. “Oh, my first and last name. You must mean business.”

“Oh, I mean business.” He shakes thoughts from his head onto the blanket in his lap. “I mean serious business when it comes to you.”

“It scares me when you’re so intense like that.” I blush, not thinking before I speak. “We just met, and you’re so…into me. It’s just a little much to get used to, not to mention I have zero business trying to help fix someone when I’m a mess myself.”

Jake places his palms into his lap. “There are things about me that I’m not proud of.”

My chest tightens, and I can feel a panic attack rising in my throat. Jake places his fingers around my knee, and the panic bubbles away until I can breathe freely again.

“Olivia, I would never do anything to hurt you, but you do have to trust me.” The words that trickle from his throat sound so final that it’s hard to argue with them at all. I have a burning feeling crawling down my throat that Jake is right.

How can he be right?

I know he’s completely into me, like he’s found his trifecta of love at first sight: the perfect woman, flirty banter, and instant attraction all wrapped up in one little Olivia White. I bite my lower lip thinking about his rough hands clutching my sides, picking me up and holding me against the wall earlier downstairs. I feel a twinge in the pit of my stomach as I watch his lips move while he speaks; I still feel the electricity they provided against my collarbone and his hot cinnamon breath on my skin.

“Olivia?” Jake’s face is alight with laughter. “Don’t you need to get inside?”

I blink a few times, his raised eyebrows coming into focus. “Oh, yeah. I better go.”

You can use this to your advantage…

Before I leave the car completely, I turn to catch his eyes with mine. “Can you help me find out the truth? It would mean spending more time with me and being the only person I trust.”

“Find the truth about your dreams?”

“I know I’m not who people say I am, Jake. I’m going to prove it.”

He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You know I’ll always do what I can to help you, Olivia—”

“But you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you—”

“Do you believe me?”

Jake takes a long look at me before backing down. “I believe you. If you say the dreams are real, then they’re real.”

“So we have a deal? You’ll help me?” I lean my body farther into the car, keeping my breath in time with his. “This is a one-time only deal, take it or leave it.”

His whisper pushes against my breath. “Deal.”

“So it begins,” I say and take a deep breath, leaning back into my own personal space. “Piecing together my existence.”

Piece by piece.

Brick by brick.

Lie by lie.

Chapter Ten

Lacey

“Welcome to your second session of the week, Olivia.” Dr. Ross pushes his glasses up the bridge of his short, stubby nose. “I’d like to talk more about the dreams you’ve already had in the past next week, if that’s okay.”

The leather sofa squeaks under my weight. Dr. Ross takes my silence as some form of non-verbal agreement, and honestly, it doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure that once I left his office yesterday, he couldn’t wait to call my parents and tell them about the crazy things I said in my session.

“If you’re up to it, I’d like to try a mild form of hypnosis.”

My eyes widen. “You want to hypnotize me?”

“If that’s okay. You’re twenty-three—you don’t need parental permission.”

Taking my phone from my pocket, I quickly send Jake a text asking him to come inside. The receptionist speaks to someone, and Dr. Ross gets up from his seat to see what they’re talking about in the lobby. When he returns, Jake follows him into the room, and I blush.

“What’s wrong?” He sits down next to me.

Dr. Ross sits back down in his chair and crosses his arms. “Who are you, son?”

Jake holds his hand out for the doctor to shake. “Jake Redding.”

“Well, Jake, as I was saying to Olivia before she texted you for comfort.” Jake looks back and forth between me and Dr. Ross. “I wanted to try a new approach to her session today. I’d like to place her in a mild hypnosis, one that she can easily come out from.”

“Will it help her remember anything?”

Dr. Ross nods. “It could put her in a level state where her mind unlocks itself enough, yes. Although, Olivia, you might not be able to speak during the hypnosis, but you can most certainly have visions.”

“Are you sure I should be here?” Jake whispers.

“I want you here. I can’t do that alone. No offense.” I blush at Dr. Ross. “I’d like Jake to stay.”

“I have no issues with that. You’ll get better results the more relaxed you are.”

It takes five minutes to get everyone positioned in the room where it makes the most sense. I lie on the squeaky leather sofa with Jake at my head and Dr. Ross sitting next to me at my knees. He speaks to me, but it sounds like he’s farther and farther away; he counts down from ten, and something makes me feel like I’m floating in mid-air.

Like I’m outside my own body.

“Concentrate on the first thing you can hold onto,” Dr. Ross says. “Focus and choose your memory. See what your mind can unlock for you and the sounds around you.”

The sounds around me.

Dr. Ross talking.

Jake’s heavy breathing.

The clock ticking across the room.

The squeaky leather—

***

She screams.

I hate it when she screams at Daddy like that. I don’t know why she hates us so much; he gives her whatever she wants, and it’s still not enough.

“Let me go!”

A door slams.

“Fucking open the door!”

Daddy hardly ever curses.

“I hate it here! Why couldn’t we just stay in L.A.? You told me our lives would be better here, you fucking liar!”

“Sabine, calm down! I can’t control what people say here, just like I couldn’t control them there. If you don’t want them talking about you, don’t give them shit to fucking talk about!”

Sabine. I always thought Mommy’s name was pretty, just like her. I love her long, dark hair and how she brushes mine before bedtime. That was before we moved here. Before I met the boy across the street and before the yelling started.

“You have a daughter that needs you, Sabine. You can’t just walk away.”

“I never even wanted her! You forced me to have her, Michael!”

Michael is my daddy. He’s tall and strong and plays tea parties with me whenever he’s home. He works a lot, and Mommy leaves a lot, so usually it’s just Miss Claudine and me in this big, empty house.

“You’re right, I did force you to have her. I wasn’t going to let you kill my daughter!”

“I fucking hate you!” Mommy screams, then her voice gets louder. I hide in their closet because it’s the first place I can run to before I’m seen. “Michael, don’t fucking touch me!”

Bang!

***

My eyes snap open, and tears run down my cheeks. Jake strokes my head and looks worriedly down at me, but Dr. Ross starts clicking his timer again and counting down, forcing me to return to my dreams.

***

Soft music plays, and people mull around like zombies in our living room. It was my eleventh birthday yesterday, but no one remembered. Well, no one except the boy across the street. He sent me a birthday card and a bag of Hershey’s Kisses.

Dad shoves his hands into his pockets and talks somberly to a pair of older women. They hug him and pat his shoulder, comforting him.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this sad in my entire life.

I loved Miss Claudine like a mother. She basically was my mother since my real one never acted like it. Dad loved her too—maybe not like he loved my real mother, but he loved her like his family, and that’s exactly what she was.

“Hey.” The boy from across the street leans down and smiles. “Are you okay?”

I can’t speak.

“Can I hold your hand?”

He takes it without consent, but I don’t mind. His brown eyes look like acorns.

“You’re going to get through this,” he says and squeezes my hand. “I’m going to help you.”

“Why?” Tears stream down my face. “You don’t have to.”

The boy across the street takes a tissue from his pocket and wipes the tears from my cheeks. He moves next to me and wraps his arms around me, hugging me close.

“Yes, I do.”

Dad walks to us. “Lacey, come. Miss Claudine’s sister, Natilda, wants to speak to you.” He pulls me up from the seat, but the boy from across the street doesn’t let go of my hand until he has to.

“Will you be here when I get back?”

He smiles before Dad pulls me away completely.

“I’ll never leave you.”

***

“Give her some space to let her come back,” Dr. Ross tells Jake. “Olivia, find the sound of my voice and clear your mind.”

The room comes back into view, and Jake’s more worried than before.

“Your eyes.”

Jake’s eyes widen with fear. “What about them?”

“How do you feel?” Dr. Ross cuts in. “We’re out of time, but I want you to sit as long as you need to get straightened up. Did you have any visions, Olivia?”

I sit up on the leather sofa and put my hands between my legs.

“My name is Lacey.”

Jake coughs into his hand. Dr. Ross scratches a few notes on his notepad and nods like I’m speaking, but I’m not.

“I didn’t get my last name, but my name is Lacey, not Olivia.”

“Okay, what makes you think this?”

Anger bubbles in my throat. “Because a man in my dream called me Lacey.”

“A man? Who was this man?”

“My father. His name is Michael, and my mother’s name is Sabine.”

Jake swallows so hard I hear it. “I think she’s had enough for today, don’t you, Doc?”

Dr. Ross closes his notebook and smiles at me. “You did very well today, Olivia. We’ll pick this up next week at your first session.”

Jake rushes me out of the room before I can demand to talk about this any further.

My name isn’t Olivia.

I’m Lacey.

Chapter Eleven

Mockingbird

The world is a crazy place. It can change the person you are into someone you never thought you would be before you even realize it. Most times, it’s too late to change yourself back. Some moments I look around and think—think hard—about each piece of the puzzle of life that has led me here.

I only really have one piece of myself.

I know I am not truly who people say I am.

“It doesn’t make sense. I Googled the name Olivia White and found nothing. I need to know my real last name so I can find the answers I need.” I let Jake drive me to work the next morning because my car is still parked outside the YMCA. I’m on lifeguard duty today for the morning water aerobics classes, which doesn’t even need a lifeguard at all, really. He yawns, and I can tell that the lack of sleep is really catching up to him. “Don’t you work?” I not-so-subtly ask, wondering what he actually does during a normal day.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll do some work when I drop you off.”

I prod him further. “Doing what, though?”

Jake’s handsome, especially rugged and unshaven like now. I’m not exactly short, but the way he towers over me is exciting; the outline of his defined chest beneath his navy sweater and motorcycle jacket tantalizes me, and I want to run my fingers through his hair.

Stay on task, Olivia.

Lacey.

My stomach drops.

“I own a few small businesses around Seattle.” He wiggles his nose at me. “I actually work for my money, if that’s what you were wondering. I don’t take what isn’t mine.”

I blush because he’s caught me being judgmental without trying.

“Just wondering, that’s all.” I make it a point to quickly change the subject. “Thanks for the ride.” I let myself out of the car as he parks next to mine. In three seconds, his grasp is around my wrist, pulling me back toward him like clockwork.

“There you go, running away again,” he snips at me with a cool voice. The parking lot is loaded with cars, but we’re alone outside. “I thought you were going to stop all that?”

“You believe what you want to believe.” I don’t want to argue with him—there’s nothing to argue about. “Have a good day.”

“Don’t Google yourself.”

“Bye, Jake.”

His lips turn into a thin smile, and he forces himself to take a few steps back. “I’ll text you later,” he grumbles and gets back into the car, peeling out of the lot before I can argue.

“He just keeps surprising me.” I head inside toward the dressing rooms to change. This has been the most challenging few days of my life, with a man that I hardly know but I feel like I’ve known my entire life. Being with Jake is real and easy; I don’t have to choreograph my moves around people I don’t remember at all.

And his eyes look like the boy across the street’s eyes.

Stop it. Don’t go there, Olivia…Wait. Do I call myself Lacey now?

How do I know I’m not really going crazy? I need solid proof that these dreams are real. Hold on. What did Caitlyn say the other day?

It’s not hard to do a simple internet search on someone.

Someone like Jake Redding.

The lifeguard bathing suit is a comfortable one-piece built for modesty. I’m thankful for that since I have trouble seeing my reflection these days, not recognizing the person staring back at me with borrowed eyes and a stolen frown.

I wave at Brant, who’s teaching a group of sixty-something women how to use the water to exercise. I stifle a laugh when he makes a horrible face at me.

“Hello, ladies.” My voice carries across the water. I wave at them, giving Brant a thumbs-up before heading toward my chair in the middle of the walkway next to the pool.

A cool breeze wafts around me, and I think it might be Jake running back to see me—maybe even secretly hope it is. When I don’t smell the cinnamon radiating from him, I frown and turn around to see Sam’s smug face smiling at me. “Well, hey there, babe.” He winks and puffs his chest toward me, a litter of snickering friends several feet away from us.

“Sick.” I gag. “Don’t bother me, Sam. I’m on duty.”

Sam laughs in a high-pitched tone, making sure his friends hear every word he says to me. “Are you serious? What, one of the old ladies is going to slip and need you to rescue her? Come on, Liv. I just want to talk to you.”

I narrow my eyes when the slimy words ooze from his lips. He holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone. I just came to see what the deal is with you and that guy from the party, anyway. I hear he’s bad fucking news.”

The chair is cold when I sit down; my legs shiver more from the way Sam makes me feel than the cold surface beneath my bare legs.

“What do you mean? Hey, come back here!” I yell, and his smile widens when he turns to face me.

“I noticed that he dropped you off. Was that your walk of shame?” Sam’s voice rises back up enough for the group of friends to hear. “You should’ve given me a chance. Should have moved on me while you could, but now you aren’t even on my radar.”

My laugh billows through the hall. “You were never even on my radar. I hardly remember you exist at all sometimes, really.”

“What did you say to me?” he growls and walks back a few steps, realizing that he was about to launch himself at me. Before he does something he’ll regret, clouds shade his eyes and he sneers at me. “I’d be careful who I piss off if I were you. I know a lot of secrets about a lot of people. Your family has deep roots, remember that.” He narrows his eyes in warning before smiling toward his friends and walking out of the hall with them.

“You just met my family!” I holler at his back.

Brant makes his way toward me after getting his students out of the water; his tan chest glistens under the water droplets left on his skin.

“Hey, you okay?” He ducks down so he can see my face. “Screw that guy. He’s a jerk.” He smiles and puts his wet arm around me, leading me back to my chair. “I don’t have another class until eleven—do you want a soda from the machine? My treat.” He sings the last part, and it makes me smile.

“Fine, thanks.” I wave him off, and when he leaves, I’m alone in the pool area.

The silence echoes off the walls, and I close my eyes to think.

What did Sam mean about knowing secrets?

Does he know things about me?

“Here you go.” Brant hands me an orange soda and sits on the concrete next to my feet. He places his now-warm body against my leg like a puppy dog, sipping his grape soda in a few complimentary moments of silence. “I don’t like seeing you sad, Livvie.”

“I told you to stop calling me that. I thought we agreed.”

He shakes his head, and his sunshine-colored hair falls around his forehead. “Nope. You’re stuck with it. Might as well embrace it, Livvie.” It amuses him when I groan and tug my leg away from his arm. “So that guy from the other night, he was pretty…intense, right?” Brant gulps and stares up at me. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Jake and I are just friends.”

He accepts my answer and doesn’t press his luck with any more questions; we sit in silence and make slurping sounds while we drink our sodas. After ten minutes of no conversation, I can tell that he’s bored enough to make up an excuse about checking the locker rooms, and he leaves me alone again.

The water inside the pool is calm and bright blue. It reminds me of a pool from one of my dreams. My eyes widen as I replay a hot summer day inside my head: my small hands and short legs run around a lush, green backyard with someone chasing me, and I scream in delight as they pick me up and twirl me around. When the strong arms put me back on the ground, I look up and expect to see my father staring back at me, but instead, it’s a man I don’t recognize. Behind him sits a long, elegant pool with bright blue water just as calm as the pool in front of me. The memory is so real that I can feel the warm sunshine on my face and the damp, thick grass beneath my bare feet as the man frowns toward the pool and a woman sits on the edge with a tangled mess of brown hair—like mine—and large sunglasses.

***

“Sabine. Your daughter is home from summer camp.”

My mom’s lips are chapped and bright red. Her skin looks rubbery and gray; six weeks ago, before I left for summer camp, she looked healthy and bright. Now, she’s a ghost.

“Hi, Mom.” I wave. “I made something for you.”

She ignores me—her usual—but I dig inside the makeshift craft bag and pull out a headdress made from multi-colored feathers and ribbons. I take two small steps forward and hold it out for her.

“Sabine,” Dad warns her. “Take it.”

Mom’s chapped lips snarl. “You fucking take it. I don’t want that shit.”

She talks about me like I’m not even here.

Dad grips my shoulders and turns me around. For as long as I can remember, he’s done this when she’s hurt me, and this is how he eases my pain. Focusing on his steel gray eyes, the sorrow I feel when I think about my mother hating me fades, and his smile warms my heart.

“Daddy loves you.” He kisses my forehead and takes the headdress from me, putting it on his head and shaking his body comically. “What do you think?”

“You look fucking stupid. Take that damn thing off, Michael.”

He ignores her and dances around the backyard with me. I’ve missed our backyard; the summer camp in Wyoming didn’t have the plush, mossy green grass we have here. I missed Dad, too, and I always miss Miss Claudine when I’m away.

“Where’s Miss Claudine?”

Dad frowns. “Miss Claudine isn’t feeling well, Lacey. We need to give her time to rest.”

Mom laughs loudly. “She has fucking cancer, Michael. Tell her the truth.” She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, making her dark hair fall around her sunken face. “It’s better you know this now and he doesn’t put fantasies in your head, Lacey. Miss Claudine is dying. She’s gonna die. We all die someday. I’ll die, Dad will die…you’ll die.”

Dad sighs and pats my back. “Not for a long time, okay?”

Mom snickers and puts her glasses back on her face. She wobbles when she stands, and I notice she looks like a skeleton with skin draped over it. This is the first time she’s spoken directly to me in months.

“Life isn’t gumdrops and lollipops. Life isn’t fair. Remember that.”

***

“Hey, it’s time for you to go, right?” Brant says. I jolt back into the reality where he’s standing over me, his face twisted in confusion. “I’ve been saying your name for like thirty seconds…are you okay? Do you want me to call your mom or dad to pick you up?”

My head is pounding so hard that there’s two of him.

I fake a small laugh to show him that it isn’t a big deal. “No, of course not. I’m fine. I just need to take a nap, that’s all.” I don’t allow him any time to bother me with more questions before I quickly wave at him and disappear into the locker room to change. I text Jake to meet me at my house as soon as possible. I’m able to get in and out within minutes, long before Brant even has the time to catch up to me. I notice him in my rearview mirror as I pull out of the parking lot; he shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets in defeat.

When I pull into the driveway, Jake is already waiting for me.

“What’s wrong?” The fear in his voice is crystal clear. I clutch my forehead and stumble out of the car; Jake catches me before I hit the hard ground. “Olivia? Talk to me…what’s happening?”

“Headache.”

He breathes in deep and holds it. “What can I do?”

No one is home as he carries me toward my bedroom and gently places me on the bed. His long fingers stroke my hair as his quick heartbeat near my chest helps me concentrate on something other than my throbbing head.

“I have medicine on the dresser. Blue bottle.”

Jake jumps up and retrieves the bottle, putting a white pill in my hand and snatching the bottle of water on the bedside table. The pill goes down easy, and I know it takes ten minutes to start working, so I start singing inside my head like I always do.

“Better?” His fingers run through my hair. “You looked like death, Olivia.”

“It feels like that sometimes.” I crinkle my eyebrows and place my head on his chest. The super-speed rate his heart is pounding feels good against my temple. “I’ve gone blind before when this happens; the doctors all say it’s just part of the head trauma. Eventually they’ll go away.”

“Seeing you like that scared the shit out of me. Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

The medicine starts to kick in, and the headache slowly drifts away. There are so many things I have to do. Tell Jake about Sam. Google Jake’s name. Find out my real last name.

“Jake, I have something to tell you.”

After pulling me down next to him without warning, his broad arms tighten around me, and my ear presses against his heartbeat again, rapidly growing stronger and faster. “You remember Sam Collins, right?” I wait for his skin to grow hot with rage. “He said some things to me at work today that were really odd.”

Jake’s voice is breathy and light when he parts from me and finds my eyes. “Like what?”

“He said he knows secrets about people. He mentioned my family having deep roots.” Jake doesn’t look as worried as I am. “Are they even my family? Maybe I shouldn’t even care.”

His fingers find a few stray ends of my hair. “Of course you should. They are your family, no matter what you find out.”

The way Jake touches me is nice. His rough and warm fingertips slide across my skin like they know every inch of the map of my body. I find myself reaching toward the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it down and looking at the dark marks of memories on his skin. The tree memory rattled me at first, but once it settled in its home inside my mind, there was no going back. Each time I think about it, it feels real, and for the first time in a long time, I have a memory that I can truthfully call my own.

“What’s this one?” I run my fingertip down the edge of a partial tattoo that is being hidden by the upper sleeve of his t-shirt. “Is this a bird?”

He smiles with delight. “That’s a mockingbird.”

I push the fabric of his sleeve up over his right shoulder blade, and his skin shivers as I graze it with my fingertips. The massive mockingbird reveals itself, and my smile widens with its bold presence.

“That’s my favorite bird, the mockingbird,” I whisper, watching the goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin where my breath trails upward.

“It’s fate,” he whispers. His lips find the space where mine are, and he tugs his lower lip into his mouth with his teeth. He finds my chin with his fingers and pulls my face near his. I can faintly smell the cinnamon embedded inside him. “Olivia—”

“I think you need some sleep.” I kiss his forehead quickly and jump from the bed before he can catch me. “I’m going to take a bath—get some rest.” The bedroom door nearly slams behind me, but I don’t care.

There’s a bathtub with my name on it.

Whatever my name really is.

Chapter Twelve

Intruder

Jake’s phone rings, and I hear him answer it all the way from the master bathroom. This is the only bathroom with a large enough tub to stretch out in. My legs feel good soaking in the soapy bubbles around my body.

His voice is muffled; I can’t make out exactly what he’s saying, but his deep voice carries easily. He searches the house for me and gets closer, his words come into focus, and I hear his side of the conversation clearer.

“No, everything’s in my name. Nothing is in her name.”

My body squeaks against the porcelain as I try to lean closer toward the open door to listen better, covering my body with the bubbles in case he finds me and comes barging into the bathroom without notice. We are nowhere near the point of seeing each other naked.

“I said I’m not doing that. No need to bring it up. I’m not leaving her behind. Meet me at my hotel in thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at my hotel?”

He’s in my parents’ bedroom now. His body comes into view, towers in the doorway, and his lips spread into the sexy, wicked grin I’ve come to know him for. I completely forget that I’m in the bathtub—naked. Jake hangs up his phone without saying goodbye and doesn’t wait to be invited inside the bathroom; his boots cross the door frame, and I know that if he doesn’t turn back soon, there’s no telling what will happen. I watch his eyes dim; he’s looking down at me like I’m a wounded gazelle and it’s a hungry lion’s lucky day.

“I have to leave for a little while.” He bends down to my eye level. “There’s a few things I need to take care of. Can I come back later?”

I manage to push some of the bubbles over my chest again, trying to cover as much skin as possible. “You go and take care of your business. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not go anywhere.” His eyes narrow across the bubbles. Jake realizes that this is all I can give him as he kisses my forehead and looks down at the bubbles covering my body. “You know I can still see right through those, right?” He winks, jumping out of my grasp before leaving me alone in the bathroom and letting me drift off.

***

Sunlight.

It’s already daylight?

How long have I been staring at the ceiling? After we ate pizza and unpacked a few boxes with immediate needs in them, Mom and Dad went to bed and Caitlyn left with some people our age that she met when she and Dad got the pizza.

Me? I didn’t bother putting a sheet on the mattress. I didn’t even bother putting my bed together at all. It got cold halfway through the night—when I heard Caitlyn finally stumble in—so I found a blanket in my boxes. After taking the tags and binding from it, I realize it’s brand new and never been used. It doesn’t have that worn feeling, like my body fits perfectly inside of it.

I use it anyway.

The pillow I find is the same way; I’m so exhausted that I don’t even bother caring.

Until now.

Ripping through the boxes, everything I pull from them have price tags on them. Bedding, clothing, toiletries, accessories: they’re all brand new. Why would I have all brand new things? Did I not own anything before my accident?

I have to know why I can’t remember anything.

My eyes close, and I stand in the middle of the mess I’ve made.

I’m so alone.

“Livvie!” Caitlyn screeches. “Are you awake?” She barrels through the bedroom door and frowns at the mess surrounding me. “What the hell happened in here?”

“Nothing is mine.”

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean? Those boxes had your name on it.”

I point to the piles of new things on the floor. “Everything is brand new. Why is everything brand new?”

She doesn’t hesitate to giggle. “Mom and Dad bought us both brand new things before the move. Don’t you remember?”

I hate her when she does this. It’s been eleven days since I met her, and I literally have only been able to stand her for a few short moments of it. Where the hell did she come from? She can’t be my sister; she’s nothing like me.

Is she?

I don’t even know anything about myself.

“Livvie? You okay?”

“Just go away.” I start throwing things back into boxes. When she leaves, I can breathe again. When I started asking questions in the hospital—I only remember two out of eleven of them—no one had any clear answers. They evaded me; nothing made sense to me, and I recognized no one. They told me they’re my parents and my sister, and I have nothing to prove otherwise.

No memories.

Nothing.

It takes a few hours to unpack the room. There’s a lot of yellow in here. Do I like yellow? I gather the tags and take them downstairs to the trash bin in the kitchen. Mom dances with her earbuds in; she’s putting dishes away like a symphony. She notices me and jumps, clutching her chest. “Olivia, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?”

“Just a minute.”

“Is your head feeling okay? Any pain I should know about?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Have you unpacked your room?”

“I just finished.” The tags make a swooshing sound into the trash bin. “I just came down to throw the tags away.”

Mom quickly smiles. “You can help Dad in the living room.”

I can take a hint; she wants to be alone. I find Dad in the living room, and he’s unpacking the television and surround sound.

“Where are all the pictures?”

He looks up and shrugs. “What do you mean?”

“Pictures…family pictures. Where are they?”

“Oh, they’re in a box around here somewhere. Some of our boxes seem to be missing, actually…Hopefully, our pictures aren’t one of them.”

My eyes narrow. He knows I don’t believe him.

“Have you unpacked your room?”

“Yes.”

Dad nods and scratches his head. “You should find Caitlyn and help her. I’m sure she’s taking her sweet time.”

Again with the brush-off.

Brand new things.

No family pictures.

People I can’t remember.

…I’m in trouble.

***

The water starts to cool down about an hour after Jake leaves. The bubbles are nearly gone when someone comes through the front door, slamming things around. The towel I brought with me wraps around my body snugly, just enough for me to race back to my bedroom. I shut and lock the door before being seen. Whoever came inside has now broken a glass of some sort, and a wave of fear rushes over me.

If it were my parents, they wouldn’t be making that much noise. Even though Caitlyn gets bratty most times, she wouldn’t be breaking glass without so much as a girlie squeal. And Jake wouldn’t be downstairs—he would be here with me if he had come back already, so my stomach drops when I go through the suspects and find nothing that would make sense.

Someone is in my house who shouldn’t be here.

Panic sets in my bones, and I run deeper into my bedroom to towel dry so fast I think my skin is going to rub off. As I quickly dress, I notice my phone on the bed where Jake’s body was lying only an hour or so before. Should I call him? I don’t even know if there’s someone really intruding in my house. It could be nothing at all. Now, someone stomps up the stairs with heavy boots and opens doors just to slam them seconds later, making no sign of stopping or slowing down their search of the house.

The doorknob of my bedroom moves, and I let out a small squeak. My phone shakes in my hand, and Jake’s number is the last one to pop up.

“Hey, I’m almost done, okay?” He answers with such charm that it’s hard to remember the terror that could be on the other side of my bedroom door waiting for me.

“S-S-Someone’s in the house,” I whisper, cupping my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound further. “I was in the bathtub, they came in breaking things downstairs, and now they’re upstairs, outside my door. I don’t think it’s my parents or Caitlyn. Can you come back?”

Jake’s breath hitches as I hear him start running. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” His voice is hard and angry. “Call the police and have them get to Olivia’s house right now,” he says to someone before shutting a car door and starting the engine. I hear the tires of his Mercedes burn out against the pavement. “Olivia?”

I say nothing and hang up the phone, hoping that all the noise I just made didn’t trigger the intruder toward me. The doorknob moves again, and this time, I know they’re trying to get into my bedroom.

Trying to get me.

“I know you’re in there—I see your feet from underneath the door, little bird,” a man says from the other side of the door. I look down at my bare feet, wiping the droplets of water from my eyes to see better. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He laughs the most horrible, smoky laugh I’ve ever heard.

I really wish Jake would hurry as the man pounds hard once on the door, turns the knob, and opens the door…slowly. He broke the lock easily, like he knew exactly how to hit the wood to snap the latch. He’s done this before. My eyes widen as I back away toward the wall.

The man steps inside and looks around the room, then his eyes glue on me. “You all alone in here, little bird?” His balding head turns just to make sure someone isn’t waiting to pounce on him, like he’s ready to pounce on me. “Well, well, looks like it’s my lucky day. You are all alone in here.”

“What do you want?” I yell. “I don’t have anything of value in here.”

His feet scrape across the floor; I smell the alcohol on his breath so strongly that it makes me sick to my stomach. “Oh, I beg to differ, honey. You are the highest value item in this whole place.” He walks to me, and I can’t move; I can’t fight back. He takes a chunk of my hair and tugs on it; the sensation isn’t welcoming. “Stand up, girl. I just want what I was promised, and you’re going to help me get it.”

“I highly advise that you let her go.” Jake’s eyes are bloodshot and dark as he looks at the stranger who has a tight grip on my head. “Let her go before I kill you.”

The man laughs but knows that Jake can snap his neck with barely any effort by the looks of the two of them and their physiques. I wish that he would just push me toward Jake and run, but he pulls a knife from his pocket instead and puts it to my throat when he stands me upward against him. “I’ll slice her fucking throat open if you take one step closer, kid.”

Jake growls. He wants to move forward to save me but doesn’t; he can tell that this man is telling the truth. “Give her to me and take what you want from here. We’ll leave, and you’ll never have to see us again.”

The man laughs loudly. “I want my money. The girl’s just insurance to get back what I was promised.”

“W-What were you promised?” The knife presses into my throat. I look at Jake’s sad eyes. He can’t take his eyes off of the man long enough to share my fear until I whimper softly when the knife presses deeper into my thin flesh. He sees that I’m scared; he smiles at me and puts a little ease into my veins, like he’s telling me to relax inside my mind.

The man scoffs and presses the knife so hard into my throat that I feel a trickle of blood dripping down my neck onto my t-shirt. Jake’s body trembles with rage. “I was promised money was hidden in this house. I was also promised no one would be home.”

I feel so dizzy that I’m going to pass out as he pushes the knife harder into my neck, and I can now feel the sting of an open gash. If he pushes any more…

Jake clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Looks like someone lied to you. You’ve got the wrong house. Who told you this information?”

The man says nothing but throws me on the bed with such force that I nearly bounce back up and into his arms again.

“It’s your lucky day, after all,” he snarls, holding the knife toward Jake. “Let me pass.”

Jake snorts; the anger in his body radiates through the room. I want to close my eyes so I don’t see the things he’s going to do to him. I silently wish that he’ll just let the man pass and wrap me in his arms until my parents come home.

“It may be her lucky day, but it isn’t yours.” He lunges at the man. The knife gets lost in the scuffle; I can’t see it anymore to even pick it up to help. I yell Jake’s name loudly; he doesn’t look over as he pins the man on the floor, repeatedly punching his face even when the blood stains his hands and the man becomes unresponsive.

“Jake, stop!” I run over to him, restraining his arm from bringing down another blow. “You’re going to kill him. Please stop.”

The look of horror in his face when he sees the fear I have for him is heartbreaking. “I should kill him for what he’s done to you.” He looks back down at the man. I take his head into my hands and hold him to my chest so he can hear my heartbeat. The blood that trickles down my neck onto my t-shirt makes him bite his bottom lip until it turns white.

“Jake, please,” I beg. “Let him go.”

Finally, Jake does what I ask. The man is bleeding on my carpet with his eyes closed, but I see his torso moving up and down from shallow breathing. Jake stands up and wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, ashamed to look at me.

“I would’ve killed him if you hadn’t stopped me. He was hurting you.” A tear falls from his eye. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that.” I don’t say anything as I cradle my phone in my shaking hands.

“Are you afraid of me?” he whispers.

“No.” I try to find a smile stashed somewhere inside of all of the chaos. “You saved me—again.”

Jake’s lips curve into a smile as the man stirs at his feet. Before either of us realize what’s happening, the silver flash of the knife digs into Jake’s side. He looks at me with sadness as I scream his name and he falls to his knees. The man runs from the room, and I hear yelling at the end of the stairs as someone tells him to get on his knees and put his hands over his head.

“Up here!” I yell so loudly the room shakes. “Someone help us! We’re up here!”

A few men in uniform come running into the room and call for an ambulance, allowing me to put Jake’s head in my lap and stroke his hair. He smiles up at me like nothing is happening around us and we’re alone.

“You just got stabbed and you’re smiling?” I shake my head through the stinging tears in my eyes.

He laughs then coughs, careful not to move too much as the movement agitates the knife still embedded in his abdomen.

The paramedics come into the room, followed by my parents, who look so horrified when they see the blood on my carpet I think they might faint.

“Livvie, what happened? Why is there a man in handcuffs downstairs?” my mother screeches and then runs for me, pulling me into a bear hug. “And why is there blood all over your floor?”

My dad pats Jake on the shoulder once they get him on a gurney. “Hang in there.” He looks at the paramedics and keeps his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Will he be okay?” One of the medics speaks with him about Jake needing small stitches as my head starts to split in two with searing pain again.

The police question us after Jake gets his stitches and refuses a trip to the hospital. We both had the same story, and my parents and Caitlyn heard every word of it. When all the first responders have gone, Mom shuts the front door, and her eyes fall on Dad.

“Who would tell a junkie that we had money stashed here?”

Dad sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a prank?”

Caitlyn snorts. “That’s a messed-up prank.”

Jake chimes in. “Maybe they just had the wrong house. You guys just moved here a year ago, right? Maybe they thought someone else lived here.”

When Jake’s eyes meet my father’s, they nod slightly at each other and then quickly look away in case anyone sees them and whatever message they’re sharing in their minds.

They know each other.

They’re both holding a secret.

A secret that I intend to find out.

Chapter Thirteen

Smack

For three days, Jake has been in my bed. His large body snuggles underneath my pale-yellow comforter; his long legs almost hang over the end when he relaxes.

The first two nights were peaceful. His light snoring was a welcoming sound to me when I crawled into the armchair to pretend to read. For the first time in what seems like forever, I don’t have to worry about his obsessive pull over me. Or even how sometimes he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room—naked and exposed.

“I still don’t see why your boss won’t give you any more time off,” Jake pouts. “I mean, someone close to you was stabbed, and you need to be here for me, right?”

I hold my breath. I thought he was going to say something leading in a different direction, but Jake’s feelings for me aren’t so obvious anymore. Before zipping up my sweatshirt, I shake my head and smile. I remember to grab a band to tie my hair up before I leave. “I told you, Rosemary isn’t exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type. She only let me take the first two days because my mom talked to her.”

“The woman runs a YMCA, for Christ’s sake,” he scoffs. “Isn’t a major job requirement to be warm and fuzzy?”

I have to admit, being Jake’s friend is easy—much easier than I thought it would be. He’s actually funny when he tries to be. He’s also someone that doesn’t like talking during movies…I had to find that one out the hard way.

“Look, Jake…” I sigh and zip up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder in hopes that he’ll take me seriously. “My mom and Caitlyn are here to tend to your every need. Just make sure you text my mom first if you don’t want Caitlyn in bed with you by the time your painkillers kick in.”

“As if I needed that reminder.”

I feel a little guilty that I’m racing off to work when he’s still pinned to bed; I’ve been shut up inside for days, and I need to be alone to Google Jake’s name. “Okay, I’ll tell you what: tonight we can watch whatever movie you want.”

“Whatever I want?” His interest is piqued, and I instantly regret what I’ve just said. “Okay, fine, when do you get off work?”

“Six. I work an early shift today with Brant.” The glare returns, but I smile and wave anyway, rushing out of the room before I’m forced to have the conversation that’s brewing in his mind.

He thinks I won’t come back.

The air is getting colder the closer to October it gets. I welcome the crisp flicks of icy air against my skin. I think about how off-track I’ve gotten—I was supposed to be researching Jake’s name and looking for the truth about my memories. Of course, Jake getting stabbed set me off a little; I make a mental note to start researching at work the moment I get there.

When I slam the car door behind me in the YMCA parking lot, Brant smiles and waves at me from the entrance doors and hurries me inside, out of the cold.

“Well, I don’t think too many people are gonna wanna swim today, do you?” He snickers at his own joke. “I’ll change into my suit anyway.”

“I don’t need to see your abs, Brant.” I let him take my jacket for me. “Why don’t you just close the pool and work out?” He hangs the jacket neatly on the rack near my desk and frowns.

“There’s more to me than just working out, Liv.” His voice is sad and weak. “Is that all you think I’m good for? Someone nice to look at with no brains?”

“Whoa, where is this coming from?” I hold up my hands in defense.

A mischievous smile creeps across his face. “I’m only kidding, Liv. You should’ve seen your face, though. It was pretty good.” I groan and sit in my chair, ignoring him until he finally takes the hint and walks away. I’m not sure if he went to open the pool or not, and I hardly care. On a usual Wednesday, the building is a ghost town. I open the doors and let in the first few early morning studs so they can cram in their workout before going to their day jobs.

I spend half an hour searching Jake’s name and sifting through pictures of his brothers and his mother. I even see a few of him at various events, but not nearly the same as his family. I don’t learn much about him other than exactly what Caitlyn told me before.

I guess she was right about the simple internet search.

After I finish watering the plants in the reception area, the bell for the front door rings.

“Well, hey there, gorgeous. Have I told you that you’re the sexiest of the White daughters? Not that it’s enough for me, but—” Sam’s slimy voice oozes, and I feel the stings of ice in my veins as he gets closer. “—you know, you’re not good enough for me anymore now that you’re fucking that no-name riff raff. You’re tainted goods now, baby.”

Smack.

It isn’t that sentence that makes me turn around and slap him across the face—it’s my newfound courage. Something I didn’t have when my attacker lunged at me. Once my hand follows through with my heart, the sting on my palm is probably nothing compared to the red mark across his formerly smug face. Sam stands in front of me, stunned and gradually getting angry.

“Don’t you ever touch me again,” he snaps, getting close to my face. “Or someone kidnapping you will be the least of your worries.”

“What did you say?”

His laugh is dark and scary. “I’d watch out if I were you, Olivia White. You never know what’s behind the next corner for you.” Before I can ask him what he means, he’s escaping toward the weight rooms, out of eyesight.

Hours pass before I think about Sam again; I figure he must have slipped out the back door because I didn’t see him walk past me again. Then Brant saunters toward the front desk with a pizza in his hands.

“Pepperoni and extra cheese from Sal’s…you know you want some.” He winks and opens the box in front of me on the counter. The steam tickles my nose. “I’ll only share with you if you forgive me for earlier.”

I lick my lips. “Okay, I forgive you.” I snag a slice from the box. The warm, gooey goodness melts in my mouth as Brant and I eat in silence. I watch him pull two bottles of water from the mini-fridge in the lobby, and he hands me one.

“I know sometimes I can come on a little strong with people,” he says after gulping half of the bottle. “I just didn’t grow up with a lot of positivity around me, and I overcompensate by just being…extra.” I don’t know anything about his past, only that he recently graduated and moved from the Midwest somewhere the day after he walked across the stage.

“It’s fine. You just need to learn how to be aware of other people’s emotions.” I smile because he really is just a sad, lonely kid. “I like being your friend, Brant. You’re a good person, you have morals and values, and you’re pretty funny sometimes.”

“I am?” His eyes glow like Christmas lights.

I meet his eyes and give him a look to calm down. “Sometimes. Just be yourself, the best version of yourself that you want to be. Don’t be someone just because another person thinks you should be different, okay?”

“Whoa, Liv.” His voice is a little weak. “That’s pretty deep.”

I take a small, white piece of paper from my desk and hold it in the air for Brant to see. “Fortune cookie, about six months old.” The both of us start laughing hysterically, and I have to close the pizza box so we don’t snort all over the rest of the food. I feel the desk vibrating, and Brant points toward the computer, where my phone is ringing.

“Your boyfriend is calling you.” He stifles his laughter. “I’ll let you get that. Do you want a soda?”

I shake my head and pick up the buzzing phone. “No thanks. I’ll say goodbye before my shift is over.” I wave him off and hit the answer button on the screen. “I haven’t even been gone for five hours and you’re already calling me. What happened?”

Jake’s deep voice is sleepy, and his words are slurring, like he’d taken a painkiller and it’s already starting to take effect. He chuckles, and I hear his body shuffling around in my bed.

“Is it so hard to believe that I miss you already? Can you come back now?” His yawn is loud.

“You know I can’t come home. I get off work in three hours…can you wait for me?”

His deep laugh tickles my insides, and I blush, looking around to make sure no one’s watching me lose my cool. “You know I’ll always wait for you, Bug.”

“Okay, get some sleep.”

“I’m serious. Why don’t you take me seriously?” I wonder if I should hang up and let him fall asleep, hoping that he won’t remember anything when I get back home. I know that’s a long shot, so I bite my bottom lip, listening to his plea for me. “I just wish that sometimes you remembered, you know?”

I suck in air, nearly choking. “Remember what?”

“Nothing. I should sleep now,” he quickly says before clearing his throat. “I’ll see you later, okay? Be careful on your way home.” He hangs up without saying goodbye or anything else remotely close to making me feel better about the elusiveness he just displayed. I always feel like Jake knows something I don’t, like he knows my life better than I do, and that’s scary, not to mention impossible.

Still, I can’t shake what he said for the rest of my shift. The clock slowly ticks the time away because it knows I’m itching to get back to Jake. I decide that I’m going to straightforwardly ask him what he meant by that, even though I know in my heart of hearts that he’s going to evade the question and act like he doesn’t remember.

I just wish that sometimes you remembered.

I wave goodbye to Brant; he stays behind to talk to some of his friends, and the cold air rushes through my bones the moment I step outside. The parking lot is still fairly empty; the after-work crowd hasn’t shown up yet. As I shuffle my feet toward where I parked the car and search my bag for the keys, I don’t see him until it’s too late.

“I bet you think you’re smart, don’t you?” His growl meets me before I see him. “You’re going to pay for humiliating me in there, Liv.” Sam’s eyes are dark and cold—no one’s around for me to yell for help. The anger in his eyes alerts me that I’ll need some. He steps closer, and a wicked smile paints his strained lips. “You don’t have anyone to save you now—where’s your boyfriend when you need him? He’s saved you once from a bad guy, but can he save you twice?” Sam licks his lips, and I want to gag, but I keep my distance.

“What do you want from me, Sam?” I whisper. Fear warps my voice as it leaves my body and circles around him.

He laughs, and it makes me feel gross. “You know what I want from you.”

“You can go to hell if you think you’re getting that from me.” I grit my teeth and plant my feet on the ground firmly. If he thinks that I’m going to let him attack me without a fight, he clearly doesn’t know me like he thinks he does. A stranger in my home is one thing, but for Sam—someone I know and have despised since the day I met—defending myself isn’t going to be the issue here. “You better let me pass, Sam. Let me get into the car and I won’t tell anyone that you’re threatening me.”

He laughs loudly, his eyes darting around the parking lot as if he’s seen movement. “You have quite an imagination, Liv. Come here or you won’t like what happens to you if I have to chase you.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” Brant says, placing his hand in mine from behind. I want to cry; my entire body is shaking so badly that I’m finding it hard to stand and support my weight. “You know, I’ve seen you harassing her for weeks here, and it stops now. I’ve already called the cops, so I guess you have two choices: either you can get into your car and leave her the hell alone, or you can go to jail when I hand over the security videos of each altercation you two have had at her place of employment. My advice? I would run.”

Sam snorts and lunges toward me, trying to push Brant away. They get their arms tangled, and Brant pins him onto the ground with a few quick wrestling moves. Once the police cars zoom into the parking lot, Brant and I talk to them, and they take Sam into custody. He volunteers to take me home, and I realize that once again, I let someone save me.

“Thanks for taking me home, Brant.” My voice is weak. “Jake isn’t going to like what happened. Maybe we should just keep it a secret for now.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Brant’s voice thickens. “I mean, seriously, is he?”

I shake my head, but he doesn’t look over at me. “No, he’s not.”

“Then why do you care what he thinks?”

I don’t answer him, and I think about what I could say without lying to myself the next time someone asks me this question. I can’t explain it to anyone without looking completely insane, but Jake and I just…belong.

“I think you should tell him. Don’t keep secrets,” he says as we pull into the driveway of my parents’ house and the curtains in my bedroom sway with force. “Plus, he’ll wonder where your car is and why I’m dropping you off.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think of that.”

“Hey, can I tell you something?” he asks before I can open the door and escape. He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I just think you should know, you’re a great person too. I mean, you deserve the best, and I just want you to make good choices for yourself, you know?”

I chuckle. “Fortune cookie?”

He sadly shakes his head. “No, I just don’t want you to forget yourself in the process of trying to find someone else.”

I hear Brant’s words ring through my head as I watch him drive away.

I can’t forget myself if I don’t know who I am.

No matter how fun it is to pretend for a little while.

Chapter Fourteen

What if…

I hear Jake’s rapid breathing as I step into the bedroom; he pretends to be asleep, but I heard his feet shuffling around the room on my way up the stairs. After a few minutes, he stretches and yawns, flashing a fake wake-up smile.

“That’s a pretty amazing image to wake up to.” The boyish charm he tucked into his pocket is making its way back. “How was work?”

Brant told me I shouldn’t keep secrets, but I didn’t agree to that. “Uneventful…pretty boring, actually.”

Jake isn’t buying it. “Then why did that kid drop you off? Where’s your car?” His voice strains as I curse Brant under my breath for being right about how Jake would react. “Did your car break down? I knew I should’ve offered you to drive mine.”

I hold my hands up to stop him. “Calm down. Nothing happened.”

“Something happened,” he growls, and his intense eyes lock with mine. “You can’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying.”

“How?” I sigh and sit down next to him on the bed. “Fine, but before I do, you have to promise me two things. First, that you won’t get angry.” His eyebrows raise, and I quickly continue. “Second, after we talk about it, we move on and go back to finding out the truth about me.”

The wheels turn inside his head while he listens to my demands. The angst that he has toward me is like being burned by a match. When he slowly closes his eyes and holds them shut for a few moments, I know he’s silently agreeing with my stipulations.

“Okay, remember Sam? He sort of…attacked me at work today.”

The fire in Jake’s eyes drills into my soul. “Tell me you aren’t serious.”

“He came in this morning and started shooting off his mouth. I lost my cool and slapped him across the face. He was waiting for me after I left work and tried to attack me, but Brant sort of showed up and saved me. I wasn’t in a safe state to drive, so he brought me home in his car.”

The redness of Jake’s face extends to his neck, and his eyeballs become bloodshot the moment when he gets a really good idea about what I’m saying. I half-expect him to blow up with rage, but his hand finds mine instead and squeezes it. His eyes are misty as he tries to hide his gaze from me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, but he doesn’t make eye contact with me as I lift my gaze to find his. “Jake?”

“Are you okay?” The raspiness in his voice makes me squirm a little as he holds my hand tightly in his. I find myself falling into wonder inside my mind. I wonder what he’s like when he’s alone…I wonder what he likes to do with his free time, and I’m still wondering why he wasn’t sleeping before he started staying here.

Before I know it, his full lips find mine, and he presses them together. It takes a few moments before I latch onto his mouth and deepen the kiss he’s started. I should be thinking about the effect this kiss will have on his feelings for me instead of how soft and exciting his lips are against mine. Even his tongue tastes like cinnamon as it ribbons around mine like a symphony, and his hands travel along my jawline and on the small of my back where they rest like they’re home.

Like he knows the road map of my skin.

I let Jake kiss me because it feels good to have someone want you—even if you indulge in their emotions a little too deeply. It isn’t like I find him unappealing; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. I’ve been fantasizing about him since the moment I met him, and to say that the dreams are wild would be a serious understatement.

I slide my hands up his long torso, over his hard chest, and rest my nails softly in the hot skin of his thick neck when his body completely freezes and he pulls his lips from mine in frustration.

“I can’t.” He lowers his head. “I’m sorry.” The lump in my throat swells when he looks back into my eyes. I literally feel his pain through his chest.

“Jake,” I breathe his name, and my fingers find his face. “I thought you wanted this?”

“You have no idea how badly I fucking want this.” He feels his lips with his fingers; they hover over the same spots where I sucked his lips into mine. “I just don’t want you to lose focus on your quest to find the truth. I know how much it means to you.”

From the moment our lips touched, I felt something shift inside of me, and it grows larger and larger like a bubble in my stomach.

“I won’t.” I blink a few times and think hard. “How is it that you know me so well?”

Jake sighs and brushes hair out of my eyes. “What if I told you that I’ve known you for most of your life?” The words that he paints in front of my eyes captivate me enough to follow along with his illusion. “What if I told you this isn’t the first time we’ve kissed or held hands…would you believe it?”

“I’ve dreamed about you.”

His eyebrows rise. “Like a memory dream?”

“It was right after you told me about the tree tattoo, on the beach. I dreamed about a conversation we had about the tree after we…”

Jake’s eyes flash with curiosity. “After we…what? Had sex?”

“Something like that. I know it’s from talking about it before I fell asleep. That memory wasn’t mine…that memory wasn’t real.”

The frustration leaks from Jake’s skin and wraps me inside of it. It’s suffocating me as steam rises from his ears. “What if it was real? Why are you so adamant that your other dream memories are yours but not this one?” His voice booms through the bedroom as his breath hitches. “Why isn’t being who you are now enough?”

“Because I don’t feel like myself!” I scream at him, and my eyes widen. “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time…I don’t expect you to understand.” I lower my voice and fold my hands in my lap. I want the fight to be over with. “It’s like I’m a stranger in my own skin, with shattered memories of someone else’s life.”

The air between us is tense now. He raises his hand and places it on my shoulder in comfort. “I think you need to rest,” he says in his deep voice, laying my body down next to his without any protest from me. “You need to talk to your parents,” he breathes into my hair. “Make a list of everything you want to know and ask them.”

I let myself get lost in his warmth as sleep finds me and carries me off somewhere far, far away where no one else can hurt me.

***

“Happy Birthday, Lacey.” Dad’s gray eyes flicker from the dancing flame of the solitary candle shoved into the chocolate cupcake in front of him. “How does it feel to be fifteen?”

“The same as fourteen, I guess. I still can’t drive or do anything sixteen-year-olds can do.”

Dad laughs and pats my leg. “Don’t wish your life away, sweetheart.” The accent Dad carries with him has lessened since we moved to Seattle, but it’s still there. It’s British—just like Miss Claudine’s—but I’ve never asked him where he’s from, and he’s never given me any indication he wants me to know. Our relationship is strictly on a need-to-know basis, and he’s been pretty hands off the last few years.

Since Mom disappeared.

I think that maybe he’s starting to hate me like she did, too.

“I’m headed out for a business dinner.” He notices my eyes when I look at the clock on the wall that reads nine p.m. “Can you take care of yourself and not open the door for any strangers?”

“I’m fifteen, Dad.”

He rummages through his wallet and slaps a few hundreds on the counter. “I might be gone a few days, so make sure you get to school on time and don’t step out of line. I’ll have someone drop in and check on you. If you need more, use your credit cards.”

“Where are you going? I thought it was a business dinner?”

I hate when he does this. Every time he walks out the door like this, it makes me afraid that he’ll never come back.

“It’s a business dinner in Boston, honey. I’ll be back in a few days.”

He smiles, and then he’s gone.

I’m alone in this big house again.

A loud knock at the door scares me out of my skin. Just after Dad told me not to open the door to strangers, then a stranger comes to the door. I grab my phone and, despite my heart nearly beating from my chest, walk to the front door.

Looking through the side window first, my heart jumps.

“What are you doing here?” I open the door and see his face. He hasn’t spoken to me since I tried to bring him home, but I made sure he knew I was still thinking about him—even if he wasn’t thinking about me.

Jake looks like he’s been crying; his eyes are swollen and red. “I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

His long arms stretch across the open doorframe. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I’m sorry for being someone you couldn’t count on. I promised I’d always be here for you, and I haven’t been, Lacey.” He steps into the door, and the same feelings he’s given me all these years come rushing back tenfold. “It’s you.”

I back away. “What’s me?”

“You’re my soulmate. You’re the one for me.”

I reach out and feel Jake’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Jake takes my hand and pulls me close to him. The heat radiating from his skin wraps around me; his left hand slides around my waist while his right hand caresses the side of my cheek. My stomach is doing summersaults as Jake eases his lips down to mine and presses them together.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted.

He presses his forehead against mine. “You are everything to me, and I’m sorry it took so long to see it. I’m sorry for who I’ve been this past year, and I’m sorry I haven’t been the person you need me to be.”

“Jake, there’s no way my dad will let me be with you.”

He scoffs. “We don’t need his permission.”

“I’m only fifteen—we do need his permission.”

“It’s not like he’s ever here. I just saw him come back and leave you alone again.” He kisses me again, and it sends electric sparks down my spine. “You shouldn’t have to be alone.”

“I’m used to it.”

“That’s the problem.” He brushes hair from my face. With his left hand, he pulls my right hand to his chest and presses it against his heart. “Can you feel that?”

“Your heartbeat?”

He nods. “You’ve made me see that I don’t have to be that fucked-up person anymore, Bug. You’re my best friend and the only person that truly matters to me. I’ll wait for you, if that’s what it takes. I know we’re young, but…”

He tips my chin up to look deep into my eyes.

“I’m in love with you, Lacey Bug. I always have been…and I always will be.”

Chapter Fifteen

Secrets

Jake

Fuck!

Where the fuck is she?

She told me she’d go home with him and then sneak out so we could run away like I’ve been trying to get her to do for two years. This time it’s different; this time he wants her to change her name and identity so she can break ties with the fucked-up shit he’s done and live a better life. He expects her to go live with a sister she’s never met, her husband, and their daughter—all of whom she’s never…fucking…met.

Not to mention he wants her to leave me.

I’m not letting that fucking happen.

“I love you, Jake Redding,” she said to me before he pulled her out of my house. “When I come back, we’ll run far, far away.” She pressed her forehead against mine and forced back her tears. “It’s you, Jake. It’s always been you.”

That was hours ago.

My phone rings, but it’s not her. “Noah, fuck off. I don’t have time—”

“—Lacey’s been in an accident. Your plan didn’t work. They cut his brake lines, and she was still in the car, Jake.”

I sit in an armchair in the living room before I collapse. “What the fuck are you talking about? She was supposed to call them after he left! They weren’t supposed to cut his fucking brake lines!”

“I don’t know what happened—maybe they changed their minds. She’s hurt pretty bad…you better get to Seattle Grace.”

Noah knows everything about everyone. If something happens in this city, he’s the first person to go to for any details, so I know he’s not lying. I hang up on him and grab my motorcycle helmet, shove it on my head, and squeal the tires of the Harley out of the garage.

All I can fucking think about is her.

I wasn’t on board with her plan, but she’d had enough of her father trying to control her.

And I fucking love her. I’ll do anything for her.

I hardly care about parking in an actual spot when I get to the hospital; the emergency room is full of people bleeding, peeing, and throwing up everywhere. The overweight nurse behind the check-in counter ignores me when I rush up and knock on the counter three times.

“I’m here to see Lacey Cervase.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you family?”

“Yes.”

The woman checks the book in front of her. “Name?”

“Jake Redding.”

“You’re not on the list.”

Fuck this.

I look down at her book through the window and see Lacey’s name in room ER12. Not giving a fuck who’ll try to stop me, I reach in and push the button to open the ER doors and let myself in. The nurse screams from her box, but I’m already searching for Lacey’s room.

ER12.

Two police officers are standing outside, guarding her door.

“My girlfriend is in there—I need to see her.” I start to open the door in between them.

“Only family allowed, kid.” The officer on the left pushes my hand away. “And you’re not.”

“Lacey!” I start calling for her. “Lacey! Get the fuck off of me!”

The door opens, and a man comes out—a man I’ve never seen before. As the door slowly closes—and I see the love of my life wrapped in tubes and machines on a hospital bed—it never even occurs to me that it’ll be the last time I see her.

***

There’s nothing I’ll be able to say to her when she finds out that I’m a fucking liar like everyone else in her life. For now, she’s sleeps on my chest and dreams about a life that she thinks is better than what she’s got now, but she doesn’t remember the bad parts.

I make sure that I don’t move my body so she won’t wake up. This is the first time she’s allowed me to get this close to her. It’s been hell getting her to even trust me and not make the mistake of falling for someone else. She’s mine, and no one else gets to know what her love feels like if I can help it.

Kissing her, though, that’s something I’ve been aching for since the day I saw her on that lawn…for the first time in over a year. She was taken from me once, whisked off into the dark night without a single goodbye. They wouldn’t let me see her in the hospital, and when I arrived home to an empty house, there was a note from Caitlyn, apologizing for deceiving me but saying it was for the best that they take the love of my life where she could live a better life…with people she didn’t even know.

Even though I expected that Olivia wouldn’t remember me, it still hurts to know she has no memories of me or the time we’ve shared. I don’t know what else to do but make her fall in love with me all over again.

I wonder what she’ll think of me when her memories do come back and she knows all the stupid shit I’ve done. It’ll devastate her if she finds out the truth of how shit really happened.

I can’t even be there for her like I need to be.

Like I want to be.

There used to be a time when she dreamed about vacations and college…getting the perfect gifts at Christmas for the people she loved. She loved herself, too. Now she’s a shell of that person, and I don’t know how to help her.

But I know that I want her back so badly that it’s getting too hard to keep the secret I have been sworn to keep. I think about Sam and how much pain he’ll be in once I call one of my brothers to take care of him. She doesn’t need to know about that. I think about Tyler, Noah, and Michael, my brothers who all love Olivia too. Once they knew they had to keep this secret, the three of them couldn’t handle it and scattered around the country like cockroaches and hid from her.

But I stayed.

I stayed because I love her.

Because I’m in love with her.

I’ve always belonged to her.

My phone lights up on the table beside me, and I manage to stretch my body to reach it, unplugging it from the charger and seeing Noah’s name flash across the screen. All three of my brothers have been trying to reach me since I told my mother she couldn’t have my money, no doubt in hopes that they can change my mind and talk me into it. I hesitate to even answer it, afraid of waking her, but as she opens her mouth and snores softly, I smile and hit the button to greet him.

“Noah.” I hear his loud sigh. “If you’re calling me to talk about money, save your breath.”

“Hello to you, too,” he says, out of breath. “I’m not calling about money, brother.”

“That’s good to hear.” Olivia shifts her weight next to me; her eyelashes touch her cheek as she drifts back into her dream. She’s always been amazingly beautiful. “Then why are you calling?”

For a few moments—a short few moments—I ease my mind into thinking that my brothers aren’t on my mother’s side and it isn’t four against one. “I just wanted to check on you. I heard a rumor that you’ve found Lacey.”

I look down at her and smile. “It’s not a rumor if it’s true. Her name is Olivia now.”

“Jake, you know that’s dangerous, right?” he warns me. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s a lost cause with her?”

“As many times as it takes.” I tighten my grip around her body. “I’m not going to give up on her, Noah. Don’t act like you want me to fucking leave her behind.”

I hear him suck in air through his teeth. “You’re not giving up on her if you move on, Jake. She doesn’t remember you.”

“Her memories are starting to come back, Noah.”

“How?”

I hesitate; I don’t like telling anyone more information than they need to know. “They come back to her as dreams. She knows something isn’t right. She’s not stupid.”

Noah sighs. “You can’t hold onto her forever—” I only listen to the beginning of his warning before I hang up on him.

He’s wrong.

I can hold onto her forever.

And I will hold onto her forever.

Chapter Sixteen

Burning daylight

Olivia

Jake snoozes next to me, unaware that I’ve woken up in a panic.

He’s the boy across the street.

Why hasn’t Jake told me any of this?

It’s not a coincidence that Jake found me…

He’s been looking for me all this time.

I do my best not to wake him as my body eases out from his grip. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I leave the room. I’ve always felt like a stranger in my own body, and now that I’ve had that dream—amongst all the other crazy things that have happened lately—I know I am a stranger in my own body.

Lacey Bug.

My brain whirls as I take each step downstairs one by one, hoping that maybe they’ll melt away and underneath it all will be my true life without any doubts. The crazy part is…I look like my family. I look like my mother; Caitlyn and I have the same bone structure and body type, but my dad…I don’t look like him at all.

“Hey, Livvie,” Mom greets me as I enter the living room. She’s sitting on the sofa reading a magazine, so I sit across from her and stare. She notices the ghoulish look on my face and frowns. “Are you okay? What did Jake do?”

My frown deepens. “Why does everyone automatically blame Jake?”

“For reasons you don’t understand.” She matches my annoyance. “You don’t know him—”

I stand up and ball my fists at my sides. “That’s what people keep telling me, but guess what? I do know him. I know that everything he says about loving me is true.”

“Oh, Olivia, you’re being swayed by puppy love—”

“Stop it! I know Jake and I were together before the accident! I know he lived across the street from me and my real family!”

She puts the magazine down on the table in front of her; as she sips her coffee, her eyes darken when they meet mine. “Just because you dreamed something doesn’t mean that’s how it really was. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop accusing all of us for holding you hostage in a life you don’t want.”

“I just want the lies to stop. I want to know who I am.”

“You’re Olivia White!” Her voice rises. “Anyone else is dead and gone.”

“So you admit it? You admit to lying to me all this time? Who the fuck am I? Who are you people? Jake knows you, so you must be someone he trusts, so why don’t you trust him?”

“Excuse me.” A tear falls down her cheek, and she gracefully leaves the room. I wait for someone to run in and scold me, but the only person that comes to find me is Jake.

He looks sleepy, his eyelids still drooping from lack of sound sleep, but he smiles at me anyway. “I felt you leave the bed…you okay?” He sits next to me and relaxes into my space. His long, heavy arm slides across my shoulder blades, and he pulls me into his chest. I wasn’t lying to Mom; Jake’s love for me is real. I feel it wrap around me like feathers every second of every day. I’ve never felt a love like this before, and it’s annoying that my family is trying to take it away again.

“I remember you, Jake.” His eyes widen. “I know who you are to me. You were in my dreams last night, and I remember.”

“You remember what, exactly?”

My lips find his, and he welcomes me by squeezing my body against him. His arms wrap around my waist, and even if I wanted to, there’s no escaping the long-awaited release Jake needs from me right now. His nose nuzzles in my mess of hair; I feel him smile against my ear. “This is fucking amazing. Are you sure you remember?”

Our eyes lock together. “Not everything, but enough. Jake…” My thumb caresses his jawline. “I know I’m not Olivia White. I want to know everything…and I want to know it now.”

He wastes no time. “I’ll tell you everything, baby. Everything. I can’t fucking believe this is happening right now.” Tears roll down his cheeks, and he pulls me into him again. “Come with me; come home with me to Seattle.”

“For how long?”

“Just a few days. When do you work again?”

“Saturday.”

Jake sniffles and wipes the tears off his cheeks. “That’s three days. We’ll have plenty of alone time for me to explain everything. I have pictures, videos, and letters at my house in Seattle. Please come with me, Olivia.”

“Isn’t it an eight-hour drive from here? What about your hotel room?”

He lifts my body with ease and tugs me up with him. “If we leave now, we’ll make it there by nightfall. I’ve already checked out of the hotel, and my things are in the car.”

Jake leads me back upstairs so we can dress and get warm clothes on to venture out in the chill of the early October air. I dress myself, but I feel like an emotionless robot—there’s nothing in this entire house that is familiar to me right now. So many questions are swirling around my mind; it’s hard to catch one and keep it long enough to remember what I want to know.

The smile on his face says it all: Jake is happy.

No one comes into the room to stop us, but Caitlyn does meet us at the bottom of the stairs once we’re dressed and ready to leave.

“Don’t go.” Her big olive-green eyes burn into mine. “Liv, don’t go.”

I snap my arm back from her grasp. “I told you I’d find out the truth.”

“I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t go with Jake.”

“I’m going, Caitlyn.” I shake my head, disappointment dripping from my skin. “Of all people, I expected at least you to tell me the truth.”

“I told you what I was allowed to tell you!” Her small hand wraps around my wrist. “Jake surely isn’t telling you everything. Please, can you just stay and let me explain the real story?”

Jake slides into our space, his eyes dark and scary. “Ready?” He looks at Caitlyn and frowns. “Do you have something to say to me?” She backs off a little and hangs her head. The bleached strands of her hair pale her nearly translucent skin even more. I’ve never seen her like this; she’s not normally one to back down from an argument…especially if she feels that she’s right.

“Don’t run away with her.” Caitlyn’s voice is flat and strained. “Don’t take her where we can’t find her.”

“We’re just going to my place for some peace and quiet.” His assurance blankets me now, too. “I promise I won’t take her from you.”

They’re talking about me like I’m not even here.

“Jake—” She starts to lift her gaze to meet his, but again she backs down.

He tugs on my arm, and I go with him, briefly looking back at her longing gaze where I stood seconds before. I always thought I annoyed her, but she actually cares about me. It takes a while to process this new feeling.

Even though we drive straight through to Seattle, I drift off halfway into our trip and have the worst dream I’ve had yet thanks to the impending headache starting to rattle my brain.

***

“I’m not going with you.” Dad’s face reddens as I stand my ground. “I don’t care what you’ve done or what you’ve pulled Jake into. I’m not going. I shouldn’t have to pay for your mistakes.”

Dad’s eyes are sad and dull. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes. Unfortunately, you do, Lacey. You’re not safe here—not with me in prison.”

“I’ll empty my trust fund and pay them off to leave me alone.”

The woman trying to take me with Dad clears her throat. She looks like me and Dad; she shares the same gray eyes we both have. “Who the fuck are you?” I snap at her.

“My name is Carrie Stevenson. I’m your sister.”

“I don’t have a sister.” I look at Dad, shaking my head. “This is what you’ve come up with to get me to leave with you? Paying someone to be my fake sister?”

“She’s my daughter, just the same as you.”

Jake struggles in the corner; he’s being held back by two large men who look like professional bodyguards. “Don’t fucking listen to them, Lacey! Don’t let them take you!”

Dad sighs and pats my shoulder. “Honey, you’re not safe here, not anymore. I promise that when you are safe, you can come straight back here…straight back to Jake.”

I know he’s lying.

“I’m not stupid!” Spit flies from my lips. “I know you better than that. You want to control me. You want me to do what you want for your benefit. I’m not doing that anymore, Dad! I’m not a pawn in your little game…I’m not Mom!”

Dad shakes his head. “Lacey, don’t make me force you. The more time you spend here with Jake, the more danger he’s in.”

He’s not playing fair.

My chest heaves up and down. “What do you mean?”

Jake grunts and struggles more in the men’s arms. “Lacey, baby…please, don’t listen to them.”

“The people that are after me, they could be after Jake. The longer you stay here with him, the quicker they’ll be able to find him.”

“Jake wasn’t part of this!”

Carrie crosses her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t matter. He still worked for Michael. Lacey, please, we’re trying to keep you safe. We’re trying to keep everyone safe.”

My eyes meet Jake’s, and I know what he wants me to do.

He wants me to run.

“I want a minute alone with Jake, then I’ll leave with you.”

Dad, Carrie, and the two bodyguards look at each other, and Dad nods to each of them. “Three minutes. Say your goodbye and meet us outside.”

Jake gravitates to me once everyone leaves the house. He frantically pushes my hair back from my face and kisses my cheeks where the tears have stained them.

“Don’t fucking do this, Lacey. Don’t get yourself into this. You run, okay? Run your fucking heart out. Call Noah. He’ll find you.”

I sob into his chest. “I can’t leave you…I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stick to our escape plan.”

He shushes me and strokes my head. “That plan is ages old. It won’t work.”

“I have to try.” I press my lips against his like it’s the last time I’ll ever touch him again. “Meet me here in an hour; I’ll be back for you. Then…we’ll both run. Together.”

***

When Jake wakes me, I see the sign for Seattle before the dizziness subsides and I’m able to force words from my mouth.

“Why would Caitlyn think you’d take me where no one could find me?”

His body tenses. “I don’t know. She’s crazy.”

“Don’t stop being the only person I trust.”

A lightbulb ignites in his head. “I ran away with you once, a few years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

He rubs the bridge of his nose; he’s frustrated that I’m so persistent for information. “Your dad never wanted us to be together. So we ran away together and made it as far as Salem, and they found us.”

“How could they have any say?” I bite the inside of my cheek.

He looks embarrassed. “You were only fifteen, and I was seventeen. They tried to charge me with some pretty fucked-up shit.”

We pull into a long circle drive at the last house of the street we’re on, and time stops.

I know this house.

It doesn’t look cold and overbearing like the rest of the houses in the neighborhood; the three-story, red-brick structure invites me inside. My eyes scan each floor as if I can see into the windows, imagining what each room feels like to be in.

“Do you remember this place?” His voice is almost a whisper as he parks the car only a few feet from the red front door. I keep scanning the property; my head spins from how much I think I remember. “Come on.” He sighs and unbuckles his seat belt. “We’re burning daylight. I want to get the house warm enough to stay the night…I haven’t slept here in months, so everything’s turned off.”

I let him untuck me from my seat once he walks around to my side and opens the door. It’s crazy how much I know about everything and nothing at the same time. I smell cinnamon as he unlocks the front door, and I step into the huge foyer right behind him. His large hand finds mine and tugs me inside fully so he can close the door behind us.

To the left of the foyer is a large sitting room with white couches and a red-bricked fireplace; a golden-colored cage sits around the opening so the embers don’t trail out when it’s used. A fluffy white rug is spread out in front of it, and I imagine Jake and me lying in front of a roaring fire underneath several blankets. It makes me smile.

Through the sitting room, an archway takes you into the biggest kitchen I’ve ever seen. Dark oak cabinets line the wall behind the shiny, metallic stove, and the island in front of it matches the marble countertop perfectly. Everything looks so clean and untouched, like no one’s lived here for a long time. Jake said he hasn’t slept here in months…but it looks more like the house is brand new and was never touched at all.

My heart skips a few beats.

“Jake…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know you don’t remember.”

My eyes lower to the ground. “I want to remember.” My gaze fixes on the window behind him. It leads to a lush, green backyard with a garden near the patio. I can’t see the end of the property from inside the kitchen, but I can see the daylight fading fast along the tree line.

Jake’s right. We’re burning daylight.

“I just want answers. I want to feel free.”

He takes my hand from behind. “You’re free here.”

“Every memory I have with you in it, you’re the one person that always finds me in the darkness.”

Jake smiles. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” He pinches my chin with his thumb and index finger. “There’s nothing I won’t do for you. Even bringing you back here so you can finally know the truth. I’m sorry I lied to you about who I was…I just didn’t know how to help you.”

Jake’s right. He did lie to me, just like everyone else.

“I think it’s a little different, maybe.” My own voice surprises me. “Even though you had the same reason for lying—protecting me—you never acted like the dreams I had were crazy. You believed me and let me find my way.”

He chuckles. “Even with so many unanswered questions and half-truths, you’re still so optimistic about the outcome. Your light is one of the reasons I’m so fucking in love with you, Olivia.”

Jake breathes my name, and I pull him with me as I gravitate to the fizzling sunlight in the backyard. The cool breeze tickles my skin, but I don’t care. The door opens with such ease that it’s hard not to want to drift into the fresh air. I feel like I’m walking into another world—and I would’ve believed it if his hand wasn’t clutched tightly into mine, guiding me through my haze.

I breathe the October air deep into my lungs. “I’m ready to know it all now.”

“Let’s go inside; I’ll tell you everything.”

I reluctantly follow him back inside and into the living room so he can stall a little to figure out what to say to me. “I want to know it all. From the beginning. No more lies.”

The war that wages in his head when he decides what to do makes me sad, but it’s not enough to stop me from putting my foot down. He starts a fire in the fireplace, trying to stall long enough to start the story off right.

“Okay, I’m ready.” His voice trails around his body as he faces away from me. “You have to promise me one thing, Olivia. Just one thing.”

My body feels like lead. “What is it?”

When he turns to finally face me, tears stain his cheeks and his chestnut eyes are on fire. He takes his hands from his pockets and falls to his knees—he’s weak, and I can tell this is going to be one hell of a story. He sniffs some of his sadness back into his body before forcing his eyes to meet mine again.

“You have to promise me that you won’t leave me again when you find everything out.”

“Jake—”

The growl that leaves his throat is alarming. “Promise me.”

“I promise I won’t run away screaming. Is that what you want to hear?”

He nods. “When you find out my part in this, you’ll hate me.”

“I won’t hate you.” My lips tense. “Why would I hate you?”

A long pause lingers between us, and neither of us dares to move closer.

“It’s my fault you lost your memories.”

Chapter Seventeen

Daddy issues

I know I’m glaring at him.

I feel the tension of the room suffocating me.

“I told some bad people where your father would be, and they fucked with the car, making it crash. You weren’t wearing your seat belt, and Michael was…you smashed your head against the dashboard. I swear to God, Lacey…I mean, Olivia…I never knew you were in the car. I wouldn’t have told them a damn thing if I knew you’d be there. When I found out what I’d done—”

I hold up my hand for him to stop. This is the first time he’s slipped up and called me Lacey instead of Olivia. “Is that what our plan was?”

“Our plan…what? What do you mean?”

“Our plan, Jake. I dreamed about the last night we saw each other on the way up here. I know we had a plan. Was that the plan?”

Jake swallows and runs his hands down my arms. “The plan was for us to get the fuck out of here before any of this happened, baby. That was the plan. Nothing else matters beyond that.” Inches from me now, his hand snakes around the side of my neck, and he smiles down at me. “You deserve to know the truth, and I want to be the one to give it to you. I know you inside and out, Olivia. I know the pain in your eyes, and I know the empty holes in your heart.”

My eyes narrow. “I didn’t realize I was so hopeless.”

“Not hopeless.” He smirks and runs his thumb along my bottom lip. “What do you want to know first? What haunts you the most? Let me guess. You want to know who your father is.” Jake stands up and slowly moves to the sofa, where he plants me. “Michael Cervase was your father.”

He finds my hand and squeezes it, keeping me grounded so I don’t fly away. “I’m telling you the truth, Bug. Here.” He pulls a few large photo books from the table next to him. “Look through these.” He places the heavy books next to me and then the first one in my lap. I don’t want to open it, but something inside of me is telling me that this is my only hope for knowing for sure.

I open the book.

The first picture makes me slam it right back closed.

“I-I d-d-don’t want to do this,” I stutter. “Jake, I d-d-don’t want t-this.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Everything is up to you, understand?”

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly before opening the book again. The first picture is the gray-haired man from my dreams, and he’s sitting next to me at a fancy restaurant table. Our happy smiles don’t look deceiving, but the pain in my eyes staring back at me makes me feel things deep inside my stomach. Picture after picture, it’s the man and me with happy smiles and love in our hearts.

“This is crazy,” I whisper and turn the next few pages.

“That’s Michael; that’s your dad.”

I wet my lips. “I’ve never seen pictures of myself before the accident.”

“What did they tell you about it when you asked?”

“They always told me boxes were lost in the move to Silver Lake, and all of our pictures were one of the lost ones.”

The last half of the book are pictures of Jake and me doing romantic things together; we both look so happy that it hurts my teeth from it all being so sweet. He watches me closely as I get to the end of the book and close it, my mind straining so hard that it’s giving me a headache. “These pictures are just confusing me more.” I blink away a few tears.

The sofa that I’ve cuddled into is so comfortable that it makes me sleepy. Alongside the warm fire only a few feet from us, the entire day catches up with me. My eyes are droopy with sleep. I feel Jake’s electric presence next to me, and I allow myself to be someone else—somewhere else—for the first time in a long time.

My fingers trace where his dark tattoos are over his sweater.

The dying tree.

The mockingbird.

I don’t even care what my heart is screaming at me.

My mind wants to launch my body on top of his and latch on forever.

Examining his rough fingers as they tangle around mine, there’s a tattoo on him I haven’t seen before. I take his left hand and turn it over a few times in mine; he exhales slowly and kisses the tips of my fingers. “That’s our promise to each other.”

The infinity symbol in black ink wraps around his left ring finger.

As Jake thinks about the meaning behind this tattoo, he smiles, and his eyelashes touch his cheeks. “We were too young to get married—well, I was eighteen and you were still sixteen and too young—so I got this instead. You were against using a fake ID to get one, so you would draw it on your finger with a magic marker whenever it would fade. It was our promise to each other that nothing, not even infinity, would stop us from loving each other.”

I frown at my naked left ring finger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t, so don’t feel bad. Maybe someday you won’t have to draw it on, right?”

The warmth of the fire has won me over into exhaustion. “Hey, do you want to go to sleep?” His velvety smooth voice tickles my ears. “No one has slept in our bed since the day you…”

“Since the day I what?” My ears perk up a little, although sleep is still kicking me in the ass.

His arms are around me, pulling me into his chest while he stands up. “Since the day you left.” There is so much sadness in his voice that it seeps into my heart as he sways with me in his arms. He treads up a large spiral staircase to the second floor in silence. We go through an enormous doorway, into a bedroom that looks like something straight from a designer catalog.

“Home sweet home.” He gently puts me down on the soft, pale green comforter overlapping the king-size bed. “You still have some clothes here if you wanted to change.”

This is so weird.

I feel like I belong here.

“That entire closet is yours, actually.” His laugh thickens as my nerves go crazy. “I haven’t touched anything since you left.”

I breathe in deeply and walk toward the closet door Jake’s talking about. I expect to open the door and see a few items left behind, but instead…it’s a big enough walk-in closet to have a sofa sitting in the middle of the room. My lips turn into a frown as I scan the room and notice nothing that looks familiar to me. It’s frustrating because I know these things belong to me; I feel it.

He notices my sadness, coming up behind me and wrapping his long, hard arms around my torso. “I don’t need you to remember anything, Olivia. It’s okay if you don’t. I love you just the same.”

A tear falls down my cheek. “How can you love someone I used to be? What if I’m not the same person?”

Jake twirls my body around and wraps me in a bear hug; the hardness of his chest is welcoming, and his spicy cinnamon scent caresses my nose. “You’re the same person, I promise. Just a different name.” His lips quiver like they do when he’s said too much. “You’re kind and considerate, you love your family, and you’re…” He looks down with a bashful smirk. “Exciting.”

I chuckle and place my palms on his chest; our gazes dance together long enough to make my insides melt. I see his full lips lower down to mine like it’s in slow motion, and I let him press them together, sending waves of warm pleasure down my body.

“Wait,” I murmur against his lips, “I want to talk about my father. Tell me more.”

He doesn’t act annoyed that I’ve broken our kiss; he’s more excited that I haven’t run away yet. He keeps one arm around me and leans to his left, opens the top drawer of a dark oak chest of drawers, and smiles. “You get changed and I’ll tell you anything you want.”

He kisses my forehead and leaves me to rifle through the closet. It’s more of a room than a closet, and it makes me feel awkward just being in here; it’s like I’m rummaging through someone else’s things and Jake’s cheating on her.

My stomach drops.

“Jake?” I call for him. “Can you come back in here?”

His copper blonde curls emerge into the room almost immediately; the look on his face is half-twisted in terror and excitement. “What’s wrong?”

How can I say this?

“I, uh, well…” I feel the instant flush in my cheeks. “I just want to make sure you’re not seeing anyone.”

He snorts. “Besides you?”

I shrug. “I guess. You’ve never really mentioned it.”

He sits on a bench across from the oak dresser and stares up at me with sadness shadowing his round eyes. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want for the rest of my life. Even if you would’ve never remembered me, I’d still be in love with you.”

Ouch.

“Just checking.” I blush. “But none of this stuff is going to make me any less awkward. It just feels right and wrong in here at the same time. Does that make sense?”

A wicked grin paints his lips. “You can wear my things if it makes you more comfortable.”

I can’t help but to match his smile. Being around Jake is just so easy that it’s hard to believe it’s reality sometimes. A man who’s willing to do anything for me, even lay down his life, apparently; I find that completely sexy and unnerving at the same time.

He’s imperfectly perfect.

“Bug?” His smooth, deep voice cuts through my brain. “Do you want me to leave while you change?” His large hand extends toward me, and in it is a white t-shirt and blue basketball shorts. “The shorts will be a bit big, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. Besides, if you have to take them off during the night, I won’t be upset about it.” I take the clothes from him and don’t bother answering his question, because we both know we’re beyond the shyness stage of our relationship.

My body shakes.

Relationship.

“I want to know more about you, too.” My voice is rough as I peel off my jeans and sweater. Jake’s eyes burn into my flesh as he watches me untangle myself from each article of clothing and slip the white t-shirt over my head. I take down my long, chestnut hair and bite the inside of my lip. “Are you too tired to stay up and talk?”

“No,” he growls instantly. “You need to put on those shorts.”

The air around us settles, and the silence slips away. He leads me back into the bedroom where I make myself at home on the bed—and it’s so comfortable that it’ll be hard not to drift off to sleep. I have questions, and I need answers; I’m not about to let the only chance I may have slip through my fingers.

“Okay…” He’s still larger than me as we both sit in the bed. “I’m not exactly sure how to make you believe that Michael Cervase was your father other than just telling you—once again—to trust me. I can show you all the pictures and videos in the world, but you need to feel it in your heart to believe.”

My feet accidentally slide against his leg. “Maybe let’s just start from the beginning.” I take a deep breath and hold it inside for a few seconds longer than I should. “As far back as you can remember.”

“When I was eleven, I met you for the very first time. You were eight, maybe just turned nine, I don’t really remember that part. It was my eleventh birthday party, and you’d just moved in across the street with your parents. You crashed my birthday party with your nanny, Miss Claudine.”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes when he talks about our past. It’s calming to see the light return to his mind and the happiness return to his heart. He sits down so he can look into my eyes as he tells me a story of our life together. I don’t know what depresses me more: having an intimidatingly gorgeous man sitting a foot away from me or knowing that he holds a special place for me in his heart that I’m scared to death I’ll never quite fill like he wants me to. I let him continue on without interruption; I don’t want anything standing in the way of hearing the story of a lifetime.

“And the other kids were taking over the place, acting crazy and destroying the party decorations. But not you. You sat in the garden by yourself; you didn’t need chaos to feed your emotions, and it drew me to you. Of course, we became best friends, and my brothers all loved you, too. I know it seems textbook or whatever, but you gotta believe me, Olivia…we had the perfect life.”

I sit on my knees and snuggle my body closer to his as he talks. “Then what happened?”

He chuckles. “Puberty happened. I started noticing girls more and stopped hanging out with you as much when I hit middle school. My mother had gone through her second divorce by the time I was fourteen, and your dad pulled you completely away from me after I started going dark. I hated everyone, especially my mother, and I wasn’t in the mood to let anyone tell me what I could or couldn’t do.”

“Sounds like you were a bad boy, Jake.”

“I guess that’s what you’d call it.” His blonde curls find the curve of his forehead as he looks down and blushes. “I started hanging out with really bad people, doing really bad things. I wasn’t myself, and you desperately tried to help me find my way back, but I resented you for it somehow. You were the best thing in my life, and in my mind, I didn’t deserve you so it made me hate you.”

“That seems cruel.”

He nods. “Now that I look back on it, it was. But when I turned seventeen, everything changed. You came over late at night on my birthday and handed me a note.” He leans toward the nightstand and pulls out a folded-up piece of notebook paper from the drawer. His hands shake as he gives me the note; I don’t waste any time tearing into it and reading each line several times over.

Jake,

Happy Birthday!

I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but I just wanted you to know that I’m still here for you. There isn’t anything bad you can do that will make me hate you. I’ll always love the person you are, no matter who that person is.

I see you in there, Jake. I see your light.

Never forget that you’re not alone.

I’ll never leave you.

Love,

Lacey Bug

My eyebrows shake when I read the name carved at the end of the letter. I hand the note back to him, and he carefully folds it and places it back into the drawer before shutting it like it’s a priceless artifact he’s been sanctioned to keep safe from harm.

“That note changed my life, Olivia. It’s like something shifted inside of me, and I knew that no matter where I go or what I do, you belong by my side. You’re my one true love, and no matter how cheesy it seems, it’s true.”

I lower my eyes to my lap. “Then why didn’t we have a happy ending?”

He grits his teeth. “Daddy issues.”

“Daddy issues?”

He nods. “Your father hated me for the person I’d become. He didn’t want me tainting his beautiful, perfect daughter any more than I already had. I tried so hard to show him that I’d changed by getting better grades and staying out of trouble. But he wouldn’t let me see you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you get this from Romeo and Juliet?”

He laughs, and my throat burns with fire. “I know it seems like it, but no. We started sneaking around again when you were eighteen. The more time we spent together, the deeper we fell in love. The more my love grew for you, the more I feared that your father was going to take you away from me. Then he surprised me by offering me a job in exchange for staying out of our way.”

I smile and try so hard to remember what he’s telling me that my head hurts. “That sounds promising. Did you take it?”

He nods. “I was good at it, but he had me shaking people down for money to invest in bogus businesses and such.” Jake notices the glare in my eyes. “He stole people’s money and left them penniless. I was totally blind to the whole thing.”

“My mom always got a sour look on her face when someone asked about her family.”

Jake doesn’t look surprised. “He was never good to her, not one bit. You were always his favorite daughter out of the two.”

“Out of the two?”

A smirk finds his lips. “Paula White is your sister, not your mother. Her real name is Carrie Stevenson.”

The feeling of my jaw hanging way lower than normal doesn’t bother me. I slowly shake my head and try to process everything Jake’s been throwing at me.

My mother is actually my sister.

That dream I had really was true.

I guess it never dawned on me what that would mean for every other member of my family if what Jake’s saying is true.

He finds my hand underneath the comforter and squeezes, sorrow dripping from his eyes. “You’ll need to call her tomorrow morning so she won’t worry.”

My mother.

He means my sister.

A sister I’d never known who took me and tried to save me.

Chapter Eighteen

Three little words

The sunlight tickles my nose before it reaches my cheek. The best part of waking up next to Jake is the warm cocoon he places you in; it’s like a safety net of complete tranquility and comfort. His cinnamon breath reaches my nose, and I inhale him into me as much as I can before he wakes up and my dream shatters back into reality.

Olivia White.

That’s the girl I know now.

But I don’t know how to be anyone else.

Jake’s eyes don’t open, but he reaches for me and pulls me into his bare chest. He tucks me under his strong chin and holds me against him; his heart beats so hard it feels like it’s outside of his warm skin. I snuggle next to him the best I can and wait for what seems like hours.

***

Why can’t I scream? The pain in my head feels like someone’s drilling into my eye sockets with a power drill. The light hurts even worse, but the panic that sits in my chest as people come into view is what’s making my heart weak.

“She’s awake!” a girl with bleached hair says. She’s around my age and dressed like she’s just come home from clubbing. Her mini-skirt rides her thighs, and the crisscrossed, skin-tight navy blouse she’s got on looks like a piece of cellophane around her torso. “Hey.” She waves her long fingernails in front of my face. “Can you hear me?”

“Jessie, get out of her face!” Another woman in the room snaps her fingers. Deep down, I think that…maybe she looks familiar, but everything hurts too much to care. “What’s going to happen to her?”

“Here,” a man says, “take this envelope. Michael has secured new identities for each of you. You’ll be living in Silver Lake, California. There’s a decent-sized suburban home there that isn’t in his name anymore. He gifted it to Miss Claudine’s estate years ago, and her sister has agreed to let you live there as long as you need.”

“Is she in danger?”

He shakes his head and hands a large yellow envelope to her as well. “That question remains unclear. We don’t believe she’s in danger now that Michael is in prison. We don’t have any reason to believe whoever sabotaged the brakes wanted her dead.”

The woman walks slowly to me and smiles down into my open eyes. “Then why are we moving her? The whole point was because she was in danger, and now you’re saying she’s not.”

“There are still people out there Michael has bankrupted and who could very well take matters into their own hands like this person did. You have to understand, this embezzlement runs very, very deep. He owes a lot of money to a lot of people.”

A man comes up next to the woman and hugs her from behind. They look like nice people, the generic kind you find in a picture frame before you buy it. “What about money? We can’t exactly have real jobs.”

“Michael’s made arrangements with Miss Claudine’s estate, and you’ll be taken care of. There’s also Lacey’s trust fund, but that’s frozen until the Feds decide otherwise.”

The bleached-haired girl sighs. “I think we should keep her.”

“She’s not a dog, Jess,” the man scolds her.

“She’s my sister. We have to help her. I tried helping, and look what happened. Maybe without Michael being the puppet behind me, I can do more good than harm to her. What’s our background story?” She opens the envelope like she’s done this before. “The White Family. I’m Paula White, you’re David White…” She turns to the man and smiles. “…and you’re Caitlyn White.”

The girl groans. “Such a lame name.”

“And Lacey is…Olivia White.”

“I like that name better. Can we switch?”

The woman shakes her head and looks at the man, who hugs her. Silently, they have a conversation as the feeling comes back into my skin, and I start to scream in pain; my voice finally finds itself, and it deafens the room.

“My head!” I scream. “Help me, my head!”

A man in a white coat rushes into the room and injects a liquid into the IV, making the pain subside slowly over the course of a few minutes.

“How’s that?” He pats my shoulder. “I need to clear the room to examine her, please.”

“I’ll stay,” the woman speaks up. “She’s my sis—she’s my daughter.”

The man in the white coat nods. “Everyone else, out.”

Before they can leave, there’s a scuffle outside of the doors, and the man who hugs the nice woman opens it and closes it behind him again.

I hear someone screaming. It’s a man’s deep voice…and he’s scared and desperate.

“Lacey! Lacey! Lacey!”

***

“Olivia?” Jake shakes me out of my dream. “Are you okay?”

It feels like there’s a thousand cotton balls shoved into my mouth. I can’t speak—or even begin to explain what the hell I just dreamed. I just want to enjoy waking up next to him.

“Just a dream,” I breathe out slowly. “No big deal.”

He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t say it out loud. “It’s nearly ten already.” His wide yawn makes me smile. “Do you want to call your mom?”

Now it feels weird when he calls her that. “You mean, my sister?”

“I know you’re confused—”

I push myself away from him and plant my feet on the floor. “I’ll call her now.” I trot off to find my phone inside my bag where I left it in the living room. The house is so warm and inviting that every room I shuffle into does something magical to my soul. Jake’s feet slide across the floor behind me as I open a door to the sunroom, and his arms wrap around my waist.

“I’m sorry I upset you.” His lips find the delicate skin beneath my ear. “You should call her when you’re comfortable. I shouldn’t be pushing you to do it.”

“Thank you. What’s this room?”

He clears his throat and slides around me, his hands never leaving the curve of my hips. One arm waves around, and his lips open to flash me a toothy smile. “This is your sunroom.” He chuckles and rubs his jaw. “Your mom had one at the house you grew up in, and when I bought this house, I had it specially designed for you.”

My cheeks flush. “Sounds like I had a pretty cushy life.”

His eyes narrow. “I got out of that business with your father and did something constructive with the money I made. I didn’t need my trust fund because I was smart with the money I earned—don’t discount what I’ve done here.”

I haven’t seen the scary side of Jake in a while, but this is proof that it hasn’t dwindled away. He notices that I’m nervous and takes a step backward, shaking his head.

“I wasn’t discounting what you’ve done.” I glare at him. “What’s with the scary face?”

Jake doesn’t look amused. “I have a problem.” He sighs and lets go of my body to sit down in a leather chair next to us. “When I was younger and into things I shouldn’t have been…I developed a serious anger problem. But you pulled me out of it, Olivia…you saved me.”

Whoa.

That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone.

“Before I make the call, I want you to know that,” I sit down in a chair and look back up at him, “—even though I don’t remember a lot of what you tell me, that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you.”

He kneels down in front of me and runs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Oh, baby, if you only truly remembered how much I fucking love you, then it would help take some of your pain away. I looked for you for an entire year, and you were under my damn nose. I intend on making every day of your life special, Olivia. You can count on that.”

A smile creeps across my lips. “You’re pretty special too, Jake.”

He blushes and looks down at the floor. “I’d hoped when we met again that everything would go back to normal, but I’m happy that it didn’t. I love Lacey Cervase, and I love Olivia White. A name is just a name.”

I snort, pretending to be offended. “Is that right?”

He laughs and kisses my jawline with grace. “That’s right. It’s easy to love you, baby.” His lips find my collarbone, and he nips at the skin as I giggle beneath his weight now pushing me into the chair. What am I doing to myself? Why am I stopping myself from getting what I want for once? Putting aside the sadness of living a lie…I deserve to be happy with someone like Jake. He’s real and genuine and completely into me too.

He finds my eyes, and the hunger reaching for me paralyzes my bones. “Tell me more of the story, Jake.” I find a soothing voice and inject it into words. “We left off with who my real father is, but nothing else.”

He sighs. “I don’t like talking about him, but you deserve more, I agree.”

I raise my eyebrows and wait. Once he realizes that he can’t get out of it, his breath billows from his lungs, and he kneels in front of me, both hands on either side of my thighs.

“Okay, let me think. When you were fifteen, we started seeing each other. Everything was hot like fire, and we were so inseparable that my brothers often teased me about it. I don’t think you remember any of them, do you?”

I shake my head and lower my eyes to my lap in shame.

“Don’t do that.” He tips my chin back up. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You didn’t do this.”

I wipe a tear from my eye. “But you hold guilt because of it.”

“Trust me, baby, if I could take it all back, I would. I would still have you, and everything would be like it was before. Even if I don’t deserve you.”

My arms snake around his neck, and I don’t have to pull him down to kiss me because he’s already halfway there. When our lips meet, everything else melts away. He notices the feeling too, so he pulls away from me, and a sexy grin appears on his lips.

“We’re getting distracted.”

I blush. “I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

He laughs, and the heartiness of it makes my heart feel full. “Never apologize for kissing me…never. I’ll never apologize for wanting you, because I can’t help that I do.”

Jake’s eyes get dark as I squirm in my skin. “Olivia, you are allowed to have your own thoughts.”

“My own thoughts aren’t mine, are they?” I blink a few times to try and suck the tears back into my eyes. “I thought my life was a mess before, and now it’s just an even bigger catastrophe.”

He sighs and pulls me out of the chair, placing his body beneath mine and putting me onto his lap when he sits down where I was moments before. “Let’s just get one thing straight right now, okay? I know it’s hard to trust someone you don’t know and your instincts are screaming at you to run. For all you know, I’m some crazy fucking psychopath feeding you lies to reach my own end game.”

He notices my eyebrows rise. “If at any time this is too much for you or you don’t feel safe around me, you take the set of car keys hanging next to the front door and your car is the garage. You take it and run if you want.”

The lump inside my throat wants to come out and play, but I smash it back down into my chest cavity as fast as I can. I don’t want Jake to see just how naïve I really am—regardless of how much truth is smeared across my damn face. “I have a car here? Like, my beat-up Mazda is in the garage?”

His copper blonde curls shake side to side; the laugh he puts into the air makes me snap my legs together in hopes he doesn’t notice how completely spent I am on him. “No, like your car before that car, I guess. You have the matching Mercedes to mine…only in a deep blue color. It’s been sitting in there since…” His gaze falls to my lap. “Well, you know.”

All I can do is smile like a damn idiot. “Yeah, I know. Maybe I’ll take it for a spin later. Is that okay?”

When our eyes lock together, I want to climb out of the deep fire pit I’ve flung myself into. “Yeah, baby, that’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home; this house missed you.”

I snicker. “How can a house miss someone?”

“She missed you fussing over her is what I mean. The wood floors in the kitchen miss their special cleaning days, and that fireplace over there…” He gently squeezes my chin and pushes it toward the cold and empty fireplace. “…misses you lying naked in front of it.”

Fire.

The fire in his eyes is taking me over, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Not that I really want to. I’ve given up putting that wall up against Jake because I know he’s not here to hurt me. The last thing on his mind is how to push me away when he’s fought so hard to find me again. I’m starting to sound like him, but I don’t care. If he says it’s the truth…then it’s the truth. Still, I feel guilty not calling my mother—or sister, whoever she freaking is—and letting her know that I’m okay and Jake hasn’t run off with me.

“I have to call my mom.” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Can you give me a few minutes alone?”

He kisses my forehead before standing up to leave the room. When he’s gone, the air gets cold, and it’s really noticeable to the point where my skin has chills. It’s funny how much of a hole Jake creates when he leaves a room, and I take note to put that in the category of things I completely crave about him.

“Livvie?” my mother’s voice squeals into the phone. “Are you okay? Where did he take you?”

“I’m in Seattle at Jake’s house. Calm down.” I yawn and pull my feet up into the sofa next to me. I feel strange, like I’m acting differently than my normal self. “I’m staying here for a few days.”

She sighs loudly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s not exactly safe there for you…”

“No one here wants to hurt me.”

“Olivia, you don’t know that. What about the man who broke into the house and put a knife to your throat? What if he finds you there…or someone else does?”

“Jake will keep me safe. He won’t let anything bad happen to me. I just need some time away from Silver Lake.”

“Away from Silver Lake or away from us?”

I don’t know how to answer her without hurting her feelings.

“I just wish you would’ve told me the truth. It’s not fun being part of someone’s secret and living life like nothing’s wrong.”

When I find my voice, I wish I hadn’t. My mother sits on her end of the phone and cries. After her sobs come to an end, she apologizes a few times and clears her throat. “We didn’t know what else to do; we didn’t know if anyone was after you, and we didn’t know if you’d be safe in Seattle with Jake. You have to believe me, Olivia, we never meant to hurt you.”

Even though I’m still fuzzy on what actually happened, I stand my ground because she doesn’t need to know that I don’t know everything yet. “I just need a few days to wrap my head around this. I promise I’ll be back,” I say, but she’s already sobbing again. “Mom?”

She stops and waits a few seconds before answering. “Yes?”

“I know that you’re my sister, but I don’t know you as a sister. I know you as my mom, and that’s what it’s going to continue to be, okay?”

If she could scream and jump for joy, I’m sure she would’ve. “Okay, Livvie,” she whispers, telling me she loves me before hanging up. She didn’t give me a chance to explain anything else or talk to my dad or Caitlyn, probably because they’re upset with me too. I can’t think about that—I have to keep my thoughts on what’s in front of me.

How exactly did I lose my memories?

“I’m ready to know more. I have more questions.” I walk into the kitchen where Jake is hunched over the breakfast bar with a sandwich falling from his mouth. He smiles, and it’s heartwarming as pieces of meat fall back down to his plate. “I want to know why I can’t remember anything.”

He coughs. “Is that a question, though?”

I glare at him. “Jake, why can’t I remember anything?”

He swallows the large bite and puts the sandwich back down but looks at it like it’s the saddest thing he’s ever been through. “Okay.” He smacks his hands together. “Toward the end of everything, your father—Michael—he started barking up trees in a lot of the wrong places. He’d taken money from some pretty influential people and squandered it, and they weren’t happy.”

I sit down next to him and take the sandwich from his plate. His eyes grow wide when he sees me shove the sandwich into my mouth, letting the delicious meat tickle my taste buds. I laugh through the mouthful of food and put the sandwich back down. “Sorry, were you still eating that?”

“You—did you—what the hell?” He laughs and snatches the food back from me. “Yeah, I’m eating that, you little sneak. You were always stealing my food, and I don’t know where you put it in that tight little body of yours.” His eyes glow as he inhales another bite of the food and hands it back to me.

“I just wanted a taste.”

Growling, he puts the sandwich down and twirls me toward him so he can have a better shot at me. “Funny, that’s the same thing I’ve wanted for over a week now.”

“Jake—”

He holds up his hand away from me. “Okay, okay. Back to the question. So these people that he owed all this money to wanted it back, of course. He wouldn’t give it to them—or couldn’t maybe, I don’t know—but a few of them were linked to some pretty fucking bad situations in Seattle and around the country. I’m talking mafia-style people, Olivia.”

I lick my lips and fixate on his mouth.

“So someone came to me and asked for information on where he would be that night, and I told them. You gotta understand that by that time, your father was pissed that I left my job with him and pissed that I didn’t want to help him clean up the mess he created. He came here and forced you to go with him and told me that I’d never see your face again in my life. I didn’t know what else to do…I thought he was alone in the car by that time—”

His sobs soften as my body wraps around his and holds him as close to my heartbeat as I can get him. His long fingers clutch to the back of my t-shirt, and I let him cry as much as he needs to, because from the moment I met him, I could tell he’s held it in for a long time.

“I never meant for you to get hurt. I thought they were going to rough him up and scare the money out of him. I never thought…”

He buries himself in my hair to let the rest of it out. “I may not know much before Silver Lake, but the way you are with me now? I’ll never believe that you’d intentionally hurt me. Not for a second. I don’t need memories to know that you hold a deep place inside my heart.”

This.

This is all it freaking takes.

The sadness in his eyes gets replaced with an intense fire fueled by desire, and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before he gives into it. Jake is like a ticking time bomb—you never know when he’s going to go off and surprise the hell out of you.

His lips reach mine, and the whole freaking world explodes. Jake kisses me with frustration and confusion, but I don’t let it stop me from taking what I’m hungry for. As his lips glide over my skin, it’s like they’re returning home, and it’s an electric celebration. His rough, warm hand grips the side of my neck gently as his teeth nick the soft flesh of my collarbone.

And then he says it.

Three. Little. Words.

“I love you.”

Speechless—and not understanding why since it’s not really a shock that he feels this way—I stand in front of him with my mouth open and eyes wide. “If I say it back, it doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me.”

Jake’s eyes darken. “You have no fucking idea what it means to me.”

“And you know what it means to me?”

“Enlighten me. What does it mean to you?”

I don’t know how to answer his question. I know that deep down somewhere in the pits of my soul, there’s a lock with the name “Jake” on it. I’ve never questioned what he means to me; I’ve only questioned what he meant to me. I can’t see myself the way he describes this loose and carefree girl who was loved by all and had beauty dripping from her every pore.

No.

Not Olivia White.

I’m awkward and annoying—sometimes—and okay, maybe a little naïve if we want to split hairs on this. I want things I can’t have, and usually I can’t even get the things I don’t want. I flutter by and watch the people around me evolve into better versions of themselves like a long, long movie.

But no.

Not Olivia White.

Not me.

But I do love him.

A lot.

Chapter Nineteen

Say it

Jake

She wants to fucking know everything so damn quickly that it’s making my head spin.

It’s not that I don’t want to tell her everything, but…

I don’t want to tell her everything.

And I haven’t.

I haven’t told her I love her so much it fucking kills me inside.

I haven’t told her that I’ve dreamed about her every single night since I’ve met her.

I haven’t told her that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.

…Well, maybe I have told her that one.

As I impatiently wait for her to say “I love you” back to me, something bad is triggered inside of me, and I know I have to make it go away. She doesn’t deserve this version of me…fuck, Lacey didn’t even deserve this fucking side of me.

The beast.

When she doesn’t say it back, I drop my hands from hers. “I’m sorry.” I take in a deep breath and wear my guilt on my sleeve. “Don’t think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really, really fucking do all the way into the deepest parts of my heart. I know you inside and out, Bug. I’m still figuring out this version of you, okay? I know that sounds fucking horrible, but it’s the truth. Don’t—” I pull her chin back from looking away so she can see the truth in my eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t turn away. I am completely in love with you, and there’s nothing that’s ever going to change that. Not a horrible fucking father, not an accident, and sure as hell not something as silly as a fucking name. I’ll call you whatever you want…just don’t ever leave me again.” I can tell it’s startling her how intense I’m getting.

I know, baby. I’m a fucking monster.

“I’m ready to know more.” Her small voice finds me. “Jake…” Her hand takes its place on mine, and she sucks in air through her teeth. “I’m ready to know more.”

Jesus. I can’t take this shit.

Her pouty bottom lip is tucked in behind her teeth like she does when she’s nervous.

Her small fingers twirl around her silky-smooth chestnut hair like ribbons.

Her hips call to me; they want me to grab them so fucking tight she can’t stand it.

Get a grip, Jake.

Jake. Jake. Jake.

“Jake?” She calls for me through the fog of my daydream. “Hey, are you okay?”

I lick my lips and look at her. “More. You want to know more.”

She giggles. Jesus, that’s the cutest damn giggle—

“Hey.” Her voice lowers, and she’s closer to me now. “Focus.”

“I’m here.” I snap back into reality, but part of me still stays in my fantasy daydream where I’m tearing through her clothes and taking what I need from her.

I really fucking need her.

“Um, okay so…” I try and return myself to a normal state. “I told those people where your dad would be after he ran off with you. You called me and told me he’d taken you to his house, but I never knew you left with him after that. I also didn’t know they fucked with the brakes on his car and chased him down so he’d wrap it around a tree.”

“I believe you.” She puts herself in my lap. The way she curls her body into mine is fucking intoxicating and, to be honest…not fucking fair. “Where’s Michael now?”

“Federal prison in SeaTac. About half an hour from here.”

Sadness creeps into her eyes. Everything I am…I owe to this woman. She pulled me from a darkness that would’ve killed me. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to have things back to normal around here where I could look at her a certain way and she’d let me take her on whatever surface we had nearby.

Not this girl.

No, Lacey Cervase was carefree, and sexiness radiated from her skin.

Olivia White is a different breed of addicting. She’s cute and small, and even though she’s always been that way, now she doesn’t have the confidence screaming behind her, making her the carefree person she once was. I like this version of her, though; she’s sweet, not tainted by the fucked-up world she was born into.

She also giggles when I touch her now instead of moans.

I really fucking like that.

“Jake, I’d like to visit my dad’s house and possibly visit him too,” she says underneath my chin. I say nothing but just hold her as the afternoon marches on. “I want to see the house in my dreams.”

I grind my teeth. “The house was sold with his estate by your sis—mother. I’m not sure if the people living there now will like us meddling around their house, but I can take you to the outside of it if you want. My mom still lives across the street from it.”

Shit.

I can’t take Olivia anywhere near my fucking mother.

“Okay, let’s go.” She squeals and bounces off my lap, making my dick vibrate with her.

I clear my throat. “Okay, but only on one condition.”

“What is it?”

My tongue runs across my teeth as I carefully choose my words. “After this and after I tell you the rest of the story, you’re free to ask any questions because that’s your right and I don’t want to take that from you, but you have to agree on trying to live a normal life with me.”

“With you, how? Like, move here?”

“If you want, or we can move somewhere in Silver Lake or wherever you want to go.”

She thinks about my proposal for a few minutes, but I’m confident enough to let her take her time. I know she’s going to go along with this—she has to.

“I don’t want to move in with you, Jake,” she softly says. “That’s a little too much too soon.”

Okay, didn’t see that one coming…

“Then I’ll move to Silver Lake in a real place so we aren’t apart.” She accepts my answer because she doesn’t want to make it into a thing. I know her well enough to know that. “Okay, we should shower and change if we want to get across town before nightfall.”

Olivia laughs. “It’s only mid-afternoon.”

I pick her up unexpectedly and throw her over my shoulder while she squeals with glee. “Baby, you forget that I’ve lived with you before. I know how long it takes you to get ready for things, and trust me, we won’t be leaving for another few hours.”

Her round ass is staring me in the face. Literally. There isn’t much I can do to stop myself from slapping it and listening to her giggle uncontrollably. At this point, who fucking knows what I am to her, but I know what she is to me.

She’s mine.

My everything.

“Are you going to be okay wearing some clothes from the closet? I can run out and pick something up for you if you want,” I offer, but she waves me off.

“I’m sure I can find something that doesn’t make me feel like an imposter.” She smiles.

This is my chance. “Do you still feel that way?”

She nods and starts sifting through the clothes hanging next to us. “Sometimes, yes. Then again, sometimes no. I think you’re confusing me more than I already was, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, really. I just wish I could find the key to unlock everything and move on. All of this is exhausting, and it’s really terrifying finding out your real family was so horrible.”

“Your mother, father, and Caitlyn are your real family. As pissed at them as I was, I still understood why they hid you away. Your dad was going to take you down with him one way or another.”

Her eyes grow wide with fear. “Am I in danger here?”

“No, you’re not.”

I don’t know how to answer her without freaking her the hell out. I can’t fucking tell her the absolute truth about what happened to the brakes of the car or she’ll never want to see me again.

Olivia takes her t-shirt off and unhooks her bra without hesitation. She knows I’m watching her; the softness of her skin beckons me to reach out and touch it, but I hold back the best I can.

With her back facing me, she braids her long, chestnut hair down the side of her body and misses a few stray strands that tickle her shoulders. The need to race to her and kiss her bare flesh overwhelms me, but I manage to stand my ground long enough for her to slip on another black bra and lipstick-red sweater. There’s a chill in the air outside, but in this small room I can almost see the steam from the heat between us. The loose shorts of mine she’s got on slide down her smooth legs and find their new home on the floor at her feet.

“Are you purposely trying to tease me?” A growl from the back of my throat finds its way out. “If so, you’re doing a fucking fantastic job.”

She turns, and her cheeks are flushed. “I wasn’t trying to tease you; I thought you’d left.” Her blush deepens, and she’s so embarrassed that now I feel bad. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve left the room and given you privacy,” I apologize, taking a few steps back.

She snickers and finds a folded pair of jeans in a drawer next to her. After pulling them on and being impressed that they fit like a glove, her eyes find mine again. “We are literally the dumbest people on the planet—you get that, right?” She starts to laugh, and it’s so contagious that I can’t help but join her. “We are a perfect match, you and I. Me with my broken past and lost memories and you with your dripping sadness and lurking Hulk anger.”

“I’d like to think we’re perfect for each other.” I slowly move my body toward her, but she doesn’t back away once. “And I don’t have dripping sadness, Bug. I have some serious fucking need for you to be writhing underneath me, but that’s about it.”

Olivia snickers, but her eyes stay locked with mine while she bends over to put on a pair of sneakers. “Aren’t you going to get dressed so we can go?”

I nod. “I was waiting for you to finish.”

I pull off my own t-shirt, and her eyes glue to my skin. I don’t think much about the way I look anymore; ever since Olivia found me and pressed me into her heart like a petal between book pages, I haven’t found a need to care about what I look like for anyone else.

As she watches me, her eyes trace over my tattoos like she’s studying from a textbook. First, she gazes over the tree, then the mockingbird, and then rests on the Roman numerals on my shoulder blade. Out of all the pieces of ink she could ask about, of course that’s the one she picks to lock her eyes questioningly on mine about. “What do those numbers mean?” She wiggles her little finger around in the air. “Are those Roman numerals?”

I run my finger along my shoulder blade where the tattoo is. “It says July 12, 2010. The day that I realized I was in love with you.” The flush and heat on my cheeks doesn’t compare at all to the fire in her eyes when she processes what I’ve told her. I fucking love it when I surprise her enough and it shows on her face; I also fucking love it when she looks at me like I’m the only person in this entire damn world who understands her.

She isn’t wrong.

“That date is special to me, Bug. It’s the day my life changed and turned upside down. I couldn’t sleep without thinking about you or eat without worrying where you were. I wanted to spend every second with you, and I often did until your overbearing father stepped in.”

The dark strands of her hair frame her face and sway when she shakes her head. “Sounds like you were obsessed with me.” Her smirk eases my nerves because she’s trying to be sexy and funny. Shit, she doesn’t have to try to be sexy…I’m not the only one who wants her.

“So…” She walks toward me and places a finger on the newfound tattoo. “Are all of your tattoos because of me?”

“Yes,” I say instantly. “Everything is about you.”

“Not everything.”

I place my hands on her shoulders to stop her from moving around my body. “Olivia, I want to be with you.”

Her cute-ass giggle rings in my ears. “You are with me.”

Shaking my head, I let go of her shoulders. “No, I mean…you know what I mean.”

“Jake—”

The anger rises in my throat, and I told myself a long fucking time ago that I’d never be that person with her. It’s frustrating that she can’t remember our life and how much we loved each other, and I know it’s there…it’s deep down in her heart, but it’s buried beneath a year of confusion and fear. It’s my job to protect her and help her, and even though I’ve done a shitty job of it lately, I’m trying to make up for it now by keeping her close.

“Olivia, you confuse me every damn day. I love you, and I know you love me…it’s just really fucking hard to keep my distance when I know what we had and you don’t. But it’s my fault and I have to live with that…and I’m prepared to do that.”

The laugh she gives me should piss me off, but it makes me blush instead. “Well, you do have my life tattooed across your body like a road map to my memories.”

“Like I said…everything is about you.”

The way she licks her lips slays me. “I don’t want everything to be about me. I just want to be normal, and my normal is piecing together what I’ve missed so I can move on. I know you’re part of my life, Jake—there’s no guessing about that, and maybe I do have new and old feelings for you…”

Her voice starts to shake, and I know her well enough to recognize what it means.

“Say it, Olivia.” I nudge her with my tone of voice. “Just say it.”

My fingers find the ends of her braid and play with it. She loves it when I touch her; I can tell. The way her skin moves toward my touch always lets her true feelings shine through. This time is no different as I run my thumb along her pouty bottom lip and bend down to kiss it. She lets me glide my lips across hers for a few seconds before returning the kiss, folding her arms around my neck and letting me pull her so tightly into me that I can barely breathe.

“Say it,” I coax her again. “I want to hear you say it.”

“If I say it, it becomes real, and I don’t want the only real thing in my life to go away,” she whispers into my chest. “I don’t want you to go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I just want to hear you say it. I want that part of our lives to settle back into normal so everything else has a chance too.”

She breathes in deeply, taking in every ounce of air that she can.

She’s going to say it.

Please fucking say it.

I need to hear you say it, Olivia.

“I love you, Jake.” She burrows deeper into my chest. “I don’t know what that means, but I know that now that you’re here…I don’t ever want to let you go.”

My body relaxes, and for the first time in a long time…

I’m at peace.

Chapter Twenty

Goodbye

I wait for Jake to get dressed and realize that I need so many things that I don’t have. I need a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and my own clothes, for starters. What am I talking about? I know I don’t live here—not really—but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s home, either.

What am I going to do?

He didn’t force me into telling him that I love him: I wanted to do that. I do love him, for reasons unknown other than I just…know. I just know. I just know. I just know.

Nope. Saying it three times in a row doesn’t make it any clearer.

“Hey, baby?” Jake calls for me from the bathroom.

I slip on shoes and trot to the open door, where he’s grinning at me with a face full of shaving cream and a razor in his hand. “What if the people that live in the house let us walk through? What are you wanting to do there?”

I shrug and watch him continue shaving. I know he’s making this small talk because I was out of his view and telling someone you love them for the first time—in this lifetime I guess, anyway—and then leaving them to their own thoughts may or may not be dangerous, especially for someone as heartfelt and sensitive as Jake.

“Do you think it’ll help me remember anything?” I ask.

After he finishes shaving, I hand him a towel, and the smile that’s been on his face since I said those three little words hasn’t faded one bit. “The only thing we can do is try. Let me ask you a question.” He leans over onto the sink and comes eye level with me. “Do you really want to remember all the bad shit when you have a chance to get a clean break from everything? You can make new memories without your fucked-up dad in them or the accident.”

“I want to remember, Jake. I want to remember who I really am.”

He licks his lips and brushes hair from my face. “You are who you want to be, Bug. You decide that, not memories of the person you once were.”

“I’d like to think I’m the kind of person who tries.” Our eyes lock together. “What if I get there and remember everything? Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

He sighs, and I notice that he’s naked—well, naked except for a white towel covering his lower half. Until now, I’ve been so worried about where I’ve been…that I’m missing what’s in front of me and where I am right now.

