STEADY

ANNA BROOKS

Copyright © 2017 Anna Brooks

Published by Anna Brooks

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All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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

The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Other Books by Anna Brooks

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

Fixing Fate

Previews

Acknowledgments

About the Author

OTHER BOOKS

It’s Kind Of Personal Series

Make Me Forget

Show Me How

Prove Me Right

Tell Me When

Remember Me Now

Give Me This

Pleasant Valley Series

Fixing Fate

Love, Me

Steady

Standalones

Not Your Hero

Easy Sacrifice

Bulletproof Butterfly

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Dedication

To my boys

If there’s anything I want you to learn from me, it’s that you are capable of doing anything you want. You can be anybody you want to be. And you can make your dreams come true, no matter how big they are.

Chapter 1

Erik

I sit on the end of the bed in my best friend’s spare room with my head hung and wait until I hear his garage door close. It pains me to open my eyes, but I have to in order to stand. My head is killing me. My body is sore. My mind is a mess. But one thing is clear—I need to leave.

Not sure how much longer I can continue doing this back and forth to myself. Pretty sure a disconnect exists between reality and the pathetic truth. And after every binge, I can’t decide if I’m grateful or if I resent the reprieve.

I fit all my stuff into one duffle bag, and then easily finish off the vodka sitting on the dresser before I head outside, only to remember my car isn’t here. Racking my brain, I push the clouds away and battle my way through the mud to figure out where I left it last night.

The hotel.

That’s right. It’s only a mile or so down the road, so I’ll walk it. I don’t deserve to go back to my nice house and lay my head on a comfy pillow. I deny myself little pleasures like that when I do this shit to myself. Drunk me isn’t the real me, so I avoid anything that reminds me of who I really am or where I come from.

I’m so hungover right now. My breathing is unnaturally heavy, and sweat drips along my back as I drag my feet down the street. Each step I take jars my head and the dull pulse in my skull intensifies to a throbbing jackhammer.

When I get to the parking lot, I dig through my bag to find the keys then pop the trunk. Rooting through the boxes there, I pull out a few new sets of clothes and switch them with the dirty ones in my bag. Then I grab the box of liquor bottles, the glass clanking together as I walk, and head inside to check in.

“Hey,” I grunt at the chick behind the desk.

She whips her head up from her phone and clears her throat. “Sorry. I, uh…” With a small smile, she tries again. “Can I help you?”

“Need a room.”

“Okay. One king bed or two queens?”

“I don’t care. Just a room.”

She licks her lips, and even though I can tell she’s young—probably in her early twenties—I can’t help but think she might make a good distraction. She’s not that young. Older than Sophia ever lived. Because of you. My mind begins to punish me, and the need for a greater distraction sits on my shoulder and taps at the side of my head.

“How long will you be staying with us?”

“Don’t know.” I just need to get to a place where I can drown my sorrows in the dark. I’ve been staying with my buddy Smith and his girl, Mellie, for a little while. Originally, I was just going to crash for a couple of days, which is my usual MO—suffocate in self-pity then go back to work and fake it—but when shit went down, I stayed longer. Things have settled now, so it’s time for me to go.

“Okay.” She types on the keyboard and looks up at me nervously. Her large green eyes and red hair suddenly shine when the light from the sun hits her, and she shifts on her feet as she licks her damn lips again. “How many keys will you need?”

“Just one. But if you wanna come put that mouth to use, you’re welcome to take one for yourself and visit me later.”

Two kinds of women exist in this world. No, that’s a lie. There are three. The first are the good ones. The sweet ones, the ones who deserve a decent guy who’ll treat ’em like gold. I had one of those once. I know I’ll never get another, not that I deserve one, but girls like my Sophia are once in a lifetime, and hers was cut too short.

Since there is no substitute for her, I settle for one of the other two kinds. The ones who either jump on the invitation with no regrets, or, like the chick in front of me, they pretend to be offended or insulted but end up taking it anyway. They need to feel like they’re in charge and have the upper hand. I don’t give a shit which one I end up with just as long as the night ends with my dick in something warm and wet. These occasions are reserved for when I can’t solely reach the level of oblivion that it takes with the alcohol I pour down my throat in order to forget it all.

“Excuse me?” She puts a hand to her chest and gapes at me.

I read her name tag. “Listen, Shelly. I’ve had a shit morning. I plan on having a shit afternoon and then a shit evening. I’m thinkin’ I’ll be good by myself. But if you’d like to come join me, that’d be fantastic. If not, send a friend. I don’t really care either way. But don’t pretend you’re not staring at me like you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you until you scream so loud they can hear it on the roof.” I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and fight off how sick I feel with how easily those lines roll off my tongue. “Key please.”

She slaps a key into my outstretched hand. “Room three twelve.”

Without another word, I grab the rest of my shit and stalk to the elevator. As I’m waiting for it to open, I see her slide a key into her pocket through the reflective glass. The sight should make me happy, but it doesn’t. Not much makes me happy anymore, really. Not even easy pussy. It’s been months, because the thought of another forgetful fuck, another emotionless encounter, makes my stomach lurch. The rotten alcohol swirling in it doesn’t help either.

On the way to my room, I reach into the box and pull out another bottle of Absolut; that’ll make it feel better. Or it won’t. I don’t even care anymore. Before I left Smith’s house this morning, Mellie came to check in on me, and she caught me while I was thinking. While I was debating what the fuck I’m going to do with my life. Horrible shit went down with her and in order to help her, I immediately transformed into the man I really am. I just wish I could be him all the time.

It was easy to give her the blanket statement that I’m an alcoholic to get her off my back. Smith and Mellie don’t know a lot of things about me, so I keep up with that façade. Smith thinks when I disappear I’m off on a bender, and while sometimes that’s true, most often it’s not.

I do try to fight it. I tried to fight it yesterday. Even though I know I’m stronger, it’s just damn easier to be weak sometimes. And right now, I’m not only weak; I’m a coward. I’ve gone to a couple of AA meetings in the past, but I’ve never been particularly good in a group setting, so I ended up bowing out. Plus, I just didn’t relate with any of the people there. I’m not dependent on alcohol; I just like that it makes me forget, or at least it used to.

By the time I step foot inside the place where I’ll be spending the next couple of days or so, I’ve already drunk about a quarter of the vodka straight. Don’t even need a chaser anymore. Sure, my body has a physiological effect from it, but mentally, I might as well be drinking water. The memories, her voice—they swim through the alcohol and end up pulling me further under. Just enough to make me gasp for breath and burn my lungs—never enough to drown me fully.

I toss my shit on the ground then plop on the bed. With a sigh, I close my eyes, knowing that all I’ll see is her. I always see her. Sophia. The only damn person in the world who actually loved me after knowing the entire truth. The one who trusted me to take care of her. The girl who I wish would have taken me with her. The woman I destroyed.

But before I ruined her, I loved her. I will always fuckin’ love her. She was the light that shined through my dark. From the very first moment I saw her when I was fourteen, I knew there was something about her.

“What are you doing here?” Two sets of identical eyes stare at me as I slowly walk toward the picnic table. One boy, one girl. They look about my age.

Needing to get away, I wandered around the neighborhood but didn’t expect to find a park hidden in the wooded area. I wanted be alone because I’m really not in the mood to deal with people right now. I just got back from one of the stupid therapy sessions my grandma makes me go to.

I don’t need to listen to some shrink tell me that it wasn’t my fault when I know it was. He wasn’t there. He didn’t see it. He didn’t hear everything. It was my fault. I fucked up.

“I live with my grandparents down the street. Moved in a couple of months ago.”

“So?” the boy questions.

“Don’t be a jerk, Smith.” The girl elbows him and stands up. “I’m Sophia.”

“Erik.”

“Where did you move from?”

“California.”

“Why did you come here?” Smith asks.

There’s no point in lying. It’s not like the entire world doesn’t know. I open my mouth to tell them, but then Sophia smiles at me. She’s really pretty… sweet, gentle. And I suddenly don’t want her to know the truth. I don’t want her to know how dumb I am.

“My parents died.” There. Not a lie but not entirely the truth, either. The town of Pleasant Valley where my grandparents live is where my dad grew up, so a lot of people heard the news even though we didn’t live here when it happened.

“I’m sorry,” she says, walking to me.

“Sorry, man,” Smith says.

When she gets closer, I step back, but she doesn’t stop until she’s directly in front of me. I take in a whiff of her perfume and decide she smells like cherries. When she wraps her arms around me, I freeze. Nobody has touched me since it happened. I don’t expect it to comfort me so much. I kind of want to hug her back, but I keep my hands at my sides.

She finally pulls back and smiles. Damn. Close up, she’s even prettier; her eyes are a light brown, but her hair is several shades darker. She’s got a few freckles on the bridge of her nose, which is nothing compared to how many I have. But her smile. Wow.

Her fingers link through mine, and she tugs me down the dirt path until we’re next to her brother. He looks at our hands and glares at me. I pull mine out of hers and take a step away. He might be the same size as I am, but I’ve taken out guys bigger than him with one hand. The last thing I need is to get into it with an overprotective brother right now. Taking out my frustration on him might be fun, though.

“Now that you’re here, you can hang out with us. Not a lot of kids our age live in this neighborhood, so we’re glad to have someone else. Aren’t we, Smith?” She kicks at his shoe.

“Yeah.” He turns his back to me and puts his headphones on. “We couldn’t be happier.”

I let the memories take over because there’s no point resisting them. I’ve given up trying to combat them because when I try to push them further away, they always come back that much stronger. Our first kiss, our first time making love, the first time I snuck into her room and slept in her bed with her. Those make me smile. They remind me of what I had and are the only things that make any sense.

But then the shadows come. They start to slowly slide their way over the good… the light. The first time becomes the last. The pleasure becomes pain. The memories become nightmares. Our final conversation and how I yelled at her. How she cried. And even though I knew I shouldn’t have, I let her walk away from me. Her face flashes like bolts of lightning; fast and bright. Then the thunder hits; loud and destructive.

When they collide, I can’t take it anymore. I stand and throw the bottle across the room, the remaining contents splashing onto the carpet, turning the light colors darker. Everything is darker now. Nothing is working. Nothing fixes this. Nothing will fucking fix me.

I flick the latch on the door to prevent anyone from being able to enter and then go to the bathroom where I turn the shower on. I move the dial to as cold as it can go then strip my clothes off and get in. The pellets hit me, and it might as well be razor blades, but I take it. I endure it. I feel it. My lips start quivering, and my knees begin to wobble. My arms try to cross, and I wish the instinct to protect myself would go away. I force my arms to stay at my side, to let the sting hit me right in the chest. Right where it hurts the most.

As my legs begin to give out, I slide down until I’m on the shower floor. My body shakes so hard that my head continuously bangs against the porcelain. When black begins to blur my vision, I reach over to shut the water off even though my arm protests. The skin feels like it’s tearing there, but I know it’s not. My skin will be fine, and my body will recover, but my heart is already ripped so far down the middle that it’s beyond repair. No amount of sewing can put it back together.

My fingers slip on the handle a couple of times before I finally shut off the brutal stream for good. I then curl into the fetal position like the goddamned baby I am. My eyes are heavy, and the tremors subside too quickly. The sound of the door handle turning but then the resistance from the chain lock filter through the bathroom. Mumbled voices—two of them, she brought a friend—follow immediately after, then the door slams shut.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel like it, but right now the only thing I want is to close my eyes and fall the hell asleep for more than an hour. It’s been seven fucking years since I’ve slept more than an hour at a time. I’m so fucking tired.

Chapter 2

Polly

Every time the mail comes, I cringe because I’m waiting for the delivery of the eviction notice. I’ve gotten three notices; the last one was a warning that if payment arrangements weren’t made, the bank was taking over the house.

I don’t have enough money to pay the mortgage; hell, I barely have enough for gas and groceries. The cable is off, and I pay the absolute minimum to keep the electricity and water on. I’ve been saving as much as I can from my measly paychecks and tips from the diner. I’m up to almost a thousand dollars in six months, though. Hopefully that will be enough for me to find a cheap enough place to rent. I really don’t want to live in my car again, and I refuse to be on the streets. I promised myself I’d never end up there, and I’ve managed to keep that promise in the twenty-eight years I’ve been alive.

Carefully, I slide my finger under the seal and slide the paper out of the envelope. I can see the red stamp through the folds before I even open it. Thirty days. The paper feels heavy in my hands, but I unfold it and glance through the legal jargon. It really doesn’t pertain to me, though, since the house isn’t in my name.

“Okay. You’re ready for this, Polly.” I give myself a pep talk and then stick the notice on the fridge with a magnet. One month. I have one month to find a place to live. I’ll start looking after work today; it shouldn’t be too hard to find a one bedroom. “You can do this. You’ve managed before; you can manage now.”

Since I’m ready to start my shift, I take off and drive the ten minutes to The Lunchbox where I’m a waitress. It’s a little mom-and-pop restaurant that’s exactly what the name says: a place that serves lunch. The food is top-notch, and I think it’s so popular because of the limited menu and hours. They’re only open from eleven to three, so I don’t have to be there until about ten thirty. The hours were perfect when I was catering to the man who paid the mortgage, but now that he’s in jail, I wish I had an opportunity to work more. Since there isn’t, I know I’m going to have to get another job. I’ve just been putting it off.

The past few years have been nice; I’ve not had to run myself ragged working so much that I lose sleep and weight like I used to. But I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. I just wish I didn’t have to. I had a taste of the good life—although some would argue that living with a man who ended up being a murderer and is now in jail isn’t the good life. But it was better than anything I’d had before. He was actually nice to me; I had no reason to suspect he was a crazy person.

The front door chimes as I walk in, and I hear a giggle. The owner’s daughter, Rayne, comes through the kitchen entrance with her boyfriend, Vaughn, who owns the tattoo shop next door.

“Hey, Polly,” she says.

Vaughn nods at me as he makes his way to the door I just entered. I walk to the back to hang up my purse and avoid having to see or listen to them make out. They’re a little disgusting. For a grown ass couple, they act like teenagers.

Bitter much, Polly?

The absolute last thing on my mind is a man. I don’t need one to make me happy, and I don’t need one to take care of me. Never again. I’m honestly fine with being alone. I’m sticking with the independence thing until I die.

When she comes through to the kitchen, she’s got a dreamy look on her face, and it’s all I have in me not to gag. “No parents today?” I ask. Normally, her parents, the owners, come in first and do most of the prep work.

“No. They stayed an extra day at the casino. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I could have come early and helped.”

“It’s okay. I got it done. Vaughn helped, too.”

“Well”—I wrap my apron around my waist—“if you ever need help, just give me a call.”

“I will. Thanks, Polly.”

I walk out front to roll some silverware and contemplate my predicament. I don’t have a cell phone, so how would she even get a hold of me? I never needed one before and can’t afford to buy one right now. Shit. I really need to find a place to live so I can at least get a landline.

One of the regular customers comes in at eleven on the dot, and before he even sits down, I write his order for the daily special, grilled cheese and creamy tomato soup, then walk it to the window and give it to Rayne so she can make it.

When her parents aren’t here, it’s definitely more hectic, but I like it because that means I’m the only one on the floor, so I get to keep all the tips.

The day flies by, and before I get home, I stop at the store and buy a newspaper. Do people still put ads in the paper? I probably should have looked for another job months ago, but I was procrastinating and in denial. I’ve been in denial about a lot of things… mainly, how I let another guy dupe me.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined how messed up the man I was living with would turn out to be, and that’s a hard pill to swallow… especially since he’s not the first man to take advantage of me. I met Richard about four years ago when I was at my lowest. He found me next to a dumpster like a piece of trash. I was behind a building, and he happened to be walking through the alley. I’m certain if he hadn’t come back there, I would have died.

Although, at that point, I didn’t care either way. I was so strung out and in so much pain that death would have been welcomed. The memory of what I was feeling is still fresh, but if you held a gun to my head and asked me how I ended up where I was that day, I’d pull the trigger for you because I have no recollection. I mean, I know who doped me up, but I don’t know how I got to the point that I wasn’t even able to lift my head.

What I do remember is the pain my body went through in the weeks and months after. Pain like I’d never experienced before in my life. Pain I didn’t think I would be able to endure. Richard took me to the hospital immediately, and when I was lucid enough, I desperately fought to get out. I fought him, and I fought myself. I fought the doctors and nurses and therapists. I wanted out; I wanted to die. What was the point in living when I didn’t have anything or anyone to live for?

Looking back, though, I didn’t know any different. I didn’t know what he was trying to do. I’d never had anyone care enough to help me instead of hinder me. When you literally have nobody but yourself, you learn very quickly how cruel the world is. How cold people are. And that no matter how low you fall, there’s always another level of submersion.

When I was kicked out of the foster care system at eighteen, I did what I had to. I needed food, and in order to get food, I needed money. In order to make money, I needed a job. But who would hire a girl with no work experience and no skills? Not many. I searched, I hunted, I demanded. And I finally had a plan.

If I didn’t fight for me, nobody else would. I refused to become a statistic. I wanted better. I didn’t want perfect; I only wanted semi-normal. Safe. Stability. I didn’t think those things were too much to ask for. And Richard, he provided those things. He was strange to a lot of people, but it was easy for me to overlook his weird behavior because to me, he was the only person who cared about me. And that meant something.

All I’m trying to do is live day by day without him. I’m trying to come to terms with my situation now. Hoping for something… anything that will help get me through.

30 days later

The driver’s side window on the crapper car Richard bought me is rolled down even though there is a chill in the air. I sit across the street from my house—well, what was my house—as a bunch of people walk in and out of it. Some carrying furniture, some with suits, some with cleaning supplies.

This is it. I’ve officially been kicked out. The final chapter on that place is definitively finished. I start the loud engine and roll the window up then drive away. I was lucky enough to score a super cheap apartment above the art studio downtown. Rent is affordable since it includes the utilities, and its proximity to The Lunchbox is a bonus. That was a miracle to find. It’s small—a studio—but it’s mine. I’ve never had anything that’s just mine. Only mine.

Now, it’s time to interview for another job to afford said apartment plus save money for the future. When I arrive in front of the nightclub, I look in the rearview mirror, realizing it’s probably going to fall off any day now. Instead of angling it down, I push myself up to avoid the possibility of it breaking. I wonder if the guy I have an interview with will notice how empty my eyes are. How for the past few years they actually sparkled a little, but now that I’m back to being alone, they’re dull. I wonder if he’ll notice how sad I really am.

I take a moment to feel sorry for myself then give my head a shake, my blonde hair moving freely with it. My fingers shake slightly as I take the key out of the ignition, but when I get out of the car and begin walking to the door, the nerves go away.

To get this job, I need to be confident. I have to show them I can do this. That I can handle it. I need this job. I don’t want to quit the diner, so I need something in the evening, and this is perfect.

The heavy door makes my bicep burn when I pull it open. Before I’m fully into the building, a very large, very attractive, and very familiar man waves at me. “Holy shit. You’re the Polly coming in to interview?”

“That’d be me.” I smile and walk closer to Brad. He used to be a regular at the diner. His partner, Kennedy, is Rayne’s best friend.

“I didn’t put two and two together.” He stands from the booth he’s in and gives me a hug. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He motions to the booth he just vacated, and I slide in opposite him. “You just made my day so much easier.”

It’s not often that I’m given a compliment like that, so naturally, my lips curve up in a smile. “Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“I can cancel all my other interviews.”

My jaw drops, but I quickly close it and gulp, afraid to say something stupid.

“You want the job, right?”

“Yes. I do; I’ve just never waitressed at a bar before.”

“I know you, Polly. I know you’re a hard worker, and you’re friendly but not too friendly where you don’t take care of your tables. Rayne always talks about how lucky they are to have such a responsible and trustworthy employee. It’s perfect.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his water. “I just had to fire an employee who had been pocketing money for like, three months before I caught on.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good. I’m more pissed than anything.”

Being taken advantage of really does suck. Unfortunately, I know from personal experience. “I understand that.”

“Anyway.” He shakes his head. “Let me tell you about the job, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I need a cocktail waitress for my VIP section. It’s only open Friday and Saturday nights, but if you’d like to pick up more shifts, I can arrange that. It’d be nice to have someone else who can fill in at the bar when one of the guys is sick or on vacation.”

“Oh, umm, I’ve never bartended before, either. I don’t know if I’d be any good.”

He waves me off. “You’d be fine. But that’s down the road. I don’t even know if having just you in the VIP will be enough. I may have to hire someone else, too. But I’m sure you can handle it on your own at least for a little while until we figure it out.”

I laugh at his confidence in me.

“So when do you want to start? I don’t need references since—shit. Are you quitting the diner? Rayne will kill me if I steal you.”

“No! I’m not quitting. I just need some more hours than what she can offer is all.” The thought to quit crossed my mind once, but then I quickly shut it down. I really like it there. It’s such a good atmosphere and easy work; I feel like I’m hanging out with friends most of the time. It’s my happy place. Plus, I never know who will come in, and since a lot of business people dine there, I may meet someone beneficial.

“Okay, good. I’d need you to come in around six or seven then stay until close. We usually don’t get out of here until about three. If that’s too much, I—”

“It’s fine. I can do it.” That’s a lot of tip money, so I’d never turn it down.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Perfect. Do you want to start tomorrow?”

My eyes widen, and I stutter, not expecting to get the job that fast. Or at all, honestly.

“You don’t have to,” he quickly adds.

“No, I will. I want to. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Great. Here.” He hands me a stack of papers. “Fill these out and bring them back with you tomorrow.”

I take the papers and stand then follow him to the door. “Oh, I forgot to ask. Is there a dress code?”

“No. Wear whatever you feel comfortable in. The only thing I ask is that you don’t dress too provocatively.”

I do a quick mental inventory of my outfits, mainly jeans and t-shirts but also some cute skirts, and nod. I’ll be able to make it work. “Okay. See you tomorrow. And thanks, Brad.”

He pushes the door open for me, the brightness making us both squint. “See ya tomorrow.”

I turn my head to glance at him over my shoulder. “Yes, definitely. Thank you.”

“Polly!” He calls my name, but between that and the sunlight blinding me, I don’t see it. I don’t see him. I crash into a man; although a tree trunk seems more appropriate to describe what this guy is. Hard, wide, tall.

“Whoa.” His large hands wrap around my arms to prevent me from falling, which is proven more difficult as the deep timbre of his voice makes my knees weak.

I look up past his muscular chest—ready to burst under a tight gray t-shirt—and into a set of eyes that take my breath away. They’re beautiful, and from this angle, I can’t tell if they’re green or brown, or maybe amber, like honey. As they move over my face, an aura of sedation surrounds me. Calm. Warm. Safe.

His chest rises and falls against mine, and his arms flex around me. The security I feel at this moment weigh my lids down, and I soak up every single second of it as the sun warms me.

“Are you okay, Polly?” Brad’s words are muffled in my head, but when he raises his voice, it snaps me out of my embarrassing and inappropriate response. The man’s throat rumbles, and those strong arms slowly lower as he steps back.

I clear my throat. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Brad nods at the man, whose fingers slide across my lower back as he walks away and into the bar. How is a single touch so damn powerful? I can’t help but stare at him, his thick thighs, and confident stride. Damn. I bite my lip as he disappears inside the building.

What was that? Definitely something… most definitely someone I’ve never experienced before. I don’t react to men that way. I never have. I’m not sure what to make of it, but Brad’s chuckle forces me to focus on the now and not the man. “Sorry.” I forgot Brad was here, and now I’m even more embarrassed he saw me daydreaming.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Polly.”

I duck my head and scurry to my car. He waits until I get in and drive away before he begins taking steps backward toward the bar. I wave as I pass him and smile the whole way back to my apartment. Things are finally looking up for me.

Chapter 3

Erik

“We’re only closed on Mondays. I get it if you don’t want to do six nights, but honestly, bud, I could use the manpower.”

I sit across from Brad, an old friend and the owner of Complexity, and wait for him to finish. “You havin’ trouble?”

He sighs and tosses back the rest of his tumbler of whiskey. I can smell it from where I am. Haven’t had any in a while, but I can still smell its delicious aroma. “When I opened this place years ago, it was strictly a gay bar. But as time went on, girls started to realize they could come here, have a good time, and dance without being groped by drunk assholes. So I expanded by fifty percent when the coffee shop next door closed. But then, as you can imagine, those assholes started filtering through to find the girls, and now it gets so crowded I have a fuckin’ line at the door.”

“You havin’ problems with these assholes hurtin’ girls?” Makes my blood boil just thinking about some prick taking advantage of a woman. I might sleep with ’em, but I’d never, ever fuckin’ hurt one. And knowing it’d be my job to protect them from drunk pricks makes me feel an urgency I haven’t experienced in a long time. To protect Polly, the waitress Brad said he just hired.

The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever fuckin’ seen in my life. When she gained her bearings and gave me her attention, I saw more than I’d have liked to. Pain and regret swirled around in her ocean blue eyes like a cyclone… It’s what looks back at me every time I look in the mirror. I wonder if her eyes would get darker or lighter when I made her come. Dammit. I’m not going there right now. With anybody. No matter how fuckin’ beautiful she is. No matter how good she smelled, like vanilla and sugar. Bet she’d taste like it too. Fuck.

“Not yet. But I know it’s coming. I’ve hired bouncers, but I need something else. I need a whole goddamned security team.”

“And you want me to oversee that?”

He nods. “Don’t forget that I know who you are, man.”

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. “And who, exactly, am I?”

“You’re like your dad, Erik.”

At the mention of my father, I hang my head.

“He went from boxer to bodyguard and ran one of the most successful protection firms in California. You can’t tell me you didn’t learn from him.”

At least he hasn’t dug deep enough to know that I now own Ace Protection Firm, or The Firm as we like to call it. “He died when I was fourteen. What the fuck does he have to do with me?”

“You don’t think your reputation precedes you?”

My anger begins to rise. “What fucking reputation?”

“Erik, come on, man. You’re serious?”

This isn’t going to work. I came here to get away from the other life I live in Cali. Don’t really want to bring that here; plus, I don’t know how I could manage both. “Listen, Brad. We were on the same wrestling team in high school—”

“Which you won and broke state and even national records for.”

He’s got no clue, but it’s funny that he’s hung up on something that happened so long ago. “In fuckin’ high school, Brad.”

“You didn’t stop fighting after high school, Erik.”

He’s right. I didn’t. I tried to distract myself with boxing but eventually gave up on that. “I may have fought, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Stop trying to deny it. Jesus. Either you want the job, or you don’t.” His irritation aggravates me. “I need someone, and if you can’t do it, then I’m back to square one.”

“I didn’t ask for it. You called me, remember?” My lip twitches. “But fine, I’ll take the damn job.” Better to be drowning in work than booze. Plus, even though I’m not very close with Brad, we’ve hung out a couple of times in the past years, and it’s always been really chill.

He heaves out a sign of relief. “For real?”

“Yeah. I need to do something to pass the time.” To fill the void I’ve created.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

I shake my head. More like a life taker. “I’m not.” I stand, and he follows. “Give me a tour and let me see what you have for security now.”

“You’re not going to be impressed.”

“I’ll deal.”

As we walk through the bar, I take in the space. Trendy, dark, cramped. “What’s this?” I point at the small section behind a rope with several tables and some couches that sit on a raised platform.

“VIP.”

“What the fuck do you need VIP in a gay bar for?”

“Fuck you.”

“Isn’t that what Kenny’s for?” I deadpan, referring to the guy he’s dating.

The hard features, of the only person I know who is larger than I am, soften for a moment. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “But it’s not really a gay bar anymore, remember?”

I chuckle under my breath, and we continue to walk around. I listen to him, but my mind wanders to places it hasn’t been in a long time. Growing up with Ace Anderson for a father had its perks. He may have died when I was fourteen, but I learned more about being a man from him in that short time than most grown men will their whole life.

He worshipped my mother. Treated her like a goddamned queen. He showed me what it was like to be devoted to a woman. What real, honest, and true love really was. What you’d sacrifice for her, what you’d do to protect her. What you would give up for her.

But for every gentle part he saved for my mother, the ruthless part that had to keep her safe was tenfold. He started out as her bodyguard when he retired from boxing, and one thing led to another. After branching out and starting his own company, he met then married my mother, and they had me.

He showed me the ins and outs of running a protection firm from a young age since I wanted to hang out with him all the time, and he also taught me how to fight to the death. By the time I was twelve, I could take down men double my size and twice my age. I idolized my father. Until I didn’t. I don’t think about that, though. As much as I try to remember all the good things, the one bad thing he did outweighs it all, so it’s just easier to block that out.

