Her eyes darted to the door that was cracked open an inch. No doubt, her kids were sleeping down the hall. That gaze came back to me. A pleading confession. “They’re my world.”
“As they should be, and I refuse to get in the middle of that.”
Tried not to puke when the visions flashed.
Cruel, vile pictures of what I’d done. What I’d been responsible for. What I could never take back.
I needed to remember my purpose. The reason I still breathed.
Her disbelieving laughter was rough, laden with hurt and disgust. “So I’m a no go because I have the horrible complication of being a mother?”
It was an accusation.
Like she couldn’t look at me for a second longer, she jerked away, turning to leave.
Panic belted me.
I grabbed her by the wrist because I couldn’t let her walk away thinking something so wrong. She released a sharp gasp when I yanked her back around.
I leaned in close, the words gritted from between my teeth. “No. Because of the horrible complication of who I am. You want to know what I think about your kids?”
She blinked, unable to keep up.
“I think they’re fucking amazing, and I think you’re the luckiest damned woman to get to call them your own. That you get a love like that. But I don’t.” My teeth ground as I spat out the words.
She swayed, caught in a web. Not sure if she wanted to run or if she wanted to stay.
But I wasn’t done, yet.
“You want to fuck, Mia? Fine. Let’s do it. I’ll gladly devour your sweet little body. I’ll mark myself so deeply on you, you will never forget me. But you and I both know whatever this is? It’s more than that. More than I can give. More than I can handle. And believe me, it is more than you want. And the last thing I want to do is leave another scar on who you are. I think you’ve had plenty enough.”
Soft lips parted in surprise, in need, and fuck, I wanted to gorge on the sound. Her heart pounded in the bare space between us and those sable eyes darted all over my face.
“Is that what you think of yourself? That you’re some awful human being?”
A dark chuckle rolled free. “You said it yourself. I’m nothing but trouble.”
And that title wasn’t some kind of cute nickname.
“I don’t believe you.”
“What you believe doesn’t change who I am.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “And maybe you’re the first beautiful thing I’ve seen since the last of the beauty was ripped from my life. I can’t sleep. I can’t dream. I can’t paint. And then you came here . . .”
She trailed off. Unable to put a finger on what she felt or maybe not wanting to put a voice to it.
Agony clawed at my insides. That feeling overwhelming. This girl too fucking much.
My gaze moved to the blank canvas behind her. Slowly, I turned her back to face it. Taking her hand, I dipped it into the black paint.
Images of the paintings that hung in the house gusted through my mind, that haunting intuition that this girl held.
I clutched her by the wrist, and I set my lips against her cheek. “The only thing you see when you look at me is your beauty reflected back. You are the true definition of it, Mia. Beauty. You stole my breath the first time I saw you. You are the creator of it. I won’t taint that.”
Didn’t matter if I knew her for a day or a month or a year.
Some people bled goodness. Kindness and hope.
Mia?
She gushed it.
The problem was, she was lost to a flood of goodwill.
All her broken, mangled pieces swept up in the torrent.
She slashed a single stroke down the length of the canvas. “And what happens when the beauty is gone? What happens when none of it is left inside?”
I pressed my front to her back, my hard up against her soft.
There was no way to mix it without something breaking.
My hand splayed across the pounding in her chest, my fingers tapping out the beat of a song that sought to be released. One that had possessed my spirit in an instant. Lyrics alive in my mind.
You came out of nowhere.
A trainwreck.
Paradise.
Moved.
Desolate.
Would give it all up.
If it would keep you from falling apart.
My mouth moved to the shell of her ear. “You’ll find it. You just have to look in the right places.”
God knew, she wouldn’t find it in me.
I forced myself to step back.
Felt like I was rending myself in two. Talk about fucked up. Didn’t even know this girl, and she managed to make herself feel like something that had been missing all along.
Like she was essential.
Natural.
Fated.
The perfect torment.
What could never be.
Eleven
Leif
Sixteen Years Old
Keeton held open the door at the back of his auto-repair shop. One I’d chalked up to as storage but I was getting the drift real quick that it was used for undivulged purposes that I hadn’t before been privy to.
“Go on in.”
Wasn’t even wary when I angled through the door, floating on this high from the bike ride over.
Didn’t think I’d ever experienced anything that made me feel so powerful.
So free.
So right.
Like I’d just come into who I was supposed to be.
Vitality pumping in my blood, I stepped into the back room, eyes taking in the space. A couple tables were set up in the middle, and there was a bar in the back.
The excitement I was drunk on only dipped for a single beat when I took in the men filling the space.
A couple faces I recognized.
Most that I didn’t.
All of them rough like Keeton. Worn at the edges. Aggression and intimidation written in their bones. Didn’t take a lot to surmise they did bad, bad things.
All those questions I’d had about my stepdad for the last couple years suddenly made perfect sense.
Every single one of them was looking at me.
Like they’d been waiting on my arrival.
Coming up to stand beside me, Keeton squeezed my shoulder. “Someone get this kid a drink. It’s his birthday.”
One of the guys behind the bar poured a tumbler full of golden liquid.
He slid it my way.
I glanced back at Keeton.
Again, wondering if I was bein’ punked.
Set up.
Because this just wasn’t right. Keeton nearly knocked out my teeth the one night he’d caught me stealing beers for me and a couple of my friends.
“Go on.”
My brow lifted.
He chuckled a rough, commanding sound. “Grab your drink. Then sit down and listen.”
My job was easy. There wasn’t a whole lot I had to do. Sit in the front of the shop. Make it all look legit. Book appointments. Make sure the mechanics actually did their damned jobs so Keeton could do his.
Sit back and reap the benefits.
Money.
More cash than I could fucking count.
Not to mention damned near any girl I wanted would gladly take a seat on my dick.
It made me feel like some kind of god.
Flush with power.
All I had to do was ride my bike up the street, and the seas parted. Fear and respect synonymous with the name.