Don’t touch him, Olivia.

Don’t do it.

I reach out and place my palm over his rapidly beating heart. “After we’re done with visiting the old house, I’d like you to take me to a grocery store to pick up a few things. We can’t stay here without food.” I know I’m blushing, but there’s nothing I can do about it now that his interest is piqued and he’s crossed his long arms over his hard chest, tucking my hand beneath the weight.

Oh, no.

Don’t stare.

You’ll want him more than you already do.

“Olivia?” The sexy smirk on his lips annoys me. “Something wrong?”

I quickly shake my head. “I’m ready to go—maybe you should finish getting dressed and meet me downstairs? I’ll drive.” I find a smile and stick it on my lips. Not bothering to listen to his response, I huff and leave the room.

The car keys to my alleged deep blue Mercedes are hanging right where Jake said they would be. Opening a few doors, I find the garage and step inside to a frigid and dark space. Fumbling around, I find the light switch, and my jaw drops to the floor. I’m standing in the empty space where Jake’s car must belong, because next to it is the exact car Jake said would be here. My stomach drops, and something clicks when I use the keyless remote to start it and open the door.

Something inside of me tells me that it’s going to smell like lavender when I shut the door. Inhaling a deep breath, the flowery scent tickles my nose and releases pleasure into my body. The large garage door behind me opens, and Jake steps into the now-lit space. His jeans hug his body in every place they should, and it makes me lick my lips. He tightens a black leather motorcycle jacket around his tall body, and the maroon sweater beneath it peeks through a bit.

“Why do you wear a motorcycle jacket if you don’t ride?” I joke as he gets into the passenger side of the car. He smiles and hands me a jacket; I blush because I’m making fun of him when he’s trying to take care of me.

He slowly nods to the front of the garage where two beast-like motorcycles shine light into my eyes from their shiny chrome parts.

“Oh.” My cheeks flush with heat harder. “I guess I don’t remember that, either.”

Jake lets out a slow breath. “I don’t expect you to remember anything, Olivia. My expectations of that are very, very low. Not because I think you can’t do it, but because I don’t want you to.”

My eyes narrow at him. “How can I trust you to take me to this house when you don’t want me to remember? For all I know, you could lie about what house it really is just to satisfy me.”

His seat belt buckles, and his boyish charm hits me like a ton of bricks. “You’ve seen it in your dreams, haven’t you? I love you. I don’t want you to ever think like that about me. If you want someone else to take you—”

“I don’t want anyone else,” I blurt out. “I want you.”

Two seconds.

That’s how long it takes for his hidden tattooed arms to reach out to me and pull my lips onto his. He’s hungry for me, and honestly, after so long of not knowing where I belong in my own life…it’s good to be wanted. I want Jake too, though, and that’s going to be a problem for me. I can’t be the person he wants me to be no matter how much he denies that he wants me to change back to Lacey Cervase.

But I’m Olivia White.

I love hard and don’t trust easily.

Except when it comes to Jake Redding.

His fingers find my lips as we part, and he rests his forehead on mine. “The feeling that’s in the bottom of your stomach right now? The bubbly, light snapping feeling? That’s what you do to me every time you smile at me. That’s love, baby, and I never want it to go away again.”

Our lips find each other again, and this time I don’t hold back. I take everything he’s willing to give to me and then some. I don’t realize how long I haven’t been breathing until he forces himself to sit back in his own chair and lick his lips. “We better get going or I’m going to take you back in that house and we won’t be leaving.”

A zip of excitement flashes through my body. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” I smirk and put the car in reverse. He directs me through the streets of suburban Seattle until we get stuck at a stoplight that takes forever to turn.

Jake clears his throat. “Maybe we should talk about that.”

“Talk about what? Did I miss a turn?”

He laughs, and the light turns green. I start driving through the intersection, and his long fingers tap on the door. “No, we should talk about sex.”

Shit! Keep cool, Olivia!

Eyes on the road!

“Sex?” The word trickles from my lips like it’s forbidden. “When?”

He laughs at me again, and this time it annoys me. “Uh, whenever you want, baby. I’m open to it right now in a parking lot to be fucking honest.”

I pretend to gag, and he frowns. “In a parking lot? Jesus, Jake.”

“What?” He acts offended—and maybe he is, but I don’t care. “Listen, it’s been over a year for me, and I don’t know who you’ve been—”

“Don’t even. I haven’t had sex with anyone since moving to Silver Lake. You can count on that.”

“I didn’t mean to piss you off.” Sadness lifts his voice through the car. “I was just stating a fact. I won’t have sex with anyone but you.” His curls bounce on his head as he shakes it violently. “I can’t have sex with anyone but you.”

“Can’t? How do you know?”

“I just know,” he mumbles, and a sour feeling hits my stomach.

My skin crawls. “Never mind. Which way?”

He points in the direction to turn, and the car lurches where his finger stops. “I just want you to know that there’s nothing stopping me from being with you other than you deciding when the time is right for us again.”

“And if I never decide that?”

A small hitch in his breath pings around the car. “I hope that never happens, but if it does…I’ll just have to deal with it, won’t I?” The growl in the back of his throat wants to come out and play. “But just keep in mind that telling me you love me back there at the house…that’s turned me on a thousand times more than you ever fucking have. There, that’s the house.”

I stop the car where he’s pointing and pull off to the side of the road.

That’s the house in my dreams.

He’s looking out his window across the street at what I can assume is his mother’s house, like he said before. All of the houses around look like mini mansions—ridiculously large properties that take an obscene amount of money to maintain and keep up to your neighbors’ standards.

“Is that your mother’s house?” I squint to see through the impending moonlight better. “Why is there a for sale sign on the front lawn? Because you refused to give her your money?”

He slowly nods. “I know it sounds cruel.”

“I wish I remembered her and what she was like to you so I can understand.” My eyes find my lap and stick there like glue. “What was she like?”

Jake hooks his finger beneath my chin and lifts my gaze back to him. His wide lips frown at my sadness. My thumb lightly runs over the right pocket of his mouth, and his frown fades into a smile. Sliding his hand up my arm, he moves my finger to the center of his lips and kisses it gently.

“I don’t want you to ever feel ashamed of your memories, baby. It’s not your fault, and you’re trying.” The smile deepens on his lips. “I know you’re chasing someone you used to be. That’s not you anymore, and that’s okay.” His copper blonde curls fall on his forehead as he nods toward the house across from his mother’s. “That’s where you grew up. It doesn’t mean you belong there now, understand?”

“I get it, Jake. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

He winks and kisses my finger again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I take a deep breath and look at the house we’re here to see. It’s so big that three of my parents’ houses could fit inside comfortably. A long, dark circle drive runs in front of it and tall, gray pillars look like they’re holding up three tall stories of house. The large window in the lower level—that looks like it’s where a living room would be—catches my attention, and I can’t take my eyes from it.

“Anything familiar?” Jake asks.

“Maybe.” I open the car door to get out. He races out of his side and meets me on the sidewalk before I shut my door. He holds out his hand, and I take it immediately without a second thought. There’s no cars in the drive, and it doesn’t even look like anyone lives here at all. The air is so silent that it creeps me out, but I stop in front of the window once we walk close enough to it and peer in.

The room is empty.

“Huh,” I gruff. “I guess no one lives here.”

Something that sounds like heels clicks on the walkway behind us, and a tall, blonde woman in a sparkly evening gown crosses her arms over her chest. “What are you two doing here?”

Jake growls. “We’re leaving, Mother. Don’t worry.”

Jake’s mother. She snarls her red-painted lips at me like she wants to rip eyes out. “How dare you bring her back here after what she’s done to you…what she’s done to this family!” Her whisper is so harsh that it hurts my heart. “She’s nothing but a manipulative, controlling little beast just like her father!”

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that.” His voice is a low warning. “Olivia, don’t listen to her.”

She scoffs. “Olivia? Is that what you’re calling yourself now? I see right through you, you little wench. I know you’re putting on an act; I know you remember everything. I watched you drag my son through the mud and muck with your dirty father, and I’m not going to sit back and watch it again.”

“I don’t even know you!” I explode at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The woman’s laugh rattles my insides. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. Sit there and pretend you don’t remember, that’s fine. My son told me the truth, and you’re lucky I’m keeping my mouth shut about it.”

“The truth about what? I barely remember anything!”

Her eyes narrow, and she stares directly into my soul. “My son’s love for you weakened him. You took advantage of his weakness for you and played him right into the hands of the devil, didn’t you? Please, don’t disrespect me and stand there like you don’t know what he did for you!”

Jake’s body starts to shake. “Shut the fuck up! Don’t say another word!”

“Tell me.” My voice finds her through the screaming.

“Jake cut those brake lines because he thought it was the only way you two could be together. You’re just a girl…I tried telling him you weren’t worth the consequences, but he didn’t listen.”

My focus goes to Jake as tears stream down his face.

“You?” My legs shake, and I want to run. “It was you that cut the brakes? It was you that did this to me?”

The world spins so fast that I can’t catch my breath. My feet feel like they’re floating, and before I know it, the arguing stops and they both look at me with heavy concern in their eyes.

“Bug…” Jake slowly walks toward me with his hands in defense mode. “I can explain.”

“You lied to me.” My body rattles with rage. “You lied to me!”

Before he can answer for himself or catch me, my legs take me back to the car, and I’m able to shut and lock the door before Jake can reach me. He doesn’t look angry as he pleads with me to open the door and let him inside, but I’m not about to do that.

“Bug, let me in.” He rests his forehead against the glass. His brown eyes meet mine, and I almost do what he asks before my instincts kick back in. “I’m not going to hurt you. You know that, right?”

I purse my lips. “I’m going home.”

“Okay, let me go—”

“Home to Silver Lake. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me, and don’t show your fucking face there. I don’t want to see you anymore, Jake. You were the one person who I trusted, and you lied straight to my face!” I crack the window a little so he can hear me better. “You told me it was someone my father owed money to! It was you…what kind of a person—”

Jake nervously looks around. “I know I’m a monster. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

I laugh so loud that it echoes in the car. “I shouldn’t even be here with you!”

“You don’t mean that—”

“I mean it. I take back everything, Jake. I can’t love someone like you.”

Jake sighs and tries the door handle again. “Please, baby, don’t leave. I can’t promise that I won’t follow you back to Silver Lake…I can’t do that.” His pleads get louder, and I see tears in his eyes. “We can move anywhere you want to move. We can leave everything behind. Just don’t tell me goodbye, Bug.”

I don’t blink.

“Goodbye, Jake,” I say and hit the gas pedal, leaving him a broken mess on the sidewalk.

He wanted me to fix him, and I just broke his heart for a second time.

Chapter Twenty-One

Blame

The drive back to Silver Lake went much quicker than I thought it would. Maybe it’s because I was seething the entire way home; my mind is teeming with questions that I want to bombard my family with. There’s no way I’m telling them about Jake’s secret; they already hate him enough on their own without adding fuel to the fire.

Jake’s been calling me nonstop since I left him broken on the sidewalk, but not once did I care to answer. I trusted him, and he lied to me. Everyone always lies to me, and it’s going to stop right now.

I know I have a good half an hour head start before Jake, and I know he’s on his way. There’s no doubt in my mind that he isn’t going to listen to me and stay away. Knowing him, he’s probably racing down the freeway as we speak, white knuckling the steering wheel and cursing into the wind.

Home.

There’s my parents’ house, lit up and waiting for me to come back.

Not wasting any time, I slam the car into park in the driveway and throw myself out onto the pavement. I want to rip my clothes off because they make me feel like an imposter, but as I reach the front door and it opens on its own, my thoughts shift and my mother’s face meets me just a few feet away.

“No more lies. I want the truth.” I grit my teeth, and she looks defeated. They all know that they’ve been found out as I brush past her and see Caitlyn and my dad—or whoever he really is—sitting with their heads down in the living room. My body whirls back to my mother—sister, whatever—as she shuts the front door and locks the deadbolt. “No need to do that. I’m not staying long,” I growl as she steps into the room.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Look, I think you better sit down and take a deep breath before we start explaining. You ran off with Jake, and we were left to worry about you.”

“Are you blaming Jake for this?” my voice booms. “This has nothing to do with him!”

“The hell it doesn’t!” she screams back. I’ve never heard her raise her voice to this level before, and it’s a little off-kilter. “It’s his fault you were in that car, because you weren’t even supposed to be with him! He’s the reason those thugs cut the brake lines, and he’s the reason they knew where and when to do it! Don’t you see, Olivia? You’ve trusted him wrongly once again!”

They don’t know the truth.

There’s no way I’m telling them anything.

“Leave Jake out of this!” I look around to Caitlyn and my fake father.

My father—or brother-in-law, I guess—speaks up. “Make no mistake that we’ve treated you like our own this past year, and we’ve enjoyed having you. The reason we don’t have any pictures together is because there aren’t any. We didn’t know you as Lacey: We only know you as Olivia. Do you think it’s fair to treat us like this when we’ve done nothing but try and help you?”

“We turned our lives upside down for you,” Caitlyn chimes in. “I left my life in Seattle behind so I could protect you from what happened.”

This all sounds like blame to me.

They blame me for loving Jake and trying to be happy.

They blame me for all the chaos.

They even blame me for their choice in taking me in and keeping me safe.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that. Are you looking for a thank you? I’m not going to thank you for lying to me for a year! You made me feel crazy and forced me to see Dr. Ross when everything was true! I’ve been squirming in my own skin, trying to find my real place in the world, and you people have known about it all along!”

“I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe, dammit!” My father—what do I even call him now?—raises his voice. “We did what we had to do to take you away from all of that and give you a better, more fulfilling life. We aren’t sorry for that.”

The air in the room grows even more tense. Three of us are frothing at the mouths and Caitlyn sits next to her father with tears in her eyes. I feel sorry for her for being dragged into this, but she sort of comes with the package since she lied to me too.

“I want the whole, true story,” I demand. “Now.”

“Michael Cervase got into some bad business deals and started getting death threats,” my mom says. “Before the accident, he came to us and asked us to take you away so you wouldn’t get hurt. You found out and ran to Jake, who tried to hide you and keep you safe on his own. But Jake has a temper problem, as you probably are well aware of now. He wouldn’t let us take you, so we had to take you by force. Then he called the people looking for your father and told them where he’d be. They cut his brake lines to his car after you returned home, but he didn’t know. He was taking you out for dinner to calm you down and talk about things, but the brakes went out and the accident happened before he got the chance.”

My mother comes up next to me and almost puts her hand on my shoulder but decides against it. “So we had our chance when you woke up in the hospital and didn’t know where or who you were.”

Caitlyn wipes her eyes. “I left Jake a note, though, so it’s not like he didn’t know you were gone.”

The rage building inside of me intensifies everything. The fact that they are sitting here defending themselves is pissing me off. I can’t be mad at them for trying to help me. At the same time, though, they kept my life a secret from me, and if Jake hadn’t found me, who knows when—or if—they would even have told me the truth.

And the fact that they blame everything on him pisses me off more.

“You don’t know Jake like you did before.” My mom sits down on the sofa next to Caitlyn. “You didn’t know what he was capable of then, and you sure as hell don’t know now.”

I try to defend Jake’s innocence. “Jake would never hurt me. I know he sure as hell didn’t cause this to happen.”

“But would he hurt someone for you?” My father raises his eyebrow. “Sam Collins ended up in the hospital with a broken jaw and broken arm—any idea how that happened?”

“Sam said he was jumped, but then he told me he thought Jake was behind it because Sam played a joke on you.” Caitlyn smacks her lips. “Why would Jake do something like that other than having a serious anger problem?”

My eyes burn through her skull. “Sam tried to attack me at work, Caitlyn. Whatever happened to him, he had coming.” My mom’s head shakes. “What?”

“You still think Jake can do no wrong.”

“Jake is the only person who believed me!” The swelling in my chest deepens, and I have to calm down before my heart explodes. Where do I go from here? How can I just keep on going like nothing has happened? I left Jake, and now—judging from the looks on the faces of the only family I know—they want me to leave them too.

“We took you in because you’re my sister and I love you.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and right about now is when Jake should be pounding on the door, demanding that I speak to him. I ignore the vibrations and listen to her. “Since the day you were born, our father doted on you and loved you more. Of course, we’re nearly twenty years apart and have different mothers, but that never stopped me from wanting to be part of your life. Michael, though, he didn’t want me anywhere near you. I broke free from his grasp to marry your dad—uh, David—and Michael didn’t like it. David wasn’t wealthy and didn’t benefit our family any financially, so he wrote me off and never spoke to me again until he needed my help taking you in.”

“I don’t trust you.” I glare at her. “All three of you are liars.”

“Wait right there.” David holds up his hand in protest. “You’re being cruel, and that’s not fair. We didn’t have to take you and run. We didn’t have to make sure you were safe. We did that because you’re our family and that’s what family does.”

“I can’t trust any of you. I’m leaving.” I turn to go back to the front door. “For a year you’ve been lying to me. I’m glad Jake found me, or else I would’ve never known where I really belong.”

“And where is that?” David calls after me.

“Anywhere but here.” I jerk open the front door to step outside. I hit something hard, and the cinnamon scent washes over me.

Jake.

“You’re just in time.” I push him out of my way. “I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, Jake. Go home.”

He takes my arm and swings me around to face him. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw a fucking tantrum and run away. You don’t get to tell me you love me and then fucking throw me away like a piece of trash on the street.”

“Yeah? How about the secret you’ve been keeping from me? How could you do that to me? How could you be the one that takes everything from me?” My hair blows in the wind and whips across my cheeks. “How about a life you should have but can’t because you can’t remember it? My memories were stolen from me, Jake! I can’t even be scared or mad at you properly because it’s like it happened to someone else!”

Jake’s voice gets low. “Are you afraid of me, Olivia? Do you think I did it intentionally to hurt you?”

“No.” My breath is quick and hard to catch. “No, I don’t, and that makes everything worse.”

Caitlyn bounces outside and shuts the door behind her. Jake seethes so badly that I can nearly see steam coming from his feet. She notices his anger but still stands her ground no matter how scary he’s being.

“Olivia, please. I know you don’t think you can trust anyone right now, but…” She looks back at Jake and slightly nods. “Trust yourself. You have to trust yourself.”

“Trust myself?”

“She’s right.” Jake clears his throat and steps next to her. “We should go before the cops show up from all the screaming you just did.”

I snort. “I have more to give if you’d like some.”

Jake blushes all the way down his tattooed collarbone. “No fucking thank you.”

They have to give me some room to breathe. I close my eyes and tilt back my head, letting whatever I want flow through my brain like rainbow ribbons of light. I have to be smart about this and trust myself…because that’s really the only person I can rely on to get me through this.

“I just heard from one of my friends,” Caitlyn says. “Sam was behind the attack on you; he was the one who told the junkie there was money in the house. He’s out to get you, Livvie. Ever since you turned him down, he…hasn’t been the same.”

Jake’s fists clench together tightly. “How can he do anything with broken bones?”

My eyes snap to him. “How did you know about that? Do you have something to do with that?”

Jake doesn’t answer; his eyes are glued to the ground, and he’s ashamed of himself.

“Were you followed?” Caitlyn turns to Jake. “Do you think anyone followed you?”

He shakes his head, and the tousled copper blonde curls fall to the side. “No, I don’t think so.”

Caitlyn frowns. “You better get her out of town, just in case. Have one of your brothers poke around to make sure it’s safe to come back.”

Jake listens to her plan, and they act like I’m not still standing here with my eyes closed.

Shutting the world out.

Trusting myself.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tattered hearts and blue skies

I thought that when I finally found out the truth…I would be happy.

Sadly, nothing’s what it seems.

Wanting so badly for my life to turn into some sort of weird and fabricated fairy tale was a stupid mistake…but it was a mistake I’m glad I made. I’ll never be unsure of my feelings for Jake no matter how hard I try to push them deep into my mind. Still, the protective bubble he’s put around me needs to break soon so I can breathe and interact with other people besides him.

Okay…so what we’ve been doing the last two weeks isn’t exactly interacting.

I’ve basically been ignoring him and making him sad.

His brown eyes darken as he looks across the kitchen table at me. Jake’s been doing a fantastic job of letting me have my space, but I know it’s getting harder for him each day he has to endure it. If I’m being completely honest, I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself. I want Jake more than anyone, and saying that the feeling of needing to feel his heartbeat next to mine is growing…is a serious understatement.

Today is no different.

He’s been acting cheekier and more exuberant the past few days. I’ve wondered why we’ve been living in this rented condo for two weeks—forcing me to quit my job at the YMCA and leave everything I actually remember behind—when one of his brothers is supposed to be making it safe for us to head back to Seattle so I can visit Michael in federal prison.

Jake sighs loudly and shakes my thoughts. “Okay, I’m done with this shit.” His hands find the table, and he places them palms down. “I’m tired of you ignoring me and acting like I’m not here. I love you, Olivia, and you love me. We need to talk about this.”

My eyes narrow at him. He’s chosen to start walking around without a shirt on, and it pissed me off at first, but now it’s getting too hard to resist the deep, dark lines of the tattoos that tell my story.

I groan. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

He licks his lips. “How do you feel about me after knowing what I did?”

“Why did you cut his brakes? Were you trying to kill him?”

It’s clear that Jake doesn’t even know the answer to this question himself. “I wasn’t thinking, baby. You didn’t come back in an hour, and I thought he’d forced you on a plane somewhere. I thought you were gone, and I didn’t know where…”

“I believe you.” The words startle both of us. “Jake, I believe you, okay? It’s weird to know you’d do something like that—even for me—but I don’t fear you.”

“Baby…” His voice lowers, and he snakes his body around the table to sit dangerously close to me. “I know you’re confused and hurt, but I can’t take this anymore. I need you to keep talking to me…I need you.”

He wants me to kiss him, but I’m not there yet.

Instead, my fingers find my mockingbird tattoo on his arm and gently run over the black ink. His skin trembles when I touch him, and I kind of like it that he’s having trouble containing himself over a three-second touch. I let my fingers fall down his arm and stop, gazing at the artwork laden on his skin that I hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s this one?” I blush as Jake finds my fingers with his and tangles them together. I don’t pull away because it doesn’t feel right to pull away. “Is this one for me, too?”

He nods. “I got this the day after you told me I wear my heart on my sleeve. It’s also the day after I lost you, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

I examine the ink around his arm; the tattered form of a heart haunts me as my fingers run over his smooth skin. It makes me sad to look at it, like there’s so much emotion and sadness wrapped up in one little harmless tattoo.

“It’s a broken heart.” I find his bright brown eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a good memory, Jake.”

Jake’s laugh is so hearty that it makes my head feel fuzzy. Something about his broken heart tattoo and his laugh pops my mind into another place. He snaps his fingers in front of my face. His eyebrows furrow in intrigue; it takes a few seconds for the clouds to clear from my vision for me to fully see his face. I don’t care what anyone says anymore: I’m Olivia White…not Lacey Cervase.

Olivia White wants Jake more than she can stand it.

Somehow before either of us realize it, our lips are locked together, and we don’t have a care in the world. I settle my body on his lap as he leans back in his chair, moaning into my mouth when I nick his bottom lip with my teeth.

The moment his hands find the small of my back and touch the bare flesh, the frustration built up inside of Jake unleashes with a fury. He grips the back of my hair and tugs backward, making my chin tip toward the ceiling so his lips can suction against the soft flesh of my neck. He trails his mouth back up toward my lips and opens his eyes so he can look at me.

“I need you.” He kisses my jawline. “I need you to survive.”

I bite my bottom lip as he trails his mouth down my neck again and pushes the collar of my yellow blouse aside. He kisses my collarbone, not daring to go past the fabric of the thin material covering my torso in fear that he won’t be able to control himself.

I don’t want him to control himself.

I want it all; I want everything he has inside of me.

“It’s not fair to you if we fuck.” His cinnamon breath reaches my nose and hovers inches from my face. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

He grips the back of my head to keep me steady because he can feel me pulling away from him. “Confused, angry, and pissed at me.”

His lips linger over me for a few seconds to let me think.

All I can think about are the blue skies above us through the skylight as he tips my neck further to the ceiling.

Blue skies and the tattered heart on Jake’s sleeve.

The heart I left behind.

I’m getting what I want for once.

He slides his hands around my waist and squeezes; I lean forward to let him bury his face in between the softness of my breasts as he unbuttons my blouse and lets it fall off of me onto the floor. His hands slide around each breast; there’s nothing I can do but tip my head backward where he wants it and moan loudly into the air once his lips start suctioning around each nipple and he tugs lightly with his lips.

His sexy chuckle finds me in the abyss of pleasure. “I take it you don’t care how I feel about taking advantage of you?”

Licking my lips, I close my eyes and grip the back of his head. “No talking.” I blow a long breath out. “I want this.”

He rips off my leggings and shakes the torn garment onto the floor, and I’m left with nothing but a pair of silk panties, sitting on his lap beneath his aggressive touch. I like it that he’s a little scared to be with me because I’m feeling the exact same way—although I’d never admit it to him. There’s a few moments I come in and out of pleasure waves and he’s taken off his pants and tight, black boxer briefs with one swoop of his arm. I giggle and it’s like gas to his engine; he revs beneath me and vibrates my skin as his legs tremble.

“Jesus, Olivia.” His hands find each side of my ass, and he roughly grips the flesh between his fingers. He slides his fingers around the bottom of my thighs and raises me in the air, and everything kicks into slow motion. I look down and the sparkle in his eye sends a wave of ease over my body, so when he pushes inside of me I can enjoy every bit of him and not worry about a damn thing.

And I don’t.

Not as his tall body cradles me, wraps my legs around his torso, and I ride him in the chair.

Not as he picks me up and bends me over the kitchen counter.

Not as he parts my legs with his tongue and runs it over every inch of space I have between my thighs.

And definitely not as he stands behind me, gripping me and wrapping his arms around me like ribbons of sexual warmth and pleasure.

The bedroom I’ve been staying in is dark; I can still see the look in his eyes before he reaches ecstasy. It’s the clearest I’ve ever seen him. He buries himself in my hair and slows his hips into a rhythmic motion. Something comes over me, and suddenly it’s like I’m hungry for everything I can get my hands on…and I want it all.

My legs wrap around his body, and he follows my moves, lying on his back and letting me slide on top of him. I know I’ve slept with Jake, but to me…it’s my first time with anyone.

He’s not exactly small, either.

Somehow I know what to do and where to place my legs; he sits up and catches me, running his hands up my sides and breathing so hard that it makes easing back onto him much more tantalizing. I feel him getting close so I start moving up and down until he reaches for my neck and pulls me down to kiss his lips. As we both cry out at the same time, the room gets a little blurry, and it’s a few minutes before either of us can speak.

Jake brushes the hair from my face and kisses my lips again. He’s weak, but he’s waited so long for this that in his mind he’s ready to go again. I drink him in and hardly care that I’m sweaty and naked on top of a man I’m supposed to love and barely know.

Olivia! Stop ruining it for yourself!

“I love you so fucking much.” He tips his head back. “That was literally everything I thought it would be and more.”

My smile hurts my cheeks. “I’m glad I could help you out.”

He swiftly rolls over and tucks me underneath him, pulling out of me and not giving a damn that we didn’t use a condom and he never bothered asking me about birth control. Luckily, I’m just bad at remembering things from my past and not my present, and I’ve never missed a pill…even now that we’ve been living miles away from home for two weeks.

“Look at that,” he mutters, looking toward the window across from the bed. “We’ve been in here for hours…it’s already nightfall.”

I follow his eyes, and they lock onto the dusky night sky outside.

I know this didn’t fix Jake’s broken heart completely, but I’m open to trying now.

The blue skies are gone.

But the tattered heart remains.

Piece by piece, I’m going to help him mend it as I put the pieces of my life into place, too.

Right now, though, we’re exactly where we should be.

“Jake, tell me about my real mother.” We lie together, naked and both falling fast asleep. “What happened to her?”

He yawns and wraps himself around my body. “She disappeared about ten years ago.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but instead, he stays still and silent. He runs his thumb alongside the outer part of my hand as he holds it. When it gets too much to ignore and he can feel my resistance, he knows he can’t hold me off any longer.

“No one knows what really happened but Michael,” Jake adds, taking in a deep breath.

I purse my lips in the darkness. “She’s in my memories sometimes. Her name is Sabine; do you think we can find her?”

Jake shifts his weight to pull my body into his as much as it can fit. “We can try, baby.” The warmth of his whisper tickles the stray hands around my ear. “I’m sure she’d be proud of the woman you’ve become.”

The woman I’ve become.

Now that’s even more cruel.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Home

“Wake up, baby,” Jake whispers into my ear. “I have some good news, but you have to wake up to hear it.” His singsong voice isn’t something that’s comforting when you’re woken up from a deep sleep after having the best sex of your life. I’m hungover from a second round, and we didn’t bother getting dressed before we passed out from exhaustion.

I’m still naked.

Opening one eye, I see his boyish grin looking down at me; he’s also still naked. His tall body hunches over to look at me and make sure I’m awake before he playfully slaps my bare ass with pleasure. He starts to run his hand over where he spanked me, and I know I have to get out of this position or I’ll never get to hear the good news.

Rolling over isn’t a good idea, either. His hand lands directly in between my legs, and I have to snap them together and sit up before he can slip his fingers inside of me. Pouting, he retracts his hand back to his own space and acts offended.

“What’s the good news?” I smile brightly.

“Noah called me, one of my brothers?” He waits for me to catch up before continuing on. “Sam was arrested. He confessed to staging the entire break-in to scare you because…get this: He recognized you as Lacey Cervase and tried to get revenge for his older brother, who invested money with Michael.”

Without warning, I start to laugh. It grows and grows until it’s filling the entire room, and Jake looks at me like I’ve finally lost more than just memories. He waits for me to tone it down before raising his eyebrows at me. “What the hell was that?”

“People…” A hiccup leaves my throat. “People are so gross, Jake. I mean, seriously. What is wrong with people? Why are they such monsters?”

His jaw clenches. “Some people just can’t help themselves, Olivia.”

“I wasn’t talking about you. I don’t want to even think about that right now. The fact that I know what you did and I still slept with you speaks volumes about the person I’ve become.”

Jake laughs. “That’s my girl, always the first to point out the flaws in herself before anyone else.”

A lightbulb goes on in my head.

“I’m tired of chasing someone I used to be. I’m ready to just be myself, whoever I want that to be.” I wrap my arms around his neck and smile. “I’m ready to give being Olivia White a real chance.”

I jump off the bed and, to Jake’s disapproval, start putting on clothes. Not minding that he’s still stark naked—and it’s making me wet in the mouth to look at his tall, naked body sitting inches from me on the bed—he watches me like he’s seeing a movie for the very first time. I drop my t-shirt on the ground and he’s there within seconds to pick it up and hand it back to me with a sexy grin on his lips.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” he asks. “We have to wait for a flight to Seattle, baby.”

“I’m not in a hurry. I just want to get the day started.”

He laughs loudly. “You do realize it’s nearly noon, right?”

“Shit.” I look at the clock on the wall. “You let me sleep all day?”

“After what we did last night, we needed it.” He snorts and realizes that I’m serious. “Sorry, I didn’t know Noah would call with the good news or I would’ve gotten you up sooner.”

I make a disagreeing noise and leave him alone in the room to get himself dressed. I open the fridge and rummage around for something to drink. When I open the milk carton and tip the cool liquid back into my throat, Jake makes a disgusted face when he rounds the corner to see what I’m doing.

“Do you have to do that?” He smiles and takes the carton from me, putting it back into the fridge. “When we move back home, you have to stop that.”

Home.

There’s that word again.

Jake notices my reservation about the word and takes a step backward to give me some space. Once his body hits the island cabinet, he hops up on it and looks down at me with concern in his brown eyes. I can’t meet his gaze for long or I’m going to fall into his trap of cinnamon and whiskey and whatever else he’s going to use against my already weak defenses.

Jake Redding is a part of me and he knows it.

“Do you want to talk about that?” His head cocks to the side. “Going home and what that means?”

My hair falls around my face, and I don’t bother pushing it away. I want to hide…no. I want to run and hide and be a baby about this. I don’t want to face reality and what that means. I know I’m going to have to choose between Seattle and Silver Lake, and ultimately that means I’m going to have to choose between being with Jake or…not being with him.

I sigh. “I can pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that isn’t fair to you.” He smiles because what I’m saying is true. “I don’t know how to not confuse you when I’m still so confused, you know?”

“Bug,” he breathes out his air so fast it blows my hair back a little. “What you have to understand is that I’ll do whatever you want to do. If you tell me to fuck off, then that’s the way it is. If you want to be with me in Seattle, same thing. I can’t expect you to have the same exact feelings you had before when you don’t even know yourself from before.”

Well, okay.

“And I hope to fucking God you don’t tell me to kick rocks, but if you do, I’ll find a way to deal with it. I’m a grown man and I can take care of myself, but make no mistake…” He slides off of the counter and bends his neck to look into my eyes, careful not to touch me and spark something else between us. “You keep me alive in ways even I don’t understand. I need you and I want you, but I love you enough to see that you need some time and space.”

“Jake…” I instinctively take a step toward him. “It’s just hard to know how I feel when my mind feels like a bumper car arena and no one knows how to drive.”

A smile creeps on his thick lips. “I know, baby.” He kisses my forehead, and I think he’s going to wrap me in his long arms and make everything okay like he does…but instead, he opens the fridge and takes out a carton of orange juice. After eyeballing me and dramatically taking a glass from the cabinet, he pours the orange liquid into the glass and takes a big, comical gulp.

My eyes narrow at him. “Really funny you are.”

His laugh is so innocent that it humbles me back where I should be. I’m getting into my own head again, and that’s going to lead me down a path I don’t want to be on anymore.

I want this.

I remember that I want this.

I really, really want his orange juice lips on mine.

Now.

“Olivia?” he says my name wrapped up in confusion. I focus on his lips and the sexy, wicked smile that’s painted on them as he realizes what I’m coming after. Jake will never push me away, and that’s something I can count on. His body freezes with the fridge still open, the dark ink of his tattoos reaching out from the skin that I see around his t-shirt. I run my gaze over each of the tattoos that I know are mine—or made because of me—and that excites me more.

Jake’s body is a road map of my life.

He moans as I touch him; I run my fingers up his neck and around the back of his head so I can gently tug him down to kiss me. Our lips meet, and it’s different this time: he’s hungrier than he’s ever been, and this is going to be trouble. As he devours my mouth, he lifts me up onto the counter and parts my legs with his body like he belongs there.

He does belong there.

“You are so fucking intoxicating,” he breathes into my mouth. “Everything about you sets me off.”

I giggle, and it’s not a normal Olivia giggle. This one is more sweet, sultry, and laced with poison that plays to Jake’s emotions. He squeezes my thighs and groans as his phone starts ringing in the next room. Of course he wants to ignore it, but I can’t let that happen. I have to get out of this condo and back to a life I’m at least a little familiar with.

“No, don’t move,” he warns me and points playfully at my nose. “I’ll get that. You. Don’t. Move.”

He runs off to grab his ringing phone. He doesn’t bother coming back as he answers it, but the tone of his voice carries into the kitchen, and it kills my good mood.

“Yeah, we’re coming back as soon as we can. I’ll tell Olivia to get packed up.”

“Yes, her name is Olivia now. That’s what we call her.”

“No.”

“Okay, fine. If we fly, we can be back by morning. We’re in L.A.—can you set up the flight?”

“Thanks. Bye.”

I find him in the bedroom with his head in his hands. It takes a few seconds for me to decide what I’m going to do, but my fingers find the back of his head and I gently play with his curly hair to let him know I’m here for him.

“Hey, we have to leave soon.”

“I heard. Is everything okay?”

When he looks at me, there’s wetness forming in the corners of his eyes. “Michael has been cleared for visitors. He’s asking for you.”

The stress forms lines on Jake’s forehead as he crinkles it and thinks. It’s my job—as whatever I am to Jake—to help take some of the burden from him. I’m not a fragile little bird; I have to think of something I can do to help him without making things worse.

“We should pack up. Take things you need and I’ll send for the rest.” His low voice finds me through our darkness. “It’s time to head home.”

Home.

Where everything is going to change.

Again.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Prison blues

“You okay?” Jake snickers as the small plane lands on an even smaller runway. He sure doesn’t spare any expense when it comes to air travel. One of his brothers—Tyler or Noah or whoever—arranged for a private plane to carry us from L.A. to Seattle. It seemed like days that we were in the air, but when Jake unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me into his lap to sleep, time sped up; before I knew it we were about to land and he’d placed me back in my seat with my buckle returned to its place around my body.

I stretch my body. “I’ve never flown anywhere before.”

He stretches his long legs out in front of him and yawns. “After all this bullshit is over, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. We need a proper vacation.”

I want to be like Jake.

I want to try and wash away all the bad things happening around us to make room for the good things we can dream about. I want to be careless and aloof and see the brighter side to life. I want to be free from the chains that drag me down into a deep abyss of confusion.

But I’m still Olivia White.

I worry.

I try and fix what’s broken.

“I’m ready to visit Michael.”

Jake nods. “I figured as much. Noah’s already called ahead to let them know you’ll be arriving soon. Visiting hours aren’t over for a few more hours.”

My hand fits perfectly in his as he leads me down the staircase and onto the tarmac. A car waits for us several feet from the plane, and a short man with a black suit on smiles and nods toward me as he opens the door for Jake to place me inside.

The drive from Seattle to SeaTac is exciting and new for me. Deep down I know I belong here, but I bask in the sensation of seeing things for the first time. The high-rise buildings and bustling city streets are much different than the suburbs of Silver Lake. I like the busyness of the people walking around with important things to get to and places to go. It makes me feel like I’m not standing still anymore.

“Ready?” Jake pats my leg and sighs. “We’re here.”

“Where?” I crane my neck to see through the window on his side of the car. The gigantic prison looms over us, casting a shadow over the car. “Is that it?”

“That’s it. The Fed-Pen,” the driver of the car says. “You want me to wait, man?”

Jake hands the man two hundred-dollar bills. “Wait for us, yes. I’ll double that when we come out.” The driver looks impressed and clicks his seat back a few notches, ready to settle in. Jake sticks his hands in his pockets and pulls everything out but returns his wallet to his front jeans pocket. “Make sure you don’t have anything but your ID on you when we go through security.”

“Like what?” My voice shakes. “Like weapons?”

“Anything that can be considered a weapon, Bug. All you’ll need is your ID, that’s it.”

I follow his directions and hand over a tube of cherry ChapStick, rolled-up earbuds, several pieces of wrapped hard candy and a folded-up note. “What’s this?” He holds up the paper and shakes it.

Playfully, I shrug. “Open it later and find out.”

He blushes and takes his wallet back out, placing the paper inside before putting it into his jeans again. He takes off his motorcycle jacket—no doubt because of all the zippers and metal detector triggers—leaving it in the backseat.

“Earrings, baby.” He points to my ears. I take them off and hand them over—the same with my necklace and mood ring too. When we’ve got everything packed way in our luggage, Jake reminds the driver of their deal and takes my hand.

The prison haunts me already; the slate gray pavement beneath my feet tricks me into thinking it’s moving so I’m frozen where I stand. Without saying a word, Jake runs back to the luggage and retrieves a headache pill and small bottle of water.

“Thanks.” I take the pill and swallow it down before sipping the water. “This is gonna be stressful enough without having an earth-shattering headache in there.”

“Take a deep breath, baby,” Jake coos. “You can do this. I’m going in with you.”

“I thought he only asked for me?”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Security isn’t as awful as I pictured in my mind; thankfully Jake knew not to take anything but our IDs in so the process went smoothly. We’re escorted down a few hallways before coming to a stop in an open metal doorway without a door attached.

The deputy escorting us frowns. “You have twenty minutes with inmate #4982-C0541.” He looks at the paper hanging on the wall next to the doorway to make sure he has the right number. “There’s a deputy in the room and the inmate is shackled for your safety. There will be no touching and that includes: no hugging, no holding hands, no kissing, no physical contact of any kind. You will sit across from the inmate and keep your hands folded in front of you. You will not raise your voice; you will not give the inmate anything. You will not agitate the inmate, and you will not sneak anything out of the prison. Do you both understand me?”

Jake nods. “We get it.”

“Miss?”

“Sounds pretty self-explanatory.”

The deputy’s frown deepens. “You would think so, Miss. You are free to enter; the twenty minutes starts now. I will be back for a three-minute warning.”

I waste two minutes standing in the doorway, deciding if I really want to go in.

Eighteen minutes left.

“Baby, are you going in?” Jake whispers.

My legs start to move, and they carry me through the threshold of the doorway. The room is small and sterile; a metal table sits in the middle with three metal chairs. The man with the gray hair from my dreams sits with sadness in his cold gray eyes as he watches me approach him.

“Sweetheart,” he greets me. “How are you, Lacey?”

This is the first time anyone’s every greeted me by that name directly; I admit, it doesn’t feel good. His accent is soft around his voice when he speaks; his voice is weak and tired.

“Jacob.” He nods at Jake. “I asked to speak to my daughter alone, yet here you are. Why am I not surprised? You don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you?”

My head hurts; the pill isn’t helping me.

“Don’t.” My throat is dry; it’s hard to swallow and not choke on the dry air. “Don’t speak to him like that. If you want me to stay, you don’t talk to him like that.”

Michael nods. “Have it your way, then. I understand you’ve started gaining memories back?”

“Some of them.”

“That’s fantastic. The doctors said it wasn’t likely you’d recover. What’s changed?”

Finally, I sit down across from him. Jake continues to stand; he places his hand on my shoulder for comfort. “I started having headaches and dreams. Then Jake found me, and I figured out the truth.”

Michael hangs his head. “I’m truthfully sorry about how things have turned out, love. I never meant for anything like this—”

“Is this why you wanted to see me? To plead your case?”

He looks surprised. The lines on his face are darker than in my dreams; the time he’s spent in prison hasn’t agreed with him. He was never a large man, but being in this place…he’s withered into almost nothing.

“I wanted to see you because you’re my daughter. And yes, maybe I wanted to plead my case…not for forgiveness, but for you to understand this was never my intention.”

“People never intend to hurt other people, Dad.” The words come out of my mouth before I realize it. It doesn’t feel wrong so I don’t correct myself. “You out of all people should understand that.”

Fourteen minutes left.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The deputy in the corner pretends that he’s not listening, but we both know it’s part of his job. Jake still stands next to me and squeezes my shoulder as Michael narrows his cold eyes at me, waiting for me to explain myself.

“Where’s Sabine?”

A fire rages in my head, and he comes in and out of focus.

“Is she okay? What’s happening to her?” Michael frantically calls out. “Jake, what’s going on?”

Jake sits down next to me and brushes back hair from my face. He places a hand in the air for the deputy to stand down from tending to me. “Do you need to leave?”

“No, we still have twelve minutes.”

His hands find my shoulders, and he massages them to relieve some tension. “The headaches she has, they aren’t normal headaches. They incapacitate her sometimes.”

Michael frowns. “Oh, Lacey—”

“My name is Olivia.” I correct him. “Olivia White.”

“Right.” The shackles on his arms and legs clink together. “If I tell you about your mother, will you promise that you’ll come and visit me again?”

“Just tell her about her mother,” Jake snarls.

My head starts to throb, and it’s only moments from exploding. “I promise.”

Jake looks over at me with worried eyes. “Olivia, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I’ll come back and visit you.” I turn back to Jake and frown. “Twenty minutes isn’t enough to get through want I need to get through.”

Eight minutes left.

“Sabine lives in Maryville, just under an hour north from here. Her name is Sabine Christensen now, and Lacey—sorry, Olivia—don’t be alarmed if you don’t get the answers you’re looking for. Your mother is a very…complicated woman.”

Jake snorts. “Complicated woman? That’s a nice way of saying she’s bat-shit crazy.”

“More like an emotionless robot.”

The deputy from before returns to the open doorway, and it’s our three-minute warning.

“Olivia.” The way Michael says my name sounds like a made-up word. “Don’t forget to come back and visit me. I’ll be here for the next ten years, eight with good behavior. I want to tell you everything, love; I can’t make up for what I’ve done, but I can help you with your memory.”

One minute left.

Michael starts to move his hands toward mine but decides against it. “I love you. You are the most beautiful and perfect daughter a father could ever ask for. I’m sorry you’ve had such a shit life, and even as much as I hate that Jake is here with you, he’s the only one that can take care of you the way you need to be. He’s always been that rock for you no matter how much I tried to stop it.”

“Sounds like a compliment.” Jake’s eyebrows rise.

“Time to go, guys.” The deputy peeks his head inside. “Thirty seconds.”

“I love you, Olivia.” Tears fall down Michael’s cheeks. “Always remember that I love you.”

Jake kisses the side of my head and stands up, walking toward the door to give me ten seconds of privacy.

“I love you too.” I’m surprised the words came from my mouth. “I don’t forgive you, but I don’t hate you, okay?”

He chuckles through his tears. “Okay, love. You let Jake take care of you. That boy loves you more than I’ve ever seen anyone love another person. He’d do anything for you.”

“You have no idea.” I smile. “Take care of yourself, Dad.”

Jake reaches out for my hand and turns back to nod at Michael. There’s a level of peace inside of me that resonates until we go back through security and slip into the backseat of the cab. The headache that pounded against my skull has faded into nothing.

After giving the driver the address of his house, Jake leans back and wraps his arm around me before pulling me into his chest.

“Let’s go home,” I say. “I’m ready to go home.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Carnival

Jake

The woman that flutters around me in our bedroom at the Seattle house is someone I never thought I’d lay eyes on again. Olivia isn’t just the girl I used to love…she’s the woman I can’t fucking live without. We’ve only been back in Seattle a few days—and the first day was a little rocky—but I can’t help thinking that we don’t belong here.

Olivia doesn’t belong here.

I can’t be without her.

Laughing as she takes silly selfies of herself with the new phone I got her, she pulls her body onto mine and sits in my lap in the green, oversized armchair next to the fireplace. My dick gets hard thinking about the night before and the amazing sex we had on this very chair, but I can’t be inside of her every single moment of every single day.

No matter how fucking badly I want to be.

“Smile!” She giggles and presses our cheeks together. We both look into the camera, and I plaster the biggest, warmest smile on my face I can muster. The bullshit with my mother and Olivia’s father is weighing down on me, but I can’t—and won’t—let her see me worry about it. It’s over, but it never really fucking feels like it’s over.

After inspecting the picture and smiling in acceptance, she places the phone down on the table next to us and takes my head into her hands.

“Jake Redding, you need to stop worrying so much.” She crinkles her adorable nose. “Haven’t I told you a hundred times that you have nothing to worry about?”

I sigh and pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her curves. “I don’t want to think about that. Let’s do something fun.” A wicked smile spreads on my face as she swats me away, and we both laugh the biggest, purest laugh we have. “I don’t mean sex, although I’d never turn that down.”

“There’s the city carnival downtown.” She holds up a flyer. “I saw this in the phone store earlier today. Wanna go?”

I make a sour face. “Sorry, baby. Clowns really aren’t my thing.”

Snuggling her body into my lap, she places her head over my heart. “Please? We could be that really cheesy couple that runs around to all the games and you can try to win me the biggest, most ridiculous stuffed animal they have.”

My eyebrows rise. “Are we a couple, then? We haven’t really talked about that.”

Her thighs tighten around my legs, and the only thing I want right now is to thrust upward—

“I thought we were.” She laughs and pushes her lips onto mine. “Let’s not dance around the subject like middle schoolers, okay? I want to exclusively be with you.” She playfully gags and kisses my cheek.

I play with her silky, dark brown hair between my fingers. “Okay, then, we won’t dance around it. You’re mine, and that’s that.” The softness of her skin underneath my fingertips entices me into a dark place I really don’t need to be right now for both our sakes. She does things to me that even I don’t fully understand.

I can stay like this forever.

Touching her is lethal to my mind, though.

One touch and everything’s done and over with for me when it comes to her.

I close my eyes. “If it means that much to you, we can go to the carnival.”

“Really?” She jumps off my lap. It takes everything I have not to reach out and grab her to pull her back into my vortex again. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower and get ready.”

And she’s gone.

I’m left alone in the bedroom to worry. Just because Sam’s crazy fucking ass got picked up doesn’t mean it’s over. In order for him to pay for what he’s done, she’ll have to go back to Silver Lake and testify against him. I told Neal to take care of it, but that’s the way it has to fucking be, and I haven’t had the heart to tell her yet. She shouldn’t have to face her attacker a second time.

“Jake!” Her voice squeaks with fear from the bathroom. “Come here, hurry!” Several quick emotions wash over me, and I half-expect to see someone standing in there with her but she’s alone.

Catching my breath, I look at her sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her feet extended in the air.

“What’s wrong?” I look around the room.

She dramatically points toward the opposite corner from where she is. “There’s a spider!”

I see the small spider where she’s pointing, and a warm feeling washes over me. Without hesitation, I swoop down and grab the insect and rush it downstairs and outside. Normally, I would’ve smashed the shit out of it, but with Olivia watching, this was the better thing for her to see me do. When I return to her, she’s started the shower, and the steam tickles my nose when I enter the bathroom.

“It’s gone, baby.”

The door to the shower opens, and her wet head sticks out. “Thanks, he surprised me. You probably think I’m such a baby for that.”

I shrug. “It helps that you’re cute.”

Her smile widens, and she returns to the shower before letting me see her blush. Oh, but I fucking know she’s blushing in that steamy shower…naked and wet and…

I have to get the hell out of here.

After sniffing myself to make sure I can dress without showering, I’m dressed in jeans and a sweater, and I pull on my boots while I’m waiting for her to enter the room. I think about how she’s going to walk back in to me…will she be naked? Wrapped up in a towel? Wet and inviting?

Jesus.

Take a deep breath, Jake.

There she is.

“Sorry, I didn’t take any clothes in with me.” She blushes, and her naked, wet body glides across the room. Her tits bounce as she walks, making my mouth water because my lips want to suction themselves around her erect nipples. Her skin is so damn soft it makes my brain melt inside my skull, and it’s really, really fucking hard not to touch her as she passes me several times. First, she pulls on panties and hides her ass from me. Next, she clasps a bra around her tits so I can’t see those anymore, either. Finally, the jeans and silky olive-green blouse clutch against her skin, and everything I dream about is hidden from me.

But that’s perfectly fine.

I know it’s all mine and only for me.

“Jake?” A giggle wraps around her voice. “You okay?”

I lick my lips. “Fine. I’m fine. Ready?”

She nods and pulls on her sneakers, ready to go. The innocent smile on her lips humbles me as I grab the keys—and grab her hand—ready to get into the car and go to the carnival.

I go because she wants to go; I go because I love her, and if going to a carnival makes her happy, then we’ll stay there all night until she’s had enough.

I still really don’t fucking like clowns, though.

The bright lights of the carnival invite us into the parking lot, even though it’s midday and sunny. I park the car and run around to her side to let her out like a gentleman; she notices and kisses me on the cheek; everything around us just seems so sweet and simple that it’s hard to realize that it’s not. Our lives aren’t sweet and simple, we have forces working against us, and it pisses me off that anyone could want to even hurt Olivia at all. My mind wanders to Sam and how he tried to hurt her, but I took care of that, and she’ll never know what happened if I can help it.

“Oh, look!” She squeals with delight and tugs me toward a row of striped covered booths where the carnival games are. By the time we’ve played the area three times over, she’s got an arm full of stuffed animals and a wide smile on her face. “I’m hungry. What should we do with these?” she asks, holding up her prizes. “Should we find some kids and give them away?”

“I don’t think walking up to random children and giving them toys is acceptable, baby.” I laugh and take the car keys from my pocket. “I’ll run them to the car and we can donate them to a hospital or something tomorrow. You go ahead and figure out what you want to eat, and I’ll be back.”

It takes me less than five minutes to get to the car and back.

But now she’s gone.

Vanished.

***

Olivia

Reading every sign for every food truck at the carnival is a task. My stomach grumbles as I walk past the root beer floats and cotton candy stand, and then the funnel cake takes my nose on an entirely different ride. The scents of the carnival food trigger my brainwaves and send them into a frenzy.

Hold on.

Something isn’t right.

My head hurts a little, and my vision gets hazy, so I find a picnic table and sit down. I’m sure Jake will come looking for me soon, so staying put will be my best option. I can’t see five feet in front of me without my eyes watering. I hold my head in my hands, and it feels like something is snapping like firecrackers in my brain. The bright lights are affecting me more now; my brain feels like it’s slamming against my skull so it can escape.

“Livvie?” a familiar voice says. “Hey, Liv, are you okay?”

I squint up at them.

Brant!

“What—what are you doing here?” My mouth manages to move, but it hurts my head worse.

He leans down and gets eye level with me while the girl he’s with scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. “She’s my friend,” he says to her and brushes the hair from my face. “Hey, Liv? Can you hear me?” He raises his voice, but all I can do is fall into his chest and groan in pain. Without saying anything else, Brant lifts me up and starts to carry me against him with his date in tow. I need to tell him that Jake is here and he’s going to be looking for me, but I can’t open my mouth to speak because I’m in so much pain.

A man in a uniform stops us and asks questions that Brant can’t really answer.

“What’s wrong with her?” the man demands.

“She’s my friend, and I found her like this. She has head issues, I think,” Brant answers.

“What’s her name then?”

“Olivia White.”

The man in uniform steps closer and raises his voice. “Olivia? Olivia White?”

I’m able to raise my head enough off Brant’s chest to acknowledge my own name, so the man is satisfied and steps back to his original stance.

“Does she need an ambulance?”

Brant shifts his weight to hold me better. “Man, I don’t know, okay? I literally walked up and found her like this. I can take her if you’d just let us go.”

After a few seconds, the man steps aside and lets Brant carry me out of the carnival and into the parking lot. “I’m glad I found you, Liv. What are you doing in Seattle? Where’ve you been for the past few months?”

I groan so loudly that people walking into the carnival stop to stare. “Jake.” I let his name escape my lips. “Jake is here.”

Brant stops and looks around. “Where’s Jake?”

“My…Jake.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I have a phone in my pocket.”

Brant finds his car and places me gently inside. Nervously looking down at me, he fishes inside my jeans pockets for my phone and pulls it out. “Okay, let’s call Jake.” He breathes in and out deeply before making the call.

I hear Jake’s booming voice on the phone as Brant speaks to him. Seconds later, he comes bolting from the carnival with fear oozing all over the pavement as he skids on his knees to pull me close. “I was so fucking scared. What happened?” He looks up at Brant for answers, and I let him tell Jake whatever he wants because my head hurts so badly that I can’t stop him.

“Can you drive us to the hospital?” Jake asks him.

Brant agrees and gets into the driver’s seat while his date slides in next to him in the passenger seat. Jake tucks me inside fully and climbs into the car, but before Brant can start it and pull out of the parking lot, something snaps inside my head, and the pain drifts away to the point where I can stand to open my eyes without burning my eyeballs up.

“Wait.” I breathe heavily and blink a few times. “We don’t have to go to the hospital. I’m fine.”

Jake shakes his head. “No, you’re not. You need to go—”

“I don’t want to go,” I growl at him and narrow my eyes. “I said I’m fine. Let me out.”

Before Brant can fully stop the car, I jump out, and Jake follows me. Brant gets out to watch, but his date has had enough drama and chooses to sulk inside the car. After catching up with me and swinging me around to face him, the fear in his eyes fades; he brushes my hair back from my face to get a good look at me.

“It’s just a headache.” I swat him away. “That’s all. Let’s go back to the carnival.”

For a few seconds, I know he wants to argue with me. I know he wants to take control and whisk me away to get my head checked out, but the pain has gone away and my vision is coming back piece by piece. Even the dark edges of my life tattoos on his skin look brighter than before when my vision fully shifts back into a normal state.

Jake sighs and looks back at Brant, who shrugs his shoulders and places his arms on the top of his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he says when he looks back down at me. “Maybe we should just go back home and rest.”

“I’m fine, okay? I’m lucky Brant found me—”

Brant comes around his car and stands next to Jake. He’s not much smaller than him, and Jake’s copper blonde curls swaying with the light breeze and Brant’s sunshine-colored shaggy hair make them look like long-lost brothers. Jake crosses his arms over his chest, and Brant shoves his into his pockets. But they both have looks of concern on their faces.

“You were basically unresponsive, Liv,” Brant says. “I had to carry you out of there.”

“I know that. I was there. It was just a headache.”

They look at each other again as if they are silently having a conversation about my life. They don’t get to decide what I do. Only I do. “Look.” I put a smile on my face although my head still feels a little fuzzy. “Let’s all go back into the carnival and eat some food. I need food. Feed me, Jake.” I smile devilishly and bite my bottom lip. “Feed me.”

He knows this isn’t fair, but he takes the bait anyway. “Fine, but afterward if you feel funny at all, you’re going to the hospital.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake blushes and takes my hand before turning to Brant. “Thank you for looking after her. I’m lucky someone found her that cares for her. Can we treat you and your date to a dinner of carnival food as a thank you?”

Brant laughs and looks back at his car, and it’s empty. “Well, looks like she hightailed it out of here, so if you don’t mind me being the third wheel…”

Jake pats him on the shoulder. “Park the car and we’ll wait for you.”

The camaraderie between them is heartwarming, and for the next two hours we hit every food booth in the carnival, and our time together ends in laughter and friendship. Brant drove up to Seattle from Silver Lake because his date—who took a cab back to her parents’ house in town—grew up here and wanted to come back for the carnival.

I never knew Jake could be such a loving and warm person to someone he used to see as a threat, but he’s changed. I mean really, really changed. The scary person I met again months ago just isn’t there anymore.

Maybe—somehow—I managed to fix him after all.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Phoenix

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jake’s eyebrows rise. “Baby, just because I have tattoos doesn’t mean you need to mess up your perfect body and perfect skin…” He kisses my fingers one by one. “I’m not saying don’t do it. I’m just saying…think about it.”

I’m already sitting in the chair at the tattoo parlor, ready to go.

“Jake, I’m doing this. Now help me figure out what I’m getting. What about a unicorn?”

He frowns and makes a gagging sound. “I wouldn’t be able to have sex with you staring at unicorn.” He pretends to shiver; he laughs as I smack his shoulder because it’s the only part of him I can quickly reach.

“A unicorn it is, then.”

“It’s a good thing I’m in love with you or else you’d be in so much trouble for your little fucking attitude,” he growls in my ear. “You have two hours before your appointment with Dr. Ross. You better choose something.”

The pictures and sketches on the wall are all amazing, but not for me. The black binders next to me have one-of-a-kind artwork, but none of that speaks to me either. Jake reaches his long arms for another book, letting my hand fall and brush against his inner thigh on purpose.

“Nice.” I snort. “Classy you are.”

He shrugs and pretends to be innocent. The next book he hands me is smaller than the rest and purple instead of black. The pages are thicker and the designs are darker and more eclectic. Jake points to a few as I pass them, but once I turn the next page over, the dark red and black lines of a palm-sized phoenix call to me.

“That’s the one.” My fingers hit the plastic over the page. “A phoenix gets reborn from ashes. It’s perfect.”

Jake’s brown eyes find mine and soften. “Have I mentioned how proud I am of you for coming this far? You’re pretty fucking remarkable, Olivia White.”

“Oh, my first and last name, you must mean business.”

His sexy laugh sends chills down my spine. “Oh, I think I’ve more than proven that I mean serious business when it comes to you.” He presses his lips on mine and gently parts them. The tattoo artist knocks on the door, and we quickly part; Jake rubs my lip gloss from his lips as the man enters the room and introduces himself.

“I’m Romero. Did you find one you like?” His long, dark braided beard ends at his chest. I show him the phoenix, and he nods. “That’s one of my brand-new ones, good choice. Shouldn’t take too long. You stayin’, man?”

Jake takes his phone from his pocket. “Are you okay if I run a few errands?”

“What errands could you possibly have in Silver Lake?”

“You’ll see.” He winks. “If you want me to stay, I will. It’s your first one, baby.”

I wave him off. “Go run your errands.”

“Take good care of my girl.” Jake kisses my forehead and leaves the room as Romeo salutes him. He’s gone the entire time it takes to put the bird on my shoulder—where I finally decided I wanted it—and when he steps back into the room, he examines Romero’s work and smiles.

“That’s really fucking amazing,” he compliments the artist. “Maybe I’ll stop in before we leave town and get a new one. Thanks, man.”

Romero nods and pats my other shoulder. “I’ll meet you up front and get you a few things, okay?”

Jake helps me up from the chair and wraps his arms around my waist. “We only have twenty minutes to get to Dr. Ross’ office. You ready?”

“I’m ready. I’m glad I did this before we went there. I already feel more in control of my life.”

He lightly kisses my lips. “I’m glad you decided to keep going by Olivia…I think it’s sexy. I also think that tattoo is sexy. It’s turning me on.”

“Jake,” I warn him. “You just said we have twenty minutes to make it to Dr. Ross. We can’t—”

The fire in his eyes reaches for me and consumes whatever defense I have.

“What if Romero comes back in?” His body pushes me against the wall next to the door. Spreading my legs apart, he unzips his jeans and puts me gently on my feet. His fingers find the clasp of my jeans and unhooks them, roughly pulling them from my legs and onto the floor.

He turns me to face the wall, and a package crinkles behind me. With one hand, he grips my hair; he wraps it around his hand and pulls, making my head tip backward. A satisfied grunt comes from his throat as he kisses the side of my neck and spreads my legs with his, pushing himself inside of me.

My moans echo in the room; it’s a wonder no one comes rushing in to see what we’re doing in here. With each deep thrust Jake pushes inside of me, the world melts more around us.

“Jesus, Olivia.” He breathes heavily and starts to thrust into me so hard that the wall starts to shake. It’s not until he carries me to the chair and sits down with my back against his chest that my eyes can focus again. My body bounces against him, and he clutches my sides, pushing me up and down to his pleasure. Jake cries out into my naked shoulder and wraps his arms around me for a few minutes to catch his breath and let his heart rate slow down.

My throat is dry; I half-expect puffs of smoke to come out when I speak. “We’re definitely going to be late for my appointment.”

***

Dr. Ross sits in his chair and waits for me to enter the room. The disappointment he feels is apparent as he continuously checks the clock on the wall. “You’re late.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” My fingers smooth over my hair one more time; Jake and I paid for my tattoo and raced across town just to still be fifteen minutes late. “This won’t take long.”

“I hear your dreams were true after all. Are you here to ask if I knew?”

The familiar squeaky brown leather sofa is probably the only thing I’ll miss about coming to this place. Dr. Ross doesn’t have his signature yellow notepad this time; I guess that’s something I’ll miss too.

“Did you know?”

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid I didn’t. Although, if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you.”

“I know that. I wouldn’t blame you if you kept it from me. I know you were just doing your job. Which is why I’m here.”

“You want to try being hypnotized again.”

My cheeks flush. “Is that okay?”

Dr. Ross smiles and pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Tell me everything first and then we’ll see what we can do. What exactly did you find out, Olivia?”

I take a deep breath and tell Dr. Ross the entire story from beginning to end. I start with moving to the house across from Jake when I was nine and end with getting my phoenix tattoo—I leave out the sex with Jake part. By time I’m finished, it’s been over an hour, and Dr. Ross sits on the edge of his seat like he’s watching an intense movie.

“Good Lord.” His hands cover his mouth slightly. “How are you dealing with everything? Let’s talk about that.”

“I’m just taking one day at a time. Jake’s been a big help, and he’s been really patient with me.”

He shakes his head. “You truly are a remarkable young woman.”

“Can we try hypnosis now? Jake’s waiting for me, and it’s a long drive back to Seattle.”

Once he’s set up and puts me into a sleep, it’s hard to focus on a single memory since I’ve been storing so many in my brain. What was once empty is now starting to fill.

***

“What are we doing here, Mom?”

Sabine puts her finger to her lips and shushes me. She told me we were going shopping for school supplies, but instead she’s dragged me by my hair into an old office building that smells like moldy cheese. She pushes me down into a cold metal chair and points her skinny finger in my face.

“Stay fucking put. Don’t move. Understand me, Lacey?”

I nod. “Yes, Mom.”

“If you move one fucking muscle, you’ll regret it.”

“Yes, Mom.”

She straightens her blouse. “Good. I’ll be right back.”

She’s gone for hours. No one comes into the building, and no one leaves. I’m alone, and there’s nothing I can do but stare at the white walls and walk around the empty offices. When darkness starts to fall outside, I search the rest of the building for her.

She’s not here.

She left me.

I wait another hour and realize she’s really gone.

The air outside is warm, and it makes me thirsty as I start to walk in the dark along streets I’ve never been to before. I don’t know where I am; I don’t know where she left me. A few car lights pass me by so quickly that water splashes on me from small puddles created by the light rain earlier today.

“You lost, little girl?” a woman screeches from somewhere in front of me.

I think I’m imagining things.

“Hey, you there!”

My legs start to pound against the pavement, and I run as fast as I can. There’s woods around me now, and strange sounds come from the trees. I walk forever; my feet hurt when I reach a diner on the side of the road.

Starlight Drive-In, the sign says.

The door is hard to push open, but I manage to get it far enough to fall inside. Several chairs scoot across the floor after I hit the hard floor; several pairs of hands reach for me and lift me into the air like their savior. It’s hard to focus on who says what, but they shove a straw in my mouth and the cold water trickles down my throat, reviving me enough to shift my eyes around.

The waitress wears a pink dress and white apron.

The truck driver’s hat is green and says, “Truckers do it better.”

The man in the suit has hair like Dad.

Dad.

“I need to call my dad.”

The waitress—her nametag says Bev—sits down across from me. “Sweetheart, you just fell into our door at one a.m. What’s your name, baby?”

Her southern accent is nice and welcoming.

“Lacey.”

“What are you doin’ out here this late at night, Lacey?”

I don’t want to tell on Mom; she’ll get in trouble.

“I ran away from home.”

“And now you wanna call your dad to come get you?”

I drink more water and drum my fingers on the table. “Yes, please.”

“Do you know his number?”

I nod. “I know it. Do you have a phone I can use?”

Bev gestures toward the bar, and a white table phone sits on the end. All eyes are on me as I scoot from the booth and reach it, dial Dad’s number, and he doesn’t answer. I call him four times before he picks up and snarls. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Daddy.” I start to cry. “Can you come and get me?”

“Lacey? Sweetheart, where are you? I thought you were with Mom?”

If I tell him what happened…

…I can’t lie my way out of this one.

“She took me to a building and left me there. I walked a long time and ended up at this diner. I don’t know where I am. I’m scared, Daddy.”

Michael inhales and exhales slowly. “Is there an adult around?”

“The waitress, her name is Bev.”

“Very good, darling. Put Miss Bev on the phone and you sit down and order whatever you’d like, all right? I’m on my way to get you.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Lacey?”

“Yes?”

“Be a brave girl for me, okay? This is the last time your mother will ever hurt you, I promise. I’m sorry I let you down. I’ll always protect you from now on. You can count on me.”

I wave Bev over and hand her the phone; I go back to the booth and open the menu, looking at my choice just like Dad said. When she hangs up the phone and returns to me, there’s sadness on her face, and I know Dad told her everything.

“How about some chocolate chip pancakes, whipped cream, warm maple syrup, and a sundae? Your daddy will be a few hours.”

The truck driver and man in the suit go back to their own booths but keep a close eye on me as Bev tousles my hair and runs off to get my goodies. My stomach is so full that I can’t finish the sundae, and I feel myself starting to drift to sleep.

The man in the suit takes off his jacket and wraps it around me; I lie down in the booth and sleep until the bell on the door rings and I feel Dad’s arms around me. He thanks everyone and cradles me in his arms. Bev whispers a goodbye to me and tells Dad she’ll pray for him. He thanks her and takes me back out into the dark early morning and places me in the backseat of his car.

“Hey Lacey Bug,” I hear Jake whisper.

“Jake?” I yawn and find his shoulder, snuggling into it. He wraps a blanket around us and leans his head back onto the headrest, returning Dad’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Let’s go home, kids,” Dad says and pulls the car onto the dark roads.

Jake holds my hand under the blanket. “What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“Your dad called my mom and asked her if I could come with him. He thought you might need me right now.”

I smile. “I always need you, Jake. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, Lacey. You should go to sleep. We can talk about everything tomorrow.”

I kiss his cheek, and his arm rests on my shoulders.

“I’ll never need anyone more than you, Lacey Bug.”

***

Dr. Ross makes me promise to come back and spend more sessions with them when I can. I don’t have the heart to tell him Jake and I plan to move away from Seattle someday.

Jake waits for me in the car; he’s talking on the phone but hangs up when he sees me emerge from the doctor’s office with a pale face and wet eyes.

“What happened?” he asks when I get into the car. “Olivia, what—”

“You never told me how you and Michael came to get me when my mom left me in the middle of nowhere.”

Jake’s face pales. “I didn’t want you to know. I’d hoped that memory wouldn’t come back.”

“You can’t do that. You can’t pick and choose what you want me to remember, Jake. It doesn’t work like that. I don’t want any more surprises, okay?”

“Okay, Bug.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Let’s go home. We have a long drive. You can make it up to me.”

“I’ll never stop trying, baby.” He smirks and starts the car, heading for Seattle. “You don’t want to visit your parents or Caitlyn while you’re here?”

“They’ve already moved back to Seattle for now. I think they’re moving to the East Coast.”

He knows I want to leave Silver Lake and never look back.

And I don’t.

The red phoenix that glitters on my shoulder made me feel better for the first few days that things started to settle down, but honestly, nothing has really been settled. Just because I know that I’m not crazy to think I’m living someone else’s life doesn’t make anything clearer.

I know I’m Olivia White.

That much I know for sure.

Whatever that means, of course. Honestly, I don’t even have a straightforward answer to what it means. Who knows exactly who they are, really? Even Jake struggles with trying to be someone he thinks he needs to be sometimes, and it’s hard to see him hide himself to try and be the man he thinks I want him to be. I just want him to be Jake—the intense and sensitive man that holds the key to everything I am or ever will be. There isn’t a minute since I realized I fell in love with him that I didn’t want to spend every waking minute with him no matter how much he annoys the shit out of me sometimes.

Most of the house has been packed up or sold off—thanks to Caitlyn’s help as she stayed here with us before they left for South Carolina—but we’ve yet to decide where we’re moving to after the dust settles. For now, we’re in limbo, and it’s not a foreign feeling to me to not know whether I’m coming or going.

“Good morning, baby.” Jake kisses my forehead. “Noah just called me.”

The coffee tastes fantastic on my tongue. “Did he find Sabine?”

“He found her.” He sighs and takes my hand into his, leading me into the living room. “If you want to contact her, I’ll take you to meet her. If you don’t, that’s fine too. That choice is yours and yours only. No one can sway you on that decision.”

“I don’t want to meet her. She didn’t want me then, and I doubt she wants me now. It’s not going to change anything, either. Not really,” I answer almost immediately. I’ve given it some thought since Michael told me her name and the truth about her, and deep down I know I can’t trust anything he says, but something just…fits. Not to mention she abandoned me in the middle of nowhere without a second thought.

Jake notices my reservation and sits down on the sofa with worry in his soft brown eyes. “Are you sure about that? I don’t know much about her, Olivia. I wouldn’t bother with her, but it’s not up to me.”

“There’s really only one other way to make up my mind—ask my mom about it.”

He nods his head and leaves the room after kissing my forehead. He knows I should be alone for this, but it’s hard for him to leave and not take charge of making sure he’s there for me. I take the phone from my pocket and dial my mother’s number—the one that actually treats me like a daughter—and wait for her to answer. I hadn’t talked to her in a few weeks, so when she answers, the surprise in her voice startles both of us.

“Livvie?” Her voice cracks. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” I answer straight away because I don’t want to waste any time. “We found Sabine.”

She sucks in air through her teeth. “How was that? Are you okay?”

She’s so silent that I have to check the phone screen to make sure the call didn’t drop. After a few long seconds, she sighs and chuckles. “I hardly knew your mother. After my mother divorced Michael when I was eleven, she kept me from him for a long time. It wasn’t until Sabine came into the picture a few years later and he married her that I met her.” Jake peeks his head back into the room to make sure I’m okay. I wave my hand at him to come in, and his lean body relaxes next to mine; he hands me a wine glass with a dark red substance inside.

“Thought you might need this.” He kisses my fingers.

I zone back into the phone conversation and take a drink of the wine in my hand. “What was she like?”

“Your mother?” It pains her to say it out loud, but she knows there isn’t another way to talk about her. “She was…young. Twenty years younger than Michael. I hated her because Michael was finally fighting to be a part of my life, but when Sabine entered the situation, things changed.”

I nearly choke on my wine. “You mean, when I came along.”

“No, I was excited for you. I was sixteen and about to be a big sister—I was excited. Things changed when Sabine found out that you existed. Something shifted inside of her, and she became colder and more deflective. She always hated having me around, even if it was for just a weekend.”

Licking the excess wine from my lips, I frown. “Did she ever love me?”

“I’m sure there was a time that she did. I don’t know what to tell you to make things better, Livvie. You were raised by a nanny because she couldn’t bother. She never held you or changed your diapers. When you fell and broke your arm on your tenth birthday, she didn’t take you to the hospital. Jake’s mother had to do that because Sabine refused.”

My eyes widen with disgust. “Jake’s mom did that?” He notices his name, and his ears perk up. “I thought she hated me.”

“She may hate you now for taking her son away.” My mother laughs into the phone. “But she always treated you like one of her own when you were younger. Things got weird for a while, and no one knew where Sabine was, and that’s when Michael told everyone she disappeared.”

I finish the glass and hand it back to Jake; he notices that I need more so he kisses my forehead and jumps up to retrieve it. “What do you think I should do?” I ask. “Do you think I should try and contact her?”

My mother sucks in air through her teeth like she’s put her hand on a hot burner. “That’s up to you, Liv. No matter what, me and your dad are here for you, and so is Caitlyn. We’re your family, no matter who else comes into the picture. Think about it and do whatever your heart tells you to do.”

“Life only gives you one mother.” I slap my hand over my mouth.

She doesn’t seem surprised. “Life gives you whatever it thinks you need and can handle. You needed a mother, so life brought me to you. Sure, you had some tragic times before we got there, but can you honestly imagine it any other way?”

“No.”

I almost feel her smile through the phone. “That’s nice to hear. Trust yourself, Liv—you’re the only one that you can fully trust with every ounce of yourself. I’m not saying you can’t trust Jake, but he can’t make this decision for you.”

When we hang up, I don’t feel any better than before I called her. When Jake comes back with more wine, his face twists in confusion when he looks down at me.

“You okay, baby?” He hands me the glass, and my hands shake.

I swig it all down and look up at him with tears in the corners of my eyes.

“We’re going to Maryville.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sabine

The last thing I remember about my mother is her leaving me behind. It’s different…I shouldn’t say I remember, because I don’t. Just because these dreams are actually memories resurfacing doesn’t mean anything. The feelings that should be there in the memories just…aren’t.

Jake notices I’m frustrated but gives me space. That’s really been my saving grace since the first day waking up in the hospital; the patience he tries so hard to have is endearing.

Taking daily medicine hasn’t completely taken my headaches away, but they are few and far between. There are days where I feel more like myself—Olivia—than anything else. There are also days where I’m completely off-kilter and opposite of myself, which I assume is the person I once was—Lacey.

My life is confusing.

Even before my accident, my life was confusing.

But Jake always made it better.

His fingers haven’t left mine since we left Seattle; the copper stubble on his face has turned into a thicker, fuzzier patch of a shadowed beard. I like the way it feels on my fingertips; the coarse hair pricks against my skin when I touch his face.

“We should’ve called before driving up here.” Jake’s voice rumbles through my brain as I look outside at the passing scenery—which isn’t much to even look at. The dried-up ground passing us by looks like it’s been burned and forgotten. “Don’t you think we should’ve called first?”

I laugh. “Are you nervous about meeting my mother? Have you met your mother? How bad could this one be compared to her?”

“Fair enough.” He laughs with me and follows the GPS line toward the address we mustered up online for Sabine. She’s changed her name, but the connections that Jake still has were able to figure out exactly where she is.

It’s a strange feeling, though—trying to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. It’s an even stranger feeling trying to find someone who abandoned you as a child…literally. I guess I take comfort in the fact it wasn’t on the side of the road or in the middle of the woods.

On the long drive, Jake and I have been through every possible scenario including the ones where Sabine clearly doesn’t want to be found and screams at me that I’m a waste of space and to leave her alone. I don’t much care for that one, but I can’t be naïve in thinking that she’ll welcome me with open arms. I don’t think I’m even looking for that, honestly. I think I’m more looking for closure on a life I can’t remember so I can start living a life that was meant for me with a clear conscience.

“Bug, you forget that I have actually met your mother.” Jake turns the car and parks on the side of the street. “I knew her when she was around. Not well—she pretty much kept to herself and didn’t care about our side of the street, but I still knew her from coming around you.”

We’re parked on the side of a wealthy suburban street with children playing outside of a few houses and people stopping to take a peek at us intruding on their picture-perfect neighborhood. “Do you remember what she was really like, though?”

“I already told you, she was cold and quiet. She hardly ever spoke two words to me, and I never saw her even do anything motherly. Your dad was always the one at softball games, parades, and talent shows, baby.” I don’t want to believe that, but it hurts Jake to tell me the truth so I have to be diplomatic about it. He waves at an older man who stops walking his dog to glare at us because he knows we don’t belong here. “We’re here. It’s that house over there…you ready?”

Three small children play around the plush green lawn of the mini-mansion he points to: two boys and a girl. They look like they’re all under the age of ten; the boys both have dark hair like me, but the little girl has golden blonde curls.

Before I think about it, I step from the car, and Jake has to rush to keep up with me as I barge onto their front lawn. The oldest boy puts his siblings behind him and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not afraid to defend his siblings; I find that admirable.

“Who are you?” he demands.

“My name is Olivia.” I smile and try to diffuse the tension. “I’m looking for Sabine Christensen. Does she live here?”

The boy narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know a Sabine.”

“Mommy’s name is Sabine, Jeffrey,” the little girl says. “Daddy’s name is George.”

The older boy frowns at her. “She’s stranger. Don’t tell her our names, you idiot!”

“Don’t call her an idiot.” Jake tugs at my shirt to warn me to back down. “That’s not a nice way to talk to your sister.”

The boy snorts. “You can’t boss me around. I’m telling my mom.”

“Jeffrey!” A woman rushes from the front door of the house and places the kids behind her in defense. It takes a few seconds for me to be able to look directly at her, but when I do, it’s like looking directly into a mirror. She has the same thick, Hershey bar-colored hair and long, thin nose as me. She’s a little taller than me, but even Jake squeezes the back of my shirt because he realizes he’s looking at me in thirty years. “Who the hell are you?” She glares. “I’ve already called the police.”

“I’m Olivia White.”

She looks confused at my name. “Keep away from my children.” Before she can usher them inside, I grab her hand, and she hisses at me. “You need to leave. You shouldn’t be here!”

Jake steps up to my side. “Exactly why shouldn’t she be here?”

Sabine knows she’s been caught, and it takes her a few seconds to figure out what she’s going to do. After whispering to her children and ordering them to go inside, we watch the three of them reluctantly stomp back into the house.

Jeffrey looks back at me and waits until his siblings go inside. “You’re my sister, aren’t you?”

Sabine frowns. “Your sister is inside. Now go.”

“I hear you and Dad arguing about her all the time.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I first heard you last year on New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s when I had my accident.” I look at Jeffrey, and he smiles. “What did they argue about?”

“Dad wanted to see if we could help you, and Mom said no.”

Sabine grabs him by the arm and marches him inside. When she returns, all three children start peering from the living room windows.

“You had the opportunity to help me after my accident but said no?”

Her chest heaves up and down as the weight of what she’s done presses down on her more with each second that passes by. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I left you a long time ago, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re no longer mine.”

A chill runs down my spine, but it’s too late to turn back now. “What are their names? My siblings.”

She doesn’t rush to answer me. “Jeffrey, Steven, and…Lacey.”

Ouch. Right through my chest.

“Lacey? You named another child after the one you left behind?” My throat is dry, but I can’t stop myself from raising my voice. “How can you be a mother to these children and not to your first one?”

She looks nervously around at her neighbors and joyfully waves them off to let them know she’s okay and I’m just some crazy person on her front lawn. “I think you need to get back into your car and drive back to wherever you came from.” Her eyes find mine, and they are cold and as unloving as they can be. “I don’t want any trouble from you or your deceitful father, you understand me? I’m someone else’s mother now.”

My lips are on fire. “You’re not a mother. Don’t even say that. A mother doesn’t take her child hours away to abandon her. A mother doesn’t skip town and never look back. A mother…” I take a step forward and let the anger take over my body. “…doesn’t disappear.”

She laughs.

Laughs.

Jake holds the back of my shirt so I don’t pounce on her. “You left me in that abandoned office building, alone and scared. What kind of monster does something like that?” I wipe the excess spit off my mouth that escapes when I’m spewing my hate for her right in her damn face.

“I knew your father would save you like he always did.”

“Why didn’t you just run away from home like a normal person?” My voice echoes in the air. “Why did you have to drag me hours away just to abandon me? Do you get off on being cruel?”

Sabine pales. “You were such a clingy little thing. You’d never let me go anywhere or do anything alone. You wouldn’t let me leave, so I took you with me and waited until you slept and didn’t know where we were to leave you. It’s not like anything bad happened to you.”

Rage fills my entire body. “Not like anything—what? You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“Lower your voice. I don’t want my neighbors knowing about you. I’m better off if you didn’t exist to these people, okay?”

“Look, she’s only just found out about you and didn’t hesitate in wanting to meet you to complete a part of her life she’s lost.” Jake closes in on her, and his tall body is intimidating. I know the look in her eyes when he towers over her; his aura suffocates you in the worst and best of ways. “But you’re fucked in the head if you think I’m going to let you speak to her like that anymore. You’ll speak to her with respect.”

“What is it that you want from me?” She looks at me, trying to ignore him standing over her. “I haven’t seen you in over ten years.”

First question.

“Why did you leave?”

She answers instantly. “I was young when I married your father and then we had you shortly after. I never got the chance to be a young wife or finish living life before you came along. I never wanted you. He forced me to have you. I fell in love with George, my husband now, and you know the rest.”

Second question.

“You didn’t want to be a mother then, but now you do?”

“I love my children, all three of them.” Her cold stare freezes my heart. “This conversation keeps going around in circles. You’re here thinking I’ll hug you and we’ll be mother and daughter, and that’s not happening.”

Jake tugs on the back of my shirt. “Baby, you’re not going to get any closure here. Maybe we should just go.” He nods toward the street, where two police cars pull up and the officers make their way toward us. “I’m not going to call your mother and tell her you were arrested.”

“At least she’ll care more than my real mother.” I glare at Sabine. “You could have taken me with you.”

“I didn’t want to.”

Stop doing this to yourself, Olivia.

“But you could have.”

The officers stay back and listen when she holds out her hands for them to back off. “I didn’t want to take you with me. I didn’t want you. I never wanted you.”

I didn’t want you.

I never wanted you.

My hand rises to slap her across her face, but Jake stops me just in time. He mumbles something to the officers about us leaving and wraps his arms around me in a reverse bear hug so I can’t move.

“I hate you.” I spit fire at her. “I’ll never forgive you, and I hate you with everything I have left inside of me. I’m glad my father didn’t tell me about you before now.”

She shrugs and walks back into her house like it’s no big deal. Jake places me in the car and goes back to speak to the officers, who eventually get back in their cars and leave. When he climbs back in next to me, he starts the car and drives out of Maryville without saying a word. Once we find a small diner on the outside of the city, he pulls in and turns off the car in silence.

“How can someone be like that?” I hold my head in my hands. “How can you just throw someone away like a piece of trash?”

His hand finds mine, and he takes it. “I don’t know, baby. I couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to even be around you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s for sure.”

I want to smile, but I can’t. “I mean, what kind of a monster does something like that? I know I should be something other than angry, but I guess not remembering her helps with that. I don’t know what I was expecting, coming here.”

He kisses my fingers, and a wave of relief washes over me. “You were thinking that you wanted to know your mother and see what she’s like. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He brushes the fabric of my shirt off of my shoulder and smiles at the red phoenix staring back at him. “This is the person you are. You’ve risen from the ashes of tragedy. Don’t let Sabine ruin that for you.”

Then it hits me.

None of this matters.

Michael and Sabine don’t matter.

What they’ve done to me doesn’t matter.

Jake matters.

What we have matters.

“I love you, Jake.” He takes my chin in between his thumb and index finger, parting my lips with his and letting me taste his cinnamon tongue.

“I love you, Bug, more than anything.” He breathes into my lips. “You’re the only person I’ll ever need in my life. You mean something to me, and that’s the best feeling in the world, meaning something to someone, right?”

I blush and chuckle. “Are you trying to fish for a compliment?”

He laughs and starts to back the car out of the parking lot. “Have you decided where we’re moving yet?” I know he wants to change the subject so he doesn’t tear up, and I’m okay with that. I haven’t given much thought to where we would move, and honestly it doesn’t even matter where we go as long as I wake up next to Jake every morning.

“You choose.” I pull up a map of all the states on my phone. “Keep your eyes on the road and point.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “You want to me choose where we spend our future by simply pointing to a map? What if I choose the worst place on the planet?”

“Then it will be the worst place on the planet and we’ll share it together.”

His finger pops out into the air, and I guide him to the screen and where he touches starts to zoom in and I turn the phone so he can’t see where it lands.

“So where are we moving?”

“Kansas.”

“Kansas it is, then. You and me, Bug. Forever.”

I lean my head back on the headrest and look at the passing scenery outside the window. It’s the same things we’ve seen coming in, but now it just feels different. Life feels different. I can’t change my past, but I can make sure my future is everything I want it to be.

Jake held the pieces of my past on his skin and in his heart.

Now he holds the pieces of my future at the touch of his fingertip.

“I’ll tell you when we get there.” I smile and open the window to let the crisp air inside the car. He doesn’t complain because he knows I’m washing away everything that’s happened in the past few months so I can let it go and be who I want to be.

The accident doesn’t define me. What happened to me doesn’t define me. Jake doesn’t define me, and Michael and Sabine sure as hell don’t define me.

I define myself.

I choose who I want to be.

Who I’m truly meant to be.

I am Olivia White.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A year later

The air hovering over the backyard full of friends and family is thick with love and laughter. The Midwest sun showers down on us and fills our bodies with warmth and the best feeling of being content that I’ve ever known.

It’s been a year since Jake and I left Seattle for a quiet, suburban life in Kansas with a picket fence, friendly neighbors, and everything cliché that comes with it. He sold off all of his businesses and invested in some business opportunities that apparently are making him money. I try and stay out of that business since I know nothing about it—and really don’t care to.

I got a job at the local YMCA because I felt the need to give back the time that I’d wasted in Silver Lake. No matter how many times Jake tells me it wasn’t my fault…it was. I owed it to myself to try and be a better version of myself, whatever that meant.

The phoenix tattoo on my back helps to remind me of what I’d lost without knowing I’d even lost it. There’s something comforting about knowing there’s a piece of you floating out there in space and time that someone can grab at any given moment just to have something comforting to hold on to.

And then there’s Jake.

He has so many pieces of me that it’s hard to keep track of.

The dreams have slowed down, but they’re not completely gone. I have some now and then; some are repeated memories I’ve already seen, and some aren’t. The headaches aren’t completely gone either, but the ease that Jake instills inside of me helps with that tremendously.

Sometimes we’ll talk about what our life was like before the accident; he’ll tell me stories and answer whatever questions I have without hesitation. When we met—this last time—I knew that Jake Redding was connected to me somehow. Little did I realize that he’s my past, my present, and my future. There’s something about his tall frame and curly copper blonde hair, muscular arms and ripped chest that holds a special place in my heart. But that’s all just visual. There’s many more things—I learn something new about him every day—that make up the compound of Jake Redding that entice me more than a set of strong arms can.

The unspoken love that Jake holds for me is the warmest feeling I’ve ever experienced. After everything all of us have been through, it’s hard not to take the first thing I can and run with it. I’ve had to block any feelings for my real father that muster themselves up inside of me just to make room for the people in my life that haven’t put me in harm’s way.

I haven’t spoken to Michael Cervase since I visited him in the prison. He’s tried to contact me while rotting away in a jail cell, but those efforts have stopped after the fifteenth time of me rejecting his phone calls and throwing away his letters.

Jake’s even flown Brant out a few times to visit, but I think it’s more of a silent obligation he feels he owes to Brant for helping me more times than one. Last time, he brought his new girlfriend out to meet us, and they stayed for a week to relish in the suburban Midwest life with us. After the week was up, she was itching to get back to the big city of Dallas and leave our little town behind her in the dust, taking Brant with her. I haven’t heard from him since then, but as long as he’s happy, I’m happy.

And then there’s Caitlyn and our parents.

Well, my sister and brother-in-law. I still call them my parents because it’s all I can remember them as, and it just feels right and fits.

They are in a corner of the backyard, drinks in hand and smiles on their faces as Jake walks up to them and engages them in a conversation. They moved to South Carolina, but for this special occasion, they flew in to celebrate with us just like the dozens of other people chattering and laughing around the plush, green backyard.

“Hey, you,” Jake whispers behind me, and it startles me. “I’d ask if you were okay, but that seems like a silly question.” His smile warms my heart as he steps around me and kisses my lips. “Are you having a good time? You haven’t really spoken to anyone.”

I let my lips spread across my face. “Just taking it all in. Life’s changed so much these past few years that it’s hard to appreciate it for what it is.”

He makes an agreeing noise and snakes his arm around my waist. “And what do you think life is all about? I’m sure you have an excellent answer.”

I know he’s mocking me, but I don’t care. The fact that he appreciates what I have to say, no matter if he agrees with me or not, is the real point to focus on. “I think everyone has a different purpose in life, and we don’t just have one; we have many. Like for instance, you and me.”

His eyebrows raise, and he waves to one of his brothers. “You and me, huh? What’s my purpose in life, do you think?”

A giggle escapes my throat as he tickles my side. “To be at my beck and call, of course.” I laugh and let him playfully groan and tug me into his arms for a bear hug. Some people in the crowd make cute noises and clap when Jake puts me down and kisses me. I knew we would be on display today, but it’s weird to have dozens of pairs of eyes watching and waiting for you to do something adorable.

“Hey, you two.” Noah, one of Jake’s brothers, walks up to us. “Jake, didn’t you want to make a speech or something?” He winks at his brother and nods toward the concrete patio where a microphone has been set up for use. “Everything’s ready, man.”

Jake takes my hand and kisses my fingers before leaving me with Noah, who puts his arm around my shoulders to keep me in place. Jake clears his throat when he reaches the microphone, and once everyone gathers around to hear what he has to say, his eyes meet mine, and for the very first time, his entire face blushes red and he’s suddenly at a loss for words. His hands shake as he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a folded-up piece of white paper, ready to read whatever is on it.

He clears his throat and tries to calm down. “Hey, everyone, I, uh…I just wanted to start off by thanking everyone for being here. It means a lot to Olivia and me that you care enough about us to join us today.” He nods in my direction, and it’s my turn to blush from the pairs of eyes that are fixed on me again. Noah laughs and takes his arm from around my shoulders. Apparently, he’s confident that I won’t run from anything now.

Jake nervously laughs and looks at the paper in his hand. “Okay, so I just wanted to say a few words about the one person in my life that has always been there for me, no matter what sort of trouble I got myself into. She’s the only one that tried to bring me out of the darkness when I got so far deep that I didn’t care if I made it out alive. I was a fool to deny her, but once I let her into my heart and soul, that was and continues to remain the best decision I’ve ever made in my entire life. Being with Olivia has made my heart full of emotions that I never thought I was worthy to feel. I was in a bad place before Olivia found me and held on. We all know that she was born Lacey…”

A lump forms in my throat when I hear that name every single time.

“…but to me, she’s Olivia, and most of you just see that as a name, but to her, it’s much more than that. She lives and breathes kindness, and without her, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I owe her much more than just my life. I owe her my freedom. I owe her everything and anything I can possible give to her because she chose to love me not only once, but twice.”

The crowd coos, and Jake takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray while Noah fetches one for the both of us and hands mine to me. “So let’s raise our glasses to this incredible woman that rekindles the pieces of me that I never thought could be fixed. Let’s raise our glasses to the woman that has touched each and every one of our lives in a positive and unforgettable way.”

Jake’s eyes reach mine, and tears stream down his cheeks. “Let’s all raise our glasses to Miss Olivia White and the fact that she agreed to let me make her my wife. I love you, Bug.” He brings the glass to his lips quickly so others will follow suit before they realize that he’s crying.

I dodge all of the arms flailing around me to swoop me into a hug so I can make it to Jake first. He catches me as I run to him, and our lips mesh together so soundly that nothing is going to keep us apart.

“I love you, Jake,” I breathe into his lips, and he smiles.

“Thanks for fixing me, Bug.” He laughs and swoops me up to carry me around the backyard so everyone can congratulate us on our engagement. “Thanks for sticking around to fall in love with me again.”

“Jake Redding, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I smile, and our family and friends surround us with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bonus Chapter One

Six months

Jake

The constant ticking of the clock on the wall pisses me off. The green paint on the wall underneath the clock pisses me off. The way the bed looks without her in it pisses me off, and the fact that it’s been six months since I’ve touched her skin really fucking pisses me off.

Everything pisses me off.

“I fucking miss you, Lacey. I don’t know how to be normal without you,” I whisper into the darkness. The room is cold; it has been since she left. I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about…she didn’t leave. Her hand was forced; they played to her emotions and got her to leave with them. She wasn’t in danger; I was supposed to keep her safe. I didn’t know I had to keep her safe from them too.

My heart burns.

I hate everything.

Fuck this house. I’ll burn it all down.

“Jake!” Noah’s voice echoes through the halls. “Where are you?”

I want to scream and tell him to fuck off, that I don’t want to see anyone right now. This is all my fault; what kind of fucking monster nearly kills the woman he’s in love with?

Me. Jake Redding, that’s who.

Noah turns on the bedroom light and stands in the doorway, surprised. “What the hell are you doing in here, sitting in the dark?”

“Did you find her?”

He shakes his head.

“Then fuck off.”

“Jake, this isn’t the end, okay? Whatever Michael did with her, he buried it deep. There’s people out there he still trusts, and he used them. It’s gonna take some time, brother.”

My fist slams on the bedside table. “I don’t have any more fucking time! It’s been six months, Noah. Six. Fucking. Months! You know how I get without her! I need her, Noah! So go out there and fucking find her!”

“I have another lead. I was coming to tell you. I’m going to Miami.”

“It better be to find my fucking lifeforce and not take a fucking vacation.”

Noah shakes my shoulders. “Would you calm the fuck down? I get it, Jake, you love her. I love her too. We all love her. Lacey is special, man. Everyone knows that. What I can’t do is magically make her appear, okay? I’m doing the best I can.”

“Find her, Noah.”

He sighs and releases me, leaving me alone in the bedroom. The problem with living in this house without her is she’s everywhere. Her perfume lingers in the bedroom on the bedsheets where I can’t even sit without thinking about her naked body beneath mine. Her sneakers are still where she’s kicked them off underneath her vanity; I can’t bring myself to move them.

Her purple toothbrush. The bottles of Merlot in the wine cellar. Her sun room. The dying maple tree in the backyard.

Lacey is my heart.

I can’t survive without a heart.

Every room I walk through has something to remind me of her, and I can’t take it anymore. From the moment I laid eyes on this girl, I knew she was the end of the world for me. The love in her eyes when she handed me the note that changed my life forever on my seventeenth birthday was so real and pure, I didn’t stand a chance.

I still don’t stand a chance.

She makes me better; I don’t have to be the beast when I have her.

But I don’t have her.

When I find her, she won’t want me anyway. She’ll know that I cut the brakes on the fucking car and tried to kill him. There’s no denying what I’ve done, and she’s going to fear me again. I haven’t seen fear in her eyes since the day I told her I never wanted to talk to her again.

***

“Jake, this isn’t you. You’re better than this. Come home with me.”

Lacey tugs at my arm, and for a split second, I do want to run away with her. I’ve always wanted to run away with her; there’s no question about that. She’s been everything to me from day one. That hasn’t changed.

I’ve changed.

I’m a monster now.

“Lacey, go home. I don’t want you here.”

She gets knocked back a few steps and looks stunned. The group of friends I’ve been running around with aren’t exactly decent people. Lately, we’ve taken to lurking in the woods smoking pot for the time being until we can stir up new trouble around town.

“What’s this we’ve got here?” Larken Brown, the self-appointed leader of our group and total fucking scumbag, stops to stroke Lacey’s hair. “Who does this one belong to?”

Lacey grits her teeth. “I belong to no one.”

“Me,” I speak up. “She’s mine.”

Larken’s eyebrows rise. “Better get this one in line, Jakey Boy.”

Once he moves on, I grab her wrist as tight as I can. “Lacey, go the fuck home. You stay here and I can’t protect you for long. This isn’t the place for you.”

“Or you, Jake. Please, I love you. Come home with me.”

I can’t look into her sad gray eyes. “I love you too. Go. Home.”

Larken makes his way back around and hears what I say to her. He claps his hands together and starts laughing loudly, making a big scene. “Look at all these pretty ladies out here tonight! Who wants to drink my special punch?”

The fear in her eyes when he stops in front of her kills me.

This is gonna fucking cost me big time.

I reach over and grab Lacey by her waist and throw her over my shoulder as hard as I can. She whimpers from the blow, but I don’t care. I have to make it look believable so nothing bad will happen to her. Larken watches me stomp away with her and throw her into the backseat of my car.

“Lacey, kiss me.” I lean over her and try not to cry. “You have to kiss me.”

“What is happening here?” she cries into her hands. “You’re just a kid, Jake. What are you doing here with these guys?”

“Larken gets fucked up when he’s drunk. He won’t touch you if I am. He doesn’t like someone’s sloppy seconds.”

Her eyes darken. “That’s disgusting.”

“His words, not mine. If he thinks you’re with me, he won’t hurt you. I told you not to come after me, Lacey. I don’t want anyone to follow me. I just want to be alone.”

“Why? What’s so bad that you want to be alone?”

“I’m just so fucking angry all the time I can’t trust myself to be around you without hurting you. I’ve done things you would be scared of me for.”

She leans up and kisses my lips, and my skull nearly explodes. I’ve thought about kissing her before, but this is…different than I thought it would be.

“Take me home, Jake,” she says. “Take me home, and when you’re ready, I’ll be there for you.”

I want to kiss her again, but I can’t.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Noah comes back into the house; his boots stomp against the hardwood floors. He waits for me in the kitchen, giving me the space I need to cool down and have a rational conversation about things.

“Michael had some accounts in Miami that were closed down not long before his arrest. I think that maybe he hid her there with the money,” he says and hands me a hot cup of coffee. “Remind me again why we’re looking for a girl who doesn’t remember any of us?”

The hot liquid burns my throat, and I need it to feel alive.

“We owe it to her to find her and bring her home.”

“For your sake or hers?”

The cup clinks on the table as I lose my focus and nearly drop it when he says this.

“Whatever gets her home.”

Bonus Chapter Two

One year, six days, four hours and nine minutes

Holy shit, there she is.

I can’t believe Noah actually fucking found her.

I’d given up hope; a year has gone by, and I knew life was punishing me by keeping her hidden from me. Now, here she is: wafting around an upper-middle class suburban backyard with four too many flutes of champagne swimming around her veins.

She’s still as gorgeous as the last time I saw her.

I want to call out her name, but she won’t answer to it. Noah found out the truth, and Lacey has no fucking idea who she is or where she’s from. She doesn’t remember her fucked-up life, and she doesn’t remember what I did.

Look at her. She makes me fucking smile, and I’m sure I look like the biggest fucking creep here. That includes the guy with the buzzed head that’s hitting on her. Fuck that guy; I’ll pulverize him if he touches her in any way other than a nice one. How can I bump into her without freaking her out?

Shit. There’s Caitlyn. I fucking remember her, though we’ve only met once.

***

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You don’t know me.” The girl with the bleached hair stands at my doorstep. “My name is Caitlyn. I just wanted to tell you that Lacey is safe and we’re moving her tomorrow.”

I haven’t fucking slept in weeks. Is this girl even real? I reach out and poke her shoulder, and she looks surprised and scared. Her body is solid, and she sways backward a little, bouncing right back to her position only a few feet in front of me.

“Where the fuck is she?” My voice vibrates in my throat. I grab the girl’s arm, and she squeals, looking around the darkness for help. “Tell me where you took her.”

“I didn’t take her anywhere, please…it’s for her own good right now…”

Half of me wants to pull the girl inside and lock her away to exchange her for Lacey. I know I can’t do that without repercussions, and I’ve already become the biggest fucking monster I’ve ever been. Reality sets into my bones, and I fall to my knees, hugging the girl’s legs and pleading with her.

“Please bring her back to me…I need her…she’s everything…”

The girl pats my head and cries with me. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I shouldn’t even be here. I heard my mom talking to my grandpa about Lacey and how much you mean to her…I don’t know where we’re going, but I just wanted you to know she’s safe.”

“Is she okay?” I look up at her and see Lacey in her face a little.

“She’s with family. She’s fine. She’s having headaches a lot and can’t remember who she is or anyone around her. I asked her about you today, and she had no idea who you were.”

I want to fucking die.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Did you get the note I left you? The one explaining where she was?”

My legs allow me to stand; even though I’m much taller than her, I feel so fucking small. “I got it. I read it. I didn’t fucking like it.”

“I just wanted you to understand we’re not doing this to hurt you—we’re doing it to save her. She needs to be in a place where she can heal, and she can’t do that here.”

A car pulls up and honks the horn. “That’s my friend. He’s giving me a ride back to the hospital.” The girl puts her hand on my cheek and frowns. “You need to move on, Jake. I don’t know when, or if, she’ll be back. I know it hurts…” She looks back at the car and wipes a tear from her eye. “She’s not the only one leaving someone she loves behind. My life’s been uprooted too.”

“Then don’t do this,” I plead. “Don’t take her. Stay here with her and help her.”

“I can’t.” She shakes her head and takes a few steps backward. The man steps out of the car and crosses his arms over his chest—in a defensive stance in case she needs help.

That sorry fucking bastard.

He’s losing someone he loves, too.

“Just promise me one thing.”

I shake my head. “I can’t make any promises to someone who’s taking the very reason I fucking breathe from me.”

She sighs. “Don’t come looking for her, Jake. Don’t confuse her any more than she already is. All you’ll do is hurt her more, and if you do that, she may never recover.”

“You expect me to just…let her go?”

The girl looks into my eyes and nods. She backs away and joins the man in the car, and he speeds off, leaving me a broken fucking mess on my doorstep.

***

I can’t fucking let her see me. If Caitlyn sees me, it’s all over. She’ll pull Lacey from me and disappear with her again; I just found her after an entire year of searching.

One year, six days, four hours and nine minutes, actually.

Lacey looks disturbed by the buzzed-headed guy talking to her. I laugh to myself because even though she doesn’t remember me or what she felt for me…this guy doesn’t stand a fucking chance. It was one of the things I hated most about being in public with her…the countless number of eyes following her wherever she would go. She’s gorgeous—anyone can see that—but now she’s looks different, yet the same. I wonder why they didn’t change her looks when they changed her name?

Her long, dark hair is pinned up the best it can be; it’s so thick that she’s always had trouble keeping it up and out of her face. I never minded, though; I like brushing it back behind her ears.

Did he just fucking push her?

I put my bottle of craft beer on a table as I walk calmly to the guy who’s now joking around with his buddies and talking about Lacey. They pat him on the back and motivate him to touch her in ways that only I should be fucking touching her.

“Got a problem?” the buzzed-headed guy snickers.

A smart-ass smirk forms on my lips. “Yeah, I do. See that girl over there?” My head bobs towards Lacey, who’s taking two more champagne flutes from a waiter’s tray and guzzling them down.

“Olivia? Yeah, what’s it to you?”

My hand wraps around his wrist, and I squeeze so hard his eyes bug from his skull. None of his pansy-ass friends help him as he writhes beneath the pain I’m inflicting purposely on his skin. “Leave her the fuck alone, you hear me? She doesn’t want you—don’t fucking talk to her like that again.”

The buzzed-headed guy laughs. “I’ll do what I fucking please. Now let go of me or you won’t like what happens to you.”

I pull the guy until he’s inches from my face; the fear in his eyes brightens, and his friends disperse around the backyard, not wanting any part of this confrontation. “You definitely won’t like what happens to you if you don’t leave her alone. Take this as your first and only warning, jackass.”

I release him a little too hard, and he falls into the bushes like he tried to do to Lacey before. He sputters as I walk away, threatening me and causing a scene, but I’m already inside the house looking for where she’s run off to.

“Jake!” a man’s voice booms in my direction. “Nice of you to make it, son!”

Stan Burrows—the man I invested money with so I could attend this party—motions me over to his group to introduce me. I make nice and shake hands and let the others get bored of the shiny new guy before averting my attention to Caitlyn and Lacey as they have a small argument in the foyer. Caitlyn leaves her and returns to her own group of friends, leaving Lacey alone with another glass of champagne. She teeters a bit once she’s outside, and the dress she’s wearing—that tight little black dress that makes my fucking mouth water because I know what’s underneath—slides up her thighs as she falls down in to the grass with her head in her hands.

This is my chance.

I’ll walk up to her, and if she doesn’t know me, I’ll put on the charm and win her over.

The only way this is going to work is if I make her fall in love with me again.

How did I do it the first time?

Several old men are staring at her from the bottom of the lawn; they nudge each other and point at her slightly open legs. I snarl at them and rush to her side, ready to defend her.

I stand in silence, inches from the person I love most in the world, and she doesn’t have a clue who I am or why I’m hovering over her.

She needs me, though. She needs me to wipe the sadness away from her heart.

I need her to come home.

Taking a deep breath, I sort out what I’m going to say to her, but the way she sways lets me know that all that champagne has gone to her head and she’s drunk. She always has been a lightweight.

Speak, Jake! Talk to her! Don’t let her go away!

I clear my throat softly and take a deep breath.

Here goes nothing…

About the Author

I live in Kansas City with my husband and our son, Ryker. I have been writing for over a decade, I started out writing songs and music and then realized that those stories were too short for the tales I wanted to tell, so I switched to writing books and articles, which then blossomed into writing contemporary romance and fantasy novels. I am in indecisive person at heart, I love coffee more than a Gilmore girl and my most favorite time to write and create is during a rainstorm (with coffee!).

I love hearing from those who read my stories, I love to hear how much people relate to each character and how they are rooting for their favorites to succeed! I don’t only create stories, I create entirely new worlds and people that come to life

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/authornickyshanks

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/nickyshanks84

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/authornickyshanks/

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/68847149-nicky-shanks

Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/user/NBenson

Tattoo Killer

By A.J. Norris

CHAPTER ONE

Mikey

Why is this happening?

The question was the only thing Mikey could think about as the metal door of the Webster City lock-up cell slammed shut and closed him inside. The arrest surprised him. He had a clean record apart from the drunk driving conviction from five years ago. Murder though? Not him. So not him. Sure, he had tattoos, but come on.

He looked around the holding cell. The walls, ceiling, and floor were painted a pale institutional green. A stainless steel toilet and sink combo was mounted to the cinderblock wall out in plain sight. Good thing he didn't need to take a dump. He sat down on the built-in bench and thought about how best to use the phone which was mounted on the wall opposite the toilet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t place a call his parents, not unless the thing had a direct line to heaven.

Lying back on the bench, he ran his hands through his hair, leaving it spiked down the middle. His shoulders and wrists ached from having been cuffed for hours.

A deputy cleared his throat outside his cell. Mikey flipped his eyelids open. Two other officers flanked him. He dropped his legs over the side of the bench and planted his feet on the floor.

“Hardin, ah…Mikey?” the deputy in the middle said.

“Yeah. That's me,” Mikey said. Who else could it be? He was the only one in the cell. He stood and puffed his chest, ready to defend his name. Most people couldn't believe that was his actual first name. And at six foot four, not many had the nerve to question why a grown man would go by a child's nickname. Growing up, he'd been teased, and constantly asked if he liked things. Any things, not only cereal.

“'Kay, you know the drill,” the deputy said.

“Um, what drill?”

“Listen, asshole, stick your hands through the slot in the door, so I can cuff you.”

Mikey couldn't understand why this guy assumed he'd done what he was accused of, and further to the point, clearly he'd not read his non-violent criminal record. He put his hands through the space in the door not much bigger than a mail slot. The deputy cranked the cuffs around his wrists. Mikey winced and stepped backward. The door swung wide with a grating squeal.

“Hands,” the guard barked at him. Mikey thrust his hands toward the deputy who un-cuffed one of Mikey’s hands, spun him around by the arm, and hooked his hands behind his back. The officers led him out of the cell.

“Where are you taking me?” Mikey asked.

“For some reason, Detective Hunter wants a word with you. Let's go.”

“I already made my statement. What's he want?”

“How should I know?” The vocal deputy deposited him in a chair and locked him inside an interrogation room at the end of a hallway.

Mikey looked at his reflection in the two-way mirror and rolled his bloodshot eyes. Was someone lurking on the other side? He tapped his toes on the floor. His shoes had been removed and replaced with orange booties not much thicker than paper. He put his forehead down on the table in front of him. After what felt like hours, the door opened and someone in an ill-fitting suit carrying two cups of coffee and a folder under his arm walked in and stood opposite him.

“Mr. Hardin, I’m detective Hunter,” Cheap Suit said, placing the steaming paper cups on the table. He slapped the thin brown folder down. The man’s hair was grayed at the temples. He took a sip of the coffee on the right. His eyes rose to Mikey’s. “Your record’s clean. Mostly.” The detective smirked on the last word.

“I know. So?” Mikey asked, sitting up straighter.

Hunter narrowed his eyes at Mikey and took a sip of coffee, this time from the cup on the left. “So you indicated that you knew the victim, Felicia Potts, but only went on a few dates. Banged her, once.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Mikey said, looking the detective in the eye. He had a nagging feeling he knew the guy from somewhere.

“Why?” the detective asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Why what? You mean why did I bang her or why did I only go out with her a few times?”

“Both.” Hunter picked up one of the cups.

“Decided I didn't like her. Not my type. But that doesn't prove I killed her. Hey listen, if we're going to be here a while, can you at least cuff my hands in front of me? My shoulders are killing me.”

Hunter chuckled without humor. “You’re something else.”

“Do you know me?” When the detective didn't respond Mikey sighed. He rolled a shoulder and muttered, “Shoulders are really killing me.”

“Sorry to hear that.” The detective leaned his hands on the table and grinned.

Mikey breathed deeply. The cuffs clanked against the metal chair. Detective Hunter opened the folder and spread some pictures out on the table. One glance and Mikey averted his eyes.

“Bothers you?”

“Yeah. What the fuck is that?” He turned his head back to look at the detective and immediately regretted it.

Hunter was holding one of the photos up. “That is the victim after we pulled her out of the lake.”

“Jesus. How long had she been in there?” He coughed and swallowed rising bile.

“Three, maybe four days. Some kids on a fishing trip with their ol’ man spotted her floating near the shore of Lake Webster.” Hunter sifted through the photos and picked up another. “This was taken where the body was found and this,” he held up a picture taken with the victim lying on an autopsy table, “is what her parents get to bury.”

Mikey needed to get out of this room. The images nauseated him. His stomach churned. “Can you put those away?” He swallowed hard again. “I can't stand seeing them.”

Hunter looked up at him with an inquisitive brow raised. “Wouldn't've pegged you for a weak stomach.”

“Well, you were wrong. And it's not just the pictures, it's the thought someone would've done that to her. How did she die anyway?” Maybe this was an obvious question. He looked down at the table, focusing on a scratch in the metal.

The detective inhaled and let the breath out slowly. “Hmm.” He sipped his coffee, alternating between the cups.

“What?” Mikey said.

“You don't read the papers? Watch T.V.?”

Mikey shook his head.

“No?”

“Nope. Surprised?” Mikey asked.

The detective put the photos away. “Blow to the back of the head. Likely while she was in the water, considering she had on a swimsuit.”

Mikey wondered why no one had seen anything during the murder but didn’t ask. He wanted to get the hell out of there, not take up residency.

Cheap Suit cleared his throat. “I'll tell you what, you sit tight and—”

Mikey snorted. “Where am I going to go?” He splayed his hands behind his back as much as he could with his wrists shackled.

“Humph. Funny guy.”

***

Three hours passed before Mikey was released with neither an apology, nor an explanation as to how they had gotten his name in the first place. Although he knew it had been his ex-wife Cynthia. That crazy woman needed to get a life. He literally had only been on three dates with the murdered girl, hardly knew her.

Mikey called a cab service for a ride home; he'd get his car later. His jaw dropped when he walked inside the house. He was shocked but not surprised his place had been turned over. He'd given permission for the cops to search his place. Probably a bone- headed move without consulting a lawyer first.

He stepped over the living room couch cushions on the way to the kitchen. His place was a small ranch with the kitchen situated in the back of the house. He swore under his breath at the state of the cabinets and their contents, which were spilled all over the table and onto the tiled floor. He picked up one the drawers off the floor. A crack ran along several tiles. The new tile had been laid only last week. He guessed he knew what he would be doing next weekend.

“Sonofabitch.” He groaned on the way to the refrigerator for a soda. It was empty. Where was his food? “Oh, wonderful.” He ran his palms down his face and groaned again. Ice cream had leaked out of the container, down the side of the lower cabinet, and the milk and eggs were piss warm.

Hours later, Mikey finally had his house mostly back in order. After investigating the kitchen, he'd gone straight to his son Brayden's room. It was the least ransacked room of the house, the first area he cleaned, and with the most care. No way would he want one thing of his son's stuff out of place.

At eight o'clock Mikey’s stomach growled. He hopped onto his motorcycle, because his car was still parked out front of his ex’s house, and rode to the twenty-four-hour Hector’s Coney Island restaurant. The sign when he walked in had been flipped to the ‘Seat Yourself’ side. He picked a booth in the back along the front window so he could keep an eye on his bike. Jennifer, the perky blonde waitress with a ponytail and a streak of pink on either side of her head ambled up to his table. He’d thought about asking her out but decided the early-twenty-something was too young. At thirty-two, Mikey wasn’t a kid anymore. What he needed was a mature girlfriend not a fuck-buddy.

“Hey, Jennifer.”

Her neck flushed and she smiled. “Hey yourself. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Pepsi, please. Oh, and a glass of water.” He grinned at her despite his sour mood. He also leaned slightly to the left and checked out her nice ass. His eyes traveled the length of her side down to her feet. A butterfly tattoo adorned her ankle. “When you gonna come by my shop and get inked? By me?”

“Um, when do you want me to stop by?”

“Anytime you want. Treat you really well, give you a discount.” He looked her in the eye and she blushed.

“Oh yeah?”

Mikey dipped his head. “Yep.”

“I might do that.”

“Think about it.” He winked.