So when Brad called me, I decided to see what he had to offer. I need a change. I need to be more. I just need something. Maybe this will become my new norm. Maybe I’ll forget about Cali altogether.

* * *

“Come on, hook a brotha’ up,” the wasted pain in my ass begs one more time, but I continue to scan the area, ignoring him.

I’ve been officially working at Complexity for three weeks. The first two weekends were chaos, but now that I have a feel for how things run, I’m much more comfortable. We have already hired two more bouncers on top of the two Brad already had.

We’ve got one at the front door, one at the entrance to the VIP section who also monitors the back door, a man at the bar, and one watching the dance floor. I don’t have a post, so I walk around and step in when one of the guys needs a break or if I’m needed. Which is why I’m at the front right now.

We’re at capacity, and this fucking dick face is pissin’ me off because he’s stepped on my new Timbs twice now. This is the worst part of the night. I hate manning the door because I’m forced to deal with idiots like this. He bumps into me again, but luckily, Manny pushes through the door just in time. He needs a damn raise for having to deal with this shit all night.

“Thank Christ,” I mumble under my breath and give him a chin lift.

Once I’m back inside and away from the bright light used to check IDs, I have to blink my eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dim lighting. A quick scan tells me not much has changed in the fifteen minutes I’ve been at the door.

As I walk around the perimeter, her laughter catches my attention. I angle my body so I can get a better view. Her legs, so damn long in a pair of skintight jeans, are the first thing in sight. I follow them up and bite back a moan at the way her curvy ass sticks out as she bends over to pick up a glass. When she stands and turns, my eyes continue trailing up to her chest, briefly stopping on her ample breasts, then when I reach her face, I have to look away.

It’s been years. Almost a decade since a woman made my heart race. I walk closer to her, to the VIP section, intending to circle it. Wanting to make sure she’s okay. I’d never admit I spend more time over here when she’s working, but something in me is magnetized to her. As I get closer, I hear her voice, low and demanding but with a hint of fear. “Let go.”

Adrenaline pumps through me at a rate I haven’t experienced before, and I shove through the crowd to reach her. I leap up onto the platform and swing my body over the glass partition, cutting off the other bouncer as he’s rushing over from the stairs. It takes a split second to see her struggling to free herself. And it takes even less time than that to find some motherfucker’s hand on her thigh. Her painted-on pants easily show how tightly he’s squeezing her leg since his fingers are indented in the fabric.

A growl leaves my throat, and in two strides, I have his wrist in my hand. I bend it backward, and the little bitch falls out of his seat. “Fuck.” He whines as he drops to the floor. “Ow, ow.”

I put a foot on his neck so he can’t move and glance at Polly. “You okay?”

She swallows and nods, even though her eyes are wide, and her normally tan skin is slightly pale.

“Tell me. Give me the words.”

Her eyes snap to mine at the harshness in my voice. “I’m fine.”

Brad comes up and begins to walk closer to me, but I shake my head. “I got him. Make sure she’s okay.”

He throws an arm around Polly’s shoulder and steers her out of the section. The guy beneath me groans, and I press a little harder before I lift my foot and reach down to grab him. With my hand around his bicep, I glare at his friends. “Am I gonna have a problem with any of you?”

They all shake their heads.

“Good.” I pull this asshole down the stairs, following Josh, the bouncer who mans the VIP section. He holds open the rope, and I drag this guy to the entrance. When I reach the door, it’s opened for me by Manny, and I shove this fucker outside. The crowd waiting in line gasps.

“You’re not welcome back here again. Don’t make the mistake of trying to show up because you will not like the consequences.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he groans as he stands up.

“You put your hand on my… on a woman, and she told you to let go. You didn’t. Now, you’re done.”

He tries to argue, but I turn my back to him and make my way inside. I head directly to Brad’s office where he and Polly are sitting on a couch. She has a bottle of water, and he’s watching her with a very pissed-off look on his face. This is the first time something like this has happened since I’ve been here, but I’ve been waiting for it. Kind of surprised it took this long.

“You good, Polly?”

She jumps at my question then laughs. “Jeez, how is someone so big so damn quiet? Yes, I’m fine. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I was about to hit him upside the head with my tray.”

She giggles, but neither Brad nor I return the sentiment.

“See.” Brad stands and runs his fingers through his hair. “This shit didn’t happen before. Granted, I’ve always had dudes working here, but still. It shouldn’t happen at all.”

He’s clearly frustrated, and I am too, but it’s not surprising. “I know you’re pissed, but unfortunately, that’s what happens when you put a beautiful woman in a confined space with a bunch of rich, drunk pricks.”

At my words, Polly turns her head to me. So damn beautiful. When she sees me staring at her, she suddenly finds interest in the label of her water bottle.

“The only solution is to get rid of the VIP and—”

“No.” I pause at Polly’s urgent tone. “You can’t. It makes the club so much money, and if you got rid of it, you’d lose a lot of customers. How long is the list, Brad?”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Four months.”

“Exactly. And you’re making thousands a night. It’d be bad business to close it. People come from all over just to be here for a night; it’s a one-of-a-kind club, and part of that is the new VIP experience.”

“The money isn’t worth you being harassed, Polly,” Brad states.

She tosses the water bottle in the trash and stands up. “Trust me, that was nothing. It’s fine; I’m fine. I can hold my own, okay?”

I follow her out of the room, ignoring Brad when he calls me. When she reaches the corner that will take her to the bar, I take a large step so I’m in front of her with one question on my mind. “What do you mean that was nothing?”

She tilts her head up to me, and I drop mine closer to hers. If I moved another few inches, I could have my mouth on her. Could finally taste her. Cup her tits and feel her nipples get hard. She’s more than her killer body, though, she’s hilarious. And confident. And smart. And I want to make her eyes sparkle with lust, not swirl with fear. I want to know if her heart speeds up around me like mine does around her. But that’s not what this is about.

“We’ve all got a past, Erik.” She taps the tip of her shoe on the ground. “I appreciate you stepping in. Thank you.”

She steps around me, and I lean against the wall as I watch her walk away, realizing I’ve got it bad. Really fuckin’ bad.

Chapter 4

Polly

I rush around to continue serving drinks the rest of the night and feel my face warming with each step I take. Not because I’m hot from practically running around. Not because I’m wearing tight jeans. But because of the man whose gaze I can feel on me, and it’s been like this since day one. He’ll be across the room, and I look up, and boom, our eyes connect.

Even though I try to ignore it, sparks fly every single time we look at each other. Butterflies tickle my stomach, and my heartbeat becomes unsteady. But I need this job. The money has been such a blessing these past few weeks. I’ve made more than I thought I would, which is part of the reason I’m so against the VIP closing. It’s really good money. I was finally able to open a savings account and hope to replace my car in the next few months. The piece of shit is barely hanging on as it is. And since it’s the last association I have with Richard, I want it gone.

I used the money I had previously saved on my first and last month’s rent, so when I started at Complexity, I only had about seven dollars in my checking account.

When I was living with Richard, I didn’t realize how much he actually paid for. Or how little I made. I took for granted having money handed to me for groceries, or the utilities automatically paid for. I contributed as much as I could, but working at a diner for five hours a day wasn’t enough to support anyone, yet he didn’t once complain about the finances. In fact, he encouraged me to stay at The Lunchbox and not work full time.

As the night turns to early morning, my feet and lower back begin to ache. It’s the last call, so everyone will begin clearing out shortly. I close out tabs, clear away empties, and clean tables. By the time the music shuts off and the lights are turned on, it’s two fifty. I yawn as I crawl into a booth and wipe down the seat.

A low rumble comes from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to see Erik. He’s fisted his hands at his sides, and his eyes are trained on my ass sticking up in the air. I slide out and lean against the table because with him looking at me like that, it makes my resolve weaken. He makes all sorts of things happen to me. Things I’ve never experienced with anyone.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“You’re the last one here. I’m just waiting so we can head out.” He swallows and runs a hand through his hair.

“Everyone else left already?” I knew Brad had left, but the other guys didn’t say bye like usual. I suppose since I was cleaning and lost in my thoughts, they might not have seen me.

“Yeah, they already took off.”

“Oh.”

He steps closer to me, and I try to back up, but I have nowhere to go. I don’t know that I want to go anywhere. I kind of want to stay right here. With him. “Polly,” he says, his voice low. “We need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Definitely where you’re not near a horizontal surface and we’re alone.” The tips of his boots touch the tips of my Chucks, and I suck in a shaky breath as I crane my head up to see his face. His tongue darts out and moistens his lips. “Unless that’s what you want.”

Of course, I want. I’ve never had a man’s hands on me strictly because he wanted to touch me. There was always an ulterior motive… Hell, maybe there is with Erik too; I don’t know. As much as I want to though, I can’t. I can’t risk it. I need this job and I need my sanity. One too many men has screwed me over, and I really like this whole independence thing I’ve got going on right now.

But I also like it when Erik’s fingers graze over my skin, no matter how innocent the gesture. When he’s around me, I find myself smiling more. His proximity calms me. I feel safe knowing he’s close. And because he makes me feel all those things, I know that when he gets sick of me, or when his true colors show, I won’t be able to be around him, and I’ll lose this job. And I can’t take that chance. For my job, but also my heart.

I shake my head, then I sidestep away from him, walk down the few steps that lead to the main club area, and toss the rag into a bucket behind the bar. His footsteps are close, and when I grab my purse from Brad’s office, I squeeze past Erik, whose frame is almost as large as the whole freaking door, and wait at the back entrance while he sets the alarm. Even when everyone else is with us, this is the normal routine.

Waiting for him to type in the code, I dig my keys out of my purse. He pushes open the door, glances into the alley, and walks out ahead of me. Then he reaches back for my hand. I put mine in his, and with his free hand, he clicks the door locks in place. Once secured, he releases my hand and guides me to my car with his palm on my lower back. The first time he did it, I didn’t even question it since it felt so good.

This is my favorite part of the day. The highlight of my week. No matter how many people walk out with us, no matter if he’s in conversation with someone else, he always does this. Protects me. Treats me special. I hate that I love it, but it’s impossible not to. Nobody has ever cared that much.

Sure, Richard cared about me in his own twisted way. The letter he sent me from prison burns a hole in my purse, but I haven’t opened it yet. Part of me is afraid that he’ll make me feel guilty for ignoring him, but after what he did, how can I continue to have any type of friendship with him?

It takes a throat clearing for me to realize we’re standing in front of my car.

I turn and try to smile, but it turns to a yawn. “Sorry. Long day.”

He brings a hand up to my face and runs his thumb along my cheekbone. It takes more strength than I thought it would not to lean into him. “Then you’d better get home and get some sleep, beautiful.”

He steps back, and I reach for the handle. It takes two tries, but I finally open the door and get in. As I drive away, I watch him in my rearview mirror until I’m forced to turn out of the parking lot and he’s out of sight.

* * *

“No, no, no.” I slam my foot on the pedal and hit the steering wheel. “Dammit.” After taking a heaving breath, I go inside and look through an old-as-dirt phone book I found in the bottom of a drawer and search for tow truck companies. After calling three, I found one attached to a garage that can tow it and then also repair it. I have no clue if they’re reputable or not, but he says he can be here in about ten minutes, so I give him my address. I also call Complexity and leave a message for Brad to let him know that I’m going to be late.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m standing here watching the tow truck driver hook up my car. He hands me a paper to sign. “Were you coming or going?”

“Going.” I sigh. I’m going to have to walk, and I’m going to be even later.

“Where to?” He takes the clipboard back and slides his sunglasses over his eyes.

“Work.”

He chuckles, jiggling his big belly. “Where is that?”

Everything is telling me he’s a genuinely nice guy. Probably mid-thirties, a little dirty, but that’s to be expected for what he does for a living.

“Complexity. The bar.”

“Oh, it’s not that far and I drive right past there. Do you want me to give you a lift?”

Still, I hesitate.

His phone chimes, and he looks at it then back at me. “I’ve gotta go. Do you want a lift or not?”

Why not? “Sure.”

I walk around the big ass truck and hop in, noting the picture of who I’m assuming is his wife and daughter. The engine rumbles to a start and I buckle up. Thankfully, the drive is short and uneventful, and he talks the whole time about his little girl who just turned four. When he pulls up to the front of Complexity, I thank him.

“No problem. They’ll look at your car on Monday and give you a call.”

Dammit, that’s two days away. “Okay. Thank you again.”

I open my door, and before I even have my feet on the ground, Erik is there, grabbing me by my waist and hoisting me out of the truck. He slams the door and turns to face me. Oh, he’s pissed. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches.

Predator, prey. He stalks me until my back hits the brick wall of the club. He puts his forearms on either side of my head, caging me in. The fury in his eyes should scare me, but it doesn’t. At all. In fact, I’m feeling the absolute and complete utter opposite of fear.

His nose actually brushes against mine. “What. The hell. Are you doing?”

“Excuse me?”

“You seriously got into a truck with a man you don’t know. Alone? Jesus Christ, Polly.”

My justification flies out of my mouth because I don’t want him thinking I’m an idiot. “My car died, and when he came, he offered me a ride since it was on his way. It’s really not a big de—”

“Oh, yes, it is. You were alone with a guy two times your size. He could have touched you, taken advantage of you… He could have hurt you.” He ends the statement on a whisper and drops his forehead to mine, his warmth sinking into me.

“He didn’t. And I was fine, Erik, perfectly safe.”

“Don’t ever do that again. Please. If you need a ride, if your fuckin’ drain is clogged, anything, don’t call another man. Call me.”

“Why?”

His lids close slowly before he opens them. The unrest swirling in his eyes makes them darken a shade, turning the amber jade specks the color of evergreens. “Because if something happened to you, and I wasn’t there…”

Oh no, I’m not letting him do this. I’m not letting a guy step in and think that I need to be taken care of. I’m not getting attached to someone only to be left in the dust. “I’m not your responsibility. It’s nice that you care, but I’m not going to call you if my door squeaks. That’s why I have a landlord; he—”

“Everything good out here?” Brad’s voice makes me jump, but Erik doesn’t move a muscle. It’s almost as if he was expecting him to come out.

“We’re fine,” Erik says without lifting his head from mine.

“Polly?”

“All good. I was just coming in, anyway.” I duck out from underneath Erik and smile at Brad. “Sorry, I’m late. My car died and I had to have it towed.”

“All good. I got your message.” Brad looks over my shoulder and raises a brow. “If you need a ride home, let me know.”

“I’m taking her home,” Erik states, as he walks by us then disappears into the bar.

Brad shrugs. “I guess Erik is taking you home then.”

“Guess so.”

Before we approach the door, Brad grabs my arm. “If he’s making you uncomfortable, Polly, I want you to tell me. I don’t care that he’s the head of security. I refuse to have someone working for me who—”

This man is so damn nice. “No. Not at all. He’s intense, sure, but he doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” I stop with my hand on the handle. “Quite the opposite, actually. I’m just trying to figure it out, I guess.”

“Okay. But I’m serious. You can always talk to me.”

“Thanks, Brad. I appreciate that.”

We walk inside, and after locking my purse in the locker in Brad’s office, I tie an apron around my waist and start setting up my section with drink menus and fake candles.

Chapter 5

Erik

“You’ve gotta chill the hell out, man.” Brad closes the door and leans against his desk after I walk in.

I plop down on the couch and press my fingers against my temples to alleviate some of the pressure. “Don’t you think I know that?” What is wrong with me? She’s turned me into a damn animal. This has never ever happened before.

“Are you feeling okay?”

A humorless laugh escapes me, and I rest my head on the back of the couch. I wish I could answer that. I’m feeling more alive than I have in a long time, but when I see her, and another man is around, I’m like a caged lion, ready to bite into a predator’s jugular and watch them bleed. I’m practically itching just to touch her. He can’t know that, though. He’ll fire me for thinking I’m nuts, and then I won’t get to see her. “I’m good.”

“Take a breather. You’ve gotta keep your cool, Erik. I get that you think she’s hot; hell, I’m with a man and I can appreciate how gorgeous she is, but you can’t be acting all possessive with her.”

I lower my head and give him a curt nod. “I know.”

He pats my shoulder as he walks out, and I take a moment to gather myself before standing. I’m acting crazy, and I don’t get like this. Hell, with Sophia I didn’t feel this… this primal urge to protect her. Maybe if you did, she’d still be alive. Of course I wanted her safe, but it wasn’t this intense. Maybe if it was, she’d still be alive.

Trying to push the thoughts away, I wear fake confidence and head out to the floor. After what happened last night with Polly, I station Josh physically in the VIP section instead of at the bottom of the stairs. Hopefully, his presence will deter anyone else from trying to touch her.

Hours later, I’m walking around the bar when a familiar set of small hands wraps around me from behind. I turn and hug her quickly then pull back. “What are you doing here?”

“I found out that one of my clients lives here, so we met for dinner, and now we’re having drinks,” says Mellie, my buddy’s girlfriend.

“Surprised Smith let you out alone,” I mutter with a raised brow.

“Shut up. He’s meeting me here in a lit—” Her eyes widen, and she covers her mouth. “Holy shit.”

“What?” I turn to see where she’s looking. The VIP section. Specifically, Polly. I know this, because Polly is staring right back at Mellie, and they both look like they’ve seen a ghost. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, my God, Erik. Do you know who that is?” Mellie shrieks.

“Polly?” As I say her name, she glances at me then quickly turns and walks away, heading down the stairs.

“That’s Richard’s Polly. Crazy, psycho Richard who killed a guy because of me.”

I turn to Mellie and shake my head. “No way. Her? She’s… she’s…”

“Too normal to have been with that freak? Yeah, I know. Always thought that when I saw her at their house.”

It’s not just that, though. She’s so sweet, and her smile lights up the whole damn bar; she shouldn’t have had to ever deal with him. And now he’s in jail. I was briefly told about her because she lived with him, but since she wasn’t a part of what happened, I kind of forgot about her in the whole scenario. “I’ve gotta go talk to her.”

Mellie grabs my arm, and I freeze. “Why the hell would you talk to her? She’s a bitch.”

Very slowly, I pivot my foot and lean closer to Mellie. Her eyes widen at the sight of the anger rolling off me. I can feel my temper rising, something that happens far too quickly and far too often when it comes to Polly. “Don’t ever call her that again.”

The left side of her lips lift. “Oh, my God. You like her.”

I don’t like her. I’m infatuated with her. I’m drawn to her. She intoxicates me. “I didn’t know it was her.”

“So you do like her?”

“Leave it, Mellie.”

“Oh, my word, I can’t believe she’s—”

“I said leave it,” I snap. Her smirk falls, and I immediately feel like an ass. I’ve never, ever raised my voice to Mellie before. She was there for me when I had a fuckin’ breakdown and was the one who finally forced me to tell Smith the truth about his sister and me. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I need to go, though, okay?”

She nods as she runs her fingers through her hair.

“Don’t leave without saying goodbye.” I put my hand on her neck and kiss the top of her head. On my way to find Polly, I stop at the bar and tell Vince to give Mellie and her friend free drinks for the rest of the night. Then I take off and search for Polly.

The back door slams just as I turn the corner, and I rush to catch up to her. She’s damn fast; those legs of hers move almost quicker than I can catch up. When I get outside, I find her pacing.

The smell of weed lingers in the air, telling me someone was just back here. “Don’t come out here alone, Polly.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Erik,” she snaps.

“I’m just looking out for you.”

She abruptly stops and turns. “Why? Why the hell do you care? And why the hell are you talking to me when you have that bitch in there? What, did she fuck up her relationship after she did mine, and now she’s out prowling? Trying to get you next?”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my Polly seems a tad jealous. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. Don’t call her a bitch.”

“Oh, so she called me a bitch? I didn’t even do anything. She’s the one who—”

“Enough.” I raise my voice, and she stops talking. “I was, no, I am best friends with Smith, Mellie’s fiancé.”

At the last word, she swallows and looks away from me. “God, this is so embarrassing. You know all about me now, don’t ya, Erik,” she states because I do know. And she has nothing to feel embarrassed about. What happened wasn’t her fault. “You know the poor, pitiful story of me. Guess you won’t be afraid to be near me and a horizontal surface anymore.”

The fact that she’s thinking about being near a horizontal surface has me speechless. And hard. She hangs her head then gives it a shake before she walks to the door. Before she can open it, I block the way. She needs to know I’m here. “This”—I point back and forth between us—“has nothing to do with what happened in the past. I don’t give a shit about that.”

She huffs. “For the life of me, I still can’t figure out why you care.”

“I can’t explain it; I just do.”

“Why? You don’t even know me. No”—she laughs—“you do know me. You know that I lived with a psychopath who’s now in jail for murder. But the fucked-up thing is, you don’t even know the half of it. You don’t know who I was before I was with him. What I went through. You only know what you think is true.”

I tilt my head. “It’s not true?”

“It’s not who I am.”

“And tell me, Polly, who are you?”

“I’m someone who’s messed up enough in life to know that I don’t want, nor do I need, anybody else but myself. Because the minute you give somebody your trust, they find a way to break you.”

“Pol—”

“No… just, enough. Leave me alone, Erik.” She pushes past me and walks back inside.

I take a breath before going back to work and shelving this conversation for another time. We’re far from over. She might think she doesn’t need anybody, but I’m going to prove to her that she needs me, and even though I never thought the day would come again, I need her. I need somebody. And she’s it.

The rest of the evening goes by painfully slowly, especially since she’s ignoring me, but I don’t let more than a few minutes go by without getting eyes on her. Mellie left already, and when Smith got here, I walked her outside to his truck.

The last call was just announced, and I’m so grateful I only have a little time left. “Backup at one,” Manny says through the earpiece.

Shit. I push through the crowd and help him break up a fight between four guys in front. They’re fighting over who gets to take some girl home. Never understood that. If a woman wants to fuck you, she’ll take you home with her. If she’s gonna play games, then she ain’t worth the hassle. The fact that these dudes are fighting over a random chick is pissing me off. I’d rather not be doing this right now. And of course, somebody called the cops, so I have to wait and give my statement. By the time I get back inside, I scan the empty bar, and my adrenaline begins to pump because I can’t find her.

I hurry down the hall and peek in Brad’s office, only to find the bartender sliding the deposit into the safe. “You seen Polly?”

“She left like five minutes ago.”

“Fuck!” I jog to the back parking lot and hop in my car then tear off down the street. It’s my job to know about the employees, so I already know her address. I go in the same direction she came from this afternoon and spot her about a block away. Walking alone. Pulling over, I take a breath to calm myself then get out. I don’t want to scare her, so I call her name. “Polly.”

She jumps a bit but waves me off. “I’m fine. Go home.”

In a few large strides, I’m next to her. I don’t say a word as I continue walking. She needs to realize I’m not going anywhere. I’m not even going to lecture her about how stupid it is for her to be walking alone right now. We walk up to her block, and just as we round the corner to cut through the parking lot, a homeless man appears opposite us. Her feet stop moving so quickly her body sways and her gasp echoes in the still of the night.

“Head down. Just keep walking.” I rest my hand on her lower back and push her to continue to her place. The position is a very familiar one to me. My blood is fucking boiling, thinking of what could happen to her if I wasn’t here right now.

As we pass the guy, he begs for money, screams profanities, and threatens us, but I just keep pushing forward. Not only do I not feel like dealing with anyone else right now, but I don’t want her to see me like that. She’s already unsure enough of me as it is.

Her hands shake when she roots through her purse, and I wait for her to find her keys, my eyes alert to our surroundings. But after a minute of her fumbling, I take them and unlock the door for her. We make our way upstairs and into the apartment. I close the door behind us and lean against it.

Glancing around her space, I can see everything since it’s a studio. Small, but cute, and totally her. Bright pink pillows on the couch and an old trunk for an end table. She even has fresh flowers on her little kitchen table.

“Why are you here, Erik?” she whispers from the kitchen. Her back is to me as she gets a drink of water from the sink.

No point in lying. “Because I like you, Polly. I care about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny. And smart.” I walk toward the kitchen. “And every time I look at you, I see how sad your eyes are, and I want that to go away. I want to take that away.” Her head falls forward, and I step behind her, placing an arm on either side of the sink. “And you’re so goddamned beautiful, it takes my breath away.”

She turns around, and I take a step back. I’d love to be as close as possible to her, but I don’t want her to think I’m pushing her. If this is going to happen, she needs to be the one to make the decision.

“How much do you know?” she asks.

“About what?”

“My past.”

“I know what happened with Mellie and vaguely why you were with him.”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip before she releases it. “What do you know about before?” I make the mistake of looking away for a second, and she takes that as the ammunition she needs. “Get out.”

“I don’t even know if it’s true. Tell me. You said that wasn’t who you were. So tell me who you are.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not. But I… I don’t need—”

“Polly, I—”

“Get out. I don’t want to sit here and wonder how much of this is sympathy.” She walks to the door and opens it. “I just want to go to work and make enough money to support myself without needing help from anybody. I don’t need anybody. I’m doing just fine all by myself.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away. “Can you please leave?”

Without taking my eyes off her, I walk toward the door and slam it shut, then pull her into my arms. Her body shudders, and she grips my shirt as she cries. One of my hands cradles her head, and the other holds her up with an arm around her waist. I press my lips to her forehead and then lift her up and carry her to the couch where she straddles me, her face pressed into my shoulder.

I have a desire to hold her tighter. To mold her body to mine so she never leaves me, because nothing’s ever felt more right in my life. And I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose her.

Her tears dampen my shirt, and listening to her cry breaks my heart. Her breaths begin to even out, and I say, “I don’t pity you, honey. I’m sad that you’ve had to deal with so much. I just… I see something in you that reminds me of myself. I’ve been alone for a long fuckin’ time, and as much as I try to tell myself that you’d be better off without me, I know that’s not true. And I’m not better off without you. You actually make me give a shit about waking up every morning, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt any sort of purpose.”

She finally lifts her head and grabs a tissue from the end table to wipe her face. “What do you want from me?”

“You. Just you.”

“Why?”

“Why do you keep asking that? Why can’t I just want you because I feel something for you?”

“Because nobody has ever wanted me without something in return,” she whispers. “I’ve never been good enough just by myself.”

“God, Polly. You are so much. I don’t give a shit what some dick face told you in the past. I swear to Christ, I have no ulterior motive.”

A long breath releases from between her full, pink lips. “What about you? You said you saw something in me that you saw in yourself. What did you see?”

Bursts of memories hit me, and I squeeze my eyes shut to try to keep them out. I’ve been trying to keep them out for so damn long. When they do surface, I can’t control the magnitude of emotion that courses through my veins. The debilitating strobes of guilt that hit me in rapid succession. Blinding me and making it so I get dizzy if I move.

The words I shouted at Sophia, the tears streaming down her cheeks as I slammed the door in her face. Everything always comes at once, never a little at a time so that I can process it. The past, even before Sophia, filters in and brings me back to the place that started it all. Answering the door when my father told me not to. The guns. The blood. Screams. My mother pleading. My father… My father dying right along with her.

“Hey. Hey, Erik. Look at me.” Polly’s voice plays in the background, and I fight to push through to get to it, to get to her. Her hand rests on my cheek, and I take a couple of breaths through my nose before I open my eyes. “It’s okay.”

Faster than they ever have before, the demons slither away with her touch. I know they’ll come back because they never leave. But as her eyes are boring into mine, I remember what I saw in her the moment we met.

What in the fuck am I doing? Why do I think it’s a good idea to break through this girl’s walls when I have a shield of my own? I want her for selfish reasons. Because I know she’d take it away. Hell, she’s got me by the balls, and she doesn’t even know it. She already gives me more than I deserve. “If I wasn’t fucking my way to distraction, I was drinking my way to oblivion. I’ve gone without one or the other, but never both… until you. And I’m a selfish bastard, because you get me higher than the two combined, and if you’ll let me, I’ll become so addicted I won’t ever be able to quit you.”

Her other hand is placed on the opposite cheek, and she lifts my head so she’s level with me. “I don’t know if we’re completely terrible for each other or if we’re actually perfect for each other.”

I gently nod. “Maybe a little of both.”

She squirms in my lap, and I watch as she comes to some sort of conclusion. “What if tonight we use each other to just forget it all?”

“Not sure I can only do one night with you.”

“How will we know if we don’t try?”

Jesus. I grab her hips and pull her tighter to me. A little gasp leaves her when she bumps against my hard cock. “You sure?”

“Yes. I need to feel something. I don’t exactly know what, but you make me feel a lot of things, and I want to feel everything with you.”

Angel, devil… which one should I choose? She’s asking, begging, practically. And as fucked up as it is, I know I’m not going to turn her away, because for as much as she thinks she wants this, I know I need it more.

As always, the devil wins. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons why I’m going to hell. “Are you on the pill?”