Jennifer walked away, smiling demurely over her shoulder.

CHAPTER TWO

Grace

Grace parked her car in her father’s driveway. She leaned her head back on the seat. Her mother’s birthday party was coming up and she dreaded the whole thing. As she got out of her car and approached the side door, Grace went over the speech she’d memorized. This year she wouldn’t be joining her dad in the celebration. Not only was it depressing and slightly morbid, it was unhealthy. Her mother had passed away over ten years ago.

She used her spare key to let herself into the house. The lights were off in the kitchen.

“Dad?” she called out. The lights in the front living room were also off. “Dad? Are you home?” No answer. She checked the rest of the house. Wandering toward her parents’ bedroom, she knocked on the closed door. Still no answer. Grace ducked her head inside the room and glanced around. The bedding was rumpled. Normally her dad kept the bed made. She approached the mattress and threw the patchwork bedspread over the exposed pale yellow sheets. She stood back, looking at the half-assed job she’d done at making the bed.

The phone rang on the nightstand. She smirked at her father’s insistence on still having a land-line and picked up the handset. “Hello?”

“Oh, hi. Grace? This is Marianne at Cake Happens Bake—”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, um, I wanted to let you know your mother’s cake will be ready for pick-up at—”

Oh God, Dad.

“Yeah. I see. Thanks.”

“Is there something wrong?” Marianne asked hesitantly.

“Do you think you could—oh never mind. All right, I’ll let my dad know. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Grace hung up the phone and went back into the kitchen. She wrote a note about the cake only after realizing that her father must have forgotten their dinner plans again. No sense in using a guilt trip on him. This was her father’s favorite weapon. And it was effective. How was she ever going to tell him she didn’t want to mark her mother’s birthday?

Back in her car and on the road again, she pulled into the parking lot at Hector’s. The bells over the door jangled. A waitress with a swinging blonde and pink ponytail greeted Grace as she walked by the entrance. “Have a seat anywhere you like, ma’am.”

Since when had she become a ma’am? Funny how something as innocuous as ‘ma’am’ made her question herself with things like, ‘Oh my God, do I look that old?’ and ‘What have I done with my life?’ She had done plenty: she’d mourned her mother’s death at twenty, had a thriving CPA practice, and a divorce under her belt. Okay, she was a ma’am.

She sighed heavily as she sank in a booth across the aisle from a dark sandy-blond haired man. The guy glanced in her direction and his eyes lingered on her face longer than made her comfortable. She shied a little at the scrutiny. He was gorgeous. Tattoos peeked out below his t-shirt. A motorcycle helmet sat on the bench opposite him. She noted the overhead lights highlighted the shiny black enamel. In an instant she thought the man was everything she wasn’t—wild, free, and adventurous. Sexy.

Miss Pink-n-blonde set a soda and a glass of water on his table. Grace tried not to stare but found it impossible. A pang of envy pinched her insides. What was this now? She didn’t know the guy. He spoke with a deep voice when he ordered.

Oh. Dear. God.

He leaned back for a better view of the waitress’ ass, except he didn’t ogle the girl. He looked at Grace. She turned red, smiled crookedly, and pretended to peruse the menu. A breeze lifted the ends of her hair. Grace looked up through her lashes. The waitress ba-donk-a-donked away, swinging her hips. She rolled her eyes at the menu on the table in front of her. When she looked up, hot guy had turned in his booth toward her.

“There’s something familiar about you. Have we met?”

Grace’s heart sped up, excited he spoke to her. “No.” She shrunk into the booth. Her face tightened.

He swiveled back around and faced his table. “Sorry. I didn’t mean bother you.”

She exhaled loudly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, I’m sorry. You’re trying to make conversation with me and I shut you down. It’s…forget it. Sorry.” Grace’s eyes never left the menu. Her cheeks heated. An image of her lying dead in her apartment surrounded by thirteen cats eating her eyeballs made her shiver. She sensed his eyes on her again and forced herself to look him in the face.

“Don’t sweat it.”

The waitress interrupted the embarrassing moment. “What can I get you?”

“Uh, I’ll have a Coney, fries, and a diet Pepsi.”

“Everything on it?”

“Yep. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Pink-n-blonde shimmied off toward the kitchen.

“Her name’s Jennifer if you need anything. She’s cool,” he said.

“What?” Grace filed the menu behind the condiments caddy.

“Nothing. Just trying out more conversation.”

Grace giggled quietly. His tone sounded like she wasn’t the only one nervous. However, he never blushed. “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged and sipped his soda through the straw.

That was stupid. She didn’t have any question lined up, she wanted to hear him talk some more. “Umm…” There was a ridiculous amount of gape-mouthed staring on her part and no talking.

“Yeah?” His eyes widened and he smiled. “Did you have a question or…?”

“I guess not.” She laughed. “God. You can ignore me.” Her feline demise was a real possibility. When would she stop living in the backseat of her life and get behind the wheel?

He sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Well, see, now I can’t do that.”

She looked at him sharply. “Oh God. Why not?”

“You caught my attention. Well, truthfully you grabbed my attention when you walked through the door.”

Yikes. Holy crap.

The man wasn’t nervous like she thought before. “Can you at least make an effort?” she squeaked.

“Nope,” he chuckled. “I’m Mikey Hardin by the way.”

“Grace Bell.” Divorcee spinster she felt like adding. She put her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek on her palm.

“Hey, uh, listen. This restaurant is dead tonight. You wanna sit here?” He gestured to the seat across from him.

“Um…” She glanced at the floor and thought about flesh-eating Siamese cats.

He waved her off. “It’s all right, you don’t—”

“No. I mean, okay, why not?” Grace blurted. She stepped over to his booth and pursed her lips. “What should I do with your helmet?”

“Oh, sorry. My bad.” He got up and removed his helmet from the seat.

The waitress came over with his food and her drink. “Your food will be up in a minute,” she told Grace. Mikey thanked Jennifer and the girl’s eyes lingered on him.

“So, that question you weren’t going to ask me earlier…”

“Yeah?”

“Was there ever a question?”

Grace smiled. “I don’t know?” She searched his face for a reaction.

“O-kay. Cool.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m too weird.”

“I make you nervous.”

“A little.” After she answered, Grace realized that was a statement on his part, not a question. Jennifer dropped off her Coney-dog and fries. The waitress set a bottle of ketchup on the table before she left again. Grace busied herself squirting the Heinz all over her fries and putting a napkin on her lap.

CHAPTER THREE

Mikey

Grace defined beautiful. Mikey smiled at her single-minded focus on her French fries. She glanced at him as she brought a golden crispy up to her lips. The less than a millimeter gap (he’d measured once) between his two front teeth seemed as wide as the Grand Canyon. She may have been nervous but he was self-conscious. He put a couple of fingers up to his mouth then felt silly and removed them. He’d been smiling so much she would have already seen the space anyway.

They spent the next thirty minutes eating and chatting between bites. Mikey leaned back against the seat after Jennifer cleared their plates. They talked for a long time even after their waitress had glared at him and slapped the check on the table. He knew why too.

“I never asked, what do you do for a living?” she asked.

“I own Ink Addiction.”

“The tattoo parlor? You’re a tattoo artist?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” She studied the condensation on her glass of soda. “My mother passed away about eleven years ago.”

“Sucks doesn’t it? Both of my parents are gone now. What about you? Is your dad still aroun—?”

“Do you live near here? I mean,” she giggled, “do you come here often?”

He tilted his head back and laughed. “Every Sunday. Well, I guess it’s Monday night now but usually I only come on Sunday nights.”

“Only Sundays, huh? No, I’m sorry, I should’ve have said that.” She covered her mouth with her hand.

He chuckled and reminded himself not to get cocky and screw this up. He opened his mouth to speak then thought better of it and smiled instead.

Grace yawned. “Listen, it was nice meeting you. But it’s getting late.”

“Yeah. We should do this again sometime. Preferably somewhere nicer.”

“I’d like that.” She dug inside her purse and handed him a business card. “Call me.” The raven-haired beauty slid out of the booth. She waved goodbye and turned, only to pivot back around. “What do I owe for my part of the check?”

He waved her off. “I got it.”

“Oh no. I can’t.”

“We’re good,” he winked. “Get out of here. I’ll call you and you can make it up to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Talk to you later, Grace.”

She dipped her head. “Thanks. Bye.”

Mikey watched her all the way to the door. She turned back and glanced at him before she left, a smile lighting up her face.

He picked up his helmet and walked up to the register to pay the bill. Jennifer took the twenty-eight dollars he offered.

“How late are you working tonight?” he asked.

She checked the clock on the wall. “I get off in about an hour. Why, what’s it to you? You strike out with that chick?”

Hmm…Okay, he deserved that. “You keep the change all right, darlin’?”

She glanced down and realized he’d given her a ten-dollar tip. “Ah, thanks. Sorry if I was—”

“Well, have a good night and be safe. That parking lot out there is pretty dark.”

“Yeah, I know. Some jerk keeps shooting the bulbs out.”

Mikey surveyed the restaurant. The several diners that had come in earlier still remained. Once outside, he laced his fingers, stretching his arms over his head. He mounted his bike and looked around before starting the Harley. He sat enjoying the vibration and familiar “potato, potato” from the exhaust. There was no substitute for the shovelhead and single-pin crank. Three cars were parked by the dumpster near the rear of the building, in the darkest part of the lot. The smallest one, a Chevy Spark, belonged to Jennifer.

***

TUESDAY

12:05 a.m.

The killer’s breath caught in his throat when he spotted the girl. Her hair was up in a…what did they call that hair style? …pigtail. She was young, blonde, and had a love of bright pink, evident from the streaks of the color in her hair. He readjusted his position in his car seat.

The girl fished her keys out of her purse as she made her way around to the side of Hector’s Coney Island to her car. His timing had to be perfect. From his vantage point he could no longer see her, so he left his vehicle. He wasn't the largest of men, but he was strong and could easily overpower her.

“Hey,” he said to get her attention. He spoke with a kindness to his voice as to not spook the girl.

“Hi,” she said, guarded. “What are you doing out here?” She looked at her surroundings and visually measured the distance to her car, clutching her purse close to her side.

“I was wondering if you had the time?” He pointed at one of his wrists.

“Midnight. Don’t you have a phone?” She walked faster and glanced behind her.

“Not on me.”

“It’s late. I’ve got to get home.” Her eyes widened when he moved closer to her. She held her purse tighter. “I have pepper spray,” she said, swallowing hard.

His eyes narrowed. “Do you?”

She tried to run. Abruptly, he put his hand out and grabbed the leather strap of her handbag. With it still draped over her shoulder, she couldn't escape. A muffled scream left her lips as he wrapped his hand around her face and covered her mouth. He pulled her flush against his chest.

He marched her back over to his idling car. The parking lot was poorly lit. The lamps had been knocked out the week before by a pellet gun. Shooting wasn't the killer’s forte so he'd paid cash to a couple kids he knew from his neighborhood, the type that wouldn't squeal.

The lid to his trunk was down but not locked. Jennifer tried to squirm away from him but he picked her up with little effort. When she managed to kick him, he swung her around and slammed the heel of his palm into her jaw. Her head rocked back and she lost consciousness. He shoved her into the trunk.

CHAPTER FOUR

Harry

The rhythmic knocking of the windshield wipers aggravated Detective Harry Hunter. Driving to a fresh crime scene always stressed him out and the noise seemed louder than normal. He saw the red and blue strobes through a blurry windshield and continued in the direction of the emergency vehicles. The Crime Scene Investigators' truck and uniformed officers were gathered near the side of the road. This stretch of two-lane was a bridge that covered a ravine. Springtime meant the bottom of the valley was flooded with water, and the rain only made things more miserable. Several cops looked over the edge at the terrain below. Harry stepped from his vehicle and looked up at the sky. The rain continued to pour with no signs of stopping. He blinked water out of his eyes.

Harry ducked under the caution tape. The yellow plastic ribbon had been placed lower than it usually was. Right? Or he was just getting old?

“Who called it in?” Harry asked while he peered over the side.

“Kids on a nature hike,” a cop answered from behind him.

Harry swore under his breath, again with kids finding a body. In his experience, with the similar description of the victim and cause of death, they might be looking at a serial killer.

ME Tech Daniels approached Harry. The man’s boots and pants were covered in mud. Dammit. The crime scene was already contaminated. With the rain, any attempt at gathering evidence would be pretty much pointless. “COD?”

“Crushed skull, so blunt force trauma, I'm assuming. We'll know more after the ME reports his findings.”

Harry groaned.

“Removal of the body has been cleared by the ME.” Daniels said.

Harry already knew that. The fact he wasn't the first on the scene to lead the search annoyed him. He had preferences when it came to how a scene was explored for evidence, a spiral pattern starting from the victim and circling out was what he thought was best. Although it may not be the most efficient, he liked to search this way. Harry made his way down the embankment to join the search for evidence. Fat raindrops pattered his rain-jacket reminding him of the drippy faucet his late wife had nagged him to fix.

The female victim lay face down in the bottom of the shallow stream which ran under the road. She was drenched. Strands of pink hair were threaded through the blonde. She wore a black skirt of some kind, hiked up to her hips, her pantyhose were torn in many places, and her bloody white t-shirt was plastered to her body. Harry could almost taste the old meat smell of death. No matter how many times he'd rolled up on these scenes he found himself covering his nose and mouth with a napkin. There was a stash of them in his coat pocket. Her hands had already been covered with plastic bags and taped at the wrists. Maybe they’d get lucky and some DNA under her fingernails from her attacker had survived the creek.

Any evidence collection in this slop proved nearly impossible. What the stream hadn't washed away, the rain had. Nothing left but the poor girl and her clothes. Harry caught a glimpse of her face as she was turned over. The sight of her slack jaw and muddy appearance etched into his memory. Some things never got easier to see and could never be forgotten, especially since Harry had a daughter of his own. The whirring sound of a winch started up. Slowly, the stretcher rose.

By the time Harry crawled back up the embankment, the young woman’s body had been loaded into the back of an ambulance. He thought about Mikey Hardin and how the guy’s ex-wife was also a blonde.

CHAPTER FIVE

Mikey

“Thanks for the ride, man,” Mikey told his best friend Brad.

“No prob. Do you want me to wait? See if it starts?”

“Why wouldn't it start?”

“Because it’s been parked out front of your psycho ex-wife’s house for the last forty-eight hours.”

Amazed neither his ex-wife nor the police had towed the car, Mikey laughed and got out of Brad’s Jeep. “Whatever, man. But yeah, stay.”

“That's what I thought,” Brad said, chuckling to himself.

The engine cranked over like it should. When Mikey looked over at Brad, he gave him the thumbs-up and looked relieved, like Cynthia may have wired a bomb to the ignition. With a honk, Brad pulled away from the curb.

Mikey killed the engine. He dreaded going over and ringing the front door bell of his ex's house. However, his desire to see his ten-year-old son won out. As he got out of the car, Brayden, shot out of the front door. “Hey, kid.” Mikey lifted Brayden into his arms and hugged him.

“Hi, Dad. Whatcha doing here?”

He knew his son was worried because he glanced up the street both ways as if he was expecting the police to come screaming up the block. He wondered if Brayden had been traumatized after the fiasco of his father being arrested. He shivered the idea away.

“I missed you,” Mikey told his son.

“I miss you too.”

Mikey set him down and walked back to the porch with his son. Only the screen door was closed. Mikey couldn't resist the urge to peer inside and was surprised when he didn’t see Cynthia lurking in the hallway like she usually did.

Cynthia's garage door trundled up, the wheels squealing along its track, adding to Mikey’s irritation. Cynthia’s car turned into the driveway. He cringed.

“Mom's home,” Brayden said with the enthusiasm of a dental patient.

“Why don't you go back inside? I'll see you next weekend.” Mikey placed his hand on his son's head and mussed his hair. Brayden nodded and retreated behind the screen door.

Mikey went and stood directly behind his ex-wife's car so she couldn't close the garage. He beckoned her with the crook of his finger. She peeked at him out of her rear view mirror. Her lips moved in the mirror and she swore before she exited her car.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, glowering at her.

“I guess so. You're here, aren't you?”

Man, she was unbelievably snotty. He thought about squeezing her neck and snorted to himself. “How long did you leave my son home alone?” He placed his hands on his hips.

Cynthia stepped up close to him. Even though she invaded his space, he remained planted to the ground and didn’t budge. “He's our son, in case you forgot. And what I do with him on my time is my business, not yours. I don't tell you what you can and cannot do when he's with you.” She pushed a finger into his chest.

“I don't want you endangering him. Who knows what could happen while you're gone? You don't have a land-line. What if there’s an emergency? What then, huh?” He chose not to raise his voice because there was no reason for the neighbors to hear. Or Brayden.

“Don't tell me how to raise my son!”

“What happened to he's ours?” He started losing his patience. A little longer until he could get into his car and then he could lose it.

“You don't care about him. You never cared about him!” Her eyes darted across the street to the neighbor watering flowers, who was now looking over, and at someone walking their dog. Mikey caught a hint of a smug expression on Cynthia’s face when she turned back.

“What are you talking about? I'm the only one of us who does care,” he snarled.

“Then why did you leave us!? You cheated!”

Mikey nearly choked on that one. “Excuse me? You're crazy. I never cheated on you. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“Then why did you leave? I'll tell you why. You never loved me! Your drinking always mattered more!”

“I'm not having this conversation with you.” He turned and walked away, shaking his head.

Mikey got into his car and slammed the door shut. He beat the steering wheel with his fist a couple of times. “Fuck! God, I hate that bitch.” He put the car in drive and peeled away from the curb, tires squealing.

CHAPTER SIX

Grace

Her hair refused to cooperate and Mikey was on his way over. Grace had agreed to go out with him, except now she was having difficulty justifying the date with the state of the mop on top of her head. Her hair was a disaster.

Time for a ponytail.

The doorbell rang.

Grace opened the door and hitched a breath. She'd forgotten how handsome he was.

Hello, Gorgeous.

“Please come in,” she managed to say.

“Hi,” Mr. Gorgeous said.

After he crossed the threshold, she turned to shut the door and mouthed, holy crap, behind his back.

“Did you say something?” he asked.

“Uh, no.” Grace prayed she hadn't said that out loud. She gazed up at his slate-blue eyes. “Um, I was thinking we could go to this one restaurant if—”

“I made reservations. A friend of mine owns a restaurant.”

“Oh, your friend owns a restaurant? That’s cool. What’s the name of it?” she asked, truly interested, but looked at the floor.

“Cocoa.”

Oh my God.

That was only her favorite restaurant. “Your friend owns Cocoa?” Her cheeks warmed. She liked this guy already, even if she had some doubts about him.

“I take it you approve.”

“Oh God yes. I love that place. Especially their desserts. Let’s go. I'm starved.” She snagged her purse off the back of the couch and ushered him out the door, forgetting about her stupid hair.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Harry

“What the hell is this now?” Harry said aloud. He closed the email account that collected tips from “do-gooder” citizens and other nut-jobs who thought they knew something about open investigations. Some of his peers lived by and pursued possible suspects based on the information. However, Harry loathed the primarily useless fodder.

The email he'd read had been signed “Scared,” and accused Mikey Hardin. Of what? Harry wasn't sure as there were no specifics. He shook his head and swore under his breath. He’d reconsidered his earlier thought at the roadside crime scene. It hadn’t set right with him. Hardin shared custody of his ten-year-old son with his ex-wife and owned a business, even if it was a tattoo parlor. However, he didn't exactly know the man well, apart from a couple of AA meetings from years ago he attended to remind himself why he no longer drank. During the sharing portion, the man never said anything that alarmed Harry or made him think Hardin would murder someone. He let out a long sigh and rubbed his jaw.

Putting his personal opinions aside, he flipped open the Hardin file and read the report again. Nothing made sense. He closed the file and grabbed the Jennifer Swanson murder file, reviewed the notes. She’d worked at Hector’s Coney Island and her car had been left in the parking lot after her last shift. The cook was interviewed and told police that the restaurant had been quiet that night. Harry sat up straighter the further he read, absently sipping his coffee. He spat the cold instant Folgers back into the disposable cup. A few new faces and some regulars had also come in that night. And one frequenter in particular—Mikey Hardin.

By the time Harry was done dissecting all the evidence that had been collected so far, all the photos were laid out on his desk and the papers were strewn about.

Amongst the mess a frame with his daughter’s picture stood out. There was no denying it he was relieved she wasn't a blonde and the furthest from a blonde with ebony hair. And God help anyone who would harm her.

He picked up his phone and dialed Mikey’s number to invite him down to the station in the morning for a talk over some bad tasting coffee. The call immediately went to voice mail. He left a message.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mikey

The easy banter on the way to the restaurant put any misgivings Mikey had about Grace to rest. She was much more down to earth than he remembered. He'd been somewhat edgy on the way to her house after the confrontation with Cynthia. Her insanity was exponentially worsening.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Mikey picked up his cell phone from the table. He silenced the “UNKNOWN” caller and set it face down.

“Did you have to get that? I mean, it’s okay if you need—”

“Unknown. I don't answer those.”

“Me either. If it’s that important they'll leave     a—”

The phone chirped signifying a voice mail waited.

“Maybe you should—”

“Nope. I’d much rather listen to you.” His eyes lingered on her mouth. He’d wanted to kiss her ever since he’d picked her up for their date. Grace was lovely; black hair, hazel eyes, and full lips.

They stared at each other until the waiter came up to their table moments later. “Would you like to see our dessert menu?”

When Grace didn’t say anything right away Mikey started to ask for the bill. “No, just the—”

“Um, can I see the dessert menu, please?”

“Of course.” The waiter smiled and left the table.

Mikey grinned lopsidedly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted anything.”

“I love their red velvet brownie. I know I don’t need it, but it’s a special night…”

“It’s my favorite too. That’s so funny. And you’re right, this is a special night. I don’t date a lot. I travel for work a few times a month. As I said before, every other weekend I have my son. So…”

“Your job sounds exciting.”

He chuckled. “It has its moments. Sometimes the clients are assholes, though.”

Grace threw her head back and laughed. “How do you mean? What do they say or…do?”

“Well, some want tattoos that aren’t possible or in locations that I won’t do.”

“Where?” she asked, her eyes shining in the candlelight.

Mikey blushed, thinking about how to explain where. “Um, think of the weirdest place and you’re probably right.”

Now he could see she was conjuring up some wild stuff. Her eyes lit up with an idea, although she hesitated.

“What are you thinking?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, getting ready to speak. The waiter showed up with the dessert menu.

Damn.

He’d been so looking forward to hearing what she’d come up with.

“I already know what I want,” Grace told the waiter. “The red velvet brownie. Mikey, do you want to split it or have one all to yourself?”

“I’m not a pig, we can share. They’re huge.”

“I know, right? I can never finish a whole one.” She handed the menu back to their waiter.

“Very well, thank you,” the waiter said before retreating.

“Okay. What did you come up with?” Mikey asked.

“Penis,” Grace gushed.

Now it was Mikey’s turn to throw his head back and laugh. “Actually, that’s not the weirdest. It’s more common than you might think.”

“No way!”

“People have asked for that and more. Like all the way around to their ass-crack more.”

“Ewww. Aren’t they embarrassed? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“Not really,” Mikey laughed. “Only embarrassed when you asked me about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“So you don’t do tattoos there?”

“Nope.” He put his palms up and shook his head. “Once was enough and never again.”

“How many do you have?” She glanced at his arms. For an owner of a tattoo parlor and artist, he wasn’t covered from head to toe.

“Not that many. I like larger tattoos. Most of my back is covered with a single design. But they’re all over.

“Oooh. Of what?”

“I'll have to show you some time,” he winked.

The waiter returned with the dessert.

“Could I have another Chardonnay, please?” Grace asked, holding up her glass. The waiter whisked the long-stem away. “Thank you.” Grace glanced at Mikey’s half-full soda on the table. “I hope you don’t think I normally drink this much, I…I’m a little nervous.”

The waiter returned with her beverage.

“It’s okay,” Mikey said. “I wasn’t thinking you were an alcoholic. And I’m not a wine person.”

She raised her glass to her lips. “Why don’t you join me with a beer or something?”

“I’m driving. It’s not a good idea if I drink.”

CHAPTER NINE

Grace

Grace watched the blur of storefronts and pedestrians whiz by from Mikey’s passenger seat. Cocoa was located in the downtown area of South Webster. Their dinner had been excellent and the conversation flirty, but true to herself, her nerves took over and the car ride was silent. Her need for a different life, a more exciting life, wandered away and took shelter under a rock where it could stay comfortable, hiding behind Painfully-Lonely and Afraid-To-Take-Chances. She had a way of lying to herself about what made her happy and whole.

“Do you trust me?”

Mikey’s sudden question jolted her back to her present reality, riding in a car with a hot guy. She hoped he hadn’t seen her reaction.

She swallowed. “Um, yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Okay. That was very convincing.”

“Well…” God, what was wrong with her?

“It’s all right. We hardly know each other. I’ll take you home.” The defeat in his voice was unmistakable.

Grace flopped her head back on the head rest.

Great.

The first night of trying to alter the course of her life; fail. She panicked and said the first thing that popped into her brain. “Give me a reason to trust you.”

What? What did that even mean?

“Hmm.” He glanced at her. “Do you like motorcycles?”

Grace twisted her face up. “Oooh, kind of frightening. Why?” she asked tentatively.

“Thought you might like a ride. And this way, if we don’t die, you’ll have a reason to trust me.”

“Funny. But uhhh, I don’t know, maybe. I’ve never been on one before.” She sucked in a breath between her teeth. “Not sure I’d like it.”

“Tell you what, I’ll show it to you and see what you think. If not, I’ll take you home.”

“Okay, but I’m not sure I’ll get on it.”

“Fair enough.” Mikey drove another block and made a U-turn back to his house.

***

Grace had to admit, he looked sexy as hell straddling his bike. The gas tank had a shiny black finish while the rest of the mechanics were a matte black. The whole motorcycle was black.

“What kind is it?”

Mikey pointed to the metal emblem on the side of the tank.

Her face turned red. “Yeah, I guess I can read.”

“You really don’t know anything about bikes do you?”

“Why do you ask?”

He stared at her with that lopsided grin of his. “One thing before we ride. You lean into turns. The natural reflex is to lean the opposite way, but not on a motorcycle.”

Mikey rose from the seat, put a key in the ignition, turned it, and did some other things Grace didn’t have a clue at, then kick-started the road monster. He’d said it was a street model with some letters or numbers after it. Truthfully, she hadn’t listened to what he’d said. Like it mattered anyway. She wasn’t going to get on it.

A helmet sat on a shelf behind her in the garage. When he pointed to it, she brought it over.

“Put it on!” he yelled over the idling engine. She shook her head, pretending not to hear him. “The strap adjusts.”

Grace counted on this being the worst experience ever. She placed the helmet on her head and fiddled with the chin strap, all thumbs. Her fingers didn’t want to cooperate, probably because this was going to be the last time they were attached to her hands.

Mikey watched her struggle and intervened. He fastened the strap. She ungracefully mounted the bike and sat behind him. His head rose above hers, even though his seat was positioned lower than hers. He reached behind, grasped her hands, and wrapped them around his waist. The engine roared and the death-machine lurched forward. Grace let out a whimper and clutched his torso higher up.

His body quivered as he chuckled. Mikey lifted his legs and pulled them in then they were off. He made a wide turn out of his driveway. Now what was she supposed to remember?

Crap. Lean into turns.

This proved more difficult to do. He was right; she wanted to lean the other way. To compensate she held Mikey closer and turned her head to the side. Maybe if she didn’t look ahead, she wouldn’t be so afraid of becoming roadkill.

Her entire body shaking gave her muscles a workout and sweat had broken out all over her skin. He increased their speed and the purr of the engine grew louder. Soon he would turn onto the main drag that ran next to his subdivision. The speed limit was forty-five and about forty-four miles per hour faster than she wanted to go.

The corner came up quick. Grace squeezed him tighter when the bike felt like it would fall over. She held her breath. They came out of the turn still on two wheels and wind roared past her ears, despite the helmet.

Cars on the road passed them left and right. She inhaled and exhaled in a steady rhythm, her death-grip starting to ease some. She explained to her inner wild child how much fun this was. Yep. So much fun; a rollercoaster-ride on two wheels with an asphalt cheese grater as a safety net.

The leather jacket Mikey had thrown on and the one he’d insisted she wear made it hard to feel the muscles he undoubtedly had underneath. She imagined sculpted abs and a fantastic chest.

Wait.

What do you know? The visual had a calming effect on her nerves.

After another turn she realized they were headed toward her apartment building. And she was just starting to get the hang of this. He must’ve felt her tension ease, because he throttled up and they went faster. The sudden burst forward made her stomach bottom out, but instead of feeling the overwhelming fear that was keeping its mouth shut for once, she giggled. She had fun letting herself go.

As they continued the ride back to her home with two more turns and stretches of highway, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face or her laughter inside. When they pulled into her parking lot, she wanted more.

“That was awesome!” Grace gushed after he cut the engine. They took turns dismounting the bike with her going first.

“Does this mean you trust me now?”

“We’re still alive, so yeah. Oh my God, we have to do that again sometime.” She took the helmet off and handed it over.

“Keep it. It doesn’t fit me.” His eyes were in shadow, but she knew they were smiling too, like his mouth.

He perched on the seat with both feet in front of him, looking up at her with that lopsided grin of his.

“What?” she asked, and traced the outline of his lips with her eyes.

“I wanna kiss you goodnight.”

She smiled at the ground. He reached for her hand and pulled her closer. His legs opened to allow her space between his knees. When she closed her eyes, his hands cupped the sides of her face. He pressed his lips to hers. A short, sensual kiss, followed by a longer, more intense one. Grace leaned into him, placed her hands on his chest. His hands left her face; one slid around her waist and the other got lost in her hair. She thought about pulling away, the heat between them too much. This feeling was unfamiliar. Her ex-husband had accused her of being icy. But she wasn't cold, was she?

Mikey moaned against her mouth. He tried to part her lips with his tongue. When she refused entry, he asked, “You all right?” Fire torched her face and she wondered if it were possible to turn a color past red. She looked away. “I…”

“It's okay. I should go anyway.” He set her back up on the curb.

Well that was great. Her first night of trying something new and this happened.

She turned to walk away then spun around and grabbed hold of the open halves of his jacket. He smiled briefly. Their lips met a second later. This time she opened up for him.

CHAPTER TEN

Mikey

The TV glowed in the dark of Mikey's living room. He'd fallen asleep on the couch after he dropped Grace off at her apartment. Even though it was six o'clock in the morning, the living room stayed dark. The blackout shades kept most of the daylight out of the room.

The sudden change in sound on the TV woke him up. Wired after his date, he'd flipped on the flat screen and dozed off. With his eyes still closed, he half listened to the news. He stretched his arms over his head and his legs out, bending them at the ankles, yawning widely.

“…possible serial killer…” the news anchor said.

This got his ears working properly. He glued his eyes to the screen as photos of a happy and alive certain waitress with pink streaked blonde hair were displayed.

“The victim, Jennifer Swanson, was found by a group of teenagers police say. Authorities are interviewing possible suspects and…”

According to the news, the body had been found last evening while he'd been out with Grace. Thank God she didn't have blonde hair.

Mikey dangled his arm over the side of the couch and groped around in the pocket of his jeans for his phone. A voice mail notification showed on the screen. He had three messages. The first message was from Detective Hunter. He sat up and listened to the voice mail.

Shit!

When it was over, he called the number back.

“Detective Hunter,” the man answered with gravel in his throat.

“This is Mikey Hardin, you called?”

“Yeah. We need you to come to the station. When I didn't hear back from you—”

“I'll be right down.” Mikey didn't wait for a response before he hung up.

He shoved his feet into his shoes, grabbed his wallet, keys, and ran out of the house, unsure why he was racing across town for another meeting with the cops.

There were one hundred ninety-two ceiling tiles in the interrogation room. Halfway into figuring out the number of floor tiles, Hunter walked in.

Harry Hunter stared at him. “I'm going to skip the bullshit. Where were you Tuesday morning between twelve and two a.m.?”

“I didn't do anything.”

“Where were you?”

“What's this about?” In the car on the way over, he’d convinced himself this wasn’t about Jennifer.

“You really need to watch the news,” Harry said and shook his head.

Mikey’s knee involuntarily bounced up and down. The detective stared at him for a couple of seconds.

“A girl was found. Took a fatal blow to the back of the head.” Harry’s brows knitted together.

“What girl? Oh, I saw that report. On the news. Just before—” A surprised expression appeared on the cop's face. “I fell asleep with the TV on last night.”

“Oh, so you do watch TV?” Hunter questioned.

Mikey shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Did you know her?

“She's a waitress at Hector’s Coney Island. I go there frequently. But I wouldn't say I know her. She waited on me the other night.”

“Mmm. Interesting.” Harry pressed his lips together.

“What's interesting?”

“Your candor, among other things.”

“Why lie? I didn't do anything wrong. And what other things?”

“You talked about the victim as if she were still alive. Believe me, she's definitely dead. So, do you have an alibi for Tuesday or not?”

“I do.” Mikey looked toward the ceiling and sighed. “I had dinner with someone at Hector’s and left around eleven on Monday night then went to my friend’s restaurant, Cocoa, and hung out.”

“Does this someone have a name?” Harry asked, looking bored.

Mikey moaned. “Do we have to involve her? We recently met and I like her. Listen, I was at my friend's restaurant from about eleven-thirty until closing, which is about 2:30. He can verify I was there. Brad Winston is his name, owns Cocoa.”

“Oh, pardon me, swanky place there. I know someone who loves that restaurant. Can't understand why,” the detective said as he jotted a note down inside a brown folder.

“Not your crowd, I take it?”

Harry shook his head. “A little fancy for my tastes.”

“I wouldn't go there if my buddy didn't own it. But who can pass up free food?”

“I could.”

“Really?” Mikey lifted his chin and glanced over the table.

“Nice. Real fuckin' nice.” Harry sucked in his stomach and flattened the front of his shirt. “Your alibi better check out.”

“It will.”

“So you wouldn't mind if I called Brad Winston now, would you?”

“Aren't you gonna do that anyway?”

Detective Hunter snorted. “You've got to be the strangest suspect, I've ever met.”

“I'll take that. You have no idea the types of people I've met over the years in my line of work. Strange is good. Celebrated even. Am I a suspect?”

Harry grunted. “Not sure, but someone out there doesn't like you.”

“I know, tell me about.” Mikey assumed the detective was referring to Cynthia.

Hunter looked at him curiously. “Who doesn't like you?”

“The ex-wife. Who else?”

“Oh…yeah, right.” He nodded then walked out the door.

Mikey closed his eyes. “Fuckin' shit motherfucker.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Harry

Cocoa. What kind of a name was that for a restaurant? Harry had never been inside, but from the outside it seemed like a place he wouldn't like. He walked in and no surprise, he’d been correct in his assessment. However, now the name made sense. The inside smelled like chocolate. Panels of shiny brown fabric draped down the walls like curtains, some partially covering tall windows, and some were merely decoration. Harry’s eyes focused on the only thing that wasn’t a shade of brown. Three tiers of liquor bottles lined the wall behind a white marble topped bar. He inhaled sharply. Expensive, top shelf, good old-fashioned alcohol. Oh, man.

“Would you like a table, sir?” The hostess interrupted his no-good-can-come-of-this thoughts.

“I was looking for your owner, Brad Winston,” he said, handing her his business card. She glanced at it, but it didn't register any alarms that he could tell. Perhaps she only eyed the card out of courtesy.

She picked up the phone behind her podium, dialed, and spoke into the phone. After a few minutes a gentleman in a chef’s uniform came out of the back wiping his hands on a white brown-stained apron.

“Can I help you?” he asked. The hostess handed him the card. “Detective Harold Hunter?”

“I hope so. Are you Brad Winston?”

“That’s me. What can I do—?”

“Can we talk more privately?”

“Yeah sure, but what’s this about?” Brad inquired while he led Harry through the kitchen into an office at the far end. A stronger chocolate smell mixed with garlic and other spices assaulted Harry’s nose as they passed the stoves. Several other cooks glanced up then continued with whatever they were doing.

Brad closed them inside his office and planted his butt on the edge of the desk. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“You were named as an alibi.”

Brad’s eyes widened. “Alibi? For who?”

“Mikey Hardin. He said he was here Monday night. Hung around till close. Do you know him?” Harry ran a finger along his face-stubble.

The muscles in Brad’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. I do. And yes he was here. What’s this ab—?”

“Police business. What time was he here and when did he leave?”

“He was here about eleven-thirty, sat at the bar and sipped coffee, keeping my wife company while she tended bar. He left about two-thirtyish when we closed. What happened?”

Harry wrote down the times in his little black field interview notebook. “Like I said, police—”

“Business. Yeah I know,” Brad finished for him. “Mikey’s a good guy. I'm sure whatever it is you think he did, he didn't.” Brad looked him directly in the eye.

“How long have you known him?”

“All my life. Grew up together.”

“I see. Friends for life,” Harry nodded.

“What exactly are you implying, Detective Hunter?”

Harry sighed. “I'm not implying anything.”

Brad wrinkled his nose. “Do you smell that?”

Harry sniffed the air. “What am I supposed to be smelling, Mr. Winston?”

Brad smirked. “I told you what you wanted to know. And since you're trying to bait me, I figure his alibi passed your test. So if you don't mind, I have to get back to work.” He started for the door.

Harry scratched his head. Was this some kind of joke? “Am I bothering you, Mr. Winston?”

Brad sighed. “A little. The dinner rush starts in ten minutes.”

“Excuse me, but I think you ought to know your friend is a murder suspect. So you might want to tone down that attitude of yours.”

“Pfft.” Brad rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Pfft what? This is a serious allegation.”

Mr. Winston shook his head. “Yeah. You don’t know Mikey. I do.”

“You sure about that?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Mikey

Lining up the instruments of his craft always comforted Mikey. He prided himself on always using the best quality inks and tattooing needles. He pulled over the rolling tray he used for holding the inks, towels, and other items he needed while he worked. His first client of the day, Cody Pollard, who had become a regular over the past year, liked for him to be ready to work when he arrived. Across the way, one of the other artists watched his ministrations. Everyone called him Needles Ned even though his name was Eric. A long beard grew from his chin and was tied together in several places with rubber-bands. And of course, he was covered in tattoos.

Needles grimaced. “You got that weirdo coming in again?”

“What?”

“That freak,” he sneered. “That’s the only time you do all this,” he swirled his hand around.

“What? Get myself set up?” Mikey chuckled. “You’re crazy, man.”

“You ain’t just setting-up like usual. That guy set you off or something?”

“I dunno what you mean.” Mikey glanced at his tray. Maybe the guy had a point. Everything he could possibly need cluttered the stainless steel, including extra towels, ink cups and flat needles used for shading. Cody never had his tattoos shaded.

Needles snorted. “What I mean is—”

“Yeah. I know what you meant. Part of me wishes he’d take his biz someplace else. But money’s money.”

“I guess. I’m glad I don’t gotta do it. Personally, I don’t like the guy.”

At three P.M. sharp the motion sensitive doorbell chimed. Mikey stood to ward off the receptionist. His client didn't like to be held up. Cody's back went rigid as he spoke with Suzie, the current revolving-door receptionist.

“It's all right, darlin', he can come back,” he told her.

“Oh sorry, I didn't realize he was one of yours.”

Mikey waved his punctual client over. He patted the adjustable tattoo bed. “Have a seat.”

Cody settled into the seat and made no eye contact with him. After what seemed like decades of readjusting his position, he looked up.

Mikey concentrated hard on not sighing. “Ready?”

“I want a name on my arm.” Cody tapped his upper left arm then lifted the short sleeve.

“You have a font in mind? Script? Serif?”

“Script.”

“Okay. What's the name?” He opened a package with a fresh needle inside.

“Jennifer. J-E-N-N-I-F-E-R.”

Mikey’s eyes widened. That was the same name as—whatever, not an uncommon name. He shook his head and the thought dissipated. “No problem. Lose the shirt.”

Cody pulled his shirt over his head, carefully folded the polo, and placed it across his lap. He arranged his left elbow on the armrest.

Mikey made up the transfer for the tattoo and placed it where his client indicated. He smoothed out the pre-drawn name over Cody's arm and lifted the paper. “Go check it out in the mirror. Let me know if you like the placement.”

Cody inspected his sinewy bicep. “Yep.”

The tattoo artist in Mikey thought it was a bad idea to ink names in your skin, particularly of women, but over the years he'd learned to keep his mouth shut. If some moron wanted the name of a girl permanently emblazoned on himself for the world to see, what did he care? Cody always paid in cash and tipped him well.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Grace

End-to-end papers covered the top of Grace’s desk inside her office. She puffed out a breath and sent a loose page off the edge and onto the floor. She tried to catch it mid-air and missed. This career of hers had little to offer in the realm of excitement—flying paper was it. She leaned back in her chair and imagined being on the back of Mikey's Harley. Her thighs tingled, remembering the feel of the engine rumbling beneath her. Okay, who was she kidding? That wasn't the only thing that made her thighs tingle. She put two fingers up to her mouth and ran them over her lips. The sensation wasn't anywhere near the reality of his kisses. She hiked up the hem of her skirt and teased her thigh with her fingertips. Her mind conjured up what he looked like naked based on the memory of his solid body pressed against hers, his thickly muscled arms wrapped around her waist. Slipping a finger beneath the crotch of her panties, she gasped. She brushed across the most sensitive part and moaned, imagining his mouth there.

Her cell jumped across the tax returns on her desk.

Grace tried ignoring the vibrating interruption, but glanced at the screen. Dad. Hastily, she pulled her hand out of her thong and flung her skirt back into place.

“Hello? Dad, is everything okay?”

Her father sighed. “Yes, honey, just checking in.”

“Oh. Usually you don't call till later and I was worried something happened.” She picked up a tax return but tossed it down when she remembered where her hand had been moments before. A frown formed on her face.

“Well, actually—”

“W-what? What is it?”

“Relax…I want you to be extra careful for now. Lock your car door as soon as you get in. Your apartment door.”

“I always do. What's this about?”

“You know, police business and all. Can't discuss specifics.” And he didn’t with Grace, for which she was glad.

“What is it anyway?”

“There have been a couple of murders, possibly the same perp did both.” Harry breathed deeply, then Grace heard him to take a sip of coffee. Her father drank java juice like he used to guzzle alcohol—daily and sometimes two-fisted.

“I know. I watch the news.” Grace tapped her fingers on her desk.

“The other reason I called was because your mother's birthday is coming up. How do you want to celebrate it this year? I was thinking—”

“Dad, I think I'm going to sit this year out. I don't think it's a good—”

“I didn't hear that, did I, Gracie? Your mother should be remembered. She loved her birthday.”

Grace was always amused by how her father spoke about her mother; the emotion filled words contradicted his gravelly voice.

Grace groaned. “I know, but I don't think she would want us—you to live like she's still here. It's been ten years, Dad. Eleven.”

“It's what we do every year.”

“Yeah, and at Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Flag Day.” Grace looked up in annoyance.

“What am I supposed to tell Mrs. McGregor? She always joins us. She looks forward to your mother's birthday.”

Grace laughed humorlessly. “Why don't the two of you go to dinner or something?”

“It won't be the same without you.”

“I'm sure Natalie won't mind.”

Her father couldn't see the real reason his neighbor came over all the time, and it wasn't to talk about her late mother. Mrs. McGregor hadn't been a Mrs. in years. Her husband had left her right about the time Grace’s mother passed away.

“I think you're wrong about that.”

“Dad, do you hear yourself? She's over all time. Coming around for how long now? Never remarried. She’s attractive, don't you think?”

Harry chuckled. “I don't think…” The denial lost its power and he went quiet. He swallowed another sip of coffee.

Grace stared at the wall in front of her. She really didn't want to celebrate this year. She hated the sad look her father always had on his face. After leaving, she always pictured him sitting on the edge of his bed, the same way she'd found him crying the morning of the funeral.

“If you really want me to be there, I will. But this has to be the last time. Promise me.”

His voice brightened, “Okay. Last time. I promise.”

Grace paced around her office after the emotionally exhausting phone call. She ignored the pile of papers. The mound sat there like a prognostication. Her life would forever be boring. Stagnant. She’d had a glimpse of a new beginning on the back of that motorcycle. After her date with Mikey she'd had second thoughts about moving forward with the man. Sure, he was big-hearted, fun, and a bit wild, but also had a ten-year-old son. A contradiction to his job as a tattoo artist. Grace never considered herself parent material and kids didn't seem to like her. However, Mikey was everything she wasn't, which wasn't a bad thing. She reached for the phone.

While the phone rang in her ear, the contents of her stomach swirled. She could hear her father words inside her brain, ‘You should never call a man, let them call you. If they're interested, they'll call’.

“Hello?” Mikey answered.

“Hi, this is Grace. Do you remember me?”

He chuckled in a quick burst. “We only went out two nights ago. I remember you well.”

“Okay. Well, I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend?”

“Um, I have my son this weekend, but I'm free tonight. I was about to order some pizza. Why don't you come over…watch a movie…or something?”

“I can probably do that.” She already knew his address because she'd insisted on him giving her the information before she’d agreed to their first date. A cop’s daughter was well-trained.

“Cool. Come over whenever, I'll be here.”

“’Kay. Bye.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mikey

Mikey surveyed his house for signs he might be a slob. Finding none, he wandered into his bedroom to shower and change. He had plans to show Grace some of his tattoo collection so he put on a muscle shirt. Fortunately, he could to pull off the look. When he wasn't working or spending time with his son or Brad, he hit the gym.

The doorbell rang right as he sat on the couch and he jumped up to get it. When he opened the door, Grace stood with her back to him. “Hey darlin’,” he said.

She spun around. “Hi.” Her hand came up in a wave.

When she neared him, he leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her lips. He'd meant the kiss to be a quick greeting but it turned into a promise of more later. Or maybe more right now. He pulled her against him and with their mouths still fused, walked them back into the house. Blindly, he felt the air for the door. Once he found the panel, it took a couple tries before he got it shut all the way. He turned the lock and returned his full attention to her.

Grace broke the contact first. “Sorry,” she said.

He furrowed his brow. “For what? That was a hell of a greeting. Besides, I kissed you.”

“Oh yeah. I guess you did. I must’ve been thinking about it.” She brought a hand up to her mouth and ran her fingers over her lips, her face red.

Mikey took her hand and led her into the living room. “Have a seat. I'm going to try to be a good host. Can I get you something to drink before I order some pizza?”

She followed him into the kitchen. “What do you have?”

After he opened the fridge, he remembered he hadn't gone to the grocery store yet. “Shit.”

She peered over his shoulder and snort-giggled. “It’s empty.”

“The pizza place can bring us something cold to drink.”

“That or water’s fine.”

God, she was so cool. He was glad he’d met her.

After the food was ordered they settled on the couch. “What kind of movies do you like?” he asked, directing the remote at the TV.

“I should probably tell you romantic comedies, although I prefer action comedy. But I don’t care. It’s up to you.”

“Hmm, all right. How does Bruce Willis sound to you?”

“Perfect. He’s the king.”

Mikey grinned. “I knew I liked you.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Harry

BEEP! BEEEEEP!

“Yeah, I'm going.” Harry planted his hands on his steering wheel. The light had turned green while he'd been thinking about the two unsolved murders in South Webby. He moved his foot to the gas pedal and sped through the intersection. The town wasn't all that large, but big enough. Locating one person who you didn't have any idea what they looked like or where they lived or even a first name, was nearly impossible.

He wrestled with his evaluation of Mikey Hardin. There were indicators of his guilt, though nothing definitively pointed to him as a viable suspect. Harry had done some digging into his past. There were extensive family court records regarding custody changes and motions, won and lost on both sides, but mostly involved their lawyers trying to keep them out of court rooms. Nothing he'd read indicated Hardin was doing anything illegal or even slightly deviant anymore. He was a regular volunteer at the Botanical Garden Park every year to help with the spring clean-up.

Harry wound through his subdivision, two lefts and then a right onto his street. When he pulled into his driveway, the only part of the trek he remembered was the stoplight he'd been honked at. The rest was a blur of automatic turns and stops.

Coming home was something he had to do, not something he loved to do. Before his wife had passed away, he'd always wanted to come home. Annie had greeted him with a smile every day, even if hers hadn’t been so great. They had a house rule never to bring work home with them. You left it on the front porch if you had to, but never was it allowed in the sanctuary of their home.

After he parked his car in the garage, he went inside. “Hi, Honey, I'm home,” he said as he passed by the family pictures which covered the wall of the hallway leading to the kitchen. Hung in the middle was a photograph of the two of them Gracie had made them take a year before her mother died. He imagined Annie standing in the lee of the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist. She'd never worn one, but he enjoyed the idea of it. A good cook, she was not. He hadn't married her for her cooking.

Harry turned his head to the right at a noise. He reached under his jacket, unsnapping the holster. The living room was dark. A lamp came on. He squinted at the bright light with his Glock drawn. The bark of a familiar laugh shot through the room.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me.” Harry said, putting his gun away.

“I know, wasn't it funny?” Cedric laughed.

“Hilarious. You wouldn’t be laughing if I had put a bullet in your chest. What are you doing lurking in my living room? In the dark, I might add.”

“When I heard you pull in I cut the lights. Thought it'd be funny to spook ya.”

“Doesn't explain why you're in my house.” Harry sat on the floral sofa across from his friend.

“You called me, remember? You didn't say why in your message but I figured it was about those murders.” Cedric was sitting on the matching pattern chair fiddling with his cane, grinding the end into the carpet. The chronic habit required him to replace the rubber on the bottom often. Harry eyed him and he stopped.

Harry hated to admit it, but he was having trouble with the recent killings because the evidence didn't make a lot of sense. Mikey Hardin’s alibi had checked out for the second murder. As far as the first murder, there was no physical evidence linking him to it, only a call from his ex-wife pointing her finger. After checking and finding court records of a nasty divorce, he was back at square one. Then there was Mikey's reaction to the crime scene photos. Harry shook his head.

“Why are you shaking your head?” Cedric asked.

“The evidence doesn't make sense. There were tips regarding the suspect, but one was from his ex-wife and, well…I think the second one was too.”

Cedric leaned his head back. “Second one?”

“Yeah. I dunno. The guy is a good guy as far as I can tell. His reaction to the photos and his alibi were solid. At least on the second.”

“And the first?”

“He was at work. By himself. Stayed late to work on some designs. Tattoo artist.”

“Ah.”

“Hey, you want some coffee?” Harry asked, motioning toward the kitchen.

Cedric stabbed his cane into the floor and rose to his feet. “After you.”

Harry prepared the coffeemaker, his forehead creased too deeply for brewing coffee. With one brow raised, Cedric watched him from his chair at the table. They'd known each other for about thirty years, ever since Harry had been a rookie cop. The circumstances surrounding their eventual friendship always weighed on Harry's mind. As a new police officer, his testimony had helped put Cedric in prison, falsely accused and tried without the use of DNA testing. Admittedly, Cedric was not a stellar citizen, but a murdering rapist he wasn’t.

“What the hell you concentrating so hard on?”

“What?”

“Yeah, what?” Cedric's voice was low and deep. “And don't bullshit me. I’ve known you too long for that.”

Harry sighed as he poured a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter. “I know him.”

The handle of Cedric’s cane slipped off the edge of the table. He leaned over and picked it up with a groan. “Know who?”

“The suspect. Who else? What the hell have we been talking about?”

“We was talking? I just asked what you was thinking about.”

Harry stared at his coffee. “This case. I don't like it, Ced.”

“How you know this suspect of yours?” Cedric looked up at Harry.

“AA.”

“As in A-A?”

“You know of another AA I don't know about? Yeah, fucking AA.”

“Damn, man. I know those twelve steps work for some folks but I could never get past all the Jesus and God stuff.”

“He only comes every once in a while, and not for over a year. He’s shared some. Hey, listen it's anonymous, all right? So don't—”

“Who would I tell? But isn't that a conflict of interest?”

Harry shrugged. “Probably. But I still have a job to do and it doesn't matter whether I know him or not. We're not friends.”

“But you're not sure if knowing him has messed with you.”

Harry didn't respond, merely looked out the window above the sink into the dark night and took a swig of coffee.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Grace

“I'm stuffed,” Mikey said, rubbing his stomach. Grace craned her neck over the top of the table with her mouth hanging open, curious about what was underneath his shirt. They both sat back in their chairs at his kitchen table. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“Uh huh. Full,” Grace said, looking at the clock on the microwave.

Noticing this, Mikey asked, “Do you have to go or…?”

“No. I was just wondering what time it was.”

He stared at her mouth, the line of her neck, her breasts.

“So, you promised to show me some of your tattoos. I see the ones on your arms.” Grace looked up through her lashes.

“I wore this shirt for the occasion,” he chuckled. “This one here is a bird. Raven, actually.”

She admired the work for a few minutes, turning his arm back and forth. The black ink tattoo depicted a solid raven with its wings, made up of smaller birds, stretched out behind it. “It’s beautiful. Tell me about some of the others.”

He showed her the skin art on his other arm. A black and gray owl nestled between branches with red flowers curled around his whole bicep up to his shoulder and down to the elbow.

“I'm surprised you don't have more on your arms, or…what do they call it when the entire arm is covered?”

“A sleeve. I don't like those. I do a lot of them but I’d rather not cover my forearms. I believe you can have too much.”

“Hmm, I see a pattern here.”

“Birds represent freedom to me. Individuality, in a way. I don't like to be caged in or labeled. I'm just me. I can only be who I am.” He stood up. “Do you wanna see what’s on my back?” Without waiting for her response he shucked his shirt. He turned around and dropped to his knees beside her so she could get a better look.

Grace gasped. “That’s breathtaking.” The first thing Grace noticed was the all the colors; different shades of red, yellow, orange, lilac and pale teal. Then she recognized the image, a phoenix with detailed feathers and flowing, swirling tail plumes. She touched Mikey, and what she felt surprised her. His skin was smooth where she'd thought it might be raised because of the ink. She moved her palm over the expense of his back and he tensed. Her hand met his rib cage along his side. He arched his spine and she giggled. “Are you ticklish?”

“Yes, very.” He laughed when she lightly touched his side.

“Mmm. I'll have to remember that.”

He gasped. “Please don't. Oh my God…stop.” He jumped to his feet to escape the torture. “Come on. Let’s watch another movie.”

“Do we have to? I was having so much fun,” she mock-whined, but trailed him back to the living room couch, where they sat down.

“You know, there are other ways to have fun that don't include teasing me.” A smile rose and lit up eyes.

Grace licked her lips. “Is that what I was doing? Teasing you?”

“Yep. That’s what I would call it.” His lids dropped to half-mast.

Grace appreciated the respect he showed her by not making the first move. He was letting her control the pace. But God, she wanted him to kiss her again.

“Can I interest you in another flick or do you need to get going?” he asked.

“Why? Are you kicking me out or do you really want to watch another movie?” She smiled.

“Ah no, and no.”

A soft giggle pushed past her lips and she grabbed his side, causing him to grunt. She wouldn't let go and continued to squeeze him. Mikey threw his head back and howled with laughter. “Not fair.”

He caught hold of her wrists and held them over her head. Their eyes met. Heat rolled off their bodies. Breaths caught in their throats. She pressed her lips to his. They were soft like velvet but firm as he kissed her back. When she licked at the crease of his mouth, he opened for her, taking her tongue inside as he pushed his into her. He followed her while she eased back onto the cushion.

They maneuvered their tangle of legs until he was lying between hers. He released her mouth to take a breath. It was then she noticed he still had her hands pinned above her head and what do you know? She liked this. Mikey released her hands but she kept them right where they were.

She arched into him as he ground himself against her core, the hard length of him pressing through his jeans. Reaching between them, he adjusted himself. Grace giggled against his mouth when he groaned from his own touch.

“Sorry, I was uncomfortable.”

“Poor guy,” she said breathlessly. “I know what you mean. My jeans are…sticking…uh…can you…uh…help me?”

Snaking his hand between them again, he unfastened the button of her pants and pulled down the zipper. She reached down and shimmied them out from under her bottom. He helped her get them the rest of the way off. After tossing them aside, he leaned down and pushed the hem of her shirt up past her navel. Along the top of her lacy thong and the hollow between her hips, he kissed her. His hot breath skated over her skin. Grace moaned and drove her hands into his thick hair.

Crawling up her body, Mikey ran a hand over her breasts, giving each side equal attention. She closed her eyes and soaked up the attention. Over the bra and cotton t-shirt wasn’t enough. Needing closer contact, she stripped off her shirt. He was adept at unhooking her bra at the front clasp. Slowly he slid the cups to the sides to reveal her full breasts. He suckled each one, circling his tongue around the tight little buds. She moaned when she angled her hips up and down.

Grace gasped when the tips of his fingers ran under the top of her panties. “Can I take these off?” he breathed into her neck.

“Please.”

He kissed his way down to her flat stomach and planted a raspberry next to her belly button. She quivered with laughter; he yanked off her thong.

“Oh God.” Her sudden and complete nakedness spurred her arousal on more. Once again she put her hands over her head and spread her legs.

Mikey’s pupils flared. “Grace,” he said hoarsely, “you're beautiful.”

She smiled with heavy lids. “Thank you. So are you. But you have too many clothes on.” She sat up and went for the fly of his jeans. He cupped her cheek with one hand, running a thumb over her bottom lip. The pants easily slipped down his hips. The tip of him peeked out of the waistband of his purple boxer briefs. There was so much to see.

“Holy crap.”

“You want that?” he asked with a lopsided smile.

“Oh God, yes.”

His cock jerked with a surge of blood. He stood to rid himself of the rest of his clothing. He struggled with his socks and shoes.

“You need help?”

Mikey let out a short bursting laugh. “Nope…I can handle it…I think…yeah…got it.”

When he didn't come back to her and wandered down the hallway, she called after him, “Where are you going?”

“Getting a rubber.”

“Great idea. Sorry, I should've thought about that.” She burst out laughing.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Grace

Mikey had come back into the living room already wearing a condom. But not any condom; a hot pink one. Grace threw her hands up to her mouth when he strutted into the room, his hands on his hips like a comic strip superhero.

“Ta da!”

“You're insane. Get over here.”

She lay back on the sofa and sighed softly. However, instead of lying on top of her, he gently guided her legs over so her feet touched the floor. He sat down next to her and patted his upper thighs. It took her a moment to understand; he wanted her to straddle his hips. She was a quick learner and got into position. He held himself more upright so she could ease down onto his erection. Sucking in a breath, his eyes closed.

She moved her hips until they were both panting. Mikey helped her by wrapping his hands around her bottom cheeks and supporting her gyrating hips. She threw her head back and cried out. “Mikey! Oh God! Mikey!”

Her inner walls milked him over and over as she came. He shifted her off to the side, making sure the condom stayed on him while he pulled out. Surprise washed over her face, she didn't think he’d finished.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you.” He led her over to the end of the overstuffed couch and asked her to bend over the puffy armrest.

He nudged her legs further apart with a knee, angled his hips, and thrust deeply, past her pink folds. Grace grabbed hold of the seat cushions while he pounded her from behind. He fondled the tight beads of her breasts. Her breath sawed in and out of her. Her heart banged behind her sternum, beating so rapidly she was afraid it would thump right out of her chest.

He ran his wide palms over and around her hips to the front, finding her sweet spot. His nimble fingers massaged the bundle of nerves.

“Oh God!” she screamed and prayed ecstasy didn’t kill her. Although, what a way to go. Death by orgasm. She nearly passed out as another slammed through her body.

Mikey gasped faster and faster. His hot hands retreated and strong fingers dug into her hips. She didn’t care.

***

Mikey

“Oh, God!” he shouted. His gasps came short and quick. A steamroller of an orgasm almost leveled him. His weakened lower limbs were no help as he was racked from the inside out. Grace stuck with him as the waves rolled through his body. They stayed joined while he loomed over her with his arms supporting his weight. He panted, every third breath getting caught in the back of his throat.

Grace rested her forehead on the cushion, a smile plastered on her face. “Where’s my phone?”

“What? Why?”

“Because that was like the best sex. Ever. I need to call the paper. Everyone needs to know about this.”

Mikey tilted his head back and laughed. “Are you pimping me out?”

“Oh God no. I want you all to myself.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Mikey

With his jaw clenched, Mikey walked up the steps of Cynthia’s house. He wasn't in the mood to see her. Thankfully, Brayden opened the door with a backpack slung over his shoulders.

“Ready?” he asked his son.

“Yeah, let's go,” Brayden said and padded down the porch steps.

“Wait, aren't you going to say bye to your mother?”

Cynthia had appeared at the doorway when he turned back around. She slammed the door shut, cutting off any thoughts of him speaking to her. Good. He didn't have anything to say anyway. Mikey left the porch to find Brayden already buckled into the front seat of his car. The backpack sat on the floorboards at his feet.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Mikey asked after he started the engine.

“Can we just go?” Brayden sat with his arms crossed and his head hung forward.

“You wanna to tell me what’s going on?”

“Uh uh,” Brayden shook his head. “Let's go, Dad.”

Mikey knew his son was shutting him out. He sighed, put the car into gear and started driving. “I was thinking about going to the zoo today.”

“Really? I love the zoo!”

“I know, kid. I'm glad this meets with your approval.”

During the ride, they chatted about what exhibits they didn't want to miss. Brayden seemed to forget about his mad rush out of his mother’s house. Mikey did not. At the zoo, he tried to put his concerns out of his mind. Whatever was bugging his son could wait. And he should probably discuss any issues with Cynthia rather than their child.

They walked along the route that took them past the animal enclosures. In the amphibian house, Brayden decided to have a competition. At each of the glass fronted cages of the different frogs, lizards and snakes, he kept score for each animal one of them spotted first. They weren't always easy to find. Mikey chuckled each time Brayden scored himself a point.

“I see him, Dad. He’s right there, at the top of the branch,” he said and pointed at the chameleon habitat.

“Oh yeah. There he is.” Mikey pulled at the center of his white Hanes and let it snap back into place a couple of times. “It’s hot in here,” he said, hoping that would encourage Brayden to move along more quickly. Beads of perspiration rolled down Mikey’s temples.

His son looked up at him. “Yeah, I'm dying too.”

Leaving the humid building, Brayden spotted the aardvarks across the path and grabbed his dad's hand. Three of the species of animal played follow the leader in an oval pattern around and around.

“I wanna be an anteater,” Brayden said, putting his fists up to his nose creating a long snout.

“Yeah, okay, but you’d have to eat ants the rest of your life.”

“How do you know ants aren't good? If I were an anteater, ants would taste fine to me.”

Mikey laughed. “Well, I can't argue with that.” The logical mind of his son always made him smile.

After the penguin house and a visit to the gift shop, they were both ready to leave.

“Where are we going now?” Brayden asked once they were in the car.

“I figured you might be hungry. Cocoa?” Mikey asked.

Brayden grinned. “Can I get dessert?”

“Yep.”

Mikey and his son took a seat at the bar tended by Brad's wife, Andrea. Her face brightened when she looked up and saw them sitting at the corner of the counter. Brayden waved at her and she came over.

Her short brown hair was highlighted with blonde. The pixie cut was new since the last time his son had seen her. Brayden gaped at her. “What did you do to your hair?”

“Bray,” Mikey warned. “Sorry, Andrea. That wasn't a very nice thing to say,” he said, looking at his son.

Andrea put a hand up and shook her head. “It’s okay. I don't like it either. I let the stylist talk me into it.”

Mikey eyed the new do. “I like it. Looks good on you. Not many women can pull off short hair, but you can.”

She chortled. “Thanks for trying, but you're such a liar, Hardin.” She looked at Brayden and mouthed liar. He grinned back.

“I wasn't lying.”

“Uh hmm. What can I get you two devastatingly handsome gentlemen?”

“Crab cakes,” the gentlemen said at the same time.

Andrea giggled. “He’s your son all right.” She walked away to punch in their order at the touch screen point-of-sale computer.

“Is everything all right at home with your mother?” Mikey asked casually. “You usually don't run out of the house like that.” He wasn't sure if that were always true. When he'd picked up his car last week, he'd run out to greet him like the house was full of monsters.

“Yeah.” Brayden shrugged.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Brayden studied the top of the bar.

“You know you can tell me anything. I won't be mad.”

“I know.”

Andrea returned and set two glasses of ice water in front of them. “Just the way you like. Mostly ice.”

“Thank you,” Mikey winked hoping she would understand they were having a private discussion. “Bray, you'd tell me if something were wrong, right?”

His kid slumped on the stool. “Yeah.” He sat mutely for a moment, then said, “It’s just that you and Mom—I don't want you to fight. I love Mom and you did too. Once.”

“I did, you're right. I know you won't understand this, but that was a long time ago for me.”

“I wish you wouldn't fight so much. I don't like it because I love you both the same. It makes me feel bad. Makes my stomach hurt.” Brayden put a hand over his belly and pitched his head forward with his tongue out and made gagging noises.

“All right, enough. I get it. Thanks for telling me.”

Andrea served two plates of crab cakes. Brayden easily turned his focus onto the task of devouring food.

“Dad, your phone made a noise.”

Mikey picked up his phone from the top of the bar. He had no idea how Brayden could've heard the message alert with all the noise of the restaurant.

Cynthia.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

What the hell did she want? The screen only showed part of the message. He swiped a finger across the glass, typed in his password, and went straight to his texts.

The message read:

Going back to 1 wknd/month per agreement.

Mikey: What?

Cynthia: Our agreement says u get 1 wknd/month.

Mikey: What agreement?

Cynthia: Written agreement.

Mikey: Why?

Cynthia: Since ur arrest, I've decided it's in our son's best interest to limit his time w/ u.

Mikey: Did you ask him how he feels?

Cynthia: I'm his mother

Mikey: I'm his father

Cynthia: Sure about that?

Mikey glanced at his son, who looked exactly like him. He swore under his breath. Brayden was his, he had no doubt. What a psychotic bitch. He face-palmed then rubbed his forehead.

“What's wrong?” Brayden asked. His face crinkled up, like he had a terrible taste in his mouth.

“Nothing.”

“That was Mom,” Brayden announced, wiping his hand on his pants.

“Yep. Use your napkin.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How'd you know it was your mother?”

Brayden shrugged then took another bite of crab cake.

“She says we can only see each other once a month now. But listen, I don't want—”

“Dad, don't fight. I hate it when you fight.” He put his fork down.

“We're not fighting, but I don't want to wait a month to see you again.”

“It'll be all right. I'll be okay.”

Yeah right.

So much for finishing his dinner. Mikey wanted to throw up for real.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Grace

Grace’s father pointed out the front windshield of her car. “Eyes on the road, honey.”

“Oh my God, how old am I? I know how to drive.”

She worked her jaw, her father’s passenger-seat driving only adding to her irritation. Harry had shamed her, not only into celebrating her deceased mother’s birthday again, but now they were on their way to pick up the damn cake.

“Dad?” Grace had meant to ask him to promise her again that this would be the last time they marked this day, but lost the energy.

“Did you have a question? Because it sounded like you had a question.”

“No. Never mind.” Grace glanced over at her father. He contorted and twisted his body at the flow of traffic as if he were bracing for impact, his feet pushing imaginary pedals into the floor. Rolling her eyes, she continued gripping the wheel with one hand on the bottom to annoy him. “Please stop doing that.”

“What?” he asked, pressing his foot down on his invisible brake. The light up ahead turned red.

“That.” Grace gestured in the direction of his feet. “My foot is on the brake. You’re making me crazy. Gawd. This is the absolute last time I’m driving with you anywhere. And this is the last time I’m celebrating Mom’s birthday with you. I’m so sick of this.” The words flew out of her mouth. She couldn’t even stop them. Pacifying him all these years not only kept him in the past, but her too. She was done.

“I’m sorry.”

A car horn drowned him out. The beep wasn’t for her but the noise got her eyes back on the road. A bright red sports car whipped in between her and the car ahead of them. Grace laid on the horn while she slammed on her brakes, the vibration and grinding sound of the anti-locks kicked in. Harry’s coffee went flying.

“Aw, dammit!” Harry brushed at his pants.

“Oh, what are you so upset about? Your bad habit is going to stain the carpet,” she breathed.

“No it’s not…it’s black.” He set his Styrofoam cup into the center console holder.

“It’s going to stink up my Lincoln.”

“It’s not going to…well, maybe.”

“Dad,” she groaned.

“It’s not my fault. You should pay attention.”

“I was. I can’t help it if someone pulls out in front of me. Don’t you have some napkins or something to mop this up with?”

Her father reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad. Using the sole of his loafer he pressed the napkins into the carpet and soaked up the spill the best he could. However, what they needed was a wet vac.

Grace turned into the strip mall parking lot where the bakery was located. When her dad started to get out of the car, she stopped him, consumed with guilt. “I’ll get the cake, Dad.”

Harry looked at her like he was about to protest, but kept his mouth shut and closed his door.

After paying for the cake, she placed it on the floor of the back seat. The buttercream frosting aroma filled the car. It smelled delicious. The confection was the only thing she enjoyed about this day. Her mouth watered as she started the engine.

Silence hung like smog in the car. Grace knew her father would eventually choke on the silence between them. She was right. He ran a finger along the inside of his collar and buzzed the window down even though the A/C blasted cold air.

One. Two. Three…

“So, are you getting out much?”

I knew it.

“Getting out?”

“Yeah, you know? Dating anyone?”

Grace grinned. “Really? Do you really want to hear about my sex lif—?”

“Grace.” Harry grimaced and sliced a hand through the space between them. “Ehhh.”

She stifled a giggle.

“I don’t want to know about that. I’m only curious how you spend your time away from work. That’s all.”

“Hmmm…well, since you brought it up, actually, I have met someone. He seems pretty cool and kind of the opposite of me. Which isn’t bad. I like it, I guess.”

Her father exhaled loudly. “He isn’t a weirdo is he?”

“What? What do ya mean, weirdo?”

“I mean is he normal?”

“Harry, I told you he’s not. I mean, he is normal.” She sighed. “He’s free-spirited.”

“Okay fine. I’ll trust your judgment, and don’t call me Harry.”

Grace thought the investigation was over. She relaxed into her seat for a few minutes. When they turned into her father's subdivision he spoke again.

“Did you run a background check on—?”

“Dad.”

“What?”

“You know what. This subject is closed. Discussion over.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mikey

With her arms folded across her chest, Cynthia stood in the frame of her front door. Brayden leaped from the car as soon as Mikey could put his Escape into park.

“Wait! You forgot your…”

Bag.

Mikey needed to speak with Cynthia anyway. He glanced at the time on his phone. Collecting his son's belongings from the back seat, he started for her porch. Brayden slipped inside. The door swung shut as he hit the steps.

“Cynthia!” he shouted louder than necessary and winced. The neighbor across the street was a busybody. His ex-wife yanked the door open and came outside.

“What?!” she said, narrowing her stare on him with her hands on her hips.

“What’s with the bullshit you texted me Friday night?”

“You’ve been arrested as a murder suspect,” she spat. “What did you expect me to do? I have a responsibility to protect my son.”

Mikey snorted in disbelief. He glared at her. “I didn't do anything and you know it.”

“Really? And how would I know that?” Cynthia looked over his shoulder. Mikey wanted to follow her line of vision, however, he knew she was peeking at her overly curious neighbor.

“Are you serious? Have I ever done anything to you that would make you think I was capable of those things?”

“No, but people can change,” she whispered so the neighbor couldn't hear.

“That's a load of shit!” He stepped closer to her. God, this woman… the exhale he forced out of his mouth made the wisps of hair around her face fly. He couldn't see Brayden, although Mikey knew he was lingering behind the door.

Cynthia sneered. “I'm within my rights, you know. The order states you get one weekend a month of my choosing. And I'm not discussing this any furth—”

“What about Brayden's rights? Did you ever think of that? How does he feel about only seeing his father once a month?”

“I don't have to. I decide what's best. Not him and certainly not you.” She poked him in the chest after each point.

Mikey willed himself not to hit her, even though he never had. He glanced down at his clenched fists and took a couple of steps backward. “Cynthia…”

She refocused her attention on his hands for a moment. Then her eyes landed across the street again. This time he threw a glance over his shoulder. “Why do you keep looking over there, huh?”

“I'm not looking anywhere.” She dropped her eyes to the cement.

“Then why is ‘nosy’ out on her porch?”

“I don't know, why don't you ask her?” She edged closer to him.

Mikey stared down at her. He hated her being so close to him; he wanted to shove her back but kept his hands at his sides.

“You don't like the order the way it is, get a lawyer. And here's a tip; call a family law attorney, not your criminal one!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Somebody ought to punch you in the nose! I don't have an attorney, you crazy-ass—God—you make me so—God!”

“Well, you’re going to need one, probably two!”

“What? You—”

Two cop cars sped up the street with sirens blaring.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mikey

Mikey threw his hands up in the air. Awesome. This wasn’t how he pictured the conversation with his ex-wife ending. Of course, why should he be surprised? This was their normal and it sucked. Mainly for Brayden.

Cynthia snuck back inside the house and closed the door. He stood on the porch with his hands at his sides. Two police cruisers pulled up, one to the curb behind his car and the other in the driveway. Should he assume the position now or wait for them to tell him? He rubbed his forehead.

Two of the four officers approached him, each with one hand on their gun.

Mikey started the conversation off. “Evening, Officers.”

“Whatcha doing here?” the cop on the right, ‘E. Roberts’ according to his badge, asked.

He jerked his head toward the house. “I was dropping off my son at his mother’s.”

“Turn around and place your hands behind your head.”

“What for?”

“For your safety.”

Mikey turned around slowly, praying Brayden wasn’t looking out. Naturally, he was and gaped at him. Mikey squeezed his eyes shut for a second. After the other cop cuffed and patted him down, Roberts knocked on the front door.

“Mom?” Brayden called, his voice sounding muffled.

The other cop ushered Mikey off the porch and over to the patrol car parked in the driveway. He craned his head over his shoulder and smiled crookedly at Brayden on the way. His son disappeared from the window and the curtain fell back into place.

Instead of putting him into the car, he was told to plant his ass on the grass, which proved difficult with his hands hooked behind his back. Cynthia answered the door like she was surprised. Roberts nodded at whatever she told him. Mikey couldn’t hear their conversation. Right before she shut the door, Brayden yelled, “Dad!” ripping a hole in his chest.

Roberts strode over with a tight-lipped expression, his brows kitted together. “Want to tell me what happened here?”

“I came to drop off Brayden.”

“That’s not what your wife alleges happened.”

Mikey shrugged. “We had a discussion about visitation.”

“She says you threatened to beat her up.”

Mikey recoiled. “What? No. No, I didn’t. What I said was that someone should punch her in the nose. But I didn’t mean me. I didn’t touch her, man.”

“She also said you were arrested recently.”

“Not for threatening her. For murder.” Yeah, that was stupid. “I didn’t do it, though.” He smiled because there was no way he could erase what he’d admitted.

“Get up.” Roberts motioned with his hand, indicating Mikey stand up.

“You know, there are actual criminals out there. I didn’t do anything other than yell at her. Is that a crime?”

“Check your attitude. You’re taking a ride with us.”

“Are you arresting me? For what?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Harry

Someone peered through the sidelight of Harry's front door. A stab of fear panged his heart. When the woman turned around and smiled, he cursed mildly under his breath. He hadn't recognized Natalie McGregor from behind.

Did she change her hair?

She waved at him and Grace.

Harry motioned her over to join them in using the garage entrance. Natalie's hair was definitely different.

“Changed your hair,” he grumbled.

“Oh, yes,” she said while fondling her hair. “Do you like it?”

“Eh.” Grace kicked the side of his foot. “Oh. Sorry. It looks fine.” The right words didn't roll off his tongue, it felt like he was being unfaithful to Annie. If she was any other woman he wouldn't care and didn’t, but she had been his wife's best friend. Natalie broke the eye contact and looked around.

“I think it looks great. Really freshens up your look. Where did you get it done?” Grace gushed.

Natalie shook off the wooden compliment from Harry and responded to Grace's question. She avoided looking in his direction when they entered the house.

He took the cake from his daughter and set it on the kitchen counter. When he lifted the box lid, vanilla and chocolate aromas wafted up to his nose. The bakery kept his standing order every year. He didn't even need to call in. They just knew and called him when it was ready for pick-up. He read the inscription, Happy 54th Birthday, Annie. The lid floated down.

“Dad? Are you all right?” Grace asked from over his right shoulder. A crooked smile plastered on his face as he pivoted.

“Let's order a pizza. We can cut the cake later, if you still want,” he said.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

Harry waved off his daughter's concern.

Natalie sat mutely at the kitchen table. Harry looked over at her and she didn't meet his gaze. He shrugged and grabbed the pizza coupons out of a drawer. “Deep dish. Pepperoni. Mushroom,” he said to no one in particular.

“Fine,” Grace sighed. She and Harry both glanced in Natalie's direction.

“Oh, I already ate. Nothing for me.”

***

After dinner, Harry leaned back in his chair and tossed his napkin onto his empty plate. He'd not spoken since he ordered the Chicago-style. He couldn't trust himself not to say something stupid or insulting toward Natalie. He did like her new hairstyle; she looked pretty. Harry had trouble thinking of her as a woman, a potential partner. Natalie had been Annie’s best friend. What would his late wife think if he asked her out? Slap him, she would. Wouldn't she?

“Cake,” he muttered. Wasn't he a joy to be around right now?

Yay, me.

Grace wandered over to the counter and brought the cake back to the table. “Is there any ice cream?”

Harry stared at a fake knot in the faux wood table top.

“Dad?” When he didn’t answer; Grace cleared her throat.

“Hmm? W-What?”

“I asked if you had any ice cream.”

He went to the freezer, looked inside, shut the door, and sat back down without speaking. The women gaped at him. “What?”

Grace and Natalie looked from him to each other.

“Oh. There's no ice cream.”

“I'm sure we both figured that out,” Natalie said. Their eyes met. She searched his face. He suspected she wouldn't find much life there. Grace plopped a piece of the devil's food on a plate and handed it to him. The only reason he picked up a fork was Grace.

Natalie’s hands clapped together and startled him. “Gimme a big piece, Grace. I've been waiting all day for this.”

“Okay, here you go.” Grace handed the slice and a fork to her. Natalie dug in. Apart from the chewing, silence filled the room.

“The cake is wonderful,” Natalie commented.

“Uh hmmm, I love their cakes,” Grace agreed. “So, Dad? I won't be able to make the movie this weekend we talked about seeing.”

Harry looked at her in confusion. He didn't remember them making any plans. “Wha…”

Grace wide-eyed him so he closed his mouth. “Yeah, so I was thinking it might be a nice idea if the two of you went instead.”

“Grace, I don't think Mrs. McGregor wants to go out with me. She probably already has plans.”

“No I don't,” Natalie immediately said. “I would love to.”

Harry groaned internally. “I already have plans this weekend.”

“With who? Cedric? You can break them. I'm sure he won't mind.”

He picked at his cake. “It's not with him.”

“Who could you possibly have plans with other than him?” Grace asked.

Harry pushed himself up from the table. “I'm going to go lie down.”

Grace’s chair scraped over the tile. “Dad?”

He raised his hand to keep her from coming after him. “I'm fine. A little tired.” He walked away and was nearly out of the kitchen when Natalie spoke.

“Harry, there's something I've been waiting to say for a long time…” She paused and looked at Grace as if to apologize for what was coming next. Harry held his breath. “I've sat back for ten years and waited for you. Watched you parade a string of unworthy, bimbos through here.” Grace inhaled sharply; Natalie glanced at her. “I've never said anything, but I can no longer stand it.”

“Natalie, you don't know what you're talking about, my father has never brought any—”

“Oh please, your father is still attractive. He may not want me, but he certainly has had plenty of women over here.”

Grace’s face fell. All the color drained out. It was a look Harry could have done without.

“Dad? Tell me she's wrong. That you haven’t been having sex with other women, pretending to be heartbroken. Making me feel guilty.”

Harry threw his hands up. “Do you want me to lie?”

“You already have been lying to me. For years.” Grace wiped her face on her napkin and tossed it onto her plate.

“I have not, Gracie.”

“Don't Gracie me. You don't get to Gracie me. You certainly have never told me you go on dates. That's a lie by omission. You've had me believe you've been pining for Mom all these years.” She rose from the table.

“I have; don't you see?” Harry pleaded with his daughter.

“He has. And it's been the most pitiful thing to watch.” Natalie said evenly. When Harry eyes darted to Natalie’s face, her eyes were shiny. He knew her intention wasn’t to cause a rift between Grace and him. It was funny how now in this moment, he wanted to hold Natalie; brush her cheek with his fingertips.

Grace grabbed her purse off the counter and fled without another word. The front door slammed, rattling the house.

RING!

“Now what?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Mikey

This was becoming a real problem. This time when Mikey was shoved into an interrogation room, he asked to speak with Detective Hunter first thing. Cheap Suit burst into the room with a hard expression on his face.

Harry narrowed his eyes on Mikey. “You're making a real habit of this and it's starting to piss me off.”

Mikey splayed out wrist-cuffed hands on the table. “I didn't do anything.”

“Wife says—”

“Ex-wife.”

“Your wife says you threatened her life.”

Mikey glared at the detective. “Yeah, and what did Nosy-pants across the street say? She heard the whole damn thing.”

“Did you threaten her?”

“No. But I did tell her that someone should punch her in the nose.”

Harry laughed humorlessly. “You're something else.”

“That’s what I hear. Look, I didn't touch her and I wouldn't. She's limiting my time with my son. We have a shitty order that we haven't gone by in years.”

“Mmm hmm. So you thought it was a good idea to pick a fight with her?”

“Every conversation with her ends in a fight. She's nuts. You can't have a normal conversation with her.”

“Well, someone called it in.”

Mikey stared at him with wide eyes. “Wait, what time was that?”

“What difference does that make?”

“Nosy-pants was on her porch the whole time I was talking to Cynthia.”

Harry opened the folder with the report he'd laid on the table. “Four forty-three, log says.”

“Mmm,” Mikey grunted. “I checked the time right when I got to Cynthia's house. It was four-forty-one.”

“How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

“Have I lied to you yet?” The cuffs clanked on the metal table.

Harry let out a long sigh. A few moments of silence passed between them. “Do me a favor, Hardin, abide by the custody order in place and stay away from your ex unless you're picking up or dropping off your son.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Grace

Grace paced her living room floor. Mikey was supposed to have called her by five, after dropping off his son at his ex-wife’s house. It was past seven o’clock now. She’d sent a text to him at six but got no response and refrained from sending another message.

Her phone chirped at seven forty-six. The text from Mikey read:

Sorry got caught up. Meet at Hector’s in 15?

She typed:

Ok.

Grace waited in the same booth from the night they first met. A man sat himself down opposite her, two booths away. No one occupied the seats in between. He stared at her with an intense scrutiny that unnerved her. Five times, she read the paper placemat covered in advertisements, avoiding his eyes. Every time she breathed, he seemed to breathe in sync with her.

Oh my, God. What’s up with this guy?

Her body flushed with alarm. His face seemed familiar. Or maybe he simply looked like a stereotypical child molester. Where the heck was Mikey? The clock behind the cash register displayed 8:25.

The bells over the door jangled and Mikey walked in with damp hair. Grace relaxed and hoped he blocked the creepy stare-down guy’s face.

“Sorry I’m late,” Mikey said and sat down.

“I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.” Grace faked being upset; she was relieved he showed up even if it was late.

“I know.” He grabbed a menu from behind the condiments.

“Where were you? I thought you dropped Brayden off at quarter to five.”

“Dealing with my ex’s bullshit. I’m really sorry. If I could’ve called earlier I would’ve.”

“Oh. Like what kind of BS?” God, she was grateful she didn’t have kids with her ex-husband.

Mikey waved her off. “Nothing. You don’t wanna hear about it.”

“You can talk to me about it. I don’t mind.” Grace wished he would. He didn’t talk about his past much. He loved his son though, that she could tell. Which was one of his more endearing qualities. “I take it she gives you a pretty hard time?”

He sighed heavily and ran a palm over his square jawline. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“What kinds of things does she do?”

Mikey snorted. “I really don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

“Is it about Brayden?”

“No. Please, can you leave it alone? It’s my problem and I’ll deal with it.” He reached across the table and held her hands in his.

“I want to help.”

“I know, and thanks, but there isn’t anything you can do.” Mikey frowned and glanced around the restaurant.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think we need to find a new place. Remember that waitress from the first night we met, the one with the pink hair?”

“Jennifer? Oh yeah, you’re right. I forgot.” Grace recalled the news report and her father’s warning.

“May I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?” a waitress asked.

Grace hadn’t been aware the girl was standing there. She glanced and read the name tag. “Thanks. I don’t think we’re staying, Mary.”

“Okay.” Mary furrowed her brow.

Mikey spoke up. “It’s not you. We…”

“Oh, I know, you’re not the first to come and leave. You knew her, didn’t you?” Mary asked, putting her order pad into the pocket of her apron.

Mikey nodded and led Grace toward the exit. She could get used to Mikey's hand on her lower back. It comforted her and made her feel precious. Memories of her past relationships with less than chivalrous men gave her the willies. Mikey turned out to be the best risk she'd ever taken. Granted, she hadn't known him for long, but he was definitely worth investing more time with.

The man who was checking her out when she first got there glowered at her as they neared his booth. Well, it seemed that way. She fell in behind Mikey and nearly slammed into him when he stopped at the creep’s table.

“Hey, man. Didn't know you ate here,” Mikey said.

“I usually hang around here on Sunday nights too,” the guy answered. His eyes darted to Grace’s face and he nodded once. “Mondays too.”

Grace thought back to the Monday she met Mikey. Several people had come in the restaurant that night. Every time the door opened she had looked up because of the bells. She may have seen him that night although she couldn’t be certain.

“Yeah…uh…” Mikey seemed nonplussed for a moment. “Okay.”

Grace squeezed his forearm. He placed a hand on top of hers. She wanted to get away from this weirdo.

“Oh, Grace, this is Cody. He’s a client of mine. Cody, this is Grace Bell, my girlfriend.” Why did he tell him her last name?

“Nice to meet you,” she said without looking at him.

“Yes. Likewise,” Cody said flatly.

“Well listen, it was nice to see you, man,” Mikey said.

Grace shifted her weight on her feet. She couldn't wait to get outside and into Mikey's car.

After another round of short exchanges, they were outside. The summer air hit her face and she wavered on her feet for a moment, clinging to Mikey's side. Cody made her uneasy. Maybe it was the expression he'd had on his face when he said ‘likewise’ or that he looked like a serial rapist. Okay, she'd been watching reruns of Criminal Minds lately, but come on. The guy looked like he could be Jeffrey Dahmer’s doppelgänger.

“How do you know that guy?” Grace asked, standing with Mikey next to her car. She shivered.

“One of my regulars. I wouldn’t say I know him.” His lips brushed her forehead.

“Good. He gives me the creeps.”

Mikey chuckled. “You’re not the only one.”

CHAPTEr TWENTY-FIVE

Mikey

“Are you ever going to let me in?” Grace asked.

Mikey scratched his head. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that something is obviously bothering you. You’ve been quiet since we left the restaurant. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Mikey grumbled under his breath. “Like I told you before, it's nothing you need to worry about. It's my ex. She says I can only see my son once a month now.”

“Can she do that?”

“Yeah. The order we have in place says I only get him one weekend a month even though we haven't gone by that schedule in years.”

“Why all of a sudden?”

“Because she can. I don't know.”

Liar.

He knew why, but the reason was bullshit and he couldn't tell her about it. Their relationship was barely getting started. What was he supposed to say? Hey, by the way I'm uh, being looked at as a potential serial killer. Not going to happen. He would reflect on this moment later as the time he should've perhaps mentioned it. In passing.

Confusion washed over her face for a few moments, then she said, “Oh, I'm sorry. Is there anything you can do?”

Mikey didn’t answer. It wasn't worth trying to explain why he wasn't running out and hiring an attorney to fight his ex yet. “I don't want to think about it right now.” He ambled over to her. She was seated on her kitchen counter, and he settled in between her parted knees. A guttural groan escaped him. He slid her bohemian style skirt up her creamy thighs. “I'd rather think about these legs and…this.” He slipped his hand around to her core. Her cotton bikinis were drenched. He pushed her panties to the side and she opened further for him with a soft, whimpering moan. He pushed a finger inside her and found her G-spot. Mikey worked her as he kissed up the side of her neck, sucking and flicking his tongue over her skin. He nipped at her earlobe then started on the other side. When he pulled his hand away, she grabbed the hair on the back of his head.

“No,” she said breathlessly. “I need you in me.”

He smiled crookedly. “You have too many clothes on.” The boho skirt and her underwear where the first to go. Leaning her back, he helped get them out from underneath her and off. The soft fabric didn't make a sound when it dropped to the floor. He nudged the clothes aside with his foot. When he looked up again she was completely naked, having pulled off her tank top with a built-in bra.

Oh God.

Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her feverishly until they were not only panting, but gasping. She unzipped his fly. He needed to get his jeans and boxer briefs low enough to…

“Oh…yes…that's it,” he told her as she stroked him with her hand. “I want you now.” Mikey had never been so grateful for his height. He tugged her hips forward and whispered next to her ear. “Let me go get a condom.”

“That’s a good idea,” she breathed.

He returned with the whole box. She giggled and he silenced her with a kiss. “Just a sec.” Mikey rolled on the raincoat and entered her, easily gliding past her feminine folds. The friction. Oh, the warmth that surrounded his cock…oh God…

“Do me,” she whispered.

“Yes, ma'am.” His hands slipped around her bottom and as he yanked her forward more, pistoning into her. She cried out his name. Over and over he slammed into her. Their breath sawed in and out to the point of agony. But who needed to breathe anyway? Neither of them cared or wanted to stop.

“Mikey! Oh…G-god!” She pulsed all around his diamond hard shaft. Her body shuddered as she held onto his shoulders, fingers digging in.

“I'm going to come….oh fuck!” He held on tight, erupting inside her, alternating between seizing and going slack.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Grace

Technically tonight was Mikey and Grace’s third date, but could you really count having pizza and sex as a second date? Or maybe this was their fourth date since they’d shared a table for a meal the night they met. The comfort level she experienced with him made her feel they had known each other for a long time. They had spent hours talking on the phone in between dates.

Mikey looked even more gorgeous than before. She studied his profile while he drove. They were in his car on the way to see a movie.

The streetlights highlighted his face. She liked everything about this man, even his tattoos. They weren’t dumb pointless skeletons or daggers. What was another overdone tattoo? Koi? Oh, and Chinese characters. He had birds; she loved birds. Mikey valued freedom and individuality.

“Whatcha smiling about over there? And you’re staring at me. Am I really that interesting to look at?”

Her face flushed. “Uh huh.”

Mikey chuckled. “Okay.” He pulled into the theater parking lot. Grace wasn’t sure of the title of the movie. She didn’t care as long as he sat next to her and held her hand.

Walking into the cinema, women stared at Mikey. She figured the attention was due to his handsome features. His hair flopped over one of his eyes. Thinking about his square jaw with a five o’clock shadow made her wet.

She excused herself to use the restroom after he bought the tickets. She always had to go pee once she got to the movie theater. If she didn’t empty her bladder, she would spend most of the movie wishing she had. Plus, she wanted a soda and some popcorn.

Mikey was standing in line at the concession stand when she came out. The previews started when they sat down. “I forgot what we’re seeing.”

“You picked it,” he said with a laugh.

Grace balanced the popcorn on her lap and put on her sweatshirt. Mikey steadied the large tub. After another minute of situating herself Mikey handed her the popcorn. He grabbed a handful. She ate one piece at a time.

“Do you always eat your popcorn one at a time like that?”

“Yep. I want it to last.”

“Okay, but they have free refills, you know.”

“I know, but I don’t like to miss any of the movie. What are we seeing again?”

Mikey chuckled and the lights dimmed. The film turned out to be completely uninteresting. She laid her head on his shoulder. Her eyelids sagged.

The end of the movie came to an abrupt halt. Or had she fallen asleep? Her foot bumped into the empty tub of popcorn on the floor at her feet. Grace bent down and picked it up. “Ah, did you eat all my popcorn?”

“Guilty,” Mikey confessed, “and you look adorable when you’re sleeping.”

“Sorry. I guess I was tired.”

“Well, you didn’t miss much, the movie was terrible.”

Mikey laced his fingers through hers on the way back to the car. He didn’t open the door right away. Instead, put his arms around her waist and leaned in for a kiss. Grace glanced around for potential voyeurs. “There are people.”

“I don’t care who sees,” he said against her lips and slipped his hand up the back of her neck.

“I have sleep breath,” she cautioned him.

“Also don’t care.”

His lips brushed against hers. “Mmmm,” she moaned. Her eyes closed; her hands weaved into his thick hair. He ran his hands down her back and cupped her bottom. She sucked on his lower lip and he groaned.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered.

“Then don’t.” Every part of her felt weightless. Hungry for this man and what he did to her body. Her panties were soaked. She could feel her bra rub against her hard nipples.

A group of people walked by and Grace broke contact. Mikey wasn’t discouraged and hugged her closely. He nuzzled her neck. “That tickles.” Her body quivered as she giggled. “We should go.”

“But I’m having so much fun.” He took a step backward with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Get in the car,” she commanded. He hit the remote unlock button on his key fob. In seconds they were in the back seat of his SUV. Thank God for tinted windows at night. She straddled his thighs and undid his pants, revealing his hard cock. Her loose skirt made it easy for Mikey to grab her underwear. The lace tore when he pulled at the crotch. “Wait, I brought something.” She reached into her purse and found the three-pack of Trojans. He used his teeth to tear a square foil. “Here, let me do that.”

“All right, darlin’.” He eased back with his hands behind his head. His eyes stayed on her face.

“There, all done.” Grace glided down on top of him and he thrusted his hips toward her. “Ow.” Her head bumped the roof.

“Sorry…you, okay?”

“Oh God, yes,” she announced, although not to answer his question. She tilted her head and put their foreheads together. His rapid breathing matched hers. They kept the same slow rhythm, enjoying each other in the moment that neither of them wanted to end.

She slipped her hand between them and found the top of her sex. “Oh…oh…oh…never stop, oh God.” The wet heart of her pulsated around him. Her vision fuzzed in and out and her entire body tightened. She realized she was no longer doing most of the work.

Mikey gripped her ass, grinding into her, his gasps coming faster and louder. “Grace…I’m getting close…oh God…oh fuck.”

“Come for me, baby…please,” she told him.

He squeezed her fiercely and released.

She giggled. “God, you’re so sexy.” They held onto each other waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

He kissed her. “You’re amazing too, thank you. I really like being with you.”

“Me too. And thank you.” She put her hand up to her mouth. “Um, do you think anyone saw or heard us?”

“I dunno. Who cares?”

“I guess you’re right and it’s too late to worry about that now. Oops.”

They righted their clothing and got into the front seat. “Where to next?” she asked as he started the car.

“I don’t know. I was thinking more sex at your place, unless you’re too tired.” He winked at her.

“Nope. Got my power nap on in the theater.”

“Yes you did.” His laughter filled the car.

Her head flopped against the headrest. “Did I snore?”

“A little. I think the theater next to us heard.”

He cursed under his breath at the Cadillac in front of them. The traffic had been cleared but the car failed to make a left turn out of the parking lot.

Grace pushed his shoulder. “They did not.”

He chuckled. “No, but you thought about it, didn’t you?”

“Oh my God, I so don’t like you right now.”

“Yes you do.” He grinned and made a right turn out of the movie theater parking lot.

So sure of himself, is he?

She crossed her arms in defeat. He reached out for her hand, and she allowed him to take it. He surprised her and brought the hand up to his lips. Grace’s father had always told her that if a man does this, he truly respects and cares for you.

Up the road a seatbelt/DUI check had been set up. Several cop cars were parked along both sides of the road. A uniformed cop in the middle of the road waved cars on or made them pull over to the right.

“What’s this now?” Mikey said.

Grace slumped down in her seat. She recognized the cop directing the drivers. Her dad and he bowled together for years and he was a regular at her father’s poker nights at the house. Not that she played with “the boys,” except she’d been seen over there during the games.

Mikey glanced at her. “Ah, if you’re wanted by the police, I think your behavior may be deemed suspicious.”

“What do you mean?” She sat back up but looked out the opposite window.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m kidding.”

“I know.” Her elbow was propped up on door and she rested her cheek on the back of her hand.

Mikey reached the cop’s position and rolled down his window.

“Can you pull over for me?” The officer pointed to the side. He looked at Grace. His brow raised as recognition passed over his face.

“No problem,” Mikey told him.

“Grace?” the cop asked, ducking his head below the top of the window.

One corner of her mouth perked up. “Hi.”

“I thought that was you, Gracie.” The cop yelled over the top of the car, “Hey, Bobby! Gracie’s in this car.”

Great.

Just what she needed, another man bailing after learning her dad was a detective.

“Friends of yours?” Mikey asked, pulling into the spot he was told.

“Yeah, they used to play poker with my dad.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping he wouldn’t ask her a follow up question. Thankfully, he got the message.

Bobby walked over. “Well, let’s see, do you have your seatbelts on?”

Grace glanced heavenward. As if they were looking for seatbelt law violators.

“License and registration, please,” he told Mikey and winked at her. She half-smiled in return.

Please don’t ask about Dad.

“This will only take a minute.” Unwarranted fatherly nonsense kicked in for Bobby. “You had anything to drink tonight, son?”

Grace flopped her head on the seat.

Are you kidding me? No, she mouthed.

“We’re coming from a movie,” Mikey said.

Bobby disappeared for a couple of minutes. Mikey tapped his heel on the floor boards. “Uh, Grace, you should probably know this, so there aren’t any surprise—”

“Vision impaired driving, huh?” Bobby said with a smirk, interrupting her boyfriend.

Grace knew vision impaired meant a drunk-driving misdemeanor conviction. She remembered him telling her he shouldn’t drink on their date at Cocoa’s. The cop handed Mikey his papers and he stuffed his ID into his wallet without making eye contact.

“Be safe. Don’t drink. Bye, Grace.” The cop walked away. They were waved through.

“You were about to tell me about this when he walked up, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, sorry. I haven’t had a drink in over a year.” He stared out the windshield.

“It’s all right. Mistakes happen.” She held his hand.

They drove to her place in silence. She vowed never to speak of that moment ever again and not because of what she learned about him; she didn’t want him to know her father was a cop yet.

How many relationships had failed in the beginning because they learned this fact too early? Grace didn’t know why men freaked out, but they did. It was scary to think that maybe it was because they had something to hide. She put her angst out of her mind.

She yawned outside her apartment door and so did he. “You tired too?”

“Not really, but I should get—”

“You’re coming in, right?” she blurted out, hoping to avoid being blown off.

“You want me to?”

“You know I meant it when I said it’s all right about the drunk-driving thing.”

“I know, thank you,” he said but she knew otherwise. His embarrassment had been evident. She took both his hands. Her father had taught her that people could change if they wanted to.

His heavy-lidded eyes found her lips. Out in the hallway he bent down and picked her up and pressed her against the door. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her until they were both out of breath.

He set her down and mussed her hair. Her hands turned into thumbs while she fiddled with the lock.

“Let me help you. Please.” His eyes flared.

“All right, as long as I can help you out of your jeans.”

“Stand back.” He raised his leg mimicking kicking the door down.

“No—oh…ha. Very funny.”

The door swung open and he entered after her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Mikey

A woman leaned over the glass display counter at Ink Addiction. Mikey didn’t recognize her at first. She was the new waitress at Hector’s, hired after Jennifer’s murder. He shuddered. The girl had died in order for Mary to have that job. The restaurant didn't have a high turnover as far as he knew. He'd been frequenting the place for years. Mary seemed to be interested in the jewelry in the case. She squatted so she was eye-level with the front of the glass. When she abruptly stood up he knew it was because she realized they were rings and barbells made for tongues, navels, noses, lips, and any body part one could get pierced. She’d probably thought they were pretty until closer inspection. She grimaced and backed away. Mikey chuckled.

“Can I help you with something, Mary?” He sauntered down the length of the counter.

Mary blushed and looked up at him. “No. I—you know me?”

“You work at Hector’s and you almost waited on me and my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember now.”

Mikey smiled. “What brings you in today?”

The chimes over the door jangled and they both turned in the direction of the sound. Cody strode in and parked himself next to her.

“Hey, man. What can I do for you today?” Mikey asked, offering his hand to shake Cody’s. An offering the other man always ignored.

“A tattoo.”

“Figured. What will it be this time? Got some new designs finished, if you'd like to take a look.” Mikey smiled, he was proud of his new creations. Lots of color.

“No. Well maybe she would,” Cody said. Mary swiveled her head toward him, her eyes widening with an expression of no-way. She shook her head.

“I don't think she's interested,” Mikey said.

“She wants one.”

While they argued amongst themselves, Mikey walked away to attend to another walk-in potential client. He glanced at the guy with his slouched knit hat and Abercrombie and Fitch clothing.

The hipster produced a folded-up design. The sketch was rough, but he could work with it. Mikey studied the drawing. “Been inked before?” he asked.

“Nope. I'm a virgin.”

I'll bet.

“What you've drawn here will have to be a lot bigger to get all the detail work to look good. Even with a finer needle.”

“She knows what she wants now,” Cody interrupted.

Mikey closed his eyes and sighed. “Be with you in minute,” he threw over his shoulder.

“As I was saying. The tattoo will have to be larger if you want it to look good. Where you want it?” Mikey disliked how he sounded different at work. His grammar wasn't great to begin with, but in his shop, it got hella worse.

“I was thinking the inside of my arm. Right here.” Hipster showed him the place.

Mikey sensed Cody's eyes boring into the back of his skull. He held up an index finger indicating he needed a minute longer.

“Cool. I'll draw it up. Have to come in tomorrow, though. Got a couple appointments later. How's four PM?”

“All right. Four. Cool.”

“See ya.”

Mikey reluctantly pivoted. Cody was holding hands with Mary, except he looked uncomfortable with the arrangement. Mikey lifted his brows in question. “Did you kids sort it out?”

“Yes. She'd like my name on the inside of her wrist,” Cody said.

Would she?

Mikey thought not.

“Same script as Jennifer,” he said. Mary glared at him. Mikey nodded, ignoring the girl’s reaction. He went to get set up.

Mikey patted the tattooing chair. Mary sat down on the edge. “First time, darlin’?” She nodded. “I'll try to be gentle. But I'll warn you, wrists are sensitive.” He snapped on black latex gloves. “Latex allergy?” He took hold of her wrist and positioned it on the padded arm.

Mary shook her head. “What does it feel like?”

“Most say it's like a bee sting.” She jerked her arm back to her body. “Look, you don't have to do this.”

“She'll do it. Right, Mary?” Cody said warningly.

“Yea, it's fine. I'll…I'll do it.”

Mikey thought about arguing. He sighed instead. He could recommend a good dermatologist later when she came back wanting it removed. He transferred the lettering onto her wrist then reminded her to stay still while he worked. Mary tensed when the buzzing began. “Try and relax. First time is the worst. I think it's just the anticipation.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Mikey

Cody paced behind Mary while Mikey worked on her wrist. He glanced at the asshole every couple of minutes and shook his head, hoping the he would get the hint to go stand someplace else, like outside. Down the block. To Mary’s credit she didn’t cry or whine. Wrists were one of the more sensitive locations to get tattooed. When Mikey finished the last letter, he had never been more grateful in his entire life.

“Let me clean you off,” Mikey told Mary as he put the tattoo gun down.

“O-okay.”

After wiping Mary's wrist, he looked up. The expression on Cody's face caught his attention for a moment. What was with this guy? Cody was an odd duck for sure, and there was no law against being strange, but this whole name tattoo shit felt off. Mikey focused his attention on smearing antiseptic ointment on her wrist and covering it with Saran-wrap.

“Leave the bandage on for about four hours or so.”

“Is that it?”

“Yep. After that just let it breathe. And here.” Mikey handed her a note with aftercare instructions.

“Thanks,” she said and took the paper with a coy, one-sided smile.

Cody narrowed his gaze on him. Normally, Mikey would walk his clients to the counter to pay, but Cody shoved a fifty-dollar bill at him. The men stared at each other.

“Can I help you with something?” Mikey asked.

Cody didn't respond.

Weirdo.

Another discomforting moment passed between them, and Mikey gave up trying to make sense of it all.

“Um…let's go, okay?” Mary urged her boyfriend.

“Yea,” Cody said without ending the stare down.

Mikey furrowed his brow. The guy's eyes raked over him and he shivered; he felt like tiny spiders had crawled up his spine. Cody gripped Mary's bicep in a possessive hold. He marched them past the new gap-mouthed receptionist, Mandy, and on out of the shop.

When they were gone Mikey turned to the latest receptionist. “Okay, that was bizarre. Cody paced during the whole session. Drove me nuts.”

“Yeah, that guy is a serious douche.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Harry

Harry hated this part of town. Although impressive when newly built, most of the houses had dilapidated, caved in roofs and broken windows covered with plastic. Some had been converted into boarding houses then later reverted back to single family dwellings after World War II. Now the streets were lined with vacant homes and lots, occupied by people too poor to move on to better neighborhoods, and Cedric.

The state government had settled out of court for the mishandling of his murder trial and subsequent unlawful incarceration. Cedric could afford to leave but chose to stay in his mother's old house. Being the only one with the brains in the family, she had moved out. Harry pulled up to the curb in front of the nicest house on the block. The front door was shut and a barred screen door was always kept locked. He knocked.

Harry heard a woman’s laughter then the door swung open. The woman leaned against the jamb. Her eyes met his and the smile slipped from her face. “There's a cop at the door,” she called over her shoulder.

“What's he look like? Is he wearing a cheap suit?”

The woman in fake leather leggings and midriff top looked Harry up and down. “Yeah. And ugly shoes.”

Booming laughter came around the corner from the living room. There were sounds of a cane stabbing the bare wood floor and a shuffling of feet then Cedric appeared. “Hey, Harry.” Cedric waved him in. “Veronica’s leaving.”

The woman Harry guessed was a hooker by the way she knew he was a cop waited with her hand out. Cedric handed her two twenties. “That’s it?”

“Woman, you already stole from me.”

“Whatever.” She spun on her heel and walked toward the door.

“See you next week,” he called after her.

Veronica ignored him.

“Tuesday.”

“Whatever, Cedric,” she said and slammed the door behind her.

Harry grinned at the exchange.

“Bitches steal, man. I have to lock everything up.” Cedric threw a hand up and shuffled back to the couch.

Hunter settled into the chair opposite him. The right thing would be for him to be concerned about the criminal activity, except he’d ignored it too long to say anything about it now. He waited for his friend to make his usual denial.

“She isn't one of them prostitutes,” Cedric told him.

“Of course not.” Harry swirled the no longer even warm coffee around the bottom of the disposable cup. He downed the last of it and stared at the empty cup. “Ced…” Harry paused and his friend knew why.

“Why don't you arrest him?”

“Can't.” Harry looked skyward.

“What if you're wrong and he did kill those women?” Cedric countered.

“What if he didn't?” Harry looked up at Cedric then down at his hands curled around the empty cup. “I wanna be sure.”

“Maybe you don't get sure? I thought you'd gotten over this shit, the past. Guess I was wrong.” Cedric eased his back on the couch and rubbed his jawline. “It's because you know him.”

Harry nodded. “I think it's clouding my judgment.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “Maybe you ought to have someone else interview him.”

“Maybe,” Harry said after a few moments of reflection.

His old friend rolled his eyes. “Don't tell me you're that broken up about just this?”

Harry shrugged.

“How's Grace?”

“Fuck you.”

“Thought so.”

Laughter filled the room.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Mikey

“Detective Hunter asked me to have a chat with you.”

“I know. That's why I'm being questioned again. You said that already.” Mikey sighed heavily. “I don't have anything new to add, by the way.”

“Let us determine that,” Detective Brown said. “Are you waiving your right to an attorney?”

Mikey considered two things. One, he'd been questioned twice regarding the murders and now there was about to be a third time. The second thing was he really didn't know what his rights were and it was probably in his best interests to have a lawyer present. The police had already ransacked his house, searched his car. He was lucky they hadn't impounded his Escape. Either there had been an oversight or it had been a gift.

“No. I want to have an attorney here.”

“All right.”

Mikey hid a smirk behind a grimace. He really hadn't been too worried before but now that Hunter asked another detective to question him, there was more reason for concern. Mikey tapped his foot under the table in the interrogation room, smoothing his sweaty palms on his thighs. As he waited for the attorney to show up he thought again about where he knew Harry from and came up with nothing. The only attorney he could get on such short notice, Maxwell Harvey, showed up and the interview resumed.

“Mr. Hardin, can you tell us where you were the night of May 20, 2016?”

His attorney indicated he answer the question.

“At work. I stayed late working on some new designs. I get requests from time to time for specific things, so when I get enough clients asking for the same…” He trailed off because of the look on Brown's face.

“You indicated before that you were alone. Is that correct?”

“Yes. The other artists set their own schedules, so when they’re done for the night, they take off.”

“So no one can verify how late you worked?”

“No, I sent Suzie home around nine-thirty, nine-forty-five-ish. Sometime around then.”

“This Suzie, she's the receptionist?”

“Yep. Was.” Mikey was aware that his former employee had told police what time she left. He didn't know what she'd said but figured that the time was close to what he thought. His foot began to settle until Brown didn't say anything for a long moment.

Brown opened a brown folder and placed four photos of Felicia Potts out on the table side by side. The first was a high-school yearbook photo of her, the next two were of her at the crime scene, and the last was a picture taken of her during the autopsy. Mikey turned his head. His eyes squeezed shut involuntarily then he coughed.

“Mr. Hardin? Have you seen this woman before?”

“Yeah. I dated her a few times, but I hadn't seen her for about six months.” He glanced around the room trying to keep his eyes off the table. Looking the detective in the face would probably be a good idea, however, that would require him to get a vomit-inducing eyeful of the photos. The cop noted his reaction.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing,” Mikey breathed. He faced Maxwell, who looked confused. “Can't stand to look at those.”

“What can you tell me about the victim?”

“What do you want to know?” Mikey moaned.

“Detective Brown,” his attorney cut in, “my client—”

Mikey waved his attorney off. “It's all right. I've been asked to tell you everything I know before and I already answered. I don't know anything more than the last time. We dated a few times. I moved on. Period. I feel worse than you could ever believe. How scared she must have been. How her family must feel not being able to see her again. I have a kid of my own. I can't even imagine someone hurting him. It's disgusting how someone could do that to another person.”

Brown put the set of photos away and opened another folder.

“Oh Jesus!” Mikey said when a second set of photos were laid out one by one.

“What about Jennifer Swanson? Did you know her?”

“You know I did. She worked at the restaurant I eat at regularly.”

“My client's alibi checked out for the time of death, Detective Brown,” Maxwell said.

“Did you kill her?”

“I'm going to advise my client not to answer the question he's already answered without an attorney present.”

“It's all right, Harvey,” Mikey said. “I didn't kill her or anyone else.”

Brown sat back in his metal chair and eyed his suspect. Then he shuffled papers and put the photos back inside the folder.

“Are you charging my client?” Maxwell asked.

Brown shook his head. Mikey didn’t smile, nor did he feel relieved.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Grace

“Oh shoot.” Grace tapped her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Natalie asked.

“I forgot I needed to go to the bank. There’s a Bank of America up the street from the gallery. Do you mind?”

“No problem. I’ll stop. I have to get gas anyway.” Natalie pulled into the bank’s parking lot and Grace got out of the car. “Hey listen…mind if I head to the gas station on the corner while you do your thing?”

Grace looked over the roof of the sedan. An empty car, as far as she could tell, sat in the strip mall parking lot across the street. Most of the businesses were specialty shops and closed early on the weekends. Although the street was dim the ATM vestibule was lit up, as was the corner gas station. “Go ahead. I’ll be a few minutes anyway.”

Natalie’s older model sedan pulled into the gas station at the corner less than a hundred yards away. Inside the ATM enclosure, Grace readied her deposit. She swiped her card through the reader and entered her pin number. The machine showed an advertisement for home loan financing options. “Nope. I do not want to see your options,” she said aloud as she pressed ‘No, thank you’ on the screen. After a few more questions, the mouth to insert money opened up and swallowed her paycheck.

Headlights shined into the vestibule, lighting the small space. Grace glanced behind her. The car she had seen parked across the street pulled alongside the curb in front of the ATM.

A shadow of a body cast over the atrium. “Just a minute,” she called loudly over her shoulder so she could be heard on the outside. She hurriedly shoved her wallet back into her purse and turned around. A man adjusted the brim of his baseball cap low over his eyes, keeping his head down, shielding most of his face under the hat. He opened the door and stood inside blocking her escape.

Grace gasped. “C-Cody?”

“Don't you know there's a killer on the loose?” He narrowed his stared on her and licked his lips. She didn’t think he was sexually attracted to her so the gesture was a surprise.

“Yeah…I-I know that.”

“Do you?”

She remained in the same spot, frozen to the tile. “Are you going to let me pass?”

“What do you think?”

She groped around inside her purse and found the canister of pepper spray her overprotective father insisted she carry with her at all times. His eyes never left her face.

“Excuse me, my friend will be back any—”

Cody surged forward and snatched her around the waist.

“Noooo!” she screamed and dropped her purse.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Grace

Grace concealed her pepper spray in her fist with a finger on the trigger. Cody tried to push them through the door. When he lifted her, she brought her feet up and slammed them into either side the heavy glass door, halting his forward motion. She pushed off the door-jamb as hard as she could and forced both of them backward. He made a guttural sound when his back hit the ATM machine behind him. His grip loosened and she wriggled her hand with the mace free. She kicked back with her heeled boot into his shin.

“Bitch!”

She wrenched out of his hold with a twist of her body. Turning around, she brought the canister up and depressed the trigger.

Cody grunted. The smell burned her eyes and the mist poisoned her lungs. He staggered back and hit a glass wall.

Fleeing with both hands out in front, she slammed the door open. The fresh air was a relief from the choking fumes. She screamed; her throat stinging. She wasn’t sure if her heart worked anymore because she certainly wasn’t breathing. Tears streamed down her face. Blurry eyed, she sprinted up the street toward the safety of the gas station.

“Natalie! Natalie! Heeeelp!”

She didn't dare chance a glance behind her, she kept on running and calling out until she reached the Mobile station. Natalie's face went ghost pale when she saw Grace.

Grace darted across the road. Horns honked, tires squealed, but she was able to make it across safely. When she reached the older woman, she fell into her arms. “Oh God!”

“What happened? What happened?” Natalie asked.

“I was so scared. OhmyGod. OhmyGod.” Grace gasped, unable to get more words out. A man came over and surprised her. “No!”

The man backed up with his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I only wanted to see if there was anything I can do.”

Grace's entire body trembled. When she looked up again, the man still stood there except at a more comfortable distance, and had a cell phone up to his ear. She turned back to Natalie. “Police…my dad…c-call the police.”

“This guy is calling them.”

All Grace could manage to do was nod. Natalie broke the hug and took her hands. “It's all right. It's going to be all right.”