She bites her lip and nods. “Yeah.”

“Took a test before I started working at Complexity.”

“Me too.”

“So I get to feel you with nothing between us?”

“Yeah.”

My throat rumbles as I press my crotch against her hot center. “You sure?”

Instead of an answer, she pulls my head closer to her and slams her lips down on mine.

Chapter 6

Polly

When his tongue slides against mine, my nails dig into his arms. He grabs the globes of my ass, lifts me up, and carries me over to my bed. He falls with me down to the mattress, his hard body balancing above mine and giving me a comfort I’ve never had because I didn’t know it was out there.

I feel dizzy, deliriously turned on, and I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him even closer. He pushes me deeper into the mattress and grinds his very hard, very large dick against me. My hands fly to his head and tug on his hair, as the ache between my legs tightens.

He rises up a bit and looks down into my eyes. He swivels his hips, making me purr. “Damn, Polls. You’re gonna come already, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” I grit the words out as my eyes begin to roll back.

“Look at me.”

I open my eyes on a gasp as he swivels his hips. “It’s been a while.”

His sexy lips tilt up into a satisfied smirk. Imagining what those lips could do between my legs rocks me to my core, and an orgasm explodes. A really good one, too. A really big one that I wasn’t expecting. Not that I didn’t think it’d be amazing with him, just that it was embarrassingly quick. But if all I have is one night, then I’m going to take everything I can.

The way his jaw loosens and his chest heaves makes the high that much better. As I’m still coming down, he reaches for my t-shirt, pushes it up, and grabs both of my breasts over my plain black bra. His large hands knead them and then pinch my nipples through the material.

“Shit,” I say, panting. He tugs at my jeans, and I lift my hips to help get them off. Just as I reach for my panties, he rips them in half.

My hands frantically yank at his shirt, and he helps my shaky fingers by pulling it off. Then in one swift motion, he pushes his jeans down. Something about him leaving his boots on and his pants around his ankles practically gives me another orgasm.

He kneels on the bed and inches forward, grabbing my ankles and throwing my legs apart. When the tip of his dick touches my clit, I grab the sheets. He uses one hand and taps the head there again and again, then slides two of his fingers inside me. “Oh, my God.”

“You’re so damn tight, Polly. I can’t wait to stretch this out with my cock.” He pumps his fingers in and out, each time harder and faster than the last. “Come for me again. I want to slide inside you when you’re still coming and feel how much tighter you can get. I want you dripping when I fuck you.”

An incomprehensible noise bursts out of my throat, and he leans over me a bit, my clit dying for attention without him there. His eyes, glazed over, meet mine. Another smirk plays on his lips, and he says, “Come for me.” Then he pinches the hood of my clit and presses down in a very hard, very slow circle as his fingers curl inside me, eliciting a sensation I’ve never felt before and making stars dance in front of my eyes.

My entire body is buzzing, and I’m flying so damn high that I don’t even notice when he takes his hand away. But when he slides into me, hard and thick, I can barely catch my breath.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He slides his hands down my legs, grasps my calves and wraps them around his back. Then his hands slide back up, past my hips and over my stomach. When they reach my bra, he pushes the cups up and toys with each breast. “You good?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“That’s great fuckin’ news.” I squeeze my legs around him, but that’s where my control ends. As he’s thrusting in and out so, so good, he grabs my wrists in one hand and holds them over my head. His other hand is all over me. Under me kneading my butt, between my legs rubbing my clit, and then finally, he inches his way up to my mouth. He rubs his thumb along my lips, and I open, wanting him inside me any way I can get. He slides it against my tongue, I suck my juices off, and we both groan as ecstasy engulfs us, taking me somewhere between euphoria and heaven.

A string of curse words leaves his mouth and then his big frame collapses on top of mine, but he supports his weight somehow, because I’m not smooshed. After a few minutes of collecting ourselves, I start to move beneath him a bit, and he takes the hint and rolls off me.

“Where are you going?” Damn. His voice is even sexier now.

“I need to clean up.” Hopefully, he’ll get dressed and leave, so we don’t have to deal with any awkwardness. Taking my time in the bathroom, I wet a washcloth and take care of business, then brush my teeth and grab a robe from the hook on the wall. When I open the door, he’s still on my bed. I also see his jeans and boots in a pile. They were on him the entire time we were having sex, so what the hell is he doing?

I walk across the small studio apartment and get a drink of water, then fill a glass for him. His head is propped on a pillow, and he’s lying on my bed in a pair of gray boxer briefs and nothing else. As I approach, he turns his head and opens his eyes. If I wasn’t going commando right now, his smile would melt my panties right off.

“Come here.” He holds out his arms, and I sit on the bed, unsure of what exactly he’s asking. After drinking the water, he sets his glass on the floor, wraps an arm around me, and pulls me down. I squeal in alarm and drop my water on the bed. The glass doesn’t break, but the water soaks the sheets. Well, wetter than they were. He quickly moves the glass to the floor next to his. “That was incredibly fuckin’ amazing.” His lips trail soft kisses on the back of my neck, and I stiffen at his words. He must sense my hesitation, because he pauses and rolls me so I’m on my back. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

“What was that?” he asks again. It’s kind of uncanny how he’s able to read me so well.

“Nothing.” I blow some hair off my face. “I just don’t know what you want me to say.” I thought it would be one and done for him.

He raises an eyebrow, and it makes him even sexier. Damn him. “Erik, that was the best sex I’ve ever had. Erik, you rocked my world. Erik, I’ll never be the same.”

I laugh and give him a girly slap. “Shut up.”

One of his arms is propped, holding his head up while he lies on his side. He reaches across me with the other and slides his finger between the lapels of my robe, between my breasts, and down to my belly button. My breath hitches.

“You’re so beautiful, Polly.” With deft fingers, he unties the knot and pushes it open all the way. Goose bumps cover my skin where the material was, and he leans over and presses a kiss on my hip. He slides his tongue all the way over and repeats his kiss on the other side. I cross my ankles and rub my thighs together, the need he causes slowly building again. “How many times do you think I can make you come right now?”

Before I get the chance to answer, he climbs off the bed, takes off his underwear, and then nips and kisses his way up from my ankle to the top of my thigh. When he gets there, he goes back down and does the same to the other leg. His mouth finally closes over me, and my hips shoot up. He pushes them back down to the bed and circles my hypersensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. “Stay still, baby. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

I don’t know what it is… if it’s what he says or what he makes me feel or a combination of it, but suddenly, emotion rises, and as much as I try to tone it down, I can’t. Tears roll out of my eyes, and as I clench my stomach to try to even out my breathing, he slides a finger inside me, and I come undone. Burst wide open. My voice cracks when I say his name, and his head whips up from between my legs.

“What’s the matter?” He crawls up so his face is over mine, but I shake my head.

“Nothing.”

“You’re crying.” His brows come together, and he wipes my cheeks with his thumbs.

The movement makes his hardness bump against me, and I watch in fascination as his features fight to display how turned on he is. I wrap my legs around his back and pull him closer. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to be inside you when you’re crying.”

“They’re… They’re happy tears.”

He looks even more confused now, and I gather myself to try to explain. “Nobody’s ever… I’ve never felt this, and I thought you’d be gone when I came out of the bathroom and I… I—”

“It’ll be okay. We’ll be all right, Polls.” He silences my babbling with his lips then rests his forehead on mine. Without missing a beat, he sinks into me, and my back arches as every inch gives more pleasure than the last. My tears have all dried up, and in their place is a fire burning bright for a man who brings me more than just pleasure.

With his eyes on mine, he watches my face as he makes love to me. Slow. Gentle. Beautiful. His lips fuse with mine, and he rolls us over so I’m on top while keeping our connection. I sit up with the intent to move along with the furious rhythm of my heart, but he intertwines our fingers and pulls me down so our faces are close. “Slow, baby.”

I rock back and forth and side to side. I circle my hips, and I raise and lower myself. My thighs burn, but the ache between them is what’s more intense, and as I’m about to hit another peak, his words throw me over the edge. “Take me with you, Polly.”

* * *

Erik has thrown his arm over my stomach, and I stare at the ceiling. I had no clue, no freaking idea, that sex could be that good. Part of it was probably all the intimacy we shared right before he slid into me. I’ve never had someone make love to me. Never had somebody care if it was good for me. I’d crave it but was never fully satisfied, not like this.

Throughout my life, I never thought about the future. I only focused on today and maybe tomorrow. I didn’t think there was any hope for me. But right now, I’m fighting everything inside me that’s screaming this can’t happen.

Erik is a good man. He’s perfect in every sense of the word, and I don’t deserve someone like him. And no, I’m not being a martyr; I’m being realistic. I have no family. My past is something out of a made-for-TV movie. I don’t even know how to have a relationship. Dating is not something I know and not something I’d be good at. Besides, I need to focus on keeping my head above water and relying on myself. I can’t rely on a man again. I can’t do it anymore. No matter how much I want to.

Years ago, I’d be all over Erik. I’d jump at the chance to be with him and relish in the attention he threw my way. I’d tell myself that he loved me and I’d try to be who I thought he wanted me to be. I’d do anything just to have someone tell me they loved me. But I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m not that insecure anymore.

The old me was so desperate for someone to love me that I disregarded every single red flag and warning sign that hit me in the face. Like when Richard took me to his house from the hospital. There were so many flags they should have blinded me. But instead, I was in denial. How fucked up is that? So desperate that I lived with a diagnosed psychopath and didn’t even realize it.

And I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I’m smart enough to realize I shouldn’t base a relationship on what I had with Richard. Or the men before him. That I know. But that’s also what makes me so jaded for the affection Erik is offering me right now.

My lids finally become heavy, and I know I need to try to get some sleep. Otherwise, I’ll be dead on my feet at the diner. I close my eyes, and I swear only four minutes have gone by when Erik wakes me up.

“Your alarm is going off, Polly,” he whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek.

“No way. I just fell asleep.” I groan and reach for my alarm clock on the nightstand then slap my hand around until I hit it enough to stop the beeping.

I grab a pillow and hold it over my head. Through the material, I hear him laugh. The bed moves a tad, and the slapping of his feet on the old wood floor fades and then the bathroom door closes. I quickly whip the covers off me, hop down, then grab my robe and put it on.

My legs are stubbly, and I never washed my makeup off last night. I desperately need to brush my teeth and take a shower, but he’s in there. I dig through my dresser, grab some clean clothes, and walk toward the bathroom when the toilet flushes.

He comes out, and I pick at the hem of my robe to avoid looking at him. It’s not fair that he looks so good in the morning. As I pass him, he grabs my arm, pulls me to him, then kisses my forehead. I duck my head again, but he stops me and turns my body so I’m facing him. His thumb hooks beneath my chin, pushing it up so I’m looking at him.

When I finally meet his eyes, he says, “Morning, baby.”

Maybe it’s because I’m twenty-eight years old and have never had anybody call me a term of endearment. ‘Damn, bitch, you know how to suck’ doesn’t count. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had anybody look at me the way he is right now. But more than likely, it’s because all the bad shit, dirt, and pain aside, him saying that to me is the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me. And not because of the words but because of the sincerity in his delivery.

I lick my lips and try to say something, but he’s rendered me speechless. Warmth rises from by belly and my face heats up as my eyes begin to burn. He watches, sees it all. Just like the very first time we ran into each other. He sees me.

“I know,” he whispers.

Because I’m a moron, I turn and walk to the bathroom then shut and lock the door. My back hits the wood, and I take deep breaths to calm myself. Or at least try to. After a long, hot shower, I feel a little better. A little more back to normal.

My hair is still damp, so I put it up in a bun before I exit the bathroom. Erik is leaning against the wall with his leg bent at the knee and his phone in his hand. If I said I didn’t like him in my space, I’d be lying. He lifts his head and gives me a weird look.

“What?”

“I would make something to eat, but you have like no food in your house.” He pushes off the wall.

“Yeah. I, uh, I need to go shopping.”

“What do you normally eat for breakfast?” His feet bring him closer.

“I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

“Okay.” He shakes his head and stops a foot away. “What do you eat at night?”

For some reason, I try to think of a lie, but nothing comes to me. I don’t want him to know the embarrassing truth, or truths. Somehow, I know he’ll try to fix it, and I don’t need him to. I need to learn to survive on my own, and part of that is learning how to cook. I don’t know how to now, but I plan to learn at some point.

“Polly.” He practically growls my name.

“I need to go to work.” It’s early, but it’s an excuse to get out of here. I walk past him and grab my purse, but then pause at the door, remembering I don’t have a car. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He opens the door for me. “I’ll give you a ride.”

After locking the doors, we walk down the street to his car. As we drive away, he reaches for my hand as though it’s second nature, and I understand because I feel the same way. I want to say something, but I know if I open my mouth, I’ll ruin the moment. When he turns the wrong way, I end up doing just that.

“The restaurant is the other way.”

He ignores me, pulls into the parking lot of a breakfast place, and shuts the engine off.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to eat.” He takes the keys out of the ignition, slams his door after he gets out, and then walks around to my side. When he opens my door, I don’t move. “Come on, babe. It’ll take twenty minutes to get you fed, and then I’ll drop you off at the diner.”

“I’m not hungry, and I need to go to work. You can drop me off then come back if you’re hungry.”

“Polly, don’t.” He crouches down and puts his hands on my thigh. “You need to eat. I know I’m starving. I mean, I’m not complaining about what I ate instead of my usual snack, but…”

I can’t help but laugh even though I’m irritated with him for assuming I wanted to come here. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“But you’re even more beautiful when you laugh.”

“Erik.” I turn to him. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you want me to.”

The truth is hard to swallow, but I manage to push it down and shake my head. “No. I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit. When was the last time you ate something?”

“What difference does it make?”

He sighs. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I care about you, all right? I don’t think my taking you to breakfast is the end of the world.”

He’s right, but if I give in, he’s going to think that I’ll do whatever he says. And I promised… promised myself that I would never let a guy tell me what to do again. I’ve done nothing but be pushed around and treated like an accessory. I had control of one thing, and one thing only my entire adult life, and I just gave it all to him last night. I handed over my damn heart.

But I really am hungry, though. Besides, after today, he’s not going to want to do this again. This is just an obligatory walk—no, drive—of shame that’s ending with food.

“If you don’t have the money for groceries, I’ll happily take you shopping.”

And there goes my pride. And my feelings. Without any more words, I undo my buckle and push past him, stomping to the restaurant. How dare he? How dare he think I can’t afford food? I can afford it. I can buy food if I want to. I’ll buy his damn breakfast just to prove it.

“Polly, wait,” he calls from behind me, and I whip around.

“What? Want to insult me more? Lay it on, Erik. What else? My boobs ain’t big enough? My apartment too small? My clothes not the right brand?”

In his defense, he looks surprised. “I didn’t mean to insult you. Honestly, you think that?”

I cross my arms and then toss them in the air, undecided on what I’m feeling. “Whatever.” When I reach the door, I push it open and go right to a booth without waiting for the hostess to seat me. He comes in after me and sits next to me, leaning closer and crowding me into the corner.

“I’d never hurt you or insult you, so I don’t know what the hell kind of shit you’re trying to pull—”

“I’m not pulling any shit. You’re implying that I’m so pathetic and broke that I can’t even afford to buy food. I can afford it. I can buy my own damn food. Just because you”—I point at him—“had sex with me, doesn’t mean I should let you order me around and treat me like I’m some kind of fucking whore.” As the words leave my mouth, I let the despair behind them slither out, too. And just like I knew he would, he recognizes it… The humiliation. The shame. Somehow, his eyes soften while his jaw hardens.

Before he can mutter a word, I push him and try to get out of the booth. My lungs are tightening and dots blur my vision. “Move. I need to get out of here.” I shove him again, but he doesn’t budge, so I somehow manage to squeeze between him and the booth. Without trying to make too big of a scene, I leave the restaurant and reach Erik’s car.

He’s right behind me though, and I know if I get in that car with him, he’s going to demand something I don’t want to give. So I run.

Chapter 7

Erik

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath as I take off to catch her. She’s fast, I’ll give her that, but I’m faster. By the time I reach her, we’re halfway down the block already. I wrap both of my arms around her and lift her off the ground. Her feet continue kicking, and she connects with my shins. “Stop.”

“Let me go.” She grunts as she tries to twist out of my arms.

“Never.”

“Erik, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I walk us a couple of steps back and sit on a bench by the bus stop, setting her next to me. She stays put and catches her breath while I try to process the past few minutes again. Because the first time I heard her say it, I really don’t think I heard her clearly.

“I’m not the person you think I am, Erik. I’m not broke. I’m not pathetic. I’m not weak.”

“I never once said those words, so don’t try to twist anything to make me the bad guy.” I turn and look at her profile.

Her knee bounces, and she squeezes her dainty hands into fists on her lap, but she doesn’t say anything. The mask she’s suddenly put on makes her look like a completely different person. I don’t like it. I’m just about to say something, even though I don’t know what, when she stands.

“I really need to get to work.”

“Polly, I—”

“Please don’t. Can you take me to the diner? Otherwise, I’ll walk. I really need to go.”

My head rises, and when I catch her eyes, it tears me apart. Gone is the loving, funny woman I spent the night with, and in her place is a woman defeated and sad… so fucking sad. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll take you.”

We walk back to my car, and she gets into her seat before I even have a chance to open her door. There are so many things I want to say. So many questions I want to ask. A million different ways I need to show her how much I’ve come to care about her in the months I’ve known her. But she’s crossed her legs and arms, and turned her entire body so her back is facing me. She couldn’t shut herself off more to me if she tried.

I know what it’s like when somebody pushes, when they try to get you to talk when you’re not ready, or when the last thing you want is to share how desperate you are. How pathetic you’ve become. How low you’d go. So even though I want to, I don’t say anything or ask the questions burning on my tongue. I pull up to the curb in front of The Lunchbox, and she hops out and walks inside without a second glance.

I don’t have to work at Complexity today. I thought about going back to Cali for a couple of days, but after a quick check in at the office, I tell the guys not to expect me for a while. They’re used to me being sporadic. As long as the work I need to do gets done, they have no reason to care. My focus hasn’t even been on The Firm lately, anyway.

I do need to go to the gym, though. I need to hit something. Beat the shit out of an inanimate object until I’m so worn out, the only thing I can think about is how sore my muscles are.

After a quick stop at home to change, I drive across town to the gym. I’ve spent more hours in here than anywhere else since I’ve been back. The parking lot is relatively empty, which is good. The old warehouse door creaks as I open it, and then slams shut behind me. I walk over to the lockers on the far wall, find mine, and turn the dial on the lock. Once I toss my keys inside and grab my wraps, I head over to the treadmill.

As I’m slowly jogging, I wrap the cotton around my hands then speed up for a few minutes before I head over to the bag. The first hit is always the best. It’s the one where you remember how good it makes you feel.

In virtually no time at all, I’m sweating and taking out every ounce of aggression. My mind is a clusterfuck, but my movements are crisp. Precise.

Polly’s words replay, and it fuels me to go even harder. The fact that the word whore even came out of her pretty mouth is enough to make me see red. It gives me a reason to do this instead of drink. Gives me purpose for the first time in a really long time, in more than a professional capacity.

Nobody knows how low I’ve gone. How deep I’ve let myself sink. How bad it truly got. It’s bad enough that I’m weak in private; there’s no way I’d let anybody see me at the worst.

Aside from my parents, I’ve already let one girl down. My selfishness and apprehension cost Sophia her life. When I was left alone after she was gone, I couldn’t care less about what happened to me. Hell, I wanted to go with her. I prayed to switch places with her and cursed a God I’d stopped believing in a long time ago that he’d show me mercy and just end it.

Part of me, whatever was left, died with Sophia that night. And until Polly ran into me outside Complexity, I never thought I’d get it back. Didn’t think I deserved to get it back. But one look at her, one touch, and I knew I was given a second, a third chance I didn’t earn.

My lungs burn, so I slow to a stop and get a drink from the water fountain. After catching my breath for a moment, I walk back to the bag and continue taking out my frustration.

The alarm I set earlier on my phone goes off, and I take a few minutes to cool down before I hop in the shower and change. On my way out the door, I eat a protein bar I grabbed from my locker and then leave to go get Polly. I made sure to check the closing time when I dropped her off today.

It’s not too far of a drive but long enough to give me time to think. To realize how deep she already is. To know that something happened to her in the past that’s made her feel like people, men, only want to use her, is devastating. It’s infuriating. Even if I set aside the fact that I really, truly care for her… as a man, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing she was alone and I hadn’t done everything in my power to make sure she was safe.

So even though she’s trying to push me away, I’ll give her the space she wants while offering the security she needs until she realizes I’m not going anywhere.

I wouldn’t put it past her to try to sneak out the back or something, so I park and go inside the restaurant. When I get inside, one man is sitting in the corner sipping coffee. Polly is on the other side filling a napkin holder.

She walks over to me and crosses her arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Giving you a ride home.”

“I don’t need one.”

I shake my head. “I’ll wait.”

As I walk over to an open table, she grabs my arm. “Erik.” I pause, and she rounds me. “Please. I really don’t need a ride. I can walk. It’s not far, and I don’t want—”

“All due respect, babe, but I don’t care what you want. I’m here, which means you’re not alone, so get used to it.”

She squints her eyes at me, which does little to hide the confusion in them, then huffs and storms away. Before I sit down, I glance over at the man drinking coffee. He stands and with his cane and wobbles over to me. “Erik Anderson?”

I shake his hand. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, I’ll be. I’m Reginald, old friend of your grandparents. Knew your daddy when he was a boy, too. Terrible how he passed.” He places a shaky hand on the table and sits down. “I haven’t seen you since your grandma went to be with the Lord.”

Hearing the words from a complete stranger reminds me just how alone I am. My grandma passed shortly after I moved in with them and then my grandpa followed a few short years later. He was a grumpy old man who was miserable without his wife and hated me living with him. He didn’t actually kick me out and I wasn’t technically homeless, but I might as well have been. So after Grandma died, I essentially lived at Smith and Sophia’s house. His parents took me in whenever I wanted to stay and joked that I was the son they always wanted.

My throat burns as I swallow, but I try to steer the conversation in a direction I can at least manage to discuss. “How did you know her?” I ask, as I sit across from him.

“Ah, I used to work with your granddaddy a long time ago.”

“Hmm.” I tap my thumb on the table to distract me from the pit forming in my stomach. In any other situation, I’d leave to avoid talking about my past. I’d drink until I couldn’t function enough to remember. I’d take a protection job that would keep me too busy to think about anything else. But if I do any of those, I won’t be able to look out for Polly. That thought alone is enough to shift thoughts from my usual crutch to something else.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

He pulls a handkerchief out of the front pocket of his flannel and wipes his nose. “What are you doing for work these days? Surprised to see you in town. Thought you’d be takin’ after your fath—”

And now’s about the time I’ve gotta save myself. Part of the reason I come here is to avoid the stigma of my parents. Most people don’t recognize me since I didn’t grow up here. “It’s been nice chatting, but I’ve gotta take off, sir.” Just as I get up, Polly emerges from the back room.

I push the door open a little harder than I intended and cross the lot to my car. With a hand on the hood, I lose the battle to hold up my head, and it falls forward. The air coming in through my nose feels like I’m sucking it through a straw, and with every breath, it gets harder and harder to breathe.

I can’t remember the last time someone other than my subconscious brought them up.

“Erik?” Polly’s hand touches my back, and as she rubs small circles on it, my airway opens, and I finally get a lungful of air. It burns as I suck it in, but the pain takes away from the blood red that was starting to blur my vision. When I finally open my eyes, the blur is clearing. The heat from her fingers warms the ice in my veins, bringing me fully back to reality.

My neck twitches before I straighten out. “You ready?” I ask her while digging for my keys.

“Are you okay?” The concern in her voice makes me want to confess the truth. Makes me want to bare myself to her and let her take it all away… but it’s my weight to carry, my mistakes to live with. My pain to endure.

“Let’s go.” I unlock the doors, and she wordlessly walks around and gets in her side as I do mine. Without a fight, thankfully. Once we’re both in and buckled, I steer my Camaro in the direction of her apartment.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” She breaks the silence, but I don’t answer. If I do, I’m not sure what I would say. Too much, probably. Enough to make her realize she’d be better off without me.

Timing is on my side because I pull up to her apartment and get out before she can say anything else. Probably sensing the tension rolling off me, she remains quiet as we walk to her door. I follow her inside, and after checking the locks on her windows, I go to the front door. “Lock this after me. I’ll take you to the diner tomorrow.” She nods, and I close the door behind me, avoiding her eyes the whole time. It’s enough to know she’s disappointed in me; I’m not sure I could handle seeing it on her face.

When I get back outside, movement to my right catches my eye, and I change directions. Instead of going toward the parking lot, I turn around the corner and about half a block down is a familiar man. The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I wait until he’s out of sight before heading back up to Polly’s. She locked the door behind me, so I knock and impatiently wait for her to answer, which she does right away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Pack a bag. You’re staying with me.”

I don’t give her a chance to answer as I walk back into her place.

“Why would I do that?” She closes the door and leans against it. “You’re acting strange.”

“Please.” I pull out a chair in the kitchen and sit then squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Just come stay the night with me.”

“Why?”

“Because that guy who was in the parking lot last night is here again, and I don’t want something to happen to you.”

“I live downtown, Erik. A lot of people linger around.”

“Do they always say shit to you like he did when I was with you?” At her hesitation, I know my answer. “Dammit, Polly,” I snap. “Sorry. I swear, I just want to know you’re safe tonight, okay? I can’t in good conscience leave you alone right now. If you don’t want to come with me, then I’ll just crash here. But I have a guest room you can stay in since I’m sure you don’t want to be with me, and I actually have food in my fridge.” I manage a half smile.

“You’re really worried about him… about me?”

“Yes, I really am.”

With no hesitation, she answers. “Then okay. I’ll pack a bag.”

She makes quick work of it, and in less than five minutes, we’re back in my car and headed to my place. I’m grateful she doesn’t ask any more questions, and so fucking relieved she trusts me enough to do this for her.

The thing about someone who has a shitty past or something they don’t want to share with the world is that they understand. And maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to her in the first place. I see the pain and the fear in her. And she probably sees it in me, too. So she gets it. She understands.

Once I turn down my street, she sits up and looks around. “This is very… domestic. I didn’t think you’d live in suburbia.”

I smirk and continue driving then pull into my driveway. I am in suburbia, but there’s an odd comfort about it that I never thought I’d like.

The garage door rises, and after pulling in, we exit the car. I grab her bag from the trunk and hit the code on the keypad. “It’s two-eight-one-zero-seven.”

“Umm, okay.”

“What is it?”

“Two-eight-seven-one-seven?” She bites her lip, and I shake my head.

“Two-eight-one-zero-seven.”

“Two-eight-one-zero-seven.”

I nod. “Good. Don’t forget it.”

She follows me inside, and I head up the stairs right away. I point at the door on the left. “You can use that bathroom. Towels and all that shit are in the cabinet. Your room is here.” Directly opposite the bathroom, I walk into the spare bedroom. I want to give her the option of being in her own space even though it’s the last thing I want. I don’t know why I have an extra room, but I wish I didn’t so she’d be forced to sleep in my room. After tossing her bag on the floor, I step back into the hallway and point down the hall. “That’s my room. You’re more than welcome to sleep with me, but I understand if you’d rather be alone.” Turning around, we go back down to the kitchen and I grab a frozen lasagna and stick it in the oven.

“That should be done in about an hour and twenty minutes. Make yourself at home. TV, movies, food, booze, whatever.” I get one foot on the steps when she grabs my arm.

“What happened at the diner with that man?”

I pause and turn to her. God, I’m a fool. For so many different reasons. I don’t deserve someone as sweet as she is. Even though she tries to give me attitude, I see the soft side beneath her shell. I can’t offer her anything more than my body… whether it be for pleasure or protection, I really don’t care. But more than that, I’m not allowed the luxury of being happy again. I ruined my happy, and I don’t deserve another chance at one. It doesn’t matter how much I wish I could have it with her. How much I’d love for things to be different.

She, however, doesn’t deserve for me to treat her like this. Short or non-answers to her question aren’t cool. She should be loved and treasured—something I’m just not capable of, no matter how badly I want to be. I’m acting like a dick, but I’m not used to someone asking the tough questions because I’ve done so well at hiding the answers.

But Polly, she’s different. She’s an unanswered prayer. She’s better… so much better than I am. She deserves better. So I give her the answer she deserves to hear. “He knew my grandparents, and it brought up old shit.”

“I’m sorry. It’s always tough when that happens. Someone says something, and it’s like everything you’ve been trying to hide jumps out and attacks you with little machetes.”

“Yeah. Exactly like that.” Like a million tiny cuts slicing away at every depth.

She shifts on her feet and takes my other hand in hers. “I don’t know what’s going on with us.”

“Me either.”

“I said it yesterday, and I’ll say it again. We’re not good for each other.”

I reach up to cup her face with one of my hands. She’s good for me, but I’m no good for her. “I know.”

“But sometimes it feels right.”

“I know.” I kiss her forehead and back up then continue to my room where I close the door behind me. Nerves make my hands shake as I pull out the box from my closet and then grab a couple of bottles before I sit on the end of my bed and twist a cap open.

Just like I knew I would, I hear Sophia’s voice. Begging, pleading with me. Me closing the door in her face then opening a different one and slipping on my parents’ blood. These are the absolute worst memories, the ones that combine my parents and Sophia. Because their memories are what made me such a bastard with Sophia. Getting them both thrown in my face is no less than what I deserve. It’s a vicious cycle that I can’t stop.

It’s been a while… I’ve done good, but I’m about to prove how much of a weak bastard I am. As soon as the burn starts in my chest, I smile, welcoming the pain.

Chapter 8

Polly

The frozen lasagna burned because I was lost in thought. I don’t know what happened at the diner, but for the time I’ve known Erik, I’ve never seen that level of defeat on his normally hard face. I’ve seen him almost every other way. The sharp lines of his jaw softened when he was inside me. The intense gaze that normally bores into me blurred with concern when he thought I was in danger. But his usually confident strides were unsteady as he walked down the hallway to his room.

I hate to admit it, but I was kind of hoping he really would come back to the diner after my shift. The day was going by as normal until he walked in. That was when I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I wanted him to come to me. It seems stupid for me to continue to act like I don’t want him. I’m not denying that; I’m just trying to guard myself, my heart.

My traitorous heart that speeds up when he’s near but slows when he touches me.

I pick off the top section of burned cheese from my slice of lasagna and eat the remaining layers. It’s been a couple of hours since he closed the door to his room, but I’ve heard movement. Since I feel like I’m only here out of obligation and that I’m making him uncomfortable in his own house, I decide to put the lasagna back in the fridge and head up to bed.

After brushing my teeth, I use the bathroom then pad down the hardwood hallway to his room. The water is still running, and it has been for a long time. Like an hour. I knock, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he’s just taking a shower. A long one. Instead of bothering him, I decide to go back to my room and turn in for the night.

Glass shatters from inside his room, and I reflexively reach for the knob and twist it. Surprisingly, it turns beneath my hand, and I push it open. “Erik?” I step inside his room. “Erik?”

With no answer, I begin to get worried and continue toward the attached bathroom. After knocking, my heart rate kicks up with nerves, and I don’t think before opening the door. I come to a screeching halt at what’s before me.

Erik lying in the bath with the water from the showerhead streaming down on him. The shower curtain is half ripped off and hanging limply. His clothes are completely soaked and his body is shivering so aggressively, his head bounces off the porcelain tub. A liquor bottle is shattered on the floor, inches from the bloody hand dangling over the edge.

“Erik!” I rush to him and reach to turn the water off. “Shit.” The freezing cold beads hit my bare arm like pins and needles. I twist the knob, and as the stream shuts off, the silence is eerie. Reaching over him, I grab a towel off the holder on the wall, but on my way down, I slip on some water. My hand is sliced by a shard of glass, and I quickly pull it up to find the clear object sticking out of the palm of my hand.

I yank it out and press the towel to it while trying to absorb some of the moisture from Erik’s ice cold clothes. “Erik, wake up.” I slap his face which only elicits a groan through his bluish lips, but when I try to yank him up, the wound on my hand rips open more, and I drop him, halting any progress I made.

He’s thankfully breathing, and after pressing my uninjured hand to his jugular and feeling the strong throb of the vein, I make a decision. Running out of the room, I rummage through his stuff on the dresser and finally find his phone on the floor. Picking it up, I slide the unlock button across the screen and search through his contacts.

I know Mellie is with Erik’s best friend, and from everything that happened, I remember his name. When I find it, I hit the call button and hold the phone up to my ear. As it begins to ring, I rip the comforter off Erik’s bed and rush to the bathroom. I toss it on top of him and then grab the bathmat and set it on top of the broken glass.

“What’s up, fucker?”

“Smith?”

“Yeah.” His answer is confused.

“This is Polly. I’m, um, I’m at Erik’s house, and he’s in the bathtub passed out. I-I tried to get him out, but he’s too heavy, and he’s freezing cold, and his hand is bloody and—”

“I’m on my way. Are you okay?”

Too much adrenaline is coursing through me to realize how kind the question is. “Yeah, but I don’t know what to do. He’s breathing, and he grunted at me when I slapped his face, but he needs to get out of his clothes, and I’m not strong enough.” My voice cracks, but I swallow the fear and feeling of incompetence as I run through the bathroom and grab more towels from the closet to wrap around his head.

“I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

“Okay.”

I drop the phone into the sink and then sit on the end of the tub, pulling his head onto my lap. With my good hand, I rub the towel over his hair and press my warm face against his cold one. He murmurs something under his breath but nothing that’s intelligible. With another towel, I wrap it around my hand and grab his injured one, pressing them together to stop the bleeding in both.

“Shh. It’s going to be okay.” I kiss his forehead and rock back and forth a little. “We just need to get you out of these clothes and get you warmed up then you’re going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

Five minutes feels like fifty, but Smith charges into the bathroom out of nowhere and makes me jump.

“Jesus Christ.” He looks at Erik, then me, and then back at Erik. Just as he’s about to open his mouth, Mellie rushes in after him. Her eyes fill with tears, and she puts a hand over her mouth.

“Dammit, Erik.”

Smith steps in, and just before he’s close enough to reach him, I warn him, “There’s glass under the mat, but there’s still probably some that I couldn’t cover, so be careful.”

He looks at Erik’s head in my lap then his eyes slide to my hand. “Fuck, how bad is he cut up?”

“I think it stopped or at least slowed down.” I lift my arm and the towel falls off, and the second it does, blood pours out of my cut.

“Oh, my God.” Mellie rushes over and picks up a clean but wet towel from the ground and presses it to my hand. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I carefully stand and set his head on a towel. “I just need help lifting him.”

“You need to go get your hand stitched up. I’ll take care of him,” Smith argues.

“No, I’ll be fine. He—”

“He’s going to kill me if I let you stay. Go.” He nods at Mellie. “Take her to the ER to get looked at. I’ll call you in a bit.”

“No, I don’t want to leave him. He—”

“Trust me, Polly.” Mellie cuts me off. “He’s going to be beating himself up over this, especially since you got hurt because of him… trust me. He’d want you to take care of yourself.”

I don’t like this woman. I despise her even though I don’t know her, because I know what she’s responsible for. But I can push that aside for Erik. Because it’s killing me to see him like this, and I know they’re right. He’s going to be upset with himself.

“I’ll be fine. You can just take me home.”

“Why are you here?” Smith asks, as he whips the comforter off Erik.

“What?”

“Are you here because he wants you to be here and not at your place?”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll be fine at my place.”

“Naaa. Hur…” Erik mumbles, his head rolling back and forth.

Smith pins me with a look, then addresses Mellie, “Take her to get her hand looked at. We’ll figure the rest out from there.”

She nods and kisses his cheek on her way out, then stops and motions at me. “Come on. You’re going to need stitches.”

I press my lips together so I don’t say something bitchy, and I follow her out. The cut is pretty deep, so I know it won’t heal on its own. I grab my purse from the kitchen island and get a glance at the red-stained towel still wrapped around my hand, evidence at how quickly it’s getting darker. She walks out the front door and points at a big ass truck. “Smith drove here, so we get the pleasure of riding in the beast.”

“’Kay.” I look at the door as I close it, and a thought hits me. “How did you guys get in?”

“Smith has a key.”

“Oh.”

Climbing into the truck is a challenge because it’s so high up, but I manage without further injury and buckle up. The ride to the hospital is silent, and awkward tension swarms around us. I breathe a sigh of relief when she pulls up to the hospital, and after parking pretty close, we both get out. “You don’t have to come with me,” I tell her as we meet at the back of the truck.

“It’s okay. Erik would want me to.”

“Well, he’s not here, so you don’t have to pretend to like me. I’ll tell him you stayed.” As I pass her, I think maybe she’ll get back in the truck, but her feet pitter-patter behind me.

She doesn’t say anything else, but I feel her presence behind me as I check in, and then again next to me as I wait. Luckily, I’m only sitting for about twenty minutes before I get called back. As they take my vitals, a billing woman comes in and asks for proof of insurance.

After explaining that I don’t have any and that I will need to be billed, she has me sign a form before I’m taken back to another room. After another twenty minutes, a nurse comes in and looks at my hand. “I’m going to have the next available doctor come in to stitch that up, but we just got a multiple victim car accident, so it might be a while. If a PA is available sooner, one of them will come in.” She smiles sympathetically.

“Okay. I have someone in the waiting room. Can I go tell her that it’ll be a while?”

“Oh, I will. What’s her name?”

After relaying the information, I lie back down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. A knock on the door has me turning my head, and when I see Mellie, I move to sit up.

“Don’t get up. It’s fine,” she insists, as she walks over to the chair.

“You don’t have to be here.”

“I want to.” She sits in the chair and sets her purse in her lap. “There was a crazy guy wandering around, so I figure it’s a little safer in here.”

A laugh bubbles out of my throat and then it turns into a soft cry. The weight of everything decides to crash into me right now. Her words, a crazy guy, resonate with me, and it fucking hurts. It hurts that I was so stupid with Richard. It hurts that even though he was crazy, he was nothing but kind to me. And it fucking hurts that I miss someone I shouldn’t. I toss my arm over my eyes and try to calm down, but my body shakes with each sob.

The bed dips when she sits next to me, and she holds my hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I didn’t know,” I whisper. “I didn’t know, and it was so obvious, but he didn’t take anything from me, and he was the only person who’s ever done that before. I didn’t know.”

She squeezes my hand, and after a few more minutes, I finally sit up, pressing on my wound in the process. “Shit,” I mumble.

“I don’t dislike you, Polly.”

My mascara gets all over my forearm when I wipe my face. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying to you.” She moves over so she’s sitting next to me, and both of our backs are leaning on the wall. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know,” I confess. “But you were kidnapped, and I feel like I should have known or something.”

“Listen. It’s in the past, okay? I don’t want to relive it, and I doubt you want to, either. We can just move on, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, it is. Even thou—”

A doctor walks in to stitch the cut, interrupting our conversation. It’s probably for the best, anyway. We’re both willing to put the past behind us, so hopefully we can move on, especially since our men are best friends.

Wait. Our men? My man… I act like Erik is mine. I don’t have a claim on him.

The sting of the numbing medication is enough to tear my thoughts away from anything other than the project at hand… literally.

After another forty minutes, we walk back to the truck where Mellie calls Smith. I listen to the one-sided conversation and deduce that we’re headed back to Erik’s.

When we arrive, I rush inside, anxious to see how Erik is doing. Smith is just coming out of Erik’s room and motions for me to head back downstairs. “How are you feeling?” he asks, looking at my hand.

“Fine. How is he?”

Smith drops his head and places his hands on his hips. “I haven’t seen him like this in a long time. Did something happen?”

I swallow and recollect the actions of earlier today. I tell him about the man from the diner, and how, ever since then, Erik was acting strange. Explain about Erik coming back to my place and everything that happened since we were back here, which wasn’t much.

“Do you know who the man was?”

“What man? From the diner?”

“Yeah.” When Mellie leans into him, he lifts his arm and wraps it around her shoulders. Like a puzzle, they just fit together.

“An older guy. I don’t know his name.” I plop down on a kitchen chair. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“Is he coherent?” I ask.

“He came around enough to ask about you, but that’s about it. He barfed a couple of times, but now he’s sleeping.”

“Okay. Thanks for coming by.” As I stand and walk toward the stairs, Smith’s voice stops me.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but he’s been through so much, Polly. Stuff you wouldn’t even believe. If you can’t stick around, I’d rather you just leave now.”

I bite my bottom lip and turn to face him. Is that what I want? To go back to my itty-bitty apartment and continue being alone? I thought it was. I was so sure that being alone and independent was a step up from dependency, but the time I’ve spent with Erik has been the best of my life. So I guess if my heart gets clobbered in the process, at least I can say I tried.

Girls like me don’t ever get the opportunity to experience what I have with him. My life isn’t one I thought would ever have a happy ending. I still don’t know if it will. But once I was kicked out of the group home at eighteen, I tried to make it happen. It’s been almost a decade of trying, and this is the closest I’ve come. So when I answer him, all the confusion I’ve been feeling and all the uncertainty is long gone. I want this. I want Erik. “I’m staying.”

Chapter 9

Erik

“Erik, I’m pregnant.”

My mouth falls open, and instead of being happy, I’m nothing but angry. I don’t want this. Sophia senses my hesitation, and the innocent smile on her face fades.

“Erik?”

“How far along are you?”

Her hands instinctively cross her belly. “Why?”

“Can you still get rid of it?”

She shakes her head as she begins walking away. “I can’t believe you’d ask that.”

I stand from my position on the couch and point my finger at her. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you; I’ve never lied to you.”

“You said you were on birth control.”

My accusations make her sadness morph into anger. “Fuck you. You think I trapped you?”

Instead of answering, I shrug. I know she didn’t. I know this wasn’t planned, but I can’t help feeling upset that this ruins everything. A baby ruins it; it makes it worse. I can’t be a father.

“I can’t believe you.” She turns heel and slams the door behind her.

It takes about three seconds for me to realize what a fucking asshole I am. I get outside just in time to see her pull out of the driveway. I rush back inside and grab my keys and then I race to her house. I break every traffic law and end up getting there the same time she does. She notices me and begins jogging to the front porch, but I intercept her and pull her to me.

She doesn’t struggle because she knows it’s pointless. “I didn’t mean it.”

Her arms wrap around me loosely, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m a fucking bastard, Soph. I’m sorry. You know how much I love you; you know I’d never… God, I can’t believe I asked you that.”

“Me either.”

“I just—”

“I know. I know what you just.” She sighs. “But when are you going to get over that, E? When are you going to realize that I love you for who you are and not for what you think you didn’t do for your dad? You aren’t him, and it’s not your fault.”

My lips find their way to the top of her head, and I hold them there for a second. She’s right. I’m not my father, and I know this. Logically, I understand that. But knowing that the façade he put on for everyone was so fake is sickening. We all thought he was so strong and such a hero. But it turns out he was nothing but a coward.

“What the hell is going on?” Smith’s voice makes us both jump a little.

I step back from Sophia, and when Smith sees her red eyes, he glares at me. He doesn’t know. Has no clue about us. He would not take too kindly to me tainting his baby sister. Soph and I fight about this constantly. She disagrees, but when she threatens to tell her family about us, I always change her mind somehow. I hold her off just a little while longer.

Well, blackmail is more like it. Like the asshole I am, I say if she tells, I won’t stay with her. It’s a vicious cycle, our relationship. Half the time when we get into this argument, she tells me to fuck off and leaves me, and the other half, she cries in my arms and begs me to stay with her.

She knows why I don’t want them to know. And although I think she’s placating me until I change my mind, I will never be good enough for her. And because her family knows that, they’ll tell her so. And because I know her, she’ll stay with me just to prove them wrong, and I don’t want that. I don’t want her to be with me because it’s a challenge. She needs to be with a man who’s deserving of her love. So until she realizes that and finds somebody else, I’ll take whatever I can get from her as long as nobody else knows.

Her hands cross around her stomach again, and before she can open her mouth and say anything, I tell Smith, “She and her asshole boyfriend got into a fight.”

“Need me to go kick his ass?” he asks.

“No.” Sophia shakes her head. “He’s already beating himself up enough for the things he said to me. I know he never meant to hurt me.”

“When am I going to meet this fucker? I don’t care if he realizes how much he fucked up, he needs to not do it in the first place.” The protective side of Smith comes out in full force. He adores his twin sister and has always been this way with her, so it doesn’t faze me.

“When I’m sure it’s going to last.” Soph sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “He’s afraid to commit because he’s insecure about his micropenis, even though I told him it’s not the size of his boat but the size of his heart that hooked me.”

She flutters her lashes at me, and I sputter and choke on a laugh, promising with my eyes to punish her for that later. Micropenis. What a little brat.

“Jesus.” Smith laughs uncomfortably, probably feeling sorry for the guy, even though it’s all a damn lie. Once he clears his throat, he assesses me. “Still doesn’t explain why you had your hands on her.”

“He was just comforting me.” She offers a weak smile in reassurance to her brother. “I need to go.”

“Where are you headed off to? You sure you’re okay to drive? You seem really upset.”

“Promise. I’m heading over to his house since he apologized to me.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind and need me to talk to him, gimme a call.” Smith hugs his sister, and we both watch her drive away. Once she’s out of sight, he asks, “What are you doing here?”

I hope he doesn’t see the panic on my face as I try to come up with a lie. “You told me you were coming home for the weekend. Thought we’d hang out.”

“I did?” he asks, as we walk to the front door of his parents’ house. “I don’t remember talking to you about it.”

“Hmm.” I head inside before he can ask any more questions.

By the time I’m able to get away from him and back to my house hours later, she’s waiting for me inside. I open the door, and before it’s even closed, she launches herself at me. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I turn and hold her between the wall and me. “Micropenis?”

She laughs and throws her head back. I take the opportunity to suck on her neck, and when I know there will be a mark, I finally pull back. I might not be good enough for her, but I can do everything in my power to keep other guys away, no matter how fucked up it is.

I can almost feel her in my arms. Can feel her small body pressed against mine and her soft hair beneath my cheek. She squirms, and I grunt when her ass hits my dick. How did I get so lucky to have Sophia forgive me for my shitty attitude when she told me she was pregnant? I should be sleeping alone, not with my girl in my arms.

I press into her, and the spark ignites. Just like always. Just like I know is irreplaceable. She’s only wearing panties, and when I reach to tug them down, my patience snaps and I rip them. Dammit, my head pounds—how much did I drink last night? I’m not too hungover to pass up the opportunity to slide into her, though. The room is still dark, and I know if I try to open my eyes, my head will hurt even worse, so I free myself and lift her leg to gain access using my other senses.

The moment I touch her warm center, I sink inside her and already feel better. The alcohol fog rises, and I take my time feeling her. Each glide is slower than the next. Her tightness squeezes around me, and I pant at her moans and the sensations she elicits. I hold myself inside her for a moment to hold off; otherwise, I’m gonna come already. She wiggles against me, thrusting so I’m even deeper inside her, and I lose control. I slide out and pound back in, over and over, until her nails dig into my forearm tossed over her stomach.

Somehow, she gets even tighter as her legs quiver, and I can’t hold back anymore. “God, Soph.” I empty myself into her, and remain rooted, loving that she likes sleeping with me inside her. That’s the last thought on my mind before I doze back off.

* * *

Why am I naked? I open my eyes, and when the light hits them, it might as well be a fucking sledgehammer. “Fuck.”

After taking a moment, I try again, and though it still hurts, I sit up. When I push on the bed to stand, I wince at the pain in my hand.

Fuck.

I get up and go to take a shower, hoping the water will make me feel semi-human, when I see the ripped shower curtain. This bathroom is trashed, and while I’m still waking up, I don’t put much thought into how it happened, because I know the answer. I binged last night. By the time I make it to the hall bathroom, since mine is unusable, I glance over into the guest room and freeze. Shit. She was here last night.

Polly.

My head falls forward in shame, and I rush through the house trying to find her. Realizing she’s not here, I take a shower as fast as I can, because I smell like puke and have dried blood all down my arm. After I get out, I take a couple of ibuprofen and put some clothes on. Downstairs in the kitchen, I grab a banana and slam a glass of tomato juice—the secret weapon for a hangover. Grabbing a few bottles of water from the fridge, I head to my car. Somehow, I fucked it up with her. I know I did. It’s what I do.

I don’t remember much, which isn’t unusual when I go on a bender. It takes a little time for me to realize I repeated my form of self-torture last night. No matter how many times I try to stop, I always end up curled in the bathtub like a little bitch.

As I’m pulling onto the street, I grab my phone to call her, only realizing she never gave me her number. When I arrive at her place and walk to the bottom door that leads up to her apartment, I pound on the steel and call her name, but she doesn’t answer.

My worry increasing, I jog back to my vehicle and drive to the diner. I head inside, and a woman I’ve seen here before smiles at me. “Hi.”

“Is Polly here?”

“No, she’s running late.” She glances at the clock and then nervously around the diner. “She said she’d be here by one.”

I follow her line of sight and calculate Polly has about a half an hour. “Thanks.” There’s no way I’m going to miss her, so I sit in my car, waiting impatiently to get my hands on her. I have no recollection of last night after I sat on the end of my bed with a bottle of vodka in my hand, and I need to know everything is okay between us.

I don’t know how I got these scrapes on my hand and I have no clue when Polly left. I’m a fucking bastard. I was supposed to make sure she was safe, and I can’t even do that. I was so drunk I don’t even remember going to bed.

Seconds tick by and minutes drag. I’m so busy focusing on the door to the diner that I don’t realize how much time has passed. I finally chance a glance at the clock and see it’s been an hour and forty-five minutes. There’s no way I missed her, so when the door opens and the same girl as before comes out with a paper bag in her hand, I hop out of my car.

I reach her just as she’s about to enter a tattoo shop that’s next door in the small strip mall. “Hey.”

She jumps, but turns, and it’s then that I recognize her as Brad’s partner’s best friend. “Yes?”

“Where’s Polly?” Her eyes widen at my tone, and I hold my hands up. “Rayne, right?” I can’t believe I was so messed up in the head earlier that I didn’t realize who she was.

“Yeah, you’re Erik.”

“Right. Look, I’m just trying to find her.”

She assesses me for a minute, and I can see the lie forming before it even rolls off her tongue. “I don’t know where she is.”

“You said she’d be here by one. It’s almost three o’clock.”

“I, um… I don’t know where she is, okay?”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I don’t mean to shout. Dammit, I couldn’t have done it at a worse time either, because a tatted-up dude pushes through the door and pulls Rayne behind him.

He looks at me, and recognition hits him since we’ve met at Complexity before. “We have a problem here? ’Cause I’m pretty fucking sure I just heard you yelling at my wife.”

“No disrespect, man. I’m sorry, Rayne.” I crane my neck over so I can see her, but then focus back on the guy. “I’m just looking for Polly.”

“I really don’t know where she is.” Rayne steps out from behind the guy. “Vaughn, it’s okay,” she whispers to him, as he pulls her next to him, not trusting her to be close to me. I don’t blame him; I’d do the same thing if I were in his place. “She called in this morning, but said if you came by to tell you she was just running late. She’s never said anything like that before, and she sounded really upset, so I agreed.”

“Motherfucker,” I growl. “Okay. Thanks.”

I don’t say anything else before going back to my car and driving to Polly’s apartment. I don’t see her car, so I drive around town—to the mall and to the movie theater—and punch my steering wheel when I still can’t find her. She’s avoiding me, and I don’t know why. I need to know why.

Deciding to take a chance, I head down the street she used to live on. Sometimes reliving old memories helps put things into perspective, so when I see her car right in front of her old house, I breathe a sigh of relief. I park behind her and get out. When I hit the porch, I peer inside the windows, only to find it abandoned. Foreclosure notices litter the dirty glass. She’s clearly not in there, so I walk down the steps and around the house to check in the back.

I pause when I see her. She’s sitting on the grass in the middle of the yard, her legs crossed and her head hung. The yard isn’t very big, but she looks so small right now. So sad. I call her name, but she doesn’t acknowledge me.

When I get closer, I notice her hand. It’s bandaged, and I know for a fact she didn’t have any injuries when she got to my place yesterday. That means… something happened when I was fucked up. I… No, I’d never hurt her. No. “Polly, baby, what happened to your hand? How’d you get hurt?”

She still doesn’t answer, so I crouch down and put a finger under her chin, tilting her head up. When her vacant eyes meet mine, I know the answer to my own question. Me. I fucking hurt her.

I should apologize. Or grovel. But none of those things will make this right. Begging for her forgiveness won’t help, and promising nothing like this would happen again would be a lie. Failing the woman you’re supposed to be protecting isn’t something new to me. I’ve done it twice before and I knew it would fucking happen again.

The only way I can fix this is to leave. If I’m not in the picture, she won’t be subjected to my stupidity. She won’t have to be with a man who’s incapable of doing the one thing, the only thing, a man needs to provide his woman in order to make her happy. If I can’t make her feel safe when she’s with me—if she can’t fully trust that I’d never let any harm come to her, especially from me—then it’s better to walk away.

So I do. I start heading to my car. I’ll wait until she leaves and follow her home, but once she’s safely inside her apartment, I’ve gotta give her up, no matter how hard it’s going to be.

Chapter 10

Polly

“I’m not an ex-druggie.” By the sound of his feet, my words make him pause. “I know that’s what you think, and I know that’s what reports said, but I’m not.”

My head is still down, my blurry eyes focused on the green grass, but I hear him move closer to me.

“I grew up in foster care, and despite the horror stories and worst-case scenarios, I made it out okay. Yeah, there were grabby hands and some scary nights, but I learned really quickly how to fight them off. For some reason—and I don’t know why—but for some reason, I was one of the lucky ones who escaped unscathed for the most part.”

He sits down next to me but doesn’t touch me.

“When I was eighteen, I was kicked out of the group home with barely more than the clothes on my back. I won’t lie and say it wasn’t tough, but I survived. I fought, and I survived. Being alone is terrifying. Having to be in a constant state of awareness made me so tired, and it was a struggle sometimes to even stay awake.”

“Yeah. I understand that,” he agrees.

“But I was determined to turn my life around, so every time I got a job, I saved the money. I shared a crappy apartment with kids I was in the system with. It was what it was, ya know? I avoided their drugs and their company and kept my head down. I worked multiple jobs—whatever it took to pay the bills. I ate ramen and drank tap water to save money. After three years, I got an Associate of Arts degree and applied for a job at a large marketing company.

“Knowing I’d have to start at the bottom, I put in an open application, hoping they’d accept me for anything. Cleaning, being a coffee bitch; I didn’t care. So when I got called back for an interview, I was ecstatic. The money they were offering was more than I’d ever made before, and I knew I could save enough to finally get my own place in a few months. Halfway through the interview, an older man, probably around forty-five, walked in and dismissed the woman who’d been interviewing me. He sat in front of me just staring.”

Erik curses under his breath, and I finally risk a glance at him. The turbulence in his unique irises shakes me, but I press on.

“He finally smiled at me and offered me a different job. It sounded marvelous. All I had to do was clean for him, and he’d let me live in a room. On top of that, he’d train me so I could get experience in marketing. I think he could tell I wasn’t very well off.”

“He saw that you were vulnerable and fucking took advantage of you,” Erik snaps.

“Not at first. The moment he took me to an upscale apartment building had never been so thrilling. I smiled like a kid in a candy store when he opened the door and I took in the beautiful room… and when he showed me where I’d be sleeping. I always wanted a big bed, and this one was huge.” I swallow at the memory, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

“I remember sitting on the pink bedspread and him coming next to me. He wrapped his arm around me, and although I thought it was weird, he didn’t push more than that. He only said, “You’re safe here, Polly,” and then he left my room. I think part of me was naïve, but the other part of me was just happy to have a safe place to sleep and not worry about scraping enough money together to eat. So I cleaned and trained with him for about six months before it went any further.”

“Goddammit.” Erik’s knuckles turn white from squeezing his hands so hard. I place my bandaged one on top of his, and he loosens his grip.

“I didn’t love him or anything, but I liked him. He was nice to me, and he actually did teach me a lot. I learned more about marketing with him than I did in school.”

The whites of Erik’s eyes become more prominent, and his mouth falls open a tad.

This is the part of the story that’s embarrassing. “He never did anything to me I didn’t want. He treated me like a princess. He made me feel special. He gave me everything I could have ever wanted. But one morning, we were, um, in bed together, and a younger version of Don charged into my room. I screamed, and when he started talking, I had to physically hold my throat to prevent the vomit from rising.”

“Really, Dad?”

Don sits up, his arm still around me. “None of your business, DJ. Get out.”

Ignoring him, he looks at me. “How old are you, sweetie?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Jesus Lord,” he whispers. “You’re a sick old man; she’s even younger than the last one.”

“What?” I gasp.

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Don says to me, loud enough for his son to hear.

“Really? Are you sure you want to go there?”

Don growls. “This is not your concern, son. Get out.”