“I was so scared.”

“I know. I know.” Natalie scanned the street and down toward the bank. There wasn’t anyone there.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Harry

Harry placed a cup of hot chocolate in his daughter's shaky hands. He ran his palms down his face. His eyes were bloodshot and a tension crease in his forehead the size of the Mariana Trench throbbed. The way Grace sat made her look so small and fragile. He wanted to protect her.

He perched on the edge of his desk. “Tell me what happened.”

“Natalie dropped me off at the ATM and went to go get some gas.”

“Late at night when someone is out there killing women?”

She held up her hand. “Dad, don't start. She was just up the street and there's lights and a camera at the bank. I thought I was safe. Enough.”

Harry shook his head.

“Anyway, it was this guy I know, Cody. As soon as I saw him—”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. Hold up. You know this asshole?”

Grace gripped the cocoa in both hands and blew ripples across the surface. “Yeah. I met him once.”

“How? When?” Harry pressed.

“I don't know, a while ago. He creeped me out then, but…”

Harry raised his brow in question. “But?”

“I figured he was all right, I guess. The man I've been seeing knows him from work. Or…something.”

Harry knew his daughter was holding something back. “Who are you trying to protect here, Grace?”

“I'm not trying to protect anyone. His name is the only thing I know about the guy.”

Harry’s temples pulsated. He closed his eyes for an extended moment. “And you don't know his last name? Where did you meet him?”

“At Hector’s Coney Island.” Grace glanced at the clock over her father's head on the wall behind him. “Listen, I've already made my statements. I'm tired and I really want to go home.”

“Fine. We can’t review the surveillance tape until tomorrow anyway. But you're not going home. You said you lost your purse and we didn't find it at the scene. You'll be safer at the house. My house.”

“No thanks. I'll go to a friend’s.”

“Gracie, I don't—”

She got up to leave. “Save it, Harry. I'm still pissed at you.”

“Wait. I’ll take you to—”

“No thanks. Natalie’s waiting.”

***

Grace

Grace walked out of the station, grateful her father didn’t follow. Natalie waited out front for her. She sighed when Natalie turned out of the police station parking lot, relieved to be away from all the questions and overhead fluorescent bulbs. Her head hurt. Hell, her entire body ached, including her hair.

“Natalie?”

“Yeah?”

“My father doesn't want me going home, so can you drop me off someplace else? Do you mind?”

“Tell me where to go.”

Grace gave her the directions. Mikey's place wasn't much further from where they were. Five minutes later, they pulled up to the curb in front of his house. Grace flipped the visor down and checked herself out in the mirror.

“It's late. Maybe you should call him first,” Natalie suggested. “I mean before you knock on the door in the middle of the night, in case he's sleeping.”

Grace slapped the visor up in disgust. There was no fixing what was going on with her makeup. She needed soap and water. “I don't have my phone, remember? And I don't have his number memorized.”

“All right. I'll wait here for you to make sure you get in all right, okay?”

“Uh huh, thanks.” She dragged herself to the porch.

Grace rang the doorbell, but didn't hear a chime. She pressed it again. Silence.

Great.

Not about to give up, she pounded on the door. And again. A light turned on, which shone through the glass side panels and sheer curtains. A few seconds later the door opened.

A ruffled looking Mikey stepped into view. “Grace, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry so late I—I lost my phone. Otherwise, I would have called.” Grace smoothed her hair with her fingers.

“Are you all right, what happened?”

“Cody is what happened.”

His fell mouth open. “What do you mean?”

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Yeah, please come in.”

She knew not only was her hair a mess, her mascara had smeared down her cheeks, and her eyes were still red from the pepper spray. He pulled her to his chest and hugged her. The heat from his body warmed her. She sighed and sagged into him. He rested his chin on the top of her hair.

Natalie’s car was still idling at the curb in front of his house.

“Friend of yours?” he asked.

“Oh crap.” Grace stepped from his embrace and waved at Natalie. “That was Natalie. A friend of mine.”

Mikey took her hand and led her back to his bedroom. The master bathroom was what she wanted.

“I'll get you a fresh towel so you can wash your face or take a shower.” He went to the linen closet in the hallway.

She looked into the mirror while he was gone. Her appearance was worse than she imagined. How embarrassing. He came back into the bathroom and stood behind her while she splashed warm water on her face and neck.

“Grace, what happened?” He crossed his arms over his chest and his feet at the ankles, leaning against the door.

“Ahhh, I think…I'm going to take a shower. Okay?”

“Please, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're here, but what happened?”

“Can we not talk about it right now? I'm still freaked out.” She cast her eyes down to the counter.

Mikey nodded. She turned around when he didn't leave. “Do you have a t-shirt I could borrow?”

“Of course, I'll get you one.”

She'd meant to use that excuse so she could be alone, except when he started to leave she called him back. She wanted him near. “Mikey,” her breath hitched, “can you… stay? With me?”

The expression on his face melted her insides. His eyes burned for her. She swallowed hard. That crooked smile of his made an appearance. The tiny bathroom grew larger and suddenly he seemed so far away. An easy fix. She removed her shirt and stepped closer to him, then slid her jeans down her thighs. Now it was his turn to undress. Luckily for her, he was only wearing gray plaid flannel pajama bottoms.

He gripped the waistband and ripped them down his legs. His cock stood out from him, all proud.

Oh God…oh…

Grace removed her bra and panties and they stood naked before each other. A feeling of vulnerability made her want to cover herself. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

“Please don't,” he said taking her hands. “You have an incredible body.”

“Too skinny,” she whispered. He lifted her chin so she would meet his eyes. Crimson spread over her cheeks.

“You do realize we've had sex before and I've seen every inch of you already, right?”

“I know. But I'm a mess. My mascara is running down—”

“Shhh,” he said, cupping her breasts. She angled her head up as he leaned in for a kiss. “Let's get you cleaned up,” he said against her mouth.

“I know, I’m really dirty.”

“Yep.” With a smile he reached into the shower and turned it on, tested the temperature, and led her inside the cramped stall. They stood under the spray flush against each other. He ran his fingers through her hair, allowing the water to sluice through to the ends. She closed her eyes and moaned.

“Ahhh, that feels good.” He squeezed shampoo into his hands then started massaging her scalp. Her little noises of pleasure continued. Even though she wasn't looking at him she sensed him smiling at her. Her eyes opened; she was right.

“What?”

“Nothing. I'm enjoying the sounds you make.”

She blushed. “I like how you sound too.”

“I wasn't aware I was making any noise.”

She laughed deep in her throat. “You were.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist as he rinsed her hair. They made lots of eye contact. She couldn't take her gaze off of him. His handsome features excited her, but the soulfulness of his blue eyes was his best asset. She felt like she knew him. He would never lie to her. How could anyone with eyes like that ever hurt her? He handed her a bar of soap.

“Thank you.” Should she ask him to wash her? Her cheeks flushed with the idea. But would he think she was needy? She chickened out and lathered herself up. She twirled to allow the suds to slide down her front from the hot water.

Mikey placed his large hands on her hips and more heat flooded her core. He sucked on her neck, flicking his tongue over the cords.

Oh God…

She needed him. She wanted to forget the night ever happened and as long as they were like this, she could.

“I want you,” he murmured, “but we can talk first.”

“Uh uh. Be with me. Please.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Mikey

Mikey carried her into his bedroom after they toweled off. He laid her across the bed. The blankets had been pushed to the end when he'd gotten up to answer the door. She splayed her legs for him. The mattress depressed between her parted thighs then he covered her with his body, hovering over her. An erotic smile landed on her face as her vision focused on his…

She gaped at him.

“What? You like?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I want that in me.”

Mikey pulled the drawer open next to the bed.

“No, in my mouth.”

He reared up onto his knees. “Well, come and get it,” he said doing his superhero impersonation—hands on his hips, chest puffed out. A laugh burst out of her then she slithered to him. He looked down at her with a half-closed gaze.

“Lie down.” When he was on his back she took him into her mouth.

“Oh, Graaace…”

Mikey didn’t want his mind to wander. Grace deserved his full attention but all he could think about had nothing to do with sex. Cody had upset her. Why? And what had happened? She’d been crying, and her mascara had run down her face. In the shower, he’d noticed a few strangely placed bruises on her arm and side. There was also a deep purple one on her knee. He suspected she wasn’t even aware of them.

With his eyes shut and his mind someplace else, he didn’t feel her stop.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re not into this, I can tell.” She let out a wobbly sigh.

“It’s not that. I’m into what you’re doing.”

“But it doesn’t feel good; I’m bad at it.” She moved away from him and lay on her side, covering her face with her arm.

“No, Grace, believe me. I was thinking about what happened with Cody.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I can’t stop thinking about it. I care about you. What did he do? You have some weird bruises.” He put his hand on her side then her knee.

“He attacked me,” Grace said after hitching a breath. “I was at the ATM.”

“What? How?” Mikey reached for her, pulling her to his chest, his gut filled with dread.

“I’m all right. I-I got really scared. Good thing I know a little self-defense.”

He rubbed circles on her back. “Jesus. I hope you reported this.”

“Of course. But I didn’t know his last name. I was going to ask you if you knew it later. I wanted to forget this night.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have told you over the phone. It’s Pollard, as far as I know. He always pays in cash and I usually don’t ask for more information unless the client pays with a card.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me? Never.”

She nodded against his chest. A lopsided smile perked up the corner of her mouth.

“Do you want me to talk to the police?”

“No. It’s handled,” she said.

Mikey brows knitted together. “What’s handled?”

“The investigation or whatever. I’ll text the detective in the morning. You know what’s funny? I already thought the idiot was creepy before.” She shivered.

“Yeah I kind of thought that myself. Dammit. I’m so sorry I introduced you. What did the police say? Cody must’ve followed you.”

“Totally.” She gasped. “Crap, does he know where you live?”

“I don’t think so.”

God. I hope not.

Mikey never thought he would be grateful Brayden would be staying away for a few more weeks. “I think—”

“Shhh.” She put a finger up to his mouth then kissed his lips. “Let’s not think anymore.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Grace

This feels so right.

Mikey’s warm, smooth skin over hard muscles pressed up against her body. Grace squirmed in his arms and he hardened for her again. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Her hands pushed down on his shoulders as she straddled him, her black hair forming a curtain around his face. He smiled up at her. His eyes smoldered like an invitation to join them together.

Her slow, steady rhythm brought forth wonderful noises from him. The power she had over him eased her mind about being attacked. She wanted to be in control tonight. Mikey somehow anticipated what she needed from him.

Mikey’s inhales quickened the way only a man’s did during sex. His manhood thickened inside her. He was getting close to orgasm. The idea made her wetter. Hotter. She sat up more, removed her hands from his shoulders, and placed them on his thighs behind her. Her hair whipped up and around as she tossed her head back. Her cries echoed off the ceiling. She pulsed all around him. His hips surged up and he thrusted into her.

“Oh. Oh. Grace,” he said, sucking in air with each word.

Sweat glistened on his forehead and moistened the back of her neck. His eyes clamped shut and he arched his back. He grabbed her hips like he needed to keep her from escaping. They rode out the waves of ecstasy as one.

After he was spent, she laid out beside him. “I’m starting to like sex more and more.”

“What?” He chuckled. “You didn’t like it before?”

“I did, but not this much. My ex thought I was cold. I wasn’t, I just didn’t like having it with him.”

“I’m not even going to ask why.” He paused. “Okay. Why?”

Grace smiled. The laughter that followed wasn’t something she could do before, when she thought about her bad marriage. “He was an ass. Always too busy for me. Never hugged me unless I asked for one. Then he’d want sex and, well, I didn’t feel like doing it. I guess I needed more attention…”

Shut up, Grace. He doesn’t want to hear about this.

“More attention?” He drew out the second word, looking for more explanation.

She blushed. “I don’t know. I’m not needy or anything, but—”

“I don’t think you’re needy.” He rolled onto his side and rubbed her arm.

“I guess I wanted him to pay a little more attention to me. He was an attorney and gone all the time. Then he expected me to put out without so much as a kiss on the cheek or a hello, how are you?”

“Sounds like a moron. I don’t treat my women like that.”

“Women?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

He grinned and tucked her to his body. “I’m only seeing you, you know.”

“Okay.” Grace tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice and failed.

“Honest. I’m not a player or anything. Although I’ve had more than one girlfriend in the past.”

“At the same time?”

“No, I didn’t mean at the same time, Grace. I know how to treat a lady is all I’m saying.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

God, she needed to clamp her mouth shut with a vice grip.

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t want me to see other people?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she squeaked and buried her face in the crook of her elbow.

“Don’t apologize. I understand. And I’m not seeing anyone else. I want to see where this goes. Like I said, I care about you,” he said.

Grace exhaled like a slow gas leak. “Yeah? Me too.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Grace

Grace lay sprawled out on Mikey’s bed. She scissor-kicked on the blue velveteen blanket and reveled in the softness.

“What are you doing? You’re shaking the whole bed.” Although he faced away from her, she could tell he was smiling.

“Nothing. This blanket is awesome.”

He chuckled and rolled onto his back this time. “It’s only a blanket.”

“No it’s not. Did you hear what I said? It’s awesome.” She grabbed the edge and wrapped the coverlet around her.

“Well, it’s mine and you can’t have it, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said, mounting his hips. “We’ll see about that.” As she leaned forward his knee came up and nudged her down to his chest. Their lips met. “You want me to kiss you now?” she said against his mouth.

“Yes.” His tongue found its way past her lips.

“Mmmm. Me likes.” His shaft grew rigid. She rubbed against him and her body responded the way she intended.

Oh, yes.

His hands cupped and squeezed her bottom. She pushed herself up so her hands were on his shoulders. “Get up. I wanna try something.”

“Does this something involve sex?” He pursed his lips and looked at her out of one eye.

“Of course. But I need you sitting on the floor for this.” He complied and lay out on the tan carpet. She smirked. “You have to sit up. Now bring your knees up.” She straddled him then rose up to give him space to maneuver. “No, not like that. A little lower. I think…there, that’s it.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh, you mean protection? Yeah, about that, I should’ve told you before. I take shots for that.”

“Are you sure?” He kissed her collarbone.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m not diseased or anything. Unless you are? Then…”

“Squeaky clean,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

Grace settled down, taking him inside her. With her head higher than his, her breasts were right in his face. This position required her to do all of the work but the payoff was deeper penetration. And…

Oh yes.

He found one of her nipples and sucked the tight bead into his mouth. She grasped the back of his head and held him in place for a minute or two…or three.

“What do you want me to do?” His eyes were at half-mast. He was already breathing out of his mouth. She licked her lips.

“I don’t know. Enjoy or…grab my ass or something.”

“Not a problem.”

Kama Sutra here I come.

She’d browsed the shelves of the bookstore and happened to come across a certain book accidently, or maybe on purpose. The thought made her grin.

Grace worked up a sweat in the first couple of minutes. Sex was hard work. No wonder men always tried to be on the bottom. She leaned her head back. She’d come to appreciate her nipples and body more since being with Mikey. He made her feel beautiful, sexy. The first orgasm left her thighs weak. She struggled to keep going. Luckily, Mikey was right there with helping hands, like he’d read her mind.

“Oh, Grace. Oh, fuck.”

Her inner walls started to contract. “Mikey!” His name erupted from her mouth. “Come with me, baby.”

The words barely made it past her lips when he shouted in ecstasy. He held onto her as they rode out the waves of pleasure. She flattened his cheek to her chest and stroked his hair.

“You still can’t have my blanket.” He released her and eased his back onto the floor.

“Darn it. Are you serious? My plan didn’t work,” she teased as she got up. “I’m gonna use your shower, do you mind?”

“No. And for future reference you don’t have to ask. Oh shit, what time is it?”

She walked into the bathroom. “Um, it’s Saturday. Do you have to work?”

He sighed. “Unfortunately yes. Not until one o’clock but I have something to do first. I promised to help a friend.”

She walked back into the bedroom. Mikey sat on the side of the bed checking his phone. His finger swiped across the glass screen. A line creased his forehead.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s getting late. I can drop you off at your apartment.”

“I’m not going back there. Lost my purse. I’m sure Cody picked it up.”

“Shit. Well, if you need a place to stay for a while, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” He rose to his feet and stood in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.

Grace looked into his blue eyes, in love with how free he made her feel. She was completely naked and unashamed. “’Kay. Thanks. Where do you have to go this morning? So early?”

“Botanical Park Gardens. Supposed to help plant some trees.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Can I come?”

“Yep.” He kissed her. Maybe the shower could wait.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Mikey

Webster Botanical Park Gardens was Mikey and his son’s favorite place to visit. Mikey felt like a pansy for admitting that out loud and covered up his embarrassment by pretending the only reason he’d volunteered this morning was because his neighbor needed help.

“So what do you need to help plant?” Grace asked while Mikey parked his car in the gravel lot.

“The guy that lives across the street from me. His wife died last winter and loved this place. He wanted to honor her memory by sponsoring a small plot.”

“Oh that’s,” Grace put her hand on her chest, “lovely.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

They got out of the car. The parking lot gravel crunched beneath their feet. Mikey’s white-haired neighbor, Davis, met them at the entrance to the greenhouse turned gift shop and donation center. The guy had cloudy blue eyes and a ruddy face. His handshake was still firm even at eighty-two years old. Davis handed him a pair of leather work gloves.

“Who’s your lady friend?”

“This is my girlfriend, Grace. Grace, this is Davis, my neighbor.”

Grace extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, my dear.” Davis shook her hand. “Mikey tells me you’re an accountant.” He winked at Mikey.

Her face brightened. “Yes. CPA.” She peered over at Mikey.

Yeah, I’ve been talking about you.

“Well, shall we? The plot is over by the pond,” Davis said.

They walked through the greenhouse and made a right. Along the way, Mikey chatted with Davis about the plans for the garden bed.

The pond was actually a stone enclosed aboveground shallow pool with lily pads floating on the surface. Patches of water iris grew up out of the water and a statue of two frogs leaping over each other stood in the middle.

Grace and Mikey lagged behind Davis when they reached the path that wound around the pond. Mikey pointed out the different plants, explaining which ones were annuals and perennials like a florist.

“Wow, you know a lot about this stuff. How often do you visit?”

“Brayden likes this place.”

“So how often?”

“So, a lot.” She bent down and sniffed a few of the roses. Her behind looked amazing in the jeggings she’d put on when they stopped over her place for a few of her things. Mikey couldn’t wait to get her home later.

Davis stopped at an empty bed that surrounded the pond. A flatbed loaded with a Japanese maple and several cartons of perennial flowers and ornamental grasses had been left near the plot.

Mikey looked at the dirt and imagined the best way to plant the vegetation for optimal aesthetics. After all, he was the only artist of the three of them. “I think the maple should be the focal point but let’s make this interesting.”

“Whatever you suggest is fine with me,” Davis said.

Mikey rubbed his chin. “All right, the tree in the back on the right. Tall grasses in a cluster here,” he pointed on the left, “flowers in the middle, and low grasses up front.”

Grace nodded in agreement. “You’re such a botanist.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard me. Trying to make it seem like this isn’t your thing. Blaming your son for coming here so much. But I get it. I’m onto you.”

A lopsided grin spread across Mikey’s face. “I don’t think you know what you’re taking about. I don’t like this place.”

They both chuckled.

“Liar. You do too.”

He came up to her; their chests brushed each other’s. Against her mouth he said, “Shhh, don’t spread rumors.” She stood on her tippy toes and pressed her lips to his.

“Ahem,” Davis cleared his throat. “When you two lovebirds are done I’ll be over here. Sitting on this bench. Right. Here.” He pointed to where he was going to sit.

Mikey laughed. “All right, all right. Let’s get started.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Harry

Harry should have cancelled his plans with Gena. Gracie still wasn’t taking his calls. She’d texted him with the last name of the man who’d attacked her but didn’t answer when he’d called her right back. Over the last forty-eight hours he’d left four messages, each one sounded more pathetic than the last.

The only thing he was interested in right now was getting Gena into the sack. Unfortunately, his moral code required him to buy her dinner first. Call him old-fashioned, he had to at least pretend to care. The truth was she had a similar look to his late wife. Same hair color and figure and all.

Gena sat across from him after they met each other at their usual restaurant. The fact that they had a “usual” anything surprised him. Gena was younger than him by about ten years, maybe more. Remembering her age, although he did know she was over forty, seemed too complicated a concept. Also, this would signify he wanted more than sex. Which he didn’t. He liked her, but he didn’t want to marry her. Harry wasn’t a total ass though; he treated her well when they were together and always picked up the check.

“Harry, I was thinking…”

Uh oh.

He raised his eyebrows. “Uh huh?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you come over to my place tonight?”

“Uh.” Harry held his breath. “I have an early day tomorrow.” He had no interest in sleeping anywhere except his own bed, whether or not Gena was involved, that was her decision.

“On a Sunday?”

“Um…I work some weekends, you know.”

“When was the last time?”

“My daughter was…someone tried to hurt her…” He hesitated because he really shouldn’t discuss an open case, but decided he could be vague. Besides he wanted Gena to stop with all her questions.

Gena covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry. Is she all right?”

He waved off her overly concerned expression. “Yeah, yeah. Shaken up a bit. She’s tough, though.”

“I guess so. That’s scary.” She leaned back in the booth.

“Now you see why I have to work?”

She nodded.

He kept his eyes on the table. “Thanks. You’re welcome to come over.”

“I might be talked into that.” The light from the candle on the table sparkled in her eyes. He asked for the check, feeling a renewed lust for her.

Harry turned the corner onto his street, Chippewa Park. Grace’s car was parked in Natalie’s driveway. He slumped down in his seat as low as he could and still be able to see over the dashboard.

What am I doing?

If she were looking out the window, she’d still know who was in the tan Buick. He only owned one vehicle.

The garage door trundled up painfully slow.

Jesus. Come on.

He groaned to himself.

“Is everything all right?” Gena asked.

“Yeah. I can’t wait to get inside.” He killed the engine after starting the torturous closing of the garage.

She sucked in a breath. “Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

Wha…oh.

He’d almost forgotten he was about to get laid. Guilt or no guilt over Gracie and her mother, he needed to relieve some stress before his head exploded.

His bones cracked maneuvering himself out of the car. He stretched his arms over his head and behind his back. At one time Harry had six-pack abs and he could’ve sworn he was once taller.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Just limbering up,” he said and opened the door to the house.

Gena took four steps and spun around. Harry ran into her in the darkened hallway outside the kitchen. She pulled him into a kiss. She was tall for a woman, or maybe it was the shrinking-man thing again. Oh, who cared? Harry broke the kiss and led her to the bedroom.

Once inside the room, she headed for the bed. He came up behind her while he unzipped his pants. She slid her hair over one of her shoulders. His lips found her neck and kissed and sucked.

“Oh, that feels good,” she moaned.

He undid her pants and moved them down her thighs. “Bend over,” he purred in her ear.

“Anything you want.”

Harry thanked God for women over forty who’d had hysterectomies. He pressed into her slick channel, deciding to make this a quickie in the process. Hard and fast was the way Gena liked doing it anyway. He wasn’t into making love any more than she was. Gena never minded when he called her Annie during sex. Who would put up with that other than someone not thinking long term? Not many women.

Sweat dripped down his cheek. He panted jagged breaths. He adjusted his grip on her hips. A couple more thrusts and the walls of her began milking him. She pitched forward and he followed, driving her into the mattress. His orgasm gathered and built.

“Oh…oh…oh…ahhh…Nat-alie…” He collapsed onto her back with an elbow on either side of her, his heart pounding.

“Did you…call me Natalie?”

“No.” He swallowed hard and licked his lips.

“Yeah, you did. Who’s Natalie?” She rolled to her side and pushed him off her back.

“Um…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, I put up with you calling me Annie because she’s your dead wife and there’s no threat to me, but Natalie? No. No way.” Gena stood and fixed her pants and underwear. “I’ll be leaving now. Fun while it lasted, huh?” She stomped down the hall.

“Hey, wait, let me give you a ride home,” he called but didn’t run after her.

“Don’t bother! I’ll walk!” The front door creaked.

Harry sat up on the bed. “You live over a mile away.”

“Goodbye, Harry!”

SLAM! The walls of the house shook.

“Natalie? Really?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Mikey

As far as receptionists went, Mandy had proven her staying power. She’d survived an entire week. Mikey liked her. She was sassy although respectful to customers. Her thin arms gave her tattoo sleeve femininity. The roses in thin black lines done with a fine needle only had splashes of color.

Mikey finished up his last client for the day. After the dude paid and was out the door, he cleaned up his work area, including the padded lounge chair. He had a seat and stretched out, laying his head against the headrest.

The phone rang.

“Ink Addiction,” Mandy answered. She listened to the caller. “Um…I’m not sure…what? …Um, I’ll have to see if he’s available.”

Mikey sat up and waved “no” at her. He was done for the night and wished he’d left instead of being lazy.

“Uh huh. I understand but he’s not taking any more clients tonight.” She held the phone away from her ear. Mikey heard the guy squawking on the other end from across the room. Mandy put the phone on her shoulder. “He’s insisting on talking to you.”

Mikey lumbered to his feet. Who is it? he mouthed on the way to the phone.

“It’s that guy,” she whispered.

He wasn’t in the mood for whatever idiot was on the phone; he could say ‘that guy’ about a number of his regulars.

“Hello, this is Mike.”

“Your receptionist said—”

He talked over the caller. “Sorry, but I’m not doing any more tattoos tonight, man. I’m all tapped out. We can schedule you for—”

“Not acceptable.”

Mikey didn’t listen to the rest. He recognized the voice. “Cody? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse you. You got some balls. Don’t contact me again!” Mikey slammed the phone down.

Mandy’s face lit up. “Wow. I don’t think I ever seen you get mad before.”

He braced himself on the counter. “I get mad sometimes.”

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Should I get that?” she asked.

Ring.

“Ink Addiction,” Mikey said into the phone. When he heard Cody’s familiar throat clearing, he hung the phone up and unplugged the cord from the back of its cradle. “I can’t believe that bastard. If you see him again, call the police.”

Mandy stared at him. “What happened?”

“He attacked Grace.”

Mandy’s eyes became saucers. “What?”

“You heard me right.”

“Oh my God.” She put her hand over her open mouth. “Is she all right? And more importantly, why is he not in jail?”

“Beats the hell out of me. She’s fine. Freaked out, but fine.”

“That’s messed up. He must have jumbo balls to call here after that.”

“Yep.” He blew out a breath. “I’m tired…Grace is waiting at my house for me. Let me walk you out.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Harry

Harry studied Cedric’s living room. He had photocopies of old news stories pinned to the wall. Pictures of the murder victims were stuck to a city road map at the locations where the bodies were found. The map was an artist’s rendition drawn in perspective and on the cartoonish side, meant for tourists. He scratched his head. “Good Lord, Cedric. When I asked for your help, I didn’t mean make a wall collage. What is all this stuff?”

“It’s only a few things. I was thinking about your suspect. The two murders were eerily similar to an unsolved from about a year ago.” Cedric limped over and stood next to him.

“I’m listening.” Harry sipped his coffee.

“You ever think about cuttin’ back on the caffeine?”

Harry glanced at his friend then went back to staring at the wall in front of them. “What about the unsolved?”

“Same MO. Blunt force trauma to the back of the head, but the woman had dark hair.”

“Yeah. No connection to Hardin that we know of.” Harry looked into his empty Timmy H cup, like he could will more coffee to appear.

“I know. But these recent killings might be related. Maybe you should do a little more digging on this Chelsea Rand girl.” Cedric pointed to the girl’s picture with his cane and tapped the news print photo.

“I thought about that, but now I have a more pressing matter. Grace.”

“Yeah, I know, she’s pissed at you.”

“Not that. She was attacked, and I think by the same man who committed these murders.” He mumbled a curse; he missed his daughter.

“Shit!” Cedric exclaimed. “I assume since you’re standing here, she’s all right.”

“Yeah. Funny thing is she knew the guy, or met him once.”

“Where’s your daughter hanging out these days?”

“Watch it.” Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything.”

“Forget it,” Harry said. “We ran his name and came up with nothing. Either it’s an alias or he’s completely off the grid. A ghost.”

“Not likely,” Cedric countered. “Do me a favor and check the old case files on that Rand girl. Maybe something will look differently now.” He stabbed the floor with his walking stick on the way back to his recliner. Harry stepped closer to the news clippings on the wall for a better look. He read one of the articles about Chelsea Rand. It was before her body had been found and she was still a missing person. The headline read,

WOMAN MISSING SINCE TUESDAY.

“You said you were thinking about the suspect, Hardin?”

“Yeah about that. I don’t think he did it but I think the murderer knows him,” Cedric said.

“Why, you think he’s targeting him? Except how do you explain the tips we received?”

“I’m not looking at that. And besides, you already mentioned you think they were both from the ex-wife with an agenda.” Cedric popped up the footrest on the Laz-E-Boy.

“Yeah, but I may be reconsidering my earlier position.”

“Oh bullshit, Harry. Talk to your suspect. Find out if he knew Chelsea Rand. If he did then decide.”

“I hate it when you make sense. And why didn’t you become a cop again?”

“I decided to go to prison instead. Thought it’d be fun.”

Harry had no idea how Cedric had forgiven him for putting him in prison.

“Sit down, Harry. Tell me why Gracie’s mad at you, again.”

“What are you, my shrink now?” Harry tilted his head back. “Fine.” He flopped down on the sofa, the plastic cover creaking beneath him. He briefly wondered if he needed to bathe after, or wash his hands. “You don’t have sex on this thing, do you?”

“Why do you think there’s a cover on it?”

Harry cringed. Cedric laughed. “Gotcha, didn’t I? No, I don’t have sex on my couch. I’m not that limber.”

Harry sighed. “She found out about my women.”

“How?”

“Natalie.”

“Oh, I like her. Go on.”

Harry glared at the man. “Anyway, now she won’t talk to me. Neither of them.”

“Since when do you care about what Natalie thinks?”

“She was Annie’s best friend. I think about her sometimes. Uh, I mean, I…whatever.” He couldn’t look his friend in the eye.

Cedric shook his head and laughed under his breath. “What’s wrong with Natalie or you, that you can’t admit you have a thing for the po’ woman?”

“What makes you think I have a thing for her?”

Cedric glared at him. “You.”

“Me? What are you talking about?” Harry picked lint off his pants.

“Never mind. So Grace…”

“Won’t except my calls.”

“Good. About time you stood on your own two feet. Got her so crazy, worrying about you all the time.”

“Worried about me?”

“Yeah, you. All them birthday celebrations for her dead mama. How would that not mess with her head? I’d been worried about you too, if I didn’t know what you was up to all these years.”

“Hmm…”

“Yeah, hmm.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Mikey

The doorbell to Ink Addiction chimed and Mikey inwardly groaned. He ducked behind the curtain toward the back of the shop. Through a gap he watched Detective Harry Hunter survey the parlor until he spotted the glass top counter and Mandy.

Her bright smile greeted him. “What can we help you with today?”

“Looking for Mikey Hardin. Is he here?”

Please don’t tell him I’m here.

“Yeah, he’s in the back.” She nodded in Mikey’s direction.

Dammit.

“Mike!” she shouted. Her feet padded toward him. “Mike…”

He came out of his hiding spot and nearly ran into her.

Her face flushed. “Oh…this guy is here to see—”

“I heard.”

Mandy returned to her post behind the counter as Hunter joined Mikey back by his work station, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Hardin, need to have a word with you.”

What now?

“All right.” He waved him over. “We’ll need to make this quick, got another tattoo to do in twenty minutes.”

“This won’t take long. I’ll come right out with it. Do you know a Chelsea Rand?” Hunter scrutinized Mikey’s face.

“No, can’t say I do. Is there a reason you’re asking about her?”

“She was found murdered.”

“Another one? Shit, when?”

Harry sipped his coffee, eyeing Mikey over the rim of the cup. “About a year ago.”

“And you think I had something to do with it?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “When is this nightmare going to end?” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?” Hunter asked.

“Nothing. When did you say she was killed?”

“A year ago. You didn’t know her?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Do you keep records of your customers?”

“Clients. Yes, but names only unless they pay with a credit card. Sometimes emails.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have the list handy or on a computer, would you?”

Mikey walked behind the curtain where he’d tried hiding from the detective. Hunter followed him.

He sat down at a glass top desk with chrome legs and began tapping on the laptop keyboard. He entered the name into the search function of the scheduling program. Chelsea Rand came up, along with her email address used for newsletters with the dates and times of all her appointments. Hunter leaned over his shoulder.

“How come I see her name?” the detective asked.

“I guess a Chelsea Rand did get a tat here, but I wasn’t the one who worked on her.” Mikey pointed next to the dates and times and at the name of the artist who did the actual tattoo. The last date entered for her was over a year old and Needles had worked on her then.

Harry stepped away from the desk. “Can you print that out?”

“No problem. I wouldn’t want to obstruct justice or anything.” They waited for the printer to warm up and spit out the list. Mikey handed the sheet of paper to Harry. “Tell me something, Detective, are you any closer to catching whoever killed those girls?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out.” Harry scanned the printed schedule. “Is this Eric who tattooed Chelsea around?”

“Yep. Needles,” Mikey called over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on Harry, “this detective wants to talk to you, man.”

Needles Ned was hunched over the drawing table against the back wall of the shop. He swiveled his stool and looked over. “Sure. No problem.” He stood and joined them by Mikey’s station.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. “This list says you worked on a Chelsea Rand on May fourteenth, two thousand and fifteen.”

Needles held his hand out for the paper. Harry handed it to him. “May have. I don’t remember the name.”

“Let me refresh your memory.” Harry showed Ned a photo from his phone.

Mikey looked at the picture too and didn’t recognize the girl at all. Ned closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to remember the girl.

Ned pursed his lips and shrugged. “Still don’t remember her.”

“Are you sure?” Harry persisted. “Says on that piece of paper you worked on her four different times within six months.”

“Don’t know what to tell ya, Detective. See a lot of faces and it’s been a year since she’s been in here.”

Harry sighed heavily and grabbed the list out of Ned’s hands. “Thanks for your help.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything else,” Mikey said. There was no tattoo to be done in twenty minutes; he’d lied to get rid of the cop quicker.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Harry said. “Are you sure you don’t remember her? Either of you?”

Mikey made an exasperated noise. “Yep.”

Ned grumbled and went back to the drawing table.

Harry eyed Mikey for a pregnant moment. “Do me a favor and call me if you remember anything.”

“Will do. Goodnight, Detective.”

Harry wandered toward the front exit, pausing to look at the wall of tattoo designs before deciding he’d seen enough and left the shop.

What the hell was that all about? Mikey had no idea someone named Chelsea Rand even existed. The girl in the photo didn’t look familiar at all. If she had been in there, Mikey must’ve been out or too busy with another client to notice. Not that he would have remembered her anyway.

He entered Chelsea Rand into the computer again and noted the dates and times then did a search using the dates for his activity, starting with the most recent.

“What the fuck?”

Cody Pollard. He’d been working on that asshole at the time the girl was in the shop. Mikey sat back in the chair. He tried to recall the day.

Shit.

Now he remembered; this was the first time Cody had been in Ink Addiction. He’d worn a green polo shirt and khaki pants, hardly the free-spirited type to get a tat. But when he’d pulled off his shirt, numerous designs were tattooed in random spots all over his torso, front and back. As Mikey worked on Cody’s latest ink, the guy sat so still, he had to wonder if the bastard had any nerve endings. He also didn’t make a sound.

Mikey fished his wallet out of his back pocket and threw Hunter’s business card on the desk. After he punched in the cell number, he paused. There were three things Mikey knew. Grace had been attacked by Cody. Hunter came in asking about a Chelsea Rand, a murder victim, and Cody had been in the same place at the same time as her. Was there a connection or was this merely a coincidence?

He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Maybe he should call the police station instead of bothering Hunter. On the other hand, Cody obviously was prone to violence. Fuck it. He hit the green circle on his iPhone to complete the call and was immediately sent to voice mail.

Mikey listened to the ridiculously long generic greeting then disconnected the call.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Harry

“Grace, please, when you get this message, call me. I only want to talk.” Harry hung up the phone before he started groveling again. He hated that his daughter was angry with him. Sure, it was his own fault, but two weeks had gone by and she still wasn’t taking his calls. He would have stopped over her apartment if Natalie hadn’t told him Grace was now staying at her new boyfriend’s house until Cody was apprehended.

Harry had been so desperate for company he went over to Natalie’s and apologized for being such a shit to her all these years. He actually felt relieved and they had the most open conversation they ever had with one another. They even shared a few laughs, although the whole time he wondered if she knew how he felt about her.

The walk down the hall to his bedroom seemed further than usual. Today had been tiring and he’d still had no luck in discovering Cody Pollard’s true identity. The video feed from the bank revealed only a blurry glimpse of the suspect, not even enough for the Feds to use their facial recognition software. Clever bastard knew how not to be seen. He remained behind Grace during the assault or had his back to the camera. His daughter fought him off better than he’d expected. Harry couldn’t have been prouder or more terrified in his life. The jolt to his heart as he watched the events unfold would be enough to make a defibrillator jealous.

Harry sat on the end of his bed, took his shoes off, then crawled up to the pillows and laid down. He didn’t bother with his clothes.

His phone rang somewhere in the distance as his eyes closed. He didn’t care. Tomorrow was Sunday, his only day off, and he was going to take full advantage of the day. And sleep.

***

SUNDAY

6:00 p.m.

The kitchen inside Cynthia Hardin’s home looked like it had never been used. Even in the dim light shining down from the cabinets above, he saw a thin layer of dust coating the countertops. The killer swiped his rubber gloved finger across the dark quartz countertop. He examined the dust stuck to the latex.

Silently, he walked from room to room using a flashlight he’d found in one of the drawers next to the refrigerator. He climbed the stairs and ignored the portraits leading up toward the bedrooms.

The first room on his left, with an open door, was decorated like a child’s room. ‘Brayden’ was painted on a wooden plaque hanging on the door handle by a curly wire. The killer scoffed quietly.

At the end of the hallway a closed door stood between him and Cynthia. He’d been in her house before, therefore, he knew this was the master bedroom. He wondered if the child’s father had ever lived in the house, not that he couldn’t have discovered this on his own, he simply hadn’t bothered with the meaningless detail.

He set his sledgehammer down on its head and used both hands to turn the knob. Although there was no real reason to open the door this way, it seemed logical to him. He slipped inside the room like a shadow, careful not to bang the hammer into anything. He approached the en suite bathroom. The shower was on.

Buzz. Buzz.

The killer turned his head to the sound of a cell vibrating on the glass topped night table. He picked up the Samsung Galaxy. The caller ID read, ‘Asshole’. Tapping ‘ignore’, he lifted up his disposable rain poncho to pocket the phone.

He slinked inside the bathroom. Cynthia was in the shower, her back turned to him. Water splashed the plastic shower curtain and the bottom of the tub. Steam fogged up the mirror above the sink.

The disposable poncho itched around his ears but he endured his discomfort in favor of not getting his clothes and hair all dirty. He slid the curtain over slowly. Cynthia turned and screamed. The killer shoved her back; she slipped on the soapy water standing in the tub, cracking her head on the tile behind her. With a moan she slumped to the bottom. Her eyes shut and opened again, the lids fluttering.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, a state of euphoria settling in.

“No. Oh my God. Help!” Cynthia tried to paw away from him. He gripped one of her ankles and wrenched her over the smooth lip of the tub and onto the floor. She grunted. A streak of blood ran down the inside of the shower. She rolled to her stomach and crawled away.

“Oh God…noooo!” Her voice sounded tiny.

Grabbing her by the back of the hair, the killer slammed her face first into the ceramic floor. Thick globs of blood gushed from her nose. She lay still, the fight gone.

The killer gripped the heavy mallet in both hands, mid-shaft. He sucked in a breath and swung the end of the sledgehammer above his head. The steel came down and met the back of Cynthia’s skull with a crack. Blood splattered all over the front of him. He didn’t flinch, only closed his eyes to keep his vision from being compromised. The woman didn’t make a sound. She never regained consciousness.

Steel hit the fractured bone again. More blood and bits of skull flew out from where the hammer connected. He swung again, this time the sound wasn’t of bone breaking but a sickening thud and a squish. The killer breathed hard, sweat dripping from his face. He stepped back with the hammer clutched in both hands.

With one arm he swiped at all of the clutter from around the sink. Perfume bottles, hairsprays, and Estee Lauder cosmetics clattered and lay broken on the floor.

He cranked the faucet on and ran the hammer under the flow starting at the head. Reddish water filled the sink. Using his palms, he rubbed the handle to dislodge stubborn globs of blood and brain bits. Most of the proof washed down the drain. He couldn’t do anything about trace evidence but he liked to keep his tool clean to the naked eye. His gloved hands, face, and neck were the next things he attended to. Once he was satisfied, he carefully drew the slicker over his head, balled it up, and tossed the poncho into the tub. Water pelted the plastic. Normally he would take everything he brought to a crime scene with him, but tonight he didn’t have the luxury. He’d made sure not to leave any fingerprints.

The phone vibrated in his back pocket. He read the front, ‘Asshole’. He shook his head. “She’s not taking any calls,” he said to himself and pressed “end” to stop the ringing.

Thirty seconds later, there was a chirp signaling a voice mail. The doorbell rang. He picked up his sledgehammer and exited the room, crept down the hall to another spare bedroom, and looked down on the front porch. Mikey and his son stood outside. The bell rang again. Cynthia’s ex-husband swore.

“Well, shit,” resounded up. “Looks like your mom’s not home, kid. What do you think? You wanna stay and wait in the car?”

“I dunno. She should be home.” The son shrugged.

The killer dialed 9-1-1.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Mikey

Brayden ran ahead of Mikey up the front porch steps of Cynthia’s colonial. They had already said their goodbyes in the car. She had given Mikey permission to keep Brayden until six o’clock. His son rang the doorbell. Usually his mother greeted him, opened the door just wide enough for Brayden to sneak in, and then slammed the door shut. Cynthia didn’t answer the door. Brayden shifted his weight from foot to foot and rang the bell again. Mikey looked at his son. More and more, Brayden seemed older than his ten years. “Well, shit. Looks like your mom’s not home, kid. What do you think? You wanna stay and wait in the car?”

“I dunno. She should be home.” Brayden shrugged and stared at the locked door. He knocked on the panel. “Mom!”

Mikey banged his fist on the door. They waited for a couple of minutes.

“I don’t think she’s home.” Mikey dialed her number but the call went straight to voicemail. “I think we should go and wait for your mom to call us back.”

“Okay. You’re the parent. I’m the kid, remember?”

Mikey chuckled. “You’re right, I say we go. Maybe you should try calling her first.”

Brayden searched the pockets of his backpack. “Crap, I forgot my phone in my room.”

“It’s all right. Call her again when we get home.”

They listened to satellite radio on the drive back to his house. Brayden had an ear for old country tunes. Mikey had no idea where he’d picked up the love from. Cynthia wasn’t all that interested in music and he preferred hip-hop. Go figure. A Patsy Cline song came on as they pulled in his driveway.

“Oh, I love this song.” Brayden said and turned up the radio. He sang a few bars. Mikey joined his son and turned off the engine.

“Aw, Dad.”

“Sorry, kid. I know I’m a buzzkill.”

Brayden crossed his arms. “Fine. Did Mom text back yet?”

Mikey shook his head. Cynthia usually didn’t flake out on him when it was time for Brayden to go home on Sunday nights. It was fine, though. He didn’t mind having his son for an extra night. They entered the house through the kitchen. Brayden sped past him to the refrigerator. “What are you getting?”

“Thirsty.” He held his mouth under the water container on the top shelf. He opened the spigot and swallowed several gulps of water.

“You know, you could use a glass.”

“Not that thirsty,” Brayden said and wiped his chin on his shirt.

“Go call your mom.”

“You’re both back. Is something wrong?” Grace asked from the kitchen doorway. Brayden rushed past her.

“She wasn’t home.”

“She did know you were coming, right?”

“Yeah.” Mikey scrunched up his face. “I’m a little worried. It’s not like her.” They moved to the dining area next to the living room.

Brayden came back from his bedroom. “She’s not answering her phone.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No. She always answers my calls.” Brayden’s shoulders sagged as he walked to the living room couch and sat down.

Shit.

Grace shut down her laptop at the dining table and wrapped the electrical cord around her large calculator all accountants seemed to use. Her hair had been pinned up on the top of her head. The tank top she wore revealed bare shoulders and accentuated her elegant neck. He wanted to kiss the column of her throat.

“Dad?” Brayden stood next to him. “Jeez, Dad, did Mom text you back yet?”

“Nope.” He smiled at his son, slightly embarrassed at how hard he’d stared at Grace. He checked his phone for the twentieth time since leaving Cynthia’s house. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was wrong.

Grace crossed her arms and grabbed her shoulders then rolled her head around.

“Sorry about this.” Mikey said.

“About what? It’s not your fault. I don’t mind. I’m just stiff from leaning over the computer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I told myself a while ago to step away from the computer.” Mikey massaged her shoulders. “Ahhh…that feels good. Thank you.”

“Gross.” Brayden crinkled his nose and returned to the living room couch with his phone up to his ear.

“You wanna watch a movie?”

“Yay! Can we?” Brayden set his phone down and looked over at Grace from the couch.

“Of course,” Grace said. “What movies do you like?” she asked wandering over and sitting on the opposite end of the sofa.

Grace seemed to like Brayden, but kept her distance. His son didn’t seem to notice. Yeah, right, the kid saw everything. “Bray, why don’t you pick what we’re going to watch?”

Brayden’s face lit up. He leaned forward and took the remote off the coffee table. He busied himself reading the on-demand film selections.

Mikey sat next to Grace and tucked her to his side. He put his arm around her. She snuggled closer. “Brayden likes you, you know,” he whispered into her ear.

“And I like him,” she whispered back.

Satisfied she didn’t hesitate, he slumped further down and put his feet up on the coffee table. She rested her head on his chest.

Brayden finally decided to watch Iron Man for the eight hundredth time. An hour and forty-five minutes into the movie his son passed out. Mikey looked at his watch. He still hadn’t heard from Cynthia so he picked up Brayden’s phone. No messages either. He huffed out a breath.

“You still haven’t heard from his mom?” Grace asked.

“Nope. I love having Bray here, but this is strange even for her, not to at least call.”

“Try calling again.”

He sent another text.

Call me when you get this!

“I’m going to put him to bed.” Mikey carried Brayden to his bedroom. Grace surprised him when she followed.

“He’s so cute when he’s asleep,” she said as he shut Brayden’s door.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uh huh.” She clasped his hand and led him back to the living room. They settled back on the couch into the same position as before.

“Do you want a kid of your own? Have you ever thought about it?”

She pursed her lips. “Hmm…yes, I’ve thought about it. I guess I figure I’d make a lousy parent. I was never one of those teenagers that babysat.”

Mikey laughed. “I never babysat either.”

“Yeah, but that’s different, you’re a guy.”

“So?”

“So, guys I knew didn’t babysit.”

He smiled. “Stereotype much?”

“Shut up. No. It’s totally true.”

“That is not true,” he said. “But kiss me and I’ll let you win the argument.”

She laughed and leaned into a kiss. Her lips parted and he snaked his tongue around hers.

The passion between them quickly built. Mikey pulled at the hem of her shirt. “We should…take this…to the bed…room.” With their lips locked they walked toward his room, passing by the front door.

The doorbell rang. A stab of dread poked his gut.

Shit. Now she shows up?

The bell rang again. “Just a sec!” Without looking out the side window, Mikey opened the door with Grace’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind. “Detective, what are you doing here?”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Mikey

When Mikey swung his front door open, Grace looked around him. “Dad?” her breath caught in the back of her throat and she swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”

“Grace?”

Mikey choked on his saliva. “You two know each other?”

“You could fucking say that,” Harry barked. “Grace, get your things, we’re leaving. Right. Now.” The two officers flanking the detective looked at each other. Mikey saw Hunter’s ugly Buick and a police cruiser parked outside at the curb.

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere. This is my boyfriend.”

“What’s going on, Hunter?” Mikey kept a protective arm around Grace’s waist. “You’re here for a reason?”

God, what did Cynthia do now?

“Your ex-wife’s dead. Murdered,” Harry snapped.

Mikey’s knees weakened and the blood ran out of his head. “I’m sorry,” he shook his head, “did you say my ex-wife Cynthia’s…dead?”

“You heard correctly.” Hunter’s tone evened out. “Can you account for your whereabouts tonight?”

Grace put herself between Mikey and her father. “He’s been here with me.” Mikey reached a shaky hand out and placed it on her shoulder. She grasped his fingers with both hands.

“Y-yeah. I’ve…I’ve been with my son and Grace all day. I went to take my son home around six o’clock, to…to her house, but Cynthia didn’t answer the door. I thought she wasn’t home. I left a message on her voice mail then we came back to my house.” He swallowed the rising bile in the back of his throat; licked his lips.

The detective glared at the hand Mikey had on her shoulder. “Grace, go get in my car and lock the door, we need to speak to Mikey Hardin alone.”

“No.”

Harry’s face turned red under the porch light. “Grace.”

“What? You can’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult.”

“Yes, I can. I’m your father. And I said let’s go.”

Grace remained where she stood, holding Mikey’s hand. She glowered at her father.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” Mikey asked, keeping the smugness off his face; the whole time he’d been seeing Grace her father had been harassing him.

Ha!

Hunter didn’t respond for a minute, and instead gaped at them. Mikey wondered if the man was thinking the same thing as him.

“Detective?”

“Yeah?” Harry swayed ever so slightly. He covered his mouth with a hand and burped. “Excuse me.”

“You all right?” Mikey asked, one eyebrow rising.

“I’m fine,” the detective said through clenched teeth.

“What happened?” Grace asked.

Harry sighed heavily when he looked at his daughter. “Have you really been with this guy all day?”

“Yeah. We’ve been seeing each and I’ve been staying with him until Cody’s apprehended.”

“Listen, Grace, I don’t want you staying here, all right?” Her father tried to pull her away from Mikey.

“No, Dad, what are you doing? Stop!” She wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

“Hey hey,” Mikey interjected. “I don’t care who you are to her, don’t touch her like that.” Of all the women he could have met, dated, fallen for, he chose the one person Harry Hunter was related to. Surprisingly, the revelation didn’t make him desire her any less. He still wanted to be with her, no matter who her father was.

“You don’t want to mess with me right now,” Harry warned.

Grace threw her hands up. “I’m not staying with you…you’re crazy. Leave. Go.”

“Gracie…”

“Nope. Leave.”

Harry protested and she held up her hand to stop him. “You informed him, he has a solid alibi, and I know what his rights are. So unless you’re going to arrest him, you can leave. If you have more questions, I’m sure he’ll come down tomorrow and talk to you. Goodnight.”

Mikey wasn’t sure she was correct but Hunter grumbled and the three cops left. Grace stood with her hands on her hips in the doorway until the cars pulled away then shut the door. She led him back to the couch. He sat with his face in his palms.

“He probably wants you safe…” His words lost their forward momentum. How was he going to tell Brayden his mother was dead?

Oh God.

He thought about all the people he needed to notify. Would the police tell her mother or did he need to call her? Thoughts rushed through his brain so fast, nothing made sense anymore. Was Cynthia really dead or was he dreaming? He took an unsteady breath. Cold sweat dampened the back of his shirt. This was nuts.

Grace sat down next to him. She rubbed circles on his back.

Mikey reached for his cell phone. His hands trembled as he looked up his ex-mother-in-law’s number. Holding his phone up to his ear required two hands. Marie answered the call on the third ring.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded rushed.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He adjusted the phone several times. “M-Marie…this is Mikey.”

“Oh my God…” Her voice wavered as she sobbed, “Is Brandon all right?”

“Brayden.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “So you heard?”

“Never mind that, is my grandson okay?”

“Yes. He’s with me at my house, still sleeping. I haven’t t-told him yet.” Mikey began to cry for his son’s loss. Tears for Cynthia had long ago dried up.

“I assumed he was with you.”

“I’m so sorry about Cynthia. We didn’t get along, but I would never wish this on anyone.”

“Thank you and I know that. Like you, we hadn’t spoken much lately. Oh God…”

Marie babbled on about how she wished she lived closer and wished she and her daughter had a better relationship. She blamed their estrangement on Cynthia’s lack of a father figure growing up. And oh, how she loved her daughter the best she could but she was never satisfied. The woman’s guilt was palpable through the phone. He’d heard this all before.

“I’ll be flying in to make funeral arrangements tomorrow,” she said.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. I’ll call you when I get into town. I would like you to help with the arrangements, for Brayden’s sake.”

“All right.” The line went dead before he had a chance to say goodbye. He hoped the woman didn’t think he was going to pay for anything. He was willing to go with her, but that was all.

“She wants me to go with her to make the funeral arrangements,” he told Grace after putting the phone down.

Grace looked doubtful. “She didn’t sound too broken up about her daughter being…”

“Yeah, well, that’s Marie. They weren’t close. Especially in the last few years.”

Mikey placed a call to Brad and Andrea, and they were on their way over.

The doorbell rang fifteen minutes later. Expecting to see his best friends on the other side of the door, he swung it open without checking who was on his front porch. Again, two uniformed cops greeted him.

Shit.

His heart sank further.

“Are you Mr. Hardin?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, uh, Detective Hunter told us to pick up his daughter. She needed a ride home.” The officer shrugged ever so slightly. Grace snaked around the front of Mikey and she set her chin.

“Oh, no. Officer…Rudy, is it? You can call Detective Hunter and tell him I’m not going anywhere.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If my Dad wants to see me, he can make an appointment. I’m available Thursday at never o’clock.”

Mikey stifled a chuckle.

“Harry said—”

“I don’t care what Harry said. I’m an adult and I make my own decisions. Good night.”

“Grace maybe you should go with them,” Mikey suggested. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with the police on his doorstep.

Brayden walked into the room rubbing his eyes. “Dad? What’s going on?” Mikey turned around. “Are you being arrested?”

Mikey glanced at the ceiling and exhaled loudly. “No, Bray.” He reached for his son, holding him tightly.

“The cops were just leaving, sweetie,” Grace said, glowering at the uniformed men. She slammed the door in their faces.

“I’m scared,” Brayden said.

Me too.

Mikey ushered him over to the sofa and knelt in down in front of his son. He squeezed his eye shut. “Bray, there’s something I need to tell you.” A tear rolled down his cheek. Brayden sat statue-still. “Your mother…” shit, “…your mother passed away tonight.”

Brayden looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your mom is gone. I’m sorry.”

Mikey wanted to scream.

“You mean s-she’s dead?” His bottom lip quivered and his chin wrinkled.

Mikey’s phone rang and he ignored it.

“Yeah…I’m so sorry Brayden.”

His son scooted forward on the couch and grabbed him around the neck. Mikey looked over to see his girlfriend crying too. No one had heard the front door open. Brad and Andrea held hands under the archway that led into the living room off the front hallway. Grace greeted each of them with a hug.

“How did she die?” Brayden asked.

Mikey realized now that he hadn’t asked Hunter any specific questions. He only told him she’d been murdered. “Not sure, buddy. But I don’t think she suffered.” A pang of guilt hit him in the chest. There was no way he thought this was the truth.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Grace

After hours of crying, Brayden finally exhausted himself enough to fall asleep. He lay on the couch and Grace watched his little chest rise and fall with each breath. Tear tracks lined his cheeks and looking at him made her eyes shiny. Mikey covered Brayden’s legs with a throw blanket. She didn’t think anything could wake Brayden now.

Grace settled into the oversized chair across from the couch. Brad and Andrea sat at the dining table engaged in a whispered conversation with one another. Mikey sat on the sofa at his son’s feet.

“Are you all right?” Grace asked. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“So, um, my father is—”

“It’s okay, Grace. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

Thank God.

Her dad could be so pushy when it came to her, although his reaction this time was a little odd even for him. Even stranger, how did Mikey know her father’s name? And if they knew each other, why hadn’t her boyfriend mentioned anything?

“How do you know my dad?”

Mikey shrugged. “We’ve met a few times, but I wouldn’t say I know him. I certainly didn’t know you were his daughter.”

“Oh. He never mentioned it, ever?”

Mikey rubbed his face with his hands. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”

She wondered if he purposefully ignored the question. Not that she blamed him, the news that Cynthia was gone for good had to be overwhelming even if they hadn’t gotten along. Her question was a topic for another time.

Brad cleared his throat. “Hey, anyone interested in having breakfast? I might know a chef that can whip something up.”

“What time is it?” Mikey asked, yawning.

“Almost six o’clock,” Andrea announced.

“Shit. Yeah, there’s eggs and stuff to make a couple of omelets or something in the fridge,” he told Brad. He stood up and looked at Grace with a lopsided grin, holding a hand out to her. “Hungry?”

“I guess. What about Bray, should we wake him?”

“I wanna let him sleep. He’ll be fine.”

Grace placed her hand in Mikey’s and they walked into the kitchen where Brad was already destroying the place and making way too much noise.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Grace

On Tuesday morning, Grace forced herself to leave Mikey and Brayden’s side to go to work. She finished the last of her extended deadline returns and looked at the clock on her office wall.

When her father poked his head around the door jamb she glared at him. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk.” Harry held his palms up. He came in and closed the door behind him. She leaned back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest. “I think you need—”

“Nice. Don’t bother asking me how my boyfriend is doing or anything.”

“I won’t. Grace, this guy is bad news.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know him.”

“I do too. I’ve interviewed him a few times.”

“Interviewed him? For what?”

“Figures he didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Mikey Hardin is a suspect in the murder of those women. Or he was until Sunday.”

She placed her hands on the top of her desk. “What are you—what?”

Her father paced the floor then stopped at a photograph sitting on a file cabinet of Grace and her mom taken on the beach two months before she died. He picked up the frame. “Your hair is the same color as your mother’s.”

“Dad, please.”

“He knew the victims, or had contact with them.”

Grace listened to her father with her mouth hung open.

“I know you like this guy, Gracie, but I’m not sure he’s the one. Obviously he’s lied to you.”

“You think he killed them?” Her stomach churned.

Harry set the picture back down and turned toward her. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Yes it does.”

“I’m not sure of anything. But…” he sighed, “my gut says no. However, smoke often leads to fire, and alarms are going off in my head.”

Grace wanted to bang her head on her desk. She had let herself care for Mikey. She even liked his son, and she didn’t really feel comfortable around children. “This is just great.”

Harry stared at her. “I’m sorry. I want you to be safe and I’m afraid if you keep hanging around him you’ll end up dead. We still haven’t caught this guy.”

“Do you think the perp is the same guy that attacked me?”

Harry’s silence answered her question. She sat quietly and stared at the stack of papers on her desk. When her father sighed, her eyes flipped up to his.

“I only want what’s best for you. I can’t lose you. If he’s lied about something as big as this, what else has he not told you the truth about? Do you want that kind of drama in your life?”

Grace refused to cry in front of her dad. Her head ached. “Please leave. I want to be alone.”

“Just think about it. I love you, Gracie.”

Her tears stung her eyes. Thankfully, her father left her office before she cried. He paused outside the doorway, cursed softly, and then disappeared down the hall.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Mikey

Cynthia’s body had been taken to Rose and Son’s Funeral Home. Marie sat next to Mikey in the funeral director’s office. The first twenty minutes his ex-mother-in-law blubbered to Daryl Rose, Jr. about how good a mother her daughter had been and how she wanted Cynthia remembered for her selfless nurturing. Mikey clenched his jaw during the whole nauseating load of crap. Mr. Rose suggested she speak with their grief counselor before leaving. Instantly and miraculously her tears dried up.

The director placed a color brochure on the end of the desk open to the caskets they had available. “This model is our most popular. I think you’ll find the price point reasonable.”

Marie scanned the standard features. “Hmm…I’d like this one, in the burgundy.”

“You have fine taste. We always have this particular model on-site. It’s on display in our showroom.”

Mr. Rose stood. “If you’ll step right this way, you can have a look.”

Mikey took a deep breath and followed after Marie with Daryl at the head. The showroom consisted of five pine boxes. Mr. Rose explained the differences in each one and the features. Two were mahogany, one plastic, and one was covered with a thin metal. Mikey thought the man said brass but he couldn’t be certain. The one Marie eyed was made of fiberglass in a light shiny burgundy. The inside was lined with pink satin.

Marie placed her hand on top of the casket. “What did you say the price point was?”

Rose stroked his silk tie. “Four thousand.”

Mikey nearly choked to death on his own tongue.

Oh, is that all?

“Is this the floor model price?” Marie asked without a hint apprehension, like she was questioning a used car salesman.

“I’m sorry?” The mortician furrowed his brow. “Floor model?”

“Yes. If the casket is a demo, I should receive a discount.”

Mikey shook his head. Marie was actually trying to haggle the price down.

The undertaker cleared his throat. “Our prices are very reasonable, Ms. Dove.”

“Yes. I know, you said. But—”

“The prices are not negotiable.” He sounded well practiced in his response.

“Oh nonsense, everything is negotiable, Mr. Rose.”

“I’m afraid not in this case. Perhaps, I can interest you in this one over here?” He stepped to the gray coffin with the plastic sheathing. “This one is priced at two thousand five hundred.”

Marie had the look of someone deep in thought. “Hmm…how much are these other two?”

Mr. Rose smoothed his tie again. “The mahogany is nine thousand and the brass trimmed is five. Thousand.”

“I’ll take the gray.”

“Good choice. We have a few more things to discuss and you can be on your way,” Mr. Rose said.

They were once again led back to the man’s office. Marie explained she wanted a pink rose arrangement laid over the coffin during the funeral. A small bouquet of Cynthia’s favorite flower, the peace lily, was chosen for Brayden to place inside the casket. Mikey’s intestines knotted up. At one point he reached for the brass trash can beside the desk but kept his lunch down.

“Just to confirm, the funeral will start at one, directly following the viewing that begins at ten, this Friday morning,” Mr. Rose said.

Mikey shook hands with him. Marie did not.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Mikey

After dropping off Marie at the hotel, Mikey drove over to see Grace at work. He looked at himself in the visor mirror. His eyes were red-rimmed and baggy underneath.

She frowned when he sat down in the chair across from her desk.

“I look that bad, huh?”

Grace didn’t smile. Something was wrong; he felt the tension between them.

He tilted his head back to look at the drop ceiling for a moment. “I take it you spoke to your dad?”

“No.” She sighed. “Yes. I—why did you lie to me?”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you before, but, shit…what was I supposed to say? F-Y-I, I’m a murder suspect. I didn’t do anything but you have to trust me. Yeah, right, like you would’ve believed me.”

“I might have. Now we’ll never know.” She got up from her desk and headed for the door.

Mikey face-palmed.

Breathe.

He thought he heard a vacuum as all the air was sucked out of the room. His ass stayed glued to the chair. There was a high probability that his legs wouldn’t support his weight if he tried to stand. He’d only come here because he couldn’t wait until later to see her. Now this would be the last time. He smoothed his hair back with both hands. Cynthia was no doubt laughing at his pain wherever she was spending her afterlife.

Grace’s hand was on the doorknob. “I want you to leave.” Her voice broke on the last word. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He wanted to wipe them away.

“Grace—”

“No, don’t. Don’t tell me you’re sorry, don’t tell me you’re innocent, and don’t tell me you care, just don’t.”

Mikey respected her wishes. He kept his head down to avoid her eyes as he approached the door. She made a sweeping motion with her hand and flattened herself against the door like he had the plague, her head turned to the side. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more; her ending things or her physical reaction.

He passed through the door and out of her life without saying a word.

Mikey punched his way out of Grace’s office building. The stifling, breezeless summer air hit his face, adding to his slow suffocation. He didn’t remember the ride home. Brayden had waited on the porch for him. Andrea stood behind him in the lee of the front screen door.

“Dad, when is Grace coming home? She promised to help me with something.”

Mikey knew Brayden wouldn’t accept anything but the truth on this. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“What’d ya mean? Like never?” The hurt expression on Brayden face cut him to the core.

“I’m so sorry, Dad screwed up.”

Brayden burst into tears and ran down the sidewalk. Andrea stepped outside. “Better go after him,” she told Mikey, but he was already on his way.

“Brayden…stop!” Man, his son could run fast. “Where are you going?” Panting, Mikey quickly became winded with the little amount of energy he had left. Brayden slowed then stopped six houses down from where Mikey was doubled over.

Mikey swallowed and gasped. He waved his son back. Brayden looked around like he was deciding what the better option would be then came toward him.

He took Brayden’s hand and knelt in front of him. A snot bubble inflated and deflated with every breath. Brayden wiped his nose on his arm.

He searched his son’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to pretend to know how you feel.”

His son nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m going to hug you now, if that’s all right with you.”

“Yeah,” he said, sniffling.

Mikey scooped Brayden up. They held onto to each other sobbing on the sidewalk. Several neighbors looked out their windows, including Davis. Mikey set him down and started back home.

“Sorry, I ran,” Brayden said.

“I understand.” He put his arm around Brayden.

“What happened with Grace?” Brayden asked tentatively. “I really like her.”

“I know. Me too.” He rubbed one of his temples.

“Can’t you apologize or something?”

“I wish it were that simple. I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me.”

“So you didn’t say you were sorry then?”

“I did, but it’s not enough.”

Brayden glanced up at him. “What did you do?”

Mikey took a deep breath. “I lied to her.”

“That was dumb. Why? About what?”

“It’s complicated. Adult stuff.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “don’t tell me. When will I be old enough for complicated?”

Never.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Grace

The drive to her dad’s house made Grace feel like a child. She meant to pull into his driveway. Instead she found herself parked next Natalie’s Jeep across the street. Music blared out of the side kitchen door. The words rang inside her head, something about following your heart or some nonsense. Yeah, she’d tried that.

Grace banged on the metal screen door and looked inside. Natalie was mopping the floor. Her mother’s best friend looked up and smiled. She waved her inside then leaned over and turned Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” down.

“Hi,” Natalie said.

“Hey. You think I could stay here a while? Just until my apartment is safe to return to.”

“Of course. You are always welcome.”

“Thanks.” Grace plopped down on the stool parked in front of the kitchen island, her body practically melting.

“Uh oh, what happened?” Natalie put the mop in the bucket. “Come here.” She patted her shoulder.

Grace edged off the stool and went to Natalie. Tears formed in her eyes and she heaved with a sob.

“Oh, honey, tell me what happened.” Natalie embraced her.

“Mikey lied to me. He’s a suspect in those murdered girls cases. Oh, Natalie!”

The woman’s back stiffened. “What? Your father doesn’t think he’s guilty, does he?”

“No. Well, he did, but after his ex-wife was murdered and he was with me the whole time or with his son, the police don’t think it’s him anymore.”

Natalie broke the hug and Grace stepped backward.

“So he lied about being a murder suspect? Do you blame him?” She searched Grace’s eyes.

“That’s not the point. If he lied about this, what else is he hiding?”

“Did you ask him?”

“No. I told him to leave my office. And besides, how would I know if he was telling me the truth anyway?”

“I dunno, but I know one thing, you were a lot happier than I’d seen you in a long time. I know it was because of Mikey.”

“But God, even if he is completely innocent, there is so much drama in his life. How is there room for me and…” Mikey was a full-time father now. She wasn’t going to pretend she was ready for step-parenting or step-girlfriending now.

Crap.

Brayden. She’d promised to help him figure out a way to honor his mother other than a grave marker. Grace put her hands over her mouth.

“What is it, Grace?”

“I just remembered I promised to help Brayden with something.” She cursed under her breath.

Natalie leaned a hip against the kitchen center island. “With what?”

“He wanted to honor his mother in some special way. We talked about it, only the two of us.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet.” Natalie’s eyes welled with tears.

“Shit. Now you’re making me cry all over again. I’m such an asshole. If I don’t help, I’m completely selfish for disappointing a child in the wake of his mother’s murder, aren’t I?” Grace leaned her arms on the counter in front of her and buried her face in the crook of her elbow.

“A little bit. But I think he’ll understand.” Natalie put a hand on Grace’s forearm.

“Will he?”

CHAPTER FIFTY

Mikey

The open road always cleared Mikey’s head. He’d left Brayden with Andrea for a few hours. The engine of his Harley roared while he revved the throttle. Trees whipped past him at an alarming speed.

The last of the sun dipped below the horizon and Mikey turned his bike back toward the city. He’d intended on heading in the direction of his house. He’d meant to leave Grace alone. Instead he rode past his neighborhood and right into the parking lot of her apartment building.

What am I doing here?

Cody was still out there. She wouldn’t be staying at her place yet.

He brought the motorcycle to a stop in the circular drive in front of the building and put his feet down on the pavement. A red carpet lined the wide path to the entrance, which sat under a red awning. He lifted his eyes to the brass accented revolving doors. The doorman’s brows rose in recognition and he approached Mikey.

“Can I help you?”

“No…unfortunately you can’t.”

“Women,” the other man said with a nod and stepped backward. Mikey rolled away from the curb.

Back on the street, he tried to think of Natalie’s last name. Grace had introduced them several times and the first time she’d said the woman’s full name.

Mc something…McCormick? McGregor, that’s it.

Mikey pulled into a gas station and took out his phone. He dialed information. Only one Natalie McGregor lived in the area.

Natalie’s porch light shone brightly in an otherwise dark neighborhood. He cut the engine and coasted up the driveway. This wasn’t the smartest idea Mikey ever had. Grace had made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him. Plus, he was guessing this was where Grace was hiding out.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered.

Mikey started to back down the driveway when the garage door trundled up and Grace walked out. Their eyes met and they both froze. He wanted to call out her name. She looked soft in the glow from the garage.

“Mikey,” Grace whispered. “What are you doing here?” She looked around then across the street.

“I…I’m leaving—”

“How did you find me?”

“She’s listed.” He jerked his head in the direction of the house. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll…I’ll go.” He stood to start the bike.

“No, wait.”

He paused and looked at her. Her lips were a thin line. She didn’t say anything more so he got his bike going and sped away as thunderously as possible. Harleys were great noisemakers, thank God. He wanted to make a statement.

Brayden opened the door to the garage as Mikey switched the engine off. His son smiled—another reason to be thankful.

“Hey, Dad,” Brayden said, yawning.

Mikey dismounted his Harley. “Hi. Getting kind of late, don’t you think?”

“I’m not tired and I’ve been waiting to play that game on your phone. You promised me I could play it when you got home.”

“Where’s your phone?” Mikey asked, reaching in the pocket of his leather jacket.

“I don’t have that game on mine.”

Mikey sighed. “Here you go.” He handed his cell to Brayden; he couldn’t say ‘no’ to him this week.

The younger Hardin’s face lit up. Mikey followed him into the house. Brayden went straight to his room.

“I want that back in a half hour,” he called to his son.

“Okay. It won’t take long.” His bedroom door swung shut.

He plopped down on the couch.

Andrea looked up from the book she was reading. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I guess.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do? My life is falling apart.”

“Why is your life falling apart? I thought you’d be happy.” She changed her course when he raised his eyebrows. “I mean, not about Brayden losing his mother, that’s horrible, but about having more time with him. Not having to worry about losing him or sending him back to his mother.”

Mikey kicked his boots off. “Yep…it’s fantastic. Who’s going to watch him while I’m working? During school, that’s not as big an issue, but right now…and Grace dumped my ass. Although I deserved it.”

“I can help you out with Bray until you can make other arrangements. Believe me, I don’t mind. I wanted to cut back my hours at Cocoa anyway.” Andrea earmarked the page she was reading and tossed her book on the coffee table. He eyed the cover. Pictured on the front was a musclebound man in a kilt and a woman with a loose bodice and waves of dark hair. “What’s this about Grace?”

“I lied to her.”

Andrea settled back in the chair. “About?”

“Brad didn’t tell you?”

“He told me some things. Said you were arrested in connection with those murdered women.” She chuckled. “Gimme a break, as if you’d kill anyone.”

“Cynthia told the police I might have something to do with it. Both murders.”

“Are you moonlighting?”

“Not me, but someone is.”

Andrea laughed, although it wasn’t that funny.

“To be honest, I’m starting to get a lot worried. Like, who in my life is next?”

She leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“I knew the victims. Oh, God. This is the worse fucking—God.”

“Who was the guy who attacked Grace? You think he had anything to do with the murders?”

“Shit. Yeah, it’s got to be him, but no one can find the guy.” He needed to make a phone call. “Brayden! I need to use my phone. Bring it here.” His son’s bedroom door creaked open and footsteps shuffled over the carpet.

Brayden sidled up to the couch and handed Mikey his phone then slunk away.

Mikey scrolled through the recent calls. “Bray…shit.” He brought up Hunter’s number. The call went directly to voice mail. He skipped any pretenses when he left a message. “Wanted to give you an update about the day, uh, Chelsea Rand was at my shop you asked about. Cody Pollard was also there that day. Thought there may be a connection or something. I dunno. Wanna help.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Mikey

On the morning of Cynthia’s funeral, Mikey overslept. Father and son stayed up way past the point of exhaustion. Brayden had decided he needed to get all his crying done beforehand. The alarm clock had been set, but he’d hit snooze half a dozen times. At 9:35 AM, Marie called as Mikey emerged from the shower.

“Hello, Marie, sorry, I—”

“Where are you? You were supposed to pick me up twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m running late. I’ll be there.”

She sighed. “You know I wanted to get to the funeral home early before all the people got there.”

What other people?

The obituary had only run in the previous day’s paper and he doubted there’d be a lot of attendees.

“I apologize. Brayden had a bad night.”

“Aw—just get here.” The woman, in fact, may have a soft spot for her grandchild only, though not her dead daughter. This was evident in the purchasing of the cheaper coffin. Marie Dove could certainly afford the more expensive casket.

“I’ll be there as quickly as I—”

Click.

Mikey held the phone away from his ear and continued to talk at it. “It’s only a couple minutes from the hotel.” He tossed his iPhone onto his bed. The suit he put on was the only one he owned and was purchased for the last funeral he attended, three years ago.

Brayden knocked on the door.

“Hold on a minute. Did you put on the clothes I laid out for you?”

“Uh huh. We have to go. Grandma’s probably already waiting for us.” The door creaked open and Brayden shuffled into the bedroom. He rubbed his puffy eyes.

Mikey observed his son’s posture. The usual energy level Brayden displayed was absent. “Ready?”

“I guess,” Brayden said, wrapping his arms around his father’s waist. Mikey squeezed him back.

“Let’s go.”

Get this over with.

Mikey’s left knee bounced the entire ride over to Marie’s hotel. She was standing with her hands on her hips in the Embassy Suites lobby when they arrived. Although, she was shorter than him, she was still able to look down her nose at him by raising her chin. Her dyed hair and makeup were flawlessly done. For a woman in her sixties, Marie still had a youthful appearance from a distance. Up close…not so much.

“About time. I can’t believe you’re making us late to my own daughter’s funeral,” Marie said loud enough for several other hotel guests to hear.

Mikey wanted to hide. Sweat rolled down his temple. His face flushed. “Let’s get going then,” he muttered. God, he dreaded today.

They settled in the car. On the short ride, Brayden remained quiet and stared out the window. Marie made a point not to keep silent.

“How long does it take to get there?”

“The same amount of time it did Tuesday morning.”

Marie covered her chest with her hand. “Well, excuse me, you don’t have to be smart.”

Mikey glanced at her. “I wasn’t.” He was. The light turned red ahead of them and he stopped short. He checked on Brayden in the rear view mirror. His son jerked forward, but still continued looking out the window.

“Have you written the eulogy?” She fanned herself even though the A/C blasted cold air.

Eulogy? Are you out of your mind?

“I’m sorry?”

Marie sighed. “For Brandon’s sake.”

“Brayden. And no, I didn’t write a eulogy.”

“You prepared nothing? You should have prepared something.”

“Why didn’t you?” He flipped on his turn signal.

“Well, I’m her mother.” Her well-I-never tone suggested she thought what he said was outrageous.

“All the more reason. You were closer to her than me. We were divorced, remember?”

“You could still say a few nice things about her.”

I could, but they’d be lies.

He exhaled through his nose. “Marie, it’s best I don’t.”

Mikey made the final turn into the Rose and Son’s Funeral Home parking lot at five minutes to ten. Five cars were parked, one of which was the hearse.

“Did they run the obituary? They must not have put it in the paper. I’ll have to have a word with Mr. Rose. There should be more people here. Don’t you think?” Marie said.

“It ran,” he told her. “It’s not quite ten and not everyone comes to the viewing.” Mikey got out of the car, went around, and held Brayden’s hand.

Inside the mortuary, there proved to be even fewer guests than the five cars suggested. Even Mikey felt badly about the low turnout. Cynthia hadn’t remarried and her family all lived out of state. Why in the world would Marie be surprised so few people were there? She should be happy anyone showed up at all. He considered ducking into the restroom to call Brad and Andrea and bribing them to come.

His eyes went round as plates when he saw the open casket at the other end of the room. He’d been told Cynthia’s head had been bashed on the tile in her bathroom. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

Brayden tugged on his jacket. “Dad…can we go up…there? I wanna see her.”

God. No.

“Sure, but why are you whispering?”

“I thought I was supposed to.”

“You can talk in a normal voice,” Mikey told him as they walked toward the casket. The march up the aisle was the longest trek of his life. Only a few rows of chairs lined either side of the aisle. A couple of wooden chairs clattered together when he tripped over his own feet and nearly fell. Brayden gaped at him.

“I’m all right.”

Next to the casket on a pedestal lay the peace lily bouquet for Brayden to put inside the coffin. The arrangement of pink roses Marie had insisted on covered almost the entire half of the gray box. A wreath with a banner that read, ‘Mother’, sat on an easel to the right.

Mikey looked everywhere he could except at Cynthia. However, Brayden gripped the lip of the coffin and peered at his mother.

“Are you sure this is Mom? This doesn’t look like Mom.”

The question forced Mikey to look at her. He could only take quick glances at the body. Brayden was right. Cynthia had looked better, and not because she was dead either. Her head seemed to be resting too low and the pillow had been fluffed in a bid to raise it. Heavy makeup was slathered on her face, likely to cover bruising. Great effort and care had gone into concealing a gash on her forehead, but the skin was split, making the attempt futile.

“What happened to her head? And why does she have so much makeup on?” Brayden asked.

“I’m not sure. Sometimes people don’t look the same when they’re dead. The funeral home does the best they can.”

“Well, they didn’t do a very good job.”

The voices of several new arrivals carried from the back of the room. Mikey took the opportunity to focus his eyes someplace other than his ex-wife’s dead body. He recognized a few of Cynthia’s friends and their husbands and a couple of people he didn’t know. They were likely co-workers since they appeared to be dressed more for an office than a funeral.

“Dad, do you think Mom died because you got divorced?”

Mikey glanced down at his son, who still stared at his mother. “Divorces don’t cause people to die.”

“I know that. I meant if you were together, would she have died?” Brayden removed his hands from the coffin and stepped backward.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Brayden took a deep breath. “If you were at home with her, maybe she wouldn’t have been murdered.”

“What? Where did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He glanced up.

“That your mother was murdered?” The last word came out as a whisper.

“Grace told me—oh, I shouldn’t have—she let it slip. She didn’t mean to tell me.”

Terrific.

He’d planned to tell his son what happened eventually; he didn’t want him getting scared.

Mikey ran his hands through his hair. “When did you talk to her?”

“I didn’t…” his son looked away, “it was before…”

He cocked his head to the side. “Brayden? Tell me the truth. When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“I didn’t call her, honest.”

“I know you’re lying.”

“I know. Sorry. Are you mad?”

The worry in his son’s eyes broke his heart and he melted. Mikey tilted his head back and sighed. “No.” He’d be angry if everything wasn’t so depressing; his son’s mother had died, Grace left him, and Cynthia’s mother was more concerned about the cost of the funeral than her daughter’s murder. Not once had the woman mentioned the subject.

He heard Marie squawk from the back of the room but ignored her. Mikey wanted this time alone with his son.

“Bray, see the flowers on the little table over there?” He pointed at the peace lilies. “Those are for you to place next to your mom. They were her favorite.”

Brayden retrieved the bouquet. “You remembered. I thought you forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

Shit.

“No, I remember, Mom’s wedding bouquet had peace lilies.”

Brayden smiled. “Uh huh. Can I put them next to her now?”

“You can do anything you want.”

His son’s face brightened.

“Let me clarify, most anything. At least today,” Mikey told him. He sensed Marie lurking nearby.

Brayden edged closer to the body with his father shadowing him. “Where should I put them, Dad?”

Mikey dared a glance into the coffin. “I think—”

“Her hands. We could put them in her hands.” Brayden looked up at Mikey, hopeful.

“I don’t know. I don’t think we can—”

“We can do that,” Mr. Rose chimed in from behind them. Brayden smiled despite his red-rimmed eyes. Mikey flattened his lips into a thin line. His son’s face startled him. He’d failed to notice his son had been crying. He felt like a selfish ass.

Mr. Rose asked them to step back while he pulled a gold velvet drape around the casket. “This should only take a few minutes,” he said discreetly.

Mikey pivoted and found Marie speaking in hushed tones to Detective Harry Hunter. What was he doing here? Harry nodded at him; Mikey shook his head and rolled his eyes. He thought about going over and asking him if he was proud of himself, however, that wouldn’t accomplish anything and was beyond inappropriate. He decided to insult him in another way and ambled over.

“You could’ve bought a new suit.”

Harry looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with my suit?”

Marie gave Mikey a dirty look. Brayden looked back and forth from his father to the detective.

“What are you doing here, Detective?”

“Paying my respects to the family.”

“All right. In some small way I appreciate that. Even if you do have an ulterior motive.”

Harry chuckled low in the back of his throat. “Can I speak to you privately for a moment? I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“Sure why not? I’m not doing anything right now. Nothing at all.” Mikey motioned out in the hallway back toward the restrooms.

The detective spoke quietly and without sincerity, “Sorry for your loss.”

Mikey closed and opened his eyes like a dragon, slowly. “Let’s skip the bullshit pretenses. What do you want?”

“Got your message.” Hunter took out a tiny black notebook with a half-size pen attached to the side.

“And this couldn’t wait till after, oh I don’t know, the funeral?”

Harry got ready to ask a question when Brayden walked up behind him.

“Bray, this is a private conversation.”

“Who are you?” his son asked Hunter.

“My name’s Harry—”

“Harry is Grace’s father.” Mikey got a gleam in his eye as an idea hit him.

Take that Detective.

“Really?” Brayden eyes widened and he flashed a shy smile. “Did she come with you?”

“Um, no, she—uh, I’m sorry, she’s not here.”

Mikey thought messing with the cop would make him feel better. Instead, he wanted to hammer a nail into his brain to match the one in his gut.

“Oh.” The kid looked at the floor. “I thought at least maybe, she’d come to my mom’s funeral. I know Dad isn’t seeing her anymore, but I thought she’d wanna be here. She said she’d think about it.”

Disappointment laced his son’s words. Misty tears formed in Mikey’s eyes. The expression on Hunter’s face fell too.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Grace

Grace sat at Natalie’s kitchen table tapping her foot. The smell of garlic and oregano filled the room. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Shit.”

Natalie looked up from the pot of her homemade spaghetti sauce she was stirring on the stove. “Haven’t you punished yourself enough, Grace? Just go to the funeral.”

“That’s a bad idea. If I go, I’ll only take him back and end up hating myself for giving in. He lied to me.”

Natalie covered her sauce with a lid and laid the spoon on a paper towel. “Are you serious? You didn’t tell him your father’s a cop.”

“That’s not the point. I only withheld the information. I was going to tell him. Eventually.”

“And didn’t he only ‘withhold information’ like you did?”

“Not the same thing.” Grace stared at the table. Natalie had a point but she wasn’t ready to admit the woman was right.

Natalie put her hands on her hips. “Oh my God. It’s exactly the same, whether you want to believe it or not.”

Grace sucked in a breath. “I wish things weren’t so difficult all the time.”

“They’re not. You just make them that way.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Steam rose from the pot when Natalie raised the lid and stirred her sauce again. “Your father went up there.”

Grace’s jaw dropped and she laid her palms on the table. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He went on police business. But I don’t think that was the real reason. I think he wanted to talk to Mikey. See if he is the man he thinks he is, or isn’t.”

Grace’s brows snapped together. “What does that mean?”

Natalie shrugged. “I think it means he feels guilty.” She turned a knob on the stove and put down her wooden spoon.

“For what?”

Natalie leaned over the kitchen island next to the stove top. “You’d have to ask him that.”

Grace missed Mikey. A lot. Sad really, since it had only been a few days. Had she been hasty in her decision?

“Am I an idiot?”

Natalie laughed. “No, but I think you’re scared of letting go.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Mikey

Marie stood with her hands on her hips. The pose made her look like a pecking hen. “What are you all doing out here? The service is about to start.”

“We’ll be right there.” Mikey dried his eyes with his fingers. He grasped Brayden’s shoulders from behind and led him into the viewing area. His son insisted on sitting directly in front of Cynthia’s dead body. A chaplain recommended by Mr. Rose said a prayer then spoke a few words about how wonderful a person Cynthia was during her life and how she was always there for every one of her friends.

Mikey couldn’t resist the urge and swiveled around in his chair. The other attendees had blank expressions. He also noted that only twenty or so people had bothered to show up. This included himself, Marie, Brayden, and Harry Hunter. His eyes met with the detective’s for a moment before he faced the front again.

Brayden sniffled but wasn’t crying. Marie blubbered like an idiot and mostly for show.

“If any members of the family or a friend would like to say a few words, you may do so at this time,” Mr. Rose said after thanking the minister.

Marie tapped Mikey on the arm.

No way. Nope.

Brayden tugged on his father’s sleeve. “You should probably say something,” he tried to whisper but failed—everyone heard.

Great.

What the hell was he supposed to say up there? Why couldn’t Marie do this?

Like a good soldier going off to battle, Mikey walked the five feet toward the lectern. He gripped the sides of the podium, his knuckles white. He tried to breathe. Wasn’t going to happen though.

He cleared his throat a number of times but his voice cracked anyway. “For those of you that don’t know me, Cynthia was my ex-wife. In the last few years, it was no secret to those that do know me, we didn’t exactly see things eye to eye.” Mikey paused when Marie’s mouth dropped open. Sweat dripped from his forehead.

Fuck.

No kind words were coming to mind. He hated this. Everyone stared at him, expecting him to say nice things. The woman wasn’t nice. He despised everything about her. He hadn’t wished her dead, nor wanted his son to grow up without a mother though. He could hardly believe he married her in the first place.

Brayden’s little forehead creased. He no longer looked like a child to Mikey, but a grown-up in a ten-year-old’s body. His child would never be the same. A loss of innocence had occurred overnight. Mikey looked out to the small crowd.

I’m sorry, Brayden. His boy’s eyes were shiny.

His voice cracked again. “I’m s-sorry…I…this is…I can’t do this. I don’t know what to say. Brayden…”

“It’s okay, Dad.” The child jumped up and led his father back to his seat with his hand on the small of his back. He didn’t sit down, and instead walked to the front of the room and addressed the crowd. “Mom, you died too soon and I love you. Well, that’s what I would’ve said to my mom if I could. Oh, and I hope there are peace lilies wherever you are.”

This was the moment Mikey knew his son was the bravest soul he’d ever known. He admired him and knew Brayden was already more of a man than he’d ever be.

Murmurs erupted behind Mikey. There were a few aaw’s and Marie clutched her heart. “Come here, Brandon,” she said and opened her arms; he went to his father.

Mikey smirked smugly. “I love you.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Grace

Grace fidgeted in the kitchen chair, rubbed her palms on her jeans. She pushed back and rose from the table.

Natalie watched her pace and the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Is your plan to wear a rut in the floor?”

Grace looked at her surroundings then her feet. “Crap. I didn’t even know I was pacing. What’s wrong with me?”

“Why do you think something’s the matter with you? I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like some?” Natalie opened the cupboard next to the refrigerator. A package of coffee maker filters tumbled out. She caught them mid-air.

“I don’t drink coffee. Why do I attract these impossible men? I hate this.” Grace grabbed hanks of hair above her ears.

“You don’t. And what do you hate?”

The scent of French roast filled the kitchen. Natalie measured and poured enough coffee grounds into the machine for a potent pot.

Grace stopped for a second to look at her friend. Her dad loved a strong cup of coffee too.

“You love him, don’t you?” The older woman filled the glass coffee pot and dumped the water into the reservoir. She pressed the start button.

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I miss Mikey. His kid. Brayden is possibly the wisest person I know, adult or child.”

Natalie leaned against the counter and crossed her legs at the ankles. “You don’t want to know what I think.”

“You right, I don’t. Do you think I made a mistake?”

Natalie raised a brow. “Thought you didn’t want to know my opinion?”

I don’t. I really don’t.

Grace stopped behind the island and laid her upper body across the counter, her head rested on her folded arms. She changed the subject to distract herself from thinking about how much of a mistake she’d made. “What about you and my dad? What’s going on?”

“We’re talking again.”

Grace lifted her head. “Does this mean…?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. We’re friends. I’m in the friend zone, I think it’s called.”

“My dad is a fool,” she said and flopped her head back down. “What should I do?”

Natalie inhaled deeply. “Do what feels good instead of worrying about all the what-if’s.”

“But that’s what I do. I worry.”

“Well, stop it.”

“How?”

“Get a life.” Natalie said and winced.

“Ouch.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Mikey

Mikey held onto his grieving son. Marie looked around the room and avoided eye contact with everyone. Brayden wasn’t close with his grandmother and therefore the woman shouldn’t’ve been shocked by her grandson’s diss. The slight hadn’t been intentional on Brayden’s part. There were some things only a father could help with.

“I…love you,” Brayden said between sobs.

Mikey pulled his son onto his lap. Brayden laid his head on his shoulder. At a time like this, even at ten years old, sitting in his father’s protective hold was what he needed most in the world.

Mr. Rose went to the front again. He told the guests the location of the cemetery and everyone filed out of the funeral home.

Six of the men in attendance and Brayden loaded Cynthia into the back of the hearse. Mikey stood back and watched. Should he have been a pallbearer? Probably, but no one had asked him and he didn’t want to volunteer. Brayden returned to his side.

“We’re supposed to get in our cars now, I think,” Brayden said.

Mikey nodded, his voice box locked up.

Once the cars were all lined up in procession, an employee secured orange and black flags on the cars.

“How far is it to the cemetery?” Marie asked after shutting her door.

“Not far,” Mikey managed to eke out. His jaw tightened. This was the longest day in the history of the world. He took a couple of deep breaths and glanced at his son. The hearse rolled forward and they followed closely behind.

“Well, that was a very short, wasn’t it?” his ex-mother-in-law asked.

“I guess.” Mikey shrugged.

“I can’t believe no one said anything nice about her. And you…how embarrassing.” Marie shook her head.

“I wouldn’t say no one. Brayden said some—”

“You were married to my daughter. You could have said something.” Oh for fuck’s sakes.

Mikey’s hands flew off the wheel for a second and returned to their white-knuckled grip. “Marie, if you had such a problem with it, why didn’t you say something? Tuesday you were so hell bent on Cyn being remembered as a selfless mother.”

“She was selfless.” She set her chin.

“Yeah? How would you know? You didn’t even know your daughter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what you think. You come to town once a year, if that. You don’t have the first clue who your daughter was, let alone your grandson. And half the time you don’t even remember his name.”

Her pupils flared. “That’s not true.”

“It is true.”

Marie clamped her mouth shut and remained silent for the rest of the drive.

Peaceful Pines Cemetery had a long, winding driveway before the main gate. Tall white pines lined both sides of the road. The pebbles dinged off the underside of the SUV as the procession moved past the gate. The hearse led them alongside a temporary awning set up near the side of the paved pathway. Mikey waited until the casket had been removed from the hearse. Brayden scrambled out of the car to take a position between two of the pallbearers.

The men strained as they set the casket down on the lowering device trimmed with a green velvet skirt over the grave. Mikey went to his son and stood behind him, placing his hands on Brayden’s shoulders. His little body trembled. Mikey bent down and kissed the top of his head.

“Do you want to sit down?” Mikey asked.

“No. Can we stay here? I wanna be close to her.”

“Of course.” Mikey looked heavenward.

Marie sat directly across from them in the provided wooden chairs, her eyes burning with contempt. Although she kept staring at him, every time he glanced her way, she averted her eyes. Her opinion of him wouldn’t matter after today. Mikey and Brayden were never going to see her again.

The minister made a short, generic speech, after which someone handed each of the guests a white rose. The coffin lowered into the ground. People walked by and tossed their flower into the pit. Marie remained seated until everyone but Mikey and Brayden had left. For some strange reason, Hunter still lingered.

The rose Brayden tossed in landed on top of the shiny box then slid down the side. “Goodbye, Mom,” he whispered. He looked up at his father. “I’d like to go now.”

“Okay. But we can stay as long as you like.”

“I don’t want to be here any longer. It’s not like she’s coming back.” Brayden grabbed Mikey’s hand and practically dragged him to their car. Marie had disappeared, thank God. So had Harry Hunter.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Mikey

Mikey allowed Brayden to ride in the front seat on the way home from the cemetery. His eyelids drooped before they turned out of the driveway and he fell asleep. As soon as he nodded off, Mikey wrangled out of his tie. He sighed in relief after turning onto the main road away from the graveyard, with not an ounce of remorse about what he’d said to Marie. He never liked the wretched woman and felt her coldness contributed to Cynthia’s lack of compassion for other people. That shit had to have come from somewhere.

Inside the car all Mikey could hear were the road noises and Brayden’s even breathing. This day had been one of the toughest since giving up drinking.

Ten minutes later he stared at the glass fronted beer case at the gas station. Brayden was awake and standing next to him.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “What are we doing here, Dad?”

“Nothing.” The twelve pack of Budweiser made Mikey’s mouth water. Alcohol sounded so good. He could almost taste the exquisite elixir. Oh, what was he saying? He didn’t want this. Did he?

Mikey palmed his cell and punched in the number of someone he hadn’t talked to in over a year. He brought the phone up to his ear. The person answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Sam. This…is M-Mikey—” His throat was dry like he’d chewed on a sheep’s fleece.

“I know who this is. I have caller ID. Been a long time, man,” Sam said.

A long pause passed between them, involving a lot of sighs and “um’s,” on Mikey’s part.

“What’s going on? Although, I can probably guess. I read the paper, so you can spare the details if you’d like.” Sam had been sober twenty-three years last October. “There’s a meeting tonight. Same place and time as always.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Mikey sighed. “I’m looking at a case full of,” he paused, “beer.”

“Figures. Is your son with you?”

“Yep.”

“Look at him.”

“I am.” He continued staring straight ahead, beyond his reflection in the glass. The red and white boxes stared back.

“Bullshit. Look at him, now. What do you see?”

Tears shone in his eyes when he finally gave in and looked at his son.

Brayden looked concerned. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

Mikey huffed. “I’m having a hard time. That’s what’s wrong.”

Brayden nodded. “I kind of know that.”

“Good, keep talking to your son,” Sam said in his ear. A tear rolled down Mikey’s cheek.

Brayden squeezed his father’s hand. “We’ll be all right. I won’t be much trouble, Dad. I promise.”

“I know. You’re the best, kid.”

“Mikey,” Sam said, “listen, I want you to turn around and walk out of the store with your boy. Call me when you get home. I’m trusting you to do the right thing here.”

Mikey ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. “Let’s get out of here, before I do something stupid.”

God, what a burden to lay on a kid. He wished he could take back all the shitty years he’d spent drinking. Brayden needed a father, not some low-life drunk. No wonder he’d been unable to gain full custody of his son when he and Cynthia divorced. Nor was it a surprise she’d left him to begin with.

His mind numbed out during the drive home. He called Andrea and asked her to come over later, then called Sam back.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Harry

Harry sighed for the eightieth time. Marie Dove liked to talk. Although she didn’t have anything interesting or even mildly amusing to say, the woman loved the sound of her own voice. For someone who had lost their daughter in a horrific way, she didn’t come across like a grieving mother. Even though he knew her opinion would be biased, he capitalized on her inability to shut her mouth and interviewed her about Mikey. Off the record, of course.

“Marie, can I ask you something?” Harry had borrowed Natalie’s car so if Cody had shown up at the funeral, he wouldn’t suspect anything. He flipped on the turn signal and decided to take the scenic route back to her hotel from the cemetery.

“Of course you can.” She pulled down the visor and primped her hair in the mirror.

“How long were your daughter and your grandson’s father married?”

“Well, let’s see…I think…um…oh, I know…Cynthia left him when Brandon was four. Or was it five?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. This lady didn’t even know her own grandson’s name.

“Why do you ask? Have you known him long?” Marie pursed her lips in the mirror and turned her head side-to-side, then put the visor back up.

“I’m curious. And I’ve known Mikey a while.”

“So you’re good friends then?”

“Not really, but I wanted to pay my respects.” The truck in front of them swerved without warning, revealing a cardboard box lying in the middle of the road. To avoid it, Harry also swerved quickly. The car jerked. Without thinking he put a protective arm out like he would do if Grace were in the car. His hand brushed against Marie’s too large and high not to be fake, breasts and he braced for a slap. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your—”

“That’s all right. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Uh…” His expression turned from embarrassment to dumbfounded.

Marie giggled. “It’s been a long time since someone touched me.”

“I, uh, huh?” Harry’s eyes shot toward her. The driver of an oncoming car laid on their horn and he veered back into his lane. Under no circumstances had he intentionally touched her breasts.

“I’ve never had a police officer make a pass at me.”

Is she delusional?

“I didn’t. I—”

“Of course you did.” Marie turned in her seat and faced him. She slipped her hand along his thigh toward his crotch. Higher. Higher. Harry sucked in a breath.

Jesus. Christ.

He squeezed his legs together. Marie giggled.

Screw the long way back to the hotel. He jerked the wheel into an illegal U-turn. The centrifugal force sent Marie sliding into the door. “Heeey!” she scolded. He sped through a light that had been yellow too long. A siren kicked on and red and blue strobes flashed behind him.

“Pull over!” the cops who tailed them broadcasted. He turned onto a side street and rolled to a stop.

A uniformed officer he recognized came up to the window. “License and registration, please—oh, Hunter. I didn’t know it was you.” The cop smiled sheepishly.

“It’s all right. This is a friend’s car.”

“Driving a little fast. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Harry got an idea. “Marie, can you step out of the car for a moment?”

Although confusion marred her face, she complied.

“Rudy, could you do me a favor? This woman needs to be dropped off at the Embassy Suites on Grand Avenue.”

“O-okay, but I—”

“Great. Marie, this officer can drive you the rest of the way.”

She had the gall to look wounded. “I thought you were taking me—”

“Not anymore. Have a safe flight home.” Harry raced round the block and back onto the same road, headed in the other direction. He’d call Rudy later and explain. And apologize. As soon as he walked in the garage door which led into his kitchen, he plopped down in a chair. His elbow knocked the edge of the table while he shrugged out of his blazer. He buried his face in his hands and dissolved into a fit of laughter. What in the world had just happened? That woman had to be the craziest person he’d ever met. What a nut job.

His phone vibrated against the leg of the chair. Natalie’s name lit up on the screen. “Hello?” His voice hinted at the humor he still found from the Marie incident.

“I made spaghetti sauce.”

“Bring it and yourself over here.” He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

“O…kay. Are you feeling all right? You sound funny,” Natalie said. Harry could hear what sounded like a pot being covered with a lid. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Natalie knocked on the front door a couple of minutes later and he let her inside.

“The pot is very hot.” She shook her hands out after setting the saucepan on the stove.

“Did you burn yourself?”

“Not really, the pan’s hot and heavy.”

He chuckled.

“What?” she blushed. “The sauce is hot.” Natalie turned the knob on his stove. It clicked a couple of times and the blue flame ignited. She lowered the temperature. “Hope you have some pasta.”

“I’m a bachelor. I always have noodles.” He searched his cabinet for a package of angel hair pasta and handed her the box. They settled at the table after she put a pot of water on another burner.

“How was the funeral?” she asked.

He sighed. “Terrible.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured. It was a funeral.”

“No, it’s not that. There was a low turnout and when I say low turnout, I mean, low turnout.”

“You see Mikey and his son?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a nice guy. Mikey, that is.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“And?”

“Harry,” she grasped his hand, “do you think he did it?”

“No. And I’m really pissed off about it. I want to hate this guy.”

The toilet around the corner from the kitchen flushed. Harry’s heart thundered inside his chest. His hand gripped the hilt of his gun. The snap on the holster sounded louder than usual.

“Harry, take your hand off your gun, it’s only me.” Cedric turned the corner into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with your own crapper?”

“I prefer yours.”

Natalie ignored the banter and patted Harry on the hand. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. The stubborn old goat is a pain in everyone’s ass,” Cedric said and stabbed his cane into to linoleum. He put a file folder down in front of Harry. “I interviewed Chelsea Rand’s family.”

“You did what?”

Cedric pulled out a chair. “Shut up and listen. I asked if she had a new man about the time of her death. They told me she didn’t have a man because she was one of those lesbians. Something else they told me was that she befriended this man a week before her death. Someone her dad thought may have had mental problems.”

“So?”

“So maybe this guy was the killer. They described him. Brown hair, said he reminded him of that sicko who ate all them little boys a few years back. Got shanked in prison.”

“Anyway?” Harry prodded.

“I remember you saying Grace said the same thing about the guy who attacked her. And maybe—”

Harry opened his eyes wider and he cut in, “It’s the same person.”

“Yeah.”

This wasn’t news to Harry. Cody Pollard was definitely a suspect after attacking his daughter. The detective in him wondered why the previous investigators wouldn’t have asked Chelsea Rand’s parents if their daughter were seeing someone or been hanging around anyone new. Maybe they had and this was the reason they never followed up with more probing questions.

“Did these parents give you a name?”

“They couldn’t remember, but her mother thought his first name started with an ‘L.’”

Harry snorted. “Not really all that helpful, is it?”

“S’pose not,” Cedric conceded. “But we know it wasn’t Hardin. From the way you described him, at least.”

“All right, boys, this isn’t good dinner conversation.”

He’d forgotten Natalie had gotten up and finished making the noodles. Harry set the table while she laid out a platter of spaghetti.

“Thanks for inviting me to supper,” Cedric said.

“We didn’t,” Harry said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Mikey

The library was the biggest room and the only one with carpeting inside the community center converted from an old elementary school. The room still smelled of a ditto machine and paste. Bookshelves lined the walls but now held a collection of donated novels and self-help guides. Fridays from seven to ten, Alcoholics Anonymous met in this room. Outside the door, a sign meant as a joke read, ‘Top Secret Meeting.’

Mikey walked past a card table with cups of juice and stale cookies near the entrance. He grabbed some grape juice and stared at a corkboard screwed to the wall above the table. Papers were haphazardly pinned to it vying for space—yellowed posters on what to do in case of choking and a fire route plan were curled around the edges.

“Excuse me,” someone he’d never met said.

Mikey edged away from the table. A circle of chairs sat in the middle of the room and he sat down on the edge of one with his back toward the door. In his mind, he figured if he didn’t sit squarely on the seat, he wasn’t actually there. His eyes darted from person to person as everyone found a seat.

His sponsor Sam, the group moderator, nodded from a chair opposite him. Mikey recognized a few of the members. As they each greeted him in their own ways, he started to feel more comfortable. He eased to the back of the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, his legs kicked out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. The tattoos on his biceps popped. He’d ditched his funeral attire in favor of a black muscle shirt and cargo pants. On his way out the door, he’d shoved his feet into a pair of combats boots and left them untied. Some of the members he didn’t already know stared at his clothing. He glowered at them.

Sam cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. He waited for all side conversations to come to an end. “Good evening, and welcome everyone. I’m Sam. Let’s begin with a moment of silence.” They all bowed their heads. Sam recited the serenity prayer, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” He scanned the faces of everyone seated. “I don’t see any new faces, but there are some I haven’t seen in a long while.” He winked at Mikey. “You want to introduce yourself to those that may not know—”

“Who’s the new guy?” a man with salt and pepper hair interrupted.

Everyone looked at him. “I’m Mike.”

“Hi, Mike,” most of the group chorused.

“Why don’t you share a little bit about what brought you here tonight?” Sam prompted. Mikey knew the guy was going to give him a hard time. Mikey looked to the ceiling.

SQUEAK!

Dimly, he was aware of the door opening and closing behind him but didn’t bother turning around. He really didn’t care who the alcoholic was. Everyone in the room was the same, only the details of their stories varied. The reason for drinking wasn’t unique to anyone present. They wanted to forget.

“My ex-wife was murdered, my girl dumped me, and my son is counting on me to do right by him. Not that I don’t want to. Yep, that about covers it.”

The fact that no one even blinked at Mikey’s “share” told him the stories of the others in the group were more fucked up then his. The latecomer lumbered around the circle and found a chair next to Sam. “Questions, comments, anyone?”

Everyone’s head snapped in the direction of the new addition as he bumped the chair. Mikey face-palmed and slumped further in his seat. Any lower and he’d be lying down. He chuckled without humor.

Unbelievable.

Mikey realized that if he could survive this night without drinking, he may never take up the bottle again.

“You want to share what’s so funny?” Sam asked.

“Not really,” Mikey said.

“I wanna know,” a woman to his right said.

“Yeah,” a few others said.

“Let’s take a vote,” another proposed.

“This is not majority rules here. Mikey, you don’t have to answer to anyone here, including me,” Sam told him for the benefit of the others as well. He addressed the tardy guy. “Harry, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Ahem. I’m Harry.”

“Hi, Harry,” everyone said, Mikey louder than everyone else. The detective narrowed his eyes. Mikey curled his upper lip.

First, Hunter had ruined things with Grace, then showed up at the funeral of his ex-wife, and now this bullshit. Okay, so Grace was his own fault. Still.

You better be a fucking alcoholic, he mouthed to Harry.

What? he mouthed back.

Mikey repeated himself, except this time about every other word came out as a squeak.

Sam frowned at both of them. “You should take this outside, gentlemen.”

“No, I’m good,” Mikey said.

“I’m here to share,” Harry said, feigning innocence with his palms up.

“You guys know each other?” a woman asked.

Harry grunted. “You could say that.”

“How?” a few asked.

Mikey decided to answer for both of them. “He’s my girl’s father.”

“I thought you said she dumped you?” Number one nosy pants asked. He glared at her. “Well, that’s what you said isn’t it?”

The others murmured in agreement.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake’s, what does it matter?” Despite Mikey’s extreme annoyance, he was still seated the same way as before. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “All right, my ex-girlfriend’s father. Are you happy now?”

“Well, yes,” she said.

Mikey looked at Sam like aren’t you going to say anything. He took the hint.

“Harry? What brings you here tonight?” Sam asked.

“Long fucking day. It started with a ten-year-old ripping my heart out. Sweet kid whose mother just passed away. Then I tried to do someone a favor and that favor turned into being groped.”

Mikey’s eyes went round and he laughed. He didn’t need to be told Harry was referring to Marie. The woman was psychotic.

“Not funny,” Harry said.

“It’s totally funny. And let me guess; Marie.” Mikey howled with laughter.

“What do you know about it?”

“About what? That’s she’s a freak? When you both disappeared at the same time, I knew she’d roped you into taking her back to the hotel. I was glad I didn’t have to do it.”

The members of the group sat in silence, some with their mouths open. Harry peered around the circle at each of their faces then leaned back in his chair. He chuckled. “Okay, it’s a little funny. What the hell is wrong with her?”

“You want a list? This meeting is only a couple hours long.”

Harry scratched his head. “A warning would have been nice.”

“How was I supposed to know you would be stupid enough to leave with her?” Mikey was full-on grinning from ear to ear now.

“I t-thought…I was doing…you a f-favor,” Harry said between bursts of laughter. His eyes had tears in them. “Least I could…d-do.”

Sam had a gleam in his eye when he spoke, “Okay, let’s get back to the meeting.”

They sat and listened to a couple of the other members. The nosy woman shared her story about how she’d killed her best friend when they’d gone out drinking one night. She’d jumped the curb and flipped her car into a pine tree. Her friend didn’t have a seatbelt on. This had happened thirty years ago when they were teenagers, and the guilt still controlled her.

Mikey felt inspired to share more of his story. He didn’t know why, or maybe he wanted Harry to know.

“I’ve been an alcoholic as long as I can remember. My family owned a chain of liquor stores, so access was never a problem. It’s funny, I remember my dad getting hammered, like, every night. My mom would cry. She would make me hide in the closet when he got really bad. He never hit me that I can recall, but my mom was scared of him. This happened so frequently I kept a notebook and pencil along with a flashlight in the closet and I would draw.” Tears welled in Mikey’s eyes. “It’s probably why I became an artist.”

Harry made a sound of disdain.

“Tattoo artists are artists, Harry,” Mikey said. “The canvas doesn’t matter.”

The detective nodded.

“Well, my story is different from all of yours, but the feelings, the reason for drinking, it’s no different,” Mikey finished.

“Thank you,” Sam said. “Who wants to go next?”

“Hey, I want to know why Harry was groped. That sounds interesting,” a man Mikey recognized as Chuck said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Grace

Grace knocked on Mikey’s front door. Glancing around the porch, she didn’t see the sidelight curtain fall back into place. The door swung open. Brayden stood behind the screen door with his arms crossed. By the way he looked, she imagined he was tapping his foot behind the bottom half of the door. “Hi, is your dad home?”

“Uh uh.”

“Are you home by yourself?”

“No.” He eyed her suspiciously. For the first time, she noticed his eyes were the same color as his father’s.

Andrea popped her head around the door. “Who are you talking to? Oh hi, Grace. You looking for Mikey?”

Grace half-smiled. “Yeah.”

“He’s not home.” Andrea checked her watch. “He should be back soon though. Come inside.” She opened the screen door.

Grace followed her into the living room where a movie was playing on the TV. The volume was on low and she could barely hear the dialogue.

“Brayden, it’s time for bed. Your dad will be home soon. I promised I’d have you in bed at nine o’clock, and it’s almost ten,” Andrea said. She led him back to his bedroom. Grace trailed behind them.

Brayden got into bed and pulled his shirt and socks off before laying his head on the pillow. Andrea kissed his forehead. Grace stayed by the door.

Feeling out of place, Grace turned to leave.

“Grace?” Brayden said.

She stopped and poked her head back inside the room. “Yeah?”

“I figured out what I wanted to do for my mom,” he said.

“Okay.”

Brayden looked at Grace for a long moment without speaking. She waited. When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there today.”

“I know.”

“You do?” A tear rolled down her cheek. “How?”

“Because you’re here now.” Brayden rolled over and tugged the covers up to his neck.

Grace smiled. The kid had a point. She and Andrea started back toward the living room. Brayden came running out of the bedroom. “You didn’t hug me goodnight.”

“Sorry,” Grace said, bending over to give him a squeeze. She mopped her eyes as she watched him walk to his room in only his gray sweatpants. The door shut with a click.

Grace joined Andrea in the living room. She perched on the edge of the couch with her hands tucked beneath her thighs. The other woman sat in one of the chairs across from her.

“That kid, he’s incredible,” Andrea said.

The tension in Grace’s body eased. “Yeah, he is. Is it cool if I hang out and wait for Mikey?”

Andrea smiled at her. “Of course. You know, I don’t blame you for getting upset and either does he.” An open book lay on the coffee table and she picked up the trashy novel, but instead of reading she earmarked the page. She yawned and checked her watch again. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

The side door off the kitchen opened. Keys hit the tiled floor followed by a curse. Grace moved toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey, I thought that was your car parked out front,” Mikey said, a lopsided smile on his face. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Okay, clearly he wasn’t going to make this easy on her. “Can we talk?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but let me check on Brayden first.” She felt the heat of him as he brushed past her. His scent lingered in the air; she sniffed.

Grace walked back to the couch and sat down. Andrea had disappeared. She heard the front door close. Feeling insecure with a wacko still on the loose, she got up and locked the door, putting the chain in place. She leaned her back against the door. Her shoulders sagged. On the way over to Mikey’s, she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say to him but now all she wanted to do was hold onto him.

She returned to the couch and waited for what seemed like an hour. When he never came back out, she wandered down the hallway. Brayden’s door was shut but a light shone beneath Mikey’s bedroom door at the end of the hall.

She knocked. “Mikey?” her voice sounded tiny.

He didn’t respond. Panic squeezed her heart. “Mikey?” She grabbed the handle. The knob was yanked out of her hand.

“Sorry.” He yawned. “I dozed off.”

“Do you want me to come back tomorrow…or—” Her eyes blazed; he’d removed his shirt.

“You don’t have to go.” Mikey backed up and allowed her to enter his room. She sat on the end of the bed. The muscles in his back bunched as he shut the door and locked it. Grace had never considered tattoos sexy, but she quivered thinking about his smooth skin, ink or no ink.

Her breath caught when he turned around. My God, he had an awesome chest. She’d forgotten.

“What?”

“Huh?” She shook her head and looked away. Her whole body heated. But this wasn’t why she had come over. She wanted him, yes, but she also wanted to apologize and talk things out.

“It’s just the expression on your face. And your mouth is open.”

Is it?

She clamped her jaws tight. “I’m sorry. I…”

He slashed his hand in front of his chest. “You don’t have to apologize. I was wrong. I should have told you what was going on.”

“I didn’t tell you about my—”

“I don’t care who your father is and—shit.” Mikey rubbed his face with his hands.

“What’s wrong?” She went to him except stood an arm’s length away.

“I’m so tired, Grace. Can we talk about this later?”

“Can I?” She reached for him with hesitant arms. He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. Tears pooled in her eyes. His fingers stroked her hair.

“Stay with me,” he whispered. “I need be inside you tonight.”

And I want you inside me.

“Okay.”

He grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled the tank top off. She moaned as his lips pressed against hers.

“Hmm, no bra. I like this. What else aren’t you wearing?”

She shimmied out of her pink and gray plaid Bermuda shorts and kicked off her slip-on wedges.

“Take your panties off,” he said as he kissed her neck. His hands cupped her breasts. A thumb brushed over her nipple.

Oh God.

A surge of heat flooded her. She loved foreplay but right now that wasn’t what she wanted. She hooked a finger around the thin lacy top band of her thong. “You want this?” she teased.

His pupils flared. A guttural groan left his mouth.

“Well come and get it.” She crooked a finger, urging him to join her on the bed. She slinked up toward the pillows. He caught one of her ankles and gently eased her back down to the edge where she positioned herself on all fours.

Mikey yanked her G-string down her thighs. Grace helped him when he reached her knees. The ceiling fan made the air feel cool now that she was fully bared to him. His belt clanked and the sound of his pants being dropped thrilled her.

“Is this how you want it?” Mikey’s voice was low and deep.

“Uh huh…please,” she breathed.

He ran a hand down her spine, fingered her opening. “Oh, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

She moaned when he slipped two fingers into her. He worked her until she begged for his cock. “Please. Come inside me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He gripped her hips. Grace parted her knees a little more and settled into the mattress.

Mikey pushed past her delicate softness. An involuntary squeak of pleasure escaped her. She hoped he understood her needs; she didn’t want leisurely and easy where the waves of ecstasy gradually built. Nope. She wanted pulse pounding, devastating sex, just short of an adult film.