His head tilts and crosses his arm. “One hour. Otherwise, it won’t be just you I destroy. I’ll take the company, too. I’m sick of this shit.”

After he walks out and slams the door, I can’t help the tears that fall. “What was that?”

“My dick of a son. But he’s right. This is over. It was fun, kitten.”

I don’t have time to ask more questions because he stands and starts getting dressed. When he grabs his wallet out of his pocket and takes out some bills, I shake my head. “No.”

“Fuckin’ kills me, kitten. You were great. I’d have liked to keep you around longer.”

The man I’ve known is suddenly gone. He’s no longer sweet and caring, but a shell—a very hard shell—of himself. “Don.” I say his name… begging, maybe?

He crawls over the bed, kisses me hard, and then folds the money in my hand. “This should be enough to help keep you on your feet for a while. I wish I could say you could come to me if you have any trouble, but I’ll be frank here. Don’t.”

That was the last thing he said to me before he walked out, and I never saw him again.

“It took a good twenty minutes for me to move off the bed. I had no clue what just happened. But it didn’t take long to figure it out. He used me, played me like an instrument. And I was naïve enough to let him.” Looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs. He only stayed the night randomly, talked in hushed conversations, and never took me out. Plus, he was more than double my age. I guess I had daddy issues I didn’t even know about.

“Anyway, long story short, I was smart with the money he gave me and made responsible decisions for a little while.”

When I contemplate how to tell him the next part, I hate how it still hurts so much. “I had no idea what a healthy relationship looked like, so when I met him… I thought he loved me.” I can’t even let his name pass my lips, because of how much I hate the man for what he did to me. “He was so different from Don, and I thought he was teaching me things that a normal couple did together. I thought… I thought it was normal, and it was what people did.

“He was rough, didn’t treat me with much care, but for some reason, I couldn’t get enough of him… and his friends. It wasn’t that many, I swear. It was only—”

“I don’t want a fucking number, Polly.” He snaps the words at me, and the disgust laced through his words is heartbreaking.

“Right. So it got to the point where I thought that I’d die if I wasn’t with him. He made me feel… alive. It was something I’d never experienced before, and I wanted more of it. Whatever it was.”

Erik’s hand on me tightens, and I know I just need to spit it out. “But it wasn’t a connection. It wasn’t hormones. It wasn’t even lust. He was drugging me.”

“What the fuck?”

“Ecstasy. He was dissolving it into my drinks. For months, Erik. He built it up in my system so that when I didn’t have it, I went through withdrawals. Did you know you could become addicted to ecstasy?” I continue before he can answer, “Well, you can. I caught him pouring something into my drink one day, and he beat the shit out of me. Then when I was passed out, he shot me up with something and dumped me in an alley. I think he planned to make me OD, but it wasn’t enough, apparently. That was where Richard found me.

“He brought me to the hospital and stayed by my side. It was awful. I’m not sure if it was from the ecstasy in my system or from all the other shit that asshole used, but I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. But obviously, I didn’t.”

“Thank God for that.” Erik mumbles the words, but I hear them loud and clear.

“You have to understand. Richard was genuinely nice to me. He treated me like a daughter, almost. I had a desire to please him and make him happy so he’d keep me. I actually felt like he cared about me as a person, and that was a great feeling. I had no clue he was so messed up in the head. Anyway, the whole point to this is, through everything I’ve experienced—the men, the disgust I felt every time I looked into the mirror—”

“You were manipulated and… and drugged. You did what you had to do to survive, Polly. That’s not disgusting. Trust me, I know disgust. I know stooping low; I know what it feels like. I fucking get it. You’re not anything less than brave, baby. Don’t think for one second think I could ever look at you as anything different.”

I continue talking as if he hasn’t just said anything. “Half the time I looked in the mirror, I didn’t even know who was looking back. But it was what it was, you know? When you’re alone and have nobody, you just kind of get used to the loneliness and confusion. I didn’t want to ever have another man in my life because my track record so far sucked. It’s really hard to trust anyone when you’ve been used like I have. But when I ran into you outside the bar for the first time, even though it was just a few seconds, I’d never felt safer in my life. Never, Erik. No matter who I was with, no matter where I was living, no matter what—I’d never felt safer than with you.”

“That’s good, baby, but I failed you last night. You’re hurt because of me.”

“No, that didn’t hurt me.”

He swallows and then clears his throat. “How did it happen?”

“I was going to go to bed after I ate the burned lasagna. You were in your room and hadn’t been out, so I figured you were mad at me or something. Your shower was running, and then I heard glass break. I went into your bathroom and you were… The water was so cold, and I was trying to get you out of the tub when I cut myself somehow. It’s no big deal.” I flick my hand in the air.

“It’s a big deal to me. I’m supposed to be the one who looks out for you.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s my job.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Erik.”

His brows draw together, and before he can give me a speech that makes me lose the courage to say it, I blurt it out, “My hand didn’t hurt. It hurt seeing you in so much emotional distress and not knowing why, not knowing how to help. Not having a clue as to what you’ve been through to know if there was a trigger. That hurt.” I pause, preparing my heart to say the words out loud to him. “But what hurt the most was when you called me another woman’s name while you were inside me.”

His mouth falls open completely, and before he can say anything, I hold up my hand. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between us, but this is never going to work if we don’t know everything there is to know about one another. I might have made mistakes in my past, and I’ve definitely been dumb about the choices I’ve had to make, but the one thing I’ve prided myself on is guarding my heart. I was in it for survival, not love. Maybe it’s because I don’t know how to love, or maybe it’s because I haven’t found anyone I care enough about to love. But when you said her name, I realized I was falling for you because it hurt so much to know you were thinking about someone else. I just… If you can’t give me all of you, if you can’t open up and let me in, then we have to end this. Because I might be strong… but you make me feel defenseless.” I swallow and blink back the tears that brim my eyes.

I’ve fought too long and too hard to lose the progress I’ve made because of a man; no matter how much I want nothing more than to cling to him like a second skin. “I’m not judging you based on what happened yesterday because Lord knows I am nowhere near perfect. I know what it feels like to get that high; in my case, I didn’t realize what was happening, but still, I get it. I understand it. But like I’ve said before, we’re probably not good for each other, and unless you’re willing to open up to me like I just did to you, then I need to walk away. I’ve fought so hard to become independent, and I can’t lose that over a guy who’s going to crush me after I’m all in.”

“Polly.” He runs his thumb along my lips.

“Who is she?” I watch as his jaw clamps shut, and it only takes that second to know I’m fighting a losing battle. “You loved her?”

His eyes gloss over, and he nods. “Yeah.”

I lean up and press my lips to his. To make this easier for both of us, I make the decision to get up and walk away. He calls my name but doesn’t come after me. I get into my car and drive away, watching in my mirror the whole time… hoping to see him changing his mind. But he doesn’t.

There isn’t anywhere I want to be right now. I end up stopping at a gas station and filling my tank and buying some chocolate and soda. I don’t really have the money for any of it right now, but I kind of feel as if I deserve it.

Thank God I just had my car fixed, because I drive around for hours. I stop at an antique store and an animal shelter. I contemplate going to the movies by myself, but I don’t want to waste the money on that.

It’s dark out now, and I know I’m doing nothing to help myself by avoiding going home. Don’t know why I’m even avoiding it. I think it’s because I was at Erik’s, spent the night there, and know how it feels to be in his arms.

Oh well, it’s better this way. I’m not completely in love with him yet, I don’t think, so it’ll be easier to let him go and forget about him now. My brain is functioning at a snail’s pace, and when I pull up into my parking spot, I shut the engine off, toss my keys in my purse, and sit in the car for a minute.

After staring at my lap, I finally get out and make my way to the entrance to my place.

“Gimme some money, girl.”

I try to ignore the way the man’s voice startles me, but I can’t avoid looking over to see him. That damn guy gives me the creeps. As I’m standing in front of my door, digging through my purse for my keys, my body begins to lock up in fear.

“Know ya got it, girl.” He comes closer to me, out of the shadows, and the smell of his rancid body wafts through the air.

I’ve ignored him in the past, and he’s gone away, but I’m usually smart enough to have my keys out. But because I was so damn lost in thought, I didn’t even think about it. This is what Erik does to me.

The tips of my fingers brush against the metal of my keys, just as the guy pushes me. “Money!”

I stumble backward and hit my head on the brick wall. He hits and swings frantically, clearly high on some kind of drug. As though he’s hallucinating, he mumbles profanities and incoherent sentences as he chases after me. I try to run back to my car, but he swings some bag. Swaying to avoid it, I trip over my feet and fall to the ground.

He makes his way over to me as I’m crawling backward, lifts his foot, and kicks me in my side. Shit, that hurt. Just before the sole of his boot connects with my head, a bright light shines in my eyes, and I hear my name being called in the distance.

Chapter 11

Erik

My anxiety over finally admitting to myself that I need to tell Polly everything is urgently replaced with a fuckin’ type of fear and violence that is completely foreign to me.

“Polly!” I run over to her before the car is fully in park, and as he’s staggering away, I get a glimpse of the fucker who just kicked her in the fuckin’ head. I lift her into my arms and brush some hair off her face. She winces at the same time as I see the redness of her cheek and the cut right above her eye. I lift her and carry her to my car while scanning the area to make sure he doesn’t come back. Reclining the passenger seat, I set her down gently and strap the seat belt over her before I jog over to my side and get the fuck out of here as fast as I can.

Trying to hold myself together to get her the help she needs, I hold her hand and glance down, noticing blood seep through her bandage. “Are you with me, Polls?”

Her eyes flutter open as she murmurs something and tries to lift her head.

“Shh. Just stay with me. Don’t talk if it hurts. Just need to know you’re with me.”

When I get to the ER, I double park and carefully take her out of her seat. She’s not heavy by any means, but her dead weight is concerning. The second we clear the vehicle, she begins heaving. I lean her over so she doesn’t choke on her puke, and after she’s done, I take her inside.

When the nurse sees the head wound, we’re rushed back, and as much as I don’t want to let her go, I set her on the bed so she can be assessed. My eyes are glued to her, but I back up so the doctor and nurses can take care of her.

“Do you know what happened, sir?”

“Somebody attacked her. Kicked her in the head as I was pulling up, but I’m not sure what else he was able to do before I got there.” A cold rod embeds in my spine, and I shiver. “She threw up outside.”

“Okay. I’m going to ask you to leave the—”

“No.”

The doctor, probably not much older than myself, glances at me and then nods. “We’re going to take her for some tests.”

I nod in acknowledgment and answer what I can as they fire questions at me. I don’t know if she’s allergic to anything, I don’t know if she’s on medication, and I don’t know if she has any major medical history.

There’s so much I don’t know, so much I should know, but I mentally put all that shit away for another time. The blur of figures coming and going out of the room fades away, and I can only see her. So still. So unresponsive. Her lids are pulled back and a light shined in her eyes as someone else cleans the cut above her brow. I hate that she’s in pain, but when she gasps and groans, I breathe a sigh of relief.

She’s rolled out of the room on the bed, and I watch until they take her around the corner. Everything in me becomes numb. The fact that I failed her, failed another woman, plays on repeat in my head. Three of them now. My mom, Sophia, and Polly.

I slide to the floor and hold my head in my hands, beating myself up about how I should have done things differently. When she walked away earlier, I let her. I fucking let her. I sat on the grass in the backyard of her old house for hours as I fought with myself. An internal battle raged, and I finally thought I had an answer. But now I’m not so sure.

Fighting was always something that came naturally to me. Boxing, Jui-Jitsu, wrestling; any and all MMA was always something I excelled at since I was a kid.

Fighting with myself has become the norm, too. I thought I was worthless after my mom, but after Sophia… it wasn’t even a question anymore. There was nothing to fight about.

When I was with her, I was with an angel. She was almost too perfect. I loved her for who she was and what she was becoming. She was my opposite. My light in the dark. The calm to my storm. She was so kind and caring and loving. I’d have taken a bullet to the brain before I’d have said anything bad about her.

But Polly? She’s amazing. Stunning. She’s so damn special and so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her sometimes. She’s my match. When we collide, it’s the perfect storm. We’re perfect together. She’s perfect for me. I might not be that to her, but I want to try. She makes me want to try. And that’s what I decided I would tell her.

I left the yard to go to her. To be with her. I needed to tell her that this staying apart shit is dumb as fuck. We might have our own issues, and we might have to fight to get past all the debris in our way, but once we were clear of it all, it would be worth it.

As I pulled up and in the moments before I got to her, I saw red. Not from anger… I mean, hell yes, I was angry. I was furious, livid. But the red I saw was blood. The copper smell stung my nose as I ran to her; the fear of seeing her body in a puddle like my mom almost made it too hard to go to her, because I didn’t know how bad it would be.

I could have gotten the guy. I know it. And then I would have killed him. I think I’d have broken a few ribs first. Then his nose. I’d have crushed his balls before I stood on his throat and watched the life drain out of him. He’d have to pay for touching her. I couldn’t just snap his neck. No, that would be too easy.

But making sure Polly was okay was more important than chasing his ass. I let her down tonight. I should have been there. I knew, I goddamn well knew it wasn’t safe for her to be there alone, yet because I’m a little bitch, I let her go.

A nurse pushes the door open and continues pulling the bed into the room. I wait until it’s placed against the wall, then I walk over to Polly. Her eyes are hooded but open, and she smiles when she sees me, but then they close right back.

“We’ll be back with the results as soon as we have them,” the nurse tells me as she’s hooking Polly back up to machines.

“How long?”

“Hopefully within the hour. She’s got a concussion but was coherent, so she can rest for a little bit. I’ll come back and check on her shortly.” Stopping at the doorway, she says over her shoulder, “Page us if you need anything; otherwise, we’ll be back with results.”

I wait a few minutes before it’s too much and I have to touch her. The bed squeaks when I sit on the edge of it, but Polly doesn’t stir. I lift her hand in mine and trace over her soft skin, an immediate calm floating through me with barely a touch. “I’m so sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

She looks so peaceful, and I don’t want to wake her, so I shut my trap and just watch her. Plus, I kind of feel like an idiot talking to her while she’s knocked out. My neck loosens as my head falls forward. Without letting go of her hand, I kick my foot out and pull the chair closer to me. Once I angle it, I sit down and rest my head next to her.

A whisper wakes me up, and before I acknowledge that I’m awake, I hear her voice. “Shh. He’s sleeping.”

“Your results are back, and I’m happy to report you have no further damage than the concussion and broken rib.” The doctor’s low voice is loud and clear to me. “I want to keep you for a little while longer just to be on the safe side.”

“How long?”

“Just until morning. Get some rest for a bit. The nurses will be in and out a lot tonight, and I’ll come and check on you when I make my rounds in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

I’m about to raise my head when another voice sounds. “Hey. Glad to see you awake.” The nurse from earlier. “Just need to get some vitals on you. How’s your pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You look a little uncomfortable.”

“I’m good,” Polly snaps. “Sorry. I just don’t want any more drugs.”

“Okay. Your call.” A few things rustle, and I recognize the hollow air being released from the blood pressure cuff.

“Can you grab a blanket for him?” Polly asks.

“Sure thing. He’s your boyfriend?”

My head sways on the bed just a bit when Polly takes a large breath. “I don’t know. It’s complicated, I guess.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, I hope it works out. He seems like a keeper.” I like this lady.

“Why do you say that?”

“The way he looks at you. He’s got those intense eyes, and when he’s watching you, it’s… passionate, I guess.”

Small fingers run through my hair. “I know.”

The nurse’s footsteps fade and then return again. A warm blanket is placed over me, and the footsteps are gone after the door is shut.

Her fingers almost put me back asleep, but I fight the tranquility and sit up. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she whispers.

It kills me to see the bandage above her eye and the resulting bruises. I get up and lean over to kiss her, my hands supporting my weight so none of it goes on her. Light as they can, I press my lips to hers, then to her cheek, and finally on her forehead.

When I step back, she grabs my hand. “Lie with me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

As she scoots over, she tries to hide the wince. I grab the blanket off the chair and after settling on my side, her battered body in my arms, I toss the ugly white cotton over us. The beeping of the monitor would normally annoy me, but right now, it’s assuring me she’s okay. I fight the urge to hold her tighter, closer.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I ask. “The police will show up at some point to get a statement.”

“Not much to tell. It was that guy who’s always lingering around. He caught me off guard, but then you came, thank God, and chased him away.”

I knew that motherfucker was no damn good. I saw the way he was looking at her. “I wish I would have been there so he couldn’t have gotten to you at all. I’m so sorry.”

She snuggles into me, and I avoid touching her ribs as much as I can. In the hallway, I hear muffled voices. Between that and the machines, the even rhythm of the noises begins to pull me under. But then she rolls to her back and turns her head so she’s looking at me. “Tell me about her.”

I stiffen beside her. Is it time? Should I tell her? If I want to try this with her, if I think she’s my absolution, then she deserves to know what she’s getting into. This is why I was coming to her in the first place. But now, I’m not so sure that it’s the right time.

“Polly, I don’t… I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, Erik. You can trust me.”

“I do, baby.”

“Then talk to me.”

When I exhale, I do it knowing that this is my chance. “She was Smith’s sister. His twin.”

“Was?”

“His family was killed in an accident, and the reason Sophia was with them was because of me.” I feel the pain but can hear it in my voice, too. “The reason she’s gone is because I pushed her away.”

“Oh, Erik.”

“I failed her just like I failed you, and I’ve thought about walking away and saving you from me, but I can’t do it. I just fucking can’t.”

“I don’t want you to walk away.”

She might not think that after I finish, so I continue to get it over with. “She… she always saw the good in me even though I tried to convince her I was bad.”

“You’re not bad, Erik.”

“Before Sophia, my parents died when I was fourteen. My father was my hero my whole life. I admired him. I emulated him. He taught me to be a fighter, he taught me how to protect my mom, and I… I couldn’t. I tried so hard. I tried. And I failed.” I swallow through the thickness in my throat and squeeze my eyes closed.

“How?”

“I couldn’t fight them all.”

“Who?”

“The men.”

“What men?”

Rapidly blinking, I gain my composure again. “My dad had left me in charge for an hour. One fucking hour and all I needed to do was make sure she was safe. He asked me over the phone if I was okay to keep her safe until he got home. I told him I was. Told him he could trust me.”

I know I’m not making sense. The two stories are intertwining somehow, and as much as I try to separate them, I can’t. I always associate what happened with Sophia as a direct result of my parents’ deaths.

“They killed my mom in front of me. I watched them do it, and I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t fucking stop them.” I was a teenager, and they were grown men. Still, I could hold my own, but I was no match. None. Outnumbered and without a weapon. Mom and I made dinner together that night, and then we were sitting on the couch, watching a goddamned movie, waiting for my dad to come home, when they came to the door.

“Oh, Erik. You tried the best you could.”

“I knew better. I shouldn’t have answered the damn door, but they’d already made it through security at the gate and I didn’t think. My dad came home shortly after they left. He came home and found his wife—my mother—in a pool of her own blood. He didn’t even look at me, and to this day, I don’t know if he realized I was there or not. He went right to her and dropped to his knees. It wasn’t even a cry when he saw her… He howled.” That sound haunts my dreams, too. My father. Such a strong man, a fucking warrior, and he crumpled. He died right then and there; at that moment, I already knew he was gone.

“Where were you?”

“They broke my arm then tied me to a chair and pistol whipped me unconscious. I woke up bound and gagged in the next room. I could still see, though. I could see it all. Hear it all. I heard her take her last breath, and I heard my dad apologize that he failed her… that I failed to protect her. That their son wasn’t strong enough.” A shaky breath comes through my lips, and I wipe the tears from my eyes. “And then I saw him pull her into his… into his arms. His hands were so steady when he put his gun to his own head and pulled the trigger.”

She gasps at my admission and tries to pull me closer to her. In my almost catatonic state, I’m able to recognize she’s injured, so I don’t move.

“So when I met Sophia months later, and she said she wanted me to be her boyfriend, I told her no. I kept saying no, even when she begged. I wasn’t good enough for her. I was a failure. My father even said so. I’d failed my parents, and I would fail her too… and sure enough, I did. She didn’t listen to me; she made me love her. She goddamned made me, even though I didn’t want to. And she loved me even when I pushed her away. I tried hard to get her to see that she could do better. We fought about her being pregnant, and she finally realized what a piece of shit I was and left. She died that same night because I didn’t go after her. I fucking told her I’d fail her eventually, and it cost her and our baby their lives. It’s my fucking fault. All of it! It’s all my fucking fault!”

“Erik, stop. Stop. It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” I finally pull in a breath and stand, pacing next to the bed. With my hands on my hips, I pause and look out the window. “For years, Polly, years, Soph and I were on and off. Snuck around. She didn’t want to hide it, but I did. I just figured she’d eventually get sick of me pushing her away or find someone better because she deserved better. A sick fucking part of me liked having her to myself, though. I liked that she was a secret and that nobody else knew about us. It gave me something else to concentrate on. I knew for a little while that she was pregnant, and I was trying to come to terms… I swear to Christ I was trying. But that night… the last night I saw her, the last night she was alive, I yelled at her. She died; Smith’s whole family died in a freak accident that night.”

“I’m going to start showing soon, Erik.”

I stand from the couch and go to grab another beer.

She slams the door to the refrigerator and stands in front of it. Even pissed off, she’s hot as hell. “Beer won’t give you the answers.”

“Jesus, Soph. I’m not looking for beer to give me answers. I’m thirsty.” She doesn’t move, so I turn on my heel and go back to the couch empty-handed.

She sits next to me and tucks her legs beneath her butt. “It’s time, big guy.”

“I’m not ready.”

“I’m not either. But we’ve got each other, right? That’s all we need.”

My elbows rest on top of my thighs, and I cradle my head in my hands. “They’re going to be mad. Smith is going to kick my ass.”

“No, he won’t.”

“Yeah, babe, he will. I’m not good enough for y—”

“Will you shut up with the martyr crap?” she snaps at me. “You act like you were supposed to be able to fight off three grown men with guns when you were fourteen years old. I get that it was tragic, but there was nothing you could have done. God, Erik. I love you so much, so much, and I want us to move forward with our life together. But I can’t keep doing this. My God.” The couch squeaks when she stands up. “We’ve been doing this for years. I can’t—”

I cut her off before she can finish the sentence. “Good. It’d probably be better if you just left because you shouldn’t.” Finally lifting my head, I see the pain in her face.

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Shouldn’t do this anymore.”

My girl, my strong girl, wipes away a tear then squares her shoulders at me. “I wasn’t going to say I can’t do this anymore. I was going to say that I can’t wait until you see that you’re perfect for me exactly how you are.”

Fuck.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” she whispers, and covers her mouth.

“What?” I stand and take a step closer to her, but she backs away. “Soph…”

“You’re using that as an excuse. You’re using what happened as an excuse because you really don’t love me. You don’t want this with me.” Her hands protectively rub her belly. “You don’t want us.”

“No. God, no. I want you. Both of you. I thought you’d move on from me eventually and—”

“So all those times you promised that we’d tell were a lie? You were what? Stringing me along until someone better came along for you?”

“Not for me. For you!”

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t… I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“I’m sorry, Soph. Things have changed with the baby. I’m working on changing. I promise I’m trying to be better for you. I do love you, but I’m not good enough for you.”

She shakes her head as she reaches for her keys.

“Don’t leave,” I whisper. All the times I wanted to push her away, and when she really goes to do it, I fold. I want her to stay. I’ve always wanted her to stay. “Don’t leave me.”

“I can’t believe you were never serious about me. About us.”

“I was. I am.”

“You just said you were stringing me along.”

“For your own good, Sophia! But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She screams at me, and I take a step back. “I have given you everything, and you can’t even give me the decency of being honest.”

“I have been.”

“No, you haven’t.” Her voice is still raised.

“I fucking love you!” I yell back. “I tried not to, but I can’t help it. I’m trying to give myself the credit that you do, but I can’t—”

“You won’t! You won’t give yourself the credit, because you think you don’t deserve it. I’ve tried, E, I’ve tried for years to get you to see, but I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

I take a breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I love you, Soph. So much.”

“Then act like it.” She opens the door and takes a step out then pauses with her back to me. “I do love you, but maybe you’re right. Maybe I do deserve better.”

Chapter 12

Polly

He blinks and the wetness is replaced with a wound tore open so big I’m afraid blood will begin pouring from his eyes. The last words he’s heard from the people he loved were telling him the things he says to me. “Come here.”

His long legs bring him to the side of the bed in one stride, and he sits down. I sit up on my knees and wrap my arms around him from behind, pushing through the pain in my side. I rest my chin on his shoulder, and his hands come up to his chest to overlap mine. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“She was the only one who knew.”

“Knew what?”

“What really happened with me. The entire story wasn’t public knowledge. Umm, my mom was Mae Anderson.”

“The movie star?”

“Yeah.” He lifts my hands to his mouth then pries them apart before turning. I sit on my butt, and he turns to face me. “My father was a boxer turned bodyguard. They fell in love and got married. Because I was still a minor, the media wasn’t allowed to report about my injuries, but they were more focused on the story of my parents. They called it the real life Hollywood version of Romeo and Juliet.”

“Erik…” What do I even say?

“My parents did a good job of protecting me from the media and keeping my life normal. To me, they were just Mom and Dad, ya know? My mother’s parents had both already passed, so I came here to live with my dad’s parents. I think I was numb for a little while, but Sophia pushed me, and I eventually told her the details about a year after I moved back here. Smith doesn’t even know everything. Not many people do.”

“And she still wanted to be with you.”

His head falls. “Yeah.”

“And I still want to be with you.” Wordlessly, he moves his head in an acknowledging gesture. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yeah, baby. I do.” Finally looking directly at me, he repeats himself. “I want to be with you. And if I had stayed, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“It’s true, though.” I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off. “I’m using that. I’m using the fact that I was a pussy as ammunition to finally move the hell on.”

“You weren’t a pussy. It makes you stronger to be able to tell me about this. It will make us work, Erik. It’ll help us both heal from our pasts and move on. Together.”

“I just, I don’t—”

“Kiss me,” I demand.

He leans over to me, gently cups my face, and skims his lips across mine. “We’re not good for each other.” His thumb traces across my unbruised cheek and then across my bottom lip. “But we are perfect for each other. And I can’t wait to prove it to you. Because even though I’m not good enough, I know no other motherfucker out there is either. Nobody cares about you more than I do.”

He kisses me again, and just when the tip of his tongue caresses my lips, there’s a knock on the door. “Ms. Madison?”

A man with khakis, a black polo shirt, and a badge around his neck walks in. “I’m Detective Manor. Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions?”

“Sure.” I turn to face him, and Erik sits next to me, an arm wrapped around me in a show of support and comfort.

“Can you tell me what happened tonight?”

“I was walking to the outside door, and some guy started asking for money. I ignored him, and he apparently didn’t like that because he started yelling, and then he grabbed me.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No. I’ve seen him hanging round my place before, but I don’t actually know him.”

“Do you remember any details? What he was wearing, any scars, tattoos?”

“He was in the same thing I’ve seen him in before. Dirty jeans, layers of jackets, and ratty old black boots. I didn’t notice any visible tattoos.”

“Sir.” The detective directs his attention toward Erik. “Could I get your first and last name?”

“Erik Anderson.”

The man whips his head up and studies Erik for a second before he asks the spelling then jots his name down. “Did you see anything?”

“Not much. He ran off as soon as I got there.” The veins in his neck throb. “Shoulda fuckin’ gone after him.”

The detective focuses on Erik for a moment. “No, it’s better that you didn’t. We’ll catch him, and he’ll be punished. Legally.”

Erik doesn’t take too kindly to the implication and opens his mouth to argue, but I grab his thigh. “I’m glad you didn’t; I needed you.”

He leans over and runs the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone.

“Okay, then.” Detective Manor takes out a card and hands it to me. “If you remember anything else or see him lingering around, please call me. I’ll be in touch over the next couple of days after I talk to the owner of the building to see if we can get any security footage.”

“Okay, thank you.”

He walks out and a nurse walks in. Erik gets off the bed and excuses himself from the room. After my vitals are taken, I rest my eyes until I hear Erik’s heavy footsteps. He pushes some hair off my face, and I smile at him before opening my eyes. “Hey. Where’d you go?”

“Hey.” His fingers trace over my cheekbone again before he removes his hand. “Just called Brad and filled him in. He’s going to call Rayne. While you sleep, I’ll go pack up some stuff for you to bring to my place. Is there anything particular you want?”

I feel like I should protest a little bit, but it’s not even worth the effort. I want to be with him. “I don’t have much.” That statement is truer than I like to admit to myself, let alone out loud.