He eased his hips backward until he was almost out. This he did four agonizingly slow times. She panted and began to sweat as panic set in. Her inner walls clamped around his shaft when he stilled.

“Oh,” he groaned. He leaned forward and fondled her beasts. His hands slid along her underside and found her hips again. Mikey pulled his hips back then thrust into her. She pitched forward but his hold on her hips kept her from falling onto her stomach. He drove into her, again and again.

“Oh, yes…yes.” Blood thundered past her ears. Her spirit soared as rapture overtook over her. More pounding. More thrusting. More everything. Their breaths sawed in and out. Her body became liquid and her elbows collapsed. She turned her head to the side. Despite the new accidental position, bursts of pleasure struck hard and fast. She couldn’t breathe, but she could do that later.

“Oh, oh, oh…G-Grace, I can’t stop. I’m…oh fuck, yes.” Mikey’s body shuddered. His sex kicked inside her silky channel. When he finished, he patted her bottom before pulling out and lying next to her.

Grace settled into a more comfortable position. “Mmmm…thank you,” she smiled with her eyes closed.

Mikey labored to breathe. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. Grace traced a finger around the outside of his raven tattoo. “Will you be getting any more?”

“Tattoos?” He turned on his side and rubbed her back. “I’m a tattoo artist; what do you think?”

“Well, you really don’t have that many. I was curious, if you’re planning on covering your entire body.”

“Actually, I’m working on a design now, but I’m not sure when I’ll have the time to get the work done. But to answer your question, no, I’m not going to have my entire body inked.”

Grace rested on her elbows. The sheet rasped against her nipples. Mikey eyed her tight breasts. “Roll over. I want those in my mouth.”

Without hesitation, she complied and put her hands over her head, free as the phoenix on his back. She felt safe with him and wanted him to know.

He suckled her, flicked his tongue over her nipples. She rocked her hips in pleasure. “Mmmm.”

Mikey lifted his head and revealed half-mast eyes and puffy lips. “Still so horny…and wet.” His hand cupped her sex and he pushed his middle finger inside.

Her back arched; he’d found her G-spot. “Oh, God.”

He smiled at her. “You like that?”

“I’m a sex goddess, what do you think?”

His laughter cut through the room. “Yes. You are.”

CHAPTER SIXTY

Grace

Grace tiptoed past Brayden’s room.

Creak.

She winced. The floor insisted on making noise. She continued on toward the living room.

“Good morning, Grace.”

The blood drained out of her head.

Crap.

She turned to find Brayden standing in the middle of hallway outside his room. He was wide awake and already dressed in jeans and a TMNT t-shirt. She tied to think of a viable excuse for being in the house so early on a Saturday morning. Although, she wasn’t sure why it mattered. She’d already spent many nights sleeping over, or maybe it was she knew the kid missed nothing and she was embarrassed for doing his father.

“I, uh…just came over.”

“Okay. Then why are you wearing the same thing as yesterday?”

“Uhhh…uh…I, um…”

Brayden laughed. “It’s okay. It’s cool,” he said and went into the living room.

Grace stood there for a minute. When the TV came on she ran to Mikey’s room, flung the door open, went inside, and shut the door. She slid down the wooden panel and landed on her butt.

“Is everything all—what are you doing?” Mikey asked as he came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his hand.

“I ran into your son in the hallway.”

“So? It’s not like he doesn’t know you’ve slept over before.” He helped her off the floor.

“Well, I—never mind.”

Mikey finished getting dressed. Grace stayed in the room with him because Brayden was lurking in the living room. She wasn’t afraid of him; she just didn’t have a lot of experience with ten-year-olds. What would they talk about, really? And she’d had sex with his dad earlier.

Brayden opened the door without knocking. Now she remembered why Mikey always locked the door. The kid was used to coming into his father’s room whenever he felt like it.

“What’s up, kid?” Mikey pulled on a pair of socks.

Brayden walked toward the bathroom. “I’m hungry. Can we go to Eggtastic Omelets for breakfast?” He closed the bathroom door.

“Isn’t there something here to eat?” Mikey called through the door to the bathroom.

“Have you seen the fridge lately?” The kid’s words were slightly muffled behind the door.

Grace heard what sounded like water being poured in the toilet until she realized he was peeing. Mikey rolled his eyes and mouthed, breakfast? The toilet flushed. After Brayden washed his hands he came out.

“You’re coming with us, right, Grace?”

“Sure.”

She noticed the time when they got in the car, 7:16 AM. On most mornings she wouldn’t be out of bed until 8:00. She yawned.

Grace hadn’t been hungry on the way to the restaurant but her stomach growled while she read the menu. She looked over the top of the laminated folder with pictures of food that looked more appetizing than it was in reality. “What are you going to have?” She addressed the question to Brayden, curious about what he liked.

“What’s the way I like my eggs?” he asked his dad.

“Over medium.”

“Over medium with hash browns and bacon. And rye toast,” Brayden said.

Grace spotted something she couldn’t resist on the menu. “Sounds good but I think…I’ll have…a Belgian waffle.”

During breakfast they discussed the finer points of waffles versus pancakes, an argument Brayden won. Grace told him she would make pancakes for him sometime, her mother’s recipe.

Brayden used his toast to make an egg sandwich. He took a bite and the yolk squeezed out onto the plate. Grace mopped up the last bit of her syrup with a forkful of waffle and Mikey wiped his mouth on his napkin. He leaned back in the booth and put his arm around her.

“Do you love each other?” Brayden asked.

Grace coughed with her mouth full of orange juice and spat it back into the glass.

“Bray?” His father narrowed his eyes on his son and shook his head.

“Well?”

“We like each other,” Mikey answered and rubbed Grace’s back as she continued to cough.

Brayden put down his fork. “Wow, Dad, what a great influence on an impressionable young mind. She sleeps over and you don’t even know if you love her.”

Grace thought Brayden was joking until he started asking the hard questions.

“What are your intentions?” Brayden asked.

Mikey sighed. “Bray, this really isn’t any of your business.”

Grace patted his hand. “It’s okay. We’re going to keep dating and see where this goes.”

“Uh huh,” Brayden said and glanced across the table. “Well, I think you love her.”

It was Mikey’s turn to cough. “What?”

“It’s kind of obvious. You almost fell off the wagon. Not that it’s her fault…”

Grace looked at Mikey.

“I’m fine, moment of weakness,” Mikey told her.

Brayden continued, “And Grace, you came back, so there it is.”

“O-kay.” Mikey turned crimson.

“Um, I…” Grace wanted to dive under the table.

Brayden rolled his eyes. “Adults. Sheesh.”

“This from a kid who still asks me to tie his shoes,” Mikey grumbled.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Harry

Harry’s phone vibrated right off the night stand next to his bed. He couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep. Ever. The last two weeks had settled down nicely, except for being unable to discover the true identity of Cody Pollard. Bastard ghosted right after Cynthia’s murder. The hairs they found on the poncho he’d left behind at the crime scene turned up nothing in CODEIS. However, at least if he killed again and was apprehended they could pin Cynthia Hardin’s murder on him. Of course, that sucked for his next victim.

Grace still wasn’t talking to him. And like a jackass he’d avoided Natalie since the night she’d made spaghetti dinner for him and Cedric. He hadn’t been rude to her face, although did that really matter? Although coward wasn’t a word he liked to call himself, the label fit.

Harry glanced at the display on his cell’s screen. UNKNOWN.

Great.

This time of night, the chance the call was a telemarketer was low.

He answered the call. “Whoever this is better have a damn good reason for calling so late.”

“Detective…tsk, tsk, tsk…”

“Who is this?”

“So you still haven’t figured out who I am.” Not a question but a statement. “Thought you’d be cleverer than that.”

“Cody Pollard.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Why don’t you quit playing games and tell me who you really are?” Harry asked.

“Hmmm, think not. I have a problem…”

“Enlighten me,” Harry said, wanting to learn more. “Please.”

“See, I have this dilemma. On one hand I’m tired of Mr. Hardin. I’ve grown exhausted from killing everyone he loves.”

“Got news for you, the women you killed, he didn’t love.” Cody remained silent. “The way I see it,” Harry continued, “you did the guy a favor.”

And even left evidence to prove Mikey’s innocence.

“You would see it that way, Detective.”

“Is there a reason you called?”

“Of course, Detective.”

Harry cringed, never in his life had he despised being called that. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“Your daughter is very beautiful. A little skinny for my taste, but Mikey loves her. I see the way he looks at her.”

Harry’s heart rate spun out of control. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. His whole body tensed. “My daughter’s not your concern.”

“Oh, but she is. She insisted upon it.”

“What do you mean?”

Click.

“Goddammit!”

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Grace

Grace checked to make sure all the doors were locked in Mikey’s place. She paced the all too quiet house, nervousness addling her brain. Brayden had been a perfect gentleman, eaten all his dinner she’d cooked and put on his plate. He even showered and got ready for bed without any fuss. Of course, she had nothing to compare his behavior to, but he told her when he was supposed to go to sleep. He even took himself to his room at 9:30.

Mikey said he’d be home after finishing his last client. However, the appointment hadn’t officially started until 8:30. Who worked this late on a Saturday night? She laughed at herself. Who the hell was she kidding? If she and Mikey hadn’t rekindled things, she’d still be at the office.

During one of her rounds through the kitchen she checked the clock on the stove and it was now 11:03 PM. The dishes were all washed and put away, the counters wiped down. The house felt empty. Too empty. She crept down the hall to check on Brayden. He was breathing evenly. Nothing wrong in the bedroom.

A breeze wafted over from by the window. The curtain billowed and then got sucked back into the screen. Who left the window open when a lunatic was still running around? She shuddered and went to shut the damn thing. The frame banged against the sill.

Shit.

She looked over at Brayden. He rolled over.

“Grace, is that you?”

“Yes, sorry, Bray, your window was open. I think it might rain.”

“Uh huh…” He pulled the covers over most of his head.

Grace waited, making sure he was asleep before tiptoeing out of the room. The floor in the hallway creaked with each step. Thunder rumbled outside. She stopped and counted. 1…2…3…4…lightning cracked. She ran to the living room and dove under the blanket.

BOOM!

The house shook.

Yes, she was a grown-ass woman huddled under a blankie. Meanwhile, a ten-year-old slept in his room all by himself.

Good grief, Grace, man up.

The interior of the house lit up like daylight had suddenly come.

CRASH!

BOOM!

Crackle, crackle.

The power went out; a transformer had blown. Grace yelped and jerked the afghan up to her neck.

The continued lightning allowed her to navigate to the kitchen without incident. She opened the pantry and retrieved the flashlight stuck to the inside of the door. The heavy duty Coleman required a six-volt battery. She clicked the ‘on’ button. Fortunately, she discovered the flashlight during her cooking extravaganza. Okay, so she made chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. It was still cooking.

Back on the couch, she settled beneath the blanket again. She grabbed her phone to once again check the time and the ringtone startled her. The phone flipped into the air. She grappled clumsily until the cell landed in her lap. The screen read, “Daddy Dearest.”

She put the phone up to her ear.

“Grace, where are you?”

She sighed heavily. “None of your busin—”

“Grace, enough! Where are you?”

She gasped and gripped the phone tightly. “What’s wrong? I’m at Mikey’s.”

“What are you doing—never mind, is he there with you?”

“No, he’s at work. Why?”

“You’re alone! You need to leave now.”

“I can’t, Brayden’s here. I’m watching him.”

“Well take him with you!”

“Dad, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

BOOM!

She screamed.

“Grace! Grace!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. The storm—”

“I’m coming over.”

Her father’s breaths grew shallower and heavier as he no doubt ran to his car. Grace flew off the couch and hurried down the hall to Brayden’s room. He looked too still, she couldn’t see him breathing. The phone slipped off her ear. She nudged his shoulder; he didn’t stir.

“Brayden!”

“Grace? Grace!” her father shouted.

Brayden sat up. “Wha…what?”

Grace breathed a sigh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What’s going on?” her father asked tensely.

She pressed the phone back to her ear. “I’m here, I’m here. Brayden scared me, that’s all.”

Grace could hear traffic noise and the sound of windshield wipers.

“I’m coming, Grace.”

She white-knuckled the phone. “Dad, tell me what’s going on.”

“I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Bullshit. What it is?”

“Cody called and—”

“What, you think—”

“He threatened you. It’s more than likely he knows where you are.”

Grace couldn’t think about the possibility the bastard would come after her again. Perps usually didn’t do that after a bad encounter, but…She gasped. “Oh God, Mikey. How long ago did Cody call you?”

“Five, seven minutes max.”

“If he were threatening me, wouldn’t he have done that from inside the house or just around the corner? He’d be here already.”

“Shit. Where did you say your boyfriend was at? Christ…work. Hang up and call 9-1-1.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Mikey

The last of Mikey’s clients for the night paid and left his shop. Getting back to work after a week and a half made him feel almost normal. The police were finally off his back and he could breathe. Grace continued to live with Natalie but stayed over most every night. She and Brayden got along well, which was a relief.

Mikey walked behind the curtain in the back of the shop. He put his iPhone into the Bose speaker dock. The music blasted through the sound system while he logged his clients for the day at his desk. His receptionist’s job was to wipe off the glass counter and restock the body jewelry that had been sold. She was supposed to sweep and mop, but most of the time she avoided the chore. He hated to get on her but the floors needed some cleaning.

Mikey kept his back to the curtain and yelled. “Mandy!” With the heavy metal turned up so loud, he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t respond. He turned down the music with the remote on his desk. “Mandy?”

Feet shuffled behind him and he swiveled around on the stool. All the blood drained from his head. Cody stood on Mikey’s side of the curtain, a yellow handled sledgehammer hanging from his right hand. Blood dripped from the head of the tool. Bodily fluid was splattered on his face and clothing.

Oh God.

Mikey’s heart raced. Even though he outweighed Cody by fifty pounds, there was no telling what other weapons he had in his possession. With a young son at home, Mikey wasn’t interested in taking any chances. He wasn’t a pussy, he just wanted to see Brayden again. He put up his palms.

“Cody, what’d ’ya need? Is there something I can do for you?”

Cody’s brow creased and he chuckled humorlessly. “See, I envy you.”

“Why? My life sucks.” Mikey placed his hands on the top of his thighs.

“No.” Cody shook his head. “You’re everything I want to be.”

“You can be anything you want.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Mikey darted his eyes to the left. On the counter his phone rang, interrupting the song. At this distance he couldn’t read the screen. He hoped whoever it was figured out he needed help. Except how would they know that?

The cell chirped.

“Someone has voice mail. Probably that nice detective. Too bad he won’t get here in time. He’ll come to his daughter’s aid first. Funny how fathers are like that. So predictable.” Cody put his empty hand in his pocket.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure he already called for back-up.”

“Do you think he cares about you? You’re the man who’s fucking his daughter. A man he despises.”

Mikey said a prayer for Brayden. He’d have to move fast if he any chance of gaining control of the situation. He lunged for Cody’s middle. They hit the ground with a grunt and slid on their sides under the velvet curtain as one. The sledgehammer skidded across the floor and out of Cody’s reach. Mikey heard a click and something sharp jabbed him on the left side of his abdomen.

No…God…No…

He clutched his gut. Blood spread out from the stab wound on his shirt. All he could think was that this wasn’t fair. Was this how those women Cody killed felt? Tears rolled down his cheeks. Swearing and gasping, he tried to stand but only managed to get on his hands and knees. His vision wavered. The killer went in and out of focus.

Cody pushed him and Mikey landed on the floor. He lay sprawled out with his hand still on his wound. With his cheek flat against the cold cement, he blinked a couple of times and focused on his killer.

The switchblade still stuck out of Cody’s coat pocket. He threw the knife onto the cement floor and retrieved his heavy hammer, the metal head scraping over the floor. Mikey hoped he wasn’t imagining the faint police sirens growing louder.

Cody gripped his sledge in both hands, stomped back over, and stood looking down at him. Mikey moaned but couldn’t move much. Blood pooled beneath him. The sirens fell silent and no red and blue lights flashed through the glass front of the shop. The police had been after something else. His optimism faded and left him with despair. Mikey saw his son’s face and lopsided smile.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Out of corner of his eye, he watched as Cody swung the hammer over his head and without a sound, brought the heavy weight down.

Mikey closed his eyes.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Harry

The station responded to Harry’s call on the first ring. Must be some sort of record. That rarely happened.

Harry’s tires squealed. The rain made the lines in the road hard to see. “Come on. Come on!” He beat the wheel waiting for the light to turn green. He looked both ways and gunned it. The underside of his car sparked on the pavement as he bolted through the intersection. Someone honked their horn.

The car in front of him slowed. Harry blew his horn. “Get out of the way!” he screamed. The driver threw his hands up in the air as Harry passed him on the gravel shoulder, spraying the other driver’s car with rocks.

He called the station again to give them his location. A police escort would be a tremendous help now. At the next light a police cruiser joined him. He allowed the vehicle to pass. Water sprayed his car and the wipers struggled to keep up. A second car merged in line behind him, sirens blasting. He hoped the idiots cut the noise before they got any closer to the tattoo parlor.

Ink Addiction was still eight blocks away. Traffic became more congested toward the downtown area then dropped off closer to the place.

Finally, Harry saw the shop and the blaring sirens stopped. The only lights he saw from the down the street were a purple neon sign and tubing around the front window. He put his foot to the floor and whipped into the slanted parking spots two doors down. He drew his gun as he jumped out of his car. One of the police vehicles went around to the alley behind the strip mall.

Blood-splatters were on the glass door of the shop. Through the window, a few feet to the right, lay a motionless woman on the floor, a red pool spreading beneath her head.

Cody was poised over Mikey with a sledgehammer raised high above his head. The hammer started to descend.

Harry flung the door open.

***

Mikey

BANG! BANG!

Mikey covered his head with his free hand and grunted when a heavy weight collapsed onto his back. As far as he could tell, he was still alive. The weight lifting off his body relieved him although his side burned. He opened his eyes and found Cody moaning beside him a few feet away.

Someone above him was calling his name. Who the person was didn’t matter, he was still alive. He was rolled over and a board was placed under him.

Ouch! Mother! Fu…

Bright light was shined in his face a couple of times. The voices sounded friendly but semi-frantic. Intense pressure replaced his displaced hand on the wound above his stomach and he could suddenly breathe better. A mask covered his nose and mouth.

“B-B-Brayden…G-Gra…”

“Mikey try not to talk. We’re going to take good care of you.” The woman’s voice soothed him. Who was she and how had she known that’s exactly what he needed to hear? “We’re taking you to the hospital? Do you understand?”

He nodded.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Grace

Grace began pacing the second her father had hung up. The frantic phone call to 9-1-1 hadn’t slowed her down, it only increased her pounding movements.

Brayden woke up and came into the hallway by the front door. The lights were still out. Candles burned in the kitchen, living room, and on the slim table in the front hall.

“I heard you talking,” he said.

The doorbell rang. Grace glanced out the window more out of habit than necessity. The strobes gave away the visitors.

When she opened the door, Officer Rudy and his partner’s serious expressions stared back at her.

“Everything all right in here?” Rudy asked.

Grace opened the screen door to invite them inside.

“Have you witnessed anything suspicious?” the other officer asked.

“No, but the power went out.”

“Yeah, the lightning took out some power lines in the neighborhood.” Rudy’s shoulder radio chattered. How in the world they could understand anything the person on the other end said was a mystery. He responded with ‘10-4’. “Grace, Detective Hunter—”

“Oh God, what? Is Mikey all right? Is—oh my God.” She leaned on the wall for support.

Brayden reached for her hand. “Relax.”

She blew out a shaky breath. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“It’s all right. He said to tell you everything is secured,” Rudy said.

There sounded like a “but” in Rudy’s statement. “What the hell does that mean?” She looked at Brayden. They both paled but Brayden remained firmly planted to the floor. Grace held onto his hand. The wording her father used caused her panic to control her imagination. “Secured? Why not say everything is fine or Mikey’s alive? Or false alarm?

“Grace,” Rudy said, “that’s the only message, it means he’s fine.”

“How come I’m hearing a ‘but’ in your tone? What about my boyfriend? His father?” Her eyes misted over and Brayden squeezed her hand.

“He said the situation is secure. I’m sure—”

Grace glared at the cop. “You don’t know. You don’t know anything!”

“My dad’s fine,” Brayden told her.

“How do you know?” Grace spat out before she realized that wasn’t the best thing to ask a ten-year-old who’d just lost his mother, regardless of how precocious the kid.

“Because being an orphan is not a thing for me.”

“We don’t know what’s going on yet, let’s wait and see.” Rudy said. His radio chirped something unintelligible again. “10-4,” he replied into the handset.

Grace shook her hands at Rudy. “10-4, 10-4, what?”

“They are taking Mr. Hardin to the hospital to treat his injuries.”

“What kind of injuries? What the hell?” Grace’s nostrils flared as she breathed in and out of her nose. “Brayden, grab your shoes and…” She ran off toward the kitchen for her purse.

“We’ll drive you,” Rudy called to her as she dashed away.

When she returned to the front hallway, her hands trembling, one of the cops was tying Brayden’s shoes. He glanced up at her with shiny slate-blue eyes. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” The sureness of his earlier tone had diminished.

They rode to the hospital with the siren wailing. The cops hardly had the car in park when Brayden screamed to be let out. Grace felt the same way too.

The white and red emergency sign shone brightly over the entrance. The fluorescent bulbs under the permanent awning hurt her eyes.

She and Brayden ran to the automatic doors faster than the sensor detected their motion and they had to wait for the door to slide open. Grace thought the Jeopardy! theme should have been piped in.

They rushed the triage station outside the doors leading to the ER. Her knees banged into the desk. Brayden’s fingers gripped the edge.

“Mikey Hardin, please. How is he?”

“How’s my dad?” Brayden said at the same time Grace spoke.

“He’s up in surgery,” the nurse replied after typing into her computer for his status. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re here. Are you family?”

“Yeah. This is his son and I’m his fiancé.” She wasn’t sure if they would allow her to see him if she hadn’t told the lie. And who knew what her dad may have told them. She looked down at Brayden and winked. His mouth formed an “O” as he caught her meaning.

“Your name?”

“Grace Bell.”

“Okay, Grace, you can have a seat in Surgery Four’s waiting room. The nurses at the desk up there will be expecting you both.” The woman in the pink scrubs told them what floor and color line to follow to get there.

The surgery level was too quiet, the mood somber. The waiting room consisted of emerald green office guest chairs screwed together around the perimeter of the room. A phone hung on the wall by the door. In two corners where the chairs came together were tables littered with outdated magazines and pamphlets about grief counseling. She couldn’t even look at them for more than two seconds before her intestines twisted into knots. She swallowed hard. Every time someone walked by she leapt out of her chair. Twice she and Brayden left the room to bug the nurses at their station. They politely told Grace and Brayden to wait longer and someone would be out to talk to them as soon as possible.

To pass the time, she and Brayden played I Spy, but that quickly got old.

Grace got her hopes up when she heard a man and a woman talking out in the hallway. Although she was grateful for Andrea and Brad’s arrival, they weren’t who she wanted to see.

Brayden went to Andrea. They hugged and Brad shook his hand. A sign of respect for Brayden, after all he wasn’t a baby anymore. Andrea glowered at her husband.

What? he mouthed. She shook her head mildly.

“Heard anything yet?” Andrea asked.

“Nope. And I can’t take much more of this.” Grace hunched over in her seat. Good under pressure, she was not. She’d always been one to get flustered without warning. She fidgeted in her seat and sighed repeatedly.

“Breathe,” Andrea told her.

Brad sat next to Brayden across the room, the whole ten feet. He handed his phone to Mikey’s son. Brayden played Angry Birds from the sounds the game made. Andrea asked him to turn down the volume. He complied without any complaints. Man, this kid amazed her. She was never that awesome.

Grace wrung her hands. Andrea flipped through a Glamour magazine. Brad occasionally blew hair off his forehead with an exhale. Brayden focused on his game.

The digital clock on the wall displayed the seconds. Grace watched the numbers increase then start back at one. She didn’t take her eyes off the seconds because knowing how much time had passed didn’t work for her. 1…2…3…4…5…As hard as she stared, she didn’t see the man in scrubs appear in the doorway until he spoke.

“Hardin family? I’m Dr. Slone. I’ve got some good news. Mikey did well in surgery. Fortunately, the stab wound—”

“S-Stab wound?” Grace stuttered; Brayden’s eyes teared.

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” The doctor looked from face-to-face.

“Nobody told us shit,” Brad chimed.

“Mr. Hardin was stabbed on the left side of his ribcage, but fortunately the knife missed most of anything vital. I had to remove his spleen, but he should make a full recovery.”

“Can you live without a spleen?” Brayden asked.

The doctor smiled. “Yes, absolutely. He just has to make sure he stays up on all his vaccinations for things like pneumonia and stuff like that. But he should be fine.”

“Can we see him now?” Grace asked, wringing her hands.

“He’s still in recovery. As soon as you can see him someone will come get you.”

“How long will that be?” Grace knew she was being pushy, but she didn’t care.

Dr. Slone smiled. “Not too much longer.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Grace

Brayden held Grace’s hand as they walked into Mikey’s hospital room. She imagined there would be all sorts of tubes hooked up and stuck out of him, or maybe a ventilator. A nasal cannula, an IV, and a heart monitor were the only things attached to him. His eyes were closed. Brayden slipped past her and took his father’s hand.

“Dad?”

Mikey’s eyes opened to slits. From what she could see of them, they were glassy. “Hey,” he said groggily. His eyes darted toward her. A lopsided smile picked at the corner of his mouth then faded as his eyes drooped.

Grace joined Brayden at the side of the bed. “What happened? No one told us anything?”

Mikey closed his eyes.

Oh, right, stupid question to ask right now. Even if Brayden weren’t in the room, this wasn’t the right time to talk about his stabbing.

Mikey’s unsteady hand reached for her own. “Grace…” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“You’re cry…ing. Don’t…cry.”

“S-Sorry,” she croaked. God, she wanted to throw herself onto the bed and wrap her arms around him. The massive bandage on his side was the only thing stopping her.

Brayden climbed onto the bed and made himself comfortable. She looked away and sniffled.

“What’s wrong?”

Grace snapped her head back up. “Wha—oh, nothing. I just—never mind.”

“No. What?” Mikey’s voice sounded hoarse.

“You need to get some sleep. I’m fine,” she said, choking on her sobs.

Brayden jumped off the bed. “Here, Grace, sit down. I think you need this more than me.”

“No, Bray, he’s your dad. I’m fine, really.”

“You keep saying that but I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t e-either.” Mikey tried to smile widely, but wound up squeezing his eyes shut. He took a deep breath which ended with a low groan. “Sit, Gra…”

Her eyes teared up and she carefully sat on the edge of the bed. “Should we call the nurse? Are you in pain?” Grace wasn’t aware she was holding her breath until she exhaled. The room spun. Mikey’s hand reached out for her again. He wanted to steady her, but wasn’t she supposed to be doing that for him? She squeezed his hand and let go.

He groped around for the remote nurses call button. A woman in blue scrubs entered the room less than two minutes later. “You need something for the pain?” She adjusted the IV bag. Mikey nodded. “All right, I’ll be back in a minute.” As the nurse exited the room, the doctor appeared and they almost ran into each other. “Oh, Dr. Slone, I was going to page you. He needs more pain meds.”

“All right, thank you, I’ll take care of it.” When he turned his face looked tight, and fear spiked inside Grace’s stomach.

“Is he—is everything—you said he’d be fine.” God, why couldn’t she relax?

“I’m only here to check on him.” He assessed Mikey’s vitals then put his stethoscope back around his neck. “Heart sounds good, pulse good.” He moved to the bandage and peeked underneath. “Looks good. On a scale of one to ten, how’s your pain level, Mikey?”

Grace adjusted her position on the bed and he hitched a breath. “Sev—eight.”

The doctor took out his cell and made a call, rattling off the name of a drug and its dosage.

Forever passed before a man appeared with a rolling tray of pharmaceuticals. Several needles lined the stainless steel. Grace’s eyes widened. Were all those for Mikey? No…

The man handed one of the vials to the doctor and a packaged needle. She always thought nurses dispensed the medications. What was going on? Sweat dripped down her back. Blackness slowly closed in around her.

“Grace!”

Her vision failed and she blacked out.

When she woke up she was lying on the bed next to Mikey’s, a nurse and Dr. Slone leaning over her. Mikey strained to see her and Brayden stood between the two beds. Her face reddened. She had actually passed out. Needle shock anyone? This had happened to her before, the lightheadedness, but never had she fainted. The nurse put a hand on her shoulder when she tried to sit up.

“Try to relax for a minute.”

“I’m fine,” Grace said.

“Has this happened to you before?” the doctor asked.

“Needle shock. But I’ve never passed out before. First time.”

He took her vitals and seemed satisfied with the results. “All right, you can sit up now. If this happens again I want you to see your physician.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Grace…if I…hear you say…that again, I’m going to get out of this…bed,” Mikey warned, his voice wavering.

Brayden looked at him like over-my-dead-body.

“I’m just stressed and seeing all those vials of whatever, needles—wait,” she glanced at the doctor, “did you give him the medication?”

“Yeah, I got…got it.”

Grace stood up then planted her butt back down.

Whoa.

“Can I get some juice or something?”

“You sure can.” The nurse patted her on the arm and left. She returned shortly with a cup of apple juice and gingerbread cookies.

“Thank you.” Grace’s head pounded all over. She waited for the extra people to leave before she dug into her purse for some aspirin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Brayden asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Needles freak me out and I forgot how much.”

“So you won’t be getting a tattoo then?” Brayden asked cheekily. “Oh man, Dad, can you handle it?”

Mikey fluttered his eyes in a feeble attempt to roll them. “I think so.”

“Knock knock.” Brad and his wife peeked around the door jamb.

“Can we come in?” Andrea asked. Grace waved them inside. “How’s he doing?” she whispered.

“He’s doing all right,” Grace replied. “Why don’t we ask him?”

Andrea looked at Mikey. “I think he’s asleep.”

“He was talking like a second ago.” Grace looked at her boyfriend. His forehead was creased between the eyebrows. She hated seeing him in so much pain, hated feeling weightless and out of control. She wanted a magic pill to put her life back the way it was before. Change sucked. Her mind began to swim again; she gripped the edge of the bed. The floor doubled, tripled and rotated around. The room distorted.

“What’s wrong with me?” she said aloud without realizing it.

Andrea got in front of her. “What are you thinking about?” Grace shook her head quickly. “Grace, if you need to leave, if this is too much for you, I think Mikey will understand.”

“But I won’t,” Brayden said.

“What?” Grace asked Andrea. “What are you saying? No. I’m not leaving.” For some reason Andrea’s comment woke her up. She wasn’t about to give up on everything she’d worked so hard to overcome? No way.

Mikey moaned in his sleep. Grace went to his side and took his hand. Maybe he sensed her emotions or felt alone, scared like her.

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He settled again.

“Me neither, Dad,” Brayden piped up.

A noise by the door made everyone except Mikey look in that direction. Grace’s father stood outside the room. He waited for an invitation. Brad nodded, which apparently was enough of an invite for him.

“He’s asleep, so if you’re here to interview him, you’ll have to come back tomorrow,” Grace told him.

“Can’t a father check on his daughter’s fiancé?”

Andrea and Brad’s heads snapped in her direction.

“You’re engaged?”

“No, no…I only said that because I didn’t think they’d let me up here otherwise. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“That’s what I figured, because my Gracie wouldn’t get engaged without telling her ol’ man.”

“You know me well.”

“Gracie, I’m sorry honey.”

“Don’t be, you were just looking out for me,” Grace said.

“No, I mean for the other thing.”

“Oh, well, I’m still pissed about that.” She feigned looking stern. He approached her and they embraced. “Promise me you’ll consider asking Natalie out.” She patted him on the back before letting go.

“I hear he’s going to be okay.”

Grace wiped her tears with the tissue Brayden handed her. “Thanks. You’re really a great kid, you know that?”

“Uh huh. Someone has to be the adult around here.”

Everyone awake laughed, including Brayden.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Harry

The door off Natalie’s kitchen was usually unlocked when she was home. This morning Harry found the house locked up tight. He even tried the front entrance. He could have sworn he saw her pull into the driveway earlier. Not that he’d been spying on her or anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

He forced himself to ring her doorbell instead of running away like a pansy. The past couple of weeks weighed on his mind. Over and over he’d worked out how he was going to ask her out.

His palms sweated. Harry swallowed hard and pushed the button. His phone rang in his pocket.

Christ.

When he saw the number he turned around and answered the call.

“Yeah, this is Harry,” he clipped. The door whooshed opened but he was too rapt in listening to the shit the other person was saying to him to greet Natalie.

“What!” He cursed under his breath. “I can’t believe it. Is he awake yet? Medically induced coma, I see. Fuck…we’ll see.”

He’s gonna wish he was never born.

“Yeah, I hear you. Keep me in the loop if anything changes.” He stood facing the road after he ended the call. “Jesus. Christ.” He looked to the sky and ran his palms down his face.

The screen door creaked as Natalie eased it open. “What’s going on?” she asked, stepping outside.

“That fucker survived.”

“Who?”

“Cody Pollard, or whatever the fuck his damn name is.”

She paled. “What…is he—”

“Oh, he’s in ICU, but still breathing. Doctors say he’s going to be paralyzed.”

“Good, he’ll never be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

Harry sneered. “That’s not good enough.”

“He hurt your daughter, of course you wish him dead,” Natalie said. “But sometimes less than what you want is okay too. Sometimes it is good enough.”

His gaze met hers. What was she really talking about here? “Well, maybe less than what you want isn’t good enough.”

“What are you talking about? Revenge?”

“What? No. I was talking about us, Nat. Us.”

“There’s an us?” She folded her arms across her chest. “There’s no us.”

“Yeah, there is…” He stepped closer to her. Very close. Natalie uncrossed her arms. His hand found one of hers and he put it up to his lips. She blushed.

She yanked her hand out of his grasp. “Harry Hunter, quit teasing me.”

“I’m not.” His words came out harsher than he’d intended. She spun on her heel and marched back toward the house. The door squeaked as it swung open. Harry caught the door and followed her inside. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me, us?”

“I do!”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“Are you going to keep seeing your sluts?”

“No, only you. You’re the only slut I want. I mean, the only one I want.”

“I knew what you meant!” Her eyes flared.

Harry neared her; she stepped back until her backside hit the wall in the foyer. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

Her eyes focused on his mouth and her lips parted. “Ah, what about Annie?”

“What about her?”

“She’s…”

“This isn’t about her. I want you.”

Harry waited for her to nod and then pressed his lips to hers.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

Grace

Mikey came home from the hospital two weeks after his surgery. Grace smiled at him from the other end of the couch. Brayden had already gone to bed.

“So what’s this you and my son have planned?” He smiled crookedly.

“He wants it to be a surprise. He wants to remember his mother in a way that will make others happy too.” She wanted to tell him, but promised Brayden she wouldn’t say anything.

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but he knows how you felt about her. He’s not an idiot.”

Mikey snorted. “I know. I wish he didn’t.”

Grace slid over next to him. “I think a part of him understands and he’ll figure it out someday or…not.” She took his hand. “It doesn’t matter, Mikey, at least not to me. I didn’t know her and from the sounds of it, we wouldn’t have been friends.”

Mikey chuckled and squeezed her hand. Grace could tell he wanted to say more but decided to leave whatever was on his mind unsaid. They enjoyed the background noise the TV provided, though neither of them watched the movie.

“Why did you come back? We never really talked about that.”

“What Brayden said that morning at breakfast? That I loved you? He was right.” She shrugged.

“So, um, are you saying you love me?”

She smiled. “No, I’m saying that’s what Brayden said. Yes, silly, I love you.”

“How’d that happen? What’s wrong with you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you love me?”

“Hey, I’m just asking.”

She shoved his hand back at him. He winced and sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Ow—oh.”

“Oh crap, are you all right? I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right,” he eked out barely above a whisper. “I still love you.”

Carefully, she leaned over him and kissed his lips.

“That’s not what hurts, but I like it.” He wasn’t breathing normally and his eyes were closed.

“You’re in pain.”

“Don’t…care. I want…you.”

Grace shook her head. “You’re incredible, you know that? Incredible.”

“I get it. I love you. Now kiss me.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Harry

A picture posted on the six o’clock news of the man dubbed the tattoo killer because of his connection to Ink Addiction tattoo parlor. Mikey’s business received a spike with people wanting a tattoo from the shop a serial killer frequented. Go figure.

Harry hadn’t wanted to post a picture of the killer and give him any more fame except the guy refused to talk and give up his real name. Admitting defeat was something Harry disliked. He didn’t have a lot of hope they would discover Cody’s true identity without the use of a tip line.

God help us.

The designated email box flooded with people claiming they knew something concrete but the leads never panned out. He checked the folder one last time before leaving for the day, scrolling through the long list of subject titles.

His chair creaked as he sat up straighter when one of the emails caught his attention. In the middle of the bullshit emails, one stood out.

I KNOW CODY POLLARD

Harry immediately called the phone number included in the email. Mary Williams answered on the first ring.

“This is Detective Hunter, we received your email regarding Cody Pollard.”

“Is he…is he all right?” she asked, her voice cracking. “The news didn’t say much.”

Harry didn’t answer the question, but asked if she would come down to the station.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Just come down, we have a few questions to ask you.”

Mary showed up thirty minutes later all teary-eyed. Harry brought her into an interrogation room. She started sobbing the second he closed the door. He went back to the squad room and asked a female officer to come back into the room with him.

“You said you know Cody Pollard?”

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend,” Mary said, fiddling the gold cross around her neck.

Harry had to wonder why she bothered to email. Maybe morality over loyalty, given her necklace. “We have reason to believe Cody isn’t his real name.” Harry didn’t want to come out and say they had no clue as to his real name. However, the bastard was impervious to interrogation techniques. Harry had never seen anything like it. They’d tried everything to make him crack.

Mary blinked at him and nodded after a long moment of staring at the table. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card, her fingers trembling. Harry took the card and read it.

Cyber Systems Corp.

Lance Woolley, Senior Programmer

“I f-found this card on the floor in my house after the last time he was over. I was going to give the card back when I saw him again. I didn’t know if he needed it or not.”

“Thank you, Miss Williams.” Harry was willing to bet Lance was Cody’s real name.

“Is he all right?”

“He’s been charged with homicide.”

Tears fell from her face. Harry felt sorry for the girl and at the same time relieved that she wouldn’t be Lance’s next victim. “Is there anything else you can tell me about your boyfriend?”

“He had the name Jennifer tattooed on his arm.” She turned her wrist over. “Cody” had been inked on the inside of her wrist. Harry smirked involuntarily and would wager Mikey had been the artist.

Harry already knew about Cody’s arm but still shivered as he pictured the tattoo. Cynthia’s name was absent and it occurred to him that Grace’s name could have made it on that bastard’s skin. Good thing he hadn’t eaten recently. His stomach lurched.

Mary Williams left twenty minutes later, lucky to have survived even if she couldn’t quite appreciate it yet.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

Mikey

Five weeks after the stabbing, Mikey assembled as many people as he could to support Brayden. He looked around at all the faces and his eyes watered. Brad and Andrea, Davis, his neighbor from across the street, Harry and Natalie, and of course, Grace, had come to the Botanical Park Gardens to help his son pay tribute to his mother.

Brayden and Grace planned the whole thing together and he’d also found out she’d paid for everything. This bothered him somewhat. When he’d insisted on paying her back, she proceeded to argue with him. He threw his hands up and told her he’d pay her back in one form or another.

Although the affair was supposed to be casual, that didn’t stop the ladies from overdressing. Mikey glanced down at the t-shirt and jeans he wore. He held Grace’s hand as they walked to the newly expanded section of the park.

Brayden ran ahead of the adults. When he realized everyone lagged behind he stopped. “Come on…this way.”

“We’re coming. What’s the hurry?” Mikey asked. Brayden only stamped his feet.

“He’s excited and wants to show everybody. Humor him and try to relax,” Grace said.

“I’m relaxed.”

Grace gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Mikey spun around in alarm.

She laughed. “See? Not relaxed.”

“That’s not funny. You know I’m still fucked up about what happened.”

Harry gave Grace a disapproving look too. He’d reacted in the same manner as Mikey.

Her face reddened. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right, I am on edge.” Mikey sighed deeply.

Grace kissed his cheek. “Forgive me,” she whispered next to his mouth. “I know you want this to be over.”

“I don’t like seeing my son upset.” Although, Brayden seemed anything but upset. He looked happy to be celebrating Cynthia’s life.

Brayden finally stopped at the picnic pavilion. The long tables were covered in linen tablecloths. The smell of garlic and chocolate reached Mikey’s nose. Brad and Andrea had Cocoa’s cater a dinner? Now tears welled and threatened to spill over. He loved his friends. Mikey opened his arms and Brayden ran into him.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too.”

Grace rubbed his back as he held his son. The other women in attendance sniffled.

Brayden broke the embrace first. “Before we eat, I want to show you what we did. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will, Bray.” Mikey wiped his eyes with his thumbs. Brayden led him to a circular garden set inside boxwood hedges. Growing out of the middle was a weeping willow tree with pink blossoms hanging down and peace lilies planted around the base. Cynthia would have loved it. Also nestled at the base of the tree was a plaque which read:

‘In Loving Memory of My Mom

Cynthia Hardin.’

Brayden cleared his throat and everyone turned their attention toward him. He waited for everyone to stop talking, the expression on his face serious. Mikey thought he might cry until his son opened his mouth.

“Thank you for coming, now let’s eat. Andrea, did you remember the red velvet brownie that’s mine and Grace’s favorite?”

Mikey tilted his head back and laughed. “I thought you were going to say something about your mom.”

Brayden shrugged. “Naw, she knew how I felt about her. I just wanted everyone to see the tree.”

Mikey chuckled. “Well, it’s great and she would’ve loved it.”

“I love it too,” Grace said.

Brayden smiled, took her hand, and placed it in Mikey’s. “You should always hold hands. I think that was what happened with Mom. You guys didn’t hold hands enough. Dad, I like Grace and I don’t want you to screw things up.”

“Yes, sir. Understood,” Mikey said and kissed his girlfriend.

BONUS CHAPTER

THE MURDER OF CHELSEA RAND

***Spoiler Alert***

Chelsea scanned the floor-to-ceiling wall of tattoos. She’d first gotten inked on a dare. A tiny four-leaf clover on the inside of her left wrist. The instant the needle hit her skin, she’d been hooked. That had been four years ago. Now she was waiting for her favorite artist to set up for her seventh tattoo.

Needles Ned patted his chair. “Ready when you are,” he said. Chelsea went over and sat down. “I embellished the design a bit but I think you’ll approve.” He showed her the transfer he’d made up.

“Wow,” she said appreciatively. “I like.” She pulled her t-shirt up and tucked the end into the side of her bra. Needles rubbed Vaseline on her ribcage. She held her breath when he ran his fingers over her ticklish spot. He smoothed the drawing down her side and lifted the paper.

“You wanna check the placement before I get started?”

“I trust you.”

She glanced up at him but he’d turned his focus on the tattoo machine. He squirted black ink into one of the small cups. After snapping on a fresh pair of black latex gloves, he dipped the needle. Chelsea loved the sound the machine made. The humming vibration calmed her in a hypnotic way. The relief from the emotional pain the needle gave her was profound. As a young teenager, she had been a cutter. Getting tattooed was her new socially acceptable form of self-injury. By the time she was in high school the insides of her forearms were covered in dozens of thin parallel scars. They’d faded in last the four years.

She smiled as the needle punctured her skin, not that she could feel each time ink was injected. The sting felt good. Her anxiety lessened. The chronic tightness in her chest subsided. She breathed easier.

Needles didn’t talk much while he worked and Chelsea appreciated this. She allowed her eyes to rove over the owner of the tattoo parlor across the room. Mikey was in profile as he inked some nerdy looking dude wearing khaki pants. He didn’t seem the type to get a tattoo or even step into a place like this. Although, as far as tattoo shops were concerned, Ink Addiction was by far the cleanest she’d ever seen. Mikey’s muscle shirt showed off his impressive biceps. If Chelsea had been into guys, she probably would have been salivating over him. He never glanced up at her.

“I’m about done with the outline. You wanna finish coloring her up tonight?” Needles asked.

“I have a party to get to.”

“It’s still early. I got time.”

Her cheeks heated. “I can only afford the fine work tonight.”

“No problem, come back anytime you got the cash.”

Needles set the tattoo machine down on the stainless steel rolling tray. She sat up after he cleaned her off and taped a cellophane bandage on her side. “Where’s this party?”

“Uh, it’s nothing you’d be interested in.” Chelsea knew the guy would ask her that. He was forever asking her to do things.

“That’s too bad. Maybe some other time.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. His stare lingered on her face and she pretended not to notice.

“Tammy’ll cash you out up front.” He indicated the receptionist behind the glass fronted display case. The owner’s client, Mr. Khaki-pants, stood in front, leaning over the top. Mikey said something to him and he handed over a hundred-dollar bill.

Needles called across the shop. “Tammy, she’s gonna come back, only charge her the minimum.”

Chelsea whipped around. “No. You don’t have to do that.”

He winked at her. “It’s all good.”

Ehhh.

She didn’t want to owe this guy. Clearly, he liked her. How could she get him off her back? Like now?

Mr. Khaki-pants snorted. “He likes her,” he murmured.

“Tell me about it,” she said, fully aware the dude was talking to himself, not her.

“Are you dating him?”

The question surprised her. “Oh, God no.”

“Keep the change,” Mr. Khaki-pants told Mikey, who thanked him and walked away promptly like he couldn’t wait.

“What did you have done?” Chelsea asked.

Mr. Khaki stared over her right shoulder at the wall.

Odd much?

“Lettering.”

When Chelsea pivoted she caught a glimpse of Needles eyeing her. What was with him?

“I think you’re dating.” Mr. Khaki-pants said.

She giggled. “Nope. Well, maybe he thinks so, but I’m not into dudes.”

He nodded, and said, “I’m Lance.”

“Oh. Chelsea.” When he only gazed beyond her and said nothing further, she headed for the door. She was dimly aware that he followed closely behind but she wasn’t alarmed.

Out in the warm evening air, Chelsea walked past a Harley toward her car parked at the end of the block. The shops on her right had closed at nine o’clock. It was past ten now. Footsteps beat the pavement behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Her older model car wasn’t equipped with a keyless entry and she fumbled with her keys, her heart pounding.

“It’s dark out here,” Lance said.

“Yeah,” she said, out of breath.

“Don’t be alarmed. Please. I wanted to make sure you made it to your car.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She relaxed somewhat. He stopped at what she considered a safe distance. God, she couldn’t find the lock in the dim streetlights. Her body cast a shadow on the car door. Through some miracle Chelsea got the door open, sat behind the wheel, and slammed the door. She’d left the window open earlier because there wasn’t anything worth stealing, including the old sedan.

Lance leaned down and spoke through the eight-inch gap. “Hey, I didn’t mean—did I scare you?”

Yes.

She swallowed hard. “No. I’m in a hurry.”

“Oh. That’s right, the party.”

A motorcycle engine roared and she saw Mikey pull away from the curb on the bike. Needles waved to get their attention. She glanced at Lance then at the tattoo artist. Who was the safer bet? She hated to admit it but Lance looked better. He was smaller and looked non-threatening. “It’s your lucky day, Khaki-pants, get in.” He hesitated for an agonizing number of seconds then jogged around to the passenger side. Needles approached her car. In case the dude wasn’t actually a creeper she called out the window. “I’ll see you in two weeks for the rest of my tat.” She caught him waving dismissively in her rearview mirror and slowly breathed a sigh.

“My car’s back the other way,” Lance said. “If you don’t mind.”

“I’d rather drive around the block to make sure he’s gone, if you get me.”

“Understood.” Lance sat with his back ramrod straight, hands resting on the tops of his thighs.

“Relax. I don’t bite.”

“I know…”

“You always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Uncomfortable around women?”

“Who said I was uncomfortable?”

Chelsea laughed and shook her head. “Forget it.”

“Okay.”

She drove in silence. “There’s this party tonight. You wanna hang? Except, I have to stop by my house for a minute.”

“Okay.”

Wow.

He was definitely strange but she kind of liked him. She drove them through town past the wealthy neighborhoods. They chatted. Well, she asked questions and he gave brief answers. She pulled into Webster Heights Manor trailer park. Her brakes squeaked as she stopped in front of her family’s double-wide. “Come on in. I live with my parents by the way. Just ignore them.”

Inside the mobile home, her mom was glued to the flat-screen watching Game of Thrones. Another TV blared from her parents’ bedroom. Dad didn’t watch her mother’s favorite program.

Her mother pressed the pause button. “Oh, hi there,” she said when she noticed Lance. “Who’s this, honey?”

“Mom…Lance…Lance…my mom.”

Her dad cleared his throat over by the transition from the hallway to the living room. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

Oh, God.

Every time she brought a dude home her parents hoped she’d switched sides. “This is Lance. My friend.”

Chelsea went to her bedroom, changed her clothes, and freshened up her deodorant. She grabbed five bucks from her tattoo fund jar then saved Lance from her parents’ clutches.

***

The party wound up being lame. The best part was whoever had bought the keg hadn’t gone with the cheap shit. Chelsea’s five dollars wasn’t wasted after all. Lance even opened up more as the night progressed. She could see herself being friends with him. He’d confessed that he was bullied as a kid and never fit into anyone’s mold, not his parents, teachers, no one. She related well to that.

She drove her new friend back to where he’d parked his car. At two-thirty in the morning the commuter lot off the freeway south of Webster was empty. Lance’s Impala sat in the middle under the only lamppost. Without a word she pulled alongside his car and flashed a tight-lipped smile. “I could’ve picked you up or something. Well, next time.” He grabbed the handle and pushed the passenger door open. “You don’t want me to see where you live. I get it. But I’ve shown you mine.”

Lance shrugged. “Where you live is fine.”

“I guess, except you probably don’t live with your parents, do you?”

“They’re dead,” he said, getting out of the car. He slammed the door and walked to his car without another word.

“See ya,” she called out the open window. His eyes met hers then he ducked inside his vehicle.

Lance was strange. Chelsea couldn’t tell what his story was except the one thing she did know was he was straight. Although he was respectful toward her, he spent some time watching the other girls at the party. Not in a creepy way, but in a curious manner. She drove off, gravel pinging the undercarriage of her car.

Chelsea had to travel back through town past Ink Addiction to get home. Everything looked deserted at night. She slowed as she drove by the tattoo shop. No lights were on, only the neon tubing around the front window. She craned her neck when she thought she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving around inside.

“You’re losing it, Chelsea.”

She drove another mile north. Headlights turned onto the road and shone behind her. She adjusted her rearview mirror downward, cutting some of the glare. The other car rode her bumper. The road she was on had four lanes, two going in each direction. She slowed and switched to the far right lane hoping the person would pass her. Whoever it was didn’t get the message and changed lanes too. They slowed down then sped up with a roar of their engine. Dread filled her stomach like a lead weight. After another mile of this she’d had enough. The sheriff’s station was up ahead. She floored it and slammed on her brakes at the entrance to the station lot. The driver behind her laid on the horn and swerved around her. Chelsea pulled directly in front of the building. Panting, she parked there until her heart stopped pounding. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the steering wheel.

Someone tapped on the glass. She gasped and clutched her chest.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” a cop asked.

“Someone was following me. I pulled in and he drove off.”

The officer looked concerned. “Do you know who it was?”

“No. I assumed…I’ve got to get home. I think it’s okay now.”

“That was smart of you to come here. If it happens again—”

“If it happens again I’ll report it. Thanks.” Chelsea rolled her window up. When she pulled out of the space, a wave of concern washed over the officer’s face. She wanted to tell him she was fine but continued on her way.

***

Ned’s fingertips grazed Chelsea’s ribcage. She sucked in a breath. Her nerves calmed and her mind drifted when the needle began its assault on her skin. Relief.

“I was surprised to see you this early on a Saturday,” he said, leaning over her.

“Yeah, I uh, I’m going to a beach party in the afternoon.”

“That explains the bikini.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going in the water and I’m wearing a bandage on the tat. Probably won’t even take my shirt off.” Why was she telling him this?

“Good. Hate to see my work ruined.” He smiled and the corner of his eyes crinkled. With the way he kept his hair, in a ponytail with several rubber bands along the length, she didn’t have a clear idea of his age. He looked to be about fifty, although she suspected he wouldn’t appear that old if his hair was short.

“How old are you,” she blurted without thinking.

He chuckled. “How old do I look to you?”

“Fifty?”

Ned barked out a laugh. “Not quite. Forty-five.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s all good. I can still party.”

“I bet.” Chelsea started believing that Ned hadn’t been the one who had followed her two weeks ago. He smiled more today than she’d even seen him before. “The beach party I mentioned…anyone can come. It’s near the old boat house at Lake Webster. My friends are all different ages and stuff.”

“Sounds cool. I might join you later.”

“Yeah. Come.”

Chelsea left the tattoo shop smiling. She called Lance from the car. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it out to the lake during the day, but maybe later tonight. They’d been hanging out lately, although she refused to subject him to her mom and dad again. Lance referred to them as parental units. She laughed every time she thought about the label.

When Ned showed up at the party at eleven, she was already drunk.

“Hey, Ned,” she said with a grin plastered across her face. He smiled as she sidled up to him. She wavered on her feet and he caught her under the arms. They wound up in an awkward embrace. He set her on her feet again. “Thank you.”

“It’s all good. You need another beer.”

“You think that will help…even me out?”

He snorted-chuckled. “It will help with something.”

“It will?” Man, she was wasted. He handed her another can from a six-pack, that was now a four-pack, dangling from his hand.

“I like my women liquored up.”

She giggled. “Are you flirting with me? I gotta warn ya, it’s not gonna work on me.”

His eyebrows rose. “Why’s that?”

“Take a guess, Ned.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I like my women liquored up too.” Chelsea laughed.

“Do you?” The light from the bonfire glinted in his eyes.

An arm came around Chelsea’s shoulder and hugged her from behind. “Hey, Chelse.” Veronica planted a kiss on her cheek and Chelsea flushed. She’d had a crush on Veronica since high school. They were good friends, but nothing more.

“Who’s your friend?” Ned asked.

“This is Veronica.”

“Is she—?”

“Shhh, no,” Chelsea said, shaking her head quickly. Not her girlfriend. Ned winked and nodded as if he didn’t believe her.

Veronica diverted her attention toward another group of her friends. “Catch you later,” she said and ambled away from her and Ned.

“You ever hooked up with her?”

“I’m not her type.”

“Seems like she’s into you.”

Chelsea looked down at her feet. “She’s not. Listen, I…”

“You all right?” Ned asked, nudging her shoulder.

Chelsea took a deep breath, suppressing her tears. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t get emotional over Veronica. Alcohol always put in her a mood. “I wanna get out of here. You mind taking a walk?”

“Why’s she got you so messed up?”

“It doesn’t matter, forget it. Come on, walk with me.” Chelsea took his hand, more for balance than any other reason. Although, she could use the attention right now, even if it was from someone she had zero interest in being with.

They walked to the edge of the water in silence. The lake’s surface looked like black ice in the moonlight. She wet her feet and her toes sunk into the gritty sand with each step. After a while, they rounded a bend in the shoreline. The sand turned to large rocks, making the water’s edge hard on her feet. Ned led her away from the water a little bit. He faced her and his eyes darted to her chest. Her baggy beach cover-up showed off the top of her breasts. The bikini she wore had been a poor choice.

“You ever been with a man?” he asked.

She told him “No,” because she still felt shame surrounding the only time she’d been with a guy. Some things were better left in the past. Goosebumps formed on her skin.

“Ever considered it?” He put his hand to her cheek.

She ducked out of his reach. “No.”

“Then why did you bring me out here?”

“What? I didn’t—I thought you were cool. Guess I was wrong.” She stalked off but only got three strides.

“No you don’t. You’re giving me what I came for.” Ned grabbed her arm and spun her around. He loomed over her, forcing her back to arch. She pushed at his shoulders and tripped on a decaying log. Her teeth rattled and she bit her tongue.

Rolling over, Chelsea scrambled on her hands and knees. He caught her slender ankle, jerking her across the coarse ground on her stomach, pinning her with his heavy weight. The air in her lungs squeezed out. She wheezed as she tried catching her breath.

“No,” she whispered.

Ned yanked on her shorts. “Stoooop!” she cried. What could she tell him that might make him stop? “I’m on my period.”

He let go of the waistband of her shorts. Thank God. The gratefulness faded when he stayed on top of her. His weight shifted as he reached for something.

***

Lance

Lance had shown up to the beach around ten-thirty. A small copse of woods hid him from view. However, the partygoers were busy getting drunk and not paying attention to much of anything that wasn’t right in front of them. He was about to show himself to Chelsea when Ned arrived. Since Lance wasn’t much of a people person and despised Ned, he kept to the shadows.

Chelsea and Ned laughed and drank from cans for thirty minutes before wandering off. This surprised Lance, considering she’d said she wasn’t into dudes. They disappeared around a curve in the shoreline.

He trudged through the thicket and found the two of them talking near the edge of the water. At this area of the lake, the sandy beach led into a rocky shoreline littered with a few washed up fallen tree trunks. Ned held onto her and leaned down over her. She pushed at his shoulders and fell backward over a log. He captured her leg while she crawled away.

Ned pinned her to the ground. “Stooopp!” she cried as he tore at her clothing. There was a pause in the frantic movement. Chelsea said something Lance couldn’t make out. Ned hit her several times with a large rock on the back of the head. Her cries fell silent. He tossed the object into the water with a plunk. Lance wiped his sweaty palms on his khakis and swallowed hard. Ned jumped to his feet. A dock with a paddle boat tied to it stuck out of the water twenty feet away.

Witnessing Chelsea’s murder awakened Lance. Freed him from his own inadequacies. His heart pounded. Adrenaline made him high, powerful, and he hadn’t even been the killer. Imagine if he was…imagine...

The tattoo artist dragged Chelsea’s limp body by the wrist. He waded through the shallow water, got into the boat, and paddled out with her in tow. The boat was barely visible in the dark. After several minutes, water lapped against the rocks on the shore and Ned crawled out of the water. He collapsed onto his back, panting.

Lance licked his lips, tasting the death in the air.

About the Author

A.J. Norris is a lover of all books but her loyalty remains with her first crush; romance. She graduated from a mid-western college with a degree in absolutely nothing to do with writing whatsoever. It wasn’t until well after college when the build-up of voices inside her head became too overwhelming and needed to be let out, that she began to write. She isn’t following a family legacy of writers, only a need to put words on a piece of paper.

A.J. is a movie buff, especially book adaptations, loves watching her son play baseball and communing with other writers. She lives with her family who are extremely tolerant (at least most of the time) of all her late nights behind the computer, clack clacking away.

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/alisajnorris

Twitter:

http://www.twitter.com/AJNorris_Author

Website:

http://www.ajnorrisauthor.com/

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14888581.A_J_Norris

The Tattooed

Maniac’s Virgin

Sinful Delights

Book 1

By Suzi De Beer

***CONTENT WARNING***

This book is not intended for readers younger than 18 years of age.

This book contains dark—and sometimes violent—events that may be triggers for some readers.

Prologue

You know sometimes in small towns everyone knows everything about everyone else? Well that’s kind of how this mess started, instead of our town having the town slut, or whore, or whatever you liked to call her or him.

Our town was different. It had an eighteen-year-old girl who happened to be a virgin, and that girl was me. If someone hooked up the night before, it would be all over school the next day. It would always be the same thing. I was never one to worry about that; school was my main priority.

That was until I started my last year of high school. I thought I would be able to keep my little secret until I finished school, but luck wasn’t on my side. I attended a party with my friends, and that’s where things started getting out of hand. Someone overheard us talking and the next day everyone knew.

That’s when the name calling and the stares started. They called me Virgin Mary and a bunch of other names I don’t feel comfortable sharing.

I was getting sick of it. The whispers behind my back, the stares and laughter as they pointed at me. What I did was probably something very stupid, but I didn’t think twice. I just wanted it to end, so I set out to get rid of my virginity.

And that’s when I met him. A stranger. A man ten years older than me.

A man who worked for my father. We had an agreement: he would be the one to teach me everything I needed to know about sex, but we wouldn’t involve feelings.

It was only physical. No attachments. No emotions. Just sex.

And that’s when the real shit started.

Chapter One

I bit my lip, staring at the rack of books with unseeing eyes. I could feel their eyes burning into my back. A group of girls stood a few feet behind me, whispering and giggling. I’d seen them around school; they’re two grades below me. My eyes darted around nervously; it felt like everyone was staring at me.

“Mom said she wants to pay,” Emma said softly from next to me.

I nodded, following her silently with my head bowed and eyes on my shoes. This was the one thing I hated about the end of the summer, the school shopping a week before school started up again. We used to do it a whole lot earlier, but it seemed that we were running late this year. The shops were filled with families looking for all the stuff. I hated shopping.

We reached my parents a few minutes later. My dad gave me a disapproving stare before walking off. It’s always the same thing with him. No matter what I did, he never seemed satisfied with me. I’d tried my best doing things I didn’t even want to do just because he liked it. He gave more attention to Sam and Emma than he did to me. He would praise Emma for getting fifty percent on a test, but with me, he would always mutter, “You can do better.”

That’s why I was always worried about school and studying until I was sick. I just wanted my dad to be proud of me like he was of my other siblings. Sometimes I wondered if it was because I looked nothing like him. My brother, Brad, was a younger replica of him. While my sisters had his nose and hair color, my hair was lighter and my eyes a different color than theirs. Everyone in our family had dark blue eyes while mine were cornflower blue, a lighter shade that caught unwanted attention.

When I was younger, I thought I looked more like my mother, but as I grew older, my hair and eye color changed.

“Right. We only need to get those plastic files you need, Alia,” my mom said, glancing up from the list.

“And a new school skirt with some shirts,” I muttered softly.

“Maybe if you stop eating all the junk food, we wouldn’t need to buy you new clothes every month,” my dad interjected.

“Michael!” My mom glared at him.

“What?” He pointed at me. “She eats two plates of food and uses her money at school to buy—”

“Shut up!” My mom placed her hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze.

I avoided her gaze as the pain settled in my chest. Self-consciously, my hand moved to my stomach. Shame washed through when I remembered checking my school clothes. The zip and button of the skirt wouldn’t close at all, and the white shirts were too tight over my boobs. Was it really because of all the second plates I ate and the food I got from the school cafeteria?

“You can pay, Alia, and I will go get some shirts. We can get the other school clothes tomorrow. Emma needs to check hers too,” Mom said softly. She took my arm, leading me out of the store and into the mall. “Don’t mind your father, honey.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulders, squeezing me against her side. “You’re growing up. Your body is changing. It’s something men don’t understand.”

“But it’s true.” I glanced up at her. “My skirt won’t fit because I’ve gained weight. My hips are bigger than they were last year. And even my shirts won’t close all the way!”

“Alia, your shirts won’t close because your boobs have gotten bigger.” My face heated in embarrassment. “It’s normal. Clothes shrink as time passes. You’ve had the same clothes since the two schools merged. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight, honey. Nothing.”

I smiled, wrapping my arm around her waist to hug her back. My mom was always there to pick up the pieces my dad left. Sometimes it was a blessing and other times…let’s just say it gets too much. I loved my mom for always being there, but a part of me hated her for not doing anything. She allowed him to walk over me; she stayed silent until he said what he wanted before speaking up. The damage of his words had already been done then, and it couldn’t be taken back.

“We’ll buy two packs of shirts,” she said. “One the right size and the other a size bigger, just in case.”

I nodded, following her silently into the store. Thankfully, it wasn’t as packed as all the other places. I could try on the shirts without whispers following my every move. My intuition told me that my last year of school was going to be hell. And I wasn’t just talking about the worries of the exams and everything; I was certain that the students would make my life hell.

***

I stood silently to the side, watching my mom argue with Emma. She just turned twelve a few weeks ago, and now she thought she knew everything. Then there’s my nine-month-old sister—the newest member of the family—crying because she wanted her pacifier.

My sister, Tyler, was the first born and about nine years older than me. She married Patrick a few months after meeting him at some social event. He’s a pretty cool guy. At first I thought he was fucking scary, but after spending some time with him, I realized he wasn’t so bad. They’d been married for four years now and were trying for a baby.

Then there’s my brother, Brad. He’s four years older than me. He took off right after finishing school, much to my parents’ disappointment. My father thought he would go to college and then police academy like him. Instead, he decided to travel the world with a bunch of friends. We rarely saw him anymore. He still called sometimes, but he barely had time to utter more than a few words.

Then there’s me. Alia, the eighteen-year-old virgin. I was the quiet, shy girl who was obsessed with school. The girl who always worried about what people thought of her.

My sister, Emma, was the total opposite of me. She’s the loud, bubbly twelve year old of the family. When she was happy, she talked, and by that I mean she never shut up.

Sam was, well, Sam. I don’t really know how to describe the baby of the family. She was cute with big blue eyes and curly brown hair. Most of my mother’s time was spent at home with her.

“Alia.” I blinked, turning to look at my mother.

Emma stood next to her with a smug smile tugging at her lips. That smile meant two things: she managed to get me in trouble for something I didn’t do, or I was going to be forced to do something I didn’t want to do.

“Yes?” I questioned softly.

“Take your sister to the shop for me, please.”

My eyes narrowed on my sister. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back against the counter. “Why?”

“Because I’m telling you to.” My mom glared at me. “I’m not telling you again.”

“Fine!” I rolled my eyes, walking down the hall to my room. I pulled on a clean t-shirt and my shoes then grabbed my car keys from the hook on my wall.

“Let’s go, egghead!” I yelled before walking out of the house.

My car was parked in the driveway next to the family car. I quickly got into the car then leaned back against the seat as I waited for my sister. We managed to buy me a few skirts without any hassles. Emma exited the house, zipping her bag shut as she walked toward the car.

“The usual place.” I got my driver’s license when I turned sixteen and got the car as a birthday gift from Patrick. I loved having a car, especially when I wanted to go out with my friends. Since my dad worked late most times and my mom was so busy, I didn’t have to rely on them to drive me around.

Each of us had chores to do around the house. We got a monthly allowance based on that. So I thankfully didn’t have to worry about fuel money and other monthly stuff. I parked the car at one of the small local shops, a place that knew us all. My eyes fell on the girl at the cash register as we entered. She gave me a small smile, but I knew what that smile meant.

“What do you want to buy?” I asked my sister.

She shrugged but made a beeline for the candy aisles. Of course that’s what she wanted to buy for school. That girl ate too much candy. We’d been in the shop for a total of two minutes when the whispering and stares started. There were a few kids from school. I hated being the center of attention. Hated having them talk about me behind my back. Whispering about my lack of knowledge about sex. Not even the fact that one of my best friends was gay had made the talk of the town. I was tired of being the talk of town.

I didn’t want to be a virgin anymore. But I couldn’t just randomly walk up to a guy and say, “Hey, I’m tired of being a virgin. Will you fuck me?”

Hell no! I wanted it to be special at least, something to remember and not something I would regret. I’d never had a boyfriend in my life; well, I didn’t think dating in second grade counted. I was a virgin in every aspect of the word. But I knew for a fact that losing my virginity wasn’t going to be so easy or the way I wanted to lose it.

Though, one thing was for certain: I was definitely losing my virginity before my last year of school ended.

Chapter Two

School.

Buildings filled with thousands of students, where academic things were pumped into our brain. Things I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be using at all once we finished school. It’s the one place I used to love but now hated. Not because of my father, but because of the bullying. It was even worse there than it was in public places. Reporting it to the teachers wouldn’t help. My parents would be called, and that would make my dad even more disappointed in me.

No, I couldn’t risk that at all. It’s a new school year, and hopefully, it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d learned to ignore the rude comments and the stares from them. Besides, this year was going to be hard. Last year our teachers wouldn’t stop stressing on the fact that this year was important. I watched my brother go through this; I definitely knew what to expect.

I let out a low groan as I followed the line of traffic. I switched on my flicker to turn into the school yard. In front of me were three other cars. One car was blasting music pretty loudly. I wondered how much my friends had changed.

Delilah left for Puerto Rico last year on the day school closed; apparently, she had some family over there she wanted to visit. Kate went to visit her mother with her son. And Dane, Dane just did what we did every year after the school closed.

I parked my car in a free space before grabbing my bag from the passenger seat. Getting out of the car, I made sure to lock it. I pulled my skirt down to make sure my new uniform was spotless before pulling my school bag onto my back. Smiling at some students I knew, I made my way back to the gate where I would wait for my friends.

This had been our routine since the two schools joined. There were originally two high schools in this town. I wasn’t really sure why they did it, but they decided to join the schools together four years ago. That’s how I met Kate.

A bubbly green-eyed redhead with a body to die for, she was a few inches taller than me with a thin waist and long legs. Kate was pretty much down to earth. She wasn’t one for violence and would steer clear of it. Don’t get me wrong, she would fight if she had to, but she preferred not to.

“Alia!”

My head snapped up, lips pulling into a smile as I saw Delilah walking toward me. Her slim body was dressed in the usual lime green and white uniform. Only the last year students got to wear the white pullover and sweater. Her blonde hair was tied up in some complicated hairstyle, and her brown eyes were focused on me. She was absolutely gorgeous, and she knew that.

“How was your holiday?” I asked softly, pulling her in for a hug.

She dropped her bag, rolling her eyes at me. “Amazing! The guys, the food—I loved everything, especially the guys! Damn, they certainly know how to entertain a girl in bed.”

“Okay,” I exclaimed, with heated cheeks, before she could say anything else. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“I don’t need to ask how your holiday was. By the look of things, nothing has changed.”

I frowned at her but was saved from saying anything else when Kate arrived. She was sending us both a wide smile. Kate was the proud mom of a beautiful three-year-old little boy. Long story short, she got drunk and slept with a stranger then ended up pregnant. We talked about everything that happened while Delilah was away as we waited for Dane to arrive.

He stepped through the gates just as the bell rang. Hugging each of us, he glanced at me for a second longer but said nothing. One of the teachers appeared, urging us to hurry along for the assembly on the bleachers. We dropped our bags off in one of the classrooms then followed the flow of students.

“Hey, I got to go to the bathroom first,” Kate suddenly said, tugging my arm.

“Me too,” I added. “Save us a seat.”

We changed direction, heading for the buildings instead. Kate hooked her arm through mine as we walked. She seemed happier than normal, which concerned me. It was the first day of school. What the hell was she so happy about? Reaching one of the container bathrooms, we entered. Kate instantly entered a stall while I leaned against the wall. I stared at the ceiling while I waited for her to finish.

“We have a new cop in town,” she said as she opened the door. “And I tapped that!”

“What?” I pushed myself off the wall, stepping out of the bathroom.

Kate walked out behind me, letting out a low laugh. “Your dad is chief of police. Didn’t he tell you about the new deputy that arrived in town?”

I shook my head, but she spoke again before I could utter a word.

“Fuck! You should’ve seen him, Alia. His body is to die for. He’s covered in tattoos!”

“So?” I asked softly. “What does that have to do with me?”

“You’re such a prude! I had sex with him, and damn. He certainly knows how to make a girl explode over and over—”

“Shut up, Kate!” I turned to glare at her. “I really don’t want to hear about your nightly escapades. Okay?”

“Jeez, Alia! You—”

“What are you girls doing here? The opening is about to start,” a teacher called from a couple of yards away.

I spun around, making my way toward the bleachers. She could talk to Delilah about it; she also enjoyed having sex with random strangers. They could share their stories over a damn cup of tea. Why did she always have to tell me about it? I didn’t understand what the fuss was about, anyway. What’s so great in having sex with a stranger?

“I’m sorry, Alia,” Kate said as she appeared by my side. “You’re my best friend, and I just wanted to share some highlights of my summer with you.”

“I know. I just don’t want to hear about your sex life anymore. Hearing it from Delilah is enough.” Kate laughed but said nothing as she led me toward the seats that were saved by our friends.

Chapter Three

The first day of school always sucked. Especially the assembly that happened before school actually started. We had to sit on the bleachers in the sun for an hour while they gave us speeches. The principal would introduce the new students and sometimes teachers—which was a rare thing for this town. As the priest continued to talk, my mind started to trail off.

It was weird thinking of Kate having sex with a stranger, but I couldn’t stop my mind from going down that road. What was so pleasurable about sex? Why did people like it so much? Of course I’d searched it on the internet—once or twice—but I could never get so far as to watch porn. It made me feel strange even thinking about it. Taking things into my own hands wasn’t really an option since I was never home alone.

I’d never masturbated. Not once. Last night I placed an ad on a website I found. I would rather have sex with someone from out of town than someone I knew. If word got out…I didn’t even want to think about what could happen. The money I would get from selling my virginity could always be used for something later on. Plus, I didn’t think I would make that much.

“I’d like you all to meet the newest member of our team, Nathan Pierce,” the principal announced.

I blinked, snapping back to reality. My eyes were instantly drawn to a man walking from the buildings. He wore black slacks with a white button down and a light blue tie. The man managed to look professional without looking snobby. His dark brown hair was combed back neatly from his face.

Pain flashed through me when I got jabbed with an elbow in my side. I turned my head to glare at Kate, but she was too focused on the man walking across the field. I glanced at Dane, getting an eye roll from him. I giggled before turning back to the front. The man now stood next to the principal, facing us. His hands were buried in his pants pockets. From what I could see, his skin had a nice golden tan.

“Mr. Pierce will be teaching the seniors this year. I would like you all to give him a big welcome to our school and to our town.”

I clapped along with the other four hundred and something students sitting on the bleachers. A few more words were uttered before we sang the school anthem. After that, we were divided into our grades and sent to separate places.

“I wonder if he’s married,” Delilah muttered. “Alia!”

I blinked, turning to glance at them. “What?”

“Who do you think will get him in bed first?” Kate asked, pointing a finger between herself and Delilah.

“I’m not even going to answer that,” I said.

Both of them were gorgeous, and they knew that, but making bets like that was something I wanted no part off. Sometimes I wondered how we all became friends. They were the total opposites of me, but we got along well. Kate and I were closer than Delilah and me. I got along well with Dane as well, but there’re some things I couldn’t tell him.

The gymnasium was stuffing when we entered it. One of the teachers ordered some boys to get the windows open before we would get started. I glanced around, taking in the old stuff. This place was once used as a dance studio and for gymnastics but not anymore. The mirrors in front were broken and so were the wooden floors in some places. After an hour we were all divided in our classes for the next year.

Kate and I were in the same class while Dane and Delilah were placed into two different classes. We grabbed our bags before making our way toward our home room. It was on the second floor in the back buildings of the school. Once the door was unlocked, we all scrambled inside. I quickly made my way toward the back of the classroom. Kate took a seat next to me and gave me a bright smile. The teens started to talk rather loudly with each other as we waited for the teacher. I pulled out my phone to check my emails. Most of it was from my social media accounts.

I was just about to give up when one caught my eye. It was from the website I posted the ad on. I quickly glanced at Kate before opening it. It stated that I had a new message. Exiting the email app, I typed in the address in my browser.

“What you doin’?” Kate whispered in my ear, making me jump.

I quickly locked my phone before looking up at her. “I was just checking my emails.”

Before she could say anything, the teacher entered. He started handing out packets with the school rules. Next he gave us our list of things we would be doing this year. We each got a calendar with important dates marked on it. By the time that was finished, it was time for the first period. I didn’t even get a chance to check the notifications.

It seemed like forever before lunch finally started. We got our handbooks for the first three periods, along with a list of things we’d be doing. We were also told what books to bring to each period.

“I’m going to the cafeteria. You coming?” Kate asked when she joined me.

“Sure,” I muttered.

I gripped the straps of my bag over my shoulders as I followed her. It was a routine. When one of us got money, we bought the whole group something. I stood aside, watching the other students, as I waited for Kate. Five minutes later, Dane appeared at my side.

“Figured I’d find you here,” he said.

“You know it,” I muttered. “How was your summer?”

“Same as usual. Nothing interesting happened. How was yours?”

I shrugged. “The same as usual.”

Nothing else was said as Delilah arrived. She dropped her bag at our feet before walking to Kate. I found myself studying them as they stood there. How many guys had they slept with? How many times had they experienced an orgasm? What would my first time be like? Would it hurt like I’d read about?

So many questions flashed through my mind, making me feel a little disoriented. This year was supposed to be all about school and not about my virginity. I frowned. It’s always just been about school, not about me. I’d spent most of my life trying to keep my parents happy. Not anymore. I thought it’s time to start paying attention to myself. This year was going to be about me.

***

I was the first to enter the classroom. Kate was talking to a group of boys outside. The way they were looking at me made me feel really uncomfortable, so I decided to leave them. It’d been an interesting day, but I honestly couldn’t wait for it to end. My school shirt was clinging to my back, not to mention the sweat trailing down between my boobs. I hated school uniforms so much.

“Good afternoon.”

My head snapped up. Mr. Pierce was sitting behind his desk watching me. I managed a small smile and a mumbled greeting. My feet carried me straight to the back where the window seat was. Taking a window seat was a habit that came in handy when the classes were boring. Nature was more interesting at times.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Pierce asked softly as he leaned forward.

“Alia Dune,” I said. I hesitated by the table, not sure if I should sit or stand.

“Welcome to my class, Miss Dune. Now tell me, where are the rest of them?”

I pointed to the door. Rolling his eyes, he got up and stepped outside. I watched through the window as he called everyone inside. Seconds later the classroom was almost full and filled with loud chatter. My eyes fell on Kate when she entered. Instead of taking a seat at the back with me, she took one right in front of the teacher’s desk. So she wasn’t kidding about getting into his pants. What a way to start the year.

“Right.” Mr. Pierce clapped his hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Good afternoon, class. Please take your seats.”

I fell onto my chair before pulling out my notepad and a pencil. There were already two pages full of things that needed to be done by Monday. He started introducing himself and explaining what we would be doing for the year. I had to say that having him as an English teacher wouldn’t be so bad. He was more likable than Mrs. Funker, and no, there was no fun in her class. Get it?

“Right, since I’m new here, I decided that we should get to know each other a little better before we start working,” he said, glancing around. “Each of you can ask me a question which I will answer, and in return I’ll ask you one. Let’s start.”

Hands shot up. He took a while before pointing to a boy at the back. I took the time to study him again. His eyes were green, maybe hazel; it was hard to see from here. Though now I understood why Kate and Delilah made a bet. He was good looking. I turned to look out the window. There’s only one more period left before the end of school, and I still hadn’t checked the message.

Risking a glance at the teacher, I pulled my phone out of my shirt pocket. It felt like forever before the browser finally opened. I quickly typed in the web address, glancing up as I waited. Mr. Pierce was talking to a group of girls at the front of the class. I glanced down again, clicking the notification bar.

“Alia.” I jumped, a wave of fear washing through me when I glanced up to find him standing next to my table. He held out his hand, pointing to the phone. “Switch it off and give it to me,” he ordered softly.

I quickly turned it off before handing it over to him with reluctance. He pocketed it as he turned to face the other students. “Let this be a warning. I do not tolerate cell phones in my class. If I find you with one, I will take it and give it in at the office. You will pay to get it back. Understood?” He turned back to face me. “Come see me after school.”

***

“Do you want me to come with you?” Kate asked as she packed away her books.

I shook my head, giving her a small smile. “It’s fine. I know Derrick must be waiting for you.”

A strange expression flashed over her face, but it was gone a second later. She muttered a bye before walking out of the classroom. Zipping my bag closed, I swung it over my shoulder before following her. I felt faint the closer I got to his classroom. What’s he going to do? He seemed like a reasonable teacher, so I didn’t think he’d make me pay for my phone. After all, it’s the first day of school.

I stood in the doorway for a few seconds before knocking on the door. He was sitting behind his desk reading some papers.

“Come in, Alia,” he muttered. Mr. Pierce stood, giving me a small smile before making his way toward me. For a few seconds, he only watched me. Then he pulled out my phone, holding it out to me. “You don’t seem like someone who breaks the rules. I checked your records, and they’re very impressive. You like this subject?”

“Yes,” I said softly. Reaching out, I took my phone from his hand, giving him a small smile.

“Don’t let me catch you again. You’re lucky it’s only the first day or you would have paid to get it back.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pierce.” He nodded, walking back to his desk.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Alia,” he dismissed me.

Gripping my phone tightly, I walked out of the classroom and toward my car. I dropped my bag on the passenger seat before letting out a loud breath. When I meant I would make this year about me, I didn’t mean to get into trouble on the first day of school. He wasn’t as bad as I thought he’d be after he took my phone. I switched on my phone and threw it onto the seat as I started my car. The traffic was hectic now that school’s out. As I waited, I picked up my phone. For the third time today, I logged into the website. This time there were no distractions to stop me from opening the message. I could feel the color drain from my face as I read it. My hands started to shake. I reread it again.

Does your father know what his little girl is up to?

Chapter Four

It took everything in me to just concentrate on driving home. Quivers racked my body as fear continued to wash through me. If my father found out what I did, he would definitely fucking kill me. I drove through town blindly until I reached home. I was happy to see no car in the driveway, which meant nobody was home. Parking my car, I grabbed my bag before getting out and rushing toward the front door. I unlocked it then hurried down the hall toward my bedroom.

Dropping my bag onto the floor by my bed, I quickly made my way over to my desk. As I waited for the laptop to start up, I changed clothes. The web page opened easily, but I was surprised to find most of the ads deleted. I pushed it aside then clicked on the notification bar.

Who are you?

Seconds passed. Then minutes, but still I received no reply. The message I had received earlier was still there. I heard the car in the driveway just as the laptop pinged, notifying me of a message. I glanced up but clicked on the message. It was from someone else.

Why did you post a fake picture? We’ll soon know how you really look, Alia Dune.

Sweat beaded on my upper lip as I stared at the words. I clicked on it, ready to reply, but the message suddenly disappeared. I logged off and then on again but still no messages. My ad was still on the page. I added a fake picture with a fake address, but everything else was the truth. What have I done?

“Alia?” my mom called from somewhere in the house.

I jumped. Slamming my laptop shut, I stood and made my way out of my bedroom. I found her in the hall holding a sleeping Sam.

“Can you put your sister down, please?” She held her out towards me. “Your father has invited his new deputy to dinner, so I need to get started on it.”

“Sure,” I muttered.

I carried my baby sister into her room and carefully laid her down. Making sure she was covered and that the baby monitor was on, I walked out. I found my mom in the kitchen unpacking groceries. She was muttering under her breath—a habit she had whenever she was nervous. Without a word, I stepped forward and started packing everything away. Once done, I stood there expectantly.

“Before you start on your homework, can you check to see if the living room is clean?” she asked softly. “Emma’s at your aunt’s house. Your dad will pick her up on his way home. I can’t believe he gave me such short notice!”

I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. I really didn’t want to hear her cursing my father as she cooked dinner. Everything was in place in the living room. Mom probably cleaned this morning before leaving. I walked back into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. My eyes fell on the laptop with dread. On shaky legs, I walked toward it. I had another message from the same person who messaged me first.

What are you willing to do to ensure he doesn’t find out?

Who are you?

I typed the question again. After five minutes when there was no reply, I exited the webpage and shut off my computer. I walked over to my school bag and picked it up. Minutes later, I was lying on my bed surrounded by books and papers. I had managed to complete half the homework by the time my dad arrived home, mostly because I got distracted by a group chat someone had made. My eyes snapped up when my sister ran past my room toward her own.

I sat up, collecting everything before getting up and placing it on my desk. The laptop drew my attention once again. I bit my lip as I debated on checking the messages. Curiosity won out. I sat on the chair and opened my laptop. My fingers were fidgeting nervously with the papers I had placed on it earlier as I waited for it to start up. The notification bar instantly lit up when I entered the web address.

Meet me at Café Randé in half an hour.

I reread the message a few times before typing a reply. The reply came faster than I expected. With a beating heart, my fingers hovered over the keyboard.

How will I know who you are?

I typed and sent it before I could change my mind. I waited with a beating heart for the next reply. It seemed to take longer, and I feared that he wouldn’t answer me, but he did.

When you get to the café, tell the redhead waitress that you are there to meet Stephen.

Okay. I was going to do this. I was going to meet a stranger at a place I’d never been before because I didn’t want my father finding out. I just hoped I made it back home again. Typing a quick reply, I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my phone and keys. Both my parents were in the kitchen when I entered. My eyes fell on my father; he was staring at me with narrowed eyes. For a second I thought he already knew, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t possibly already know.

“I need to get some work from Kate,” I told them. “I’ll be back before the deputy arrives.” At least I hoped so.

“Okay, honey,” my mom said.

I walked away before he could say anything. Arguing wasn’t an option at the moment. The sooner I could meet that man, the better. Just thinking about what my father would do made me feel like bursting into tears. I sat in the car for a few seconds before typing the name into my GPS. Another few seconds passed before I found the courage to start the car. We were meeting in a public place. Everything would be fine.

***

When I pulled up in front of the café twenty minutes later, I could feel my stomach drop. The place was public all right, but it was almost completely empty. I thought of just driving away but I instantly pushed the thought away. Sucking in a deep breath, I got out of my car. A bell above the door dinged as I entered. It looked really cozy. The walls were each painted a different color that complemented each other. There were oak tables with chairs for at least five people along with red vinyl booths placed along the walls. A counter was in the middle with barstools around it. Behind it was the kitchen, and to the left were two doors with signs that said, “Staff only.”

“Welcome to Café Randé. Table for…?” A tall redhead walked up to me.

I was taken aback by her bright blue eyes and blood red curls. She stood about a foot taller than me with a slim body and curves that made me feel jealous. Planting on a wide fake smile, I glanced around again.

“I’m here to meet…Stephen.” Her eyes widened as her smile slightly faded. Straightening, she told me to follow her before turning and walking away. We walked to the left of the café where most of the booths were. She led me to the back and to the very last booth that was cut off from the rest of the place by a glass wall with beautiful colorful designs on.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Her voice had dropped, making me shiver slightly. Instead of being friendly like she was when I entered, her voice was as icy as the blue eyes staring at me.

“Water, please.” I watched as she walked away before sliding into the booth, making sure to face the front of the café.

Music was playing softly through hidden speakers. A family sat by the front window and an elderly couple to the left. Some gruff-looking guy sat by the counter drinking coffee. There were a total of three waitresses—the red head, a brunette, and an elderly woman.

“Thank you.” I gave her a small smile as the glass was placed on the table. I didn’t receive any smile in return, which made me frown. Aren’t they supposed to be cheerful? Rolling my eyes, I pulled my phone from my jeans pocket to text Kate. She replied in a few seconds.

Smiling, I pushed my phone back into my jeans pocket. The bell dinged again, which snapped my attention to the entrance. My breathing hitched as the man entered. He was tall, about six foot three, and dressed in dark washed jeans that clung to his muscular thighs. A tight white short-sleeved shirt covered his muscled chest. His arms were covered in sleeve tattoos. I could even see some peeking out from the shirt on his neck as well. His hair was light brown, messy, and still slightly wet. From what I could see of his face, he had a square jaw and a straight nose.

The redhead walked up to him with a bright smile. He smiled as well, showing off pearly whites. Then he leaned down, kissing her. My eyes widened. I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks. I quickly looked away to stare down at the table. When is this guy going to get here? My nerves were starting to get out of control.

“I knew the picture was fake.”

With a gasp, my eyes shot up. My breath got caught in my throat. I shuffled to my feet, gripping the booth. My knees were shaky and it took great effort for me to keep them locked so I didn’t slide to the floor into a puddle. It was the man who entered the café just seconds ago. The man who kissed the redhead. The man with at least a hundred or so tattoos covering his tanned skin.

He was a lot taller than me. His large frame hid my small one from view. Holy shit. My eyes snapped up to his face and his seemed to do the same. His lips pulled up in a smirk, which snapped my attention to them. They were pink. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top, but damn, I wanted to taste those lips!

“Alia Dune.” A shiver raced down my spine as he spoke. His voice was deep and slightly husky with a faint accent.

“Y-yes.” I dropped my eyes, my body shaking in fear.

“I’m surprised you came,” he said softly, making my head snap up.

“I didn’t have a choice.” I tried to make my voice as icy as possible, but it didn’t work. My voice came out shaky and filled with fear.

His smile dropped, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sit down, Alia.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I sank down into the seat again. Stephen slid into the booth opposite me. He placed his hands on the table, making my eyes drop to them. They were big and well groomed. How would they feel against my skin? Stop! What the hell are you thinking? He’s a stranger! A stranger who knows I’m a virgin that wants to sell it.

The redhead appeared by our table, breaking me from my thoughts. “Would you like anything?” She was talking to Stephen, not even sparing me a glance. Bitch.

“Would you like something?” My eyes snapped to him. Surprise filled me when I found his eyes on me. He raised an eyebrow in question, making me realize he asked me that.

“N-no, thank you.”

“Two coffees,” he said to her.

“It will be out in a minute.” She walked from the table, swaying her hips to draw his attention, yet he wasn’t looking at her.

His eyes were focused on me. Instead of looking away, my eyes locked with his. The air around us changed. His light green eyes widened slightly, and I could see his body tensing.

“Jesus.”

Chapter Five

I felt weak. My stomach was turning and my hands were shaking. I could feel the sweat breaking out all over my body. How was it possible to be so attracted to a stranger? My eyes dropped first. I couldn’t take the intensity from the peculiar green depths anymore. He cleared his throat as he shifted slightly on the seat. The spell was broken but the tension still surrounded us. I was attracted to a fucking stranger. A hot, tattooed stranger. Oh my gosh! I moved to the edge of the seat. I was ready to hightail it out of here, but the waitress appeared. I froze, watching as she placed the coffee cups in front of us. A small plate was placed down that contained some sugar packets.

“Can I get you anything else?”

My eyes snapped up to her. She was leaning slightly forward, which made the top of her boobs visible to every eye. She was smiling at him—her blood red lips pulled up into a small smile. Well, that’s not very professional.

“No,” he said, dismissing her.

I glanced at him to find him watching me with a smirk. With a huff, she walked away. My eyes followed her for a few seconds before turning back to him. He was busy mixing some sugar into his cup. I did the same. My hands clutched the cup as I waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. I sucked in a breath before raising the cup. A gasp fell from my lips when the coffee splashed over the rim and onto me. It burned through the material of my shirt straight to my skin. The cup clattered onto the table, spilling even more coffee, but I couldn’t care less. I gripped my shirt to pull it away from my skin.

“Are you okay?” He was by my side holding out a white serviette. Tears burned my eyes as the pain intensified. I was aware of him yelling something and then gripping my arm. He pulled me up and down a hall where he pushed open a blue door.

“Take off your shirt.” My eyes snapped up to his. “I need to check how bad the burn is. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

He wouldn’t do anything in a public restroom, right? My face was burning with embarrassment as I pulled the t-shirt over my head. I stood in front of a sexy stranger with just my pants and an old pink bra. My skin was still burning. His hands gripped my hips, and before I could open my mouth to question him, he had picked me up to place me on the counter.

He opened the tap next before sticking his hand beneath the water. I sucked in a sharp breath when he pressed his wet hand against my chest. He did that a few times until droplets dripped into my bra. I kept my eyes on his face when he bent slightly, his eyes falling to my chest.

“It’s not so bad, but it’ll hurt for a few days,” he muttered. “The best option would be to get some ointment from the pharmacy.”

“T-thank you.” His eyes caught mine but only for a second before dropping.

It was like he suddenly wanted to get away from me. He grabbed some paper towels then held them out for me. I took them from him and gently pressed them against the burn. It wasn’t hurting as badly as it did a few minutes ago.

“She did that on purpose,” I muttered. It was burning hot even though there was milk in the cup.

When he didn’t answer me, I looked up to find him standing with his back to me. A wave of shame hit me. Of course a man as hot as him wouldn’t be able to look at someone like me. My eyes dropped down my body, making an unfamiliar feeling fill me. The fat around my stomach and hips was clearly visible. I pushed myself off the counter and quickly bent down to pick up my shirt.

“How old are you?” I paused with the shirt halfway over my head.

“Eighteen.”

“Really?”

I nodded and pulled the shirt down before risking a glance up at him.

For a few more minutes, he stood like that before turning around to face me. His eyes instantly dropped before locking with mine. He was tense again. His hands clenched at his sides as he stared at me.

“Why did you post that ad on the website?”

“Because I want to be prepared when my crush finally makes his move,” I lied easily.

He raised his eyebrow. “Really?”

I nodded. He suddenly moved forward, making me step back. My back hit the wall, but thankfully he stopped his movement.

“Let’s see if I understood you right. So you were willing to have someone pay you for sex so you can impress some guy?” Stated like that, it made it seem bad. It was the first thing I was able to come up with when he asked me that. “Let’s say that’s the real reason—”

“It is!”

“—you want to sell something so rare. What if the person who offers you a large sum of money is some old guy?”

“I heard the older they are, the more experience they have,” I whispered.

My heart escalated at a dangerous rate when he stepped closer again. There were only a few inches of space between us. This man was towering over me, which made me crane my neck to stare up at him. I sucked in a breath and instantly wished I hadn’t. I got a whiff of his cologne. It smelled delicious and addictive. Trying to be as discreet as possible, I sucked in another breath.

“It’s not always true.” I blinked. “Even older men take without giving. They don’t last long, and they definitely don’t have the patience for foreplay.”

“And you do?” The question fell from my lips before I could stop it.

He chuckled. “Of course I do, Alia.”

“How old are you?”

“That’s not a question you bring up in a conversation like this,” he said as he stepped back.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned against the wall. He had walked across the small space to lean against the door. His back was turned to me once again. With an oath, he turned to face me again.

“You want to learn about sex?”

“Yes.”

“About what, exactly?”

“Everything,” I whispered.

For a few minutes, he only watched me silently. His eyes seemed to darken as he watched me. After what felt like hours, he finally spoke up. “I’ve deleted your ad from the website. You want to learn, so I’ll teach you, but we need to make a few things clear.”

“Okay.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. Before he could, someone knocked on the door.

“Stephen?” I felt the anger in me rise when I heard her voice. The bitch who served us. I wasn’t a violent person, but she made me want to beat the shit out of her. “I’m ready to go home now. My shift is finished.”

I needed to get out of here. Pushing myself off the wall, I stepped around him and opened the door. The redhead stood there dressed in a short skirt with a tight crop top. I felt the jealousy from earlier return as I stared at her. She was glaring at me. Without saying a word, I pushed past her and walked back into the café. Our table had been cleaned while we were in the bathroom. I glanced around to find most of the people had already left.

“Miss?” An elderly lady touched my arm. “I’m sorry about your coffee.”

“It’s okay. It’s nothing serious.”

“Still…you don’t have to worry ’bout paying for it, dear. It’s on the house.”

“Thank you.” I gave her a small smile before making my way out of the café.

I was almost to my car when a hand closed around my arm. Stephen stood in front of me, looking grim. “We haven’t finished talking yet.”

“Your girlfriend is waiting.” I glanced at the redhead standing at the entrance. “I would really appreciate it if you don’t tell anybody about the post. You don’t have—”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You kissed her!”

His lips twitched. “If you looked closely, you would have seen that I kissed her on the cheek, not on the lips.”

I frowned. The image of them flashed through my mind again. “She wants to go home with you,” I pointed out, making him roll his eyes.

“A lot of girls want to go home with me,” he said softly. Without warning, he reached out. I sucked in a sharp breath when he traced a single finger down my cheek. I was aware of eyes burning into us, but all I could focus on was him.

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“So I can get your number. We still need to talk about a few things before your lessons start.”

***

I stared at the black dress in horror. Dresses were definitely not on my list of clothes to impress my father’s deputy.

“You have five minutes!” my mom called from the hall.

I winced. After I got home she told me she had gotten me something special to wear for tonight. I definitely didn’t fucking expect it to be a dress. A black dress with a plunging neckline. It was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t me. No way in hell was I wearing this. I walked over to my closet and pulled open the doors. I grabbed a hanger before turning to the bed. I hung it in the closet then grabbed a pair of dark wash jeans and a light blue formal shirt.

“Two minutes!”

Pulling on the jeans, I hesitated before grabbing the shirt. The material was thin, but I doubted my bra would be visible. It was a new bra I got during the summer. Kate had forced me to buy it, and I regretted it. The doorbell rang. Father would definitely be angry at me for being late. I quickly did up the buttons and then pulled on my shoes. Next I brushed my hair before pulling it up into a high ponytail. I added some lip-gloss before stepping out of my bedroom. I hated meeting new people. The voices from the living room made me slow my steps. I sucked in a breath before entering. My mouth fell open. The color drained from my face as I stared at him.

“Ah, this is Alia,” my father said.

He turned around, the smile freezing on his face as our eyes locked.

“Alia, this is my new deputy, Stephen Daniels.” He stepped forward with his hand held out. I swallowed. This can’t be happening, I thought as I stared up at him.

“Nice to meet you,” he said as his fingers closed around my hand. A shiver raced down my spine when our skin touched. His were dry while mine were slightly sweaty. I pulled my hand from his when my mom entered with Sam in her arms.

“And this is the baby of our family.”

Half an hour later, I was forced to sit next to him at the table. His scent drifted across to me, which made me even more nervous. I wiped my hands on my thighs as I waited for them to pass the salad. Stephen was dressed in the same clothes as earlier; the only difference was the fact that his hair was dry now. I added a spoon of salad into my plate before passing the bowl to him. Our fingers brushed, making my stomach turn. From the corner of my eyes I saw him tense at the contact. Why was he acting like that?

My mom kept the conversation going during dinner. Stephen clamped up every time she would ask him something about himself. He would give her a brief answer before steering the conversation into another direction.

“Alia can show you around.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“Since Stephen is new in town, you can show him around,” my mom said with a bright smile.

“I have school,” I said, narrowing my eyes on her.

“That has never stopped you from bunking it,” my father said. “You’re not worried about your schoolwork, since your grades have obviously been dropping—”

“Michael!” My father was watching me with cold eyes. Once again he managed to ruin dinner. I pushed my half-eaten plate away before standing.

“Sit down, Alia.”

“Why?” I tilted my head slightly. “You don’t want me here anyway. Nothing I do is ever good enough for you! I’m sick of trying to make you happy.” I sucked in a breath. “Thank you for dinner, Mom. It was delicious.”

Chapter Six

School was a rush. We got forms we needed to fill in and stuff that needed to be signed. I had a pile of homework that needed to be done. It was my plan to spend the afternoon doing that, but I was surprised to find Stephen there when I got home. A forest green Ford truck was parked at the curb in front of the house. At first I thought it was one of my mom’s friends. Then I entered the house only to find him sitting in the living room. Apparently my mom was serious when she said I had to show him around town.

“Does your father always act like that?”

I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes. “Only with me.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. It was something I wanted to know as well. Why only me?

“Where are we going?” I asked after another few minutes of silence passed.

“To my house,” he muttered.

My eyes snapped to him. “I thought I was supposed to show you around town.”

“I already know my way around town.” He glanced at me. “Your mother just assumed I didn’t. Besides, this is the perfect opportunity to finish our talk.”

Before I could say anything else, the truck slowed. I glanced up at the house. It was simple, a two story with a small front porch and high walls surrounding it. Stephen parked the truck in the driveway before killing the engine. That strange feeling was filling me again. I was shaking. The door opened, making me jump.

My gaze locked with his before dropping to the hand he held out. I placed my hand in his, allowing him to help me out. Instead of dropping my hand like I thought he would, he gave it a squeeze. Stephen silently led me to the front door. He unlocked it then stepped aside for me to enter first.

The bottom floor was an open-plan. A spacious living room was to the left with the stairs that led to the second floor to the right. In front of me was a kitchen with an island and a bar separating the kitchen from the dining room. Sliding doors led out onto a wooden patio. Beyond it was the backyard, which held a pool and a barbecue area to one side. It was clear that this place belonged to a bachelor. The couches were black leather and the TV a flat screen with surround sound. My eyes moved to the stairs. There was a balcony overlooking the bottom floor.

“Are you hungry?” Stephen asked as he walked past me.

“No.” I stood rooted in place for a few more minutes before following him into the kitchen.

He was bent over, searching through the fridge. My eyes dropped to his butt. He had a nice butt—tight and firm. Heat flooded my cheeks. Stephen straightened then turned to face me with a blue Tupperware bowl in his hand.

“This is some of Nathan’s dinner. Or I could make you a sandwich?” He gestured to the bread on the counter. I shook my head.

“You don’t have to—”

“Look, I know you don’t know me, and I get that you’re scared, but I’m not going to hurt you, Alia.”

“I’m not scared.” His eyes snapped to mine. “I’m nervous. I know you won’t hurt me.” The bowl was placed down.

He turned to face me fully. “And how do you know that?”

“I feel safe and not threatened.” Stephen silently stared at me.

He was frowning down at me with this odd emotion in his eyes. Shaking his head, he muttered something under his breath before turning around. I watched silently as he heated the food and then grabbed two plates. He walked to the table to place them down before walking back to grab some forks. I hesitated but then walked over to the table to take a seat. Stephen appeared at my side but this time with a tall glass of ice water. He took a seat opposite me then held out the bowl for me. My stomach grumbled, a reminder that I barely ate anything today. I eagerly dished some of the pasta and gravy onto my plate before handing it back.

“You said we needed to go over a few things before we get started.”

“Eager, are we?” he asked softly. My cheeks heated. “We have about an hour before I have to get you home. Eat, then we’ll talk.”

After finishing, we moved into the living room. I clutched the glass as I waited for him to sit down. He surprised me when he took a seat next to me with only a few inches between us. Again he watched me silently.

“Stephen?”

“Yes?” His lips twitched.

“Can we start?” I glanced away from him toward the wall. When he didn’t answer me, I turned to look at him. He was smirking.

“This will be a mutual agreement,” he said softly. “No moonshine and roses or any of that shit. I don’t want any feelings involved, Alia. It’ll only be sex. No one will know about this apart from the two of us.”

“So I can’t even tell my friend?”

“No,” he leaned forward, “no one. According to the law, you’re still a minor. If it gets out, I could go to prison for rape. I’m nine years older than you. Do you understand?” I nodded silently as I calculated his age in my head. “We won’t be having sex until you’re ready.”

“Why? You’re supposed to teach me—”

“And I will.” His eyes narrowed. “There are a lot of things we can do that doesn’t include sex. You’re a virgin. Let me ask you this—have you ever been kissed on the lips?” My eyes dropped from his as embarrassment filled me. Of course not. The guys tended to stay clear of me just because my father was a cop. That’s probably the reason why I was still a virgin.

“Hey.” A hand cupped my cheek. I was forced to look at him. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. I like the fact that you’re completely innocent and that I’ll be the one to teach you.”

“You don’t think I’m a prude for still being a virgin?”

“No.” Stephen smiled. “I believe that everyone has a reason for doing the things they do. You have a reason for still being untouched, and I won’t judge you because of that. Is that the reason you placed the ad?” I frowned at him. “I’m not stupid, Alia. I’m a trained cop, so I’m pretty good at figuring out when someone is lying.”

“They call me the Virgin Mary. Or prude or anything else they can think of. I’m sick of it. It hurts.” Tears filled my eyes as I thought back to the months of abuse. “I don’t want—” I broke off when the front door suddenly opened.

A wave of fear washed through me when the familiar man entered the house. He froze in place when our eyes locked. Stumbling to my feet, I opened my mouth, but not a word escaped. Stephen stood and then turned to face the intruder.

“Ah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d be busy for a while.”

“We finished earlier.”

“Alia, this is my stepbrother, Nathan,” he introduced us.

“I know who she is.” Mr. Pierce walked into the kitchen. “She’s one of my students.” Oh boy. I had a feeling that things just became even more complicated. My teacher’s stepbrother was going to be my sex educator. I glanced between them. I didn’t see how we were going to hide this from him. They lived together, so he was bound to figure things out. I just hoped he didn’t tell anyone.

***

The humid breeze blew gently through my hair. We were sitting under a tree on the hockey fields. Most of the smokers sat here during break. Delilah lit another cigarette before leaning back. Kate was typing away on her phone with a frown between her eyebrows. My mind trailed back to yesterday. Stephen had driven me home shortly after Mr. Pierce arrived. When he pulled up in front of my house, he had asked me if I had something to do this weekend. It was arranged that I would meet him at his house on Saturday morning.

My eyes moved to Dane. He was leaning against his bag with a book. I leaned back against the tree. A part of me was curious to see what he had planned. I was nervous too. My phone vibrated in my shirt pocket. I pulled it out and quickly unlocked it. There was a message from an unknown number. My heartbeat started to increase when I opened it.

Homework Assignment: You need to be comfortable with you own body. At some point you’re going to get naked. I want you to make a list of things you like about your body and things you don’t like. I’ll see you on Saturday at ten.

The message ended with a winking face. I frowned. What kind of assignment was this? How did he know I was uncomfortable with the way I looked? I licked my lips as I opened a blank word document. Might as well start since I had nothing else to do. I glanced at my friends again. They were all busy with their own thing. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. With another few seconds of hesitation, I finally started typing.

***

School couldn’t end soon enough. Mr. Pierce’s class was really awkward. I caught him watching me a few times during it. He had the oddest expression on his face. Thankfully, he didn’t mention anything about yesterday. We were dismissed at the end of the day with a reminder that tomorrow would be sport. I followed the line of cars driving out of the school grounds.

My mom wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. She usually visited my sister on Thursday after picking up Emma. My sister and Patrick lived just on the outskirts of town. I loved their house. It was big and spacious with a pool and an extra flat at the back. I switched on my flicker then turned down the street that would lead me to town. I wanted to get Kate’s son something for his birthday, which was in two weeks. Buying him something was going to be hard since I had no clue what to buy a three-year-old boy.

My phone vibrated. I frowned as I pulled it out of my pocket. Slowing the car, I glanced down. I had a message from an unknown number. It wasn’t Stephen since I saved his number after the text earlier. Stopping the car at the stop sign, I opened the text. A shiver of fear raced up my spine. It was a photo of me leaving the café the day I met Stephen.

I told you we would find out what you really look like, Alia Dune.

“Oh god.” I cupped my mouth with a shaky hand. This can’t be happening. Dropping my phone onto the seat, I shifted gears before driving forward. Doing any shopping now wasn’t even an option. What if they were following me right now? My eyes darted to the rearview mirror. It only took a second. I took my eyes off the road for a second when it all happened. When I looked back, a little girl stood a few meters from the car, holding a red ball.

A scream fell from my lips as I turned the steering wheel to the right. My foot stomped on the brakes. The car slid on the road before coming to a stop when the front hit a tree. My body jerked painfully, causing the seatbelt to dig into my skin and my head to hit the steering wheel. I groaned as I leaned back against the seat. Something was trailing down the side of my head. My body ached everywhere and my ears were ringing. The door was suddenly pulled open. I stared at the boy through blurry eyes. Black dots blurred my vision. He was talking, but the words didn’t register. My seatbelt was unlocked, and then he was pulling me out of the car. I couldn’t stand. I was shaking badly and my legs felt like jelly.

“Someone call an ambulance.”

Chapter Seven

I was sitting on the sidewalk with my back against the tree and a cloth pressed to the side of my head. The boy who pulled me out of the car was hovering a few meters away. A bunch of people had gathered to stare at the car and at me. Some had even taken photos. It didn’t bother me—not at the moment—since all I could think about was the little girl. Did I hit her? Was she okay? A shudder raced through my body when an image of her small bloodied body on the road flashed through my mind.

The sound of approaching sirens penetrated my mind. I glanced up just in time to see a police cruiser parking across the street. Please don’t let it be my father, I muttered in my head. My eyes dropped again when the door opened. Father would kill me. I would be an embarrassment to him if word got out. I was pretty sure the whole town already knew about it.

Commotion from across the street caught my attention. I glanced up just in time to see a woman storming past the people. She was crying and screaming as she fell down to her knees. I hit her. Oh god! Legs dressed in dark blue trousers appeared in front of me. I glanced up and instantly wished I hadn’t. My eyes locked with peculiar green ones.

“You saw what happened?” he asked the boy, who nodded. “Go to that officer there and give him your statement.”

I swallowed the lump that was suddenly in my throat. Stephen crouched in front of me. Without warning, he reached out and gently pulled my hand away from my head.

“Let me see that,” he muttered. “You need to go to the hospital.”

My attention was focused on the woman instead of him. I killed someone. I was going to rot in jail for murder.

“Alia?” My eyes snapped to his. Tears filled my eyes as reality started to set in. “Hey, you’re okay. There’s no reason to cry.”

“S-Stephen, the g-girl.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “I k-killed—”

“No.” His voice was hard. “She’s fine. You didn’t kill her, Alia. Like you, she’s in shock. There’s not a scratch on her.”

“The ambulance is here,” a man said. I glanced up at him. “Are you going with her or…?”

“I’ll go with her,” Stephen said softly. “You can handle things here.”

“Of course,” the man muttered before walking off.

“Come on.” Stephen gently gripped my arms as he straightened. The moment I was on my feet, the black dots appeared again. My ears started ringing as my stomach dipped. I thought I was going to be sick. “Alia?”

The world faded into darkness.

***

Everything ached. I wished I never woke up in the first place. My head was pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat. The light above me was too bright. I felt numb. My limbs felt extremely heavy, and my mouth felt dry.

“Alia.”

I blinked rapidly before turning my head slowly. I winced. Stephen stood beside the narrow hospital bed. Lifting my hand, I pressed it against the side of my head. There was a bandage.

“You had to get at least five stitches,” he muttered, “and you have a slight concussion, but nothing too serious.”

I had to get stitches. I was thankful I was out when they did that because I hated needles. Shifting on the bed, I groaned as pain shot through me. It wasn’t so bad, but I had a feeling it would be worse once the medicine worked out of my bloodstream. My eyes slowly moved back to Stephen. He was watching me silently with a hard look.

“The girl?”

“She’s fine, like I told you earlier.” He ran a hand down his face. “I know that you’re in pain, but I need to get your statement.”

I pushed myself up onto shaky hands before sitting up straight. My head was spinning again, but it faded after a few seconds. When my vision was cleared, I glanced around the room. It was a typical hospital room. With a small sigh, I turned my head to look at Stephen again. His eyes were focused on my legs instead of my face. I followed his gaze only to find my school skirt had ridden up almost completely. At least I wasn’t flashing him my totally unattractive gym shorts.

“I only took my eyes off the road for a second. When I looked back, she was in front of the car. I turned the wheel and hit the brakes, then the car hit the tree,” I told him. When his eyes snapped up to my face again, I turned to face him with my legs hanging off the bed.

“You didn’t see her run into the street?” I shook my head. “What were you looking at?”

I bit my lip. This could go two ways; I could either tell him about the message I received or keep it to myself while I tried to figure out who this guy was. “I was looking in the rearview mirror,” I whispered. The same fear I felt when I received the message flashed through me.

“I got a message just before the accident.”

“What type of message?”

“I—” My voice cracked. “S-Stephen.”

“What message, Alia?” His voice was cold. “Damn it, Alia.”

The next second, I found myself in his arms. I was pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around my back. I wanted to blame the tears on what happened earlier, but I knew it was because of the fear. I did something stupid. All I was thinking about was losing my virginity and not what trouble it could cause. Because of my own actions, I was in trouble.

“I w-was so stupid!” I gripped his shirt tighter as tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Tell me what happened, Alia.”

I pulled back from him. My eyes were focused on his chest as I wiped the tears away. For the first time, I became aware that he was wearing his uniform. The dark blue material clung to his muscular chest. His utility belt held everything he needed, including handcuffs. For a few seconds, my mind trailed off. I could feel my cheeks heating as I imagined him handcuffing me to the bed. Delilah had talked about it once.

“Alia.” I blinked. “What are you thinking about?”

“Handcuffs,” I whispered. “My friend says it’s pleasurable when you’re tied to a bed and your partner has full control over you.”

“Do you want to try that?” Stephen asked softly. “Would you like to be tied up while I kiss every inch of your body?”

My breath caught in my throat. I could feel the dampness between my legs as I imagined his lips on my body. Stephen stepped closer. He gently pushed my legs apart so he could step in-between them. His scent surrounded me. The air around us had changed again—just like at the café. My eyes locked with his. They had darkened and appeared almost black. I was waiting in anticipation for his next move, and he didn’t disappoint. He cupped my cheek with a slightly shaky hand. Stephen placed a finger under my chin to tilt my head up to his. His thumb softly traced my bottom lip, which made me part my lips. For a few seconds, fear washed through me, but I barely had any time to think about it. His lips brushed mine—barely touching. I sucked in a shaky breath before allowing my eyes to flutter closed. He pressed his lips harder against mine. They closed around my bottom lip gently as he pulled back slightly. His teeth nibbled gently before his tongue soothed the pain. A whimper fell from my lips. My stomach was quivering as the same unknown feeling from before filled me.

“Follow my lead, baby,” he whispered before smashing his lips on mine again. I reached out to grip his hips when he stepped closer.

My legs were pushed further apart as Stephen wrapped an arm around my waist. He pressed my body against his as he deepened the kiss. My lips parted so his tongue could slip inside. He stroked my tongue slowly before exploring my mouth. I moaned, gripping his hips tighter as I pressed my chest against his. We were so caught up in the kiss that we didn’t hear the door open until it was too late.

“You fucking bastard!” Stephen was ripped away from my body before I could react.

With wide eyes I stared at Patrick, who was pressing Stephen against the wall with an arm pressed over his neck.

“Patrick!” I struggled off the bed. My legs gave way beneath me, but before I could hit the ground, hands gripped my arms.

I glanced up at him. Patrick was frowning down at me with disapproval. I licked my lips then gave him a smile. His frown deepened. Rolling his eyes, he guided me back to the bed before lifting me onto it. My eyes darted to Stephen. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes focused on Patrick’s arm. I followed his gaze to the dark tattoo on his wrist.

“So,” Patrick muttered, “who’s going to fill me in on what I just walked into?”

“He was taking my statement,” I muttered, trying to keep my face straight, but I knew my heated cheeks gave us away.

Patrick scoffed. “Right. We’ll stick with your story. I’ll pretend I didn’t just walk in on two people who were about to fuck in a hospital room.” I groaned as I covered my face with my hands.

“Why do you always have to be so embarrassing?”

“Because I can.” He winked at me. “I’ll go see if you’re ready to go home.”

My eyes followed him as he walked toward the door. With his hand on the handle and the door halfway open, he paused to glance back at us. A shiver raced down my spine when he gave Stephen the look.

“You better keep it in your pants, copper. If I find out you’ve been sticking your dick in my little sister’s pussy, I’ll kill you.” Silence followed his departing words.

The room felt stuffy, but I knew it was only because of my heated cheeks. Patrick was the most straightforward person I knew. He didn’t hesitate to speak what’s on his mind, and he just proved that. I risked a glance at Stephen. To my amusement, he was watching me with a smirk. His green eyes were shining in amusement.

“Little sister?”

“He’s my brother-in-law.”

Nodding, he pushed away from the wall to walk closer to me. Like before, he pushed my legs apart to stand between them. I jumped when he placed his hands in my thighs. Our eyes locked as he slowly moved them higher. My breathing had sped up. The skin where he had touched me felt tingly. I closed my eyes when he captured my lips again. The kiss wasn’t as heated or as long as our first kiss.

“Your lips are addictive, baby.”

“Yours aren’t so bad either,” I whispered.

Stephen chuckled. “Have you started on the list yet?” I nodded. “Good. We’re still on for Saturday, but before we do anything, you’re going to tell me about that text message.” My eyes widened. I had completely forgotten about it. My mind trailed back to the text message and the photo. I couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through my body. They had taken the photo without me realizing it. What if they’d been following me all this time? Stephen said that he had deleted the ad from the website. How did they get my number and my address?

“Stephen—” The door was pushed open before I could continue. He quickly stepped away from me with a frown. Swallowing, I watched as Patrick entered the room again. He glanced between us before locking eyes with me.

“You’re all clear. Let’s go. Your mother is worried sick.” He held open the door. “Couldn’t say that much about your father.” The words stung.

Chapter Eight

I wiped my sweaty palms over my shorts as the car turned off into his street. My heartbeat escalated when his house came into view. A few seconds later, we pulled up in front of it. I reached out to open the door but paused when Patrick placed his hands on my arm. Sucking in a breath, I glanced at him.

“Does your father know about this?”

“What do you think?” I muttered with a smirk.

He rubbed a hand down his face before glancing at the house then back to me. “Look, you’re old enough to make your own choices, so I’m not going to interfere, but I need to know this. Is this what you really want?” I frowned at him, ready to question him, but he shook his head. “I was your age once, so I understand the urges and the curiosity that comes with it. I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“We’re not having sex,” I muttered, leaning back against the seat.

“Not yet.” My cheeks heated. “I know what I walked in on, Alia, and I could see the attraction between the two of you. You’re inexperienced, but he’s not. Like I said, I’m not going to interfere, but if he does something that makes you scared, I want you to leave. I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life, and I don’t want that to happen to you. Promise me if things get out of hand and he scares you that you’ll end it.”

I nodded as I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. My own father would never have said anything like this to me. He would never say anything, period! He was always busy looking for things to yell at me for. Like the accident. The moment he got home, he was in my face about it. Mom didn’t even stop him when he yelled at me. He didn’t even ask me if I was okay or if I needed anything.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

My eyes fell on him only for a second. If I looked at him any longer, then I would definitely burst into tears.

“Do you want me to come pick you up?” I paused. “Just call me when you’re done. I told your mom we’d be working on the car.”

A tear dripped down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away. Giving him a small smile, I grabbed my bag before climbing out of the car. I was conscious of his eyes on me as I walked to the front door. The doorbell echoed around the house as I pressed the small button next to the door. My hands clutched the end of my shirt nervously when the door opened.

“Hi,” I whispered, doing my best to avoid his eyes.

“Hi,” he muttered. “He’s not going to come in here and skin me alive, is he?” My lips pulled up into a smile as I raised my head to look up at him. Stephen was watching me with unreadable eyes.

“Not if you don’t give him any reason to.” His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. Stephen stood aside for me to enter the house. I watched as he waved at Patrick before closing the front door. Our eyes locked when he turned around.

“How’s your head?”

“It’s fine. Don’t you have to work today?”

“Not until two.” He stepped toward me. “I didn’t get a hello kiss.” Stephen turned his head and tapped his cheek with a finger.

I blushed but leaned up on tiptoes to press my lips against his cheek. He turned his head at the last minute, which made my lips connect with his instead. An arm wrapped around my waist to press me against his body as he deepened the kiss. By the time he pulled away, I was clutching the material of his shirt tightly. He nibbled my lips before pulling back completely.

“Would you like something to drink?” I shook my head.

Stephen walked into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water. I was waiting for him to start asking about the message, but he didn’t. Instead, he took my hand and led me up the stairs. We turned left and then walked down a hall until we reached a door that stood open. The room was almost as big as the living room downstairs. Directly in front of me was a queen-size bed pushed up against the wall with black wood bedside tables on either side. Each table held a simple lamp. To the left was a small sitting area with a flat screen mounted on the wall. There was also a window seat at a large window, which gave a perfect view of the backyard. To the left of the room was a door that led into a bathroom and another into a closet. The walls were painted white, and the furniture was in dark colors. There were no photos or anything personal about him in the room.

“Did you make that list?” he asked softly.

I turned to face him. He stood in front of a desk that was littered with papers. A computer took up the left side of it.

“Yes,” I muttered. “I finished it last night.”

“Good.”

Without sparing me a glance, he made his way into the bathroom. I only had to wait a minute before he walked out again. Stephen carried a floor-length mirror that was just a few inches taller than him. He placed it in front of the bed before turning to me. I walked toward him with uncertain steps. His hands were placed on my shoulders to turn me around in front of him.

“Tell me what you hate about yourself.”

“I h-have big breasts.” I swallowed. My face heated when his eyes caught mine in the mirror. “M-my stomach isn’t f-flat or muscled. I h-have t-thick thighs and l-love handles.”

“Is that all?” I nodded.

“Now you’re going to listen to me.” His hands trailed down my arms. I gasped when he suddenly cupped my breasts. “These are perfect because they fit into my hands perfectly.” One hand slid over my stomach. “I love the curve of your stomach.” His hands gripped my hips. “And I love the fact that you have love handles. Then I don’t have to worry about breaking you when we have sex.”

My breathing was starting to speed up as I imagined him gripping my hips while he pounded into me. Heat pooled between my legs. Without warning, Stephen cupped my sex. I sucked in a sharp breath as my eyes snapped to his. His free hand gently gripped mine and then guided it behind my back. My mouth fell open when he pressed my hand against the bulge in his pants.

“This is from only looking at you,” he whispered in my ear. “You are absolutely fucking beautiful. You don’t need to have big tits or a flat stomach. You are fucking perfect just the way you are.” His hand pressed against my sex harder.

One of his fingers was pressing directly over a spot that made pleasure flash through my body. I whimpered as my knees weakened. Stephen pulled back but only to sit on the edge of the bed. He gripped my wrist and gently tugged me toward him. Before I could react, I found myself straddling his lap. I gripped his shoulder to keep myself from falling backwards.

“Have you ever masturbated before?” His question completely caught me off guard. It wasn’t something you just right out asked someone.

“No,” I whispered, letting my eyes drop.

“Good,” he muttered. “I’ll be the one to take your first orgasm.”

His lips brushed mine, and then he was kissing me just like he did on Thursday at the hospital. Stephen gripped my hips to pull me closer as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I pulled back to suck in air. His eyes briefly caught mine before dropping. Then he leaned forward to brush his lips against my neck. My stomach tightened when he hit a spot that made my toes curl. I moaned, fisting his shirt again as he bit down before soothing the pain with his tongue. My breasts felt heavy, and there was a pulse beating between my legs. I was aching for him. The feeling was unfamiliar and slightly scary. Stephen gripped my ass, making another moan fall from my lips.

“Take off your shirt, baby,” he whispered hoarsely.

He didn’t wait for me to follow his instruction. His hands gripped the end of my shirt and raised it up. I raised my arms for him to slip the material over my head. Stephen dropped it onto the floor before wrapping an arm around my waist. He shifted our positions before I could say anything. I found myself lying on the bed with Stephen hovering over me.

“Stephen?”

“Take off your pants,” he ordered. “I want to see if your panties are as sexy as your bra.”

My face was as red as a tomato. Without my mom realizing it, I had managed to sneak out of the house yesterday to go to the mall. Of course Kate had driven me there and had helped me to choose. We decided on a blood red lace push-up bra and matching panties. It felt strange at first, but after a while, I found that it was comfortable. I wanted to see his reaction. I wanted to know if he liked it or not. I hooked my thumbs in the band of my shorts before lifting my hips. The material easily slid down my legs. I kicked them off all the way before focusing my attention on his face. I pressed my thighs together when I found him staring. The look on his face was worth the embarrassment of buying the underwear.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “It’s even sexier than the bikini I got you.”

“You got me a bikini?”

“Yes.” He smirked at me. “We’re going swimming. The heat is fucking killing me.” Any other words I wanted to say were swallowed in a gasp when he leaned forward. His lips closed around my lace-covered erect nipple. My back arched when he suddenly started sucking. I gripped his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other. A hand slipped between my legs, making another gasp fall from my lips.

“You’re fucking soaking,” he whispered against my breasts. “Spread your legs, Alia.” He didn’t have to ask me twice. I spread my legs wider apart. Stephen gripped my inner thigh and guided my left leg over his. Our lips smashed together with urgency. My hips were rising with the movement of his hand. One of his fingers was pushing the material of my panties between my lower lips. He broke the kiss to place kisses over my jaw to my ear, where he nibbled my earlobe. I moaned, tugging on his hair as he started sucking on a spot behind my ear. His lips trailed to my collarbone then to the curve of my breasts.

“S-Stephen.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, please.”

“I know,” he breathed, “I know.”

He bit down, causing my body to jerk. The pain was soothed by his tongue before he started sucking on the spot he bit. I tensed when I felt my panties being pushed down slightly. He pulled back to look down at me. His green eyes were filled with heat. My body slowly relaxed back into the mattress. Raising my hips, I gave him the permission he wanted to slip my panties off. I was feeling self-conscious, but Stephen made me forget about it when his hands slipped between my legs again. He lightly brushed the dark blonde curls before cupping my sex.

My mouth fell open in a silent moan when his finger brushed against my clit. It made my stomach tighten in pleasure. The finger dipped between my pussy lips before finding my clit again. I reached up to grip his wrist as he started circling the bud. He would speed up and then slow down when I was close to the edge. My muscles clenched. I wanted something inside me. I needed it. Stephen leaned up on his elbow. He pushed the leg that was over his a little higher up so my knee was bent. Then he finally slipped a thick finger inside me. He circled it around slowly again before moving it back and forth.

My eyes fell closed. Words fell from my lips as pleasure shot through my body. He was sucking on my nipples as he entered another finger. His thumb pressed against my clit. I was thrusting my hips along with his movements. He was speeding up now. My stomach tightened.

“Please. Please. Please.” He bit down on my nipple. “Ah!” I cried out.

My body arched off the bed as an orgasm flashed through me. My legs slammed shut, trapping his hand between them. I was breathless as I fell back. A light sheen of sweat covered my body. My body was still jerking in pleasure, but I guessed that had something to do with his thumb still stroking my clit.

Chapter Nine

Things were going great.

School was the same as it always was, but the work was starting to pile up now that the sport was over. I found myself unable to concentrate on some days. All I could think about was him and his hands and lips on my body. It was a regular thing for me to meet him on Saturdays. We spent most our time in his bedroom. Stephen had kissed every inch of my body, but I’d never even seen him completely naked. I was itching to touch him, but every time I would bring up the topic, he would distract me.

Patrick hadn’t mentioned Stephen again, but I could tell that he was worried. As for my father—he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid me. My mom was her usual self, but she spent most of her days at the local hall with some new friends she made.

Today was one of those days where I found it hard to concentrate. School ended about half an hour ago. I was lying on my bed with my homework scattered around me. My math book was open in front of me. I wrote out the next sum and then grabbed my calculator. As I was about to enter the equation, my phone vibrated. I paused, glancing at it, but chose to ignore it.

Kate has been acting strange lately—very unusual. I caught her staring at me once during our class. The look in her eyes made me shiver—her eyes were cold and emotionless. Shaking my head, I concentrated on my homework. I slammed the book shut and pushed it aside before reaching for the next book. As soon as I opened it, the doorbell rang.

I groaned but pushed myself up off the bed. It was when I reached the front door that I remembered what I was wearing. The fan in my room didn’t help much to cool me down, so I took off my shirt. I glanced down at myself. I’d seen a lot of girls at school walking around in their sports bras when they’re practicing. I was wearing a black sports bra with a pair of swim shorts. The doorbell rang again. Rolling my eyes, I pulled the door open. My breath caught in my throat when I looked up. “What are—?”

My words got cut off when he stepped forward. Before I could finish my sentence, his lips were on mine. I gripped his shoulders as Stephen parted my lips with his. A moan slipped from my mouth into his as I felt his erection pressing into my stomach.

“Are you alone?” he breathed after breaking the kiss. I raised an eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before kissing me?”

“Probably,” he said. His lips pulled up into a smirk when I nodded at him.

Stephen leaned down to press his lips against mine again. The kiss was laced with an urgency that made my knees buckle. He wrapped an arm around my waist while his other hand hooked behind my leg to hoist me up against him. The door was slammed shut a second later, and then we were moving. His lips trailed down my neck before moving up to my lips again. I gasped when my back came into contact with something soft. Stephen pulled back to stare down at me. He had carried me to my bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” I asked softly after sucking in enough air.

“I was in the neighborhood.” He smirked.

My eyes dropped when he started to undo his utility belt. He looked fucking sexy dressed in his dark blue uniform. I sat up and then moved to collect my books and place them on my desk. When I turned around, Stephen was sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes focused on the place where my ass was seconds ago.

“It’s rude to stare,” I whispered.

“I can’t help it,” he muttered, licking his lips.

My stomach clenched. Our eyes locked, and I broke eye contact to look down at his crotch. Before I could change my mind and allow the fear to take over, I knelt between his legs. His body instantly tensed when I placed my hands on his thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to touch you,” I said softly as I reached out to cup him. His hand shot out and caught my wrist before I could touch him. My eyes snapped up to his.

“If you touch me now, I’m going to fuck you, and that will end badly,” he whispered. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all day?” I shook my head. “Being inside you. I want to fucking strip you bare and throw you onto the bed and then bury myself deep inside you.”

My face heated as the images played through my mind. It was hard to imagine his dick when I’d never seen it before. My eyes dropped again—I swore the dent had gotten bigger.

“If you didn’t come here to—” I trailed off. “Why did you come?”

“To bring you something,” he muttered.

I frowned at the bag he held out. It didn’t ever register that he was carrying a plastic bag. I took it from him but hesitated to open it. When I didn’t open it right away, Stephen took it from me again. He pulled out a grey box the size of his palm. Dropping the bag, he started to open the box. He tipped it over into his other palm.

My eyes were glued to the contents that spilled out. There was a packet of three small AA batteries and a silver sheath with something else—a small metallic bullet.

“It’s called a bullet vibrator,” Stephen muttered. He opened the pack of batteries and took one out before dropping the others aside. I watched as he unscrewed the bottom of the bullet before inserting the battery.

“I have to go out of town for a few days, so I thought I’d give you something to practice with.” My face was burning. “You have to make sure you clean it after playing. There are instructions in the box.”

He pressed the pink button at the bottom. It instantly started vibrating—every time he pressed the button, the vibrations changed. I took it from him when he held it out. My eyes trailed over it as I studied the bullet. It was small, and it would be easy to hide from my parents and my sister.

“Thank you.” I smiled up at him.

Stephen cupped my cheek and then leaned down to capture my lips again. I gripped his thighs as his tongue swept inside my mouth to stroke mine. A moan fell from my lips, and without thinking it through, I moved my hand to cup his arousal. His whole body tensed. Without warning, he pulled away from me. My face fell when he stood and walked toward the door. Stephen paused and then glanced at me over his shoulder.

“I’ll call you when I’m back in town.” And then he was gone.

***

My frown deepened when the conversation died down the moment I approached. I shrunk back when Kate looked up at me; her eyes were filled with hatred. Delilah was frowning with her lips pursed, and Dane was looking at me with shocked eyes. I dropped my bag before taking a seat.

“What?” I asked when no one made a move to say anything.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Kate whispered. My eyes snapped to hers—the hatred was replaced by pity. Pity for what?

“When were you planning on telling us?” Delilah questioned before glancing down at her phone again. “The prude is fucking the bad boy cop!”

“W-what?” I grabbed her phone when she said nothing else.

The color drained from my face as I stared down at the screen. Staring up at me was a photo of me and Stephen. It was taken the first time I spent Saturday at Stephen’s house. We were outside by the pool—it was after we climbed out. I was wearing the bikini he had gotten me, and he was wearing a pair of swim trunks. Stephen was smirking down at me with one hand on my hip. I scrolled down. The second picture was one of us in the pool. My body was wrapped around his as he kept us above the water by holding onto the side of the pool. The third photo was taken when he showed up at my house. It had a clear view of us kissing in the doorway and then disappearing into the house. Tears burned my eyes as I moved to the last photo.

This one was taken from my bedroom window—Stephen was sitting on the edge of the bed, and I was kneeling between his legs.

“So? Why the hell didn’t you tell us? At least I know from experience that his dick is pretty big,” Kate said, making my eyes snap to hers.

Stephen was the guy she had sex with that night? The same guy she bragged about? I sucked in a breath and then handed Delilah her phone back. Panic flashed through me when I glanced around to find the other groups watching me.

“Alia.”

I swallowed and then stumbled to my feet. Grabbing my bag, I made a run for the bathroom. The tears started falling the moment the door slammed closed behind me. My knees gave way beneath my weight, making me slide down the wall. I buried my face against my arms as I began to sob. Stephen was going to be so mad. He didn’t want anybody to know, and now the whole school knew—not even to mention the town.

“Oh, Alia,” Kate whispered as she entered the bathroom. I looked up at her when she took a seat next to me. “It’s going to be okay.”

I shook my head. “It’s not going to be okay, Kate. It’ll never be okay again.”

Kate hugged me silently as I continued to cry. Once my tears had dried, I stood to wash my face. I closed my eyes and took deep, calming breaths. Panicking about this wasn’t going to make anything right. I needed to do something before the pictures spread.

“Will you cover for me?” I asked her as I wiped my face. “I need to go home.”

“Running away isn’t going to make it all go away,” she muttered with an edge to her voice.

I glanced up at her but said nothing. Instead, I grabbed my bag and walked to the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Everyone was staring at me. I could feel their eyes burning holes into my back as I walked toward my car. It took a few tries before I managed to unlock the door and get inside. Tears threatened to spill again as the images flashed through my mind. I was half naked in all of them!

I ignored the security guard as I drove through the gate and out of the schoolyard. Getting into trouble for leaving school so soon was the furthest thing from my mind. I couldn’t believe he slept with Kate. My heart started beating erratically when I parked my car in the driveway. My father’s squad car was parked in front of the house. Why was he home so early?

It took a lot of effort to get out of the car and make my way inside the house. Father was sitting in the living room with his eyes focused on the front door. He stood when I entered. The look in his eyes made me shrink back from him.

“Da—”

The sound of the slap echoed around the silent house. A cry fell from my lips as pain flashed through my cheek. He took another step closer, but he didn’t hit me again. Instead, he gripped my upper arm painfully. I stumbled after him as he dragged me down the hall and into my bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind us before spinning me around. I was scared of him.

“I knew you’d be home early today,” he muttered. “I caught one of my officers staring at half naked pictures of you. Is this how we raised you? To post half-naked pictures of you all over social media?”

“N-no, Dad, I didn’t—”

“Shut up!” he yelled. “I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior anymore. I’m sick of you embarrassing me.”

I found it difficult to breathe when he started unfastening his belt. My mouth had dried up and my legs were frozen in place. He pulled his belt from his pants before grabbing my arm again. I was forced onto my stomach on the bed while he used his hand to keep me still.

“Dad, please don’t! I didn’t—” I cried out when the belt came down.

“You’re an embarrassment to me!” The belt came down on my upper thighs. “An embarrassment to this damn family! Your mother should’ve just allowed that bastard to take you.”

My tears had dried down by the time he finally stepped back. The back of my legs—my upper thighs—and my butt felt numb. In fact, my whole body felt numb, from fear and from pain. I didn’t move when he sucked in a breath and called my name or when he walked out of the room. A few seconds later, the front door slammed shut. When the shock of what happened died down, I pushed myself up.

Pain shot through my body when I stood. My legs felt like jelly, but I ignored it and walked out of my room. I used the walls for support until I reached the front door. I couldn’t take the risk to climb into my car—I was shaking too badly to even take that risk, so I walked. I kept on walking until I reached the familiar house, but I knew he wasn’t home. Stephen was still out of town.

I wanted him—I needed him to hold me right now. I stumbled up the steps and then slid down the wall. With my knees pulled up against my chest, I finally allowed more tears to fall.

Chapter Ten

I pressed myself tighter against the door as the rain started falling. Coming here was a mistake. I knew he wouldn’t be home, but I wanted to see him. I needed to see him. What would he do if he knew about those photos? Would he blame me?

The sound of a car pulling up made my body tense. For a moment, my hope flared, but it instantly fell as I remembered he didn’t live alone. It could be Nathan coming home. What excuse could I possibly give him? I heard the car door slamming shut over the rain. Seconds later, curses and footsteps approached.

“Alia?”

My head snapped up. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes as I stared up at him. Stephen stood a few feet away with a bag in one hand and something else clutched in his other. He said my name again before dropping the bag and reaching out to me. He gripped my arms and pulled me to my feet.

“Alia, what happened, baby?”

I shook my head. My hands clutched his shirt tightly as fresh tears started to fall down my cheeks. Stephen wiped them away gently. He muttered something under his breath. Seconds later, he led me inside the house and towards the couch. I winced as I sat down. My eyes followed him as he walked back outside, only to return with his bag. He dropped it next to the front door then slammed it shut. The moment he sat down next to me, I pressed myself against his side. His familiar smell filled my nose, and that just made me cry harder. Stephen hesitated then pulled me onto his lap. His lips brushed my forehead.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”

When my tears dried, he pulled back slightly. Stephen placed a finger beneath my chin to force my eyes to his.

“What happened, Alia?” I shook my head. More tears threatened to fall. I managed to stop them but not the shivers that racked my body.

“Tell me what happened,” he said again. One of his hands started rubbing my back.

“Y-you didn’t c-call m-me,” I stuttered.

“I just got back. I was planning on calling you after taking a shower.” He pulled away slightly to look at my face. “What happened, baby?”

“S-someone took p-photos of us,” I whispered. “I didn’t—” I turned to stare up at him. “It wasn’t me, S-Stephen. I didn’t—”

“Shh,” he whispered, moving the hair from my face. “I know it wasn’t you, baby. I saw them. It couldn’t have been you.”

A tear dropped down my cheek. He used his thumb to wipe it away. Without saying a word, he gently placed me back on the couch. I watched as he made his way into the kitchen. Stephen grabbed a glass and poured something into it. He walked back over to me. Crouching in front of me, he held the glass out.

“Drink this, baby,” he said softly.

I took the glass from him but hesitated as I smelled the strong smell of alcohol. He gave me an encouraging smile. What did I have to lose? I pressed the glass to my lips then downed the golden liquid. It burned all the way down my throat into my empty stomach.

“I need you to tell me what happened.”

“He hit me,” I whispered.

“Who? Who hit you, Alia?”

“M-my father.” My eyes caught his. “He thinks I uploaded them. I didn’t, but he didn’t listen to me. He was so m-mad, and he hit me w-with his b-belt.”

“Jesus,” he whispered. “Let me see.”

I shook my head as fresh tears brimmed in my eyes. After realizing he wouldn’t let it go, I slowly rose from the couch. Stephen straightened and stepped back, so I turned my back to him. My hands shook as I clutched my skirt and slowly raised it. Silence hung heavily in the air. I could feel him staring, and the longer he did, the more self-conscious I became. Finally he stepped forward and pulled my skirt back into place. He gently turned me around to face him. I couldn’t look him in the eyes again.

“Come on,” he said, taking hold of my hand.

Stephen led me up the stairs to his room. “I’ll be right back.”

I stood there awkwardly as he made his way into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silent room. Licking my lips, I walked toward the bathroom. Stephen was pouring something into the water. He closed the taps after making sure the water was the right temperature. Stephen straightened and then turned. He froze when his eyes fell on me. Without a word, he took hold of my hand and pulled me further into the bathroom.

“I’m going to make you something to eat while you take a bath.”

“I’m not really hungry,” I told him.

“You need to eat something. You’re shaking like this because you’re hungry,” he said, and to prove his point, he raised my hand.

“I’m really not hungry, Stephen.”

He pursed his lips but said nothing. Dropping my hand, he stepped around me and walked into his bedroom. I thought he was angry at me for refusing to eat. Stephen entered the bathroom again with a t-shirt in his hand. Dropping the shirt by the basin, he turned to me. Our eyes locked when he lifted the pullover over my head. He dropped it aside then took my phone out of my shirt pocket. I stayed silent as he unbuttoned the shirt and pushed it off my shoulders. Once I was naked, he led me over to the bath. I winced when I lowered myself into the warm water. The water burned my bruised skin.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he muttered. “Take a bath, and when you’re done, we’ll talk.” With a small smile, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. I listened but heard no sound coming from the room. Grabbing the soap, I started washing myself. When I was done, I decided to stay in the hot water for a few more minutes. The pain had faded, but the moment I stood, it was back again. My movements were slow and slightly awkward as I dried myself. Stephen didn’t get me any shorts to wear, so I just pulled the shirt over my head. It fell down to mid-thigh. The bedroom was still empty when I stepped out of the bathroom. I wrapped my arms around my middle as I made my way downstairs again.

“No. I think it’ll be best if she stays here tonight. You can talk to her tomorrow.” He sounded angry.

I frowned as I walked closer to him. He had his back toward me and didn’t notice me standing there. His voice lowered. Stephen turned and froze when his eyes fell on me. They trailed over me and lingered a few seconds longer on my legs. Stephen ended the call then walked toward me. He hesitated slightly before hugging me.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For coming here. I know you said—”

“You shouldn’t be sorry, baby. I’m glad you’re here.” He smiled down at me. “Come on.” Stephen took my hand again and led me upstairs and back into his bedroom.

“Lie down on your stomach,” he ordered softly.

He left me standing beside the bed as he walked into the bathroom. I could hear him searching through the cabinets for something. Stephen appeared holding a bottle of something. “Lie down, baby,” he ordered.

I cautiously climbed onto the bed. He took a seat on the edge by my legs. I clutched the pillow tightly when he moved the shirt up to expose my ass.

“Is it bad?” I questioned softly. I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“It’s going to hurt for a few weeks. Once the welts fade, it’ll turn blue.”

“He’s never done this before,” I whispered. My hands tightened when I felt the cool cream against my skin. “He even slapped me, but this was worse.”

Stephen kept silent, making me wish I hadn’t said that to him. I could tell from his body that he was tense and angry. I flinched away when the cold cream touched a very painful part of my skin.

“Stay still, Alia,” Stephen ordered. “This will help for the burn.” My body relaxed against the mattress the longer he massaged my skin. A moan slipped past my lips before I could stop it. His hand froze and then he was pulling the shirt back into place.

“Stephen?” I called when he stood.

“Yeah?” He kept his back to me.

“What are we going to do about the pictures?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Chapter Eleven

My frown deepened as I was pulled further and further away from sleep. I couldn’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing I remembered was watching Stephen as he worked at the desk. I sucked in a breath then shifted slightly. My eyes snapped open when the arm around my waist tightened, but it wasn’t what made me freeze.

I could feel his erection pressing against my butt. I bit my lip and then moved my ass again. Stephen moaned against the back of my neck, which made my stomach tighten. He sounded so fucking sexy. I waited a few more seconds before slowly turning around. My eyes locked onto his face. He looked so different when he was sleeping—he looked relaxed. I moved the strands of hair away from his forehead then allowed my eyes to move lower. He was only dressed in a pair of silk boxers.

I could see the perfection of his body clearly since the sheets were pooled at the end of the bed. The bulge in his boxers was clearly visible. Placing my hand on his chest, I slowly trailed it down to his six-pack. His body tensed, making me freeze.

“What are you doing, baby?” he questioned huskily.

My cheeks heated when he opened one eye. He stared at me for a few seconds before closing his eye again and turning onto his back. My hand was still on him, but it slipped lower when he moved. I paused, staring wide-eyed at my hand on the band of his boxers. Just a few inches lower and I would be touching his dick. Stephen placed his hand on mine, making my heart sink. For a second I thought he would push me away again, but he didn’t. He slowly slipped my hand lower until it rested on his hard-on. My eyes snapped up to his—he was watching me silently with lust-filled eyes.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he whispered.

“I want to.” No way in hell was I going to give up this opportunity to touch him.

I licked my lips. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. He shifted on the bed before placing his hand on mine again. Slowly he spread my fingers so I was clutching his penis, then he moved my hand down and then up again. Stephen pulled his hand away and placed it on the bed. I continued to stroke him through his boxers. His breathing had sped up, but he made no move to pull away.

I’d seen a penis before in my biology book. Those pictures didn’t really prepare me for the real thing. My movements grew a little more confident. I wanted to see him, so I tugged on the band of his boxers. Stephen raised his hips slightly as I pulled the piece of clothing down his legs. My mouth went dry.

“Oh,” I whispered as I stared at his dick.

He was huge—well, he was to me since this was the first erect penis I’d ever seen. The tip was glistening with pre-cum and the veins were clearly visible, but what caught my attention was the piercing. Yes, he had a silver piercing on the underside of his penis head.

“It’s called a Prince Albert piercing,” Stephen muttered.

I glanced up at him, then looked back down. Licking my lips, I moved closer so I had a better look at the piercing. Without thinking, I reached out to grip his dick. He sucked in a sharp breath, making my eyes snap up to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were slightly parted.

“Did it hurt?” My attention was once again focused on the silver piercing.

“No,” he said softly, “it didn’t hurt.”

His voice sounded strange. I reached out with my other hand to touch the piercing. A gasp fell from my lips when his hips jerked upwards. The head of the penis was the most sensitive part of the organ. I leaned closer to lick the pre-cum from the tip. It didn’t taste so bad. I repeated the action, earning a low moan from him. Satisfaction filled me; he liked it.

I decided to take it a step further. My lips closed over the head of his dick, and I sucked slightly before dipping my tongue into the tiny hole where the pre-cum escaped from. With my free hand I stroked the part that wasn’t in my mouth—like the book I read described. When Stephen let out a painful groan, I instantly pulled back.

“I’m s-sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Alia, look at me,” he said softly. I kept my eyes focused on his chest, but he forced me to look up at him. “You didn’t hurt me, baby.” His thumb stroked my bottom lip. “Your mouth feels really nice around my cock.”

“Oh.” The word fell from my lips before I could stop it.

He chuckled and then wrapped his hand behind the back of my neck to pull me up toward him. His lips softly brushed mine, making me whimper. I could feel his smile against my lips seconds before he deepened the kiss. He nibbled my bottom lip then sucked it into his mouth before soothing the pain with his tongue. My lips parted to allow his tongue to slip inside my mouth. I moaned, clutching his shoulder as heat pooled between my legs.

One of his hands slowly slid up my back, causing the shirt to slide up as well. Stephen broke the kiss only long enough to pull the shirt over my head. I sucked in a sharp breath as my pebbled nipples brushed against his chest.

“I really love these tits,” he muttered, and to prove his point, he cupped my breasts and squeezed them.

Another moan fell from my lips when his thumbs brushed over my nipples. He leaned up and closed his lips over my left nipple. There was a jolt straight to my pussy when he sucked hard. Pulling back, his eyes caught mine as he did the same with its twin. My head dropped as I tried to suck air into my lungs. My body was hay-wired to his every touch. Stephen gripped my thigh then guided my leg over his body so I straddled him. With the position we were in, I had no doubt that he could feel my arousal on his stomach.

“We need to get you on birth control,” he said. “We don’t need any accidental pregnancies.”

I nodded. My brain was too focused on his lips trailing up my neck. His hands trailed up my legs and to my hips. Without warning, he raised me slightly and moved me back. A gasp fell from my lips when my pussy came into contact with his dick. My eyes snapped up to his in surprise.

Stephen was watching me with hooded eyes. “I’ll make an appointment for Saturday in the town over.”

“O-okay,” I breathed.

“Move your hips, baby, back and forth.”

My cheeks heated. I bit my lip and placed my hands on his shoulders. Our eyes locked as I slowly started moving my hips like he instructed. I shuddered as pleasure washed through me. Every time I would move forward, his piercing would hit my clit. I moaned. Fuck, I can’t wait to have him inside me. My movements started to speed up as I moved closer and closer to the edge. I was soaking him with my juices, but he didn’t seem to mind. Stephen was still watching me with hooded eyes. His breathing was just as harsh as mine. In the weeks we’d been together I’d never seen him have an orgasm. He never allowed me to give him one, but I wanted to. I had the sudden urge to make him feel as much pleasure as he made me feel.

“Stephen?”

“Mmm?” His eyes slowly moved to mine.

“I want to give you an orgasm,” I breathed, slowing my movements.

His lips twitched. “Just keep moving like you’re doing, baby.”

My words were cut off when he pulled me down to press his lips against mine. His other hand gripped my hip as I started moving again. Stephen mimicked the motion of my body with his tongue against mine. I was getting closer and closer to the edge. With one last rub against my clit, my body exploded. I broke the kiss to let out a loud moan as my body shuddered. Stephen muttered something under his breath, and a second later I felt something warm against my stomach and breasts.

My body slumped against his. I didn’t care much about the fact that my stomach was covered in his release. This was by far the best experience I’d had, but I was sure that the day we finally had sex would top this one. The high of the moment faded the longer we continued to lie in bed. Our bubble was broken by the reality of what we were about to face.

“The whole town probably knows about us by now,” I whispered. His hand stroking my back paused briefly.

“Guess we’ll have to change the arrangement then,” he whispered in my ear. For a moment I thought I heard him wrong, but when I raised my head to look at him, he was smiling up at me. Stephen reached up to move some of my hair away from my face.

“I don’t want your parents to think badly of you, and I definitely don’t want you to suffer through the verbal abuse again. So we’ll have to make some changes.”

“Such as?”

“I still stand by my words, Alia. I don’t want any feelings involved, but we can continue to do this without anyone getting suspensions. So if anyone asks, we’re dating.”

“Why don’t you want any feelings involved?” I asked him softly.

My heart sank when he pushed me from his body. I watched silently as he climbed off his bed and grabbed the top sheet. He wrapped it around his hips before turning to look at me.

“With feelings comes pain, and I don’t want you to get hurt. This is strictly a business deal, and it will stay that way in private, but in public, we’ll act like a couple.”

“Don’t you ever want to get married?” I whispered.

Stephen paused, but I could see his body tensing. For a few seconds, only silence surrounded us. He slowly turned around to look at me. “I don’t want to get married, and I definitely don’t want kids. If you want to make this more than what we agreed upon, then I suggest we end this now.”

“I don’t want to end it.”

His face softened. “I don’t do relationships, Alia. I’ve learned from past experiences how badly it can end, and I don’t want to repeat that. You’re young and you’re beautiful, and one day you’re going to find your dream man. For as long as you’re waiting for that day to come, I’d be happy to teach you anything you want to know.” Stephen gave me a small smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

I laid back and stared up at the white ceiling. His words made my chest tighten. What could’ve happened that made him like this? He didn’t want a wife or a family. I couldn’t possibly imagine my life like that. It would be so lonely to live like that.

“Hey,” Stephen said as he entered the room again. “Get up and take a shower. Patrick will be here any minute, and I don’t want him to see us like this.”

Chapter Twelve

“He hit you out of anger?”

I nodded as I took another sip of my coffee. Patrick and my sister sat across from me at the table in Stephen’s kitchen. They had arrived half an hour after I took a shower. Patrick looked extremely pissed while my sister had a poker face.

“He wouldn’t do that,” she said softly. “Dad isn’t someone to let his anger get the best of him.”

“So you’re saying I’m lying?”

The look on her face answered my question. I shook my head in disbelief—my own sister thought of me as a liar. “Come on, Alia, I’m just saying, I’ve done worse shit than you and he never hit me in anger.”

Pushing my chair back, I stood and walked out of the kitchen. I was halfway upstairs when a hand gripped my wrist. Through blurry eyes, I stared down at Stephen. He gave my wrist a gentle tug, which made me walk down the stairs until I stood in front of him.

“No need for tears, baby,” he whispered.

“Why is it always me?” I asked him softly. “I just want him to look at me like he does them. I want him to love me.”

“He loves you, sweetheart,” Patrick said from our left. “He just has a different way of showing it to you.”

A tear dropped down my cheek as I shook my head again. They could tell me that until they turned blue, I knew he didn’t love me like he loved them. If he loved me, then why did he hit me? Why did he say he wished my mom gave me to that bastard? My eyes fell on my sister, who stood in the doorway. She gave me a small smile—one I couldn’t return.

“Come on, I made you something to eat,” Stephen said softly as he stepped back.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t eat anything yesterday, and I allowed that because you were in shock, but I’m not going to allow that now. You need to eat, Alia, either willingly or I’ll force you.”

I swallowed but allowed him to lead me back into the kitchen to the table. Patrick and Taylor refused breakfast, but Stephen ate along with me. He kept the conversation up with my brother-in-law and sister. We were just starting to clean up when Stephen’s phone rang. I watched him silently as he picked it up. His face converted into one of anger as his body tensed. Our eyes locked and I could tell whatever that person was saying was something he didn’t like.

“Thanks, Brian,” he muttered before hanging up. “The photos have been deleted from social media.”

“That’s good,” Patrick said from his place at the table.

Before anyone could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Stephen pursed his lips. With one last glance at me, he made his way toward the front door. I stepped closer in curiosity. The door was opened to reveal a man dressed in a police uniform. He was unfamiliar, but the man standing behind him wasn’t.

“Mr. Daniels?” Stephen nodded. “May we come in?”

“What’s this about?” he questioned.

“It’s been brought to our attention that you’re having sexual relations with a minor,” the officer said, his eyes locked on me for a few seconds. “As you’re aware, we have to follow up on the complaints we receive.”

Stephen stepped aside to allow them to enter. My father was glaring at me as he walked into the living room. Behind him, a female officer entered carrying a small black case.

“My name is Jack Brian, and this is my partner, Lucy,” Jack introduced himself and the woman. “Since you’re an officer yourself, you know how this works.”

Stephen nodded but said nothing. Sucking in a shaky breath, I stepped closer to stand beside him. Their eyes snapped over to me.

“Alia? That is your name, right? You need to go with Lucy. She’ll explain everything to you.”

“You can talk in the spare bedroom,” Stephen said softly.

He glanced down at me briefly. He wanted them to stay out of his bedroom. I nodded then turned and led the way up the stairs toward the spare bedroom. Opening the door, I waited for her to enter before stepping in behind her. My palms were sweaty and my knees were shaky. What were they doing here?

“Hello, Alia, my name is Lucy,” she said. “This is something we take very seriously. I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to tell me the truth. You have nothing to be scared of.”

“Right,” I muttered. “What is this about again?” I took a seat on the edge of the bed as I waited for her to continue. She walked over to me and took a seat beside me before placing the small bag on the floor.

“We received a report that Mr. Daniels is having a sexual relationship with you. We take these cases really seriously—especially where minors are involved.”

“Who reported it?”

“We can’t tell you that,” she muttered. “Now, how long have you known Mr. Daniels?”

“For about a month now.” I frowned at her. “What does this have to do with anything? Stephen and I are dating. We’ve been dating for the past few weeks. As far as I’m aware, it’s okay for couples to kiss each other.”

“So you do admit that there is something physical between you?”

“Physical.” I frowned at her. “He’s my boyfriend! We kiss and we hold hands. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “Have you and Mr. Daniels ever…touched each other?” I stared at her. “Has he ever touched you in any way that made you feel uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Has he ever forced himself on you?”

“No.”

“Has he ever—”

“No! Stephen is the perfect gentleman. He’s never touched me in a way that made me uncomfortable or forced me to do something I didn’t want to do. Is there anything else?” She opened her mouth but slammed it shut again. After a few minutes, she picked up the bag and then stood. Without another word, she walked out of the room. I sat silently for a few more seconds before getting up and following her downstairs.

“Thank you for your time,” Jack said from where he stood by the door, “and sorry for the inconvenience.” Lucy and Jack walked out the door, but my father stayed behind. He was glaring at Stephen.

“I won’t let you get away with this,” he said angrily. “You will go to jail for laying your hands on my daughter!”

I cried out when he suddenly gripped my arm tightly. He dragged me toward the door and out of the house without a backward glance. No one did anything to stop him—not even Stephen. He just stood there and watched my father push me into the back of his car.

***

“Honey?” The soft knock on the door followed by my mother’s voice made me look up. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

My voice was hoarse from hours of crying. I watched my mother silently as she walked into my room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. For a few minutes, she stayed silent and just glanced around the room. My eyes darted past her when my father entered the room and closed the door behind him. He didn’t look angry anymore, but his body was tense and his face pale.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” he muttered.

“Sorry isn’t going to make me forget or make the pain go away.”

“No,” he breathed, “it won’t.”

“Honey, we know that you’re stressed about school and stuff. We don’t want you to do something you might regret.”

“Like what?” I glanced between them.

“Like getting knocked up by that bastard.”

“Michael!” My mom glared at him.

“I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow,” he said, ignoring her.

“A doctor’s appointment? For what? I’m not sick.”

“We want to make sure you didn’t lie to the officer, and he didn’t force himself on you, and you’re too afraid to say anything.” I stood from the bed then turned to glare at them.

“No. You can’t force me to go, either.”

“We just want what’s best for you,” my father said softly.

“Really?” I let out a humorless laugh. “Where were you when I needed you? When I had my first award? When I had my first netball tournament? I’ve done everything I could possibly think of just to get you to look at me like you look at my sisters.” I blinked rapidly to clear the tears from my eyes. “Why can’t you look at me like that? Why can’t you love me like you love them?”

“Because you’re not my daughter!”

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and when it did, the room was deadly silent. Our eyes locked briefly before he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut. I sucked in a shaky breath before forcing my eyes toward my mother. She was pale now, and her eyes were filled with tears.

“W-what did he mean?” I questioned her. “Was I adopted?”

“No.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Alia. I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you but—”

“Tell me what?” I didn’t care that I was being rude. I wanted to know why he said I wasn’t his daughter.

“M-Michael isn’t your biological father,” she finally whispered. “It was a mistake and we didn’t realize it until it was too late. It wasn’t supposed—”

“Who’s my father?” She said nothing but continued to silently cry. “Who is he?” I yelled.

“Marlin.” She looked up at me. “He’s your—Michael’s brother. I’m sorry, Alia! I—”

“Get out.” I pointed to the door. “Get out!”

When the door closed softly behind her, I finally allowed the tears to fall. My knees buckled, making me realize I was still standing. I stumbled toward my bed and then fell face first into it. No wonder he hated me so much! My mother had an affair with his brother. His own flesh and blood.

I groggily opened my eyes as I heard my phone ringing. My room was filled with darkness except for the light from my phone. Letting out a low moan, I slowly turned onto my back. I fell asleep in a really awkward position. The phone stopped ringing, making me sigh. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anybody at the moment. Nothing could make me feel better at the moment—not even Stephen.

When my phone started ringing again, I sat up with a groan. Stephen’s number flashed across the screen. My thumb hovered over the button for a few seconds, but I declined the call. I typed a quick message to him and then switched off my phone. I’d talk to him once I got my emotions in check.

Chapter Thirteen

“You’re so beautiful,” Stephen whispered as his lips trailed down my neck.

My body arched against his when he slowly lowered me onto the bed. I moaned as his hand cupped my breasts before slowly sliding down my side again. He was just about to pull the shirt from my body when the scene suddenly changed. I was no longer with Stephen in his room. I was surrounded by darkness until lights started to flicker. Michael appeared in front of me; he wore his police uniform proudly. But the eyes staring at me were filled with so much hatred.

“You’re a bastard child. You don’t belong in this family. You’re not my daughter—you’re an intruder! You need to get out.”

A scream fell from my lips when his hands closed around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes watered as I stared at him—as I tried to get his hands off me. The longer he held on, the further I began to fade. I was dying. My father was killing me.

“Alia.” My eyes snapped open. Through blurry eyes, I stared at him as he spoke again. “Alia!”

My body jerked in fright as my eyes snapped open to stare up at Kate. She was hovering above me with a frown between her eyebrows. Giving her a small smile, I sucked in air as I turned onto my back.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied smoothly. How could I dump my problems on my best friend when she already had her own?

Two weeks had passed since I found out the truth. I’d been avoiding going home as much as I possibly could. My mom had tried to speak to me twice, but I brushed her off. The fact that she had an affair with my uncle—my biological father—was sickening. I’d been living all these years with him right under my nose and I never noticed. I was so focused on impressing a man I thought was my father that I didn’t notice the things that were missing.

Marlin—my Uncle Marlin—was actually my father. I hadn’t told Stephen about it either. We met regularly at the café where we first met. He told me it would have to stay that way until the complaint against him was dropped. All that was allowed between us was a brief kiss when he showed up and before he left. I could tell he was stressed about everything, and I thought about ending things between us just to make the stress go away. But every time I opened my mouth to end it, the words would fail me. I was slowly but surely starting to fall for him, which was extremely bad. I couldn’t—he made that perfectly clear.

“The shower is all yours, Alia,” Kate muttered, snapping me back to reality.

“Thanks.” I grabbed my clothes and made my way into the bathroom across the hall. The water wasn’t as hot as I liked, but I couldn’t complain. I’d been staying with Kate since Friday, and I knew she was getting sick of me. It was strange because she usually never had a problem with this before. We used to have sleepovers all the time before things got serious at school. A thought hit me, but I quickly brushed it off. Kate wasn’t like that.

I quickly finished my shower and got dressed before walking into Kate’s room again. I was meeting Stephen at the café in half an hour before heading home. This week was going to be busy at school. School was closing on Friday for three weeks, which meant my birthday was about two and a half weeks away. I was itching just to spend a day with Stephen again—to feel his lips and hands on my body. My mind trailed off as I started packing my things. We never made the doctor’s appointment for my birth control. In fact, he never mentioned it after that morning.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Kate muttered as she entered her bedroom. “Why don’t we go to the beach this holiday?”

I took a seat on the spare bed, pondering over her words. “It would be great if we had money for a hotel and all the shit that comes with such a trip.”

“What if I can get us a place to stay right at the beach?” She tilted her head. “All that we have to pay for is the fuel to get us there and back. Maybe some spending money and that’s about it.”

“What about our parents?”

“You’ve been avoiding yours for a while. My mom won’t mind watching Derrick for a few days—”

“Why can’t he come with us?” I questioned. “Neither he nor I have been to the beach. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to spend more time with him.”

“What about your birthday?” She stood and made her way over to her closet. “I was actually planning on getting you drunk.”

“I don’t know, Kate,” I muttered. Going away now wasn’t on my to-do list. I wanted to spend my birthday with my family and all my friends.

“We’ll make it a trip to remember.” She smiled at me. “We’ll invite the whole gang and some extra people.”

“Delilah has been avoiding us, if you haven’t noticed, and Dane won’t come. You know his parents would never allow it.”

“Right.” For a few minutes, she stood silently, and then she spun around to look at me. “You can invite Stephen and his brother, and I’ll invite two other people.”

I winced, letting my eyes drop. Going on a trip with my boyfriend and my best friend who slept together, and don’t forget our teacher. It would definitely end in disaster. Pain flashed through me when I remembered what Kate had told me that day.

“Just think about it and then we’ll talk.”

***

I pulled into an open parking space in front of the café. For a few minutes, I sat in the car and stared at the steering wheel. Kate’s words repeated in my head. Getting away from everything would be fucking great. My phone started ringing, which caused me to snap back to reality. I glanced at the screen before allowing it to go on ringing. Mom was calling me again—for the fifth time this morning.

Opening the door, I got out of my car and locked it. My hand was on the handle of the door when a car hooted behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and instantly caught sight of Stephen. A smile slipped onto my lips as I hurried toward his truck. He opened the door for me and waited until I got in before driving off.

“Where are we going?”

“For a picnic,” he said.

“What about the detectives?”

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore,” Stephen said as he slowed the truck at the stop sign. “The case was closed.”

A huge smile broke out on my face. Without thinking, I unclipped my seatbelt and threw myself at him. His body was tense against mine and his lips unmoving, but it quickly changed when I licked his bottom lip. Stephen groaned and then parted his lips for my tongue to slip inside his mouth. His arm wrapped around my waist to pull me tightly against his chest. The kiss was quickly ended when the car behind us started to blast his horn. Stephen gave me a wink as he started to drive again. Instead of moving back to my seat, I sat beside him and placed my hand on his thigh. His body jerked, but he didn’t say anything. The longer we were on the road, the higher my hand moved. He slowed the truck at another stop sign, and I took the chance. I cupped his cock and gave him a firm squeeze.

“Are you trying to make us crash, baby?” Stephen asked huskily. I shook my head and gave him a sweet smile.

“I just want to show you how much I missed you.”

“Can’t you wait until we get to our destination?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” As I spoke, I gripped his zipper.

His hand closed around my wrist to stop my movement. I glanced up at him. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Stephen sucked in a shaky breath then opened his eyes to look down at me.

“Fuck it, baby, don’t look at me like that.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “Alia.”

His hold had loosened on my wrist when he captured my lips again. I took the opportunity to unfasten his pants and slip my hand inside. A gasp left my lips when I came into contact with direct skin—he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Alia Dune,” he groaned.

I gave him a smile before focusing my attention on his dick. Pulling his dick from his pants, I lightly traced the veins with my fingertips. I glanced up at him then out the front window before lowering my body onto the seat. He was breathing harshly and his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Jesus.”

I sucked on the tip then pulled back to lick the piercing. Another groan fell from his lips. I glanced up at him as I licked the underside. His eyes were focused on me, which worried me, but it only lasted a few seconds. Stephen snapped his eyes back to the road but buried one of his hands in my hair.

“If we get caught, both of us would be spending the night in jail, baby.”

I hummed and then sucked him into my mouth. I took as much of him as I could and used my hand to stroke the part that didn’t fit. His hand in my hair tightened as his hips jerked upwards, causing me to gag. I instantly pulled back, letting out a cough.

“I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting you’re new to this.”

“It’s okay.”

My attention was once again focused on his dick. The liquid escaping from the little hole caught my attention. I was briefly aware of the truck stopping and of Stephen focusing his full attention on me. His hands moved my hair out of the way until he gripped it with one hand in a makeshift ponytail. His other hand moved to cup my chin then slowly slid down to my neck.

“Relax your throat, baby,” he ordered hoarsely. “If your throat is relaxed, you’ll be able to take me deeper into your mouth.”

I pulled back slightly to swallow before doing as he told me. He sank right to the back of my throat, and for a few seconds I was able to keep him there until my gag reflex kicked in again. My stomach heaved, making me pull back.

“You’re doing great, baby.” His encouragement was all I needed to continue. “Shit, I’m so close, baby. Fuck! You want me to come in your mouth?”

I hummed my answer. His hand in my hair tightened seconds before his hips bucked upwards. Stephen let out a low groan as a shudder racked through his body. I had to swallow as fast as I could when he started coming in my mouth.

Sitting up, I wiped my mouth as I watched him. Stephen was leaning back against the seat with his eyes closed. I could just make out the shaking of his hand as he wiped his face. A few minutes passed in complete silence. Letting out another groan, he finally opened his eyes to look at me. Giving me a lazy smile, he reached out and gripped the back of my neck. Stephen leaned forward to press his lips against mine. The kiss was extremely gentle—a lot different from the other kisses we had shared.

“That was the best head I’ve ever had,” Stephen whispered against my lips.

My cheeks heated and satisfaction filled me, but it quickly died down. I looked him right in the eye before asking the question I’d been dying to know.

“Have you slept with Kate?”

Chapter Fourteen

Stephen stared at me silently. His eyes, which were resting on my face, flashed with different emotions, but one stood out—regret. Shaking my head, I opened the door and slid out of the truck. I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes. He slept with Kate. My boyfriend fucking slept with my best friend. He’s not your boyfriend, that little voice in the back of my mind whispered.

“Alia!”

I ignored him and trudged deeper into the trees. My chest was tight with pain, and that was something that scared me. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Nothing! But I did; I felt betrayed and hurt that he slept with my best friend. How much more would I be able to take before I couldn’t get up anymore? My foot caught on a root, making me stumble to the ground. Everything around me was blurry because the tears were finally spilling over. My father hated me because my mom had an affair with his brother, and I was the result. A bastard child.

“Alia?” Stephen called from behind me.

I sucked in a shaky breath before calling out to him. He broke through the trees just as I finished wiping the tears from my cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” His hands gripped my shoulder and then moved down to my legs.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

His eyes snapped to my face. A strange emotion flashed through his eyes. Without warning, he pulled me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he started walking. A few minutes later, I was placed down to sit on the hood of the truck. Stephen moved back, but I tightened my legs and arms around him. I just wanted him to hold me—it might be the last time he would.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against my ear. “It was before we met and we were drunk.” I pulled back but kept my eyes on his chest. He dropped his hands to my thighs and moved back slightly.

“Alia—”

“If she wanted to have sex with you again, would you do it? Would you sleep with her again?”

“No.” His answer was instant and truthful. “I’m not interested in Kate. Sleeping with her was just a one-time thing. Like I said, baby, we were both drunk that night. It’s something that won’t be repeated.”

I finally found enough courage to look up at him. His eyes instantly caught mine. I didn’t want to lose this, didn’t want to lose him, but I knew sooner or later our arrangement would end.

“Is this the thing that’s been bothering you for the past few weeks?” I frowned at him. “I’m not ignorant, baby. You haven’t been yourself lately, and I thought it was because of them watching us. Tell me what’s been eating you.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t his problem. “I’m just a little stressed about school.” Stephen didn’t look convinced. He was about to speak again, but I pressed my lips against his to stop him. The distraction seemed to work perfectly—even if it was only for a few minutes.

***

“Kate wants us to go to the beach this holiday,” I muttered, breaking the comfortable silence.

He paused slightly before continuing to stroke my hair. “She wants to invite the whole group…and you.” I risked a glance up at him.

We were sitting underneath a tree on the blanket. The burgers and fries he got had already been eaten. I sat up and turned to face him.

“I told her it wouldn’t work because we don’t have enough time to collect the money. Kate said that all we had to do was get someone who owns a beach house, and then all we need is some fuel money.”

“Who’s the whole group?” he asked without looking at me.

My eyes trailed over him, taking in his tense shoulders and pursed lips. It felt like he was pushing me away. His eyes refused to meet mine—he was too interested in the birds a few feet away.

“I don’t know yet,” I said softly. Maybe I should end this now. He won’t be the only man I would have sex with. Like he said, I was still young, and someday I would find the right guy for me.

“Do you want to go?”

My eyes snapped up to his. “My birthday is in two and a half weeks. I’d rather spend it somewhere far from home.” If he heard the note of anger, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Plus, I’ve never been to the beach before.”

Stephen chuckled and then pulled me onto his lap. I straddled his legs and placed my hands on his broad shoulders. Today he was wearing casual clothes. My eyes trailed over his face before landing on his lips. His lips parted and his tongue snuck out to lick his bottom lip. My stomach tightened. A squeal fell from my lips when he spun us around. Seconds later I found myself lying on the blanket with Stephen hovering above me. His eyes caught mine as his hand pushed my shirt up. A shiver raced down my spine when his hand trailed over my stomach. He traced the underside of my bra before slipping a finger beneath the material. His head lowered, and just when his lips were about to meet mine, his phone started ringing.

Our picnic was cut short because Stephen had to return to work. After promising me that he would think about the trip, he dropped me off at the café and then drove off. The phone call really upset him, and that made me even more curious. After standing next to my car for at least two minutes, I finally snapped out of it. I got into the car and glanced at my phone. There were a few messages from Kate and my sister, but nothing important. If Stephen agreed to go on this trip, it’d be the perfect opportunity to lose my virginity.

Chapter Fifteen

The class was completely silent. I glanced to the front. Nathan was sitting in his chair with his eyes focused somewhere outside the classroom. He was restless—his leg was bouncing up and down and his hand twitched every few seconds on the desk. I glanced at Kate, but she was too focused on her phone beneath the table. I rolled my eyes before glancing down at my desk again. Mr. Pierce had decided to surprise us with a test. He said it was just to make sure that we’d been paying attention.

I hadn’t seen him around Stephen’s house that much. Things had gone more or less back to normal—except for things at home. I’d decided to suck it up and stay at home so as not to bother Kate as much. Things between my mother and me were still tense. At least we were talking to each other again.

“Two minutes left,” Mr. Pierce said.

Two minutes of school. Two minutes until our holiday started. My lips pulled up into a smile as I thought of what I’d be doing this holiday. Just two more weeks and I wouldn’t be a virgin anymore. The bell rang, startling me from my daydreams. I quickly scribbled an answer to the last question and then sent the paper to the front. Everyone was hurrying to get their stuff packed. I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed to the door.

“Alia? Kate? Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” Nathan said.

I glanced at Kate and then turned to walk over to his desk. He waited until all the students were out of the class before turning to us.

“Stephen said you’re planning a trip to the beach.” He glanced between us. “If this gets out, I’m holding the two of you responsible. You got it?”

“Yes, sir,” we said.

Nathan shook his head and turned his back on us. He mumbled something under his breath and then turned to us again. “I may have a solution to your problem, but we’re going to have to compromise.”

“No problem,” Kate said eagerly. “Let’s hear it.” I frowned at her but kept my mouth shut.

“I have a friend who owns a house on the beach. It’s a little far from civilization, but there is a private beach. We were planning on going there for a week or two, but the plans got cancelled.” Nathan glanced at the door. “Stephen and I will still be going along with our cousin and his girlfriend. We agreed to let you come with us on the condition that you keep it silent. I just started here, and I’m not planning on losing my job.”

“Okay, wait.” She held up a finger. “You’ll let us stay with you at the beach house for the whole vacation?”

“Yes, though we’ll only be staying for two weeks.”

“This is amazing!” I agreed. It was amazing! I’d get to spend my school vacation at the beach with Stephen. My mood dampened when I thought of my parents.

“Alia,” Nathan called. “Meet me at my house at three and then we’ll go over the details.”

I nodded then greeted him and followed Kate out of the classroom. We walked in silence for a few minutes until she turned toward me. She clasped her hands under her chin and smiled at me.

“I get to spend my vacation watching our sexy teacher in swim trunks!”

“You’re such a perv,” I muttered. “Let’s just hope our parents agree to this or you can forget about ogling Nathan.”

“Nathan?”

My cheeks heated. “Mr. Pierce.”

“You call him Nathan?” Her eyes turned cold. “Since when do you have the right to call him Nathan?”

I was taken aback by her harsh words. I didn’t understand what the problem was. Of course he’s our teacher, but a lot of students called teachers by their first names. “He’s Stephen’s brother. I see him around the house a lot.”

“So you and Stephen are actually dating?” I nodded, keeping my eyes on her face. She looked away before I could make out the emotions in her eyes. Shaking her head, Kate turned back to me with a smile.

“I guess that’s great then. You won’t be all alone at the house since your boyfriend will be there.” We walked in silence for a few more minutes. “Have you guys had sex yet?” Her question made me stumble. I kept my eyes on my feet as my cheeks heated. Why was she always so straightforward?

“N-no.”

“But you’ve fooled around.” It was a statement and not a question.

“I’ll see you later!” I muttered before she could say anything else.

Kate was my best friend, but unlike her, I wasn’t comfortable talking about my sex life. There were some things I wanted to keep to myself. Like Stephen had said—in the public eye we’re dating, but behind closed doors he was only my teacher.

***

Everything was set. It didn’t take much for my mother to agree. She thought it would do me some good to get away. Of course I only told her what she wanted to know. Nathan had explained the rules before Stephen arrived. Kate was watching us throughout the whole time we spent planning. I couldn’t tell whether she was jealous or just curious. Stephen had said he wasn’t interested in Kate in any way, and I believed him. He treated her a little coolly, but he wasn’t flirting or giving any sign of being attracted to her. After we arrived home from Nathan’s, Kate was quick to say goodbye and head home. I had to face my parents, and I was hoping she would stay to help convince them. It all went better than I expected. After explaining everything to her, she watched me silently for a few minutes. She asked a few questions but then agreed.

We would leave on Sunday morning, so of course I had to sleep over at Kate’s house so we could leave early. Now, as I sat next to Kate, I was starting to regret our agreement to leave so early. We couldn’t take only one car because they would leave early, so we agreed to meet them at the house and then we’d decide who rides with whom. I was fucking tired. My body felt numb and my head stuffy, not to mention my heavy eyes. I spent the night haunted by new nightmares that got worse by the minute.

“Do you and Stephen plan on having sex?”

My eyes fluttered open. “On my birthday.”

“Oh,” she muttered. Kate seemed surprised.

“Why?”

“I’m just curious. You too are pretty cosy with each other. I was wondering if you’ve had sex already.”

I didn’t answer her. I was too tired and irritated to make small talk. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I wanted a night of sleep that lasted longer than eight hours. My eyes were focused on the passing houses. The car turned off into a familiar street, which made my heartbeat speed up. Was he awake yet? Have they packed yet? Will he be happy to see me?

“They better not be sleeping,” she muttered.

I rolled my eyes at her. As soon as the car was parked, I got out and walked up to the front door. Ringing the bell, I waited for someone to open the door. Kate appeared at my side, making me frown.

“You can’t leave Derrick alone in the car.”

“It’ll only be for a few minutes.” She shrugged.

I sent her a glare as I pushed past her and walked down the path again. Surprise flashed through me when I found the back door unlocked. She was about to leave her kid in an unlocked car outside at four in the fucking morning. My irritation started to rise as I unbuckled his seatbelt and picked him up. He pressed his face against my neck, but thankfully he stayed asleep. Just as I reached the front door, it opened. I blinked rapidly at the man standing just inside the doorway. I was pretty sure they could hear my heart beating in my ears.

Stephen stood there dressed in only a pair of silk boxers. It was obvious by his hair that he just got up. I couldn’t stop my eyes from trailing over his body. They stopped at the deep V that led down into his boxers.

“Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping!” Kate said breathlessly.

I frowned at her. She was eyeing him like he was a piece of meat. A blush covered her cheeks and her chest rose up and down. I wanted to yell at her to stop staring at my fucking boyfriend, but I kept my mouth shut. Instead I pushed past her and stepped into the house. Derrick stirred when I lowered him to the couch. His eyes flicked open. Forest green eyes stared up at me through a sleepy daze. I smiled and leaned down to move the hair from his forehead.

“Shh, go back to sleep, sweetie,” I whispered.

I waited until his eyes fluttered closed again before I straightened. My eyes instantly fell on Stephen, who was standing by the closed door. I was aware of Kate moving around, but I didn’t pay any attention to her. I was only focused on Stephen, and not because he was half naked, but because he had this peculiar look on his face. Swallowing, I walked towards him. I stopped in front of him and placed my hand against his chest. His body was tense.

“Are you okay?” I asked him softly.

He swallowed loudly, and then he surprised me by wrapping his hand behind my neck and smashing his lips on mine. A moan slipped past my lips and into his mouth. Stephen slipped his hand into my hair and angled my head back to deepen the kiss. I pulled back to suck air into my starved lungs. He was smirking down at me—the expression from earlier gone.

“Good morning, baby.”

“M-morning,” I managed to stutter.

My mood suddenly lifted when I caught the expression on Kate’s face. She didn’t think we were really dating, and Stephen just proved her wrong. Kate stayed in the living room with Nathan as I followed Stephen up into his bedroom. I sat on the bed and watched him as he finished packing his clothes. He grabbed some files and placed them on the top before zipping the bag closed. Picking it up, he dropped it by the door before turning to me again. My mouth dried when he hooked his fingers in the band of his boxers. He pulled it down just a little as he smirked at me.

“Care to join me for a shower, baby?”

I smiled up at him. “Hell yeah.”

Stephen chuckled as he scooped me up into his arms and carried me into the bathroom. I undressed as he fixed the water. He stepped into the shower behind me but made no indication that he wanted to fool around. Stephen lathered his hands with soap before washing my body and then his.

I stepped under the spray and closed my eyes as the warm water beat down onto my shoulders. My eyes snapped open when he pressed his front against my back. There was no mistaking his state of arousal.

“Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” I whispered.

“Want to talk about it?”

There was no fooling him. Stephen placed a soft kiss against my shoulder as his arms around me tightened. My body relaxed against his. Maybe I should tell him? I hadn’t told anyone since I found out, and it was starting to get to me. Bottling things up was never an option. It was dangerous and led to one’s destruction.

“Is this because of our arrangement?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not because of our arrangement.”

Hands gripped my hips and then slowly turned me around. I kept my eyes on his chest as his stare burned into the top of my head. A finger under my chin forced my eyes up to his. His green eyes trailed over my face. I tried to give him the brightest smile I could manage, but I failed. Concern flashed through his eyes. Stephen sighed then leaned down to press his lips against mine. He didn’t deepen the kiss like he usually did. A bang on the bathroom door made me jump.

“We need to hit the road!” Nathan yelled from the other side of the door.

“We’ll be out in five.” Stephen glanced back down at me again. “If this is getting too much for you, all you have to do is tell me. You can end this whenever you want.”

“Okay.”

Chapter Sixteen

The drive to the beach was four hours long. It was agreed that Nathan would drive Kate and Derrick while I’d drive with Stephen. For some reason, Kate’s mood turned sour after we appeared downstairs. I knew it was obvious that we showered together, but what I didn’t understand was why it bothered her so much. We stopped at a gas station two hours into the drive to freshen up. I went to the bathroom with Kate while the men got refreshments. She was suddenly cheerful again. Her mood swings were starting to give me whiplash.

I exited the stall and walked to the faucet to wash my hands. My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror. I had pulled my hair up into a bun when the heat started to rise. It was messy, but it didn’t bother me. My face was pale, and the dark circles beneath my eyes were clearly visible. I thought of using some makeup to cover it but decided against it. Another stall door opened. Kate stepped out with her phone in her hand. She was frowning down at it. Lately, she’d been doing that a lot.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked as she reached my side.

I shrugged then opened the tap again. Splashing some cold water against my face, I grabbed some paper towels and dried my face.

“I’m just curious, and well, I don’t want your first time to be as embarrassing as mine was.” She paused. “Are you and Stephen planning the day you’ll be having sex or are you just waiting for it to happen?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’re planning it.”

“If you plan it, then that gives us more time to get the kit ready.”

“The kit?” I frowned at her.

Rolling her eyes, she turned to face me. “The kit is something every girl needs. It holds all the emergency essentials. Think of it as a safely kit—to prevent pregnancy and all that. You have the condoms, the morning after pill, some lube if needed, etcetera.”

“I won’t need that,” I said, making my way toward the door. “Stephen will be prepared.”

Kate didn’t stop at my last words. She followed me out of the bathroom and continued to explain everything. Her way of preparing me had something to do with a spa, waxing, a few drinks—and that’s where I started to block her out. Though one thing she said stuck—waxing. I knew some women groomed their pubic hair just like some men did, but I’d never been one of them.

I tried shaving once—keyword being once—and I ended up cutting myself. I’d never thought of doing that again until now. Stephen had seen me naked numerous times, and it never seemed to bother him. I wondered if he secretly wished me shaved down there. My cheeks heated when I thought of that. I ignored Kate and slowly made my way down a random aisle. I stared blindly at the items as my mind raced with different thoughts. By the time I snapped back to reality, I found myself standing in front of chocolates.

“The Oreo ones taste amazing,” someone said from behind me.

My body tensed. I gave him a stiff nod but ignored him. I didn’t want to give him any reason to talk to me.

The man didn’t get the message. “I wonder which flavor my girlfriend would like? Maybe I should ask her.”

The last part he mumbled more to himself than to me. I muttered something I hope sounded friendly before turning and walking away. My phone pinged just before I could turn into the next aisle. I paused then pulled my phone from my shorts.

Stephen: What type of chocolates do you like?

I blinked and then reread the message again.

The guy just asked me that. What the hell? I spun around. Stephen stood where I had been only a few minutes ago. I dropped my phone back into my pocket as I retraced my steps.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Shaving,” I muttered.

He raised an eyebrow, and his lips twitched. “Shaving?”

I nodded and then leaned closer as I whispered, “Do you ever wish I’m shaved…down there?”

Stephen blinked. He frowned down at me for a few minutes, and then his face cleared. “You want to know if I’ve ever wished that you shaved your pussy?”

Well, saying it like that…I spun and walked away without answering him. Five minutes later, we all met up at the checkout counter. I was surprised to see Nathan holding Derrick’s hand. Kate was glaring at his back. Stephen was watching me with a smirk. I managed to ignore him until we got back into the truck.

Curiosity was pushing the shyness away. As soon as we were back on the road, I unfastened my seatbelt and turned to face him. With my back pressed against the door, I placed my legs over his.

“This is not a proper way to sit in a car, baby,” Stephen said.

“I remember a time not so long ago that you didn’t have a problem with it.”

“We didn’t have a two-hour drive in front of us,” he muttered. “Please sit properly.”

I rolled my eyes but turned back in my seat and fastened my seatbelt. Stephen slowed the truck at a stop sign. I risked a glance behind us, but there was no sign of the others.

“So?” I looked at him. “You never answered my question.”

“You really want to know?” I nodded. “No, I don’t secretly wish that your pussy was shaved.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me, baby.”

I nodded. My eyes were glued to the passing buildings. People were only now starting to get up to do their daily routines.

“Why?” Stephen questioned. “Why did you ask me that?”

“Kate was talking about waxing, and I remembered reading somewhere that some men like it when the women were bare down there.” I kept my face turned away from him. “And some women said that it felt more pleasurable.”

“Do you want to find out?”

My eyes snapped to his. The blush in my cheeks deepened. “What?”

“Do you want to find out if it’s more pleasurable when your pussy is bare?” I bit my lip. Did I? Did I want to take that risk or the pain of shaving again? I winced.

“How do you do it?”

“How do I do what, baby?”

“You don’t have any pubic hair,” I stated. “You don’t shave because you have no razor burns. That is, unless you’re very good at it.”

Stephen laughed. Taking one hand from the wheel, he placed it on my thigh. “I wax, baby,” he answered my question. “I first groomed, then I tried shaving, but waxing works the best.”

“You’d take that much pain down there?”

His laugh echoed around the cab of the truck again. I didn’t understand why he was laughing at me. Using wax strips on the most sensitive place on your body, it was insane. He squeezed my leg.

“You get hair removal cream, Alia.”

“Oh,” I whispered. I thought back to all the times I went shopping for personal items. I’d never seen hair removal cream on the shelves.

“So would you do it?” He broke through my thoughts. “Would you remove all your pubic hair?”

“I don’t want to shave,” I told him. “Last time I did that, I cut myself, and it was painful enough to never try it again.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” He flashed me a smile. “I know just the way to do it.”

The way he said that made my panties dampen. Stephen glanced at me. The heat in his eyes almost made me moan out loud. “While we’re on this topic, I want to ask you something.”

“S-sure.”

“That day in the hospital, you talked about my handcuffs.” He paused, glancing at me. “Would you be willing to try that? Would you be willing to let me tie you to the bed?”

I thought about it. BDSM was not something I’d thought about a lot. I’d read a few books and I’d watched some movies, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. Could I do that? Would I be able to trust Stephen to take care of me while I was tied up?

“Would you hurt me?”

“You know I’d never do that, baby.”

“Can I tie you up first and—”

“No.” The word was cold and hard.

Confusion filled me when Stephen completely pulled away from me. He removed his hand and placed it back on the steering wheel. He was tense, and his face was extremely pale. Unfastening my seatbelt, I slid across the seat towards him. I gently placed my hand on his arm, which caused his body to jerk.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled, pulling away from my touch. “Just don’t fucking touch me.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Sliding back to my seat, I pressed my body against the door. A tear dropped down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. This was the first time he talked to me like that. What did I do? My forehead slammed against the window when the truck swerved off the road. I gripped the door handle tightly when he hit the brakes. My body jerked forward, but I thankfully managed to prevent any further injuries. Stephen pushed open his door and got out. He slammed the door shut before making his way around the truck. I watch with blurry eyes as he started kicking a tree. When he started using his fist, I finally forced my body into action.

“S-stop!” I yelled as I stepped toward him. “Stephen, stop! Please!” I gripped his arm as I yelled at him. I managed to grip both his arms and force him to step backwards. His body was shaking just as badly as mine. I risked a glance up at his face, and what I saw made my knees buckle. His green depths were filled with fear, pain, and anger.

“S-Stephen?” He blinked, once then twice.

“Alia,” he breathed.

And then his lips were on mine. Hard and urgent. His hands pressed me tightly against his shaking body. He made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a whimper. Stephen gripped my thighs and hoisted me against him. I gripped his shoulders as he started moving. Seconds later, my back hit the side of the truck. His lips trailed down my neck as his hands pushed my dress up. I gasped as he ripped my panties from my body, and then his fingers were there, teasing, stroking, and making me explode twice. I was floating so high that I didn’t realize what he was doing until it was too late.

The flash of pain was the first thing that broke through my pleasure-fogged brain. Stephen grunted against my ear. My fingers dug into his shoulders as I fought to catch my breath. Pain flashed through me, making me whimper.

“Stephen,” I whispered. “You’re hurting m-me.”

For a while, I thought he didn’t hear me, but then he stopped moving. His whole body froze and then tensed. I could feel his harsh breath fanning the side of my neck. His hands squeezed my ass briefly and then he pulled back. His lips brushed my jaw, my nose, and then my cheeks. He was kissing away my tears. One of his hands moved from under my dress and up my back to my neck. Then his lips closed over mine. They merely brushed mine before disappearing.

“Alia,” he whispered. “Look at me, baby.”

I shook my head as more tears dropped. He promised me it would be special. “Let me go.” I finally got out. I forced my fingers to loosen his shirt, and then I pressed my hands against his chest. I opened my eyes and glared at him. “Let me fucking go, Stephen.”

“I’m sorry.” His hand slid down to my back as he slowly pulled back.

I winced as he pulled out of me. He slowly set me down on my feet but kept his hands on my hips. Something trailed down my thigh. I glanced down. My eyes widened when I saw the blood trailing down on the inside of my thigh. Stephen cursed under his breath. He pulled open the door and fumbled inside the truck. A minute later, he reappeared with a pack of Wet Wipes. I stood silently as he wiped the blood away. His actions from a few minutes ago had scared me and left me shocked.

“Lift your leg, baby,” he ordered softly.

I silently obeyed his order and watched as he pulled a pair of boxers up my legs. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, so after he stepped back, I stumbled into the truck. More tears continued to fall as I slammed the door shut and leaned against it. What he did was something I’d never forget. He took my virginity at the side of the road.

How could he?

Chapter Seventeen

Nathan, Kate, and Derrick were already at the beach house when we arrived. The car was parked in front of the house with the trunk and the back door standing open. My mind was still focused on what happened hours ago. I couldn’t concentrate on the house or the surroundings. All I wanted to do was get away from him. The moment he parked the truck, I pushed the door open and stumbled up the steps into the house. For a moment I was shocked by the open floor plan, but the shock broke when Stephen called out behind me. I made a beeline for the stairs and took them two at a time.

The second floor contained six doors. One of them stood open, and from inside I could hear Kate’s voice. I turned left and entered the first door. It looked like the master bedroom. Pressing my back against the door, I allowed the sob to escape. More followed, and soon after, I found myself on the floor with my knees against my chest.

“Alia?”

I pressed my mouth against my arm and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Baby, please open up for me,” Stephen begged from the other side of the door. “Alia?”

Sniffing, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and then stumbled to my feet. I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. He has a good explanation, the voice in the back of my head whispered. Stephen would never do that to you otherwise. With a shaky breath, I pulled the door open and then turned away. Stephen closed the door silently behind him once he entered. For a few minutes, there was only silence until he broke it.

“I’m sorry, Alia.”

When I reached the bed, my legs gave way beneath me. Another sob escaped before I could stop it. A second later, I felt his arms around me. Stephen pulled me onto his lap and pressed me tightly against his chest. His face was buried against my neck as he rocked us back and forth. As my tears dried, I realized two things: my neck was damp and Stephen was crying. I pulled away from him and cupped his cheeks so I could look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks damp.

“Alia,” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m s-so f-fucking sorry. W-what I did—no words could e-explain how sorry I am.”

“What happened?” I whispered. “We were talking and then you suddenly—” I broke off.

He swallowed and pressed his forehead against mine. “My mother died while giving birth to me, so my grandparents took me in. When they died, I was sent to foster care. What you said about tying me up, it triggered some memories.” He sucked in a breath. “I was trying…then you were there and…I’m so fucking sorry, Alia.”

Now it was my turn to comfort him as he started crying again. I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. The conversation we had floated through my mind. I had asked him if I could tie him up, and that’s what caused him to withdraw from me.

“Shh,” I whispered, stroking his hair. “It’s okay.”

Stephen pulled back to look at me. “I’ll do anything you want me to do to make it up to you, baby. Just tell me what I have to do.”

“Is this why you don’t want it to go further?” I asked instead of answering him.

He reached up to stroke my cheek with shaking fingers. “I’m pretty sure things have already moved past our arrangement.”

I blinked at him. What did he mean?

“When I first got into town, all I was thinking about was that this town better be fucking better than the last one. Small towns have less crime, and sometimes that’s pretty boring. The first day on the job was just as I thought it would be—fucking boring. So I went out with my brother and I got drunk. That’s when I met Kate.” I winced. “We were both pretty fucking drunk, but I was still aware of what I was doing. I booked us into a hotel for the night. After that, things got better. I was assigned a new case—one they had trouble solving.” Stephen ran his fingers down to the strap of my dress. “And then I found you. I was going through the website, and I stumbled across your ad. When I realized you were the chief’s daughter, I thought I’d give you the biggest scare of your life. I thought that with your father as a cop, you’d at least have a better idea of the danger out there.”

“We were never close.”

“I noticed that.” He nodded. “I kinda wrote a speech on my way to the café, everything I could think of that could scare you. And then I saw you.” He smiled. “The moment you looked up at me with these beautiful eyes, all the words flew from my mind. I knew that I had to walk away from you, but I couldn’t. There’s something about you that pulls me in. I’m a cop, so I knew how much trouble we would be in if we got caught, but I still made the suggestion. Hell, baby, the moment I saw you, I wanted to take you right there.”

“I thought you couldn’t stand to look at me,” I whispered, “in the bathroom.”

Stephen chuckled. “It was the opposite. I wanted to fuck you, so I tried to think of anything but you. You were half naked and you were right there. All I had to do was strip your pants.”

“I felt like you didn’t want me because of how I look.”

He shook his head then leaned forward to trail his lips over my cheek. “I told you, baby, I fucking love your body.”

“Stephen—”

He silenced me by smashing his lips on mine. I moaned, gripped his hair as I pressed my body closer to his. Breaking the kiss, he stared at me with strange emotion in his eyes.

“I know I said we shouldn’t involve feelings, that we should keep this casual. But if you’re willing, I’d like to take things further. I’d like to see how this goes.”

“You really mean it?”

“Alia Dune, will you do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend?”

A smile broke out across my face as my heart swelled with happiness. I fought the urge to stand up and dance around. Leaning down, I pressed my lips against his. Stephen allowed me to control the kiss, but only for a few minutes before he took over. I could feel him swell against me, and that made excitement and panic fill me. My muscles clenched as I remembered the feel of him inside me. There was still pain, but I knew once the pain faded, it would only be pleasurable.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

I broke away and buried my face against his neck as he chuckled. We didn’t hear the door open until it was too late. I heard Nathan muttering under his breath as he walked down the hall.

“Are you sharing my room?”

“No, but I’ll sneak in when everyone’s asleep.” He kissed my cheek before placing me on the bed.

With a wink, he walked out of the room. The moment the door closed behind him, I let out a squeal. We’re actually fucking dating! I sat up on the bed and glanced around. The room was almost the same size as mine at home. A king-size bed was pushed up against the wall between a medium-sized window with a window seat and French doors that led out onto a balcony. One wall was decorated in only dark grey cabinets, and the other wall held photo frames and other small shelves with ornaments. A door to the left led into a spacious bathroom that was the same color scheme as the bedroom.

I kicked off my sandals and curled my toes into the soft carpet. The heat of the day was catching up on us, even if it was only past ten. Pulling my sandals back on, I headed out of the room and downstairs. I was surprised by the open plan of the first floor. The staircase was set in the middle; to the right was the living room, and to the left was a sort of game room. Behind the stairs was the kitchen and then sliding doors that led out onto a wooden patio. I turned to study the living room. There was a stone fireplace right in front of me with a flat screen TV mounted above it. Leather couches were placed neatly around to face it. In the middle was a small coffee table that held a bowl of fake flowers. The floor was covered with the same rug that was in the bedroom upstairs. I turned to face the game room.

The windows were large—it gave a perfect view of the front yard. Sunlight streamed in from between the trees, which gave the room a nice glow. A small step led down onto a white tiled floor. There was a pool table to the left and a smaller poker table to the right. A pinball game was pushed against the wall between two smaller windows.

The kitchen looked like something out of a magazine. There was an island with six barstools placed around it neatly. To the left stood a table with six chairs placed neatly around it. A bowl of fake fruit was placed in the middle on top of a blue cloth.

I stepped into the kitchen and trailed my hand over the black and white marble countertop. The kitchen contained all the best appliances that were on the market. I was eager to go outside and explore the beach, but I needed to help the guys first. Half an hour later, all our things were packed away. Stephen had dropped my bag in the room we were in earlier and chose the bedroom next to mine.

Kate and Derrick would be sharing a room, and Nathan had his own. Once everything was packed away, we all gathered in the kitchen. I took a seat at the island so I could watch Nathan as he made sandwiches. Derrick was standing on a chair next to him, completely focused on helping him. It felt strange being here with my teacher, but I was glad he came along. Derrick seemed to have taken to him instantly—much to Kate’s disappointment. I could tell by her expression that she never really wanted to bring her son along.

“We still need to get some things.” Stephen entered the kitchen. “Sebastian forgot to stock up.”

Goosebumps broke out over my skin when Stephen pressed a kiss to my neck. He wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face against my neck.

“Did they say when they’ll arrive?” Nathan questioned.

“Around noon,” Stephen muttered. “Alia and I will go get the groceries.”

“I’ll come along,” Kate said. “I need to get some things.”

“No.” Stephen pulled away from me. “There’s a local shop just down the road. I’m only getting the basics, and by that, I mean food and such. We can go explore the town a bit tomorrow.”

***

I followed Stephen silently down the aisles with the cart. He grabbed things from the shelves and threw them inside before walking on. By the time the cart was half full, he seemed to be satisfied.

“Is there anything specific you want?” he asked me as he glanced over his shoulder.

“If I want something else, I’ll buy it myself.” I was already feeling guilty that he had to buy all this stuff.

Stephen stopped and then turned to face me. He cupped my cheek and tilted my chin upwards so I looked up at him.

“You’re my girl, and I have the right to spoil you if I want to,” he said.

He pecked my lips and then turned again. I followed him down another aisle. It wasn’t until we were halfway down it that I realized which aisle we were in. Stephen suddenly stopped. I pulled the cart to a stop just before it could hit him.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you wanted to know what it felt like to be completely bare, and since you don’t want to shave, we’re looking at other options,” he said, pointing to the shelves.

I bit my lip as I walked closer to him. For a second, I hesitated but then turned to look at my options. One shelf held different kinds of lube; another held different boxes of condoms. And the one we stood in front of held wax and other hair removal options. I was pretty sure I looked like a tomato at the moment. This was usually the aisle I avoided whenever I did shopping.

“So?” My eyes trailed over the choices. They all pretty much seemed the same to me. I shrugged then risked a glance at him. He was smirking down at me.

“I dunno, what do you use?”

He reached out and picked up a light blue box. Reading it over, he held it out to me. The instructions were pretty simple, and it was a natural product, so chances of infection were slim.

“Okay,” I said, turning to dump it into the cart.

“We need something else also.” He took a step to the left. “Do you want flavored or glow in the dark condoms?”

My mouth fell open and then slammed closed. I glanced around. A couple stood at the end of the aisle talking softly amongst themselves.

“Baby, which do you want?”

“You’re serious?” I asked in disbelief.

Stephen chuckled. “No,” he leaned down, “but we need to stock up. Or would you rather buy some when we go to the mall tomorrow?”

I groaned, burying my face against his chest. This was normal for some people but not for me. I never thought I’d find myself standing in a shop discussing condoms. “Just take normal ones,” I muttered.

“Right.”

I pulled away when he stepped forward. My cheeks got hotter by the minute. Stephen grabbed a blue box of Magnum condoms and dropped it into the cart. He reached out again to grab another box and another.

“That’s way too much,” I whispered.

His eyes caught mine. “Really?”

I nodded.

“We’ll see.”

Chapter Eighteen

Meeting their cousin was a bit awkward. Sebastian was the total opposite of Nathan and Stephen. He was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. Sebastian had blond hair and dark blue eyes. He was the same height as Stephen, but his body was leaner. His girlfriend, Trina, was pretty down to earth. The moment they introduced us, I had an instant liking for her. She was shorter than me by at least five inches. During our talk, I learned that they’d been together for four years now. Trina worked as a waitress at his mother’s restaurant, and that’s how they met. She was still finishing her masters in accounting and didn’t want to start a relationship, but he was persistent.

I admitted to how Stephen and I met, and instead of judging me like I thought she would, she thought it was funny. Kate was a bit silent. She only talked when someone asked her something directly.

Seeing the ocean for the first time in real life was something I couldn’t explain. The air was fresh—different than it was in town. I loved the sound of the waves crashing against the caramel-colored sand. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

“How about we throw some patties onto the grill?” Sebastian asked.

“Sounds good.” I smiled at him. “We’ll throw together some salads to go with it.” Kate decided to stay on the beach, so Trina and I went back to the house. After collecting everything we needed and deciding on what to make, we started.

“I’ve never seen him so relaxed.” Trina broke the silence.

I glanced up at her from where I stood on the other side of the island. “Who?”

“Stephen.” She threw the cut onions into a small bowl. “The last time I saw him—about two months ago—he was a fucking mess. The whole thing with his mother was stressing him out.”

The knife slipped on the cutting board as her words registered. He said his mother died while giving birth to him. Did he lie to me?

“His mother?” I managed to get out.

“His stepmother, Nathan’s mother. She was set for parole—oh my god, Alia!” Her scream made me jump in fright.

Before I could react, she was by my side, gripping my wrist. I allowed her to pull me toward the sink. She opened the tap and held my hand beneath the running water. The water tinted red as it disappeared down the drain. I felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous.

“It’s fine,” I whispered. “It’s just a little cut.”

“I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

I grabbed the towel and pressed it against the cut as I stepped away from her. Muttering that I’d take care of it myself, I quickly walked out of the kitchen. When I entered my bedroom, I sank down onto the bed. What Stephen told me raced through my mind. He never mentioned his stepmother. What did she do that made her end up in prison? Trina said he was stressed, so maybe he wanted to ensure she got out.

Shaking the thoughts away, I tended to the cut. It was deep, but hopefully, I wouldn’t need stitches. As I turned my eyes, I caught sight of the plastic bag I had stowed in the cabinet earlier. I pulled out the hair removal cream and pushed the bag back inside. The instructions stated that I had to test it twenty-four hours before using it.

“Hopefully it’s easier than it sounds,” I muttered to myself.

When I returned back to the kitchen, Trina had already finished the salads. The kitchen was cleaned, so I had no choice but to join them outside on the patio. Sebastian and Nathan stood at the barbecue with a beer in their hands. Kate was still on the beach with Derrick, and Stephen sat to the side with Trina. I bit my lip as I debated on what to do. My decision was made when Stephen glanced up at me. His eyes looked weary and slightly guarded, but he gave me a small smile. I returned it as I made my way towards them.

“How’s your finger?” Trina asked as I reached them.

“Just a small cut.” I held it up to show them the plaster.

Stephen was sitting in one of those chairs that were made out of grass or something like that. It was woven together with a comfy pillow placed on top. He surprised me when he reached out to pull me onto his lap. I snuggled against his chest but kept silent as he and Trina continued their conversation. Half an hour later, the sun started setting and the wind started to pick up.

Derrick was pretty disappointed when he was forced to go take a bath. We decided to eat at the dining table instead of outside. Trina and Kate would clean the kitchen. Stephen, Nathan, Sebastian, Derrick, and I moved into the living room. After a few minutes of surfing the TV, we decided to watch SpongeBob.

“Stephen,” Sebastian called. He nodded toward the pool table. “How about a game?”

“You want me to beat your ass again?”

“You won ’cuz I let you win,” he said as he stood. “Want to play, baby?” Stephen asked me.

I shook my head. “Maybe another time. You’d have to teach me first before I take a risk on playing in front of the others.”

Chuckling, he pecked my lips then moved his lips to my ear. “I look forward to teaching you.”

I watched them play for a few minutes before turning to Nathan. He was focused on the TV like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Shifting closer, I leaned forward to catch his attention. “Can I ask you something?”

“That depends on what you want to ask,” he muttered, keeping his voice as low as mine.

“Why did your mother go to prison?”

His face gave nothing away, but I didn’t miss the flash of anger in his eyes. Leaning forward, he glanced at Stephen before looking back at me. “It’s not my place to tell you, Alia.”

It was all he said before getting up and disappearing up the stairs. Between watching the guys and the TV, I started feeling sleepy. Every time my eyes would flutter closed, I would force them open again. I didn’t want to go to sleep because I knew the nightmares would follow. It would ruin the amazing day I’d had so far. I didn’t want it to end.

“Time for bed,” Kate called from somewhere.

“But Mommy!”

“I said it’s time for bed, Derrick,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Let’s go.”

I gave Derrick a small smile as he got up from the carpet. “Night, sport.”

“Night, Li,” he muttered as he hugged me. “Thank you for making Mommy bring me.”

I frowned as I watched them walk up the stairs. Kate barely spent any time with him at home, and even here she didn’t bother playing with him on the beach. Why was she acting like that?

“I think I’m going to go, too,” Trina said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Me too.” Sebastian smirked at Stephen. “We’ll see you guys in the morning.”

I watched silently as they walked up the stairs, hand in hand. When they disappeared out of sight, I turned to Stephen. He was putting away everything. My eyes trailed over him. Trina was right; he looked more relaxed.

“Like what you see, baby?”

I shook my head, following him with my eyes as he approached me. “You’ll look so much better naked.”

Stephen chuckled as he sat down next to me. Swinging his arm around the back of the couch, he grabbed the remote. “I’m sure it can be arranged.”

Heat seared through me as the image of his naked body flashed through my mind. Shifting on the couch, I wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his lips down to mine. He groaned, gripping my hips to pull me onto his lap. His tongue stroked my bottom lip before delving between them and into my mouth. My stomach tightened when he sucked on my tongue.

“Not here, baby,” he muttered as he broke the kiss.

I realized that I was trying to pull his shirt off. Stephen pecked my lips one more time before moving me off his lap. My eyes dropped from his as rejection flashed through me. He pulled me against his side before cupping my cheek and forcing my eyes up to his.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said softly. “I want to, but after what happened this afternoon…I can’t, baby.”

“You already apologized, and you told me why you did it. So why is it bothering you?”

His hand dropped from my face as he turned his head away from me. Without saying a word, he got up and walked into the kitchen. I sat silently as he pulled the sliding door closed and locked it. After doing the same to the front door and making sure all the windows were closed, he faced me.

“You said you’re fine, but I’m not. What I did…it makes me hurt knowing that I hurt you. The blood and the look on your face, it’s something that will always be stuck in my mind.”

“You took my virginity.” I gave him a small smile. “There was bound to be blood, Stephen.”

He shook his head as he walked toward me. Sitting back on the couch so he was half facing me, he grabbed my hands.

“I could’ve hurt you so badly with my piercing, Alia. The blood wasn’t just from me breaking your hymen; it was from my piercing as well.”

“We can’t have sex with your piercing on?” I asked him, feeling slightly shocked.

“We can.” Stephen chuckled. “But not for your first time. It’ll hurt more.”

“Oh.”

Giving me a small smile, he pulled me off the couch as he stood. I followed him silently up the stairs and into my bedroom. Stephen cupped my cheeks and pressed a kiss against my lips.

“I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll sneak into your bed.”

Chapter Nineteen

I woke up alone in bed. It was a surprise that I managed to sleep the whole night through without any nightmares. True to his word, Stephen had snuck into my bed as soon as everyone fell asleep. Rolling onto my back, I stretched my body and then relaxed back into the soft mattress. The sun was just starting to rise. I sat up to listen if everyone else was moving around.

I heard the distinctive sound of something banging against the wall followed by moans. My cheeks heated as I rushed around the room to get dressed. Opening my door slightly, I peeked up and down the hall. The sound was coming from the bedroom right down the hall. I stepped out into the hall and pulled my bedroom door closed behind me.

“Ah, fuck!”

The exclamation made me stumble slightly. With heated cheeks, I raced down the stairs and straight to the kitchen. As my hand closed around one of the cups, the banging started up again. I instantly pulled back and decided to go for a walk on the beach instead. The wind was a little stronger than it was yesterday. It whipped my hair around my face. I stared at the big waves rolling up and crashing into white foam on the sand. Sucking in a deep breath, I allowed my head to drop back with my eyes fluttering closed.

What would it feel like to wake up to this every morning? My eyes snapped open as two strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. I glanced over my shoulder. Stephen’s eyes caught mine only briefly before his lips smashed onto mine. I tried to turn around, but he kept me in place. Once of his hands trailed up over my stomach, between my breasts, and then settled on my neck. He guided my head back to deepen the kiss. He tasted like coffee. I moaned, raising my hands to wrap them around his neck. His arm tightened around my waist. I could feel his arousal growing against my ass. Breaking the kiss, his lips trailed down my neck to my collarbone. His teeth sank into my skin slightly.

“Morning, baby,” he said huskily. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm,” I hummed as I turned around in his arms. “I slept great.”

“I thought you’d be asleep for a couple of more hours.”

My eyes dropped to his chest. He was only wearing a pair of black shorts. His chest was on full display and glistering with sweat.

“I would’ve, but…uuuh…Sebastian and Trina are being pretty loud.”

He chuckled. “This is nothing, baby. You should’ve heard them the last time we went camping.”

A giggle fell from my lips, but it died down when my eyes locked with his. They were filled with heat, which made my body respond in return. I could feel my panties dampening. The last time he looked at me like that, he had fingered me until I begged him to stop.

“Everyone else still asleep?” he whispered against my lips.

I nodded. His hands gripped my ass to pull me flush against him. I parted my lips to allow his tongue entrance. Stephen’s hands trailed down the back of my thighs. He groaned as he lifted me and guided my legs around his waist. I didn’t care that anyone could see us; I wanted him so badly. My hips grinded against his as he started walking. I was briefly aware of us entering the house and moving toward the stairs. He paused only to push me against the wall. His hands on my ass squeezed tightly before moving up and then beneath the material of my shorts. His hips were following the movement of mine, making a moan slip into his mouth.

My stomach tightened as that familiar pull started from within me. I pulled my lips from his to throw my head back against the wall. Stephen kissed down my neck to my collarbone then up again.

“Do we have to wait?” I breathed.

He groaned, pulling back to look at me. “Yes, we have to wait.”

He leaned down. I thought he was going to bury his face in my neck again, but he didn’t. Stephen bit my nipple. The action was unexpected and the pain made me crash over the edge. His free hand slipped over my mouth to silence my cry. Stephen pressed his face against my neck as his body shuddered against mine.

“My birthday better come soon.”

“Ditto, baby.”

***

Stephen didn’t touch me again after that morning. He kept his distance from me in a way that made me think that I might’ve done something wrong. Sometimes he would give me a peck on the cheek before pulling away again. He didn’t even sneak into my bed anymore! As the week passed, we got into an easy routine. We would take turns cooking and cleaning up. If we weren’t on the beach, we would stay inside to watch a movie or play some board games Sebastian found.

I was having fun even if Stephen was acting weird. The nightmares seemed to have disappeared, and the only thing keeping me up at night was Trina and Sebastian. As my birthday neared, the excitement became uncontrollable. I was looking forward to having sex with Stephen. The anticipation made me horny.

Two days before my birthday, I decided to use the hair removal cream. Let’s just say the feeling was alien.

Things were going absolutely great until Kate decided it would be a good idea to go clubbing. We were just finishing breakfast when she brought it up.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” she exclaimed. “Tomorrow is Alia’s birthday. It’s the perfect time to go clubbing to celebrate.”

“Alia and I already have plans for tomorrow,” Stephen spoke up.

My eyes snapped to him in surprise. He didn’t mention anything about plans for my birthday. I just figured we’d spend the day with them and head to my bedroom when the day was over.

“What plans?”

Stephen glanced at me. “It’s a surprise,” he muttered, giving me a wink.

“So we go tonight,” Kate said.

My smile dropped as I turned to frown at her. “What about your son?”

“I can get a babysitter.”

“You want to bring a stranger into this house to look after your son?” Nathan questioned her. “Don’t be fucking stupid, Kate.”

“I’m not fucking stupid!” She pushed the chair back as she stood. “Excuse me for wanting to celebrate my best friend’s birthday!”

I watched silently as she stormed off. Celebrating my birthday had never bothered her this much. All we ever did was go to the movies and then our favorite restaurant. Was she pissed because she knew we’d be having sex? Not even a second later, she stormed back into the kitchen.

“If we can’t go out, then we’ll celebrate at home, and since you’re”—she pointed between Stephen and me—“going out tomorrow, we’re doing this tonight.”

I blinked at her. My mouth opened, but before I could say anything, she stormed off again. Shaking my head, I glanced around at them. Stephen had his lips pursed as he stared down at the table. Nathan looked beyond pissed—I totally understood why he was.

“Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious.”

Kate was in her room searching through her clothes. She stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. Shaking my head, I took a seat on the edge of the bed. The shower turned on, making me groan. Her morning showers took at least an hour—it did since we got here.

Talking to her was going to have to wait until later.

Chapter Twenty

I hadn’t tried the water since we got here, so I decided to go change into my bikini—the one Stephen got me. Pulling a simple white dress over my head, I grabbed a towel and then headed downstairs. I ignored the guys in the living room and walked straight out. Throwing my towel open on the sand, I glanced around before pulling the dress over my head. Dropping it next to the towel, I walked toward the ocean.

The cold water lapped against my ankles, making me shiver. It was cold but refreshing. I walked deeper into the water. Once it reached my hips, I sucked in a breath and then dove into the water. The cool water felt amazing against my heated skin. When I resurfaced, I turned to float on my back. It was peaceful—just like my mind. I realized I was drifting farther away from shore, so I decided to go back. I dove back under the water and swam in the direction I came from.

The moment I came up for air, I cried out when I saw the body in front of me. My feet slipped from beneath me, which caused me to swallow a mouthful of water. Hands gripped my arms and pulled me up. I coughed and blinked rapidly to clear the saltwater from my eyes.

“Alia? Are you okay?”

My eyes locked onto Stephen’s concerned green ones. I managed a bright smile, but it was broken by another coughing fit. Stephen surprised me when he picked me up and walked through the water to the beach. He gently placed me down on my towel and rubbed my back.

“You scared me,” I managed to croak out.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I saw you dive under, and then you didn’t surface after a few minutes.”

“I have strong lungs.” I giggled, pressing a hand against my chest.

His eyes dropped. Stephen groaned and then leaned forward to press his lips against mine. Our lips barely touched when he pulled away again. I frowned up at him.

“I’m going to get something to drink.” He stood and took a few steps toward the house. “Want anything?”

“Some water, thank you.”

My eyes followed him until he disappeared into the house. What the hell was his problem? Did he decide that he wanted our deal to end? Does he not want me anymore? I laid down on my back and stared up at the bright sky. What if we finally had sex and he wasn’t satisfied? He had sex with Kate. Dread filled my stomach as I thought of that. What if Kate was better at it than me?

“Here.” My eyes snapped open. Stephen was hovering above me with a bottle held out.

I sat up and took it from him with a muttered thanks. Stephen nodded then dropped a towel and another bottle next to me before jogging toward ocean. I sighed then took a sip of the cold water. For a few minutes, I watched him. He seemed completely different—a good different. I sank back down onto my back. Sometimes men were so confusing.

***

Something cold dropped onto my leg then slowly slid down. I frowned, shifting slightly. I was having a wonderful dream. Stephen was pressing soft kisses against my legs. Sometimes he would stop to nibble the skin with his teeth before moving up again. I moaned, spreading my legs wider as he settled between them.

His lips paused at the junction of my thighs before moving to the band of my bikini bottoms. My back arched as his tongue dipped into my navel. Goosebumps broke out over my skin when his lips trailed up over my stomach. His hands gripped my sides. A low groan fell from my lips as my eyes fluttered open. I wasn’t dreaming. Stephen was actually settled between my legs with his lips pressed to my skin.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeking the warmth of your sun-kissed skin,” he muttered, watching me from beneath his lashes.

I gasped as his lips closed over my nipple through the fabric. He bit down slightly before soothing the pain with his tongue. I buried my fingers in his hair to keep him in place.

“What happened to not touching me at all?” I breathed. “You’ve been avoiding touching me.”

He raised his head and moved up my body until his face hovered over mine. “Since that day against the wall, I’ve been trying to keep my cool. Every second I spend touching you drives me closer to the edge.”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” I gasped as he settled his body fully against mine.

His dick pressed tight against my pussy. He was fully erect. Stephen licked his lower lip as he started thrusting his hips slowly.

“All I have to do is push your bikini aside and sink into you,” he breathed. “It’ll be as easy as that to fuck you right here.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” My hands trailed down his sides and to his hips.

He groaned. “Don’t tempt me, baby. Watching you walk around in this bikini is giving me a bad case of blue balls.” His lips brushed mine. “I have to think of my grandfather’s smelly old socks just to get my dick flaccid again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Absolutely fucking nothing.”

His lips smashed onto mine before I could say anything else. I moaned as his tongue slipped into my mouth. One of his hands trailed down my thigh and guided my leg over his hip. I did the same with my other leg. My head dropped to the side as he kissed down my neck to my collarbone. I dug my fingers into his skin when he started sucking and nibbling on the spot. My hips were moving along with his.

“Tomorrow is your birthday,” he said as he raised his head. “I can’t fucking wait to be buried deep inside that tight little pussy of yours.”

His words made my stomach quiver. The pressure started to build, but before I could crash over the edge, Stephen pulled away.

“Kate is coming this way,” he muttered. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning, so be ready. Pack an overnight bag just in case, and don’t forget the condoms.”

***

“Come on, Alia, don’t be a pussy.”

I stared down at the small glass with clear liquid in it. It could’ve been mistaken for water if it wasn’t for the strong smell. Derrick was fast asleep upstairs. Kate, Sebastian, Trina, and I sat around the small coffee table while Nathan and Stephen sat on the couch. My eyes drifted toward Stephen. He was watching me silently. Everyone else had already taken a shot except for those two and me. He even refused a beer. It left me speechless. Stephen had admitted to getting drunk before, so why was he refusing to tonight?

“Take the fucking shot, Alia,” Kate urged again. “Come on, babe.”

I swallowed, glancing down at the glass again. Unease settled in my stomach as I picked it up. My hand was shaking but thankfully not so bad that the liquid spilled. I glanced around the table as I raised it to my lips.

“Don’t take small sips. Just drink it in one go,” Sebastian said softly.

I sucked in a breath, opened my mouth, and then threw the drink down my throat. It burned all the way down into my stomach. I started coughing soon after. Kate started laughing, which made me glare at her.

“The night is still young, people.” She stood and gave us all bright smiles. “I made some jelly shots earlier. I’ll go get them.”

“I still can’t figure out how the hell you two became friends.” Sebastian shook his head.

“Me neither,” I muttered.

My throat still burned, but at least it hadn’t made me sick…yet. Kate returned after a few minutes with a tray. She held it toward Nathan and his brother, but they shook their heads. Shrugging, she took her seat on the floor again. Sebastian started dividing the shots.

“Not that one!” Kate suddenly cried out. “I made that one especially for my best friend. She likes blueberry flavor, and that was the only left,” she quickly explained as she grabbed the small glass and placed it in front of me.

After making sure everyone had a glass, she raised hers. “This is to my best friend. Cheers!”

I groaned, feeling my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. I can’t believe she just said that.

“Cheers.”

The jelly shot tasted better than the first, but it had a strange aftertaste. I refused any more drinks but kept my place on the floor.

“Let’s play poker!”

Chapter Twenty-One

The bed dipped, and seconds later, the sheet was pulled from my body. I groaned and opened my eyed slightly. A blurry figure caught my attention. I blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from my eyes. He bent down and placed something on the bedside table. Seconds later, lips gently brushed against my forehead, and then my cheek, before moving to my ear.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Stephen muttered.

I opened my eyes all the way and blinked up at him. He was already dressed with his hair still slightly wet from his shower. Stephen moved the hair from my face then leaned closer.

“We need to leave in twenty minutes. Do you think you could be ready before that?”

“Where are we going?” I croaked, sitting up.

Stephen handed me the cup he had placed on the bedside table. I sniffed at the coffee and then tentatively took a sip. He hadn’t answered my question. He brushed some hair away from his face as his eyes trailed over my face.

“You’re pale.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“I have slight headache, but I’m fine.”

He nodded and then got off the bed. “Wear something comfortable but not something you like.”

Before I could ask him what he meant, he walked out of the room. I finished my coffee and then took a quick shower. I wasn’t sure what to wear. After debating on it for at least two minutes, I decided on an old dress and some ballet flats. The material of the dress was faded, but it had pockets for my phone and some money. I tied my hair up into a high ponytail and then made a bun. Just as I grabbed my phone and stuffed some money into the cover, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

It opened a second later to reveal Stephen. I watched silently as he dropped his bag on the unmade bed. “Grab a pair of spare clothes for tomorrow and a box of condoms.”

“We’re not coming back tonight?”

“No, baby. We’ll be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” I walked into the bathroom and grabbed a box of condoms from the cabinet. I felt like I was going to explode with excitement as I grabbed a pair of clothes. There was also some apprehension because I didn’t know what Stephen had planned for us. The house was silent when we stepped out of the room, but the moment we descended the stairs, I heard the television. Nathan sat on the couch. It looked like he’d just woken up and he didn’t look happy about it. Stephen dropped the bag by the door and then turned toward Nathan.

“We should be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Of course,” Nathan muttered. “Just be safe.”

I barely caught the glimpse they shared before I was steered out of the house and into the cool morning air. He led me toward his truck. Stephen dropped the bag on the seat and then helped me inside before walking around the truck to the driver’s side.

“Ready?”

***

No matter how much I asked him where we were going, Stephen kept refusing to tell me anything. After about an hour on the road, we stopped at a roadhouse for breakfast before moving on. The scenery was beautiful once we left the town. There was nothing but long stretches of open spaces. Nature in its truest form.

My phone pinged and then started ringing. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday, dear Alia!”

I laughed. “Thank you, Patrick.”

“How are you? It’s a bummer you aren’t here.”

“Why?”

“I would’ve made sure you couldn’t remember shit about today.” He sobered instantly. “Has anyone else called you yet?”

I glanced at Stephen and then turned to stare out the window. “I haven’t checked my messages yet, but I’m sure I have some.”

“Check your messages and let me know. I’ll kick their asses if they forgot.”

“Thank you, I’ll remember that.”

“I have to go, Alia,” Patrick muttered after a few minutes. “I hope you enjoy your birthday.”

Once the call ended, I stared at the screen. There were no message notifications. No missed calls or emails. I swallowed then locked my phone and pushed it back inside the pocket.

“It’s still early, baby,” Stephen said softly. “They’re probably still sleeping.”

I nodded but said nothing. He was trying to cheer me up, so I didn’t mention the fact that my parents were probably already up.

“How much farther?”

He chuckled. “About half an hour.”

“Since we’re so close…” I trailed off. “Please?”

“I noticed you like music,” he said softly. “I was thinking of buying you the newest CD of your favorite band, but you don’t have one of those.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I went through your phone music to find out which you like the most, but turned out there was too much to choose from.”

“You still haven’t told me where you’re taking me.”

He winked at me then turned the truck onto a bumpy dirt road. Not even twenty minutes later, a makeshift parking lot was visible. My mouth fell open as I stared at the thousands of people. They stood in groups by their cars. Some couples leaned against their cars making out while others walked toward a large building. It took Stephen about thirty minutes to find a parking space that was close to the building. He parked the truck and then turned toward me.

“This place is dangerous no matter how much security they have. Sometimes things get out of hand, and I want you to be prepared. Whatever happens, try to stay by my side, but if we get separated, go to the security building and wait there for me. Don’t take any drinks from anyone—even if it’s free.”

“Got it,” I muttered. “Can we go now?”

He chuckled but opened his door. My eyes widened when he reached under his seat and pulled out a gun. I expected him to take it with him, but instead he locked it inside the glove box.

“Let’s go, baby.”

I took his hand and allowed him to help me out of the truck. He locked it then started walking toward the building. I felt a little overdressed as I glanced around. Almost everyone was half naked—men and women. The building was overflowing. There were three rows of people, and half of them stood outside the door. Stephen pulled me in front of him and gripped my hips.

“Keep walking,” he said against my ear.

I followed his instructions and pushed my way through the crowd. A lot of them gave me dirty looks and muttered curses under their breath. When we reached the front, I finally saw why everyone was waiting. They had those things where you had to walk through to check for weapons. Beyond that was a shack where a man handed over something. Stephen pulled me to a stop next to the machine. The guard that stood there turned to us with a frown.

“Is Johan in?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Stephen.”

He nodded then turned and walked over to a door. A minute later, he returned with a man behind him. He was the scariest man I’d ever seen. He was tall—a little taller than Stephen—and muscular. His head was shaved, and tattoos covered his skin. A jagged scar ran from his temple, across his left eye, down to his chin. Pale blue eyes caught mine briefly before darting behind me.

“Daniels,” he muttered gruffly, “and…girl. Come through to the back.” He led us past the security guard and down a short hall, straight into a small room.

“You’re lucky,” Johan muttered as he picked up a box. “Tickets were sold out after the first week.”

“That’s why I called as soon as I heard about it.”

I stood silently by the door as they talked. Johan handed two purple bands and two tickets to Stephen. After some more small talk, we finally walked out of the room. Johan escorted us to the open doors beyond the ticket booths. I sucked in a sharp breath the moment we stepped outside of the building. Everywhere I looked, people were mulling about. It was like a festival. There were games set up, people selling stuff, and rides. Stephen gripped my hand and led me deeper between the stalls. The further we moved, the more I started to understand why the people were barely dressed.

“This is only the beginning, baby.”

It was hot, but the heat did nothing to dampen my excitement. With the purple armbands, we were able to go on all the rides without paying. We even played some games, but we didn’t succeed in winning anything until later on. Stephen managed to shoot out all the balloons within a few seconds. The manager wasn’t very happy when he handed me the big blue teddy bear. It was about three o’clock when the fun really started.

The music could probably be heard from miles away. After dropping the bear off at the office, we made our way toward the stage. We got a front row seat of all the action. Someone was spraying water into the crowd while someone else was throwing paint powder. I laughed as we were hit with pink paint from somewhere behind us. Stephen was standing behind me with his arms on either side of me. A new song started playing, one I actually knew. I cheered along with the crowd then started singing. All of my problems were pushed away; it was just me and Stephen.

Stephen sang along, his lips brushing my ear.

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His hands moved to my hips as his body slowly started moving. My body was starting to heat up the more we moved. The fact that he was also aroused didn’t go unnoticed by me. Halfway through the next song, thunder sounded above us, and a second later, it started raining. Stephen gripped my hand and tugged me through the crowd toward cover. Most of them didn’t seem to mind the rain, but it started falling harder soon after.

“Let’s go,” he urged, tucking on my hands.

I sucked in a breath, and then we were running through the rain. We picked up my teddy bear and made our way toward the truck. By the time we reached it, we were soaking wet.

“Damn,” Stephen muttered, wiping his hair back from his face.

I giggled and then started laughing as I saw the look on his face. “We should’ve stayed to dance in the rain,” I said.

“And risk you getting sick? Not a chance.”

“Where are we going?” I questioned as the truck slowed to a stop.

Most of the people had decided to leave since the rain was falling harder—which meant we were stuck in traffic.

“To a hotel.”

The rest of the drive was filled with silence. I could barely see anything outside the windows, so I knew he was having a hard time driving. It was when it started hailing that he viciously cursed and pulled over. The only sound to be heard was the hail falling on the roof of the truck and against the windows. I was starting to get cold from the wet clothes.

“Stephen?” He looked at me with questioning eyes. “How long do you think we have to stay here?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“I’m starting to get cold,” I whispered.

He cursed again then opened his door slightly. “Stay here.”

He was out of the truck before I could say anything. The longer he stayed away, the more I started to worry. I was just about to climb out and search for him when the door opened. Stephen climbed in and slammed the door shut. He was shivering—his lips slightly blue. Stephen rubbed his hands together and then started the truck.

“I-is your seatbelt on?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

I clung to the seat, and he made a U-turn and sped down the way we came. We only drove for about four minutes before he stopped again. He switched off the truck then turned toward me slightly.

“We’re not going to make it to our next destination with the rain. It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon.” He paused, sucking in a breath. “I’m going to go and find out if they have room for us and then come get you. Lock the doors when I’m out.”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

“Because I don’t want you to run around in the rain. I’ll be back soon, baby.”

Half an hour passed before he returned. Stephen knocked on my window then pulled open the door as soon as I unlocked it. He held an umbrella in one hand.

“Grab the bag,” he yelled to be heard over the rain.

I grabbed the bag from beneath the seat and the keys from the ignition. The hotel was small—it was more like a B and B. An elderly woman smiled at us when we stepped inside. Stephen handed over the umbrella after closing it.

“There’s a diner just around the corner. They have some amazing food.”

“Thank you.” Stephen smiled. “We’ll go get some once we’re settled.”

“Have a good night!”

He led me down a hall and up a set of stairs to the second floor. A minute later, we stepped into a clean, cosy-looking room. It was small with the walls painted a light pink. A white carpet decorated the floor. To the left was a wardrobe that stood beneath a window. A double bed sat in the middle of the room. My eyes were drawn to the wooden headboard above it. Someone had carved flowers and other shapes into it.

“Why don’t you go take a shower while I go get us some food?”

“You’re going out into the rain again?” I dropped the bag on the floor by the bed before turning. “I’m not really hungry, so you don’t have to go, that is, unless you’re hungry?”

“Not really.” He glanced around the room. “It’s going to be dark soon, and I’d rather get us food now.”

He wanted to escape from me. I nodded and then gave him a small smile. Stephen pressed a kiss against my forehead before disappearing. I bit my lip as my eyes filled with tears.

I could barely remember anything after we drank the shots last night. Did I do anything wrong? I tried to remember, but every time I got to the shots, everything beyond that was blank.

I shook my head and made my way into the bathroom. My eyes were drawn to the bath. It looked like one of those old ones you would find in historical buildings. I bypassed it and made my way over to the shower. I quickly pulled off my wet clothes and dropped them into the sink.

My phone was thankfully still working. I didn’t bother to check it; I just placed it down on the counter. It took a while for the water to heat, but when it did, I moaned in pleasure. Grabbing one of the sample shampoo bottles, I washed my hair. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed in the shower, but eventually I had to get out. Before I could, however, the shower door opened, which startled me. I gasped and almost slipped but managed to catch myself.