“Okay.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Okay.”

* * *

“I can walk, Erik.” I huff against his chest as he carries me up the stairs.

“I know, but I want to carry you, okay?” He asks, but it’s really not a question. “You need as much rest as you can get, and the less you jostle your ribs, the faster they’ll heal.”

Knowing I won’t win this argument, I nuzzle closer to him and soak up the sporty cologne he wears. He’s been doing this the past couple of days that we’ve been back at his house. When we were driving here from the hospital, he informed me that I was sleeping in his bed every night from here on out.

When we get to the room, he walks through and sets me on the tile floors in the bathroom. I take care of business and leave to find the covers already peeled back on his bed. He holds my hand as I sit down and he helps me get my shirt over my head. On his knees, he takes off my shoes and socks, and after I lie down, he removes my leggings. I’m left to rest in my undies and a cami.

I track him as he walks to the bathroom. When he closes the door, a small crack is still visible, so I twist my neck to get a better view. He reaches behind his neck and pulls his t-shirt off, and as he turns to throw it in the hamper (seriously, he throws his clothes in the hamper), he catches me gawking at him.

Not fazed in the least, he goes to the toilet and lifts up the seat. I laugh as I turn my head, and a few minutes later, he comes out of the bathroom and slides in next to me. With a gentleness I wasn’t aware he possessed, he scoots close to me. His fingertips trace my skin and when he gets to my belly just beneath the hem of my cami, I giggle.

He lifts the material and presses a kiss right next to my navel then scoots back and props his head up on one hand. “You’re gorgeous, Polly. Do you realize that?”

Embarrassed, I steer the topic away from me. “Your mom was gorgeous.”

His face lights up. “She was.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She was amazing. At the end of the day or when she came home from a trip, she always gave me her undivided attention. Well”—he chuckles—“that is, when my dad wasn’t distracting her.” His fingers stop their movement, and he rolls to his back. “I always thought it was so gross how much they were all over each other, but now I know why my dad was like that with her.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I feel it with you. The need to protect, to love, to possess. The feeling that if I’m not touching you, somebody is going to take you away from me. The desire to be inside you every minute of the day even when I’m asleep. I’m tamping down the rage to kill the fucker who put his hands on you. I’m afraid that you’ll wake up one day and realize you’ve settled for a piece of shit like me. And I feel like the luckiest man in the world when you smile at me.”

“I feel the same, ya know?”

“That’s good, baby, ’cause I’ve never come close to feeling what I do for you.” He glances at the bruise on my face. “I’ve got a lot of resentment and anger built up, but I’ve never thought about taking somebody’s life before, and I swear if I get my hands on that fucker, I don’t think I could stop until he wasn’t breathing.”

“That’s really sweet, and a little scary at the same time, that you want to kill somebody.”

“Someone who was going to hurt my woman. Someone who kicked her so hard he broke a rib. Someone who bruised her beautiful face and caused her skin to split open. Yeah, I’d have no problem ending that someone’s life.”

With each word he speaks, his voice gets tighter, and my fear jumps a notch higher. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this.”

Lines crease between his brows, and he tilts his head. “Are you afraid of me?” He doesn’t let me answer. “I’d never, ever hurt you, Polly. You have to know that.”

“I do,” I quickly assure him. “I do know that. But it doesn’t change the fact that hearing you so adamant about murder is a little scary.”

“You asked about my mom and what she was like. Well, as much as I loved her and as perfect as she was, I was closer to my father. I wanted to be him when I grew up. In my eyes, he was a step above a superhero. It’s hard to only remember him as that, though, because sometimes I think he’s the biggest coward for ending his own life. But he fucking loved my mother. He lived to make her happy and to protect her. I saw him take out men who tried to come after her and heard the threats he promised them with. He never went anywhere without a hand on her, and when she was working, his eyes were glued to her.”

“I get that, but she was a celebrity.”

His stubble sounds like sandpaper when he rubs his chin. “Doesn’t matter. She was my father’s wife. He loved her because of who she was, not because of her career choice. But I know that no matter how pissed off he was, he’d never hurt her. Just like I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” I yawn and try to cover it up, but he sees and reaches over to shut the lamp off before he plasters himself next to me. “Night, baby.”

Those are the last words I hear until I can’t breathe anymore. I shoot up in bed and suck in a breath so big my lungs feel like they’ll explode, then I wince at the pain in my side.

“Shit, Polls, you okay?”

“Yeah.” I’m practically panting. “I had a bad dream. I never have bad dreams.”

Erik’s hand caresses my back, and I regain my bearings as he transfers his strength to me. “What was it about?”

“It was confusing. I don’t remember details. But I was running and fell in the parking lot, and that’s what woke me up.”

As my breathing slows down, his speeds up. “Dammit.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, then kiss his cheek. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

He supports my back as I lie down and then settles even closer than before. His lips tickle my neck, and after one final kiss, he rests his head on the pillow next to me. He falls asleep right away, and I stare at the ceiling all night. Now wide awake, I wrestle with my demons and try to keep them away.

Morning comes too fast… or not fast enough, depending on which way you want to look at it. I try to slide out from under Erik’s arm, but the guy’s so damn big it barely budges. When he grinds his morning wood against my thigh, my belly instantly flutters.

“Mornin’, baby.”

I would answer him except his fingers are swirling around my breasts, his thumb grazing over the hardened nipples. Ever so gently, he traces a path down the front of my cami to the hem and then slides his hand beneath the fabric.

My hips flex when he continues going south. So lightly I barely feel it, he runs his talented fingers between my legs, teasing me through the material covering me. He glides the tip of his index finger over and over, applying a little more pressure and then taking it away.

“God, Erik.” I moan and try to press into his hand.

“Shh. Let me play for a bit.” He moves to the end of the bed and instead of spreading my legs, he pushes them together and straddles them. Without another word, he goes back to what he was doing and holy shit, I almost explode with the first touch. The left side of his lips tilts up into a smirk and he watches his finger trace torturous circles.

He uses his other hand to tease me above the waist, tweaking and caressing my nipples. The pressure of my thighs being forced together is driving me insane. I can feel the wetness between my legs soaking my panties. I try to get more from him, but he’s so damn strong I can barely move.

I lose his hand and cry out in protest, but he pinches my nipple, reminding me he’s still there. He leans farther over me then opens a drawer in the nightstand.

When he flicks open a knife, I screech. I know he wouldn’t hurt me, but I still feel a little trepidation. When he resumes his previous position, he removes his fingers from my breast and replaces them with his mouth. A mewl escapes me when he wets the material and then blows on it.

“Jesus, Erik.”

He sits back up and lifts my thong in the front. Slicing it in half with the knife, he exposes my throbbing clit. “That’s what I wanted to see,” he mumbles to himself. A flick of his wrist puts the blade back into the knife then he tosses it on the floor. Still keeping my lower half unmovable, he slides his finger between my folds and gathers some moisture there before he spreads it around on my clit.

“Damn, that’s good.” I fall all the way back on the bed, and as the pressure increases, the buildup that he’s been teasing me with for the past twenty-five minutes finally explodes when he pinches my clit and slides just the tip of his finger inside me.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you come.” He lifts away from me and tosses my legs apart, ridding me of the scrap of fabric, and then slams two fingers inside as I’m still coming down from that orgasm. “Give me another one.” He puts his mouth over me, and it’s almost too intense. I push his head away, and he looks up. “Too much?”

“Yeah, shit.” I have an arm thrown over my eyes, so I don’t see it when he removes his hand and replaces it with his tongue. “Oh, my God.” I sit up to watch because it’s so damn sexy. The pain in my side is non-existent with his mouth on me like this.

With my butt in his hands, he lifts me and holds my folds open as he fucks me with his tongue. “I want you to come on my mouth, baby. Wanna taste it while my tongue is still inside your pretty pussy.”

I don’t think I fully came down from the first orgasm he gave me, so when he dives back in and works his magic, I’m happy to oblige. He moans louder than I do and presses his mouth against me so hard I’m worried he’s not going to be able to breathe. He finally comes up for air, and when he does, his facial hair is glistening from my juices.

My eyes widen at the sight, and I don’t know if it’s sexy or embarrassing. He licks his lips, and I decide it’s sexy. “What the hell was that?” I ask, my body still trembling.

“That’s how I want to wake up every morning.”

He palms his dick, the angry head sticking out from the waistband of his boxer briefs. I motion toward me. “Come here.”

“Nope. You’re still sore. I’m not fucking you yet.”

“Let me.”

“Let you what?”

He’s going to make me say it. “Suck… you.”

“What part of me?” He saunters over, and as he does, he glides his thumb between my folds and then presses it to my mouth. “This part?” He pushes it in, and as I lick off my essence from him, the fire brews in my belly again. It’s like the song of orgasms that doesn’t end. I shake my head and reach out to trace my fingers over his dick. He presses into my hand. “This? You want my cock in your mouth, Polly?”

With a pop, he pulls his thumb out, and I nod. I’m about to sit up, but he tsks me. “Turn your head, baby, and open for me.” I do just that and he slides the tip inside my mouth. Then he pulls out and goes back in a little deeper. He does it again and again until I gag. He slides back and then really fucks my mouth, knowing how much I can take.

I rub my thighs together, and out of nowhere, he gives a little smack to my pussy. I squeak as best as I can with a mouth full of cock. “If you didn’t have enough, I’ll give you more. You just worry about keeping that mouth open for me.”

God, I love how dirty he is. I spread my legs open for him, begging for more. He presses the pad of his hand flat on my mound and teases my opening with the tips of his fingers, rubbing harder and faster as he fucks my mouth the same way.

I moan around him, and he suddenly pulls out. “Stick your tongue out, baby.” Another orgasm rolls through me as he comes on my tongue, half of it dripping onto the floor, the other half I’m able to swallow from the position I’m in. I grab his wrist and flex my hips into his hand and can’t help the shudders rolling through me as I ride the rest of the wave.

He drops to his knees, and I finally release the death grip I have on his arm. After we catch our breaths, he leans over and kisses me before he disappears into the bathroom. A moment later, he returns with a wet cloth. As he’s cleaning me up, I get choked up. The way he makes me feel, both physically and emotionally, and the stresses of the past few days, finally surface. I’ve been trying to avoid it and just pretend it didn’t happen, but I can’t anymore.

When he hears me whimper, he drops the washcloth. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m just… just emotional.”

I roll into him when he lies next to me, sore rib be damned, and let him hold me. I need his reassurance right now, and as I listen to him promise me things I never thought could be possible for a girl like me, I believe him.

* * *

“That’s him.” I nod at the man through the glass and turn to Detective Manor.

“Are you positive? You said in your statement that it was dark.”

“I’m positive. It might have been dark, but I recognize him.” The damn recognition is what’s given me a nightmare three times now. Hopefully, knowing he’s locked up will make them go away.

“Very well, then.”

Erik’s arm around me tightens, and he steers me out of the room. “So what’s next?” I ask Detective Manor as we walk down the hallway.

“I’m going to have you sign a statement before you leave, and that should be the end of it for you. With the other charges we have him on, I don’t believe you’re going to have to testify. But if that changes, I’ll be in touch.”

We follow him to his office and sit while he types up something. Erik’s arm around my shoulder is protective and makes me feel safe even though I’m in a police station. It’s only been a week and a half since I left the hospital, but it seems like yesterday. Through the video surveillance, they pieced together that it was, in fact, the man who’d been hanging around downtown for a while now. It wasn’t hard for them to locate him by the river. Case should be pretty open and shut.

After signing the papers, Erik and I walk out to his car where he drives us back to his place. I go right to the bedroom where I change from my UGGs into a pair of more comfortable shoes.

“What are you doing?” he asks me.

“Getting ready for work.”

“You’re not going to work.”

I finish tying my shoe and stand. Of course, when I do it, I straighten my spine too fast and get a pinch in my sore rib. Unsuccessfully, I hide a wince.

“Exactly, babe.”

“Erik. I’m fine. It’s been a week and a half.”

He puts gentle hands on my shoulders and bends at the knees to be eye level with me. “I know you’re not used to this, but when we agreed to do us, that meant that you agreed to let me look out for you.”

“You can look out for me without telling me what to do.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “How are you supposed to carry a tray?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“No, you won’t. The doctor said it’d be three weeks minimum. It’s been half that. Just rest for another week or so, and then you’ll be good as new, okay?”

It’s embarrassing to admit this, but I do anyway. “I’m on a payment plan with my car repairs, and I’m already behind. I need the money. My rent is due in a week and a half, and my electric bill is sitting on my kitchen counter waiting to be paid.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He ushers me to the edge of the bed where we sit down. “I guess I didn’t make myself clear, and for that, I’m sorry. But when I said I would take care of you, that meant financially, too.”

My pride creeps up, but before it fully envelops my body, he puts a finger over my mouth.

“I’m not saying you’re an invalid or that you’re not capable. What I’m saying is, you don’t need to worry about that kind of stuff anymore. I’ve got more than enough money to last us a lifetime.” He rubs his thumb and pointer finger on his chin as he contemplates something. “Do you want to go back to your apartment?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean to live. I’d really like you to stay here with me, but I understand if you want to keep your own space. Granted, you’ll never sleep there alone, but if you want to keep it, I understand. But I’d really rather just have you live here with me.”

I want to say yes. That I should go back just to assert myself as independent, but that would be a lie. It’s not just because I don’t want to be alone, though; it’s because I want to be with him. I know what I’m capable of now. I know that I can support myself. What more do I have to prove?

When I rest my head on his shoulder, he adjusts his arm around my back so I can lean into him more. “No. I really don’t.”

“Where do you want to be?”

“With you.”

“Good.” He kisses the top of my head. “I want that, too.”

Chapter 13

Erik

“Hi, Erik.”

I nod at Rayne as I walk into The Lunchbox and take my seat at the table by the door. It’s been over a month since Polly’s attack, and we’ve been back at Complexity for a couple of weeks now. I’m glad Brad didn’t give me shit for not working while she was recovering because she comes first, always. So I wouldn’t have thought twice about telling him to go fuck himself. I’ve got so much damn money from my parents’ inheritances that I don’t even know what to do with it. Work isn’t something I’d ever have to do if I didn’t want to.

When my bank statement comes every month, I look at all the zeroes and wish I could trade them in for my family. I’d give anything to have them back. The feeling of isolation sucks, and I think that might be part of the reason Polly and I click so well; we understand what it’s like to be truly alone. And we don’t want to be that anymore. We’re not.

When she works at the restaurant, I drop her off, do some work on my laptop and make some calls to The Firm, and then go work out before picking her up. I’ve gotten back into a routine and have been able to manage everything fine. Being busy is good because I haven’t even thought about or craved alcohol. I won’t deny I had an issue with it, but it was a coping mechanism more than an addiction. I knew if I threw back enough of it, I’d eventually become numb. And the hangovers were a reminder that I deserved to be miserable because I stooped so damn low as to get myself in that position in the first place.

Polly’s probably saved my life and doesn’t even realize it.

I love the time we get to spend after her shift at the diner because it’s so… domesticated. It reminds me of how I grew up. We go back home to eat dinner, usually takeout, and relax a bit if we’re going to Complexity. Otherwise, we just hang at the house, which is totally fine by me. I’d spend every waking moment with her if I could.

“Hey.”

Polly walks to me and leans down to kiss me hello. It’s only been about four and a half hours, but I’ve missed her like crazy. I love how when we’re together she wants to be close, too. It’s not just one-sided. She tells me how she feels, but her actions reassure me that her words are true.

I lick my lips as I pull away, wishing I could get more than just a quick taste. “Hey, beautiful.”

“I’m done. You ready?”

“Yep.” Our fingers automatically link together as we say goodbye to Rayne and walk to the parking lot. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, actually. Not sore at all.” I’m glad to hear that, since tonight is going to be busy as hell.

I open the car door for her, and after she gets in, I walk around to my side. I plop my ass in the leather seat and slide the key into the ignition. As soon as I take off, I rest my hand on her thigh.

“You know that I love you for wanting to be my chauffeur, but I can drive, Erik.”

The logical part of me knows that she didn’t even realize what she just said, but the part of me that’s been a fucked-up mess since she came into my life makes me want to have her say it again and again. I want to have those words come out of her mouth when I’m inside her and before I fall asleep. I want to wake up to her whispering them in my ear. And I want to say them to her because I really do love her. So damn much. But I don’t want to freak her out, so I don’t say it, and I don’t acknowledge that she just said I love you so casually.

“Hear me, baby, when I say that I want to, okay?” Ending my statement, I squeeze her leg. “I’m not the kind of man who’s gonna do something I don’t wanna do. Even with you, Polly. So when I say something, know that every word coming out of my mouth is the truth, all right?”

“Fine.” She sighs. “Can we run to the drug store real quick?”

“Of course.”

I steer us in the direction of the store and am about to ask what she wants to do for dinner when her arm brushes over mine as she turns the radio up. Taking that as my cue I’ve pissed her off somehow, I just keep driving until we arrive. She gets out of the car before I can walk around and open her door for her.

“I’ll be right back; you don’t need to come with.”

My teeth dig into my lip to prevent myself from laughing. This little attitude is cute as fuck, and if she thinks I’m going to be upset, she’s sorely mistaken because it’s making my dick hard. “It’s all good.”

“Honestly, Erik. I can go in by myself.” She stops right as the sliding door opens upon her approach. “I’ll be right out.”

“Not happening.” I put my hand on the small of her back and usher her inside.

I’ve learned a lot of things about myself recently. Mainly, I’m more like my father than I ever realized. In no way, shape or form, do I want to control Polly; I don’t want to tell her what to do, and I certainly don’t want her to think I don’t trust her. What I will do, whether she agrees with it or not, is keep her safe. And it might not seem like a big deal, her going into a store by herself, but what kind of man would I be if I sat in the car waiting for her? If she was stopping without me, it’s not like I’d tell her she can’t go in until I get there, but if I’m with her, I’m going to be with her, not be lazy and make my woman go anywhere alone.

Being in the protection business has left me jaded, too. I might not do a ton of fieldwork anymore, but I grew up with it, and it’s just natural to me.

When she tries to shrug me off, I toss my arm over her shoulder. “What’s with the attitude, Polls? You were sweet as sugar when I picked you up.”

Without answering, she grabs a basket then storms down an aisle and stops in front of a bunch of feminine products. “Yeah, well, I’m forced to be that way at work, but when I’m with you, I can truly be myself, right? So you get this side, too. The moody, roller-coaster ride that my period comes to claim every fucking month by punching me in my freaking ovaries then twisting them before stabbing them with a goddamned ice pick just for good measure.”

Instead of answering, I press my lips together, sensing it’d be better not to say anything at this point. My hand falls from her shoulder, and I tuck it in my pocket and step away while she looks at the boxes. Wordlessly, I follow her through the aisles and watch as she grabs more items. A magazine, nail polish, a bag of cheesy popcorn, and when she begins tossing candy bars into the basket without even stopping as she walks, I can’t help but laugh. Her head whips in my direction, and I look down, rubbing the back of my neck.

When the sound of her feet fading away hits me, I catch up and meet her in the checkout line. As the cashier is ringing up her stuff, I reach for my wallet. “Don’t even think about it,” Polly snaps at me.

“Huh?”

“I can pay for my own stuff.”

Again, figuring it’s best to let this one go, I hold my hands up in surrender, wait until she’s done, and precede her out to the car. I’m glad the drive is only a few minutes, and when we arrive home, she doesn’t even say anything as she walks upstairs.

I grab a bottle of water, sit on the couch, and turn on the TV. After flipping through the channels for twenty minutes and finding nothing appealing, I toss the remote onto the coffee table and get up. Polly still hasn’t come down here, so I go upstairs and tentatively open the door to our bathroom. Ours. Everything is now ours. She’s officially moved in, cancelled her lease, and is mine for good.

She’s in the bath with her head tilted back, resting on the edge of the tub, and her eyes are closed. Seeing her there almost takes my breath away. It hasn’t been that long since she’s lived with me, but her being in my space just feels… right. Natural.

I slip off my shoes, roll up my sleeves, and then sit on the edge of the tub where I push some wet hair off her peaceful face. “You okay?”

She smiles without opening her eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Dammit, I knew she was pushing herself too hard. We’re not even supposed to be working tonight, but Brad’s trying to add Thursday VIP nights to see if that will help with the heavy crowds on the weekends. “I’ll call Brad.”

“No, Erik. I’m fine. Just resting.” Now, she’s looking at me.

Sliding my hand down her face, I go past her neck to her collarbone and apply pressure as I rub across to the other side and back again. Her lids close, and I do it again, happy she’s able to relax. I massage her shoulders and chest, even rubbing her soft breasts. The quiet moans she makes aren’t the same ones she does while I’m inside her, but I don’t have to be making love to her to make her feel good. Just seeing her like this is enough to satisfy me.

When enough time has passed that the water becomes lukewarm, I pull my arm out, grab a towel, and hold it out for her. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you some food. We’ve gotta take off in an hour and twenty.”

“Okay.” She steps out, and I wrap her up, gently kissing some of the water off her neck. When she steps away, she pulls the terry cloth tighter around her and turns to me. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Not likin’ you wanting to be away from me, Polly.” The way she bites her lip and her eyes dart around, makes me even less happy. “You gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up.” A sigh leaves her body, making her chest expand. “It’s not that I want to be away from you.”

“Seems that way.”

“It’s not. I promise.”

Giving her the space she needs for whatever reason, I leave the bathroom and head down to the kitchen to make something for us to eat. I’ve learned the very hard way that my girl is not a cook. After digging through the fridge, I decide I need to go to the grocery store. It’s not fancy, but I end up making grilled cheese sandwiches and heating up some soup. Polly comes down, beautiful as ever, just as everything is finished.

“We need to take a trip to the store,” I say, as I set her food in front of her at the island.

“Okay. Thanks.”

Instead of sitting next to her, I remain across so I can look at her. She barely eats any food before getting up to put her dishes away. Since I’m leaning on the counter in front of the sink, she has to get close to me. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms and beg her to tell me what’s wrong.

My appetite disappears and uncertainty replaces my hunger as I throw my food down the disposal. Since she’s already getting her shoes on, I grab my keys and tuck my wallet in my back pocket. We walk to the car, and after I open her door for her and close it when she gets in, I walk around the back of my car and take a couple of breaths to cool down.

The last thing I want to do is push her, but it’s fucking killing me not to say anything. I rest my hand on her thigh, still needing to touch her in any way that I can. All too soon, we pull up to Complexity, and she gets out and heads into the building before I even get my ass out of the car.

As I’m heading into Brad’s office, she comes out and literally runs into me. I reach out to steady her as she grabs my arms. Just like the first time we met. I’ll never forget that day, and the way she looked at me. The way she felt in my arms. God, it was like divine intervention, and I’m scared as shit right now that she doesn’t want to be with me anymore.

“Sorry,” she mutters, and tries to wiggle away, but I give her a small shake. Finally giving me what I want, she looks up. Her eyes well with tears, and my lips part to say something… to say anything so I can figure out what is going on with her, but she shakes her head. “Not now, Erik. Please.” Her words end on a whisper, and to respect her wishes, I simply nod and release my grip.

She scurries away, and I watch as she walks down the hallway and rounds the corner.

“What’s wrong with her?” Brad asks.

“I don’t fuckin’ know. She seemed fine earlier when I dropped her off at the diner, and then when I picked her up, she was in a shitty mood. But now she just seems upset, and she won’t talk to me.” I walk fully inside the office and grab my earpiece.

“She’s probably just on her rag or something.” He chuckles.

“What do you know about that shit, man?”

“Luckily, I don’t have to worry about it with Kennedy, but I’ve been around Rayne enough to know it’s a crap shoot depending on what day you cross their path. Glad I don’t have to live with it.” He gloats and ducks when I throw a pen at him.

“Yeah. She bought some girly shit at the store earlier. That’s probably what it is.” I hope. God, I hope that’s all that it is.

Throughout the night, I make sure to keep an eye on her. Not like I normally don’t anyway, but on top of the sudden mood she’s in, I want to make sure she’s doing okay. She’s carrying a pitcher of beer in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other when a guy turns and runs right into her. Somehow, she manages to keep the tray upright, but the beer spills all over him.

I’m making my way over, pushing through the crowd and trying to drown out the thumping of the bass. Pretty boy goes from drunk and carefree to drunk and angry in a split second. He’s wiping his shirt and glaring at Polly as she tries to placate him. Her arm’s gotta be sore from holding the tray above her head.

As I approach, I gently touch the small of her back. An immediate sigh of relief leaves her. “Go deliver those, I got this.”

She nods and tries to sidestep the guy, but he moves so he’s in front of her. “You need to go get your boss so he can take care of this shit.”

“Move out of her way, man.” I round Polly and motion for her to go around the other side of him. Once she’s out of earshot and setting the drinks down on a table, I finally turn my attention back to him. “What’s the problem?”

“That chick ran into me with a pitcher of beer. This shirt was a hundred and sixty bucks, and somebody is going to reimburse me for it.”

“That’s not happening. One, I saw you jumping around like a tween at a boy band concert before you ran into her. Two, you’re an idiot for spending that much money on a shirt… especially one as ugly as that.” I point at the hunter green with pearl buttons and one pocket with purple and black stitching. His friends snicker behind him, and he crosses his arms. “And three, if I hear another peep out of you about it, I’ll take great pleasure in tossing your scrawny ass out and banning you from ever showing your face here again. We clear?”

His arms fall to his sides, and he huffs. “Whatever.”

“Am I gonna have a problem with you anymore tonight?”

“No.” He goes back and sits down with his friends who are trying not to laugh at him.

Polly walks back toward me with a tray and a bunch of empties and looks embarrassed as if it’s her fault this ass fucking ran into her and made a scene. “Polls, come here.”

She pauses and looks at me, avoiding the guy. “Yeah?”

“Was that pitcher for them or someone else?”

“Them.”

“Okay. You go take care of the empties, and I’ll bring it to them, all right? Go take a breather for a minute.”

Her body visibly relaxes, and she nods. “’Kay.”

I follow her out of the VIP area, and when she stops at the bar to set the tray down, I kiss the top of her head, needing some kind of connection with her. Without even acknowledging me, she takes off down the hallway, and I step behind the bar to fill a pitcher. After I deposit it at the table, I do a walk-through and stick my head outside to make sure Manny is okay.

Except for pretty boy, it’s a calm but busy and steady night, which is nice. I walk back inside and lean over the bar. “I’ll be right back,” I holler to Brad.

“Everything okay?”

“I think so.”

He gives me a chin lift, and I rap my knuckles on the bar top before I go down the hall. As I’m almost to Brad’s office, Polly emerges from the bathroom.

“Hey.”

She falters in her steps and looks down.

“You’ve gotta talk to me. Did something happen?”

“No,” she mumbles. “I’m just tired.”

“You won’t even look at me, baby.” She raises her head, and when I see redness around her eyes, it punches me in the gut. “Talk to me, Polly. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Her lips press together, and she shakes her head.

“No?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I lose my temper and raise my voice, stepping closer to her.

When she cowers away from me, I stay where I am. “You know I’d never lay a hand on you.”

“I know that, you don’t need to keep reminding me.” She turns and goes back to work, and I punch the wall.

The rest of the night and into the morning goes by craptastically well, and when we get home, I take a shower while Polly heads straight to bed. By the time I get out and slide beneath the covers, she’s already asleep. My mind is going eight thousand miles a minute, trying to figure out what the hell is going on with her.

The last time I look at the clock, it says 3:04, but when she gasps and sits up from a nightmare, it states 5:56.

“You okay?” I sit up and rub her back like I’ve been doing every time she wakes up from one of these things. But unlike all the other times, she’s sniffling. Pulling her into my arms, I lie down with her resting her head on my chest and run my fingers through her hair.

Listening to her cry is making me so damn upset, and not knowing how I can help her is pissing me off. “Please talk to me,” I beg. “I’m going crazy here thinkin’ you’re gonna leave me.”

Her breath hitches when she tries to fill her lungs with air. “I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m not trying to be… to act like this, but I can’t help it. I’m so confused.”

“Confused about what?”

“I got my period,” she whispers.

“Figured that.”

“So that means that I… I’m not pregnant.”

Chapter 14

Polly

Erik’s hand stills in my hair, and I hold my breath as I wait for a response. When I don’t get one and my hands begin to shake, I continue. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“Did you want to be pregnant?”

“I never thought I wanted that, and honestly, it was never something I was in the right place in my life to imagine. Growing up, I tried to survive and only had a dream to make it on my own. Having a family wasn’t even on my radar. I took birth control as an extra precaution.”