“You startled me,” I whispered, pressing my hand against my chest.

“Didn’t you hear me come in?” Stephen asked as he closed the shower door.

I shook my head. He frowned but didn’t say anything as he stepped under the water with his back to me.

“Stephen? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Why?”

“I feel like you don’t want to be here with me.”

“I don’t.” I winced.

Pain and rejection flashed through me. Blinking back the tears, I reached for the shower door. A hand gripped my wrist before I could push it open. Stephen turned me and then wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me against him.

“I don’t want to be here with you, but not in the way you think. I want to be with you in the other room I booked for us. The one right at the beach with a great view of the ocean. Where a bunch of candles had been set around the room and a trail of roses led to the bed.” I stared up at him in shock. Did I hear correctly? Roses and candles? “You wanted it to be special even if you said you didn’t,” he whispered. “I wanted to make it special for you because I knew how important it could be.”

“Stephen…” I trailed off, not sure what to say.

He gave me a small smile and then leaned down to brush his lips against mine. Stephen stepped back so both of us stood under the water. One of his hands trailed up my back and then down to grip my ass. I moaned, pressing myself tighter against him.

“Say the words, baby,” he whispered against my neck.

“I want you to take me. I want you to make me yours.”

His lips found mine again. I moaned as his hand slipped between my legs. Stephen stepped forward and pressed me against the wall. He stepped away all of a sudden, and his hands disappeared from my body.

“There’s something on the bed for you to wear. I’ll give you five minutes before I’ll join you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I expected there to be some sexy clothes or even underwear, but what I didn’t expect was the small square box in the middle of the bed. I gripped the towel tighter in front of my chest as I took hesitant steps forward. My hand was shaking when I picked it up. The velvet felt soft against my skin. Sucking in a shaky breath, I opened it. Inside rested a sterling silver necklace. The pendant was small but easily eye-catching.

Blinking back tears, I gently pulled the necklace from the box. Wings were attached to the chains with a small heart crystal in the middle between the wings.

“You remind me of an angel.”

My head snapped up and toward him. Stephen stood in the doorway with his eyes focused on me. He gave me a small smile before straightening and making his way toward me.

“Before I met you, I was stuck in the darkness.”

“Stephen…”

“You brought light with you the moment you stepped into that café. My life was hell after my grandmother died. I had no direction or meaning. I liked to fuck around with people, hurt them so I could feel better about myself. I pushed everyone that cared about me away because I didn’t want to feel what I felt when I watched my grandmother being lowered into the ground.” He sucked in a breath. “You are different than all those other girls I fucked. You mean more to me than any of them ever did.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Tears were threatening to spill over. Stephen stopped right in front of me. His eyes trailed over my face before dropping to the necklace. He reached out, and I could see the slight tremor in his hand.

“Turn around, baby. Let me put this on.”

I turned and then pulled my wet hair out of the way so he could fasten the necklace around my neck. Stephen pressed a kiss against my shoulder before turning me around to face him. He kept his eyes locked with mine as he gently pulled the towel from my body. I sucked in a shaky breath when he leaned down to press a kiss against my collarbone. His lips traced a line to my shoulder then back up to my neck. Stephen pulled me against him as his lips caught mine.

I was barely aware of him picking me up and lowering me to the bed. He came down next to me and started stroking my skin with his hand. Excitement washed through me when he massaged my breasts. His lips trailed down my neck again. I gasped when his lips closed around my nipple. He sucked the bud into his mouth while using his tongue to trace my nipple. Letting go, he kissed to its twin before doing the same. My back arched off the bed. My pussy was clenching in anticipation. I wanted him inside me.

“Please…Stephen,” I cried.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want you,” I breathed, glancing down at him. “I need you.”

“I’m all yours, baby.”

If only he meant those words in every sense. I wanted his heart. I wanted him to love me just like I loved him. Stephen pushed himself up onto his knees. I watched as he pulled the towel from his waist. My eyes trailed over his tanned and inked skin. He was so fucking sexy, and he was all mine. But for how long? My stomach quivered when he pulled a condom from the box. He ripped it open with his teeth and then gripped his length. I licked my lips. My gaze was glued to his dick as he slowly stroked himself.

A second later, he rolled the condom on. I watched as he pinched the tip before rolling it down all the way. His eyes caught mine again as he gripped my legs and pushed them apart. Stephen moved closer then settled between my legs. I could feel a blush spreading over my body as his eyes trailed over me. I liked it when he looked at me like that.

“You want me here?” he whispered, trailing a single finger down my slit.

I raised my hips. His hands trailed up my legs to my thighs. He gripped them gently and guided my legs over his. Stephen’s eyes were focused on my pussy. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he stared. I sucked in another shaky breath when his hand trailed over my pubic bone.

“So fucking sexy.”

“Stop teasing, Stephen.”

He smirked. “But I love watching your body’s reaction when I touch you. I love it when you beg me.”

Before I could utter another word, his body covered mine. Stephen caught my lips in a sweet kiss. I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck. I was lost in him. In his taste. In his smell. A gasp fell from my lips when I felt the tip of his dick enter me. Without wanting to, my body tensed. Unconsciously, I was waiting for the unbearable pain that would follow his intrusion.

“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered against my lips.

I opened my eyes to stare up at him. His lips were pursed, but his eyes were alive with different emotions.

“I won’t hurt you, Alia. Not this time.”

I forced my body to relax against his. Stephen gave me a small smile as he gripped my thigh and then guided my leg around his waist. He pulled out and then slowly pushed back in. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. They fluttered closed but then open again when he shifted above me. He leaned on his elbow then reached between our bodies. I glanced down. The sight of our bodies joined made another wave of excitement flash through me. His hand appeared in my vision. A second later, his thumb pressed down against my clit.

“Ah!” I cried out, dropping my head back onto the pillow.

Stephen continued to play with my clit as he pushed his length deeper into my pussy. It was a pleasure overload. The constant pressure against my clit and the feeling of him stretching me. Stephen muttered something under his breath. He pulled his hand from between our bodies and used it to keep his weight off me.

“Wrap your legs higher around me,” he ordered huskily.

I did as he said, hooking my legs higher around his waist. My eyes trailed over his face. I could see the strength it took to keep himself still. Stephen looked down at me then glanced between our bodies. Something inside him just seemed to snap. He pulled back, almost all the way out of me, before slamming back inside me. I moaned, reaching up to grip his arms. He lowered his weight onto his elbows before moving again. I clung to him as wave after wave of pleasure washed through me. It felt better than his fingers. It felt better than anything I’d ever fucking felt. Stephen shifted his hips. I cried out as he hit something inside me that made me see stars.

“Stephen…” I begged him, but I didn’t know why.

“I know,” he whispered.

His lips caught mine again. Stephen used his tongue to mimic the motion of our bodies. I was the one to break the kiss so I could suck in air. That familiar pull started from within me. My stomach tightened. Stephen kissed down my neck then nibbled the skin beneath my ear. He sucked on the spot for a few seconds before moving lower. He did the same on my chest before sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. My legs tightened around his waist. My nails dug into his skin. And then I was screaming as I crashed over the edge. Stephen groaned, his movements slightly slowing, but he didn’t stop. He drew out my orgasm until I was a quivering mess beneath him, and even then he didn’t stop moving. One of his hands moved down to grip my hip while his other hand cupped my cheek.

“Look at me,” he breathed.

I forced my eyes open. They instantly locked with his inches above my own. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine. Sweat made it easier for our bodies to slide against each other as we moved. Stephen’s grip on my hip tightened. He kept my body pressed to the mattress. His thumb stroked my cheek, chin, and neck as he stared at me. With surprise, I felt my stomach tightening again. This time when I crashed over the edge, Stephen followed me. His cry echoed around the room along with mine. His big body shuddered against mine as his movements became jerky. He kept moving, prolonging both our orgasms.

“I should probably move,” Stephen muttered, minutes later.

Our heartbeats had slowed along with our breathing. My body was completely satisfied. All I wanted to do now was go to sleep, but I knew that would look bad.

“Baby,” his lips brushed my neck, “let go.”

I slowly loosened my arms from his neck so he could pull back. His eyes instantly caught mine.

“Did I hurt you?” I shook my head. “Are you okay?”

I gave him a nod. His lips twitched, and then he finally gave up and allowed the smile to slip onto his face. I found myself smiling back at him. Although he actually took my virginity at the side of the road, he certainly made up for it by planning this. What happened that day would never be forgotten, but at least memories of today would follow.

“I left you speechless, baby. That’s a first.” He pressed a kiss to my lips before shifting. I moaned as he slowly pulled out of my body. My body felt extremely sensitive after two orgasms.

“Where are you going?”

“To get rid of the condom,” he said. “Then I’ll return and we could start all over again.”

***

I definitely underestimated Stephen. This was a sight of him I hadn’t seen before, but I loved it. We spent almost the whole day in bed. The only time we got up was to eat and take another shower before falling into bed again. By the time the sun started rising, we finally fell asleep. We slept for a total of two hours before we had to get up again. Stephen checked us out of the hotel before leading me to the diner. We had a light breakfast, and then we were on the road again. Conversation was limited, but that was only because I fell asleep. By the time we reached the beach house, I felt completely refreshed. The same couldn’t be said for Stephen.

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” I suggested as I pulled my teddy bear from the seat.

“That’s a good idea, baby. Will you join me?”

I laughed but shook my head. “Then there won’t be any sleeping involved. You really do look tired. It makes me feel bad that I didn’t offer to drive back.”

His arm wrapped around my waist. “If I allowed that, then we probably wouldn’t have made it back. We’re both tired, baby. Don’t feel bad for anything. The sleepless night was totally worth it.”

My face was still red when we entered the house. Kate was sitting on the couch pretending to be interested in whatever movie was playing. Derrick was playing on the floor with some of his cars.

“Where is everyone?” Stephen asked as he closed the front door.

Kate looked up then. Her green eyes were filled with anger. That’s when I realized how tense her body was. “Your cousin and his girlfriend went out.”

“And my brother?”

“How the hell should I know? I’m not his fucking keeper!” I winced, my eyes snapping to Derrick. He seemed oblivious to his mother’s angry words.

“That’s no way to speak in front of Derrick.”

Kate laughed as she jumped up from the couch. “Don’t do that. You can’t do that. That’s no way to do that! He’s my fucking kid. I can do what I want in front of him!”

“Where are you going?” I called as she stormed out. “Kate!”

I dropped the bear on the couch and ran after her. She was already halfway down the drive by the time I caught up. “What’s wrong?”

“What a stupid fucking question.” She laughed. “Everything is fucking wrong, Alia! I came here to have fun, to go to clubs and get drunk, and to forget about the fact that I have a kid. And then you fucking ruin it.”

“Kate—”

“Don’t! Just leave me alone, Alia.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Are you ready?” I glanced up into the mirror.

Stephen stood behind me. I could feel his eyes trailing over me, and that made me feel slightly self-conscious. It was their last night here, so we decided to go out. Of course Derrick would be going with us. After some discussion, we decided to go to the movies and have dinner after it.

“Almost,” I muttered, applying some lip-gloss. “Now I’m done.”

I turned around to face him. Smoothing my hands down my hips, I raised my head. Stephen was silently staring at me. It felt like hours before he moved. He took a small step forward until we stood almost chest to chest.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

“Really? It’s not too much?”

He shook his head as his eyes trailed over me again. “It is perfect, baby.”

“Was there a reason you told me to wear a dress?”

The familiar, sexy smirk appeared on his face. Stephen gave me a wink and then leaned forward to peck my lips. “You’ll see.”

Half an hour later, we arrived at the mall. Sebastian and Trina were making sure everybody was feeling relaxed. Nathan still looked grim and didn’t say much. As for Kate, she was acting like her old self. My eyes fell on Derrick. Something inside me felt bad for him. In all the time I’d known Kate, she never once gave any sign that she regretted having Derrick. Sebastian and Trina decided to watch an action movie. Derrick wanted to watch some cartoon, so Nathan agreed to watch it with him. I had to choose which one I wanted to watch. It was a hard choice because there weren’t really any good movies showing. I decided on a romantic comedy. Kate set out on her own.

“Stephen?” Sebastian called from somewhere behind us. “How was the music festival?”

He squeezed my hand before glancing over his shoulder. “Amazing.”

My cheeks heated. I somehow got the feeling that he wasn’t talking about the music festival.

“Ladies, I think it’s time we do some shopping while we’re here.”

“I agree,” Trina called out.

They turned to me. I shrugged. After a long kiss from Stephen and a promise to meet up at the movie theatre in half an hour, we were off. I kept myself mostly on the sidelines as they shopped. They went all out buying things they didn’t really need. Kate had managed to push me into the dressing room at one time, but I quickly refused to buy the clothes. They made me feel trashy. Definitely not my style.

“You never told me how your birthday went,” Kate said.

I glanced up at her from where I was browsing some dresses marked off. “It was great.”

“Did you do anything interesting?”

“Of course they did!” Trina suddenly appeared. “There are a lot of things to do at a music festival. Especially the one they went to.”

“It was fun,” I agreed. “Lots of games and stuff to buy. The music was also great, but the rain ruined the fun. We had to stop at a hotel because it started hailing.”

“I bet that only led to other activities,” Trina teased.

I blushed and quickly turned away so they couldn’t see my face. Oh, it led to other activities all right—activities that had been repeated a few times since our return. We decided to explore one last shop before meeting the boys. Trina instantly disappeared once we entered it. I decided to follow Kate instead of going off on my own.

“Did you guys have sex?”

I was knocked sideways by her question. “Kate—”

“I’m just a friend who wants to know if her best friend had a night worth remembering.”

I stared at her. There were no signs of the anger or resentment I was used to seeing there.

“Look, I’m sorry about the other day. You know my father has been seeing that blond bimbo—no offense.” She turned around and walked further down the row of clothes. “I just found out that they’re getting married. I never really liked her, and I made sure he knew that. He said it wasn’t serious. I was angry at him, so I just lashed out.”

I could feel eyes burning into my back, but when I turned around, I only saw the shoppers. They were all busy with their own things. An uneasy feeling crept into my stomach. I pushed it aside as I tried to concentrate on what Kate was saying. A slap on my arm made me gasp in pain. I turned to glare at Kate.

“I’ve been asking the same question five times,” she said. Her voice rose slightly in the end. “Did you have sex?”

“Yes.” I instantly turned away from her.

“Was it any good?”

“Yes, Kate, it was good. Not that I have anything to compare it to.”

Her eyes stayed glued to my face until I looked away. A few minutes later, she asked me something that made me freeze.

“Does he know you love him?”

My heartbeat got louder and my legs felt shaky. I wiped my sweaty hands against my legs before turning to her.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I know that look, Alia. I’ve seen it enough times to realize what it means. You’re in love with him.”

“So what if I am?”

“I can’t believe you actually fell for someone like him,” Kate muttered. “You’re naïve and too nice to realize it. What do you really know about Stephen?”

“I know enough about him to know he’s a good guy.”

She laughed. After inspecting a dress meant for a stripper for a few seconds, she finally turned toward me. “You only see what he wants you to see, dear Alia.”

She shook her head. “You should have seen him the day I met him at the bar. He was nothing like he is now. Stephen wanted control. He was rough and dominant when we went to that hotel room. I had bruises for days after. When he was fucking me, I could see something in his eyes. Something dark.”

I felt sick. It felt like someone was stabbing me over and over with a knife in my chest.

“When you started dating, I did some research. You’re too sweet and innocent to be with someone like him. The things I heard about him Alia…” She trailed off.

“W-what did you hear?” I managed to force the words past my dry lips.

“He has a criminal record. Was arrested for domestic violence and for murder. Apparently he killed one of his girlfriends—beat her to death. Stephen walked away without being prosecuted. Years later he was put under investigation for killing an innocent man.” Her hands gripped my upper arms. “I know men like him. I’ve been in a relationship with one. They act all sweet and everything in the beginning, and then they snap. I don’t want to see that happen to you. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want you to wake up and find yourself in an abusive relationship.”

“I—” I broke off, rubbing my forehead.

Her words were rolling over and over in my mind. I couldn’t imagine Stephen like that. He wasn’t an abusive man. What about what happened that day at the side of the road? that voice in the back of my head questioned. A shudder raced through me as I remembered. He didn’t mean to hurt me. I saw what it did to him once he realized he was hurting me. He could’ve been acting.

“I’m not feeling so good,” I whispered, avoiding her eyes. “Would you tell them I took a taxi back to the house?”

Without waiting for a reply, I walked away. I could hear Trina calling after me. What if Kate was right? What if he only acted sweet in the beginning? What if he snapped again and there’s a repeat of what happened the last time? I instantly felt bad for thinking of him like that. In my heart, I knew Stephen would never do that to me. But my head was telling me differently. I shook my head firmly. Stephen wasn’t like that. He would never be like that! My phone fell from my hand as I bumped into someone. I didn’t have any time to catch myself. A gasp fell from my lips when my knee and hand scraped against the tar.

“I’m so sorry, miss.”

I glanced up at the man looming over me. I was hit with a feeling of familiarity as I stared at him. Green eyes with blue specs caught mine briefly before dropping.

“I’m sorry. You’re bleeding. Let me clean that up. It could get infected,” he said, leaning down to grip my arm. “You never know what people do in the parking lot.”

I allowed him to pull me up, but the moment he started tugging me toward a white van, I pulled back.

“Come on, girl,” the man grunted. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Let go,” I yelled. “Let go, you asshole!”

“Fucking hell, Alia. I thought you’d be timider.” His words made shock flash through me. I stopped struggling, and that was all it took for him to get a good grip on my wrist.

“I’ll get a lot of money for a prude like you.” He chuckled. “Get in the van, Alia.”

I struggled to think clearly. Patrick taught me self-defense, but I couldn’t remember a single one of them. We were getting closer and closer to the van. The parking lot was deserted. Movement from the corner of my eyes caught my attention.

“Help! Help me!”

The man cursed. I was too focused on the group standing a few feet away. I kept on screaming as I tried to pull my arm free. A cry fell from my lips when I felt him push a needle into my upper arm. It stung for a few seconds and then the pain faded. My whole body was numb within seconds. I blinked. I tried to open my mouth, but my body wouldn’t follow the command.

“Feels frustrating, doesn’t it?” he whispered against my ear. “You can hear and see everything, but you can’t move. You can’t do anything, princess.”

Tears filled my eyes as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I hung limply as he made his way toward the van. A shout echoed around the empty lot. I wanted to laugh in relief. The man cursed as he spun around. More people started yelling. This time they sounded closer. I was pulled from his shoulder and placed on the ground. I stared up at the man as he hovered over me.

His lips pulled up into a grim smile. “I wasn’t so lucky this time, but I promise you next time he won’t be able to save you.”

My head dropped to the side as he pulled his fingers from my chin. I had no choice but to watch his black work boots as he ran away. A few seconds later, the van drove off before disappearing.

“Alia!”

More tears fell down my cheeks. I wanted to move. I wanted to run to him and feel his arms around me. I wanted Stephen to tell me that everything would be okay. But I couldn’t.

“Oh my God. Alia? Can you hear me?”

I swallowed as I tried to answer her question. My mouth felt like a desert. Trina gently cupped my cheeks and turned my head. I blinked up at her. The words she spoke were drowned out by the shouts and cries from other people. Trina grabbed her phone and dialed a number before pressing it against her ear. I kept my eyes focused on her lips as I tried to figure out what she was saying. The call ended too soon. Her eyes trailed over my body before locking with mine. She leaned forward and reached out to pull my dress back in place.

“Stephen is coming. Just hold on,” she whispered.

There was a slight edge of panic in her voice that I didn’t understand. Minutes passed before Sebastian arrived by our side. His eyes trailed over my body, stopping briefly on my legs and arm. He gave me a small smile before turning his attention to Trina. With a hand on her shoulder, he muttered soothing words. What felt like hours later, Stephen arrived. Sebastian pulled Trina aside so Stephen could kneel in front of me. He gently moved me onto my back.

“Where does it hurt, baby?”

“She’s not speaking,” Trina whispered. “And it appears that she’s not able to move.” I stared up at his blurry figure above me. Everything in me was yearning for him. Why can’t I move?

“Alia,” he said softly, cupping my cheek. “I need you to listen to me. Blink twice for yes and once for no. Do you understand?”

I blinked twice.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

No. I blinked once.

“Did he give you something to drink?”

I blinked.

“Did he inject you?”

I blinked twice.

“What did he do to her?”

“She was injected with a drug. The drug takes away her normal body functions. Alia can hear and see us, but she’s not able to react to anything,” Stephen explained.

Someone yelled something, and a second later the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. Stephen wrapped an arm behind my back and gently pulled me up against his chest.

His lips brushed against my forehead. “I’m here, baby. Nothing will happen to you.”

***

I felt like shit. Every slightly movement made me wince. There was a bandage against my knee and one against my palm. My head felt foggy, and my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth. I swallowed and then winced. God, I felt awful. With a deep breath, I slowly opened my eyes. I blinked rapidly to clear the sleep. Darkness surrounded me. From the slight breeze moving the curtains, I could see the moon’s light. The sound of the ocean outside was calming.

“You’re awake.” My eyes moved to the door where Stephen stood.

He hesitated slightly before stepping inside. The door stayed slightly ajar behind him. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” I croaked out. “I want water.”

Stephen nodded, and then muttering a soft “Be right back,” he walked out of the room again. I mentally prepared myself for the pain as I pushed myself up. My head started spinning, which made my stomach turn. With a grimace, I leaned back against the wall with my eyes closed. The door creaked as it was pushed open again. My body tensed and my eyes snapped open.

“It’s just me,” Stephen said softly as he entered the room.

He pushed the door shut behind him before reaching for the light switch. I blinked as bright light suddenly filled the room. I wasn’t in my room at the beach house. I was in a different room. His room. I drank the ice water eagerly. It felt soothing to feel the water trailing down my throat. When the glass was empty, he took it from me and gently placed it on the bedside table.

For a few minutes, he watched me silently. I noticed that he looked pale and extremely tired. I reached out a shaky hand and placed it against his cheek. Stephen let out a shaky breath. I blinked when he suddenly pulled me onto his lap. His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist and his face buried against my neck.

“Stephen?”

“Just let me hold you,” he breathed against my neck.

I swallowed back the tears as I wrapped my arms around his neck. A shiver raced down my spine when he started placing kisses along my neck. His hands trailed over my back and then to my hips. Without a word, he pulled the shirt from my body. His lips trailed down to my collarbone and then lower to my breasts. With shaking hands, he cupped them and then sucked one pebbled nipple into his mouth. I gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly as pleasure shot through my body. The pain was forgotten. All that mattered was him.

“Stephen, please,” I whispered against his ear.

His body shuddered against mine. Stephen glanced up at me. His eyes caught mine as one of his hands slipped between my legs. I parted them to give him more access to the place I wanted him to touch most. He trailed a finger down my slit over the material of my panties. Expertly, he played my body until I hovered on the edge. A whimper fell from my lips when he pulled his hand away. Without a word, he tugged my underwear down my legs. Dropping them to the floor, he pressed a kiss on the skin beneath my ear.

“Straddle me,” he whispered.

Stephen gripped my hips and raised me from his lap. I quickly moved my leg over his so I straddled him like he ordered.

“I was so worried,” he whispered. “I could’ve lost you.” His lips trailed over my face until he caught mine. I pressed myself closer against him, grinding my hips against the bulge in his sweats.

“Stephen,” I moaned against his lips. “I need you.”

“Me too, baby,” he said hoarsely.

Stephen reached between us and pulled the band of his pants down to reveal his aroused sex. He shifted slightly back onto the bed before gripping my hips. Our eyes locked as he slowly lowered me onto his dick. My mouth fell open in a silent moan as he stretched my body to accommodate his length.

“You’re not wearing your piercing.”

“No.”

His arm wrapped around my waist while his other hand gripped my thigh. He was pulsing inside me. I could feel every single inch of him.

“Alia.”

And then we were moving. I clung to him as memories of what happened filtered through my mind. If he had managed to catch me, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be with Stephen.

“My Alia,” he breathed against my lips. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Stephen,” I managed to gasp out. “Only yours.”

I cried out. My body tensed as I reached my peak. I bit down on his shoulder as another orgasm hit me. Stephen shuddered and then cried out. My eyes widened when I felt him grow bigger inside me. A second later, I felt heat fill me. Another small orgasm flashed through me, surprising me. Our ragged breathing filled the silent room. Stephen still clung to me just like I clung to him.

I love you, Stephen, I wanted to tell him, but instead I repeated it in my mind. Stephen couldn’t know. He would never find out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“How was your holiday, honey?”

“It was fun,” I muttered absentmindedly as I stirred my coffee.

Our vacation was cut short by a week. I decided it was best to leave with Stephen and Nathan. After what happened that night, I didn’t want to stay there a moment longer. Kate wasn’t happy about that. She had a fit and then walked off, only to return hours later. Something about her had changed. It scared me because I didn’t want to lose her. She was my best friend, the person I went to when I needed advice. Our vacation was going great until shit happened. Someone tried to kidnap me, and on top of that Stephen and I had unprotected sex. I still remembered the horror on his face when he realized it. The look in his eyes made my heart crack. He was pissed.

“Why the fuck didn’t you stop me?” he had yelled. “You should have fucking stopped, Alia. Fuck! Shit!”

After his angry outburst, he had stormed out of the room. He didn’t return till later that morning, and even then he didn’t utter a word to me. Things had been tense between us ever since. It wasn’t the same. He even made me take a pregnancy test before we left. Of course it was negative. I didn’t point out the fact that it was too early to take a test. He was so relieved. Tears sprang to my eyes when I remembered. I had two other pregnancy tests stashed in my bedroom. I hadn’t taken them yet.

“Alia?” my mom said softly.

I picked up my cup, composed my face, and then turned around to face her. “Yes?”

“Are you still mad at me?” She looked pale. Dark circles hung under her eyes. “I’m really sorry for lying to you. I know no matter what I say that it won’t make everything better. I just want you to understand what happened and why.”

My attention was snapped to the open back door. Michael sat on a blanket on the grass with Sam on his lap. Emma was chasing something. I watched as she said something that made him laugh. A deep yearning started within my chest.

“Did he ever hold me like that? Did he play with me and cuddle me like he does Sam?”

“Alia—”

“Just answer me, Mom. Did he?”

“Yes.” She paused. “He used to cuddle you and play with you before he found out.” All I could do was stare at her. There were no words to describe how I felt. I walked over to the sink and poured the cold coffee down the drain.

“Alia.” I stiffened when she placed her hand on my shoulder. “There are some things that I know you won’t understand. Please let me explain.”

“Not now,” I said, stepping away from her. “You’ve been hiding this from me for years. Were you ever planning on telling me?”

Her mouth fell open but then closed again. She briefly closed her eyes before reaching out a hand. I stepped out of reach before she could touch me.

“You know what hurts the most, Mom?” I whispered. “The fact that I have to watch him interact with them every day. I know he hates me, and that’s what hurts. He will never look at me like he looks at them because I remind him of your unfaithfulness.”

I walked away before she could say anything. The tears I saw in her eyes made my chest tighten. I hated seeing her cry, but I also hated seeing him love them more than me.

The days seemed to drag by slowly. I spent most of my time in my room reading. My mom hadn’t tried to speak to me again after I walked out. Sometimes, during dinner, I would catch Michael watching me. Whenever our eyes locked, he would quickly look away. We’d been polite with each other, but that’s as far as it went. Kate was still mad at me for wanting to go home. She called me some bad names in the group chat we had. I tried calling her, but she never answered. I even stopped by her house. According to her mother, Kate was visiting Delilah for the rest of the vacation. It was on the last day of vacation that I decided to visit Stephen instead of sitting at home. We’d barely spoken a few words. He was busy at work with some case. Whenever we would talk, he was distant. Stephen usually ended the call after only a few minutes of pleasantries.

I grabbed my new phone—my old one was recovered, but he thought it would be better to get a new one. Everyone else thought my phone broke after falling in the water. Slipping my feet into my pink flip-flops, I made my way into the hall. I hesitated and then pulled my bedroom door closed behind me. The pregnancy test and my sex toy were hidden in my closet beneath the carpet. I knew they wouldn’t find them if they searched my room, but I was still worried.

“Where are you going?”

I jumped, spinning around to face Michael. He stood in the doorway of their bedroom. I swallowed and then glanced down at my feet.

“To Kate’s,” I lied. I didn’t want him to know I’d be going to see his deputy. I shouldn’t care what he thought of our relationship, but I did.

“Will you drop your sisters off at your aunt’s house?” he asked softly.

My eyes darted up to his. It was then that I realized how tired he actually looked. He was dressed casually, which meant he wasn’t planning on going into work today.

“I already talked to her. She’ll drop them home.”

“Why don’t you drop them off?”

“Your mother isn’t feeling well. I don’t want to leave her alone,” he muttered. I pursed my lips.

“Fine.”

“You can take the car with the baby seat.”

I waited in the kitchen as he readied Sam. After half an hour, they were ready to leave. I stood aside as he placed Sam in the car seat and made sure she was strapped in.

“Alia?” I paused, glancing up at him. “I don’t hate you.”

He walked away before I could question him. His words made my eyes water, but I quickly blinked them away. I knew we had to talk. I needed to hear what my mother had to say. I just wasn’t ready yet. Emma was eerily silent beside me as I drove. I glanced at her as I slowed the car at the stop sign.

“You okay?” She nodded.

After a few tries of trying to start up a conversation, I gave up. I got a muttered goodbye from her as she climbed out of the car. My eyes followed her as she walked into the house without a backwards glance. Shaking my head, I opened the door and slid out of the car. I walked around and opened the back door. Sam was sleeping peacefully while sucking on her pacifier. I gently undid the straps then picked her up. With my free hand, I grabbed her bag. I stopped in my tracks when Marlin walked out of the house. He paused but then continued toward me. I was frozen on the spot. Marlin was my biological father. And I stood face to face with him for the first time since I found out.

“Are you staying too?”

“No,” I said angrily. “I’m just dropping them off.”

I held out the bag before he could say anything else. The moment Sam was in his arms, I got into the car and drove off. The road was blurry, which made it hard to see. This time I couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. I managed to make it to Stephen’s house without causing an accident. I was always this emotional when my period was close. No one answered the door when I rang the doorbell. I tried knocking, but still there was no reply. Sound from inside caught my attention. The pulsing beat of some song reached my ears. I hesitated for only a few seconds before opening the door. The beat of the song got louder as I entered the house. My heartbeat was starting to speed up. I should’ve just texted him instead of barging into his house. I closed the door softly behind me before stepping further inside.

He probably wouldn’t hear me when I called out. With my foot on the first step, I froze when the music suddenly stopped. The color drained from my face as the sounds from upstairs drifted down toward me.

“Oh fuck. Don’t stop, don’t stop,” a woman cried out.

Another song started, drowning out anymore sounds. I sucked in a breath and then turned to walk out. That’s when she appeared at the top of the stairs. I stared in shock at the familiar girl. She was completely naked and didn’t seem to care.

Above me stood the girl from Café Randé. The girl Stephen had kissed that day. That’s why he hadn’t been answering me. It’s why he’s been so distant. Stephen was a fucking cheater.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Stephen: Alia, answer your phone. Why aren’t you answering me? Fuck Alia. Answer me! Fuck this. If you don’t answer me in five minutes I’m coming over there.

I stared at the last message in dismay. I didn’t want him to come over. Why was he suddenly so concerned? I locked my phone and turned onto my side. My eyes fell on the teddy bear I had thrown into the corner of my room. Pain shot through me. For two weeks, he hadn’t spoken a word to me. I’d managed to avoid him and everything to do with him. School had started again, and everything was pretty much back to normal. Just like it was before Stephen appeared.

I wished the memories I had with him could fade. It hurt to think about it, about him. I’d fallen head over heels in love with him, a mistake on my part. It was my own fault. He said he didn’t want any feelings involved, but didn’t that change the moment he asked me to be his girlfriend? Why did he ask me to be his girlfriend if he knew it wouldn’t last? My body jerked in fright when my phone started vibrating next to me. I glanced at the screen. The urge to ignore the call was strong, but I knew he wouldn’t understand if I didn’t talk to him. I turned onto my back. Sucking in a deep breath, I answered.

“Why the hell are you ignoring me? Fuck, Alia, do you have any idea how worried I was? After what happened—”

“Why are you worried now?” I questioned him. “You’ve been ignoring me for the most part.”

“Alia—”

“I’m done,” I whispered. “I can’t do this anymore.” My voice cracked.

“What do you mean?” There was an edge to his voice when he finally spoke. “Done with what? Are you mad at me for not answering your calls? I’m sorry, baby. You know I’ve been busy with the case—”

“It’s not about the case or you ignoring my calls. It’s about something else. I don’t w-want to talk about it. P-please, just let it go, Stephen. It’s over b-between us.”

I ended the call before he could say anything else. Dropping my phone back onto the bed, I curled into myself and allowed the tears to wet my pillow.

***

“Exams start next week. I want you all to be prepared. Go over the pages I gave you!” Mrs. Sutton called as the bell rang.

She walked over to her desk and sank down gratefully into the padded chair. I waited until everyone had walked out of the classroom before picking up my bag and making my way toward her.

“What can I help you with, dear?” she questioned softly as she glanced up. I bit my lip and then sank down on the chair closest to her. My hands were shaking, so I clutched them tightly in my lap.

“Alia?”

“I was wondering if I could talk to you?”

“Of course, dear. You know you can. Is something bothering you? Did something happen?”

I kept my eyes on the wall. “About a month and a half ago, I found out that my father isn’t my real father. My mother had an affair.”

“She told you that herself?”

I nodded. After slight hesitation, I told her everything. I left out a few things but tried to stick as close to the truth as possible. When I was finished, she sat silently. I could feel her eyes burning into my head.

“Do you hate them for lying to you?” I shrugged. “I’m sure what they did was for a reason. Sometimes lies are made up to hide the ugly truth. You’re old enough to understand that some things led to another. There must be a reason as to why your mother had an affair. Why your father treats you the way he does. Life is short, Alia.” A gentle hand squeezed my shoulder. “Talk to them. Find out why they did what they did. Only when you know the truth will you be able to move on.”

After a muttered thanks, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the classroom. The schoolyard was mostly deserted; only the sport kids were walking around. I went over everything she said in my head as I walked toward my car. I wasn’t paying attention, and I wished I had.

“Alia.”

Stephen straightened, his peculiar eyes locking with mine. I took a step backwards, ready to run, but he was prepared. An arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me straight from the ground. My fist connected with his arm as he carried me toward my car. He placed me down and then used his body to cage me in.

“What’s going on, Alia? Have you gotten new messages? Has that man been following you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“You won’t answer my calls or texts. You just broke things off, and I want to know why.”

I swallowed and then finally found the courage to look up at him. My eyes instantly dropped to the bruised skin beneath his eyes.

“Why did you end things?”

“B-because you’re a lying bastard!” I managed to get out. “A cheating, lying bastard.” A lump formed in my throat as my eyes began to fill with tears again. With my hands against his chest, I managed to push him away. My bag slipped from my shoulders and fell onto the ground.

Stephen blinked at me, and then he laughed. “A lying, cheating bastard. Alia—”

“Don’t lie!” I yelled. “I saw her. I fucking saw her in your house naked. I heard you! I heard everything.”

“Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alia!” he yelled, throwing his hand in the air.

“T-that bitch from the café. S-she was in your house. I-I heard you fucking. I saw…heard. You lying b-bastard!”

The dam broke free. A sob fell from my lips as tears started to drip down my cheeks. Shaking my head, I spun around, ready to get into my car and drive off. The door was slammed shut the moment I opened it. When I turned around, Stephen was right behind me. He placed his hands on either side of me then used his body to press me back against my car. One of his hands cupped my chin to force my eyes up to his. His eyes trailed over my face. He leaned down, causing a whimper to fall from my lips. Stephen brushed his lips softly against mine. His tongue stroked my bottom lip. Then he was kissing me. Fiercely. Possessively. He took control of my mouth, which made my body melt against his. I could taste the saltiness of my tears. I was sure that he could taste it too. One of his hands gripped mine and guided it down between our bodies. My mouth fell open when I felt the bulge in his pants.

“My dick hasn’t been near any pussy since he’s been in yours. He doesn’t think about another pussy. All he wants is you.” He bit my bottom lip. “All I want is you. I haven’t fucked anyone else since I saw you in that café.”

“I saw her.”

“No, baby.” He shook his head. “You heard Nathan and her fucking. You saw his fuck-buddy.”

“Y-your truck was there.”

“I was in the gym,” he muttered. “Why do I have the feeling you don’t want to believe me?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I whispered.

“Not on purpose, baby.” His hand trailed down to my neck. “I told you that I’ve been working on the case. We got some new leads and we need to check them out before they disappear. You have no idea how many times I had to use my hand to take care of myself. All I can think about is you. You and how amazing your fucking body felt clenched so tightly around my dick.”

Unconsciously my hand tightened around his dick. He groaned, thrusting his hips forward.

“You’re a distraction, baby,” he whispered, “the best kind.”

My cheeks heated. “You—”

“I what?” His lips twitched.

“You m-masturbate?”

“Only since I’ve met you.” He smirked. “Do you?”

“I-I haven’t.”

“Then we should change that,” he whispered against my lips.

My body melted against his as he once again captured my lips. I stroked his dick slowly, mimicking the motion of his tongue. Stephen moaned, breaking the kiss to bury his face against my neck. My stomach quivered.

“Let’s get out of here, baby.” He pulled away from me and rather stiffly bent to pick up my bag. “I’ll drive.”

The drive to his house was spent in silence. I followed Stephen down the path to his front door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. The moment I entered, his lips were smashed against mine. He moved forward, pressing me against the front door. One of his hands gripped my thigh and hooked it around his waist. I moaned, gripping his shoulders as I started to grind my hips against his. He groaned, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Today I’m going to show you just how much I missed you,” he whispered.

Stephen picked me up and carried me up the stairs toward his bedroom. He gently lowered me to the floor in front of the bed.

“Strip for me, baby,” he ordered softly.

I bit my lip. With shaky hands, I reached up to undo the tie. It fell to the floor, and the next to follow was my pullover and shirt. Stephen was watching me with half-hooded eyes. I paused as I reached for the button of my skirt.

“Why am I the only one getting naked?”

He chuckled but started to unbutton his shirt. It opened to reveal a white undershirt. Pulling the shirt from his pants, he dropped it to the floor. Stephen kicked off his boots and then pulled off his socks. Next, he undid his utility belt. He walked over to the desk and dropped it on top.

“Take off your shoes, baby.”

I pulled off my school shoes and socks then straightened to face him. His eyes trailed over me. Giving me a smile, he walked toward me. Stephen crouched and then reached for my skirt. He pushed it up to reveal my gym shorts. Without a word, he hooked his fingers in the band of shorts and my panties. Heat flooded my cheeks when he pulled them down my legs. My skirt dropped back in place when they reached my ankles. I stepped out of them and then waited for his next move. He straightened and took a few steps back. My mouth fell open when he raised my panties to his face. He pressed them against his nose and inhaled deeply.

“You smell so fucking delicious,” he groaned.

I pressed my thighs together as my stomach tightened. The way he was looking at me made me feel hot and super horny.

“Finish undressing.”

My hands shook badly. It took me a few tries before I finally managed to get my skirt loose. It instantly slipped down my legs to pool at my ankles. My sports bra followed seconds later. I stood completely naked in front of him. It made me feel slightly self-conscious even though I knew he had seen me naked before. My eyes followed the movement of his hands as they moved to his pants. He undid the button then pulled the zip down. I was focused on the piece of exposed skin. He wasn’t wearing any underwear again. His pants dropped to his ankles. He kicked them away. The fact that he was aroused by just looking at me made satisfaction fill me.

“Do you trust me?” he questioned softly. I bit my lip as I glanced up at his face. It felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. I was excited but scared at the same time. “Alia, do you trust me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Turn around, baby.” I hesitated for a second but then turned around to face the bed. I could feel him behind me, but he didn’t touch me.

“Have you used the vibrator yet?” I shook my head. “I’m going to handcuff you to the bed. Then I’m going to make you come over and over until you beg me to stop. Do you want that?”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered. I didn’t know where the “sir” part came from, but he seemed to like it.

“Get on the bed. Lie down and spread your arms up to the headboard.”

I crawled onto the bed and then rolled over onto my back. With my arms spread out and slightly above my head, I stared up at the ceiling. I could hear him moving around, but I was too scared to look. After a few minutes, the bed dipped to my right. I turned my head to stare up at him. He held two black rubber armbands about five inches broad. Picking up my right hand, he tried it around my wrist. My breathing hitched when he closed the cuff. He straddled my stomach then reached for my left hand. Stephen repeated the action before looking down at me.

“The bands are to prevent the cuffs from digging into your skin. You have soft skin, and I noticed that you bruise easily. I don’t want to put you into a position where you have to explain why you have bruises on your wrist.”

I nodded mutely. My eyes dropped to his erect dick a few feet from my face. The piercing caught the light.

“You put it back.”

“If I leave it out for too long, the hole will close.” He smirked at me. “Plus, I know how badly you want to know what it feels like having it inside you.”

“Stephen.”

“Hold still, baby.”

I tilted my head so I could watch as he attached the other end of the handcuffs to the headboard. My arms were exactly above my head, which made my breasts push upwards.

“I want you to tell me if you want me to stop. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Use your words for me, baby.”

“O-okay.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He placed a kiss against my forehead before climbing off the bed. He disappeared from sight a few minutes later. There was a pulse beating between my legs. A pulse only he managed to get beating. Stephen was gone only for a few seconds. He returned and placed a few things on the bedside table.

“These are some toys I got you. Since you haven’t used your vibrator, I figured you haven’t had some alone time?”

“My mom stays home most of the time. When she’s not there, then I have to watch my sisters. I’m too scared to play with it at night.”

He nodded and then reached out to pick something up. Stephen held it out toward me.

“This is a clitoris ring vibrator. It stimulates your clit no matter what position you’re in.” He placed it down, reaching for something else. “This is a dildo; it mimics the movement of a real dick.”

The last item was something I’d heard about. It made my body tense up as he held it toward me.

“This is a butt plug.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I won’t ever hurt you, Alia,” he said softly.

His eyes trailed over my face and then down my body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He grabbed the toys and dropped them onto the bed within easy reach. Opening the nightstand drawer, he pulled out some condoms and also dropped them on the bed. I watched him as he walked to the edge of the bed.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he ordered. “Let me see that pretty little pussy of yours.”

This man sure had a way with words. I spread my legs until I was fully exposed to his lust-filled gaze. Stephen climbed on the bed and kneeled between my legs. He gripped my thighs and spread them a little wider. My muscles clenched. I knew I was already soaked. He hadn’t even touched me yet! Stephen grabbed something from the pile of toys. He held it up for me to see before sliding it over his finger. A second later, the sound of vibrations filled the room.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” he said.

My body jerked as he pressed the ring against my clit. The vibrations made instant pleasure shoot through me.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t want you.” The ring slipped lower over my clit. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

My back arched off the bed when one of his fingers slipped into my pussy. The vibrations and the added sensation of his finger made me explode within seconds. I tried to catch my breath when he pulled away.

“I love how responsive you are,” he muttered hoarsely.

Stephen leaned forward and grabbed a pillow. “Raise your hips, baby. Good girl.”

He placed the pillow beneath my butt, which exposed me even more. Curiosity filled me when he pressed my legs together and told me to hold them against my chest. Once again he pressed the vibrator against my clit. He shifted closer, which made my butt lift even more.

“Just relax.”

Something else entered my pussy. It felt different—smaller. He moved it in and out as he moved the vibrator up and down my clit. Another orgasm flashed through me, making me cry out. My legs were quivering from pleasure and slight pain. I was just about to relax when I felt something pushing against my asshole.

“Relax, baby. I promise you that it will feel good.”

I tugged on the handcuffs as panic flashed through me. I didn’t want him to put something in my butt. Giving out a whimper, I tried to turn away from him. It only ended up in me twisting my arms in an awkward angle.

“Alia,” Stephen said softly. “Hey, relax, baby.”

He gripped my hips and then turned me onto my back again. Stephen hovered over me with one hand cupping my cheek. “I told you to tell me if you want to stop,” he said softly.

“I panicked.”

Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before I could make sense of it. I felt extremely stupid for panicking instead of just telling him how I felt.

“I thought you said you’re going to tie me up and kiss every inch of my body?” I asked before he could say anything else.

His lips pulled up into that sexy smirk. “Of course, baby.”

He leaned down. I raised my lips up to his, but he didn’t kiss them. His lips brushed my cheekbones, then my nose, and then my eyelids. He bit down on my earlobe then used his tongue to trace it. I shuddered as he repeated the action.

“Where do you want me to kiss you first?” his questioned against my ear. “Your neck?” His lips trailed down my neck to my collarbone. “Or these beautiful tits?”

I cried out, arching my back as he sharply sucked a nipple into his mouth. I couldn’t keep still. My body moved beneath his as he played with my breasts. His hands squeezed while his mouth sucked and bit down on my nipples. I was soaked. I could feel the wetness trailing between my ass and onto the bed.

“Stephen.”

“Yes, baby?” He placed open mouth kisses down my stomach.

“I need…” His tongue dipped into my bellybutton.

“Need what?”

I sucked in air when he blew against my moist slit. My muscles clenched.

“I want you to fuck me,” I breathed.

“Mm,” he hummed. “With my finger?” he asked as he traced his finger over my pussy. “Or my mouth?” He licked my slit before sucking my clit into his mouth. “Or with my cock?”

I raised my head to stare down at him. Stephen gripped his dick and shifted closer. He pushed my legs up then spread then a little wider. My head dropped back onto the pillow. Stephen was grinding his dick against my pussy. His piercing hit my clit every time he pulled back.

“What shall it be, baby?” he whispered.

“Your dick,” I cried out. “I want your dick.”

“Good choice, baby.”

I heard the crinkle of paper, and seconds later he started cursing. I managed to raise my shoulders and neck to stare at him. Stephen dropped the condom he had opened back onto the bed then reached for another. His hands were shaking. He was impatient to get the condom on, and that’s why it ripped the moment he slid it over the head of his penis.

“Let me do it,” I whispered, making him pause.

He eyes caught mine. “Baby, if I let you touch me right now, I’ll explode before I’m inside you. I definitely don’t want to come yet. I want to watch you and feel you come.” Stephen reached for the third condom. He managed to get it on without ripping it. Giving me a bright smile, he gripped my leg with one hand and his dick with the other. I moaned as he pushed the mushroom tip inside.

“I’m going to show you just how much I missed you, Alia.”

***

“Stephen?”

“Mm?” His lips brushed the back of my neck.

We were lying on the bed with my back to his front. His arms were wrapped tightly around me and his face buried against the back of my neck. Our heartbeats had slowed to normal hours ago. But my body still hummed in satisfaction.

“What would you have done if the test was positive?”

His whole body tensed. Seconds later, he pulled away from me. I sat up and watched him as he started dressing.

“Stephen?”

“What does it matter, Alia?” he yelled. “It wasn’t positive.”

“I just want to know what would have happened if I got pregnant.”

He paused and then glanced up at me. “We would’ve dealt with it.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Jesus, Alia, why are we talking about this? We were having a great time. You had to go and ruin it!”

I swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill over. Moving to the edge of the bed, I slowly stood on shaky legs.

“I’m sorry.” I looked up at him. “I just wanted to know if you’d be there to support me if I did get knocked up.”

“I told you we would’ve dealt with it.”

There’s that word again. “I want to know what you mean by that.”

“I would’ve paid for the abortion.”

I stumbled back as if he had slapped me. Pain flashed through me when his words fully penetrated my brain. An abortion. He would pay to get our baby killed.

“Don’t look at me like that, Alia.”

Shaking my head, I picked up my clothes. I couldn’t find my panties, and I didn’t want to stay here any longer just to look for them.

“Where are you going?” he called out as I walked out of his bedroom. I had just reached the stairs when his hand closed around my arm. He turned me around to face him.

“I’m going home, Stephen.”

“You can’t drive in this state.”

I laughed, but there was no humour in it. “What do you care?”

I ripped my arm from his hand and made my way down the stairs. Stephen was right behind me. He slammed the door shut as soon as I opened it.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem is you! My problem is the fact that you would expect me to have an abortion—”

“You have school and your whole life ahead of you! Would you give that all up just for a fucking baby?”

“Yes!” I screamed, hitting his chest with my fists. “I would have given it all up for a baby. For our baby! I would never kill it even if it was still just a bunch of cells.”

“Alia—”

“No!” I pushed him away from me. “I can’t believe you said that. It would’ve been my choice whether I wanted to have an abortion or not.”

“It was my choice too!”

“Yes,” I whispered. I suddenly felt drained. “You would’ve paid for an abortion and pretended like nothing happened.”

“It wasn’t just my fault, Alia! You should’ve told me I wasn’t wearing a condom.”

“My fault,” I repeated. “Someone tried to kidnap me. I was drugged, and I was scared. I wanted comfort, Stephen. I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking about fucking protection. All I was thinking about was what could’ve happened if he had taken me. You should’ve known that, Stephen. It’s not just my responsibility to use birth control.”

I managed to drive home without crying. The conversation we just had was blocked from my mind. I wasn’t ready to remember it.

Parking the car in the driveway, I grabbed my bag then climbed out of my car. The front door was unlocked. It didn’t register until I’d already stepped into the house. I frowned. The house was completely silent. This wasn’t normal. Placing my bag softly on the floor, I made my way toward the living room.

It was empty, as was the kitchen and laundry room. I paused in the doorway of my parents’ room. I could hear the sound of faint voices coming from inside. It was hard to tell what they were saying, but it was clear they were fighting.

My life was starting to fall apart, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“I’m ready for you to tell me,” I said softly.

My eyes were focused on my mother sitting on the bed. She had already taken a bath and was ready for bed.

“Come in, honey.” Her voice cracked slightly.

I hesitated for only a second before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. With my legs crossed, I faced her and waited expectantly.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

If I didn’t do this now, then I would chicken out. For days, I’d been trying to find the right time to talk to my mom, but I hadn’t until now. Stress from the exams and choices I needed to make about universities was eating away at me. Three weeks ago, I walked away from Stephen and we hadn’t been in contact since then. The nightmares had returned with a vengeance. Most of my nights were spent with me staring up at the ceiling. Every moment I had with Stephen would repeat in my mind. Every word spoken until that day.

“Marlin and I were very good friends. He was the one who introduced me to his brother, Michael. I like him. He was the opposite of Marlin. After a few months, Michael asked me out. We’ve been together since then.” She glanced down at her hands for a few minutes before looking up at me. “We were happy. We got married and we had kids, but it started to go downhill. Michael was one of three officers that were chosen for an undercover mission. I knew very little about it, but I knew that it was going to be dangerous.”

“Go on,” I urged when she fell silent.

“He left a week later. I had to cope with Tyler and Brad on my own. Back then I had a job, so it wasn’t easy. I was so tired, and then I got news of the bombing. Two officers showed up at my work and told me that Michael might be dead.” She sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes filled with tears. “I was devastated, Alia. It got harder to get back to my normal routine. I lost my job, and it made me more stressed. More information came about the bombing. They said two bodies were found and that one of them might be him. Marlin was there. He was supportive and thoughtful.” Letting out a slight laugh, she finally glanced up at me. The tears in her eyes had dried. “It was just a kiss. One kiss and it should’ve stopped there, but it didn’t. We both agreed that we would never talk about it again. We were both married. It was a mistake.”

“Does he know?”

“By the time I found out about the pregnancy, Michael was back. Everything had turned to normal. I lied and told him that I was pregnant with his child.”

“So how did he find out?”

“Michael figured out that the dates didn’t add up. He confronted me, and I told him the truth.”

“Do you still have feelings for Marlin?”

“I’ve never had feelings for him, honey,” she whispered. “It was a one-time thing. It hasn’t been repeated.”

“Does he know that I’m his d-daughter?”

“No.” My mom leaned back against the pillows. “He doesn’t know, but if you want me to tell him, I will. Back then, his first wife was a barren woman. If they had found out then, he would’ve taken me to court. There was already so much going on between Michael and me, so I kept silent.”

I stared at her silently. With some hesitation, I crawled towards her. I surprised us both when I suddenly burst out into tears.

“Oh, Alia.”

I clung to her as I began to sob. With my face buried against her neck, I took in her scent. She smelled the same. It was the same floral scent she always used, but there was something different about it. My arms were wrapped around her waist. She was rubbing my back soothingly as she whispered in my ear. I’d missed this. I’d missed her hugs and her laughter and her kisses. I missed the closeness of her. Eventually our peace was disturbed by the bedroom door being pushed open. I sat up and moved away as I wiped my cheeks. Once I felt composed, I looked up. Michael stood hesitantly in the doorway. He cleared his throat before stepping into the room and closing the door softly behind him.

“I’m happy to see you ladies have finally made peace,” he said softly. “I was making plans to lock you in a room together so you could talk.”

“Well, you can cancel those plans,” Mom said with a laugh. “We talked. And we’re okay now. Right, honey?”

I nodded. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat once again. My eyes locked with his, but he looked emotionless. Would he ever be able to look at me with love and not hate?

“We need to talk to you,” he said. “Your mother and I will be leaving this weekend. We’ll be gone for two days.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have a function I have to attend.” Michael took a seat on the other side of the bed. He glanced at my mother then back at me. “We were thinking of having you stay with your aunt for the weekend.”

I shook my head even before he had finished speaking. “No. I don’t want to stay with them.”

“Well, you don’t have a choice.”

“Michael.” They shared a look that spoke volumes. Letting out a small sigh, my mother took my hand. “You can’t say with Tyler and they can’t come here.” Her hand gripped mine. “With the complications in her pregnancy, she’s been put on bed rest.”

“Pregnancy?” I whispered, surprised.

My mom gave me a small smile. “They found out only a few days ago. She didn’t know until she started feeling sick. The doctor said she’s about four months along already.”

“Wow.” I hadn’t been paying much attention to anything or anyone after I returned from the vacation. My mind was focused on the exams and Stephen. A wave of guilt flashed through me.

“Patrick won’t leave her alone. The only option is your aunt and Marlin.”

“I can stay here. I’ve been home alone many times before.”

“Yes, but not for a whole weekend, honey,” Mom said. She reached out and gently stroked my cheek. “With the number rising on young girls disappearing, I just don’t want to take that risk.”

Ice washed through my veins. The memories of that day at the mall made me shudder. I could feel my hands starting to sweat. My heart was beating in my ears. I feared they would be able to hear it too.

“Why don’t you go and get some sleep? You look tired.” I leaned into her touch. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night.”

Walking out of the room, I made my way toward the kitchen. The house was silent and almost completely dark. I stared at the contents in the fridge. Nothing seemed appetizing enough. Instead, I grabbed a bottle of ice water before making my way back to my bedroom. Before climbing into bed, I picked up the teddy bear and placed it on my bed. I changed into one of his shirts that I had borrowed from him. With his smell surrounding me and my arms wrapped around the teddy bear, I drifted off to sleep.

***

This was the first time in weeks that the whole family sat at the table. I forced myself to stay seated. The smell of eggs was making my stomach turn.

“So Michael and I talked last night.”

I glanced up at her. It didn’t look like she was interested in her plate of food either.

“We will agree for you to stay here, but only if one of my men stays here with you.”

“Okay,” I muttered.

Staying at home with one of his men wasn’t bad. I’d feel better knowing someone was here with me. As long as the man minded his own business.

“We trust you. I don’t want to find out you said one thing and did the other.” My mom narrowed her eyes at me.

“Don’t worry, Mom. My plans for this weekend are simple.”

“How simple?” Michael asked.

My eyes snapped to his. He was still so controlling.

“I have two more tests. Kate is coming over on Saturday so we can study together,” I said, giving him a tight smile. “Please excuse me. I have some things to do before I leave for school.”

I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the bathroom. Taking a quick shower to cool down, I dressed in my school uniform. The rest of my morning routine followed. After that, I made sure I had everything I needed for the exam before heading out. The school was half empty—like it usually was during the exams. When you took an exam, you came in on that day and left once the exam was finished. It was heaven. I sat in my car as I went over my study work. Halfway through that, my mind started trailing off. I missed Stephen. Even the littlest things reminded me of him.

A knock on my window made me jump. Slamming my book shut, I glanced up to find a girl standing beside the door.

“Hey. You’re Alia, right?” she asked as soon as I rolled down the window.

“Y-yeah,” I muttered.

She glanced around before pulling a paper from her bag. After a second of hesitation, she handed it over to me. “I found these on the bathroom wall.”

My mouth fell open as I stared down at the picture. It was taken on our vacation right after I was almost kidnapped. The picture was slightly blurry, but my naked body was clearly visible. Stephen’s face was buried against my neck and my head thrown back. It was perfectly clear we were having sex. Above the picture in black ink, there were words written.

“The Virgin Mary isn’t a virgin anymore,” I read out loud.

“There’s also this,” the girl said, holding out another paper.

“Looking for a good time? Prude Alia is the girl for you. Hit me up and I’ll give you the time of your life.”

There was a picture of me lying on the bed. I was smiling up at the person who took the photo. My body was covered in a red bikini—the same one I wore at the beach.

“That one was photo-shopped,” she said softly.

I glanced up at her. In my panic, I had completely forgotten about her standing there. “H-how do you know?”

“Look here,” she muttered, leaning down. “Whoever did this did a shitty job. You can see the parts of the picture they added.”

She pointed everything out in the photo. The closer I looked and the more she explained, the clearer the picture became. The original photo was taken with Kate and Trina. We were all posing for the photo. Someone had edited out the other two and placed my photo on a bed.

“I found these in the girls’ bathroom. I don’t know if there’s more in the others.”

“I need to go check.”

Grabbing my books, I stuffed them into my bag along with the papers. The girl still stood there when I got out of my car and locked it. I paused and stared at her.

I’d seen her once or twice, but we’d never really talked. Emily was the same height as me. She was slim with dark brown hair and pale skin. Her brown eyes watched me with curiosity. I felt cautious as she followed me. Making new friends wasn’t on my list of priorities at the moment. I wanted to take this exam and go home. That was the plan, but it got thrown out the window when these posters popped up.

“I’ll show you where I found these.”

The bathroom was crowded when we entered. Girls stood giggling and talking loudly.

“She’s such a slut!”

“How many guys do you think she slept with?”

“I can’t believe she’s wearing that! If I had her body, I would keep it covered.”

“Me too!”

“Look at that fat. Agh!”

Someone shouted something that instantly made everyone fall silent. One by one, they turned to face me. Some more giggles started as they piled out of the bathroom. I waited until I was sure the bathroom was empty and then walked towards the wall. It was covered in photos of me. Some were taken with Stephen and others were edited with other guys. These were definitely taken without us even realizing it.

“Whoever did this has some serious issues,” Emily muttered. “They must really hate you.”

I ignored her and stepped forward. With blurry eyes, I started to rip them from the wall. Emily came forward with a plastic bag she found somewhere. I paused when I saw her ripping the photos from the wall. She was helping me. Not once did she make a comment against me or insult me.

“You should tell him about this.”

“Who?”

“The guy in the photos.” Emily nodded toward a photo of Stephen and me. “He has the right to know that about this. In a small town like this, things never stay at one place. It’ll be all over town, so it’ll be better if he heard it from you instead of someone else.”

I mulled over her words as I stared at the plastic bag. A part of me knew that she was right. He had a right to know that someone was dragging his name through the mud. And I needed to be the one to tell him.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Emily gave me a small smile and then surprised me by hugging me. “Don’t let this bitch get you down,” she whispered. “Karma will get her.”

“Thank you, Emily.”

“Anytime, Alia. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll be there.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The police station was crowded. This was the first time I’d ever been in here, and I was ready to run out the door again. I clutched the plastic bag against my stomach as I walked over to the counter.

“Excuse me?” I called out to the woman.

She looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I’m here to see Officer Daniels.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Well n-no, but it’s important—”

“Make an appointment and you can see him,” she muttered as her focus dropped back to her computer.

I sucked in a breath as I tried to control my temper. The bag crinkled between my fingers. I opened my mouth, ready to make a scene, but a man appeared. He glanced at the woman and then at me.

“You here to make a complaint?” He had a faint southern accent and a deep voice. His blue eyes caught mine.

“I want to see Officer Daniels,” I told him softly.

He raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to the counter. His blond hair was messy, but he looked neat in his uniform. The man was an inch or two taller than me. He had a slim but muscled body. “May I ask what it’s about?”

“It’s personal.”

The statement made interest flash in his eyes. “Name?”

“Alia.”

His eyes snapped to mine. I frowned as he smirked at me. “Ah, your Stephen’s girl,” he said. “Stephen is busy, but if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll take you to his office.”

“Please.”

He gestured to a door on my left. I walked through it and met him on the other side. We walked down a short hall that opened into another room. It was bigger than the front of the station. Tables were placed around neatly in a specific order. Officers lingered around, some working on the computers and others laughing as they talked. I kept my eyes focused on the man’s back as he led me between the desks. The place had fallen silent the moment they became aware of me. They were staring, and I hated that. A door opened a second later. The man stood aside as he gestured to the office.

“I’ll let him know you’re here as soon as he’s done.”

“Thank you,” I muttered.

He nodded, and then he was gone. I turned and took everything in. A desk stood in the middle of the office. It was littered with papers. A computer stood on the edge close to the medium-sized window. On the left, pushed against the wall, was an old leather couch. Dropping the bag next to the desk, I hesitated before taking a seat on the leather chair beside it. The files on the desk caught my attention. I was curious. Swallowing, I leaned forward and pulled them closer. There were photos of different men and girls around my age. The deeper I dug, the more I wished I hadn’t looked. Photos of cremated bodies. Photos of girls beaten. Some were even ripped apart with body pieces missing. I closed the file and pushed it aside just as the door opened. My eyes snapped to Stephen. He stood half in the office and half out. Someone was talking to him. He glanced at me over his shoulder before looking back at the person. A few minutes later, he stepped into his office and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Alia,” he muttered.

Stephen dropped something on the desk as he walked around it. I stood on shaky legs. It had been weeks since I last saw him, but it felt like the first time all over again. My hand clutched the desk tightly as I waited for him to speak. He didn’t. Stephen stepped forward, paused, and then closed the space between us.

“You look like shit, baby,” he whispered, stroking my cheek.

I laughed. “Thank you.”

My eyes filled with tears the longer I stared up at him. He had dark circles beneath his eyes. I reached up to place my shaky hand against his cheek.

“Stephen,” I whispered, “I—”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” he cut me off. “I shouldn’t have said that about the abortion. It wasn’t right of me to do that. I’ve never had a good role model of a father growing up. Handling these kinds of situations is new to me. I fucked up, and I’m really fucking sorry, baby. Tell me what I need to do to make it up to you.”

“Kiss me.”

His lips brushed mine. I groaned. I wrapped my arm around his neck. My lips pressed against his harder. Stephen didn’t kiss me the way I wanted him to kiss me. He kept the kiss slow and gentle.

“Stephen.”

He smiled against my lips, and then he was kissing me like a starved man. His tongue sought entrance, and I gave it to him. The utility belt was digging painfully into my stomach. It didn’t allow me to feel him like I wanted to. With my hand buried in his hair, I kissed him harder. I kissed him with an urgency that felt foreign to me. An urgency that scared me.

“Slow down, baby,” he muttered as he broke the kiss.

Instead of listening, I started trailing kisses down his neck. He groaned, gripping my hips tighter. I pulled one hand from his hair and moved it between our bodies. He was growing against my hand as I stroked him through his pants.

“Fuck.” Stephen gripped my ass and lifted me onto the desk. “Alia, baby,” he whispered, gripping my wrist. “Not here. Anyone can walk in.”

“Then lock your door,” I moaned.

He chuckled. Stephen looked down at me with humour in his eyes. “I may have an office, but I’m not important enough to have a lock on the door.”

My head dropped to his shoulder. We were both breathing heavily. I spread my legs as he pulled me against him. His familiar smell filled my nostrils. For the first time in weeks, I felt myself relax.

“Tell me about yourself,” I whispered. “Tell me about yourself, and I’ll forgive you.” Stephen tensed. The moment we shared was broken. I quickly wrapped my legs around his hips before he could pull away.

“I have the right to know something about you.” I paused. “That night at the mall, I heard some things about you that I find hard to believe. Everyone is saying something different, and I don’t know what’s the truth anymore, Stephen.”

He swallowed loudly. Something flashed in his eyes. Reaching out, he wiped his thumb beneath my eye. Stephen opened his mouth but then closed it again. He seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say.

“Okay,” he said. “I will answer your questions.”

“Good.”

Fear settled when I realized that my time was running out. I had to get home before Michael saw me here. Unhooking my legs, I pushed him away. I felt sick as I bent to pick up the plastic bag. Without saying a word, I pulled out a few photos and placed them on the desk in front of him. He picked one up. Then another and another until he had looked at them all. Stephen suddenly started cursing. His eyes were focused on one particular picture.

“Where did you get these?”

“Someone placed them on the wall in one of the bathrooms at school.” He silently started stacking them on top of each other. Stephen grabbed the bag and placed them inside again.

“Has anyone touched them besides you?”

“Only Emily.” He frowned at me. “She saw them and told me about it,” I explained. He nodded as he picked up the bag.

“I’ll take care of it, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry, Stephen,” I whispered. “You got dragged into this because of me.”

With a small smile, he wrapped an arm around my waist. His lips brushed my forehead.

“I’m happy that you care about me, baby, but I’m a grown-up. I don’t give a fuck what others think of me. They can say what they want, but if they start calling you names, they better start running.” He hugged me against him. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about this. I’ll take care of it.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t. Something in me was warning that things were only getting started. This was the start of something I didn’t want any part in.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

As the days flew by, I started noticing things about my body. It was changing, and I haven’t even realized it. I was so focused on everything happening that I forgot to take care of myself. The first thing I noticed was the fact that my breasts had gotten bigger. If it wasn’t for Kate pointing it out, I wouldn’t have realized it. That night I had stared at my naked body in the floor-length mirror I had in my room. My breasts had gotten bigger and felt more sensitive. My nipples had also changed colour. As I turned to my side, my eyes dropped down the length of my body. They paused at my stomach. I’d lost some weight, I could tell. But what was most clear was the fact that my stomach wasn’t flat. Not like it used to be. I was stopped from any further examination when my mother knocked on the door.

After that night, I barely had any time to think about it. Things at school were getting worse. Not to mention that everything at the house was rushed to get Mom and Michael ready for the conference. The weekend was crawling up, and before I knew it, it was Friday. I didn’t have a test, so I stayed at home. Mom had finished packing the night before. Their bags stood next to the front door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with Marlin?” my mom asked softly.

I nodded. She was standing in my doorway looking nervous. They were going to leave in half an hour—as soon as the deputy showed up. I glanced up at her as she moved further into the room. Her mouth opened, but she got cut off when the phone started ringing. When she didn’t return after a few minutes, I decided to go search for her. I found her in the kitchen sitting at the table with the phone pressed to her ear.

“Are you serious? We—” She paused, listening to whoever was talking. “Marlin, you—” My frown deepened when she fell silent again. Minutes passed, and without another word, she ended the call. With a groan, she glanced up at me.

“Marlin cancelled. Apparently something came up at work, and he can’t look after Sam and Emma.”

“What about Aunt Genna?” I asked as I took a seat opposite her.

“She made plans that can’t be cancelled.”

“Isn’t it funny how that suddenly happened?” I muttered. “I’ll watch them.”

“I can’t expect that from you, honey,” Mom said, pushing herself up from the table.

“Mom, it’s only for a weekend. Emma will be staying with her friend anyway, so that only leaves Sam. I’ve watched her before.”

“Alia—”

“I can study at night when she’s asleep, so it won’t be problem.”

With narrowed eyes, she stared at me. I shifted slightly in the seat. It felt like she could see right through me. I fought the urge to press my hands against my stomach. She couldn’t possibly know about it. I didn’t even know myself! What if you’re pregnant? that voice in my head whispered. How will you tell her? Will you tell Stephen? What about school? Panic filled me as I thought about the way my life would change if I was pregnant. The two test boxes were still hidden in my closet. I was planning on taking them this weekend.

“Okay,” my mom said, breaking through my thoughts. “We can’t miss this conference. I’ll call Michael and inform him of the change of plans.”

I nodded. As she picked up the phone, I walked out of the kitchen. The moment I was clear of her sight, I pressed my hands against my stomach. My whole life would be put on hold if the tests were positive. I shook off the disturbing thoughts as I made my way into the living room. Grabbing the remote, I took a seat on the couch. I made myself comfortable. An hour later, I heard a car pull up in the driveway. A few seconds later, another car parked. My mom passed the living room as she walked towards the front door.

“Mrs. Dune, it’s nice to see you again,” a familiar voice spoke up.

Goosebumps rose up over my skin. My heartbeat started to speed up when I heard the voices getting louder. My mom walked in front of them with Michael behind her and Stephen behind him. His eyes caught mine briefly as they passed. The movie was pretty interesting, but I lost interest in it. I was burning with curiosity to know what they were talking about.

Twenty minutes later, my mom took a seat next to me. She placed her hand on mine as she relaxed.

“Stephen will be staying with you this weekend. I’ve already talked to Emma’s friend’s mom, and everything has been arranged. She will pick Emma up from school. I’ve packed a bag of clothes for her, so if they get here, you can just give it to her.”

Silence settled between us. For a few minutes, we were both focused on the television.

“Patrick said he’ll stop by to make sure everything is fine.”

“He doesn’t have to,” I said softly.

“It’s just to ease my mind, honey.” She smiled. “There’s some money in the cookie jar for some pizza or something when you don’t feel like cooking. We trust you to look after Sam and to behave yourself. You’re not a little girl anymore, Alia. If you do have sex, just make sure you use condoms.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. I felt embarrassed about the topic of conversation, but also a little guilty. If only she knew that it was too late. An hour later, I stood outside watching as Michael loaded the bags in the car. I hugged my mom tightly as she said goodbye. With a kiss on my cheek, she walked toward the car. I watched silently as they drove away. I was feeling uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with Stephen. Maybe it was the fact that I had his baby growing in my womb or the fact that we would be home only with my baby sister. Stephen silently led the way back into the house. When the door closed behind me, he was there. He gently pushed me back against the door with his body. Stephen smiled down at me.

“Well, hello there. Haven’t seen you for a while,” he muttered.

His smile was infectious. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pressed my face against his chest.

“I didn’t think he would let you stay here with me.”

“He may be hard on you, but he does care,” he muttered against my hair. I glanced up at him in question. “Most of the guys are out in the field or in undercover. The only ones that could have stayed here with you aren’t fit for it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“They got caught staring at half-naked photos of you, Alia. How do you think they would react staying with you?” I winced. I’d forgotten about the photos posted on Facebook a few months ago. Lately, I’d been forgetting a lot of things.

“Michael said I’ll be staying in your brother’s room.” He kissed my nose. “But I was hoping we could change that arrangement.” I giggled as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. This was a different side of him that I absolutely loved to see.

“I’m sure it could be arranged.”

He chuckled then leaned down to capture my lips. I moaned. My body instantly reacted to him. I clung to him as he gripped my thighs and hoisted me up against him. With my legs wrapped around his hips, he started walking towards my bedroom. My back hit the mattress, and that’s when sanity returned. I broke the kiss. His lips started trailing down my neck. It got harder and harder to think as he nibbled my skin.

A cry suddenly echoed around the silent house. I’d never been so grateful to hear Sam crying. I pushed at his chest until he rolled off me. Without a backward glance, I walked out of the room. I had to stay clear of him. I couldn’t allow him to seduce me. If we ended up having sex, he would definitely notice the changes in my body.

Chapter Thirty

I snuggled deeper under the covers as I turned onto my side. The weather was already starting to change. I could feel the cool air in the mornings and in the evenings. One of these days, it was going to be winter. I was about to fall asleep again when lips brushed against my forehead. My brow furrowed as they continued lower until they reach my lips. My eyes snapped open. Stephen’s face was hovering a few inches from mine.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he said softly. “Patrick is here to check up on things.”

“Damn.”

He chuckled as he straightened. Giving me a wink, he placed a cup of coffee on the nightstand. Then without a word, he walked out of my room. I stayed in bed for a few more minutes until I remembered Sam. The clock stated that it was already past eight, and Sam never slept past eight. Throwing on some clothes, I almost ran down the hall. Her room was empty. With a beating heart, I raced down the hall. My steps faltered when I reached the kitchen. The scene that greeted me was unusual—something I never thought I’d ever see. Stephen sat at the table with Sam on his lap. He was feeding her some of her porridge. I had to clutch the wall when my body swayed. He said something to her that made her smile up at him. Tears filled my eyes. He would make such a good father.

“You okay?”

My eyes snapped to Patrick. I nodded as I blinked away the tears. I even managed a smile as I walked further into the kitchen. The smell of eggs made me scrunch my nose up. It’s the one smell that I couldn’t take. It made me want to puke my guts out.

“Sam has been up since six,” Stephen said softly. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

I clutched the back of the chair in a death grip. My head was spinning.

“You should have,” I forced past my dry lips.

Stephen looked up at me. “You went to bed after midnight. You deserve to sleep in. Are you okay?”

I nodded. My breathing sped up as the temperature started to rise. Stephen was saying something, but it felt like I was underwater. The room was tilting dangerously. I clutched the chair tighter, but it didn’t help.

“Breathe, baby.”

I sucked in air. It still felt like I was going to be sick, but the room had stopped spinning. When the dizziness and the panic faded, I realized I was sitting on the chair with my head between my legs. Fingers were massaging the sides of my neck.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

The hand at the back of my neck moved to cup my cheek. I slowly looked up. Stephen was kneeling on the floor in front of me. His eyes caught mine briefly before trailing over my face.

“Alia.”

“I’m okay.” I covered his hand with mine. “I’m okay.”

“You just fainted,” Patrick stated.

He was standing close to us with Sam in his arms. His brows were furrowed and his eyes filled with concern. My eyes dropped to Sam and then back to Stephen.

“I didn’t see her in her room, and I just panicked,” I lied.

I couldn’t look at either of them.

“Get her something to eat.”

With pursed lips, Stephen got up and walked over to the stove. I leaned back in the chair. Letting out a breath, I glanced around. Patrick caught my eyes. The longer he stared, the more uncomfortable I got. He was still frowning at me, but something in his eyes told me that he knew it was a lie.

“Here,” Stephen muttered as he placed a plate in front of me. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.” I risked a glance down at the plate.

A relieved breath parted my lips when I found no eggs on the plate. There was only some bacon and two slices of toast.

“She didn’t eat much last night.” I glanced up to find Stephen watching Patrick. “She was so focused on studying that I had to force her to eat and then get some sleep.”

I nodded at him as I forced a smile onto my lips.

“That doesn’t mean you need to neglect your health. Getting A’s isn’t all that matters, Alia.”

“It does to me!”

“Why?” he questioned.

“It just is for me,” I muttered.

My eyes dropped to my plate as I started eating. He didn’t need an explanation. Neither of them did. I was doing this for me. The silence felt uncomfortable. Every time I glanced up, both of them would be watching me. I finished my plate in record time.

“Alia?” I looked at Patrick. “If something was wrong, you would tell me, right? You know I’m always here to help you, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I know. If something was wrong, then I’d tell you.”

“Good.” Patrick stood and walked over to me. He handed Sam over before kissing my cheek. “I’ll stop by again before I head home.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Stephen said before following him out of the kitchen.

Sam’s hand had closed around the necklace on my neck. She tugged on it suddenly.

“You can’t play with that, princess,” I said as I pulled her and away. “Let’s get you cleaned and then we’ll find some of your toys.”

She gurgled then made baby noises as she stared up at me. I smiled at her. Having a baby wouldn’t be so bad. I’d love him or her no matter what. Stephen stood in the doorway. I froze as our eyes locked. He was watching me with a strange expression. Swallowing, he straightened. Stephen walked past me and started clearing the plates.

I watched him for a few more seconds before walking out of the kitchen. Giving Sam a bath wasn’t an easy task. The more I tried to wash her, the more she splashed. By the time I finally finished, the floor and my clothes were soaked. I changed her into some cute clothes before grabbing her pacifier and teddy bear. I found Stephen in the living room. He glanced up as I entered but only for a second before his eyes dropped to my chest.

“Are you trying to kill me, baby?” he groaned. “You can’t walk around with a wet t-shirt and expect me to keep my hands to myself.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. Shaking the dirty thoughts away, I walked to the play area Mom created for Sam. I lowered her into the playpen then handed her the teddy bear. Her attention was instantly captured by her toys. I turned my head as I straightened. Stephen was staring at my ass with his phone forgotten. My lips twitched when he quickly glanced away. Giving Sam one last glance to make sure she was okay, I made my way toward him.

“Will you watch her for a few minutes? I’m just going to change and clean the bathroom.”

Panic filled his eyes. I saw it before he managed to compose himself. I frowned. “I don’t know a thing about looking after babies, Alia.”

“It’s not so hard. Just make sure she doesn’t choke or get hurt. I won’t be long.”

I walked away before he could do or say anything. Before heading to the bathroom, I grabbed the pregnancy test from my closet. I cleaned the bathroom and then took the test. My hands were shaking too badly to read the instructions on the pamphlet. A knock on the door made me jump. I winced as the test clattered to the floor.

“Alia?” The handle rattled. “Why is the door locked?”

Panic gripped me, which made it impossible to utter a word. I scooped the test from the floor and glanced around. My eyes fell on the cabinet. Without really thinking about it, I opened it and pushed the tests beneath a few towels.

“Alia? Open the door!”

“I-In a minute,” I yelled. “I’m on the toilet.”

“Kate is here.”

“O-okay. Thank you.”

I walked down the hall with my head held high. Secretly, I was hoping that I looked like my normal self and not like I was about to have a heart attack. By the look on Stephen’s face, I was doing a pretty good job.

“Where’s Kate?”

He glanced back down at his phone. “In your room.”

“Oh, cool.” I nodded. An awkward silence fell between us.

“I have to go pick up some things at the office,” he said as he stood. “I’ll be back before she leaves.”

“No problem.” Sam started crying. I walked over to her and picked her up. With her in my arms, I turned to face Stephen. “Can you pick up something to eat? Pizza or Chinese is fine. I’ll get the money.”

His hand caught my arm before I could walk away. I looked up at him in question. Without saying anything, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him.

“I have money. Plus I think you need something other than oily food. I’m worried about you, baby.” He stroked my cheek with his finger. “You don’t look healthy.”

“I’m fine,” I smiled up at him, “and I’ll be fine as long as you don’t make me eat rabbit food.”

Stephen chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. It doesn’t taste bad either. You just need the right ingredients.”

“Mmm,” I hummed. Giving him a small smile, I pressed my hand against his lower stomach. “Is that what you eat to stay so fit?”

I loved how he reacted to my touch, even if it was something so simple. His hand closed over mine and then moved it lower.

“Nah, baby, it’s just some special exercises that give me this body,” he said with confidence.

I groaned, dropping my forehead against his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“Only with you, baby,” he whispered. “Will you be okay? Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, Alia’s fine!” Kate suddenly appeared. “She’s just worried because she missed her period. That’s all.”

The little color that had filled my cheeks instantly drained from my face again. Stephen tensed against me. Why the hell did she say that? I pulled away from him to glare at Kate, but she had disappeared again. My eyes darted to Stephen. His face was emotionless.

“It’s just because of the stress,” I muttered. “My period has never really been regular.”

“I should get going,” he said softly.

I nodded, but he was already out the door. Seconds later, his car pulled out of the driveway. I listened until I was sure he had left before walking down the hall again.

“Did you do the test?”

I debated on lying to her but gave her a nod instead. If the test was positive, I would need my best friend’s support.

“Let’s see it. Where is it?”

“Under the towels.” I shifted Sam to my other arm as Kate pulled out the tests.

“Holy shit, Alia,” she exclaimed.

I felt dread fill me as I stepped toward her on shaky legs. Without saying anything else, she turned toward me. I took the tests from her and stared down at them.

Both of them were positive.

Chapter Thirty-One

I’m pregnant. I’m fucking pregnant. The words repeated over and over in my mind as I stared at the wall. Sam kicked her legs, which made my eyes snap down to her. It was already past ten, and I just managed to get her to sleep. We were lying on my bed with only the bedside lamps on. The big teddy bear was placed by the edge of the bed to keep her from rolling off. He needs to know, that voice whispered. I slowly sat up, keeping my eyes on my baby sister. She didn’t stir. Placing pillows next to her, I made my way out of the room. The house was dark, but I knew Stephen would be working in the kitchen.

He had returned earlier in a very foul mood. The fact that Kate was still here seemed to have pissed him off even more. After forcing Kate to keep everything silent, she left. I paused in the doorway when my gaze fell on him. He was sitting at the table with his head bent over a blue file. I was about to step forward when he spoke.

“I’m fucking getting tired of this, Nathan. How much longer do I need to pretend? It fucking makes me sick when she touches me.”

I grabbed the wall when my knees started to buckle. My eyes searched until I located his phone pressed to his ear.

“No,” he said angrily. “I don’t give a fuck about that either. I’m done. I don’t fucking care if she’s pregnant! I want nothing to do with that bastard.”

With tear-filled eyes, I quietly turned and made my way toward my room again. He felt repulsed by me? Did Kate tell him? Was that what they were talking about before she left? He was going to leave me. I pressed a hand against my stomach as I sat down on the bed.

“It’s just you and me, baby.”

***

The black van had been following me since I left school. Panic washed through me. It made it hard to concentrate on what I was doing. My grip on the steering wheel tightened when the light turned red. I was thinking about running the red light, but that would endanger my baby. I glanced down at my stomach as I slowed the car. I had already started to show. The fact that I was pregnant wasn’t a secret anymore. The light turned green.

I didn’t wait to push my foot down on the gas. I needed to keep my baby safe. My car was halfway across the stop when I heard the horn. Something slammed into the back of my car and then into the side. My body jerked forward, causing my head to slam into the steering wheel. Pain shot through me, making me moan. I reached up to touch the side of my face. When I pulled my hand away, it was covered in blood. I looked up just in time to see a familiar man walking toward me. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Everything was spinning, and then the darkness closed in on me.

The sound of water dripping somewhere slowly pulled me from unconsciousness. I blinked, but I was still surrounded by darkness. I tried to move my hand. Panic flashed through me when I realized I was tied to a chair. Rope cut into the skin of my wrist and neck. The more I struggled, the tighter the rope around my neck became.

“I’d stop that if I were you,” a gruff voice said. “Don’t want you dead just yet.”

My body froze. Footsteps echoed around me, and then seconds later it came to a stop. Something tugged on my hair. I cried out when my head was pulled back. Pain flashed through my skull. There was suddenly bright light. My eyes were tearing up because of the pain. Someone moved the light away from me and onto something else. My breath caught in my throat.

“S-Stephen,” I whispered.

He groaned. His head dropped onto his chest and then slowly rose. Red-rimmed eyes caught mine. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His chest was bare and covered in bruises and blood. A man stepped forward with a gun raised. I sucked in air and then screamed when he fired. Stephen’s body jerked.

“Stephen!”

***

Hands gripped my arms tightly. A voice was shouting my name, but I couldn’t think clearly. My head felt heavy with panic. The man laughed as he continued to shoot at Stephen. I struggled harder, but that only made the rope around my neck tighten.

“Fuck. Alia, open your eyes!”

The hands moved to my face, forcing me to stare at his body. It wasn’t lifeless anymore. He was staring straight at me. His lips moved. Everything started to shake, and then the room started to fade. Thunder sounded, making my body jerk. My eyes snapped open. A blurry image of Stephen hovering above me filled my vision. I couldn’t stop the sob from escaping. With shaking hands, I reached up and pulled him down. I buried my face against his neck. His skin was warm against mine. He was alive.

“S-Stephen.”

“I’m here, baby.”

“Don’t leave me.” I clung to him tightly.

The dream still hung heavily in my mind. I remembered every single thing clearly. Especially the blood. His blood. They killed him. Stephen shifted and then his arms wrapped around me as he sat up. He pulled me onto his lap before forcing my face away from his neck. I stared up at him. His face was pale, and his eyes were dark with worry.

“Alia—”

I leaned up and pressed my lips against his. He sat frozen against me. When he didn’t react, I pulled away and buried my face against his neck again. I cried harder. He didn’t want me.

“It was just a dream, baby,” he whispered. “You’re safe. Nobody will hurt you, I promise.”

“Sam.” I pushed away from him as my head snapped to the bed. The space was empty, which made me panic even more. Stephen’s hands on my hips prevented me from moving.

“Alia. Jesus, Alia, look at me!”

I struggled harder. His grip on my hips tightened almost painfully. Without warning, he spun us around. My back hit the mattress seconds before he came down on top of me.

“Listen to me, Alia,” he said softly. “Sam is asleep in her room. I placed her in her bed when I came to check on you. You fell asleep, and I was afraid she’d fall from the bed.”

“Y-you hate babies.”

“No.” His finger stroked my cheek. “I don’t hate babies. I just don’t know a lot about them, and that makes me uncomfortable.”

I stared up at him. His face was inches from mine. My eyes dropped to his lips. I traced his bottom lip with a finger.

“Y-you didn’t kiss me back,” I whispered. My lips started to quiver when I remembered his words. “Make love to me, Stephen. Please. I need you.”

“You have me, baby,” he whispered against my lips.

His hand moved down to my neck. Fingers stroked skin as his lips brushed mine. My body was already humming beneath his. It knew the pleasure only he could bring. Warning signs started to flash inside my mind when he tugged on the hem of my shirt. If he took off my clothes, then he would notice the changes in my body. Before I could protest, Stephen had already pulled my shirt up. I hesitated only for a second before helping him. His bare chest brushed against mine. It made my sensitive nipples harden until it hurt. Stephen pulled back to look down at me. I couldn’t look away. His eyes were swimming with so many emotions. They pulled me in deeper and deeper until I didn’t care anymore.

He was here. He was mine, and that was all that mattered. Stephen lowered himself onto his elbows. His lips brushed mine briefly before moving down my throat. I clung to his shoulders as he started playing my body like a guitar. He strummed my strings like a professional. All that I could think of was him. His lips and his hands. The gentle touch of his fingers as he traced my body. His lips hesitated at my breasts. He barely brushed my nipple before moving lower. Stephen paused at the band of my shorts. His lips trailed up to my hipbones, where he placed small, open-mouthed kisses.

“You’ve lost weight,” he muttered. “It’s not good for you to miss meals. Especially now.”

He pressed a kiss below my navel, but then I got distracted when he started pulling my shorts and panties down. Stephen moved down the bed and gently pushed my legs apart. I was waiting for him to crawl up my body again, but he didn’t. Stephen laid down then guided my legs over his shoulders.

“Stephen…oh God,” I cried out.

He had used his fingers to spread my sex. The first flick of his tongue made my body jerk. He licked my clit before he sucked the bud into his mouth. I tried to press my pussy tighter against him, but he wrapped an arm around my lower stomach. Pulling away slightly, he suddenly licked my slit from top to bottom. He repeated it a few times before sucking on my clit again. I threw my head back as I clutched the sheets. My heels dug into his shoulder blades, but it didn’t seem to bother him. A moan fell from my lips when he started sucking harder. He used his tongue to flick my clit at the same time.

Within seconds, I crashed over the edge. Instead of stopping, his tongue slid lower to enter my pussy. I reached down to grip his hair as he started to tongue fuck me. His nose brushed my clit every time he moved. After two more orgasms, he finally let up. He kissed the inside of my thigh, then my pubic bone, all the way up until he covered my body. Stephen captured my lips again. I could taste myself on his tongue, and instead of it disgusting me, it only turned me on more.

His tongue slipped past my lips at the same time the head of his dick pushed against my entrance. I wrapped my legs around his hips. Stephen shifted his hips slightly, and then he slowly entered me. Pulling my lips from his, I moaned loudly. He nudged my head aside to gain access to my neck. My legs moved higher up his hips until my feet were locked over his wonderful buttocks. I gripped his arms but then moved my hands to his back.

“F-faster.”

“Slow.”

“Stephen,” I moaned.

“Alia.”

My lips twitched but the smile died down when he suddenly sat up. I clung to him when he leaned back with me on his lap. His hands moved down to grip my ass.

“Ride me.”

It was all he said before capturing my lips again. I unhooked my legs from his waist and placed them over his. The moment my knees hit the bed, I started lifting and lowering myself. Stephen broke the kiss to stare down at me. His eyes were dark with desire and something else that made my heart swell. He wrapped both his arms around me to crush me against him. Our eyes stayed locked as the passion between us started to rise. My stomach tightened. I moved faster until I cried out, letting my head drop back. Stephen continued to move until his body shuddered against mine. My name fell from his lips as he followed me over the edge. Stephen gently lowered me back onto the bed. His lips brushed my forehead as he slowly pulled out of my body. I expected him to leave. He was only here because of the nightmare I had.

“I’m just going to switch off the lights,” he muttered.

I nodded. He hesitated as he stared at my face. Giving me another kiss on my forehead, he stood and walked out of the room. I stared up at the ceiling as I listened to him walking around the house. After a few minutes when he still hadn’t returned, I turned onto my side. I reached for the teddy bear and hugged it tightly. Just as I was about to drift off I felt the bed dip behind me. The room turned dark as he switched off the lamp. Stephen wrapped his arm around my waist to pull me closer against him. His fingers softly stroked the skin of my stomach. It felt comforting. My body relaxed against his.

“I love you, Alia.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

I tugged on the green tie around my neck once more. It felt like I was being suffocated. The heat in the small classroom wasn’t helping. I could feel the sweat trailing down my back and between my breasts. My stomach grumbled—a reminder that I skipped breakfast. My grip on the pen tightened until my knuckles turned white. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, and that just made the sick feeling worse. The pen slipped from my sweaty fingers. I swallowed. It took a lot of energy just to raise my hand. One of the unfamiliar teachers approached me.

“I don’t feel so good. Can I please get some fresh air?”

“I will take her.”

A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me onto unsteady legs. Everything was spinning. With an arm wrapped around my waist, I was led between the tables and out. The slight breeze cooled my skin slightly, but it didn’t bring any relief. I was barely aware of what was happening around me. When the dizziness began to fade, I realized I was lying on a narrow bed. Something cool was placed against my forehead and my neck. I blinked up at the white ceiling then risked a glance around the room. It was familiar. I was in the sick room. It smelled a whole lot better, not to mention how good it felt to be away from the heat.

“Hey.”

My eyes snapped to the door where Nathan entered. He was carrying a bottle of ice water in one hand and papers with a pen in the other. My bag hung over one of his shoulders.

“Do you feel good enough to finish your test?” he questioned. “You can finish it here, or if you feel too sick, you can make arrangements to finish it at a later date.”

“I’m feeling better,” I said softly.

“You know better than to go out on an empty stomach in this heat.” I stared up at him in surprise. “That’s what your symptoms led me to believe.”

“Symptoms?”

He nodded as he placed the water and test on the cabinet. “The headache, dizziness, your body overheating and you feeling sick. It makes you panic, which makes you feel worse.”

I just stared up at him.

“Once upon a time, I wanted to be a doctor.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Because,” our eyes locked, “my mother went to jail and my father turned into a crazy ol’ bat. I was given custody of my brother and sister.”

“Y-you have a sister?”

“Had,” he muttered. “She was killed after being tortured and raped numerous times. Then her body was dumped by our front door with a little note.”

I sucked in air. His words shocked me into silence. Was that why Stephen became a cop? I needed answers, and now was the perfect time to ask him.

“W-what was written on the note?”

He turned to me. Hazel eyes had suddenly turned emotionless, cold. “‘This was an example. This is what will happen to everyone you love.’ He gave us a warning, and we ignored it.” Letting out a low laugh, he turned to look at me again. “I ignored it and fell in love with the most amazing girl. We were engaged. I left her alone for only an hour, and when I got home, she was dead. She was beaten to death. Her legs and arms were broken while she was still breathing. Then they beat her until she was unrecognizable. Police thought it was me. I made the mistake of calling Stephen in my panic. He came over seconds before the police arrived. He took the blame, and that’s why he was in jail. Stephen didn’t kill anyone. He’s not that kind of man, but if you stay with him, Alia, he will become that man who will hold on to you.”

***

I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I pulled into my street. I was filled with dread. This day was going to get worse, and I knew it. I could feel it. After Nathan said that, he left me alone. Another teacher later returned to sit by me as I finished the test. My mind wasn’t on it, so I knew I was going to fail. Pressing a shaky hand against my stomach, I sucked in a breath before parking my car in the driveway. My parents had returned with smiles, but I could tell it wasn’t enjoyable. Something had happened, and they weren’t planning on telling us about it. The moment I opened the front door, I knew something was wrong. My mother was crying and begging someone. I followed the sound down the hall and straight to my room. Michael was throwing my stuff off the shelves. I winced as my eyes fell on the broken laptop.

“Alia.” My eyes snapped to my mother. “No!”

I didn’t see him coming. Michael gripped my arm and pulled me down the hall towards the living room. I was thrown onto the nearest couch, where he hovered over me. He looked the same when he saw the photos of me.

“We fucking expected you to behave yourself. We trusted you to do that, but instead you whore around!” he yelled. “Sam was your responsibility. You were supposed to look after her!”

“Michael—”

“Stay fucking out of it! You’ve been too lenient with her. I fucking came home to find an envelope with pictures of you! Pictures of you and a fucking stranger fucking in my house!” He turned to grab something. “Then I fucking find these!”

I raised my arms to cover my face when he threw something at me. It hit my arm before dropping to the ground. Numbness spread through me as I stared down at the test. They knew. Michael paced up and down in front of me while my mother begged him. I only watched them silently. Minutes passed before he turned back to me again.

“If you want to be part of this family, you get rid of it.” All the air left my lungs the moment he finished speaking. He wanted me to kill my baby. Stephen’s baby.

“N-no,” I breathed.

“Then get out!” he yelled, pointing to the door.

It took all of my strength just to get up and walk to the door. I ignored my mother calling my name. She didn’t even try to stop me when I got into the car or when I drove away. I drove under the speed limit until I reached the edge of town. It took another half an hour before reaching the hill overlooking it. The moment I sank down onto the ground, I started to cry.

I wrapped my arms around my body and allowed all the pain to seep out. The sky was covered in pink and orange as the sun started to set. I wrapped my arms tighter around my body when I heard the sound of an approaching car. Seconds later, two doors opened and then slammed shut again.

“How long are you planning on staying here?” Patrick asked as he took a seat next to me.

I shrugged, not even sparing him a glance. He stayed silent for a while before turning toward me. I was forced to look up at him.

“We’re worried about you.”

“Who’s we?” I whispered.

“Your mom, your sisters. Me and Marlin.” He paused. “And Stephen.”

I let out a humourless laugh as I shook my head at him. “She doesn’t care. If she cared, then she would’ve stopped me. She wouldn’t have allowed him to give me that ultimatum.”

“And what about Stephen?”

I turned to look back at the darkening sky. “He’s going to hate me.”

“Why would he hate you?” Patrick wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“He said he doesn’t want children. If he finds out, he’ll be so mad at me. He’ll throw me away.”

I began sobbing again. Patrick pulled me closer against his chest. He sat silently as I cried. His hands rubbed my back as he whispered soothing words against my forehead. By the time my tears had dried up, I had a headache. My eyes felt puffy. I was tired, but I knew I was safe with Patrick. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

“She’s exhausted.”

“After everything that has happened, it’s understandable.”

I frowned. That voice sounded familiar. It sounded like Stephen. Stephen was here? My eyes snapped open. I blinked rapidly to clear the sleep before pushing myself out of Patrick’s arms. Stephen was leaning against my car. He looked pale and tired. I stumbled to my feet. The urge to run to him was strong, but I was glued to the ground. His eyes trailed over me and then lingered on my stomach. He already knew.

“I called Stephen when you didn’t show up at our house. I knew you wouldn’t go to Marlin’s house,” Patrick explained. “After searching the town, he suggested we come here.”

“S-Stephen—”

“You two can talk at home,” Patrick cut me off. “The wind is starting to pick up. In your condition, it’s best you get out of it.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and led me toward my car. Patrick opened the passenger door. With a kiss against my forehead and a promise to call me later, he helped me into the car. The door slammed shut, leaving me in silence. I watched them through the window as they spoke. Stephen handed something over to my brother-in-law. After a few more words, Stephen made his way over to Patrick’s car.

My heart sank as I watched him open the door. I squeezed my eyes shut. He was mad at me like I knew he would be. The car door opened a few minutes later and then slammed shut again. I jumped when his hand was placed on my thigh. Stephen sat next to me, holding out a brown paper bag. The smell of something sweet made my stomach grumble.

“Nathan mentioned something about you not eating breakfast,” Stephen said softly. “I wasn’t sure if you had a chance to eat at home before…shit happened.”

I still couldn’t move. He was here. I thought he was going to let Patrick take me. A whimper fell from my lips as I threw myself at him. The bag dropped to the floor as he caught me.

“Shh, stop crying, Alia.”

“S-Stephen.”

His hands were shaking slightly as he cupped my cheeks. He forced my eyes up to his. After searching my face, he finally pulled me onto his lap. Strong arms wrapped around my shaking body to press me against him.

“Calm down, baby. It’s not good for either of you.” His lips brushed my forehead. “I’m going to take you home and then run you a bath. When you feel a little better, we will have a talk.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“When did you find out?” Stephen asked softly.

My body tensed against his. Stephen hadn’t said a word on the drive home or when we got home. He had silently led me up the stairs and into his room. Stephen left me in his bedroom while he ran a bath. He had surprised me by getting in along with me. That’s where we were now, sitting in the bathtub. He was using the sponge to drop water on my upper body.

“That day Kate showed up,” I whispered. “When I was in the bathroom, I took them.”

“Are they accurate?”

“Yes. I got the best on the market.”

We fell silent again. I wasn’t sure how to act around him. He wasn’t yelling at me or throwing me out of his house. Stephen was sitting with me in the bathtub. He was holding me.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you, baby?” His arms wrapped around my waist. “As far as I’m aware, it takes two to tango. Besides, it was my responsibility to take care of you.”

“We always used protection,” I muttered with heated cheeks.

“I’m aware.” He paused. “I would’ve noticed if the condom broke when I took it off.”

“Do you expect me to get an abortion?” I questioned. “I—”

“No,” he cut me off. “I don’t expect that from you, nor would I ever ask you to get one. I’ll understand if you want to.”

My hands moved to my stomach. I stared down at my still-flat stomach. Just imagining our baby growing inside me made my heart swell with love. I blinked when Stephen covered my hands with his. He pressed a kiss against my shoulder.

“I won’t allow you to do this alone. I’ve seen firsthand what raising a baby alone can do to a woman when my mother tried to raise me herself.”

“What do you mean? You said your mother died in childbirth.”

His body tensed against mine. I was waiting for him to push me away and clamp shut. Stephen pressed another kiss against my shoulder.

“I lied,” he said softly.

I turned to glance at him over my shoulder. His eyes were closed, but he opened them as if he could feel me looking at him.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you to know that I grew up in the slums. My life was shit, and I knew that if I told you then you would want to know more. I wasn’t ready to tell you about me.” He smiled and then reached up to stroke my cheek. “We barely knew each other.”

“We still don’t, Stephen,” I reminded him. “You know more about me than I know about you.”

“Mmm,” he hummed.

I narrowed my eyes at him when his hand trailed up my stomach to cup my breast.

“I know every inch of you.”

My body instantly reacted to his touch. A moan slipped past my lips when he started massaging my sensitive breasts. He nibbled the skin of my neck and shoulder.

“Stephen,” I whined. “You’re only doing this to change the subject.”

“Is it working?” he questioned softly.

The words died down when his hand slipped between my legs. One finger instantly started stroking my clit. I moaned as I spread my legs a little wider. It didn’t take long for me to orgasm. Stephen gripped my hips and raised me slightly. My head fell back against his shoulder when he slowly sank into me. When my ass settled on top of his thighs, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest.

“I fucking love feeling your pussy clenching around my dick,” he groaned. “I love feeling every inch of you.”

I opened my mouth but slammed it shut before the words escaped. Telling him that I loved him now wouldn’t be the best thing to do. He had agreed to help me raise the baby. Stephen hadn’t made any promises.

“I can’t wait to watch my baby grow inside you,” he said hoarsely.

His hands on my hips started to lift me up and down his dick. Every time he lowered me, he would thrust up. I gripped the sides of the bathtub. Moans fell from my lips as I lost myself in pleasure. A loud alarm suddenly filled the house. Stephen reacted instantly. He pushed me away from him as he climbed out of the bathtub.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

The door slammed closed behind him. Shock washed through me as I sat there. After a few seconds, reality settled in. I climbed out of the bath and rushed to the door. Ripping it open, I pulled on the first piece of clothing I found. The alarm was still blaring loudly. My hands shook badly as I opened the bedroom door. Deadly silence suddenly filled the house. With cautious steps, I crept down the stairs. I tried to keep my breathing as even as possible. It was hard to do with the panic filling me. A sound to my left made my eyes snap toward it. My mouth fell open. Stephen stood at the sliding doors with his gun in one hand. He was aiming at something. I jerked when he suddenly fired. The sound made my ears ring. Curses fell from his lips as he spun around. His eyes fell on me. I winced. I could feel the anger radiating from him. Stephen dropped his gun on the table and then stormed toward me.

“I fucking told you to stay in the bathroom,” he growled.

“I—”

“I wish that you could just fucking listen to me.” He gripped my arms and gently shook me. “Someone was in the house, Alia. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I’m not stupid,” I muttered as I raised my hand.

The pocketknife he had given me the day we went to the music festival always stayed with me. He muttered something under his breath as he walked into the kitchen again. Grabbing the phone, he typed something before slamming it down on the counter. Stephen turned to me again.

“Go upstairs and stay there.”

“I’m not a fucking child or a dog you can order around, Stephen.”

“No. You’re far from a fucking child, but if I have to treat you like one, I will.”

I crossed my arms over my chest as I glared at him. “Do you want me to call you daddy too?”

His mouth fell open and then slammed shut again. He started muttering under his breath as he glanced around. My eyes dropped to his dick. I smiled. My words affected him more than I thought.

“Get upstairs, Alia.” He paused. “Please.”

My mouth opened but slammed shut when he narrowed his eyes at me. I swallowed. Arguing with him wouldn’t get me any answers. With one last glance at him, I walked up the stairs again. I changed into one of his clean shirts before getting onto the bed. Being inside the room meant that I had no clue what was going on. I heard when the police arrived, but that was about it. To keep my mind from creating scary scenarios, I focused on the humour. Stephen was naked. He didn’t come upstairs to pull on pants. Was he still naked?

Two hours passed, and there was still no sign of him. I was tired and slightly hungry, so I decided to go downstairs. I paused at the top of the stairs to listen. The voices coming from the kitchen sounded angry. A police officer entered the house carrying a black bag. Uncertainty filled me as I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Nobody noticed me. My knees weakened as I stared at the wall. Pictures of Stephen and me decorated it. Some were taken at the beach house, and some were taken at my house.

The perfect slut was spray painted above it along with a few other crude words. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at the photos of me naked. There was even some with guys I didn’t know.

“Alia, I told you to stay upstairs,” Stephen said.

I could hear the anger in his voice. “I’m not a whore,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. Stephen pulled me against his body. “Don’t touch anything.”

He pressed his lips against my hair before walking away. I turned to watch him. A few more officers entered the kitchen. Stephen stood by the island talking to a familiar-looking guy. I felt extremely out of place dressed in only his shirt. With the pictures behind me, it only made me feel worse. I took a step forward but froze when movement from the corner of my eyes caught my attention. I screamed then dropped to the floor as glass broke. Someone fell down next to me and pushed me under the table. I used my hands to cover my ears when they started shooting.

Glass shattered. Men yelled at each other. I could hear the bullets hitting the table above me. The man in front of me used his body to shield mine. I heard a cry before I saw the body drop down a few feet in front of me. His head was turned toward us with his eyes wide open. A small hole was located in the middle of his forehead where blood seeped onto the floor. All sounds were suddenly cut off. Silence filled the house. My heart was beating loudly in my ears. I was shaking badly. The man on the floor held my full attention.

“Alia? Are you okay?”

“We’re stuck under the table.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s unharmed but in shock.”

“We have two men down.”

Silence followed the brief conversation. The man moved in front of me. I watched as he crawled forward toward the man. He reached out and pressed a finger to his neck.

“Dawnson is down,” he called.

“Did someone call for backup?” Stephen asked.

“Yeah,” someone called out. “They’re two blocks out.”

“Movement at two o’clock.”

That was the last warning before the gunshots started again. I screamed as I dropped to the floor. It was like being stuck in a warzone. Please keep Stephen and our baby safe. My ears were ringing by the time it fell silent again. The man with me was speaking, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. He gripped my arm and pulled me onto my knees. I was pushed forward—a clear indication of what he wanted me to do. He crawled from under the table first and then pulled me out.

“Keep low but move as fast as you can.”

I sucked in a breath as I crouched. With one last glance at the man, I made a run for the island. The moment I rounded the corner, my eyes fell on Stephen. He was pressed against the cabinets, busy with his gun. The familiar man I saw earlier was next to him. He had his hands pressed against his abdomen. It did nothing to stop the bleeding.

“Alia.” My eyes snapped to Stephen. “I need you to keep pressure on the wound.”

I shook my head. I wanted to be as far away from here as I possibly could.

“Come on, baby. I need you to be brave,” he said softly.

“I-I can’t.”

“Look at me.” I looked back up at him. “I’m here with you. I can’t protect both of you if I have to keep pressure on his wound. He’s losing consciousness. Be brave for me, baby. You can do it.”

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I crawled closer to him. He took my hands with his and placed them over the man’s wound.

“You got to press down as hard as you can. No matter what, don’t move your hands.”

“O-okay.”

“It’ll be over soon, baby. I promise.”

The words they said flew over my head. All I could do was stare at the blood that quickly covered my hands. Stephen sat to the left of the man with his back to us. This could’ve been him. He was a cop, and that meant he placed himself in danger every day.

“Backup is here!”

Chapter Thirty-Four

The kitchen was a mess. Broken glass and other debris laid on the floor along with blood. My hands were still covered in dry blood. My mind was still filled with memories of the dead body. Two hours ago, backup arrived to help us. I had watched them carrying out the dead man and then the one who was injured. They said they doubted he would make it. Stephen was giving them the details about what happened while I sat on the couch. I was past being exhausted. My body had shut down, but my mind wouldn’t. I tugged the blanket tighter around my body. It was cold. I felt cold. It could’ve been me that died. Or Stephen. I would’ve lost him even before we started our life together. Our child would grow up without a father.

“Hey.”

My eyes snapped up. Stephen was crouched in front of me. He hesitated slightly before placing his hand on my knee. “I’m going to call Patrick to come pick you up.”

I shook my head. He wanted me gone, away from him. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t leave him after what just happened. What if they came back? What if they managed to kill him?

“Alia, I need you somewhere safe.”

“No,” I croaked. “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger. Especially Tyler. She’s pregnant, Stephen, and she already has her own stuff to worry about.”

He squeezed my knee as he opened his mouth to speak.

“She’s right.” I looked up at the man standing next to us. He gave me a small smile before looking back at Stephen. “We don’t know if it was an attempt on her life or yours. Putting anyone else in danger is a big risk. Besides, it’ll be best if you stay here, just in case something happens. A few of us will be staying so you have backup.”

“Fine,” Stephen said. He got up and walked away without looking at me.

“Is he really in danger?” I questioned before the man could walk away. I could see the hesitation in his eyes as he glanced down at me.

His eyes moved to Stephen. “Your man is a badass cop. He has gotten a bunch of guys arrested for drug dealing and human trafficking. With the new case about the missing girls, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted to silence him. Don’t worry about it. Stephen is a big motherfucker. He’s good at what he does.”

The fear in me rose as I watched him. He stood to the side talking with an officer before moving into the kitchen. I’d seen the photos of those girls. I pressed a hand against my mouth as I felt the bile rise. The blanket slipped from my shoulders as I struggled to my feet. I barely took a few steps before throwing up. Someone appeared at my side and started rubbing my back. Another hand moved the hair from my face. My body was shaking so badly I could barely stand on my own. The temperature had also risen, which made me feel even worse.

“S-Stephen.”

“I’m here,” he said softly against my ear. “Are you done?”

I nodded. An arm wrapped around my waist. I was swung up into his arms. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I buried my face against his chest. Stephen carried me into his bedroom. After washing the blood from my hands, he placed me in the shower. He made sure to wash every inch of my body. Stephen dressed me in one of his shirts and then carried me to the bed.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered as he stroked my cheek. “I should have made sure you were okay.”

“I’m just tired.” I placed my hand over his to keep him touching me.

He glanced at the clock before looking down at me again. “It’s late. Get some sleep, baby. I’m going to see if I can get a doctor to check you over.”

“I’m really fine, Stephen. Puking is one of the things that happen during pregnancy.”

“You get morning sickness.” He paused. “It’s not normal for you to feel this way. We can talk about this later. Get some sleep.”

“Stay.”

“I’ll be right back, baby.” He leaned down to brush his lips against my forehead.

I allowed the sleep to pull me under the moment Stephen got into bed with me. With his arm wrapped tightly around me, and the familiar scent filling me, I drifted off to sleep. It was filled with gunshots and dead bodies. Stephen was one of them. He bled out on the floor because nobody wanted to help me.

I was bent over his body, screaming for help, when the man suddenly arrived. It was the same man who had once tried to kidnap me. He laughed as he pointed the gun at me. Agonizing pain shot through my abdomen, making me scream. Darkness threatened to pull me under. It was when my eyes shot open that I realized that the pain was real. I felt dizzy and extremely hot. Throwing back the sheets, I pushed myself up on shaky arms. The moment I moved my legs, I could feel the dampness between them. Panic was the only emotion I felt as I stared down at the blood.

“S-Stephen!” I screamed. “Stephen!”

I moved to the edge of the bed and slowly stood up. The room spun. Seconds later, I found myself on the floor. I clutched my stomach as I cried out again. The last thing I saw was men running into the room before fading into darkness.

***

“Alia? They said you could hear me. I need you to wake up for me, baby. Please.”

***

“Hey baby. Everyone is here waiting for you to wake up. Your mother is really worried. She needs you to wake up. I need you to wake up so I know you’re okay. The doctors said that you’re fine. Wake up for me, baby.”

***

I felt empty. It was the first thing that registered the moment I opened my eyes. I stared up at the ceiling as I waited for the fog to clear. It was easy to figure out where I was. The constant beeping was just as irritating as the needle in my arm. A chair creaked to my left, and a second later, I felt a hand placed over mine. My eyes fell on Patrick as he leaned forward.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” he said.

I appreciated the fact that he was trying to use humour to lighten the mood. There was no humour in this situation. There was nothing to smile or laugh about at all.

“Do you remember what happened?”

I stared at him silently. Of course I remembered. The pain wouldn’t be easily forgotten nor would the blood. I had lost my baby. Our baby. My eyes moved around the room, but it was empty. Stephen wasn’t here. I knew he was here at some point since I heard him speaking to me.

“You’ve been out for almost forty-eight hours.” He paused. “The doctors had to give you a blood transfusion.”

I turned to stare up at the ceiling again as he continued to speak. I wanted to scream at him to get out so I could let the tears fall.

“I’m sorry, Alia,” he muttered.

Giving my hand a squeeze, he got up and walked out of the room. Not even a second later, the door opened and closed again. I opened my mouth, ready to scream at the person to get out. My eyes fell on Stephen hesitating at the end of the bed. He opened his mouth but then closed it again. Tears welled up in my eyes as he stepped closer. He swallowed loudly.

“Alia—”

“It’s gone,” I whispered. “Our baby is gone.”

“I know.”

Stephen hesitated and then leaned down. I moved onto my side so he could climb onto the bed with me. The moment his arms wrapped around me, I stared to sob. I pressed my face against his neck as I clutched his shirt. He had no reason to be with me anymore. We weren’t tied together. Stephen could leave me now.

Chapter Thirty-Five

I clutched Stephen’s hand tightly as the doctor checked me over. He was still young—about mid-thirties—with blond hair and pale green eyes. He wrote something down on a clipboard before turning to us. He smiled.

“Everything looks good, but I’m still worried. I’ve ordered some tests that need to be done. We’ll discuss that once I have the results.” He stepped closer to the bed.

“What caused the miscarriage?” Stephen asked.

“It’s hard to tell. A miscarriage could be caused by anything. My best guess is that your miscarriage was caused by stress. Emotional stress holds a big factor in pregnancies. As far as I could tell, you were about seven weeks pregnant.” He paused. “The embryo attached to the uterus but not as it should. If it was detected earlier, there might have been a way to save the pregnancy.”

“It would’ve been detected?”

The doctor nodded. “An ultrasound would’ve confirmed it. We would’ve made arrangements then to prevent this from happening.” The doctor gave both of us a small smile. “There won’t be any complications if you want to get pregnant again, but I suggest you wait a few months before trying again. One of the nurses will bring you some information about aftercare. I’ll see you again once I have the results of the tests.”

The room was deadly silent once he left. I slowly turned to look at Stephen. Without saying a word, he stood. Stephen started to pace back and forth in front of the bed.

“I should’ve made an appointment at the doctor the moment I realized. I was so fucking stupid.”

“Stephen?”

“I noticed the changes in your body that day we made love, Alia. I found the pregnancy tests.” He turned to face me. “I didn’t think anything about the tests, but then I saw the changes. I was waiting for you to tell me.”

I wiped the tears that fell down my cheeks. Stephen walked closer and took a seat on the edge of the bed. He took my hands and pressed a kiss against my knuckles.

“Why didn’t you tell me, baby?”

“I-I was s-so scared that y-you’d leave me.”

“Oh baby,” he whispered, pulling me against his chest. “I’m not a bastard. You should’ve just told me and we would’ve told your parents together. We would’ve worked it all out together. Instead, you kept it all to yourself. We’re in it together, baby. You and me.”

***

I was released from the hospital a few days later. Patrick and Tyler came to visit me whenever they could. I also saw my mom and Sam with Emma. Michael sometimes came with them, but he never said anything to me. I smiled and laughed with them, but inside a part of me still felt dead. The doctor had explained that I might have some complications if I did get pregnant again. It took me a while to understand that it was the reason he ordered the tests. Stephen had sat by my side through it all. He would ask questions at some points and just listen attentively at others. He came to visit me every day, but something was different. Stephen was silent most of the time, and when he talked, he was trying too hard to act okay.

A part of me knew he was hurting just as badly as I was, but he didn’t want to show that. He had his pride.

My mother had offered for me to come home. She said that she had spoken to Michael and that he had no problem with it. Going home meant that I had to put on a brave face. With Stephen, I knew that he would understand if I just started crying. Stephen picked me up from the hospital and drove me home to collect some of my things. I packed a bag of clothes and a few personal items. After having a cup of coffee with my mother, we left again. I expected the house to still be a mess, especially the kitchen, but to my surprise everything looked normal. There was no sign of the shootout that had taken place weeks ago.

“Do you need anything before I leave?”

“You’re leaving?” I asked him as I turned to face him.

He hovered in the doorway, looking ill at ease. His green gaze darted around the room before locking with mine. “There’s still some formalities I need to take care of.”

“Oh.”

I turned back around and bent down to unzip my bag on the bed. Strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Stephen pressed a kiss against my shoulder.

“I know you don’t want me to leave, but I need to do my job.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

He pulled away and took a few steps back. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” I licked my lips, “I just meant to say that there are a lot of work opportunities out there.”

“No, Alia.” He shook his head. “You can ask me a lot of things, and I’ll do them, but not this. This job is my fucking life.”

“Then what am I?” I whispered. “Is it so bad of me to want you to come home to me every night?”

Stephen silently stared at me. I could see the emotions flashing through his eyes. After a few minutes, he stepped toward the door.

“We will talk about this later.”

He was out the door before I could say anything. I walked over to the window to stare down. Stephen had his phone pressed to his ear as he walked to his car. He paused briefly and glanced up at the window. A few seconds later, he drove away. Depression hit me hard as I sank down onto the edge of the bed. Things were different between us. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

***

The doorbell suddenly rang, which made me jump. I groaned as I slipped the bookmark between the pages. The house was empty except for me. Everything had gone back to normal except the relationship between Stephen and me. Emily stood on the other side of the door with a bright smile.

“Hey, cutie over there allowed me in,” she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.

I stared past her at the police cruiser parked across the street. The man inside nodded at me. This wasn’t the first time I saw a car parked outside. Anger rose as I thought back to all the other days a car was parked outside.

“Can I come in?” I stood aside for her to enter before slamming the door shut. Emily was staring with wide eyes. “Damn, this house looks amazing.”

“Is there anything you need?” I winced at the harshness of my voice. “Sorry, I—”

She held up her hand with a smile. “Don’t apologize. I totally understand why you don’t want to see anyone. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Great,” I muttered, walking back to the couch. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know what happened?”

“Well, I suppose only your family would’ve known if it wasn’t for your friend spreading the news.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Kate’s been telling everyone that you had an abortion, but word later got out that you had a miscarriage. I can’t believe that she claims to be your best friend and then goes behind your back to spread lies.”

“What lies?”

Emily winced. “I’m just here to drop this off for you. None of your friends wanted to.”

“Emily, please tell me,” I begged.

“She’s bragging about sleeping with Stephen behind your back.”

Shock washed through me as her words penetrated my mind. My best friend was bragging about sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back. I went over all the times she came to visit me. She was happy, but she seemed different. Whenever she was over, Stephen wasn’t home. He was gone almost all the time and then returned home late at night. When I woke up in the mornings, he was already gone. Was he really sleeping with her?

“I should go. You need to read the letter. It’s from school regarding the winter classes.”

“Thanks.”

I walked her to the door before heading upstairs. Emily stood at the police cruiser talking with the cop. I watched as she handed something to him before walking away. A few minutes later, the car pulled away from the curb. I shook my head as I turned to stare at the room. Was he sleeping with Kate? Was that why he didn’t touch me?

The hours seemed to pass slowly. I couldn’t focus on the book I was reading earlier. Thoughts of Stephen and Kate tormented my mind. My eyes fell on the brown envelope on the coffee table. I sucked in air as I reread the letter. The test I had rescheduled wouldn’t count. According to them, I failed, and if I didn’t attend the winter classes, they would kick me out. I dropped the letter onto the table as my phone pinged.

What I saw wasn’t what I was expecting. I stared at the photo of Stephen. He was naked from his waist up and lying in bed with a woman at his side. Her naked body was pressed against his.

Unknown: Your past always follows you.

***

Stephen got home earlier than I expected him. The moment he walked through the door, he stormed upstairs. I hesitated only for a few seconds before following him. Stephen was busy undressing. I leaned against the doorway as I watched him strip down to his boxer briefs.

“How well do you know Kate?” His question caught me off guard.

I blinked at him when he turned around to face me. “We’ve been friends since the schools merged. About four years now,” I said softly.

He nodded as he picked up his utility belt. Stephen removed his gun before dropping the belt onto the desk. The gun was placed in the drawer in his bedside table.

“Why?” He didn’t answer me. “Why is there always a patrol car outside?”

“Because I asked them to watch the house.”

“Why?”

“What’s with all the questions, Alia?” he asked, turning to face me. “I asked them to keep a watch on the house so I know that you’re safe.”

He disappeared into the closet and came out dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Stephen walked to the desk where he started searching through the papers.

“Are you leaving again?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to meet Kate?” He froze and then slowly straightened to his full height. His green gaze locked onto mine. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Kate has been spreading stories about the two of you. Apparently you’ve been sleeping with her behind my back.”

“And you believe that?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Stephen,” I whispered. “You said you’d tell me everything I wanted to know about you, but every time I bring it up, you clam up. Not once have you touched me since I got home from the hospital. It feels like you’re avoiding me. You’re barely home for five minutes before leaving again. Is it me? Is it because I lost the baby? Do you hate me because I lost our baby?”

I stared at him through blurry eyes. He muttered something under his breath as he stepped toward me. A sob fell from my lips when he wrapped his arms around me. Lips brushed against my forehead. I allowed him to pick me up and carry me over to the bed. Stephen sat down on the edge and placed me on his lap.

“I don’t hate you nor do I blame you. I’m not mad at you for losing our baby. I’m not trying to avoid you either.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” I whispered as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“You have no idea how badly I want to be with you. This case is important for me. We’re getting closer to catching these guys.”

“Is that why you’re never home anymore?”

He nodded and then leaned down to press his lips against mine. He kept the kiss slow and gentle. “The sooner we close this case, the better I’d feel about your safety. That’s why I have someone watching the house, to make sure that you’re safe.”

“You’re not sleeping with Kate?” I gasped when he suddenly cupped my sex.

“This pussy is the only one I want,” he said softly. “You’re the only woman I want, Alia.”

“Good,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms around his neck and then pressed my lips against his.

He groaned. “I need to go, baby,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Two days later, Kate suddenly showed up at the house. I was surprised when she gave me a hug. Kate acted like she usually would. To her, nothing was wrong, and I really hated that. I wanted to scream at her, maybe even punch her. How could she act like she wasn’t spreading lies? I used to love being around her, but now all I felt was fear. This wasn’t the Kate I made friends with. She had this crazed look in her eyes whenever she locked eyes with me.

We sat in the living room making small talk until she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I watched her as she walked down the hall. My phone pinged, which made me jump. The message made my heartbeat increase. Fear washed through me as my body turned icy cold. I glanced up to make sure she was still in the bathroom before diving for her bag. Gripping the material, I quickly unzipped it before searching inside. My finger closed around her phone. It wasn’t password protected like I expected it to be. I thought the message Stephen sent me was wrong until I opened a folder that contained every single picture that was posted of us. Including those that were edited.

“Well, look what we have here.”

The phone dropped along with the bag as I spun around. Kate stood behind me with her eyes narrowed. I gave a nervous laugh as I pressed my hand against my chest.

“You scared me,” I said as I bent down to pick up the bag and phone. “Your phone started ringing.”

“Oh,” she muttered.

I handed the phone and bag over to her before moving away. My eyes fell on my phone lying on the couch. With a side glance at her, I made my way back to it.

“Would you like some tea?” Kate suddenly asked.

“Uh…sure,” I muttered with a little uncertainty.

I watched as she made her way into the kitchen. The moment she disappeared from sight, I grabbed my phone. My fingers flew over the keyboard as I replied to the earlier text.

Don’t do anything. Just act normal and don’t give anything away. I’m on my way.

I felt lightheaded. My stomach was knotted with nerves. I took a seat on the couch again. Kate’s fingerprints were found in the house and on some of the photos. She was here on that night. My best friend was the one posting pictures on the internet and spreading photos of us.

“Here you go.”

I took the cup from her with a shaky hand. With a small smile, I placed it aside. I didn’t trust her enough to drink it. A tense silence had settled around us. She was busy typing on her phone. Her cheeks were flushed red. The front door suddenly burst open. My head snapped toward it. Stephen stepped inside the house and quickly closed the door behind him. His eyes locked with mine briefly before moving to Kate.

“Hey, Stephen,” Kate said excitedly.

“Kate,” he muttered stiffly.

Our eyes locked as he took a seat next to me. With his arm wrapped around my shoulders, he pulled me against his body. His lips caught mine before moving to my ear.

“Wait five minutes and then go to the bathroom,” he whispered against my ear. Stephen answered Kate’s questions stiffly—like he usually would whenever they talked. His thumb stroked my arm all the while. I waited until I knew the five minutes had passed before making the excuse. Leaving him alone with her was something I was afraid to do, but I knew I had to. The door softly clicked shut behind me. I walked over to the faucet and opened the tap. Splashing my face with cold water, I waited a few more minutes before walking out of the bathroom. My steps faltered when part of their conversation drifted toward me.

“Have you told her about your stepmother yet?”

“What the fuck do you know about my stepmother?”

“A lot of things.” Kate laughed. “I know that you sent her to jail and that you don’t want her to get out. I know she’s the reason your father hated you. I also know that you are the reason your sister got killed.”

I pressed a hand against my mouth to silence the gasp that escaped.

“You fucking know nothing about me or my family, Kate.”

“I know enough about everything you have done. The question is does your stupid, naïve girlfriend know?”

“Kate, if you say a word to Alia about any of this, I swear to God I will make you regret it.” His voice rose with anger, which made the hair at the back of my neck rise.

I’d never heard him talk like that before. I didn’t hear her reply, which made me frown. Deciding to make my presence known, I stepped away from the wall and into sight. Tears welled up in my eyes at the sight that greeted me. My chest tightened and my heart cracked into a million pieces.

Why was he kissing her? I blinked rapidly to clear the tears. I wanted to turn around and walk away, but a few minutes later, I was thankful that I didn’t. Stephen ripped his lips from hers and harshly pushed her away from him. He rubbed his mouth as he turned away from her. As he turned, his eyes fell on me. I watched as the color drained from his face. Panic flashed through his eyes.

“Alia.”

My eyes moved to Kate. I caught the satisfied smile before she wiped it from her face. She span around then rushed over to me. Her nails dug into my skin when she gripped my arm.

“Alia,” she gasped. “It’s not what it looked like! He just grabbed me and started kissing me!”

I gripped her wrist and pulled my arm from her hand. My eyes darted between them. Stephen’s eyes were flashing with different emotions. Anger. Fear. Hate. Panic. Shaking my head, I turned to face Kate.

“I think you should leave, Kate,” I said softly.

Her mouth fell open and then slammed shut again. Surprise washed over her face before she could hide it.

Kate stepped forward with tear-filled eyes. “You believe a man you barely know over your best friend? He fucking kissed me. How can you believe him?”

“Best friend?” I questioned softly as I took a step toward her. “Do you even know the meaning of it? What best friend tells everyone that I had an abortion? What best friend goes around telling everyone that she’s sleeping with her best friend’s boyfriend?”

Her eyes widened. She stumbled back slightly. I saw the fear flashing through her eyes before it turned into anger.

“What friend does that?”

“Alia, I swear he was the one who kissed me!”

The slap echoed through the living room. My palm burned as I lowered my hand to my side. Kate stared at me with a hand pressed against her cheek. She deserved more than just a slap.

“Get out, Kate, and stay away from me and my family.” She growled then stepped forward with her hand raised. Stephen caught her wrist then stepped in front of me.

“Get out of my house, Kate. If I ever see you near Alia again—”

“You will regret it!” Kate yelled before storming out of the house.

A shaky breath fell from my lips as my shoulders sagged. But then tears filled my eyes as the feeling of complete sadness filled me.

“Alia,” Stephen said softly, drawing my attention to him.

He took a step closer and reached out to touch me. I recoiled from his touch. Slowly lifting my eyes, they locked with his.

“I think,” I swallowed, “I think you need to go wash your mouth with soap.”

He gave a stiff nod before turning around and disappearing around the corner.

***

I leaned against the counter as I watched him through the kitchen window. Stephen was chopping wood in the backyard. His chest was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his pants hung low on his hips. I was getting turned on just by watching him.

We hadn’t spoken much after Kate left. Stephen only informed me that someone had picked her up for questioning. I wouldn’t mind if she actually was sent to jail. Her parting words still left me with fear. I knew the old Kate and not the new one, so I didn’t know what to expect from her.

Shaking the depressing thoughts away, I filled a glass with lemonade before making my way outside. I paused behind him and watched as he raised the axe over his head. It slammed into the wood seconds later, making it split in half. Stephen grabbed the wood and dumped it onto the pile before turning. He paused.

“Thought you might want some lemonade,” I said as I held up the glass.

He pulled the gloves from his hands and dropped them on the grass. “Thank you,” he muttered.

I nodded as I watched him drink. A drop of sweat dropped from his hair onto his shoulder and slowly started to trail down. It got caught on one of his nipples.

“Alia?”

My eyes snapped up to his. “What?”

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “If my friends betrayed me, I would be devastated.”

“And if your brother betrayed you?”

He was silent for a few minutes before answering my question. “If Nathan ever betrayed me, then I would believe he had a reason for it.”

Stephen sat down on a wooden stump and then gripped my hands. I stepped closer. He pulled me onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Are they going to arrest her?”

“They will present the evidence to her and give her a chance to come clean. If she still lies, she will be locked up until you press charges.”

“Do I have to?”

Stephen reached up and cupped my cheek. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “It’s your choice, baby. I can’t make that decision for you.”

I nodded. Licking my lips, I leaned down to press them against his. A harmless kiss quickly led to something more. It left both of us breathless and wanting more. He gripped my hips as he stood to move under the tree. Stephen sat down and manoeuvred on his lap so I straddled him. His hands slipped beneath my shirt to stroke my back.

“What did Nathan say to you?”

“How do you know he said anything to me?”

“I know my brother,” he said softly. “He’s not happy with me at the moment, and I don’t blame him.”

“I heard what Kate said. What did she mean, Stephen?”

His eyes seemed to glaze over for a few seconds. Stephen sucked in a breath before slowly letting it out. His eyes trailed over my face before moving past me. “I stayed with my mother until I was eight. Social services deemed her unfit, so they took me away from her.” His fingers started stroking my back again.

“My mother had no family that I knew. I was put into the foster program. There were some shady people. Some were abusive, and some were good. I once stayed with a family that was very different from the others. They had adopted two other kids and were planning on a third. The woman got pregnant. That’s how I knew you were pregnant. She had the same changes to her body that you had.”

“What happened?”

“Shit happened. They decided not to adopt me since they already had a child of their own. I was sent back to the foster house. Two months later, they located my grandparents. I lived with them until they passed away. After that, I was sent back to the foster house. I was stuck there for a year before they found my father.” Stephen pulled me closer against him. “He didn’t want me.”

He suddenly fell silent. I rubbed his shoulders to try to relax him. His body had tensed as soon as he mentioned his father.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I’ve gone through abuse since I was little, but living with my father was the worst.”

“D-did he hit you?”

“No. My father hated me, but he never hit me. He made sure I understood that I was never welcome in his house. I did everything I could just to piss him off.” He smirked at me. “I loved getting into fights at school just so they could call him away from work.”

I stared at his face when he paused again. Stephen kept his face emotionless. His green eyes had turned cold.

“My father didn’t abuse me.” He looked back at me. “His wife did. My stepmother abused me.”

Tears filled my eyes when I saw the fear and pain flashing through his eyes. Reaching up, I pressed my hands against his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Stephen.”

“She threatened me, so I kept silent until Nathan saw it. He helped me expose her. She was sent to jail, and that made my father hate me even more.” Stephen licked his lips. “He not only made my life hell but also Nathan’s. My father is a very, very bad man, Alia. He’s capable of a lot of things. I learned my lesson a long time ago.”

“What lesson?” I whispered.

His eyes trailed over my face before locking with mine. “That I would never be able to fall in love.”

I frowned at him, but before I could ask any more questions, he caught my lips.

“No more questions, baby. I have a few things on my mind that would be a lot better than talking.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Our moment was interrupted by Stephen’s phone ringing. He was called in for backup. That’s all he was willing to tell me. After a quick change of clothes and a kiss to the cheek, he left. Nathan arrived minutes later with some DVDs and junk food. I joined him in the living room after raiding Stephen’s music collection. Who knew a badass cop would be a country fan? Nathan and I stayed up watching movies until after midnight. When there was still no sign of Stephen, I started to worry.

I was restless. Nathan had assured me numerous times that Stephen was fine. If something had happened, then someone would’ve already called. When the clock struck one, Nathan headed to bed. I changed the DVDs and made myself a cup of hot chocolate. My eyes started to close halfway through the movie. I laid down on the couch and pulled the blanket over me. Through the haze of sleep, I heard the front door open and close. Seconds later, the TV was switched off. I opened my eyes when I felt the blanket being pulled off. The living room was in darkness. All I could make out was the outline of the person hovering over me.

“Stephen?”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch, baby?” he questioned as he picked me up.

“I was waiting for you.” I pressed my face against his neck. “I was worried.” Stephen stayed silent as he carried me into his room. He walked straight over to the bed and then lowered me. I clung to him, not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Alia.”

“I missed you. Stay with me.”

His lips brushed my forehead. “I need to shower. I stink.”

“Noo.” I gripped his neck tighter. “You smell really good.”

Stephen chuckled. His hands gently loosened mine around his neck. I opened my eyes when he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll join you. Tomorrow we can do anything we want.”

“You’re not working?”

“No,” he muttered, stroking my cheek. “I asked for the day off so we can do something.”

“Does that something involve you and me naked in bed?” I watched as his lips pulled up into a smile.

Amusement filled his eyes. “Whatever you want, baby.”

***

I shivered as I made my way downstairs. It was just after seven, and the sky was already filled with dark grey thunderclouds. The wind was blowing strongly too. It was definitely going to rain today. I made myself a cup of coffee then slowly sipped it as I stared through the window. In the distance, lightning flashed. The faint sound of thunder filled my ears. The house was silent, which meant Nathan already left or he was still sleeping. Stephen wasn’t there when I woke up, so he must’ve been called into work again.

The front door opened as I walked toward the stairs. I froze, staring wide-eyed as Stephen entered the house. He smirked at me as he pulled the earphones from his ears.

“Morning, baby.”

I was speechless. Stephen had just returned from his jog. Just like yesterday, his upper body was bare and covered in sweat. The black shorts hung low on his hips, which gave me a glimpse of his Calvin Klein boxers and that deep V. I sucked in air as my eyes trailed back up his body.

“Stephen?”

“Mm?” He paused in front of me.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Right here?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

He smirked as he took as step closer. Big hands gripped my hips, but he didn’t pull me closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Stephen stepped back. His eyes trailed down my body and then up again. Gripping my wrist, he led me over to the couch. Stephen threw some pillows onto the floor.

“Get naked for me, baby,” he said softly.

Without hesitation, I pulled the nightdress over my head. My fingers hooked in the band of my panties. I pushed them down my legs before stepping out of them. The moment I was naked, Stephen pulled me against his body. His lips caught mine as his hands gripped my ass. I moaned into his mouth. My hands gripped his shoulders as my knees weakened. Breaking the kiss, he pulled away.

“Lie on the couch, baby.”

I wasn’t sure how we were going to have sex on the couch. He wasn’t sitting down like I thought he would. I did as he ordered then stared up at him. He took a seat on the other end of the couch.

“Spread your legs for me, Alia,” he said huskily.

My cheeks heated as I slowly spread my legs apart. Stephen lowered his upper body and then gripped my thighs. I bit my lips as he traced my slit with a single finger.

“So wet for me, baby,” he whispered.

I stared up at the ceiling as he moved again. A second later, my sex was spread apart by his fingers. My body jerked when his tongue licked me. I’d read books about guys licking and tongue fucking woman, but I never expected him to do this to me. It felt way better than him fingering me. I moaned, reaching out to grip something. Stephen sucked my clit into his mouth while flicking it with his tongue.

My mouth fell open when he pushed his thumb inside me. He slowly fingered me while he played with my clit. I reached down to bury my hand in his hair as I started grinding my hips against his mouth. One of his arms wrapped around my lower stomach to keep me still.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

My stomach tightened. Stephen entered another finger and started to fuck me faster. The moment he scraped his teeth against my clit, I cried out.

“S-stop,” I breathed as he continued to lick my clit.

He pulled back and then surprised me by grabbing my hips and turning me onto my stomach. His hands on my hips pulled my ass up in the air.

“Brace yourself, baby. I’m going to fuck you,” Stephen said hoarsely.

I pushed myself onto my hands before glancing at him over my shoulder. Stephen moved onto his knees and then placed his legs on either side of mine. He tugged me back slightly. His eyes were focused on my ass and exposed pussy.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, baby.”

His hands trailed up my thighs to my ass. Stephen squeezed my ass cheeks. I squealed when he suddenly spanked me. My mouth fell open but slammed shut again when he repeated the action.

“This is what I will do next time you don’t do what I told you to do.”

“You’re going to spank me?” I didn’t even recognize my own voice.

“Yes, and then I’ll tie you to our bed until you beg me to stop.”

He shifted over my body. His bare chest pressed against my back. One hand slid up over my ass to my hip and then over my stomach to cup my pussy. I moaned as he started fingering my clit. Another orgasm washed through me. Stephen pressed a kiss against my shoulder. His hand disappeared only to be replaced with his dick a few seconds later.

“Are you ready for me, baby?”

“Y-yes.” He continued to rub his dick against my pussy. “Stephen, please.”

He chuckled. I sucked in air when the head of his dick pressed against my entrance. My body resisted, but he was persistent. He shifted his hips slightly, and then he was entering me slowly. Stephen groaned against my ear.

“So fucking good, baby.”

He stilled when he was fully inside me. Lips brushed my shoulders then my neck before slipping lower. One hand wrapped around my waist to keep me up as he slowly started moving. He withdrew almost all the way before slamming inside again. My head dropped. I was finding it hard to stay up. The sound of our skin slapping together, and our harsh breathing along with our moans, filled the silent house. I clenched around him.

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” he questioned. “Do you like it when I spank this sexy ass?”

I moaned when he slapped my ass. My legs and arms started to quiver. I was close. So fucking close.

“Not yet, baby.” Stephen pulled out of me and then moved away. I whimpered, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder.

“Lie down on your stomach,” he ordered softly.

I lowered onto my elbows and then my stomach. Stephen gripped a pillow. He ordered me to raise my hips. The pillow slid beneath me so my lower body was slightly raised.

“Move your hands behind your back,” he said softly.

I hesitated but did as he ordered. Stephen gripped my hands and placed them on my ass.

“Spread your ass cheeks for me, baby.”

My cheeks heated. I gripped my ass and spread it for him.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he muttered.

I moaned as he slowly entered me again. His hands came down over mine when he started to move. He kept his pace slow but made sure to twist his hips. The action caused him to rub against that spot deep inside me. His chest covered my back again. One hand gripped my ponytail and tugged. The other hand moved to my throat, forcing my head back. His lips came down on mine. The fact that he was being rough only made me feel hotter. His tongue mimicked the motion of his dick inside me. I moaned.

“Not yet, baby,” he said hoarsely.

“P-please,” I cried. “Stephen.” My nails dug into my skin when he started to speed up.

“Who am I?”

“Stephen.” My hand slipped from my ass. I cried out when his hand came down hard.

“Who am I?” he asked harshly.

A whimper fell from my lips. I was trying to think of what he meant, but my mind was only filled with pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut as my muscles clenched around him.

“Call me daddy, baby,” Stephen breathed.

His lips caught mine again just as his hand came down on my ass. I pulled my lips away from his.

“Daddy,” I cried out as my orgasm hit.

His arms slipped beneath my body to grip my breasts. “Who am I?”

“Daddy,” I whispered.

His movements became jerky as his hold tightened.

“You’re daddy, Stephen.”

He groaned against my shoulder. His body shuddered against mine. Another orgasm started to build as he continued to move. Seconds later, I cried out again with Stephen following me. He drew out our orgasms by still moving. My head dropped onto my arms when he stilled. He came down on top of me but kept most of his weight off me. His lips brushed my shoulder and then my neck.

“We should go take a shower.”

“You’re going to have to carry me. My legs feel like jelly.”

He chuckled. “Did I blow you away?”

“Always.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

I smoothed my hands down my sides as I stared at myself in the mirror. The dress was a simple red wrap around that I paired with some tights and black ankle boots. I didn’t bother with makeup.

“We need to go, Alia,” Stephen called from the room.

With one last glance, I walked out of the bathroom. Stephen stood in the doorway staring down at his feet. I took the time to study him. This was the first time I’d seen him wear a suit. He looked fucking sexy. His hair was combed back neatly. I liked it more when it was messy.

“You look beautiful, baby,” Stephen said softly.

“So do you.” I smiled.

I grabbed my purse and then followed him downstairs. Muttering a bye to Nathan, we exited the house. Instead of taking the truck like I thought we would, Stephen led me to a sleek silver car. I felt extremely nervous. My mother had called earlier today to invite us to dinner. She had said that it was important and that everyone would be there. We were meeting at one of the fancy restaurants in town.

“What do you think this is about?”

He shrugged as he glanced at me. “I don’t know, baby. It could be about anything.”

I clutched my bag on my lap. My eyes were focused on the passing houses, but my mind was miles away. This had to be about that weekend they went away. It was the only reason I could think of. I turned to stare at Stephen. He ran a hand through his hair, which messed it up. His grip on the steering wheel was almost deadly. He looked just as nervous as me. Half an hour later, Stephen parked at the curb. He cut the engine but didn’t get out.

“Your aunt and uncle were also invited,” he said softly. “I know it makes you uncomfortable to be around Michael and your real father.”

“H-how?”

Stephen reached for my hand. “Remember that night you took shots?”

“Not really,” I said. “All I remember was taking the shots. After that, I remember nothing.”

He pursed his lips. Stephen said nothing for a while. His thumb stroked my knuckles.

“You got sick. A few minutes after taking the shit, you said you felt sick. I took you to bed.” He paused. “You said some things.”

“W-what things?”

He smirked. “You think I have a big dick.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. How embarrassing.

“You also told me that Michael isn’t your real father.” Stephen turned slightly to face me. “You also said that you love me.”

The color drained from my face as I stared at him. I pulled my hand from his and quickly got out of the car. Stephen grabbed my wrist before I could storm off. He pulled me back and gently pushed me against the side of the car.

He was smiling down at me. “It freaks you out this much to hear that I know your secret?”

“You said you don’t want to involve feelings.”

“Alia, you and I both know that feelings got involved the first time we met.” He reached out to stroke my cheek. “You’re not good at lying or hiding your feelings. Your eyes always give you away.”

“Stephen—”

“Promise me something, Alia.”

“W-what?”

“Promise me that there will be no secrets between us anymore. No matter what happens, there will always be truth.”

“I-I promise.” He smiled again and then leaned forward to press a kiss against my forehead.

Stephen took my hand and led me across the street towards the restaurant. It was easy to spot my parents once we entered. They sat at the back along with my sisters, my aunt and uncle, and my sister and Patrick. I gripped Stephen’s hand tightly as he led me forward. My mom spotted us first. She gave me a bright smile as she stood. I hugged her tightly. She was losing weight, and it was easy to tell when we hugged.

Drinks were ordered along with appetizers. Stephen seemed ill at ease being around them, but he joined in on the conversation. It was after our dinner when things became tense. Silence settled. Michael cleared his throat as he glanced around the table. My eyes darted to my mother when she sat forward.

“I think it’s about time we tell you what’s been happening,” she said softly. “That weekend we went away wasn’t for a convention. I went to see a specialist at a hospital that deals with cancer.”

Stephen reached out to grip my hand. I could feel my heartbeat increasing when she paused.

“A few months ago, I was diagnosed with cancer,” she sucked in a breath. “I have leukemia. There’s no treatment I can take that will cure me. I’m dying.”

***

Cool air brushed against my back when the covers were raised. The bed dipped seconds later as Stephen climbed into bed. He didn’t touch me at all. A part of me wanted to be alone, but the other part needed him to be with me. I licked my lips then turned around to face him. Stephen laid on his back staring up at the ceiling. Lightning flashed, flooding the room with light. He sighed and then turned onto his side. I could feel his eyes on me even though it was dark. Minutes passed before he spoke.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again,” I whispered. “She’s dying, Stephen.”

He said nothing as he pulled me against his chest. A sob fell from my lips as reality settled in. My mother was dying, and there was nothing we could do to save her. The tears dried, which left me with a dry mouth and burning eyes. Stephen continued to stroke my back.

“Do you want me to get you some water?”

I shook my head. I sucked in a shaky breath as I pressed myself tighter against him. Stephen pressed a kiss against my forehead and then turned onto his back. I placed a leg over his as I laid my head on his chest.

“She’s dying.”

He linked his fingers through mine. “You should spend some time with her.”

“I’m sure there are some treatments she could do. Like chemo or—”

“Baby, there is no treatment. Like she said, it has gone too far to be cured. It’s too late.”

She’s dying. My mother was dying, and there was nothing I could do. How long did she have? More tears filled my eyes and silently dropped onto his chest. Everything was silent until it started to rain. Thunder made the windows vibrate.

“Do you ever think about the future?” I whispered.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I met you,” Stephen said softly.

I could feel his heartbeat increasing against my ear. Was I part of his future? Were we together in the future?

“Stephen—”

“I dream of us,” he muttered, cutting me off. “I dream of watching you walk down the aisle toward me. I dream of watching our baby grow inside you. I dream of having lots of kids that look like you.”

“How many kids are we talking about?”

“At least five,” he said seriously.

“Five?” I raised my head to look up at him.

“You don’t want five kids?”

“That’s a big number,” I breathed. “How about we stick to one first and see how it goes?”

“We could do that.”

He reached up to cup my cheek. “We could buy a house on the beach.”

“No.” Horror washed through me. “I’d be spending my time worried sick that they would wander out and drown.”

“Okay.” He chuckled. “No beach house.”

“Do you want to have a big wedding?” I traced shapes on his skin with my finger.

“Isn’t that your decision?”

I smiled. “I’m fine with anything as long as you show up.”

Stephen laughed. His hand slid down my back to settle on my hip. He fell silent.

“Let’s elope,” he suddenly said.

My mouth fell open in shock. I gasped when he suddenly moved. Stephen hovered above me.

“I’ll take a few days off at work, and you don’t have to worry about school for another two weeks. I can get some plane tickets and we can go to Vegas. Just you and me, baby.”

“You’re serious,” I muttered, surprised.

“Yes,” he muttered.

His lips caught mine before I could say anything.

“Stephen,” I pressed my hands against his chest, “be reasonable. We can’t just run off to get married. Too much is happening right now. I don’t want you to do this and then regret it within a few months. I—”

“I won’t regret it, Alia. I’ve never been so sure about something in my life. I want to marry you and build a family with you.”

“You said you didn’t want any kids.”

He smiled at me. “The idea of having kids scares me shitless. I’ve never had a good role model, so I have no clue what a father is supposed to be like. I don’t think my grandfather counts.”

“Why not?”

“He had this thing where he would hit me over the head.” He laid down on his side with his head on his hand. “I had this tendency to ignore him when he spoke. He would always start telling these stories about what he did in his time. They were really boring. I would space out and get a slap to the head. He used to do that when I did something wrong. I know he didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“He sounds like an interesting man,” I said softly.

“He was.” He smiled. “My grandmother was head over heels in love with him. One thing she couldn’t stand about him was his smelly socks. I wish they were still here for you to meet them.” Stephen reached out to trace my cheeks. “They would’ve liked you. Especially Granny.”

“I would’ve liked to have met them too.”

Silence settled again. The sound of the rain was slowly starting to lure me to sleep. My eyes fluttered closed, but I forced them open.

“It’s getting late. We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, moving closer to him.

I was halfway asleep when he said the words that made me smile.

“I love you, baby.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I parked the car in front of the station before getting out. The wind made my hair fly around my face as I climbed the stairs. It had only gotten colder after last night’s rain. The station wasn’t as packed as it was the last time I was here to see Stephen. In fact, it was almost completely empty. I walked toward the desk and cleared my throat to catch the woman’s attention. It was the same one who wouldn’t let me see Stephen.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Chief Dune,” I said softly.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No—”

“Make an appointment then you can see him.”

I slammed my hands down on the counter and glared at her. “Listen here, bitch, I’m not in the fucking mood to be pleasant. I’ve had a shitty day. I want to see Chief Dune right fucking now!”

“You have no right to talk to me that way!” she yelled, her eyes almost bulging out of her head. “You better get some manners or I’ll lock you up for the night.”

“Fuck you,” I growled. “I want to see my fucking father right now, lady!”

She laughed. My hands fisted when she turned away from me. The woman walked over to the desk and sank down into the chair. My body started to shake the angrier I got. She was fucking ignoring me!

“Fine.” I gave her a smirk before charging the door that would lead me to the back.

It slammed shut behind me, which cut her off. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with bitchiness today. I glanced over my shoulder as the door opened and walked straight into someone else. Hands gripped my arms to steady me before pushing me away slightly. I glanced up straight into the face of Michael. He looked grim as he stared down at me.

“Sir,” the woman said behind me, “this girl claims to be your daughter.”

I bit my lip as I glanced up at him again. His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. Michael glanced over my head at the woman.

“Thank you, Ferdie.” He looked back down at me. “Come on.”

I followed him silently as he led me through the tables and toward his office. He stepped aside for me to enter first. I took a seat in the chair at his desk. Michael walked around it and took a seat behind it. He watched me silently for a few minutes.

“Your mother wants to tell Marlin the truth,” he said softly.

“I bet you’d like that.”

“Not particularly.” My eyes snapped up to his. “I assume you came here for a particular reason?”

My eyes dropped to my lap before lifting to glance around his office. Surprise filled me when I saw the photo against the wall. It was taken not so long ago at a barbecue. Emma was posing at the camera dressed in a pink princess dress. I stood next to her with Sam in my arms. My eyes slowly drifted toward him.

“I didn’t like the fact that you aren’t my blood. I still don’t. It hurt me knowing that your mother had an affair with my brother,” he said softly. “A part of me understood why it happened, but the other part felt betrayed.”

“You still see him around—almost every day.”

“Yes, and it takes everything in me not to beat the shit out of him.” Michael sighed and then stood. He surprised me by taking a seat on the chair next to me. “Marlin was always better than me. He made our parents proud and it made me jealous. Everything I did never seemed good enough. Then I met your mother and it didn’t matter anymore. It hurt me because she lied to me about it, and then later when I confronted her, she told the truth. She was going to pretend like you were mine.”

“Would it have been so bad just to pretend? I always thought you hated me. You were always so distant and mean,” I said. Tears filled my eyes.

“Some things are just hard to explain, Alia.”

“Then try!”

“Why did you come here?”

I stared at him silently as he stood and turned his back on me. I stood and took a step closer to him. “Tell me! Tell me why you hate me so much! Look at me and tell me!”

“Because you’re not my blood!” he yelled as he spun around. He pressed a finger against his chest. “You’re not my blood! You’re not my daughter. You’re a reminder that my wife had sex with my brother. You look like him! You’re a reminder that I wasn’t there when she needed me. You’re a reminder that she betrayed me in the worst way possible after promising she would never offer her body to another man. Is that what you wanted to hear, Alia? I don’t fucking hate you. I hate the fact that I failed. That I—” He broke off, sucking in a breath. “I don’t hate you.”

“It feels like you do,” I whispered. I wiped my cheeks. “Are you going to hold it against her forever? You don’t have to forget, but you can forgive.” I reached down to pick up my bag. “You might not be my biological father, but you are my father in every other way.”

I walked out of the office before more tears could fall. Eyes burned into my back as I made my way toward Stephen’s office. The door stood open. I paused in the doorway. Stephen sat behind his desk with his eyes focused on the computer. He had a pen in his hand and would write down something every few seconds. I stepped into the office after a few more seconds. He glanced up. The smile he gave me made my heart swell.

Stephen dropped the pen as he pushed his chair back. Dropping my bag on the edge of the desk, I moved toward him. He opened his arms for me, and I didn’t hesitate to sit in his lap. His arms wrapped around me to keep me in place.

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head as I wrapped my arms around his waist. Something on his belt dug painfully into my hip, but I didn’t want to move away. He shifted slightly.

“Kate has been set free.”

“Oh.” I glanced up at him. “I thought you said they would keep her locked up until she tells the truth.”

“She has an alibi, so our hands are tied.”

I sighed and then dropped my head against his shoulder. His arm around my waist tightened. Stephen started working on the computer again. One of his hands stroked the skin of my back. I relaxed against him and closed my eyes. Our conversation from last night flashed through my mind. I sat up.

“Let’s do it,” I said softly. “Let’s elope.”

Chapter Forty

I stared down at this list in my hands. Half of it was already loaded into the cart. Nathan had made the list, and Stephen had added some things. Excitement filled me. We were going to elope. I was worried about the future, I admit that, but being with him made all the doubts fade. He wanted to marry me. I grabbed a jar of peanut butter and placed it in the cart before marking it down. Stephen said he’d look into tickets before talking to Michael. Once we got home tonight we’d talk about it more.

Half an hour later, my shopping was finished. I paid for the stuff before walking out of the supermarket. It started raining while I was inside. I paused briefly as I saw a black van parked a few feet from my car. It was a reminder of the day I almost got kidnapped. With my heart beating erratically in my chest, I walked toward my car. My eyes darted around nervously, but nothing seemed out of sorts. The keys dug into my hand as I gripped them tightly. I paused halfway to my car and pulled out my phone. Stephen answered on the second ring.

“I hope you didn’t change your mind.”

“No.” My eyes darted to the van again. “I—”

“What’s wrong?”

I paused, feeling a little unsure. “There’s a van parked in the parking lot, and it just reminded me of what happened. I’m sorry I’m being stupid.”

“Alia,” Stephen said softly, “you are not stupid. I understand why you feel this way. Can you give me the license plate number?”

I repeated the number to him before walking toward my car again. I felt stupid. It was probably somebody’s family van. Most people used those to travel with the kids.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your work,” I said softly. “I should get going, and so should you. I’ll see you at home.”

“Of course you will, baby. We have some plans to make.” He sounded excited.

I hesitated but decided I had nothing to lose, so I repeated the words he said to me.

“I love you, Stephen.”

There was a pause. “I love you too, baby.”

I ended the call and then turned to my car. The phone slipped from my fingers as I stared at the man.

“It’s nice to see you again, Alia.”

I was frozen in fear. My legs wouldn’t listen to the command my brain was sending to run. The man’s eyes darted over my shoulder, but before I could do anything, I felt something prick my skin. With a hand pressed to my neck, I spun. Tears filled my eyes as my body started to turn numb. My mouth fell open, but not a sound escaped. Kate raised the needle in her hand as she smirked at me.

“I told you that you will regret it.”

***

My body was overheating. It was too warm to breathe normally. I felt sick and groggy. A moan fell from my lips as I slowly turned onto my back.

“She’s waking up,” a voice whispered nearby.

I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly as I stared at the face above mine. It was slightly dark, but I could make out her face. Another one appeared; she had dried blood against her temple. I winced as they helped me sit up. My body was stiff and bruised.

“My name is Marie,” the girl to my left said softly. “That’s Anne.” She pointed to the girl with the blood on her temple.

“Where are we?” I croaked.

“Here.” Anne held out a bottle filled with water. “Take it slow. You’ve been out for a while, and the water is warm.”

I took the open bottle from her with a shaky hand. The water tasted like shit, but it felt good trailing down my dry throat. After taking a few sips, I handed the bottle back over to her. I glanced around. Shock filled me. About twenty other girls sat around. They were all dirty and looked thin and extremely pale.

“They have been here a lot longer than we have,” Marie said softly.

“How long have we been here?”

“If I had to guess I’d say about a day, maybe two.” She paused. “You’ve been out for a long time. Even when they threw you in here, you didn’t wake up.”

“She injected me,” I whispered.

A hand moved to my neck where I had felt the needle. The skin was tender and probably bruised.

“Where are we?”

Marie and Anne sat down in front of me. I took a good look at them. Both were about the same age as me. They didn’t look as dirty or as worn out as the others did.

“I think we’re in a container. I caught a glimpse of a few more containers when they threw you in.”

“Has anyone tried to get out?”

“No,” Anne said. “They come to give us water every few hours, but that’s about it.”

“We need to do something,” I muttered. “I’m not going to just sit here.”

I stumbled to my feet. For a few seconds, my head span. I squeezed my eyes shut as I took calming breaths. Once the dizziness faded, I walked around. The container was small and hot. Sweat covered my body. I took a look at all the other girls. They were weak. Some looked like they were sleeping, but it was hard to tell if they were breathing. I winced when the smell of urine filled my nostrils. Two full buckets were pushed into the corners. No bathroom breaks. No food. No showers.

“Stephen will find me, and then we’ll all be set free,” I told them with conviction. “He will come.”

***

I gripped the wire tightly as I heard the lock from outside the container being unlocked. Every day that passed made me feel even sicker. It had been a long time since they gave us water. I was starving. Everyone was. I glanced around, but none of them looked at me. They didn’t want to fight or try to escape.

The door opened. Bright light blinded me for a few seconds. I stared at the man filling the only exit. He was big—a little overweight—with a bald head. I waited until he bent down to get something before I moved. I used all my strength to move forward and stab the wire into his exposed neck. He cried out, stumbling backwards.

“Run!”

I didn’t look back to see whether they were following or not. Getting away from them was my first priority. It they wanted to stay, then it was their choice. A shout behind me made me push myself to run even faster. I pulled to a stop when I saw the brick wall in front of me. Footsteps behind me made tears fill my eyes. I was trapped. There was nowhere to run. I spun around. Pain flashed through my jaw and cheek.

“Fucking bitch,” the man puffed. “You’re going to pay for stabbing me!”

Before I could do anything, I was thrown against the wall. I fell to the ground, gasping for air. A kick to my stomach made me roll away. I curled into a ball as the man stepped closer.

“Enough! Go get cleaned up and make sure nobody else got out.” A hand gripped my arm and pulled me up to my feet.

I stumbled, which resulted in the man jerking me toward him. His dark eyes caught mine as he sneered down at me.

“You better keep your mouth shut. I’m not in the mood for running.” He turned and started walking.

The man pulled me behind him as I stumbled. He was taking me back to the container. Two other men stood outside it. Both were dressed in neat suits. They looked like businessmen.

“What about that one?” one asked as he pointed at me.

“She’s not for sale. Boss had taken this one especially for himself.”

“She looks better than the others.” The second man stepped forward. “She has a great pair of tits. Has she been fucked before?”

“Not sure. Look, if you want her, you talk to the boss. I was told she is not for sale.”

I didn’t like the way their eyes trailed over me. They lingered on my breasts most of the time. These men were part of the human trafficking ring.

“Call him.”

The grip on my arm loosened. I watched in fear as the man walked a few feet away. He pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear. It only took a few seconds for him to return.

“She’s not for sale, but he said he’ll make a deal with you once he had his fill of her.” He glanced at me. “Pick from the other girls. We need to get moving.”

I couldn’t do anything to help. I was forced to stand there and watch as they carried Marie and two other girls away. Once they disappeared, the container was locked again.

“You’re a lucky bitch,” the man who first opened the container snarled. “If the boss didn’t have such a high liking for you, I would’ve already bent you over and—”

“Keep your mouth shut!”

I swallowed. My lower jaw and stomach ached from the punch and kick. I was sure the skin was already bruising.

“We’ll do this the easy way or the hard way.” He stepped closer. “You be a good girl and come willingly, or I’ll make you.”

I chose the easy option. The walk toward his car was short. We walked out of the empty building and into a parking lot. Woods surrounded the area. It was a place I’d never seen before. I waited until we were halfway to his car before I made a run for it.

“Hey!”

I was close to the tree line when a heavy weight slammed onto my back. A cry fell from my lips as I hit the hard ground. My head hit something hard. The last thing I saw was the dirt before everything went black.

***

I was surrounded by darkness. With a groan, I pushed myself up. The horrid smell made me gag. It smelled like death. I pressed a hand against my mouth and stomach. Where the hell was I? What did those men do to me? It was hard to stand up. Every inch of my body was hurting. The lack of food and water made me shake. I was weak. Fighting or running was out of the question.

I leaned against the damp wall as I tried to catch my breath. With my feet, I felt around on the ground. Nothing was within touching distance. There had to be a reason for the smell. I held a hand against my nose as I took small steps toward the left. My other hand was held out in front of me to make sure I didn’t walk into another wall. My foot suddenly caught on something. I went tumbling to the ground before I could catch myself. The air was knocked from my lungs. I gagged a few times as I tried to suck in air. Sitting up, I cautiously reached out.

My hand came into contact with something cold. I started crawling. A scream fell from my lips when I hit something else. I kept moving until my back hit a wall. There was a click, and then the light suddenly flicked on. Another scream fell from my lips when everything came into view. Bodies were littered around to floor. Some were just bones and hair. A few looked fresh, but others were decaying. It was the cause of the smell. My eyes fell on a familiar face.

Anne laid only a few feet from me with blood pooled around her body. Her eyes were open and staring straight at me. Tears dripped down my cheeks. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the image stayed. It was stuck in my brain. The sick feeling intensified until I started puking. I dry heaved onto the dirty floor. A loud creak filled the room. Seconds later, the wall started moving. It slowly slid open to reveal two men. They had masks covering their faces. Guns were strapped to their hips.

“Get her.”

One of them stepped forward over the bodies until he was right in front of me. He reached down and gripped my arm. I was pulled up and half dragged toward the exit. Once we stepped out of the room, something was thrown over my head. Darkness surrounded me once again. The grip on my arm only tightened when I was forced to walk with them. We took a lot of turns before walking straight.

“Careful,” a man muttered, “we’re taking the stairs now.”

My steps slowed, but I was forced to keep their pace. I almost fell when we reached the first step.

“Slow down. He doesn’t want any more bruises on her.”

Halfway up the stairs I was breathless. It was hard to catch my breath. My head was spinning. I was going to throw up again.

“Carry her. Boss is already pissed off. I don’t want him to take his anger out on us.” The hand on my arm disappeared as an arm wrapped around my waist. Seconds later, I was thrown over the man’s shoulder. I kept still as he climbed the stairs. All the blood rushing to my head wasn’t helping the dizziness.

Another door opened and then closed behind us. We walked a few more feet until I was lowered. I winced when I was slammed into a chair. The bag over my face was removed after my wrists were tied in front of me. I blinked rapidly. The smell was pleasant, a lot better than the room with dead bodies. I sat on a chair in an expensive-looking office. A dark oak desk stood a few feet in front of me. It was neat with only a few files placed on it. Beyond it was a medium-sized window covered by a thick red curtain.

“Thank you. You may leave.”

I tensed as the familiar voice filled my ears. He stood directly behind me. The door clicked closed, which left me alone with him. I was dying to turn my head to look at him, but I didn’t.

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble for me, Alia,” he said. “I never knew it would take so much just to kidnap a naïve high school kid.”

My eyes darted up when he stepped around me. A sense of déjà vu washed through me as I stared at him. Familiar green eyes watched me with interest.

“You are smart, I’ll give you that.” He took a seat on the edge of the desk. “Do you know who I am yet?”

“A low-life prick.” My head snapped to the side when he backhanded me. I swallowed as he gripped my jaw painfully.

“I enjoy a smart mouth, but only when it’s wrapped around my dick,” he muttered. “I’ll make it easier for you. You have been fucking my son.”

My eyes widened. He laughed as he stepped back. I couldn’t look away from him. He had Stephen’s eyes and his cheekbones, but that’s as far as the similarities went. He had black hair filled with greys at his temples. His skin was pale but covered in a few tattoos here and there. He wasn’t fit. The man had a beer belly and was sweating profusely.

“I have been waiting for this for a very long time. Patience isn’t something I’m good at, but I’m glad I waited.” He straightened and then stepped toward me. “That bastard made my life hell. He threw my wife in jail for nothing, and now—”

“Your wife abused him!” I yelled.

I gasped as he hit me again. My lip was burning. I used my tongue to lick the blood. A hit to my stomach made me double over in pain.

“You will learn,” he said from above me. “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll hurt you. If you don’t do what I say, I’ll hurt you. I’m going to make him suffer. He’s going to pay, starting with you.”

Chapter Forty-One

“My name is Alia Dune. I’m a fighter. My name is Alia Dune. I’m a fighter,” I repeated out loud.

Darkness surrounded me. It was cold. So cold. I wrapped my arms tighter around my legs as I rocked back and forth. My stomach grumbled. In a few hours, someone would bring water and then it’d make the hunger fade.

“My name is Alia Dune. I’m a fighter.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

I flinched, snapping my mouth closed. My back pressed painfully into the wall, but I was too afraid to move. Something hit the metal. I pressed my hands against my ears as they started screaming. They were fighting for water. Something hit the wall again. More screams followed.

And then it fell silent.

***

“You look like shit, my pet,” he muttered.

I kept my eyes on the ground. Looking at him made me want to cry. Cry because I was stuck with him. Stephen hadn’t come yet. He wasn’t going to come for me.

“I’ve been told what a good girl you’ve been.” His hand stroked my hair. “Good girls get rewards.”

His footsteps echoed around the empty room as he walked away. My body slowly relaxed when the door closed. He was leaving. No more pain and no more pretending.

“Hey.”

I glanced up at the man crouched in front of me. He held a bowl filled with something that smelled good. I looked back up at him.

“He said I can give you some food. I stole some porridge. It’ll build up some of your strength.”

“H-how long?”

He pursed his lips. “Four months. I’m going to get you out of here, Alia. I promise.” Promises meant nothing. Stephen wasn’t searching for me anymore. He told me. The police announced me dead after he planted a body. I saw her before they killed her—she looked like me.

“Eat.”

I took the bowl from him and slowly started to eat. It tasted good. I tried to eat everything, but I couldn’t. He took the bowl and straightened. I looked up at him.

“Hold on to the memories, Alia. It’s the only thing that will keep you sane.”

***

He wanted to see me. His men came to get me. They tied my hands behind my back and blindfolded me. I knew the way to his office. We weren’t going to his office today. My body started to shake. When he took me somewhere else, it was for punishment. I didn’t do anything wrong. I kept my mouth shut and did what he ordered. We stopped, and then a door opened.

It creaked loudly in the silence. With a hard push, I stumbled forward. The door slammed shut loudly behind me. I winced when the blindfold was ripped from my eyes.

“Nice to see you again,” he muttered. His eyes trailed over me. They lingered before moving over my shoulder.

“Lock the door,” he said to whoever stood by the door.

I sucked in a breath when he walked behind me. There was a tug on my wrist and then they were free. I wrapped my arms around my waist. My eyes darted around nervously. A double bed was pushed against the wall right in front of me. It was bare apart from a white sheet covering it. There was nothing personal in the room.

“Strip,” he ordered.

I shook my head. The only man I ever stripped for was Stephen.

“I said strip!”

“Go to hell,” I croaked.

He laughed. “Hold her.”

Hands gripped my arms and forced them away from my body. He stopped in front of me. I jerked against their hold when he stepped closer. There was nowhere to run. Rough hands started ripping off my clothes. I was left in my dirty underwear, but even that didn’t stay on long.

I screamed.

They picked me up and forced me onto the bed. With my arms kept immobile, I used my legs instead. Someone cursed when I kicked him in the leg.

“Tie her up!”

I fought harder, but they were stronger. My arms were forced behind my back. I cried out in pain. The rope dug into my skin when they tied my wrists. My elbows were also tied tightly together. They picked me up and moved me higher on the bed. A weight came down on top of me.

“You got her?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep her down.”

Tears filled my eyes when my legs were spread. His sweaty hands started trailing over my skin.

“I’m going to see why my son likes fucking you so much.”

I bit down on my lip when he entered me. The weight on top of me pressed me tighter against the bed. It was hard to breathe, but I didn’t fight it. Passing out while he raped me was the only thing I could wished for. His weight shifted.

Warm breath brushed against my ear. He grunted. His hold on my hips became just as painful as his thrusts. I gave up trying to keep the tears at bay. They trailed down my cheeks and onto the sheets.

“Keep hold of the memories.”

***

I hung from the ceiling. The room smelled of urine and blood. I was so tired. My body jerked as the door slid open. I didn’t even bother to lift my head. It was always him who came to visit. It was always him touching me and making me do things to avoid punishment. It was always him.

“So lovely,” he muttered.

His shoes appeared in my line of sight. They had blood splatters on them. My blood.

“We will be moving again in an hour. I expect you to be dressed.” He walked closer to grip my jaw. I was forced to stare into his eyes. “You’ve become my favorite pastime, but I’ve grown tired of you. I found myself a new pet that fights and screams when I fuck her.”

I blinked. I’d given up fighting him a long time ago. He enjoyed it. What’s the use of fighting when it only made him hurt me more? He had already ruined me in every way he could think of. I became his fuck toy. Something for him to stick his dick in when he felt like it. Now he could kill me because he had no more use for me.

“I’ll get big money for you even if you’re not a virgin anymore. I have someone willing to pay over a million,” his hold on my jaw tightened, “but you’re not going anywhere. Do you know why? I’m going to mark your skin and then send you back to that fucking bastard. He will watch you suffer and then die.”

Who was he talking about? I had no one. I was his toy. He called me his slut. I was a slut. His slut.

“Alia. Come on, we don’t have much time until he sends men to get you.”

The chain slowly lowered until my feet touched the blood-soaked floor. I found the strength to raise my head and stare at the man. He called me Alia. He said it was my name. I don’t remember his. He told me once a long time ago.

“Jesus, what did you do?”

“He wanted me to suck him. He forced his dick into my mouth, so I bit him,” I whispered.

The man moved behind me and gently started to clean my back. It burned. It was supposed to feel worse than anything he’d ever done to me, but it didn’t. Whipping me didn’t hurt as much as it did when he carved his wife’s name into my thigh. Unconsciously, my hand moved toward the name. I could trace every letter with my fingertips.

“He’s taking you to his home hidden somewhere in the woods. I don’t know why. The others won’t tell me anything.”

“Is he going to kill me?”

“No.” He gently covered my back with a bandage. I looked up at him when he sat down in front of me.

“I found your Stephen. Do you remember him?” I shook my head. “Try to remember, Alia.”

I closed my eyes. I couldn’t remember. I saw nothing but darkness. All I ever saw when I closed my eyes was the man who took me.

“Try to remember him, Alia. He will come for you.”

***

It was a man with beautiful green eyes. He was covered in tattoos up to his neck. Brown hair hung over his forehead as he leaned over me. He smiled, and I could feel my heart cracking.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Heat flooded my cheeks. I reached up and brushed shaky fingers against his cheek.

“So are you.”

He laughed. “I’m not beautiful, baby.”

“No.” I smiled. “You’re super sexy, especially when you wear your uniform.”

“You don’t look so bad either when you’re dressed in your school uniform.”

The image faded only to be replaced by another. This time I sat in the middle of the bed watching him. He was focused on the computer. A curse flew from his lips.

“What are you looking for?” I questioned softly.

He glanced at me. “A song. It’s on here somewhere, but I just can’t find it.”

“Try searching for it.”

He leaned forward and quickly typed something. A few seconds later, he stood and turned to face me. He stepped closer to the bed and held out his hand.

“Come here, baby,” he ordered softly.

I hesitated but crawled to the edge of the bed and placed my hand in his. He tugged gently. I stood and stared up at him. His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. With a tug on my hand, he led me to the middle of the floor. I frowned as he walked back toward the computer. Seconds later, music started drifting toward me. He smiled then as he stepped closer.

“I’m not much of a dancer, but I don’t think I’ll step on your toes.”

I laughed as I allowed him to pull me closer. His arms wrapped around me. Our bodies brushed against each other as he slowly started to lead. It felt nice. I dropped my head against his shoulder as I slid my arms around his neck. His lips brushed my ear.

“Just relax and let the music lead you. It’s just us. You and me.”

My eyes fluttered close when he started humming along with the man. It was just us, and that was all I needed.

***

My body jerked when he grabbed my ankle. I didn’t fight him when he started pulling me down.

“Get out,” he ordered.

I cautiously pushed myself up and slowly slid out of the car. My back hurt and my body ached. I glanced around from beneath my lashes. It was only trees wherever I looked. He gripped my arms and turned before tugging me behind him as he walked toward a house. It was built in the middle of a clearing. Paint was chipping down from old wood.

“I have a special job for you,” he said. “You will care for that bitch until the baby is born, and then I’ll send you back to him.”

The wood creaked beneath our weight as we climbed the steps. My nose wrinkled when the smell registered.

“I expect you to keep this place clean. I don’t want the baby to get sick or anything. I’m getting big bucks for her and a few other newborn infants.”

I took small steps forward and away from him when he dropped my arm. It was small. We stood in a living room. A few old, ripped chairs stood around. The floor was covered in dust and leaves. I glanced up. A hallway led into the kitchen that looked even dirtier than the living room. There was a staircase that led to the second story. I cringed; the stairs looked really unstable.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to the mother to be.”

I followed him up the stairs and down the hall. He led me to the end before opening the door and stepping aside. I hesitated for a few seconds before stepping inside. It was almost too dark to see anything, but I saw her.

“You’re going to help her with the birth.” My eyes snapped to him. “It’s too risky to take her to a hospital or get someone to come in. If anything happens to the baby, I’ll kill you.”

He walked out of the room. I was glued to the floor, but my eyes moved to her again. She sat bundled on the bed beneath thick blankets. From what I could see, she was deadly pale and extremely thin. Her hair was cut short—almost against her head. “H-hi,” I whispered. “What’s your name?”

She remained silent. I took a step closer. The bed was narrow. It looked a lot more comfortable than the thin mattress he gave me.

“My name is Alia.”

Saying it out loud made me remember. Alia was my name. Alia Dune. My name’s Alia Dune, and I’m a fighter.

Chapter Forty-Two

There was so much blood. She cried out, but it soon turned into a scream. I glanced at her. She looked paler than usual, and her skin was covered in sweat.

“You need to push,” I said.

I looked back down again. My stomach heaved, but I managed not to throw up. I wasn’t fit for this. She was going to die, and so was the baby. It was stuck inside.

“Is the kid born yet?”

I glanced at him over my shoulders. He entered the room along with two of his men.

“There’s too much blood. The baby is stuck inside.”

I scrambled to my feet when he cursed violently. I pressed myself against the wall as I watched them. My eyes widened when he pulled out a knife. Without care, he started ripping her clothes over her stomach. Her scream echoed around the room when he started cutting her stomach. Blood splattered. I couldn’t hold it any longer. I slid to the floor and started puking. Her screams finally died down only to be replaced by another cry.

“Get it cleaned up and fed!”

***

Today the baby turned three weeks old. It was a little girl with the most beautiful brown eyes. She was too silent for a baby—not that I had much experience. In two weeks, he would take her to be sold. I learned that he found couples desperate enough for a baby and then sold the children to them. The people were willing to do anything, even pay millions. I stared down at her as I rocked her. She had just fed and was slowly drifting toward sleep. The room was cold, but I had wrapped all the extra blankets around her. She felt warm so I knew she wasn’t freezing. Thunder made me jump. It was getting colder by the day, which made living here worse. Wind seeped through the cracks in the wood.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered as I stroked her cheek. “I wish I could help you.”

“Alia!”

“I promise I didn’t do anything wrong,” I whispered down at her.

I stood and walked over to the mattress I had moved into the closet. It got her away from the cold. Gently laying her down, I made sure she couldn’t roll off. He stood in the living room when I walked down the stairs. My hands shook the closer I got. He looked angry, and that was never good.

“Pack up. We’re leaving. Make sure you leave no trace of that baby,” he almost yelled at me.

I ran up the stairs before he could do anything else. My heart was beating erratically in my chest. Something was wrong. I paused at the window. Movement in the tree line caught my attention. They had surrounded us. It was hard to see what they were wearing. Hope flared but quickly died down. He had a lot of enemies. It could be them trying to take him out. I hurried into the room and gripped some ripped clothes. I quickly tied them together to use as a bag.

My heart sped up in panic as I rushed around the room. I didn’t know where exactly we were, so I had no clue how long it would be to find help. I’d spent days planning an escape, but I was too afraid. Now was my only chance. He would be distracted, and that would give me the time to run. I tied her things to my back before moving toward her.

“This is the police. You are surrounded. Come out with your hands in the air and surrender.”

A memory tugged at the back of my mind, but I refused to focus on it. He could kill us. I had to get her away from here. She stayed asleep when I picked her up. I tried to stay as quiet as possible as I made my way toward the stairs. I peeked down. No one was within sight. I was halfway down the stairs when I heard him. They were in the living room and walking down the hall that led to one of the other rooms.

“You can do this, Alia,” I whispered to myself.

“This is the police—”

I blocked them out as I snuck down the hallway. I pressed my back against the wall before glancing down at her. She was still asleep. Heavy footsteps crossed the wooden floor. I sucked in a breath when he stormed past. He didn’t glance at me but made his way upstairs instead. I rounded the corner and froze when movement by the window caught my attention. My eyes darted around. I was filled with panic.

“Think, Alia, think!”

I stormed over to the stove and grabbed the pan. The floorboards creaked when I ran across them. A gasp fell from my lips when the door was slowly pushed open. Not even a second later, tattooed hands appeared, holding a gun. The rest of the man’s body slowly came into view. He was dressed in a police uniform with other guns strapped to his hips. He also had a knife strapped to his thigh. I watched him as he silently moved farther into the kitchen. The longer I stared, the more familiar he became. It was when he turned around that I knew. Green eyes locked with mine and then widened.

“Alia,” he breathed.

I didn’t think. I reacted. The pan flew through the air. I didn’t stay to see if it hit him or not. The door stood open, and it was the only chance of escape I had. Rocks and sticks dug into my feet as I ran for the forest. I held the baby tighter against my chest as I dodged trees and fallen logs.

“Alia!”

He was behind me now. I could hear his heavy footsteps. Eventually we both would tire out, but I wasn’t going to allow them to catch me.

***

I pressed myself tighter against the cold rock. She was crying. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to make her stop. It was raining but not hard enough to drown out her cries. A twig snapped close by. I pulled the blanket over her to hide her. My heart was beating erratically. I was scared, so afraid that they would take me back to that house. Or he would find me and kill us. He couldn’t kill her.

“Alia.”

My eyes snapped up. I stared at the man with the beautiful green eyes as he slowly came closer. He held his hands up and away from his body.

“Easy, baby,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

My body tensed when he lowered himself to his knees. He slowly moved closer until he cut off some of the rain.

“Do you remember me?” I shook my head. “My name is Stephen. Try to remember me.”

He looked sad. I took in his wet hair and pale face. His eyes caught my attention again.

“Is that your baby?”

I shook my head and then slightly moved the blanket to show him her face. She was quiet, but she wasn’t sleeping. Her big brown eyes stared up at me.

“How old is she?”

“Three weeks,” I whispered.

“Where’s her mom?”

Tears filled my eyes. I’d spent a lot of time with her even though she never talked to me. She became my friend.

“Alia.” I looked at him. “Talk to me, baby. I need to know if her mother is still in the house so I can tell them.”

“She’s dead. They buried her in the forest.”

“Did you know her?”

I shook my head. “She never talked to me. I had to care for her, but when the baby was supposed to be born, things went wrong. There was too much blood, and the baby was stuck. He cut her open with a knife to get the baby. She died.”

His figure became blurry as more tears started to fall. I remembered him. He was my Stephen.

“You didn’t come.” He frowned at me. “I waited and waited, but you never came to save me.”

“I tried, baby. I tried so fucking hard to find you. I—”

“I want to go home,” I whispered. “I need home. It’s cold here, and I’m hungry.”

“I will get you home,” he promised.

Something peeped. I jumped slightly when a voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

“He ran into the woods. Keep your eyes and ears open. He’s armed and dangerous.” Stephen reached up and took hold of a black thing. He raised it to his mouth before pressing a button. His eyes never left mine. “I found Alia. She has a three-week-old baby with her.”

“Is she okay? What’s your location?” another voice answered.

“She’s fine. Scared and cold but I don’t see any other injuries. We’re in a clearing west of the house.”

“He’s heading in your direction.”

“Fuck.” Stephen suddenly reached out. I flinched, trying to make myself smaller. Warm hands gently cupped my cheeks. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “I want you to stay very quiet. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“I-I will try.”

“Remember, stay silent.”

He gave me a small smile before he stood and disappeared from sight. I rubbed the baby’s back as I waited. She was sleeping now, but I knew she’d be hungry soon. If I moved, someone might see or hear me. Hours seemed to pass. It was getting darker by the minute. I could barely make out the trees. The rain had slowed, but the wind was picking up.

The baby suddenly let out a loud cry, and that’s when all hell broke loose. I twisted my body to shield her as someone started firing. The sounds echoed around the forest. It was hard to tell exactly where it was coming from. Sharp pain made me gasp. I was suddenly paralyzed because of it. I bit my lip to keep myself silent. The pain was coming from my left shoulder.

“Come out, you fucking bitch! I want the baby. You can go if you hand it over.”

“Give it up, Dave,” Stephen called out. “You are surrounded. Lower your weapon and surrender.”

“You fucking do anything and she dies.” I screamed when he grabbed my arm and pulled me from my hiding place.

The baby almost slipped from my arm, but I managed to hold on to her. Something cold pressed against the side of my head.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” he snarled. “I’m going to take the baby and walk away. You get your bitch back.”

“That’s not going to happen,” someone called from behind a tree. “Let her go and surrender, Dave.”

“You know I can’t do that, son.” He laughed. “Your girl was a fighter. Bit my dick, but I made sure I taught her a lesson.” He pressed the gun tighter against my head. “I really enjoyed fucking her while she was bent over my desk. My men enjoyed her too.”

I frowned. I didn’t remember his men touching me or him ever touching me in his office. He never allowed his men near me unless they had to escort me to him.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Don’t fucking insult my mother. She was a better woman that your mother ever was.” His arm wrapped around my waist to pull me closer to him. “Did he tell you his mother was a prostitute? She fucked everything and everyone for her next fix.”

“Shut up!” Stephen yelled.

“You didn’t tell her? No wonder she stuck by your side. Did he tell you that my daughter died because of him?”

“I didn’t kill her!”

“So he says.” He leaned closer until his lips brushed my ear. “I really enjoyed our time together, but now it has to end.”

I didn’t want to die. Memories of my family kept me alive all this time. I wasn’t going to let this bastard take that away from me. Shifting slightly, I hit him with my elbow as hard as I could. He cried out. The moment his arm loosened around my waist, I pushed away from him. I spun around just in time to watch a bullet enter his head.

The gun slipped from his hand, but he didn’t fall. A few more bullets hit him until he finally hit the ground. I sucked in air. Panic washed through me when men suddenly started running out of the tree line. My knees weakened and then gave way beneath me. I slid to the damp ground.

“Alia. Baby, are you hurt?” Stephen was kneeling next to me.

He held a flashlight, which he dropped next to us. Hands gripped my arms gently to pull me closer to him.

“She’s bleeding.” Someone touched my back.

I jerked away from him. A whimper fell from my lips when my body came in contact with another.

“Don’t touch her,” Stephen ordered. “Look at me, baby.” I turned my head to look up at him. “Brian is going to take the baby girl to the ambulance. It’s starting to rain again, and it’s getting cold. She needs medical attention.”

I shook my head, holding her closer against me.

“She needs medical attention, Alia. Do you want her to get sick? Hand her over to Brian.”

“I’ll stay with her the whole time,” Brian said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to her. You have my word.”

Tears filled my eyes when I looked down at her. She was sleeping again, and she hadn’t even fed. I sucked in a breath and then slowly let it out. My lips brushed her forehead before I handed her over to him.

“She hasn’t fed,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I’ll tell them. She’ll be fine.”

I watched him walk away until he disappeared into the trees. A touch on my arm made me turn my head.

“You’re very brave, baby,” Stephen said softly.

I shook my head. I was a coward. All thoughts fled from my mind when the sharp pain in my shoulder registered. I cautiously glanced at it. The sight that greeted me made darkness wash over me.

Chapter Forty-Three

Three weeks later…

“The doctor is happy with your progress.”

“When can I go home?”

She paused and then slowly straightened. Her dark brown eyes watched me with concern.

“You keep saying that he’s happy with my progress, but you never tell me when I will be discharged.”

She reached out but hesitated. I waited for her to touch me. Instead, she lowered her hands and took a step back. “You’ve been through a lot. That was before you were shot. Your body has suffered a lot of abuse, and it needs to heal.” She paused. “Your mind also needs to recover. Once the doctor is certain that you’ll be okay, he will discharge you.”

She left before I could question her anymore. I fought the urge to throw something at the door. I had woken three days ago from a medically induced coma with Patrick at my side. He was the only one I’d seen. No other family had come to visit me. Not even Stephen. Being under had made me remember. I remembered my life before I was kidnapped.

The things that had happened to me during that time would never be forgotten. I would never be able to forget the face of that man. After a few hours of being awake, the doctor had come in to speak to me. He explained that he had placed me in a coma to heal. According to him, my body and my mind were in a bad place. I was shot twice the night they came to rescue me. With internal bleeding and low blood pressure, I was rushed to the hospital.

They managed to stabilize me. I’d been kept in the room with no TV or radio. Nobody was allowed to give me any newspapers to read. The nurse that looked after me also refused to answer any questions that involved my family. Whenever I asked Patrick about them, he told me they were fine. I was getting sick of it. I wanted to see my mom and sisters. Hell, I even wanted to see Michael.

What the hell were they hiding from me?

***

I glared at Patrick. He sat across from me on the edge of the bed. Patrick smirked at me as he lowered his cards.

“Don’t be a sore loser, sweetheart,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I dropped my cards onto the bed. He laughed as he collected them. We’d been playing different card games for the past hour. The nurse had come in before disappearing again. I was given some pain medicine and something else that made me feel slightly woozy. I glanced up when I heard the knock on the door. Seconds later, it opened. If I could get off the bed, I would’ve ran to him. It felt great seeing another familiar face.

“Can you give us some privacy?”

“Everything you have to say to her or she has to say to you is my business,” Patrick said softly.

They stared at each other silently for a few minutes. Michael finally nodded. He softly closed the door behind him before walking further into the room.

“I spoke to the doctor. He said you’re doing good.”

“They keep saying that, but no one tells me what’s going on. They won’t even get me a TV or radio.”

“They have their orders,” he muttered.

Michael took a seat on the chair next to the bed. He held a thick brown file in one hand. “How are you doing?”

I shrugged. “I’m fine apart from not getting any answers.”

“I know you don’t really want to talk about what happened, but I need—”

“You need nothing,” Patrick cut him off. “She’s been through hell, and you want to drag her through it again.”

“I don’t want to.” He glanced at me. “I have a job to do. The sooner we can get this over with, the better.”

“Hit me with it.” I sucked in a deep breath and slowly blew it out.

“I need you to tell me exactly what happened the day you were kidnapped.” My eyes dropped to my lap. I felt sick as the memories played through my mind. I knew I had to tell him what happened. Patrick took hold of my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I was at the supermarket getting some things. When I walked out, I saw the van and called Stephen.”

“Why?”

I licked my lips. “When we went to the beach, there was an incident.”

“What sort of incident?” Patrick questioned.

Too late I realized that I had to tell them everything to make sense of what I had said. I squeezed Patrick’s hand tighter. “Remember that day I went to the party?”

“You came home crying and spent most of the weekend locked up in your bedroom,” Michael said softly.

“Kate and I were talking, and someone overhead us. They announced the fact that I was still a virgin to everyone.” I glanced up at him. “I hated going to school after that night. They called me names and teased me. I got fed up, so I did something stupid.”

Neither man said anything. They waited for me to continue. With tear-filled eyes, I did. “I placed an ad online that I wanted to sell my virginity.”

“How the hell could you have been so fucking stupid?” Patrick exploded.

I glanced up at them. I hated to see the disappointment in their eyes.

“Go on,” Michael ordered softly.

“I used a fake picture, but I told my real age, name, and where I lived. I got two replies. One was from a stranger and the other from Stephen. He told me to meet him and I did. That was how I met him.”

“Son of a bitch!”

I ignored Patrick and continued to tell them the rest. “On our last day at the beach, we decided to go watch a movie. We split up. Kate said something that made me mad, so I took off.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them. My eyes moved to Michael. “I walked into a man. He tried to drag me toward a van, but I started fighting. He called me by my name. After that he injected me with something. I was paralyzed. He would’ve succeeded in kidnapping me if someone didn’t call out. He promised he would find me again.”

“Would you recognize him if I showed you photos?”

I nodded. It wouldn’t be hard to recognize him. He’d been my tormentor since he kidnapped me again.

“You called Stephen?”

“Yes. I told him about the van, and he asked for the license plate number. After I hung up, I walked to my car and he was there again. I was injected again. When I spun around, Kate stood there with the injection. I passed out. I woke up in a container with other girls. I remember Anne and Mary.”

“Can you describe them?”

I gave him a description of all the girls I could remember. He wrote down every single detail before asking a few more questions. I kept the details to a minimum. They didn’t need to know all the details of the abuse I had suffered. Patrick had stormed out of the room when I briefly mentioned the raping. I could tell that Michael wanted to walk away too, but he had a job to do. When I finished, we sat in silence.

“Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” I questioned.

Michael sighed. He closed the file and placed it aside. His eyes caught mine. “Do you know for how long you were gone?”

I frowned. “I was kept in a dark room most of the time. The only time I was allowed out was when he wanted me. I wasn’t aware of day or night. Time was lost on me.”

He surprised me when he reached out and gripped my hand. “You were gone for two years, Alia.”

I was shocked into silence. Two years. My heartbeat increased. I tried to blink away the tears, but they fell anyway. Michael stood and took a seat on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him as I allowed a sob to escape. I’d missed two years of my life thanks to that bastard.

“I want to see Mom,” I whispered.

He sighed. Michael pulled away. He cupped my cheeks and wiped the tears with his thumbs. I couldn’t understand the sadness I saw in his eyes.

“Alia, your mother…” He swallowed. “Your mother is gone. She died a few months after you got kidnapped. I’m sorry, honey.”

Chapter Forty-Four

I still couldn’t get over the fact that I stayed with that man for two years. I missed my graduation, the birth of my sister’s child, the death of my mother, and a whole bunch of other things. I was living in hell while everyone else went on with their lives. I didn’t even have time to completely mend things with my mother before her death. I wasn’t there for my sisters when they needed me. I didn’t know how to feel about it. After two more weeks in the hospital, I was discharged.

They gave me a list of specific foods I needed to eat and avoid. I was also forced to go see a therapist. Michael had insisted on it. I had to sit in an office with a stranger for an hour while she asked me questions. Answering them was harder than I wanted to admit. I was free from him, and I didn’t want to think or talk about the nightmares I had lived.

Going home was even harder. It didn’t hold the same love it usually did. It felt cold and empty. The moment I stepped through the door, I burst into tears. It took me an hour to finally calm enough. Emma hadn’t come near me at all. All I got from her was a small smile before she walked off. Sam was no different. I was a stranger to her. Michael tried everything to make me feel welcome.

There were times when it all just got too much. I got so angry and agitated that I exploded. I threw stuff at him and screamed until the tears fell. Not once since I was released did Stephen come to visit me. He didn’t call either. A part of me missed him, but the other part was glad he was gone. I was free, and I had my life back. I had changed, and so had everything else. I was never going to be the same girl I was before.

***

“Have you decided about taking the online classes?” I glanced up at Michael as he entered the kitchen.

We’d come to mutual agreement after I returned home. I had forgiven him for what he did. Even though we weren’t blood related, he was still my father in every other sense.

“Not yet,” I said softly.

“It’s better than nothing.” He grabbed a soda then made his way over to me. “You said yourself that you’re not ready to face people.”

“I’ve lived in isolation for two years. It’s hard enough driving to the shrink.”

“Your appointment is in half an hour. Do you want me to drive you?”

I considered it but shook my head. I wasn’t planning on going to the appointment today. I’d had enough of that woman for the week. He stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before making an excuse and walking away. When I was sure he had disappeared into his bedroom, I stood and gathered my bag.

I drove the familiar road, but instead of taking the road to town, I turned and headed in the opposite direction. The cliff was isolated. I felt the panic rising as I stepped out of my car. I enjoyed being alone at home, not so much out in the open. My mind was playing tricks on me. I was expecting someone to jump out, but it didn’t happen. Taking deep, steady breaths, I stepped forward. I hesitated only for a second before sitting down. Dirt dug into my hands, but I shook it off.

A sigh fell from my lips as I stared at the city below. My peace only lasted for a few minutes. I stood when I heard the car approaching. A familiar green truck parked behind my car. I blinked rapidly as I watch Stephen climb out. Our eyes locked, but he dropped his first. There was awkwardness between us that was never there before.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“H-hi.”

“I stopped by the house, but Michael said you left. So I drove all the way into town, but you weren’t there either. I figured you’d be here then.”

“Why now, Stephen?” I whispered.

I knew he would understand what I asked him.

He seemed to hesitate before looking at me. “I came to say goodbye.”

I stumbled back a step. He was leaving.

“I’ve been relocated to New York,” he said softly. “I can’t stay here anymore, Alia.”

“Because of me?” I asked. “Because you can’t bear to look at me now that I’m covered in scars? Or did you find someone else to fuck when I wasn’t here?”

“It’s not like that, Alia.”

“Then what’s it like, Stephen?” I took a step closer. “You were there when I was rescued. You never came to see me in the hospital. Not even when I returned home. Now suddenly you come here only to tell me that you’re leaving.”

“It’s for the best.” He turned, walking back to his truck.

“The best for whom?” I yelled. “After everything that has happened between us, you’re walking away from me now? Why didn’t you end it after I lost our baby? Or when your father tried to kidnap me the first time?”

“I thought I could keep you safe!” he yelled, spinning around. “I thought I could outsmart him, but I couldn’t. There will never be a future for us, Alia, because every time I look at you, I remember why I should’ve just walked away. I couldn’t save you then, and I can’t now. My father ruined you. He killed the Alia I knew.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. His figure became blurry as I stared at him.

“If I had ended this sooner, if I had walked away from you the first time you told me you loved me, none of this would have happened.” He sucked in a breath as he took a step closer. “You wouldn’t have suffered at the hands of a sick bastard like I suffered at the hands of his wife. He was a sick fuck, and I wished I had killed him all those years ago. I had the chance, but I walked away because I couldn’t. Nathan and Carley needed a father. They needed a family.”

He suddenly fell silent. Stephen ran a hand over his face. His shoulders sagged as he stared at the ground.

“I ruined your life. You have a second chance, and I’m not going to fuck that up,” he said softly.

Stephen walked closer until he stood a few inches in front of me. He slowly reached out to cup my cheek. Shaky fingers traced the faint white line over my cheekbone. “I fucking love you too much to see you suffer because of me. The guilt and the pain I feel for everything you suffered will never go away. You don’t need a fuckup like me in your life.”

“That’s not true.” I reached up to cover his hand with mine. “I need you, Stephen.” He shook his head. His other hand wrapped around my waist to pull me against him. His head lowered, and then his lips were on mine. It was hard to miss the taste of his tears as he kissed me.

“I’m done,” he whispered against my lips. “I’m done talking and trying to explain things that you’ll never understand. Goodbye, Alia.”

“No!” I cried, trying to keep hold of him.

Stephen forced my hands from his. He almost ran to his truck. The door slammed shut loudly, and a few seconds later, he was driving away. Away from me and away from a life we had planned to start.

***

Losing Stephen was even worse than losing my mother. My heart had been torn to pieces that couldn’t be glued together. My family was there to support me, but it wasn’t the same. They couldn’t make me forget. They tried by organizing family dinners. Michael even managed to get Delilah and Dane to come and visit me.

The day Stephen left, I had given up on trying to fix myself. I had numerous scars on my body that was a reminder. Every time I took a bath or a shower, I would see her name carved into my skin. They couldn’t fix my skin, and they couldn’t fix me. I was an empty shell, and I didn’t want to change.

I tried to act normal for the sake of everyone. I even tried going to the mall but ended up having a panic attack. I couldn’t stand being around a large crowd. I couldn’t sleep in the dark. I couldn’t allow anyone to touch me. I hated it. All of it! I wanted to be the girl I used to be, but that would never be possible again.

Alia Dune had died.

***

“I wish you didn’t leave me, Mom,” I whispered.

I leaned forward and placed the flowers inside the vase. After a second of hesitation, I sat down. It still hurt. “It would’ve been easier if you were here with me. I really miss you.”

“She never left you.” I jumped, my head snapping to the right.

My mouth fell open but then slammed closed. I kept silent as Marlin stepped closer. He took a seat next to me and then leaned forward to place a single flower against the grave.

“She tried to hold on,” he said softly. “She fought until she couldn’t anymore.”

“I never mended things with her.”

“Neither did I.” I risked a glance at him.

His eyes were focused on my mother’s gravestone. “When she came to me and told me the truth, I was so pissed at her. I said things that I didn’t really mean, and I was too much of a pussy to go to her and apologize.”

“Do you hate her?” I asked him softly.

He shook his head. “No. In a way, I was glad that she never told me. I wasn’t ready for a kid back then. I couldn’t have taught you all the things Michael did or offer you a family. She made the right choice by keeping you a secret.”

“He never treated me like his daughter.”

“I know,” he said. “I think that when you got kidnapped, he truly realized how wrong he’d been. He was a disaster, Alia. You should’ve seen him. It was the first time I’ve seen him like that. And then your mother died and he lost it. After the year passed and you weren’t found, he gave up. He accepted the fact that you had died and he had failed you.”

I smiled at him. “I guess that’s why he’s trying so hard now.”

“Probably,” he muttered. He reached out and gripped my hand. “I don’t want things to change. We know the truth now, but we also know that things won’t really change between us. I watched you grow up and I love you, but I can never be a father figure. I’d suck at that.”

I sighed and leaned my head on his shoulder. It was peaceful. Only the sound of the birds could be heard around us.

“Michael is worried.”

“I know.”

“You’re not going to just give up, are you?” he asked softly. “I know you’ve been through hell, but the question is are you going to allow it to ruin your life? You’re still young, sweetie. What happened to you isn’t the end of the world. There are millions of people that suffer day and night, but they don’t give up. You survived for two years. You can do it again. We’ll be with you every single step of the way.”

Chapter Forty-Five

Three years later

I gripped my bag tighter as I stepped into the tent. All around me was a buzz of activities. I felt nervous but excited at the same time. This was the second time they had called me in to do this job. It took me two years to work out my issues. Two years with the help of my therapist and my family. I was close to being my old self, but not really. I hated small spaces. The dark freaked me out, and nobody was allowed to touch me. I had grown. I had fought my demons and won.

Marlin had said something that day that made me realize he was right. I made a suggestion to Michael after thinking it through. He said he would give me time to heal and then he would talk to the board. I wanted to help them when they rescued women who went through what I did. I enjoyed doing it.

Especially helping other girls and women. I didn’t go back to school to finish it, nor did I go to college or university. There was no use for it. I had an easy job, and it was one I enjoyed. I stepped deeper into the tent, toward the middle where a group of men stood. They were focused on something on the table. I cleared my throat after a second of hesitation. Their heads snapped up. One of them broke away and took a step toward me. He held out his hand.

“You must be Alia.”

“The one and only,” I muttered with a smile.

He returned it. “I’m Devon, and this is my team. The captain will be with us shortly. He’s just taking a call.”

“Okay.” I stepped closer toward the table. A large map was spread over it. Some spots were marked. “Have you located them yet?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer. “They’re hidden inside an old mine shaft.”

He was too close for comfort. I stepped back when his hand brushed my leg. My eyes darted around at the other men. One of them was focused on my breasts. A shiver raced down my spine.

“We’re still thinking of strategies to go in without them killing them or us.”

I nodded as I studied the map. It made no sense to me, but it kept my mind focused. The man’s hand brushed my leg again. I straightened and slowly turned to face him.

“If I wanted you to touch me, I would’ve stayed where I was. I moved away because you seem to have a wandering hand. I’m not a slut nor am I here for your pleasure. So in the future, I’d prefer you keep your hands to yourself or you might just regret it.” I glared up at him for a few more seconds before turning.

A hand on my arm made me freeze. He spun me around and tugged me against his chest. I fought the panic that rose.

“We’ve been here for three months without a woman in sight. I’m sure you’re here for a reason, so don’t play hard to get, sweet cheeks. I can rock your world.”

I spit at him. The bag dropped from my hand onto the floor. With my free hand, I slapped him. His hand on my arm loosened enough for me to step back. I didn’t waste a second. Lifting my leg, I kicked him in his crotch. My lips twitched when he dropped to his knees, cupping himself. He groaned.

“You may be an officer of the law, but that doesn’t mean you’re superior to anyone. I suggest you learn some manners or your boss and I’ll have some words.”

“You fucking bitch!” he sneered at me.

My eyes widened when he stood. He took a step toward me, but a booming voice made him freeze.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

My head snapped to the left. I sucked in air as I stared at the man who approached. His green eyes scanned the crowd before stopping on me. I saw the exact moment he realized who I was. His whole body froze and his face paled. Shock flashed through his eyes, but it only lasted a second. His green eyes turned cold. He muttered something beneath his breath as he walked closer. His eyes left mine and moved to the man a few feet away.

“What happened?”

“She fucking kicked me in the balls and then threatened to report me.” He glared at me.

“I was merely telling him that he needed to learn some manners. He touched me—”

“It was an accident!”

My mouth fell open and then slammed close. “He’s lying! I—”

“Shut up, Alia,” Stephen ordered softly.

My mouth snapped closed again. I lowered my eyes to the floor before he could see the pain.

“Come with me, Alia. I’ll deal with you later, Devon.”

I stepped forward to pick up my bag. A hand came down on my ass before I could see it. I gasped and stumbled backwards. Something caught on my foot, which sent me straight to my ass. I stared up in shock when Stephen suddenly stepped closer. He grabbed the man by his shirt before sending his fist straight into his face. The man hit the table and then slid to the floor. His nose looked broken. Stephen turned towards me and then reached out to pull me to my feet. He kept a hold on my wrist when he bent to pick up my bag.

“If any of you fucking raise your hand on her, if you fucking touch her, I will kill you. Is that fucking clear?” he yelled.

They nodded, and a few even took a few steps back. With one last glare at the men, he turned and tugged me along with him as he walked away. We walked out of the tent and into the searing heat. Even the men outside had fallen silent. I was sure they heard everything that had happened inside. Stephen stayed silent as we walked past tents until we reached one that looked larger than the others. He pushed me inside first before following me. I stared at the small spring bed that stood to one side. The other side held a small table. I jumped when he dropped my bag onto it.

“What the hell are you doing here, Alia?”

“Well, you don’t look very happy to see me.”

“I’m not.”

Ouch. I wrapped my arms around my waist as I turned my back on him. The tent was a little bigger than the others.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I turned back to face him. “Michael sent me here. He said he wanted me here when you rescue the girls.”

“He should have told me he was sending you,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

I allowed my eyes to trail over him. He was more muscular than I remembered. His hair was shorter, and it seemed like he had gotten a few more tattoos.

“If he had told you, then you would’ve made sure he sent someone else. You don’t want me here. I get it. I’ll stay out of your way. I’m just here to help the girls when you rescue them.”

“Fuck!” He ran another hand through his hair as he turned.

I bit my lip as he started to pace. He was agitated and angry. I had a sinking feeling that he was going to order me home.

“What were you thinking?” he questioned as he spun around. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is for you?” I opened my mouth but slammed it closed when he spoke again. “You’re in a camp with over fifty men who haven’t seen a woman in three months. I have more important things to do than babysit you.”

“You don’t need to! I’m here to do my job.”

“After what happened inside? You expect me to believe that?”

“I told you he touched me!”

“So you kicked him?”

“He touched me, so I moved away. He obviously didn’t get the hint. I told him I’m not a whore and that I’m not here for his entertainment. When I tried to walk away, he touched me again. It was either kick him or tase him.”

His lips twitched. “You have a taser?”

I sighed and then raised my shirt a little to show him the shocking pink taser strapped to my hip. “It was a birthday present from Patrick. He even got me a pink knife similar to the one you gave me.”

“Do you know how to fight?” I shook my head. “I’m not happy that you’re here. I don’t trust these men.”

“They’re your team.”

“No, they’re not.” Stephen walked over to the bed and sat down. “You will be staying with me. I’ll make arrangements for another bed. I’ll also teach you some self-defence moves. It’ll make me feel better knowing you’ll be able to take care of yourself.”

“Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No arguing?”

I shook my head as I glanced around. “I don’t want to be left defenceless. None of the other men stepped up to help me, so I think they’re pretty much the same as the others.” He nodded and then stood. I watched as he made his way toward the entrance.

“Aren’t you even a little happy to see me?” I couldn’t help but ask him.

Stephen paused. He turned slightly to look at me. His expression was completely blank. “No, Alia. I’m not even a little happy to see you.”

***

Everyone was gathered in front of the first tent I had entered. They talked softly amongst themselves as they waited. I caught a few of them staring at me, but thankfully, they kept their distance. Devon stood a few feet from me. He was glaring at me. I smiled and then waved at him. He had a small white plaster over his nose. Stephen had definitely broken his nose when he punched him.

“Stop terrorizing him,” Stephen muttered against my ear.

I turned, but he was already moving away. He walked to the front and raised a loudspeaker to his mouth.

“Listen up,” he called. “There’s been a change of plans. I want my explosive team in the tent as soon as you are dismissed.”

Explosive team? The mine was rigged with explosions?

“We have a new member on our team. I’d like to introduce Alia Dune, daughter of Chief Michael Dune. She’ll be staying with us until the rescue. Alia is here for work, not for your pleasure. If you want a whore, then you go to town to seek one. If someone touches her or so much as look at her in the wrong way, I’ll castrate you. Is that clear?” He paused briefly. “You’re dismissed. Meeting in an hour with different divisions.”

A total of three men walked into the tent while the others walked away. I stood there, uncertain. Michael usually allowed me to travel with one of his men. Did he know Stephen would be here?

“Come on,” Stephen muttered, pointing to the tent.

I stepped inside and instantly moved to a corner close to the table. The three men stood around it. Neither of them spared me a glance.

“We got some information from our man inside,” he said. “They are planning on setting up explosions around the exit.”

“Don’t old mines have two entrances?” I stepped closer to the table. “The mine a few hours’ drive from town had two entrances. It was built that way after a mining accident years before. They usually only use one entrance and leave the other one in case of an emergency.”

“She’s on to something,” one of the men muttered. “My name’s David.”

I took his hand. The ring on his finger was easy to spot. I gave him a smile before giving my attention to the other man who held out his hand.

“John.”

“I’m Jackson.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said softly.

“The map we have only shows one entrance,” Stephen broke the silence.

I stared down at the map. Now that I could study it closer, I realized that the mine wasn’t as big as I thought it would be.

“How many floors?” I glanced up at them. “It’s possible that they could keep the girls underground and they guard the top.”

“There are no underground tunnels. The mine was built upon a slope inside part of the mountain. There’s a total of four tunnels that lead to different sections.”

I bit my lip. “If they place explosives near the entrance, then they risk trapping themselves inside.”

“Not unless there’s another exit for them,” Stephen said. “I hadn’t thought of that.” I stayed silent as they started discussing possible places for the entrance to be. My mind trailed off slightly. Without meaning to, my eyes kept moving to Stephen. His words from earlier hurt, and I had no idea why. The pain he had caused me on the day he left had faded. I had glued my heart together by doing things I knew would help others.

“Alia.”

I blinked and then raised my eyes to his. “Yes?”

“Do you have hiking shoes?”

I glanced down at my feet before raising one to show him. They weren’t exactly hiking shoes, but they were comfortable.

“We will leave tomorrow at first light and split up. There are some hiking trails close to the mine. Keep your eyes and ears open, and don’t tell anyone else about this.” The men were dismissed seconds later.

I looked up to find Stephen studying me. “What?”

“You changed your hair color,” he muttered.

I stood frozen when he stepped closer and reached out. He touched a loose strand of my hair. “It’s darker.”

I swallowed. “I wanted a change.”

His eyes caught mine briefly before dropping down my body. Stephen sucked in a breath as his hand cupped my cheek.

“Stephen.”

Our eyes locked again. My heartbeat started to speed. It was just like the first time we met. The hair at the back of my neck and my arms rose. The electricity was still there between us even after all these years.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Alia.”

Chapter Forty-Six

My eyes snapped open the moment a hand brushed my arm. I blinked but couldn’t make out the person hovering above me. My mouth fell open but slammed shut again when he spoke.

“We need to leave. Get dressed and meet me outside,” Stephen said softly.

My body sagged against the thin mattress. I allowed the air to leave my lungs when he walked out of the tent. This was the first time in months I slept through the night. I supposed it had something to do with Stephen being only a few feet away. I got up and quickly pulled on a t-shirt over my crop-top. My feet slipped into my shoes by the end of the bed. I ran a brush through my hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail.

Stephen stood only a few feet away with his back to me. He turned when I walked up to him. Without a word, he led me through camp to a familiar green truck. The drive to town was a little awkward. Music played softly from the radio. Stephen didn’t spare me a glance as he drove. I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes. Memories of our time spent in the same truck filtered through my mind. Our laughter and the tears. My body heated when I remembered the time I gave him head while he was driving.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Stephen asked softly.

I turned my head to glance at him. His eyes were focused on me. I shrugged. I wasn’t really hungry. By the time we reached the hiking trail, the sun was already up. Stephen parked the car and then handed me a breakfast croissant. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

“How have you been?” Stephen asked softly.

“I have some good days and some bad days.”

“Why did you choose to do this?” he asked, glancing at me.

“Marlin made me realize that a lot of people are suffering more than me. I had lived through hell, but I got out. There are a lot of them that are still caught in that hell. Only men go in for the rescue. I hated it when you guys touched me. If a woman was there, it’d make them feel more at ease.”

“You hated it when I touched you?” he asked softly.

“My heart knew it was you, but my head—” I trailed off. “I still don’t like it when people touch me.”

We ate in silence after that. When we were done, Stephen gave me a few orders before handing over a backpack. We headed into the forest.

“Do you have your taser?”

“No, but I have my knife.”

We walked for an hour before taking a break. Half a mile in, Stephen started leading the way. We broke away from the trail and headed in the direction of the mine. I pulled the t-shirt over my head and stuffed it into the backpack. Sweat coated our skin as the heat rose. I was far behind him, but he thankfully kept in my view.

“How far?” I questioned when my legs started to ache.

Stephen didn’t answer. I glanced up at him but didn’t see him anywhere. My heartbeat increased when I started to panic. I rushed forward and almost slipped on some loose rocks. The trees gave way to a small clearing on a cliff. Fear hit me next. It was a long way down. The ground was loose and uneven. A fall like that would definitely kill somebody. I swallowed and took a cautious step forward. My stomach rolled when I saw the sharp rocks below. An arm suddenly wrapped around my waist. I was spun around and away from the cliff. The moment the arm disappeared, I spun around.

“Stephen,” I breathed.

“What were you doing? You could’ve slipped and fell. Jesus, Alia—”

“You were gone. I looked up and you weren’t there, and I thought—” I sucked in a breath. “I thought you—”

My words were cut off when his lips slammed down on mine. I tensed when he wrapped his arms around me to pull me against him. His tongue traced my bottom lip. My lips parted. I relaxed against him. This wasn’t some stranger. This was the man I fell in love with. This was Stephen. He broke the kiss and slowly pulled away. I swallowed. Stephen took a step back but kept his hands on my hips. My mouth opened but closed again when he shook his head.

“Someone is watching us,” he said softly. “I caught sight of the sun reflecting on something.”

“So you kissed me because you saw someone?”

“Yes.” He smirked. “And I really wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, I know where the other entrance is.”

***

My eyes were focused on the book, but my mind was focused on Stephen. He stood only a few feet away in only a pair of black boxer briefs. I bit my lip as I lowered the book. Dropping it onto the floor, I stood and walked towards him.

“Stephen?”

“Mm?”

“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten kidnapped?”

He froze and then slowly turned to face me. “I suppose we would’ve been married and had a few kids.”

“Do you still think about it?”

He sighed. Taking hold of my hand, he led me over to the bed. Stephen took a seat and then hesitated before pulling me onto his lap. He stared at me silently. “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you, Alia. At first I tried to forget, but every little thing reminded me of you.”

“You left me,” I whispered.

“I didn’t have a choice.” He looked away from me. “Everyone blamed me for what happened, and I blamed myself. It could’ve been prevented. I could’ve prevented it. Michael made it clear that he didn’t want me near you again. He told me to leave, and back then I thought it was for the best.”

“He made you leave me?”

“I see why he did it. If I had stayed—”

The flap of the tent was suddenly thrown open. A man entered and held up a phone. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I have a girl called Emma on the line. She said it’s important.”

I leaped for the phone. “Emma? What happened?”

“Alia,” she cried. “Dad and S-Sam were in an a-accident. T-they won’t tell me anything.”

“Call Patrick. I’m going to get there as soon as I can. I promise.”

When I turned, Stephen was there behind me. He caught my shoulders to steady me.

“Dad was in an accident with Sam. I need to get home, Stephen.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Get your stuff and meet me at my truck. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Stephen.” I gripped his arm. “Will you come with me?”

“I can’t,” he said softly. “I have a job to do, Alia.”

“Can we still be friends? I don’t want what happened between us to ruin a chance of friendship.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. “We can never be just friends, Alia.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

The flight was two hours long. By the time I reached home and then the hospital, I was a mess. Marlin was the first person I saw. He led me straight to the waiting room. Patrick was pacing while Tyler held a sleeping Emma.

“How are they?”

“Michael is in surgery, and Sam is fine. Her car seat protected her from the worst.”

“Where is she?”

“They want to keep her overnight to make sure she’s okay. The nurse will come get us when she’s comfortable.”

My eyes dropped to his hands fisted at his side. He wanted to say something, but he kept silent. After a few minutes, he gave me a stiff smile before turning away. I sighed. Patrick was never one to stop himself from speaking his mind. Time passed slowly as we waited for news on Michael. The nurse had come to let us know that Sam was comfortable and fast asleep. I stayed with her for a few minutes before heading back to the waiting room. Through the years, Michael and I had mended things.

Although some things between us were still a little awkward, Michael was my father in every sense of the word, even though he never treated me like his other daughters. Marlin was and would always stay my uncle. We agreed to never cross that line. It was the best for all of us.

At half past eleven, the doctor came out to see us. It felt like my world was going to crumble around me as I waited. I already had lost too many things in my life. Losing Michael…I didn’t even want to think about it.

“The surgery went well,” the doctor said. “We were able to stop the internal bleeding, which wasn’t as bad as we first thought. His arm is broken in two places, which will take a few months to heal completely. All in all, he is okay.”

“Can I see him?”

“He’s still heavily sedated. I suggest you all go home and get some rest. You can see him in the morning.” He turned to Patrick. “Sam will also be discharged tomorrow morning.”

He left all of us in silence. I turned toward Patrick. He ran a hand through his hair and then took my arm. I stayed silent as he led me from the room. We walked until we reached a side exit.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“I wanted to talk to you before you left, but I couldn’t. Michael refused to give me a contact number for you,” he said. “There’s some things I need to tell you I know Michael won’t.”

“Hit me with it,” I muttered as I leaned against the wall.

“I know that you and he mended things, and I don’t want to ruin it, but what he did was wrong.”

“Spit it out, Patrick.”

He sucked in a breath and slowly blew it out. “Michael forced Stephen to stay away from you after you got rescued. He stopped by the hospital every day, but they wouldn’t allow him in. Later, I learned that Michael had forbidden him from seeing you. He blamed Stephen for what happened to you. Stephen was a fucking mess, Alia, and the fact that your parents were blaming him just made it worse.” Patrick shook his head and then started pacing. “He was forced off the case. He wasn’t allowed to help or follow up on leads. Even after someone kept asking for him. Michael refused.”

“I don’t—”

“If Michael wasn’t so fucking pissed and hard-headed, we would’ve found you earlier. A man said he knew where you were, but he only wanted to speak to Stephen. He refused to talk to anyone else. We had no leads until that man showed up.” He sucked in a breath. “I went to see Stephen, and he was a fucking mess. Drunk out of his mind.” Patrick stepped towards me.

He reached up and hesitantly cupped my cheeks. “I saw how you suffered, and I’m not going to stand back while it happens again. Stephen fucking loves you, Alia. He would go to the end of the world for you. I know you love him too. I saw it in your eyes whenever you looked at him. All these years, he’s been asking about you, keeping track of you. He killed for you, and he’d do it again. Don’t walk away from him. He’s an asshole and sometimes he fucks up. If you love him, don’t let him go.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“You deserve some happiness. You hide it, but I still see the sadness in your eyes. He’s the one for you. Don’t give him up to please Michael.”

Patrick stepped back and pulled his phone from his pants. He pressed something and then held it out to me.

I hesitated. “I’ll call him once they’ve rescued the girls. I don’t want him to worry about other things.”

“Promise me that in two days you will call him.”

“I promise.”

***

Sam was discharged the next day and Michael a week after that. I had promised Patrick to call Stephen, which I did. He never answered his phone. It hurt knowing that he was probably ignoring me. He kissed me, but that didn’t mean he wanted to start things over again.

“Earth to Alia.”

I raised my head to smile at Tyler, who stood across from me. We were holding a barbecue for Marlin’s birthday. It was the perfect opportunity since everyone was here. This was the first time in two years that I’d stayed home for longer than two days.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Stephen,” I said honestly. “He didn’t answer my calls.”

“Maybe he’s busy. You said yourself that he’s leading the rescue.”

“Last time I was there, they were talking about explosives. What if there was an explosion and he got hurt?” I questioned as a hundred possibilities ran through my mind. My hands became clammy as an image of him bleeding and dying flashed through my mind. I pushed myself up and raced down the hall toward my room.

My phone lay on the bedside table. Without hesitation, I dialed his number again. It went straight to voicemail. My hands shook.

“Alia!” I raced out of the room when Emma screamed at me.

“What?”

I froze in the living room. Emma stood there with Patrick. Michael sat on the couch. I cautiously stepped into the living room. The look on her face made me frown. All of them looked deadly pale. Emma had tears dripping down her cheeks.

“A rescue mission has gone wrong when the mine collapsed after a few explosions. The number of police officers missing are still unknown. It has been announced that ten men were found dead and five critically injured.”

My legs gave way beneath me. I was numb. Stephen was dead or he could be one of those critically injured. Or he was missing. There was a possibility for each. I should’ve called him that night when Patrick told me to.

“I need to go there,” I said. “They need help. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“No!” I turned my head to look at Michael. “You’ll only be in the way. They know what they’re doing. I’m sure they got the girls out before the mine collapsed. Someone will be there with them.”

“I’m not going because of them,” I said softly. “I’m going because Stephen is there.”

Shock crossed his face. I saw him fist his hand on his thigh. So he wasn’t aware that Stephen was leading the rescue.

“You’ve kept us apart for years for whatever reasons you think was best. I’m not going to allow you to ruin my happiness anymore. You knew how much I love him, yet you forced him to leave.”

“I did what was best for you!” he yelled. “If he had stayed, then you would never have gotten better. You would’ve been dependent on him.”

“And if you weren’t so fucking stubborn, I would’ve been found earlier!” I allowed a humorous laugh to fall from my lips. “You allowed your pride to rule. If you had given that up and allowed Stephen to help find me, I would’ve been found earlier. That monster fucking raped me over and over again! I had months where he kept me locked in a room. I could’ve been found before that, but your stubbornness wouldn’t allow it.” I took a step closer until I stood right in front of him. He raised me, and I thought we’d become father and daughter, but I was wrong. “I hate you for making me live through hell. You had a chance to get me out of there earlier.” I shook my head and allowed the tears to drop.

“You’re a coward, Michael. I don’t what my mother saw in you when she married you. You’re not the same man you were when she married you.”

“Alia—” I ignored Patrick and walked back toward my bedroom.

Grabbing a backpack, I stuffed clothes inside. I grabbed my phone and charger and then headed toward the front door. Patrick stood there.

“I’ll drive you.” I nodded and then pushed past him.

The front door was ripped open. I tried to keep the tears from falling and managed. A car door slamming shut made my head snap up. I stumbled.

My heartbeat increased as I stared at the man. He looked up and then paused.

“S-Stephen?”

Chapter Forty-Eight

I dropped the bag and ran. He stumbled backwards slightly, but his arms wrapped around me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. He was alive. The possibility of him being hurt made me let go and push out of his arms. I pressed my hands against his chest and felt for bandages beneath the shirt.

“I’m fine,” he said softly, placing his hands over mine.

I looked up at him through blurry eyes. “I thought you…the explosions—”

“Drive with me?”

I nodded. Stephen gripped my hand and led me to the truck. He opened the door and helped me inside. I glanced at the house to see Patrick leaning in the doorway. He smirked and then gave me a wave before closing the door. Stephen drove us to the hill that overlooked the city. He grabbed a blanket and then led me to the spot where we had our last picnic. I stood aside as he threw open the blanket. Stephen took a seat before looking up at me. He patted the spot next to him.

“The accident happened a few days ago. We kept it silent until we could make sure all the girls were fine. If it had come out when the girls were rescued, then it would’ve made things worse.”

“I saw it on the news and I thought you—” I swallowed. “I thought I lost you.” Stephen gave me a small smile and then reached for me. He pulled me onto his lap. Strong arms wrapped around my waist to keep me pressed against his chest. His lips brushed my forehead.

“I’m sorry, baby. I thought I’d make it back before they showed anything on the news.” He moved the hair from my face. “I was carrying someone outside when it happened. I wasn’t hurt, but I stayed to help. It was a fucking mess. We managed to get all the girls out before it collapsed.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Traumatized but fine. They kept them on drugs.”

I dropped my head onto his shoulder. My fingers traced over his chest and arms. He was really here, and he was fine. Not a scratch on him.

“Patrick told me,” I whispered. “He told me what Michael did.”

I sat up to look directly at him. His hand on my hips gently stroked my skin. It was comforting, and it gave me the courage I needed.

“I’ve always cared what he thought of me. I thought that if I did what he wanted that he’d love me. I’m done with that, Stephen. I want to be happy. You make me happy. I know that you’ve been through shit because of me and—”

His lips covered mine. My hands slid into his hair as my lips parted. Stephen pulled back and cupped my cheek. His green eyes trailed over my face.

“I fucking love you so much, Alia. Walking away from you was the worst thing I did. I shouldn’t have listened to him, but what he said made sense. You needed time to heal.”

“You kept in touch with Patrick.”

“Yes.” Stephen smiled. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“Why?”

“It makes me seem like some kind of stalker.” His smile faded. “Will you marry me, Alia Dune?”

“That’s not a very romantic proposal.”

“I don’t have a romantic bone in my body, baby,” he muttered.

“You made my first time romantic.” I smiled at him, but it faded after a few seconds. “There are still some things I need to work out. I have scars, Stephen. I’m afraid that you won’t want me when you see them.”

“I’ll still want you when we’re old and grey and can barely walk. It’s not about what’s outside but in here.” He pressed his hand against my chest right over my beating heart. “Your beauty is just a bonus.”

I blinked back tears and gave him a small smile. “It will take some time before I’ll be okay enough to have sex again.”

“If you marry me, then we’ll have all the time we need to work through whatever is thrown our way.”

“Is that your way of trying to convince me?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

“Yes.” I hugged him. “I will marry you.”

***

Stephen and I got married three weeks later in court with Patrick and Nathan as our witnesses. Afterward, we went out for dinner to celebrate. We spent our wedding night playing some board games. We decided to spend our honeymoon at the beach house. It held some pretty good memories. It was there that we got to know each other all over again. Stephen told me what he did after leaving.

I filled him in on all the shit that had happened after I was discharged. It was hell for both of us. Stephen signed the house over to Nathan after we decided to buy a new one. The town held too many memories. After months of searching, we found a house about an hour’s walk from the beach.

The house was something fit for a family. It had had four bedrooms and two bathrooms. The backyard was huge with a pool that had safety netting. All we needed to do was childproof it and buy our own furniture. Stephen made sure to constantly touch me, just small brushes whenever he walked past me. I didn’t flinch away from his touch like I would others.

As time passed, I realized that the thought of having sex didn’t scare me as much as it used to. There were still those memories of being forced, but it was replaced by those of Stephen and me together. I planned everything. Stephen had made my first time special, so it was my turn to make our wedding night special. Even if it was a little late. Stephen had to work, so it was the perfect time to set everything up. I decorated the room in battery-operated candles and used rose petals and sticky notes to lead in toward the bedroom. The look on his face was worth it.

Stephen had seen me naked numerous times before, but it still made me nervous. It was our first time together after so many years. It was kind of funny because he seemed just as nervous as I was. It was only weeks later that I heard about Kate. I’d always wondered what had happened to her, but I didn’t ask.

Not until I got a letter from Kate’s mother. She found a few things of mine that I needed to collect. Stephen clued me in that Kate was arrested for her part in my kidnapping. She was also found guilty of child abuse.

Who would’ve thought that my own best friend would be found mentally unstable?

I’d lost touch with everyone after the kidnapping. Neither Delilah nor Dane tried to contact me. I made a few new friends after we moved, including an old one. Emily worked at the local supermarket. She had married and had a daughter. We became good friends. Life couldn’t have been better. I survived hell. And now I had the man of my dreams.

We had everything we needed, so it was time to start building our family.

Epilogue

“Just breathe.”

“If you tell me to do that one more time, I’ll kill you,” I breathed.

I groaned as I gripped the steel bar in front of the window tightly. Another contraction started. Emily stood next to me rubbing my back. Once the contraction passed, I sucked in a deep breath.

“I’m never getting pregnant again.”

She laughed. “You say that now. It’s like someone saying they’ll never drink alcohol again. Until temptation strikes.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, babe.” Emily wrapped an arm around my waist and slowly walked with me.

Walking was supposed to help. I should probably tell you exactly what had happened that landed me in this situation. Stephen and I talked, and he stated that he wasn’t ready to start a family yet. He wanted us to spend some more time together, so I agreed. A year and a half into our marriage, an accident happened. We were so focused on each other that we forgot the condom.

I freaked out when I realized I was pregnant. I cried when I told him. I was a fucking mess, and all he did was smile. He smiled and then laughed at me, but he assured me that he was happy. It wasn’t until we found out weeks later that I was pregnant with twins that he started to freak.

“How are things going in here?” I turned to face the woman who entered. She was short with greying hair and pale skin.

“The contractions are getting closer. About ten minutes apart,” Emily said softly.

“You’ll have your babies in your arms in no time, Mrs. Daniels.”

“Is my husband here yet?”

“No, but I’m sure he’ll get here soon.”

Time passed quickly. The contractions were closer together, and then came the time when I felt like pushing. Emily was by my side.

“You can push when I tell you to,” the doctor said softly from between my legs.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to keep my breathing even. A second later, the door burst open and Stephen appeared by my side.

“Sorry I’m late, baby.”

“This is your fault,” I managed to get through clenched teeth. “If you hadn’t stuck your dick in me, I wouldn’t be here!”

Emily started laughing. I caught the glare Stephen sent her. He took my hand and gently moved the hair back.

His eyes caught mine. “It takes two to tango, baby.”

***

Stephen sat silently in the chair. He clutched my hand with his. His head was tilted back against the chair and his eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn’t sleeping. After hours of labour, our babies were born. A boy and a girl. I turned my head when there was a soft knock on the door. It opened seconds later to reveal two nurses, each with a crying baby in their arms.

“Sorry to bother you, but these two are hungry.”

I smiled as I pushed myself up. Stephen helped me sit up and then lean back against the pillows. My cheeks heated when I lowered the gown. My baby girl was handed over to me. I gently guided her mouth to my nipple. She instantly latched onto it. My son was another story. With the help of the nurse, he finally started drinking. I stared down at them in amazement and some sadness.

“What are you thinking about, baby?”

I glanced up at Stephen. He was standing at the edge of the bed with his eyes focused on me. Or should I say my chest.

“I was thinking about the baby,” I said softly. “It’s been years since—”

“She was adopted,” he said. “A few weeks after staying at social services, a couple adopted her. I made sure they were fit to look after her.”

“And you said you wouldn’t make a good father.”

He shrugged, dropping his eyes to my chest again. Stephen shifted slightly and then reached down.

“Are you getting turned on right now?”

He smirked. “I can’t help it, baby. You look so sexy with our babies suckling on your tits. I never thought I’d see this day.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said as I glanced down at our babies.

“Just like their mother.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Stephen chuckled as he walked around and took a seat on the edge of the bed and stared down at them.

“I need to finish the paperwork, so we need to give them names.”

“I was thinking we could name her Ophelia,” I said softly.

“It fits her,” he muttered. Stephen reached out and stroked her cheek softly. His attention moved to his son. “How about we name you Thomas?” he asked softly. “Thomas Daniels.”

Stephen leaned forward and brushed his lips across mine. One of his hands cupped my cheek. He leaned his forehead against mine.

“Thank you for making me the happiest man on earth, Mrs. Alia Daniels.”

“Believe me, Mr. Daniels, the pleasure is all mine.”

About The Author

I’m a small town girl who loves to travel through books. The first book I read in school led to my addiction. It was only in grade seven when I picked up a pen and started writing. Of course the book got completed but it mostly consisted out of dialogues.

My love for writing grew. I wrote book after book and learnt as I went along. Now years later my dream finally came true.

When I'm not busy writing you'd find my head buried deep in a book.

I’m constantly thinking about new characters, worlds, and plotlines. I aim to please all my readers in the best way I possibly can.

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/suzi.debeer/

Readers group:

https://www.facebook.com/283788685885173

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/suzidebeer18/

Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/user/SuzideBeer

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/69449984-suzi-de-beer

Website:

https://www.sussandebeer.weebly.com

Join our Reader Group on Facebook and don't miss out on meeting our authors and entering epic giveaways!

Join today! "Where reading a book is your first step to becoming limitless..."

https://www.facebook.com/groups/LimitlessReading/

BEFORE YOU GO…

DON’T MISS OUT!

Would you like to be a part of our FREEBIE FRIDAY LIST and get 6 FREE eBooks and other exclusive sales sent to your inbox every Friday?

One email every week packed with bookish goodies!

We send out different genres such as Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Westerns, Paranormal, New Adult, and much more! If you’d like to join over 53,000+ subscribers, click below to be a part of FREEBIE FRIDAY…

Join FREEBIE FRIDAY!

Who doesn’t love a good eBook bargain?

Now, imagine receiving daily eBook sales straight to your inbox…Bookworm heaven!

Sign up for the BOOKSHARK NEWSLETTER and don’t miss out on epic eBook sales ever again!

BECOME A BOOKSHARK

Do you crave books that make your skin sizzle? Your toes curl? Your heart race?

Do you crave the edgier kind of romance where the hero isn’t always the good guy?

Join the CRAVE LIST and receive emails with exclusive giveaways and information on Crave Publishing’s titles that will have you glued to your Kindle, craving more.

JOIN CRAVE