This has all come as a shock to me since this afternoon, and I know I haven’t handled it well. I’ve purposely kept my standards low my entire life to avoid disappointment. I’ve been hungry, I’ve been scared, and I’ve been alone. And now I’ve finally gotten to the point in my life where I could see a future with a man. A man who genuinely cares about me. He makes me feel safe, and he showed up at the exact moment I needed him.

If it wasn’t for Erik coming back for me, I have no clue what would have happened that night. I still have nightmares. The fear I used to live with has come back in my dreams, and the only time I know I’m safe again is when I’m with Erik. When he’s touching me or even looking at me from across a room.

Except I’m scared now, and I don’t know why.

“So what changed that?”

“You.” I sniffle and clear my throat. “You changed so much, and I want things with you that I didn’t even know I’d ever be free enough to think about. You make it safe enough for me to dream.”

“Means the world to me that you think that.”

“I was late. Like almost two weeks late. With everything that happened, I didn’t even think about it. But then when I got my period at the diner today, it hit me. And it hurt. It hurt that I realized how badly I wanted that. How badly I want to have a baby. And then the thought of having one with you, having a family with you, made me want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But just like that”—I snap my fingers—“it was taken away. Something that I instantly wanted with every fiber of my being was ripped away so fast it left marks deep inside that I’m not sure will ever be able to heal.”

I wait for him to say something, but he’s like a damn statue. He’s usually the one who knows the right thing to say.

“And I’m sorry that I’ve been such a bitch to you, but I’ve been trying to process my emotions, and it just… I dunno, it just feels like a hole in my heart.”

He stands so fast, I fall back on the bed. “Erik?”

It’s dark, so I only see his shadow as he walks out of the room. Oh my God, he hates me. He wasn’t ready to have this talk, and I pushed it on him. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.

I quickly jump out of bed and rush downstairs where he’s slamming cupboards. I skid to a stop in the kitchen when he grabs a bottle off a shelf. He hasn’t talked much about his drinking problem after the night I found him in the tub. As far as I know, he hasn’t had a drop since then, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the cause of him doing that to himself again. “What are you doing?”

“Go back to bed.” He shuts the cupboard and begins untwisting the cap.

He stands with his back to me, so I reach around him, grab the neck of the brand new bottle of vodka, and step away from him as soon as it’s fully in my grasp. “What are you doing?” I repeat.

He turns on me, and the mask of anger on his face alarms me. Not because I’m afraid he’d hurt me, but because I worry I put it there. I’ve seen it directed at other men—mainly at the club when they’ve gotten handsy—but even then his glare wasn’t this intense.

“Go back to bed,” he growls.

“No.” I back away from him as he prowls after me.

“Now is not the time to fuck with me, Polly.” His voice takes on a sinister tone.

As he gets closer, I make a split second decision and throw the bottle as hard as I can across the room. It lands against the edge of the island and explodes. The smell of fermented grains fills the air and almost overpowers the anger rolling off Erik.

“You don’t need that.” I stand tall, satisfied with my decision. Erik may act tough and strong, but I see the moments of weakness when his eyes cloud over. I saw it the first time I laid eyes on him. We’re so much alike, strong on the outside to mask the pain on the inside.

Instead of answering me, he prowls closer. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

I back up until my knees hit the couch. “I’m not scared of you.”

He stops so fast his body rocks. “You think you need to say that to me? Jesus. I’m fucking everything up again.” Running his hands through his hair, he turns his back to me and disappears up the stairs. A minute later, I hear a door slam.

Since I made the mess, I clean up the vodka while he cools off. I know he’d never hurt me, but he needed to know that I’m not backing down when it comes to him.

I go through three rolls of paper towel and finally get it all cleaned up without a scratch on me. As I’m washing my hands, I examine the fading scar from where I stabbed myself last time I cleaned up glass, and it slams into me like a boulder. I run upstairs and barge into the bathroom, praying he’s not doing what he did last time.

He’s standing under the water naked, with his forehead resting on the tile. His arms hang limp at his sides and his shoulder sag in defeat. When I stick my hand inside, the cold water pelts my skin, and I reach over and shut it off. As soon as I do that, his body begins to quiver, so I grab a towel and wrap it around him. I rub his body up and down, taking the chill away until he stops shivering.

He’s way bigger than I am, but I tug at him until he finally moves. He’s doing it on his own accord, but I feel like I’m pulling a grizzly bear with how heavy he is. Making it to the bed, I feel my knees hit the mattress, and I fall to my butt. Erik’s legs are between mine, and the towel is long gone. His cold skin chills mine when he runs a finger along my cheek. Then down to my chest and back up again. The torment in his eyes brings a tear to mine, and when his thumb parts my lips, I don’t hesitate to open.

I knew this was coming, and I want to give it to him. I want to be this for him. Because he’s my crutch, so if he needs to use me like this, I welcome it with open arms. Kind of hard to avoid when his naked body is directly in front of me and his hard dick is pointing at my mouth. He told me; he warned me from the beginning this is how he was. He either drank or fucked, and since I demolished the former, he’s going to need the latter.

He slides his thumb inside my mouth, pulls it out, and then cradles the back of my head with both of his hands. I scoot toward the end of the bed, and he thrusts into my mouth. His eyes don’t leave mine, but his fingers get tighter around my hair. Instead of pumping in and out of my mouth, he uses my head like it’s his hand. Up and down fast as can be. And Lord almighty, it turns me on. I wish I could just roll over and have him take me from behind, but it’s not about me right now. He pulls me back just before I gag but doesn’t let up his pace. The sting on my scalp doesn’t hurt at all. Instead, it spurs me on even more.

He needs this.

I need this. I need to know I didn’t scare him off with what I told him. That he still wants me like this. The thoughts I had scared me, and if the roles were reversed and he suddenly threw on me that he wanted kids, I’m not exactly sure how I would react. Probably poorly. Just like he did.

The movement of my head stops, and he suddenly switches up the pace. I reach up and grab onto his wrist with one hand and the other cups his balls, my finger reaching out to massage the sensitive skin.

“Christ, so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, and his movements become erratic. When his salty flavor hits my tongue, I relax my throat while he stills and comes in my mouth. His fingers loosen, and he closes his eyes and drops his head. I swallow around him, and after a second, he pulls out and falls to his knees.

His arms wrap around my calves and he rests his head on the tops of my thighs. I run my fingers through his hair and wait with bated breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

I don’t know what he’s apologizing for. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“No, I do. You took… I was taken off guard.” His shoulders tense. “I didn’t want to be a dad when Sophia told me she was pregnant. My thought process wasn’t very welcoming back then. Even when I told her I was coming to terms with it, I was lying to her. It’s not that I even had an opinion either way on the subject, but when the reality of being a father… that I would be responsible for a life, when I couldn’t even manage mine the right way… it was just another thing I would fail at, so my natural reaction was to fight.

“When I got the call that she had died, the first thing I thought about was the baby. And like you’d said earlier, you didn’t even realize you wanted it and it was taken away. That’s how I felt… except it was real. There was a real baby growing in her belly, half of my blood, the only blood aside from mine that was still alive… and it was dead because of me.”

It’s so hard listening to his voice crack—the big strong guy who from the outside looks untouchable. He’s had to hide this for far too long, and I hate that he has to relive these feelings, but my guess is he’s never said them out loud. He’s probably never faced them because when he would start to, he’d drown his sorrows one way or another.

“A part of me died, too. With them, a part of me was gone. Any good parts of me went into the ground with them, and I decided from that point on that I wasn’t allowed any goodness. I didn’t deserve it. Not only with my mom, but also with Sophia and the baby—I was nothing but a goddamned pussy. To them and to myself as well. I always called my dad a coward for ending his life just because my mom was gone. He still had me, and he fuckin’ abandoned me. I didn’t understand it. All I could think was that it was my punishment for not protecting my mom.”

“You were young, Erik. Especially with your mom.”

“Doesn’t matter. I knew better. I knew better than to answer the door for those men, and I knew better than to let Sophia go that night. The guilt… the damn fuckin’ grip it’s had on me has been hell. I was content with being miserable and feeling sorry for myself. I was just waiting for the devil to come up and take me, drag me down to live eternity burning because that’s where I belonged. But then I realized living without my family, without her and the baby we created together, was worse. I was living an even worse version of hell.”

He stands up and pushes me to my back on the bed and then straddles me. Like before, he cradles my face, but gentler this time. “But then I met you. And for the first time in what felt like ever, I actually saw a light. I saw the sun instead of the clouds, and when I realized the pull you had on me, I tried to push you away because I knew you could do better. And before you argue”—he holds a finger to my lips—“that was before. Before you walked away from me and before I gave myself the permission to love again. To be with someone who makes me feel alive.”

When a tear falls from my eye, he wipes it with his thumb. Maybe other women would get upset hearing him talk about his ex, but for me, it just goes to show that he’s a caring, devoted, and worthy man.

“I have never, not once, thought about a future that consisted of a family. Not back then and not up until about an hour ago. So I freaked the hell out.” His lips tilt up into a smile. “But I freaked out because I could see it. I can picture a family with you. I could see a little blond-headed girl in pigtails running around the yard with a puppy chasing her.”

I laugh at the image he creates because it’s similar to what I pictured too, except it was an auburn-haired boy running around.

“I won’t lie to you; I don’t know if I’m ready for that right now, but if it were to happen this instant with you, the thought only scares me a little.”

“That was you being scared a little?”

He gets off me and rolls to his side. “I’m sorry… for the way I reacted, for the alcohol, and everything. I just. I haven’t even told you I love you yet, and you hit me with something like that so out of the blue, and I fucked up. I reacted so badly, and I wish I could do it over, but—”

“Did you really just say that you love me?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I did. Because I do.”

When I swallow, my throat burns, and tears sting my eyes again. “Really?”

“Yeah. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.”

“I’ve nev—” My words cut off as I try to articulate what I want to say. “I’ve never heard those words before.”

His handsome face, so expressive with the different emotions running through us tonight, softens as he runs his thumb along my cheek. “That’s a shame, baby, because you’re really lovable.”

“I don’t know exactly what love feels like. I’ve never felt about someone the way I feel about you. Like… when I’m not around you, it’s harder to breathe, and when you touch me, nothing else matters. When we’re together, I finally feel whole, like a piece of me has been missing my entire life, and I didn’t even know it.”

He smiles. “Yeah, I’d say that’s love ’cause that’s what it feels like for me, too. But there’s also this… primal need to protect you that I’ve never experienced before. My dad used to tell me that until I found a woman who made it so that I wanted to punch a man when he even looked at her, I wasn’t truly in love.”

“I’d like to have met him.”

“He was pretty damn cool. They got taken from me too early, but I was lucky enough to have them at all.”

“Yeah. I don’t even know who my parents were. Or are, if they’re still alive.”

“I hate that for you.”

I shrug. “Never really put much thought into it, I guess.”

“I’m really sorry I flipped out earlier. But know that I’ll make it up to you, I promise that. When it does happen, I won’t be anything but overjoyed. And I’ll be the best dad I can; I’ll try really hard to be the kind of man my kids can look up to. Right now, I wouldn’t be, and I need to change that.”

“I don’t agree with that.” He’s the kind of man who I’d be more than proud to be the father of my children. Children… It’s still so new to me, but I’m going to embrace the fact that I have something to look forward to.

He moves over, slides beneath the covers, and then holds them open as I go to my side. He pulls me to him, my back to his chest, and I hold his hand with my own.

“Love you, Polly.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter 15

Erik

It hurts to not laugh right now, but the way she’s throwing a fit over burned eggs is kind of cute. We woke up this morning wrapped up in each other the same way we fell asleep last night. I feel like that was a turning point in our relationship. Marriage and kids is something that, if you’re going into a relationship long term, should be discussed. And now that is has been, now that I got the initial shock out of my system, we can move forward. Besides, heavy shit’s been too rampant between us so far, so I’m looking forward to the good stuff.

“I can go get more eggs.”

“No.” She tosses the pan into the sink. “Goddammit.”

“It’s just eggs, Polls.” I come up behind her and cage her in, gripping the edge of the countertop. “We can go grab something else.”

“But I should be able to cook my boyfriend breakfast.”

My heart does a little kick when she says that. “Your boyfriend?”

“You are not going to tell me after what happened last night that I can’t call you my boyfriend!”

I chuckle against her neck and nip at her ear. “Of course, you can. You can call me whatever you want as long as you come home with me every night.”

Her shoulders shake, and I realize she’s crying. Turning her in my arms, I hold her close. “Stop cryin’, baby. You’re killin’ me over here.”

“Don’t tell me to stop crying. A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours, and I’m allowed to feel how I want to feel without you telling me to stop. For the first time in my entire life, I had somebody tell me they love me and want to have a family with me, and it’s a lot to process. I can’t even cook him breakfast, and it makes me sad! Especially since I’m on my period and my hormones are going crazy.”

“That explains it.”

She pulls her head off my chest to look at me. “Explains what?”

“Why you’re so moody.”

Her eyes flare, and her little fist hits my shoulder. “You can’t say that!”

“What?”

“That I’m moody.”

“Uh. You just did.”

“That’s because I can. You can’t.”

“Noted.” I snap my mouth shut and hold my hands up in surrender.

“Good.” She kisses my cheek, and if it wasn’t attached, my head would spin. How the fuck is she going to go from pissed to sad to happy in a matter of minutes? “Now, do you want to go get breakfast? Then we can go grocery shopping. I’d like to get a cookbook, too. I’ve only ever cooked for myself, and it consisted of prepacked crap.”

“We can go wherever you want.”

“Okay. Thanks, handsome.”

I give her a wide berth while we get ready and I’m pleased that she’s chatty and happy in the car. Deciding that I want to have better memories at the best pancake restaurant in town, I go back to where I took her before.

When we get a table, I sit next to her and toss my arm around her shoulder. Breakfast is amazing—seriously, the best pancakes ever—and when Polly licks the maple syrup from her finger, it gives me all sorts of ideas. We’re now at the bookstore looking for a cookbook. “I think I need like a cooking one-oh-one,” she says to me.

“Whatever you want, babe.”

We browse a little, and she finally picks a couple, and even I grab one for grilling. After we check out, we go to the grocery store. I walk behind her and push the cart while she rides on the wire bottom. She’s my height like this, and when she turns her head, her lips are begging for me to kiss them. So I do. She tries to pull back, but I grab her head and keep her lips on mine. When I slide my tongue across them, she doesn’t budge. I pull back just enough to speak. “Open for me, baby.”

“We’re in the middle of the bread aisle!”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Well, I do.” She has a slight panicky look in her eyes, so I give her this play.

“Okay. No PDA.”

“It’s not that. I like it when you hold my hand or have your arm around me, but making out in the grocery store is a little too much for me. I’m sorry.” Her palm rests on my cheek.

“Don’t ever apologize for telling me how you feel. But you know what this means, right?”

“What?”

I lean in closer and run my tongue along the shell of her ear. “If I follow your rules in public, you have to follow mine in private.”

Her brow rises on one side in the most adorable way possible, and she laughs. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“No.” I start pushing the cart again. “It’s a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

While we’re going up and down the aisles, we grab random items, hoping we’ll have what we need to follow some of the recipes in the books we bought. When we get to the candy aisle, I stop in front of a section of chocolate and begin grabbing different kinds.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting stocked up.”

She comes up behind me and smacks my shoulder. “Don’t be an ass.”

“What?” I shrug and grab some caramel-filled bars. “Now that I know, I want to be prepared for next month.”

As I’m reaching for chocolate-covered raisins, she walks down the aisle and comes back with a few things. “Can’t forget about taffy.”

I hide a chuckle when she digs through the cart to see what’s already in there and then scrutinizes the displays before grabbing a couple of things I missed. “Don’t judge me.”

Laughter erupts from deep in my stomach, and she smiles at me. Who would have thought a trip to the grocery store would be so fun? I guess when you’re with the person you love, anything can be fun. That’s what everyone wants to find in this life; someone to share it with. And now that I’ve found her, there’s no way I’m ever letting her go.

* * *

“You can’t beat the shit out of anyone who looks at her wrong, Erik. Jesus fuck, man.” Brad paces in his office, and I lean on the door, unaffected by his words.

“He didn’t look at her wrong, Brad; he fucking grabbed her ass and put his disgusting mouth on her neck.” My hands shake just thinking about it again. “I’ve kept my cool in the past. You can’t give me shit for defending her. Not only because she’s my girlfriend but also because she’s an employee of yours. You want assholes coming in here thinking they can get away with that shit in your club, then you hired the wrong man to head up your security.”

“You broke his nose!”

“He fought back. All I did was grab him by his arm and the back of his shirt. He was the one who made the mistake of trying to swing on me. It was one hit; he’s just a pussy.” It’s hard not to smile at the satisfaction I remember feeling when his bone crunched under my hand.

“Dammit, Erik, this isn’t a joke.” Brad raises his voice, and I stand up straighter.

“I don’t think it is, either. But this is why you hired me. You knew this kind of shit would happen, and you needed someone to remove the nuisance before it became a problem. There’s always one drunk asshole who tests the limits. They say shit to Polly, and I ignore it; they try to get her number, and I don’t do shit. But the second someone puts their hands on her, I move in. It doesn’t happen every day, Brad. But it’s inevitable. You know this.”

He plops down in his chair and rubs his hands over his face. “Ugh. I know. Fuck!”

Polly was busting her ass tonight, and as I was doing my rounds, I noticed a man watching her. Part of protection and bodyguard work is to always look at who’s looking at the person you’re protecting. I’m always aware of my surroundings and of Polly’s. I see it every time we’re together; the looks she gets. She’s hot, and I don’t blame anyone; they can look… not touch.

This guy tonight didn’t do anything until he’d had a few drinks, but when he did, he went all out. He stood directly in front of her, plastered his body against hers, and then grabbed her ass and licked her neck. I realize that she’s beautiful and her body is to die for, and mostly when she’s working, people are respectful, but Brad needs to realize this is a common occurrence. I think he’s still trying to accept the fact that his club is going in a direction he never wanted.

He pushes himself out of the chair. “You’re right. I know it. I just hate that she’s subject to it at all.”

“I know.” When I do go into the field on a protection call, my only requirement is that it’s not a woman. With my past, I don’t want to put myself in a position where I’d overreact. And I could see it happening very easily; plus, the other guys don’t mind one bit.

Brad runs an irritated hand through his hair. “I’ve got some shit going on with my dumbass brother, too, so I’m on edge.”

“What’s up with him?”

A bitter laugh works its way out of him. “What’s not up with him? He’s just a dick. Always starting shit, showing up at my parents’ on Sunday for supper when he knows he’s not supposed to be there since all he does is get in Kenny’s face.”

“Such a prick.”

“Yeah, he really is. And I’m pretty fuckin’ sure he’s tweakin’ or something because he actually hit me up for money today, the fuckin’ asshole. God, I really hate him; he’s such a piece of shit.”

Brad hired me for security at his and Kenny’s wedding. I was responsible for making sure Brad’s dickhead brother didn’t show up and cause a scene since he’s so against them getting married. Or being together, really. I was given a bunch of photos so I’d recognize him, and I’d say Brad’s guess is pretty accurate. In the more recent pictures, his face looks more sunken in and his pupils were dilated more than normal.

“All right. I’m gonna go back out there, okay?” I turn the knob on the door and don’t wait for an answer before I go back to work. Polly smiles at me as she walks by with a tray of drinks, and the nerves I get from being away from her vanish.

The rest of the night is uneventful, and when we arrive back home, we both fall asleep right away. No nightmares wake her up, which is really good. I’m hoping they’ve gone away completely.

When I get up in the morning, my arms are empty. Not liking that feeling, I get out of bed fast and use the bathroom before I throw on a pair of sweats and make my way downstairs.

My feet hit the floor of the kitchen, and I laugh at the sight in front of me. “You look kinda hot in front of the stove.”

She whips her head toward me and sticks her tongue out. “Shut up.”

As I take a seat at the island, I soak in her toned legs and luscious ass. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and there’s a slit of skin showing between the end of her sweatshirt and the top of her itty-bitty shorts. What makes my dick twitch, though, is the little bits of flour or powdered sugar on her thigh and cheek. Makes me wanna lick it off.

“Whatcha making?” If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m afraid history might repeat itself, I’d go over to her, so until she comes to me, I’m keeping my distance.

“Look.” She turns and holds out a stack of pancakes, the smile on her face lighting up the entire room. “I made pancakes.”

“I see that, baby.” When she sets the plate down in front of me, I reach up and grab the back of her head to keep her face close so I can kiss her. “They look great.”

I get up and pour some juice while she gets plates and grabs the syrup. She sits next to me, and with one hand, I dump some maple syrup on my pancakes and use my fork to cut the stack. My other hand rests on her thigh, and I give it a squeeze. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

She tucks some stray hair behind her ear and ducks her head like she’s embarrassed. “You’re welcome. I just hope they turned out okay.”

“I’m sure they’re great.” I eat a forkful, and as soon as I take a bite, raw batter seeps onto my tongue. It takes everything in me to not spit it out and gag. Especially since the bottom is burned, too. Her eyes are wide, waiting for a response. “Mmm.” I give a thumbs up, and she happily squeals.

I’m hoping it’s just mine that aren’t cooked all the way through. It kills me that she’s trying so hard to be a good cook, and it’s clearly not working for her.

Her lips wrap around her fork, and she spits it out before she even gets a chance to fully chew. “Oh, my God, it’s not done all the way! Gross.” With frantic hands, she clears our plates and throws them into the sink.

If it wasn’t for her eyes shining with unshed tears, I’d laugh at the situation. “It’s okay, babe. You’ll figure it out.”

“I followed the directions, so I don’t know what happened.” She turns and leans on the countertop then crosses her arms. “It’s times like these that I wish I would have had a real mom growing up. Did your mom cook?”

“She baked. We had a housekeeper who made our meals, but my mom loved to bake. She tried to teach me, but I’ll be honest; I don’t remember any of it. It never held my focus. I always wanted to be with my dad doing guy stuff.”

“That’s not surprising.” She comes and sits back where she was before, twisting to place her legs between mine. “I had a foster mom for a little bit who was a great cook. She never let me help her in the kitchen, but I remember thinking I wanted to be able to cook like that one day.”

“Why did you have to leave her house?” My heart breaks thinking about her as a kid, not really having anybody, and how lonely that must have been. I didn’t realize how lucky I was to have a loving family until my parents were gone. Growing up, I knew nothing else, so when it was taken from me, it was such a shock that I numbed myself to the loneliness for a long time.

I wasn’t particularly close with my grandparents but not because of anything bad. They didn’t fly, and that, combined with the busy schedule of my parents, meant we didn’t see them often. It was Sophia who was there for me when the reality of my parents’ death hit me. She was the one who was there to reassure me everything would be okay and held me when I was too weak to stand.

Part of the reason I fell in love with her was because she saw me at my worst and helped me through some of the darkest times I’ve ever experienced. I loved her, and I feel like I need to preface my thoughts with that. But I always saw a small part of her as a… a shadow of the past, I guess. She reminded me of what I lost because she helped me get through it.

But Polly gives me a future I thought wasn’t an option anymore. I look at her as a glimpse of what could be, not of what I’ve lost. On top of that, she offers me so much more. More than she’ll ever know. I just hope I’m enough to give her what she needs.

“Honestly?” she asks. “I don’t remember why I left that one. I was in and out of so many places without warning or reason. I learned not to even unpack my suitcase after a while, and as I got older, I’m pretty sure it was because of that. People want to adopt babies, not teenagers, and I understood that. Babies needed more love and care than an older kid, so I always tried to look at it as my leaving gave them an opportunity for a better life.”

I know she doesn’t want pity, but I can’t help the punch to my gut every time she talks about this. I admire her strength so much. After my parents died, I fell the hell apart, yet she’s managed to survive without any—and through circumstances most would crumble under.

“Anyway”—she stands and heads toward the stairs—“let’s go grab some edible food. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Following her up the stairs, I grab her hips and spin her around when we get to the top then swing her over my shoulder. “What are you doing?” She laughs.

I march to the bathroom and set her on the ground then turn the water in the shower on. When it’s warming up, I drop trou and reach past her for my toothbrush. She leans back to grab her own and after we brush our teeth, I step inside the shower. The steam fills the bathroom, and a couple of minutes later, she joins me.

She’s in my arms in a matter of seconds, and we start our day in a way that’s better than eating pancakes… Tastes better, too.

Chapter 16

Polly

Even as the night comes to a close, I’m still upset that I ruined the pancakes this morning. I have never tried to cook before Erik. It wasn’t something I thought I’d need to worry about… ever, let alone in the near future. I always bought prepackaged, premade food, or grabbed some takeout. The thought that I should learn how to cook wasn’t high on my radar—having enough rent money was, though, so a good meal wasn’t even a notch on the priority scale. It’s not like I grew up with it and it was suddenly missing from my life; shit food was my norm.

My feet are sore. I’m still not quite used to being on them so much two days in a row, and I’m relieved when I hear the bartender announce last call. I close out everyone’s tabs and clean up the tables and booths as they clear out.

“Hey, Polly.”

I stand straight with a bunch of empties and face Brad. “Hey, what’s up?” He looks worn out, more than just tired at two thirty in the morning. This week has been extra long, and I think we’re all feeling it.

“I’m having a little meeting with everyone at the bar once the place is cleaned up, so don’t take off, all right?”

My curiosity piques at the irritation in his voice. “Okay. I’m almost done.”

He offers a stiff smile before he grabs some empty glasses from another table and then heads down the stairs. I follow not far behind, and after about twenty minutes pass, the bar is cleaned up and we’re all sitting around on a high top table, most of us with a beer in hand. Erik is behind me, offering his support as a back rest as Brad pulls up a stool across from me.

Manny, Jax, Josh, Damien, and Vince all sit up a little straighter when Brad clears his throat. “So you guys know we’ve had some issues lately in the VIP section.”

The guys all nod, and I look around when they collectively grunt. “What are you talking about?” I wasn’t aware there was a problem in my section. I know Brad had to fill in and play waiter when I was out but other than that, I didn’t think anything was wrong. If anything, I thought it was good that we were so busy.

“Not a fan of these drunk assholes thinking it’s okay to put their hands on you, Polly. I don’t give a shit how much money it’s bringing in; I’m doing something about it.” He glances up at Erik then back to me. “Well, something aside from having a guard dog on you, that is. In order to reserve a booth, I’m requiring down payment from now on. And included in that payment will be an agreement about conduct. If any of the guests in their party act inappropriately, they lose the deposit and get banned.”

A soft murmur of agreements echo in the empty club. I don’t mind the change, although it does come as a shock to me and apparently not to everyone else.

“And it’s not just the entitled pricks who try to touch you, Polly; it’s the broken glasses and the fuckin’ hole in two of my booths from a pair of high heels when they stand to dance on it.”

I’m glad to know he’s not just worried about me. I try to tell him that it’s okay every time it happens, because, for the most part, I am, but the truth is it does make me uncomfortable. I think the only reason I’m even sort of okay about it is because I know Erik’s got my back. And so do all the other guys. But I certainly don’t want Brad to have to change policies because of me.

“Also, I want you to start training behind the bar, Polly.”

I jerk my head in Brad’s direction. “Huh?”

“We talked about it a while ago.”

“Um. Okay.” I didn’t intend for my voice to match my irritation.

“It’s not just because of you, Polly.” Brad sighs. “It is, but there’s also a bigger picture. I’m hoping the deposits will help, but I’d like to have the option to pull you out for a bit if we think it’s needed.”

My spine straightens, and I plaster a fake smile to my face. “’Kay, whatever.”

Erik rubs up and down my arm as Brad continues talking about some changes with the interior that I’m not paying attention to. As he wraps up the meeting, we all head to Brad’s office, grab our personal belongings, and head outside together. Erik’s hand stays steady on my lower back as we make our way to his car, and once we’re in, I put my belt on and cross my legs and arms. “Did you know about this?”

“What?” He glances at me as he’s stopped at a stoplight.

“That Brad wanted to put me behind the bar.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” I look out my window and bite my tongue.

His hand reaches my thigh, and he gently squeezes it. “You pissed about something?”

“No. I just don’t like people making decisions for me without talking to me about them.”

“There wasn’t anything to discuss with you, Polly. Brad was the one who came up with the idea. I just agreed with him. He needs to do what’s best for his club, and that includes keeping his employees safe.”

“But he didn’t even ask if I—the one who it affects—thought it was something that needed to be changed. ’Cause I don’t think it even does. It’s not that bad.”

“No offense, baby, but it doesn’t really matter what you think. It’s ultimately Brad’s and my decision. I kind of know what I’m talking about here. I’m in charge of security, and you’re not the only person who works there, so don’t jump to conclusions and think you’re the only one who was factored in the changes.”

Instead of answering, I grunt. One thing I promised myself after everything I went through was that I’d never let anyone control my life again. I’d never give anyone the power to make decisions I wanted to make or take away my right to choose.

“Whatever.” Maybe I’m being overdramatic, but it pisses me off. I get that Brad made the decision, but my own fucking boyfriend can’t even say something to me before I have to hear it from my boss? He couldn’t have pulled me aside before tonight? I’m pretty sure if you’re in a relationship, you’re supposed to give the other person a heads up.

“You still bleeding?”

My already seething temper begins to boil. “What?”

“Just trying to figure out if that’s why you’re pissed or not.”

“Even if I was, which I’m not as of this afternoon, that has nothing to do with it.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Polls.”

“No, not whatever I say. That’s the truth. Why the hell would you ask me that?”

“Because I haven’t been inside your pussy in four days, and it’s starting to make me crazy.”

I choke on my spit and try to hide the desire that sparks in me just from hearing him discuss sex. “Well, I’m not, but I’m still mad you didn’t talk to me, so you’re not getting any regardless.”

He bites his lip and nods. “Sure, baby.”

“Yeah. Sure,” I sass back. I’m such a liar, though. I’ve missed him that way, too. Blowjobs and finger fucks in the shower aren’t the same as his cock.

The silence in his car makes me nervous, especially since his hand isn’t on my leg anymore, but I stick to my guns. He should have told me. As his girlfriend and the woman he’s living with, he should have told me this stuff before.

Maybe it makes me a bitch or jaded or whatever, but I won’t be kept in the dark again. It’s happened so many times that it’s an instantaneous reflex to get defensive about it. Once small things get kept a secret, it only leads to bigger things, and before it gets too bad, I want to protect myself. After all, if I don’t, nobody else will.

Well, that’s not true anymore. Erik will. I know he will, but by not being assertive, it shows him I’m a doormat, and I will not be walked over again… not even by him.

He pulls into the garage, and I get out before him then go inside. Deciding I want a few minutes to cool off, I step into the shower. I’m not a weak little girl who needs a savior. I’m a grown ass woman in charge of her own damn destiny. Yep, until he apologizes, he ain’t gettin’ any.

I’ve gone years without it before, so I can go a few weeks without it again. He thinks he missed being inside me… but I missed him way more. As I’m scrubbing my body, my hand drifts between my legs, and I drop my loofah. Moisture is already slick between my folds, and as I swirl my finger around, it does nothing but make the ache worse.

A frustrated growl leaves me, and I finish my shower knowing that nothing will satisfy the craving except him, but since I’m asserting myself as an independent woman, I vow to hold my ground.

I step out of the shower, reach for a towel and dry myself off, then I grab a pair of undies and a tank from the walk-in closet. Having my clothes mixed in with his still brings a smile to my face. After brushing my teeth, I take a breath before I open the door to the bedroom. Erik is sitting in his spot on the bed with his laptop on his knees and doesn’t look up when I approach. After I slide under the covers, I glance at his screen. “What the hell?”

“Huh?”

“You’re watching porn?”

He looks over at me and nods. “Yeah. You won’t give it up, so…”

My mouth hangs open, and I turn my back to him and try to block out the noise when he turns the volume up. Heavy panting and women moaning shouldn’t turn me on, but I can’t help it when the muscles in my leg involuntarily make my thighs rub together.

I fight the urge to roll back over when the sound goes off, thinking I won by not reacting. A moment later, the telltale sign of skin slapping together echoes, and I lose the battle and turn over. A guy is pounding into a chick against a desk, and just as he pulls out and comes all over her stomach, Erik exits out of the screen and pulls open another one.

He does this three different times, each scene getting hotter than the next. Each orgasm of the women hits me right between the legs, and I know mine would be even better if Erik were the one giving them. He must be able to tell he found one that turns me on more than the rest because he enlarges the screen and nudges it toward me more.

I try not to look, but when the guy’s finger disappears inside her, I suck in a breath.

“You like that?” Erik asks.

“Huh?”

“Your hand is at your throat, and your face is all red, baby… I can hear how fast you’re breathing.”

Instead of answering, I swallow hard and then clear my throat as I give a meaningless shake of my head.

“You do.” He tosses the covers to the ground and sets the laptop at the end of the bed. He’s already naked, and his dick is hard and ready, the precum dripping down his shaft hotter than the people on the screen. He grips his long, hard length and begins stroking himself. I glance back and forth between the screen and him, both sights enough to make me explode.

“What… what are you doing?” I ask him after a couple of minutes go by, and he still hasn’t made a move to touch me.

“Me? I’m jacking off to porn since my girlfriend told me she wasn’t going to let me fuck her tonight.”

“I see.” Just when I move my eyes from him to the screen, the woman throws her head back and screams as an orgasm rips through her.

“I’d happily fuck you with my fingers, baby. My tongue, my cock. Whatever you want. All you need to do is say the word.”

I don’t try to argue with him as I can feel the moisture pooling between my legs right now. He knows me too well, and I can’t even pretend that I don’t want him. “Hmm.”

“But if you’re still gonna be stubborn ’cause your man was looking out for you, then I’ll just have to imagine it. I’d bet you’d come hard as shit right now. All worked up. Bet my dick would be sore from how hard you squeezed it when you—”

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, but he obviously hears me because he smirks.

“Your call, Polly. I either need to get inside you, or I’m gonna finish myself, ’cause—”

“No,” I interrupt him. “No. With me.”

His brows rise, and his hand stops its movement. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” The woman screams, and I look over to see them in a different position than they were before.

“Get on your knees, baby, but turn so you can still watch.”

I comply quickly, taking off my own panties and sticking my ass in the air. “Tilt your ass up more so I can get to your pussy, Polly.” I shift my position, and right after I do, the head of his dick searches for me and slides in, nice and slow. “Fuck, baby. I missed this.”

He pulls out and continues to fuck me slowly. I thought he’d pound into me, and I’m trying to decide if it’s better or worse. After several long, torturous minutes, I decide it’s worse. Just when I’m about to scream for him to move faster, his fingers reach around and rub circles on the sensitive nerves between my folds. “Oh, my God.” My head falls to the mattress, and I can feel my walls starting to clench around him already.

“Love this, baby.”

He pinches me, and the orgasm I’ve been teetering on rips through me. He pulls his hand away then grips my hips and fucks me harder, faster, and deeper. I scream so loud that I’m giving the chick in the porn a run for her money. I come for what seems like ever, and a blurry fog forms in front of me. When I open my eyes again, I’m lying on the bed with my head on the pillow and the covers up to my chin.

“You good, babe?”

My hand goes to my head, and I push some hair away. “Yeah, what happened?” I mean, I know what happened, but I don’t remember moving up here.

“You kinda passed out.”

“Kinda?”

He smirks. “You passed out after I pounded into you so hard I thought I’d break you in half.”

That sounds about right. “Well, hell,” I mutter. “That’s never happened before.”

Chapter 17

Erik

“Please, talk to her, Erik. I think she would,” Mellie begs through the receiver.

“I can try, babe. Not sure she’s ready to yet.” I hear the pipes shut off in our bathroom and walk out of the bedroom. “We haven’t talked about the Richard situation much and, in turn, how she feels about you.” We’ve talked about a lot of other things, gotten deeper into each other than anyone else has before, but for some reason, it’s just not been a big topic of conversation.

“Well, just ask her, okay? I’d love to have you guys over.”

“I’ll try.”

“Let me know soon, okay? Bye!”

I hang up my phone, and instead of going back in the bedroom, I continue downstairs to mull over my decision. Mellie invited us over for dinner, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea. Things are going well with Polly and me, and I don’t want to rock the boat, so to speak.

Mellie insists that when they were in the ER together for Polly’s hand—which I still feel like absolute shit for—they talked and kind of came to an agreement. I find it hard to believe, though, since I know more about how Polly operates. She acts strong and seems tough, but when she talks about certain things, insecurity and uncertainty still linger.

A few minutes pass and Polly comes down the stairs looking pretty as ever wearing a pair of light blue tight jeans and a black t-shirt. So simple but so damn beautiful.

“Hey, handsome,” she greets as she sees me. “Did you eat yet?”

It’s the morning after she passed out from the phenomenal sex we had. Never been so damn good, but everything is amazing with her, though. It just keeps getting better. I am starving but I was waiting for her. “No. I was just about to get some cereal. Unless you wanna go out?”

“Cereal is good. We can’t keep eating out so much; we’ll go broke and get fat.”

I want to tell her that money isn’t an issue but don’t want to seem like I’m rubbing it in or something. Instead, I grab the sugary kind of cereal she picked out while she gets bowls and spoons. After I put the box on the countertop, I get the milk and sit next to her at the table. “So do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No, why?” She pours milk to the rim of her bowl.

“Want some cereal with your milk?” I joke.

“Shut up. I like a lot of milk.” She takes a bite then covers her mouth as she’s chewing. “No, no plans, why?”

“Mellie and Smith invited us over for dinner.”

I’m expecting her to freeze up, or to argue immediately, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods. “Okay. That sounds good.”

Not wanting to show my shock, I shove a spoonful into my mouth and give her a thumbs up.

* * *

“Do they even like wine?” Polly asks nervously as we walk up to Smith and Mellie’s house.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, Smith drinks beer, but Mellie likes it.”

“I wish the cake would have turned out.”

When I snicker, she elbows me. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Sorry, baby. But that shit was funny.”

After I called Mellie and told her that we were coming for dinner, Polly insisted on trying to bake something, so we flipped through the pages of her new cookbook and found a recipe for a basic chocolate cake. I was with her for the whole thing, and I swear we did everything right, but when the timer went off and we pulled the thing out of the oven, it was collapsed and seeping over the edges.

“What the hell?” Polly screamed when she saw it, and I almost fell to the ground laughing so hard. We went back over everything and realized we’d used baking powder instead of baking soda. I had no idea they were even different ingredients, but when we looked it up online, we discovered that baking soda is what makes food get its form.

She got so mad, she threw the pan into the sink and because it was still doughy, some of it flew up and splattered all over her. She turned around and whipped some at me so fast I didn’t even have time to react. Then I attacked her, and we ended up eating whipped cream and chocolate syrup off each other instead.

“I’m never trying to cook again,” she mumbles just as I knock on the door.

My hand is still in a fist when the door is whipped open, and Mellie greets us. “Why are you knocking? Come in, come in.”

We go inside, and Mellie hugs me and then Polly, who is a little stiff but still accepting. “We brought wine,” Polly says when Mellie pulls back.

“Oh, thanks. My favorite kind. Let’s go open it!” Mellie practically drags Polly away, and I make a detour into the living room where I hear the telltale signs of a basketball game.

“Hey, man,” I say in way of greeting as I plop down next to Smith.

“Hey.” He looks in the hallway. “Girls in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t have trouble getting Polly here?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “She was cool with it.”

Smith turns the volume down on the TV, and we shoot the shit until Mellie calls us for dinner. When Polly comes into view, I examine her as I approach to gauge how she’s feeling. She leans into me, holding a glass of wine. I kiss her head and then lean down to her ear. “Everything good?”

“Yup.” She looks up and smiles at me.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

When we sit down for dinner, I rest my hand on her thigh. Mellie made a delicious pot roast, and the talk at the table is small but pleasant. There isn’t any awkwardness, which surprises me. Mellie insists on doing the dishes herself—something about Smith not loading the dishwasher right—so he and I go back to the living room. Polly goes with Mellie to help.

“That went well,” Smith states.

“Yeah, it did.”

“Polly say anything to you about Richard trying to contact her?”

My curiosity and anger spike at the same time. “No. Why would you ask that?”

He leans closer to me. “Mellie’s gotten a couple of collect calls from the jail. None of them really recent. She declined all the calls, so she never talked to him.”

“I’ll ask Polly, but I’d assume she would have told me.”

“She know about Soph?” That’s an abrupt change of subject.

I look away from him, and my knee cracks when I stand. “What are we, teenage girls or some shit?” He doesn’t need to know what Polly and I discuss or what she does or doesn’t know.

“Just wondering, man.”

“Well, don’t. My life is not your business.”

Smith’s head jerks back. “She was my sister. Pretty sure that was my business.”

“What the fuck does she have to do with Polly and me?”

He stands up and walks closer to me. “I’ve never said shit to you about it, but I’ll say it once and then never bring it up again.”

“The fuck are you gettin’ at?”

“I had to come to your house and drag your drunk ass outta your tub after your girl over there tried and sliced the shit out of her ha—”

“Shut the fuck up.” I move toe to toe with him, and it takes all my strength not to hit him in his face.

“You got your shit straight yet?” he asks, and as much as I want to be pissed at him, I know what he’s getting at. I have to remember he doesn’t know about me working at The Firm when I wasn’t here. He thinks I’m more of a loser than I am.

Taking a breath, I step back. “Yeah. I do. But Smith, you’ve gotta know that for as much as you think I’m a piece of shit alcoholic—”

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.”

“You’ve only seen the bad, man. When I was here, I was fucked up. I’m not denying that. But… well, you know about my dad and stuff, but what I never told you was that I own the company. And all the times you thought I was out on benders, I was most likely there. Working. I mainly do admin shit—set up clients, organize schedules, train, hire… that kind of shit.” Don’t feel like getting into why I don’t like doing fieldwork.

He whistles in shock. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. “I don’t know. Don’t know why I did a lot of the shit I’ve done. Didn’t know much about nothin’ till I met that girl in there. Loved your sister, Smith. Bottom of my heart, man, I did. But…” How do I word this?

“But she wasn’t the one.”

I shake my head. “She wasn’t. She helped me get through a lot of shit and I’ve got nothin’ but love for her.”

Hardest part about moving on from Sophia is the guilt I feel for being happy with someone else. Yeah, I still have all the shit from my parents. And yes, I will always harbor the guilt from everything that happened with Soph, but I’ve come to realize that drowning my sorrows in self-pity is not the way to live.

“I know you do.” Smith grasps my shoulder just as the girls walk in.

When I see Mellie with a chocolate cake and Polly holding back a smile, I collapse on the couch and laugh until tears are running down my face.

“She said she had no idea, but what are the chances?” Polly giggles as she snuggles next to me.

When we compose ourselves enough to tell Smith and Mellie the story, they don’t laugh nearly as hard as Polly and I did, but that’s okay. It’s something that she and I share, no matter how stupid it seems to someone else.

“What’s the occasion for a cake, anyway?” I ask.

Mellie kneels on the floor and looks at Smith. She bites her lip and wordlessly cuts into the cake. When she sets a piece on a plate and hands it to Smith, I can see the way her hand is shaking, and so does he. Smith doesn’t even look at the cake because of his concern. “You okay, sunshine?”

She nods and pushes the cake at him. He takes the plate and sets it down then gets off the couch. “Why are you shaking? Do you not feel well?”

“I’m fine. Eat your cake,” she demands.

“Let me get you some water.” He stands up, and Mellie laughs.

“Smith, look at the freaking cake!” I look at it faster than he does and try to decide why a pink center with chocolate frosting is so pertinent right now. But then Polly sniffles next to me, and I realize why.

Smith stops in the doorway and looks down at the coffee table where he set his plate. It takes him a good fifteen seconds of staring at it before I watch his face transform into sheer joy. “We’re having a girl?” he asks, not at all surprised, like I am, that she’s pregnant in the first place.

Polly’s weight gets heavier as she leans into me and grabs my leg a little tighter.

“Yeah. I found out Friday but wanted to surprise you.” Mellie is halfway up to standing when Smith reaches down for her and pulls her up.

As they’re embracing, I look over to see Polly wiping her eyes. I wrap an arm around her tighter, pull her closer to me, and kiss her forehead. I know she wants a baby, and I want to give her one. It’s not like we’re trying, but we’re not not trying.

When they don’t pull apart from each other, Polly looks up at me. “Maybe we should go,” she whispers.

“Oh, my God.” Mellie laughs as she pulls away from Smith. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you guys were here.”

“So you’re pregnant, then?” I stand with Polly and hug Mellie then give Smith a much manlier version. “Congrats, guys.”

“I had no idea; you’re so tiny,” Polly says to Mellie.

“Yeah, well, I very much am and have the morning sickness to prove it. But these princess cut shirts.” She lifts up the bottom of her shirt to reveal a tiny little bump in her stomach. “They hide a lot.”

“When did you find out?” I ask them but more specifically Smith.

“Um, a couple of months ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Smith and Mellie glance at each other, and I immediately feel like an asshole. They think it’s going to bring up some shit about Sophia and her pregnancy. Little do they know Polly and I have already gone through the wringer with that one. “Guys, come on. I’m so happy for you. I’m good about…” I trail off and wrap my arm around Polly’s waist. “We’re good with everything.”

I see the acceptance hit their faces when they both smile. It’s high past time for them to feel like they need to hold things back because they’re afraid of how I’ll react.

“We also got married,” Mellie whispers.

“What?” I yell unintentionally. “What the hell?”

“We didn’t want to have a baby out of wedlock, so we went to the courthouse.” Smith laughs.

“Out of wedlock, my ass. You just used it as an excuse to make it legal,” I joke with him.

He doesn’t deny it, only shrugs.

“Weren’t you drinking, Mellie?” I ask.

“No. Just carrying the glass around, and I dumped some in the sink. I’m sorry,” she says to Polly.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m so happy for you guys. We really should go and let you celebrate.”

“No, stay. Please.” Mellie points at the cake. “You guys need to help eat this; otherwise, I’m going to devour the whole thing, and I do not need that much damn cake.”

“What do you say, babe?” I ask Polly. “Want another round of dessert?”

Chapter 18

Polly

After we went to dinner at Smith and Mellie’s place last weekend, Erik and I have had a kind of weird tension in the house. Not bad necessarily, just… weird. I don’t bring it up because I’m hoping it’ll pass.

Mellie called me the day after we had dinner with them and said she happened to see an advertisement for a cooking class and wanted to know if I’d want to go with her. She knew about my lack of cooking skills since I confessed them while I watched her make the gravy. Since the class is a night I don’t work, I reluctantly agreed to go, but now that she’ll be here in fifteen minutes to pick me up, I’m actually kind of excited.

As I’m getting ready for my night out, Erik sits on the bed with his laptop, and to lighten the mood, I say, “You’d better not watch porn when I’m gone.”

He looks up from the screen. “You weren’t complaining the last time I was.”

“I was here, though, and that was just a big ploy to get in my panties because I was pissed at you.”

He cocks his head. “If you think for one second that I need porn when I have you, I clearly haven’t done my job.”

I lean against the dresser right outside the door leading to the bathroom. “Really? And what’s your job, exactly?”

“To make you feel safe and like the most loved and beautiful woman in the world.”

Somehow, he manages to go from flirty to serious, and it makes my eyes water. “You do that.”

“Then you should know I don’t need anything but you. You’re all I want, but I’m all for whatever gets you off, baby. And if watching—”

“Oh, my God, stop!” I quiver just thinking about it, but at the same time, I’m all embarrassed and stuff. I’ve never had a healthy relationship, let alone a sexual one with a man, so the intimacy with Erik alone is a lot to get used to. But then you throw in the teasing, and I disintegrate into a teenage girl.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Just being honest. Maybe we should visit a store sometime, get some toys to mess around with.”

“I thought you said all you need is me?” I raise a brow as I’m putting on my earrings.

“That’s a true statement, but you really seemed to like it when she was using a vibrator before—”

“Erik, oh my God, stop!” I plug my fingers in my ears. “La, la, la, I can’t hear you.” I run out of the room laughing, and before I even make it down the stairs, he’s caught up to me.

“What’s the matter, Polls?” He lifts me off the ground, carries me to the living room, and tosses me gently over the arm of the couch. “You gettin’ wet from thinking about it?”

“You’re such a jerk.” I intend to yell, but when he puts his hand up my skirt and touches the fabric that I know for a fact is damp, my words end on a moan.

He pushes the material of my skirt up and pulls my thong aside. I hear his pants swoosh down to the ground before he pushes into me from behind. “Does this make me a jerk?”

“Yes, ’cause I only have a few minutes before Mellie gets here, and I’m going to look like I just had sex!”

He laughs as he pulls out then slams back inside. “Yeah, you are.”

* * *

“I give up.” I toss the half burned piece of garlic bread onto the table and then cross my arms and pout like a little baby. “How do I mess up freaking bread? And when an instructor is giving me step-by-step directions to boot!”

Mellie is sitting next to me, trying not to laugh. Just like Erik tries not to laugh when I somehow manage to mess up the simplest cooking skills.

“It’s fine; you can laugh.” I blow some hair off my face and sigh. “I’m just not destined to be a chef.”

“You’ll get it eventually. I promise.” Mellie touches my arm, and I roll my eyes.

“Yeah. Okay, sure. Whatever you say.” I swallow the last of my wine from the complimentary glass I was given at the beginning of class. “Let’s get out of here; it’s making me depressed.”

We gather our stuff and thank the instructors on the way out. This was actually really fun even though I failed. Epically. I’ve never really had girlfriends… or friends, for that matter. I don’t know if I’d consider my boss, Rayne, a friend. We went out a couple of times after work for a drink, and I lost a bet and had to wear a ridiculous outfit to a bar once. I get along great with her, but it’s not like we’re best friends.

I gave up on the idea of being close to people a while ago, along with everything else. But a part of me has always wanted to have friends. It’s kind of snuck up on me tonight, and I’m pretty sure that’s why I fucked up my food since I was lost in my own thoughts the whole time I was supposed to be cooking, or learning how to, at least.

It kind of hit me like the whole having a baby thing did. But this time, I was able to not feel bitter about it. Instead, I’m choosing to enjoy this for what it is with Mellie. A friendship that will hopefully grow. And probably will because there’s a common thread between us.

Mellie and I walk out of the kitchen area and go to the bar. We’d already agreed to have a drink after since the cooking class was offered by a bar and restaurant. I order another glass of wine, and Mellie gets a lemonade.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks.

Figuring sometime during the night I would have to discuss the inevitable, I nod. “Yep. Let’s get this over with.” I laugh nervously.

“Has he tried to call you?”

I don’t need to ask who she’s referring to. “No. I don’t have a cell phone, and as soon as he went to jail, I stopped paying the phone bill to the house so I have no clue if he even tried. Did he call you?”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “But I declined it as soon as I heard it was a collect call from the jail. I feel kind of bad.”

I swirl my wine around the bowl of the glass. “Richard has written me a letter. I have it but can’t bring myself to open it. He… he was never anything but nice to me, and I know he stalked you and now he’s in jail for murder, but he treated me really good.”

“I know,” she says sympathetically.

“He found me and saved me then gave me a place to live and stability I’d never had before.” I continue to tell her about my history. Most of the stuff was a shock to her since she thought I was an ex-druggie. As I get to the end of the story, and explain how I was deposited by a dumpster like trash, tears fill her eyes. “Please don’t cry for me.” I set a hand on hers and give it a squeeze. “I’m fine now. I found Erik, and everything is fine.”

“And you have me. You have Smith. We love Erik, and by default, we love you whether you like it or not. And I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, but I didn’t know you then.”

“It’s okay. I called you a bitch, too.”

We laugh for a moment, and I take another swallow of wine.

“Are you going to read the letter?”

“I honestly don’t know.” I shrug. “Part of me feels like it’s the past, and I should forget about it.”

“But the other part…?”

“Feels like I owe it to him, for what he did for me, to at least read it. He… he stalked you, but he saved me, and it’s really hard to separate the two different personalities of him, ya know?”

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“I had no clue. I mean, sure, he was… strange. God, those damn dolls he collected. They gave me the creeps.” I laugh at the memory of how I’d avoid looking at the porcelain dolls that were all over the living room. “He worked a lot, and I guess I never knew exactly what he did because he was always kind of evasive about it. But I had a roof over my head, and he was kind to me, so I looked past a lot of the weirdness.

“When Richard got arrested, I was completely fine to live alone. I was done with men altogether. In fact, I was trying to be independent before Erik even came along. But he made me realize that taking a risk to be happy is better than being alone and just content.”

Mellie nods and pain flashes in her eyes. “Yup. Been there, lady.”

I don’t ask her story because if she wanted to share, she would. We steer the conversation away from heavy topics and enjoy a couple of hours talking about mundane things. Girly things. By the time we leave the bar, it’s almost midnight.

Erik’s waiting up for me, and when I slide into bed, he shuts the TV off. “Have a good night?”

“Yes.” I hold his hand that’s thrown over my waist. “It was fun. Well, after the cooking class, it was fun.”

“What happened at the cooking class?”

“It was awful.” I groan. “I can’t cook. It’s impossible, Erik. Somehow… some-freakin’-how I burned the bread and left the center gooey and raw at the same time. Just like the pancakes. I think it’s best I throw in the towel before I die of salmonella poisoning. Or kill someone else with it.”

His body shakes behind me, and I elbow him in the ribs. “Shut up!”

He stops moving, but I can still hear the laughter he’s trying to hold back. I begin laughing myself and roll over to my back. “You’re doomed. I’m sorry. I’ll never be the kind of wife you can come home to and expect a delicious home-cooked meal.”

The snickering from him subsides almost immediately, and he asks, “You wanna be my wife?”

“Oh, I, um… I just meant…” Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Baby, I’d love to marry you.”

I have to clear my throat before I can answer. “You would?”

“Well, yeah. Polly, I’m not gonna discuss my past and having babies with you if I wasn’t planning on being with you for a very, very long time.”

“Oh.”

“As much as I want to put a ring on it, I want there to be no doubts, no questions, and no uncertainty between us.”

“Do you think there’s uncertainty between us?”

He sighs, and I press my lips together, worried my face will show too much emotion. “I’m not uncertain about us. But I am about me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m kind of fucked up, Polls.”

“No, you’re not.”

His neck twitches, and his Adam’s apple moves slowly before he speaks again. “I don’t for one second miss when I’d binge drink, but it was a problem for me for a while. I’ve got much more at stake now with you, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. I’ve never gone this long without… and I don’t trust myself enough yet.”

“Trust yourself enough for what?”

“To promise I’ll never… That my issues won’t affect you like they did when you hurt yourself because of me.” He twines our fingers together and rubs the scar on my hand with his thumb.

“Erik, I trust you.” I promise him. “Everyone has something they’re fighting, and—”

“But it’s my problem. Not yours. And when I’m sure that I have it a hundred percent under control—”

“Where is this coming from?”

He runs his thumb along my cheek before he rolls over to his back. “Smith brought up some shit the other day.”

I knew it; I knew something was wrong since we were at their house.

“I try to tell myself that I’ll be good on my own, that I was just using it as a crutch, and that I don’t really need help. But when Smith brought it up and pointed out what happened to you because of me, I just—”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No. Smith doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to spew a bunch of shit he knows nothing about and make you doubt yourself.” I sit up and face him. Smith is trying to be a friend; just like when he told me that if I wasn’t going to stay, I needed to leave after I got back from the ER. But our relationship isn’t his business.

“I’ve always doubted myself with you, Polls. This isn’t something new.”

“For some bullshit reasons,” I argue. “You’re just using this as an excuse to try to put distance between us because you’re scared.” My brow arches in challenge.

He looks away from me thoughtfully for a couple of minutes before he gives me his attention again. “You’re right.”

Wow. “I am? I mean, I know I am.”

“It’s just that I love you so much, and I want to be everything to you.”

“You are, Erik.”

He nods and motions for me to lie with him, so I rest my head on his chest and wrap an arm around his torso. I’m not sure if he’s done talking or not, so I don’t say anything. My eyes become heavy, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up in an empty bed.

I hear the water running through the pipes and relief washes over me. Heading to the bathroom, I glance at the clock and see it’s only seven forty. When I enter the room, he greets me happily.

“Morning yourself.” I close the door behind me to keep the warmth in while I use the bathroom then wash my hands and brush my teeth. As I’m taking my hair out of its bun, he steps out and wraps a towel around his waist. Damn, I could wake up to that view every day.

There’s something I want to talk to him about, so in order to avoid distraction, I leave the bathroom and head downstairs. I take down two bowls and a couple of boxes of cereal then set them on the table with spoons and a gallon of milk.

I fill my bowl, and before putting the milk in, I grab my purse and take out what I want to show him. Just as I’m sitting down, he does too, but not before he kisses the top of my head. I pour my milk then hand him the gallon and he does the same.

I slide the letter over to him, and he pauses mid-bite. “What’s this?” Dropping his spoon back in his bowl, he reaches for it.

“I can’t bring myself to open it.”

He picks it up and glances at me before his face hardens when he reads the return address. “Want me to?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you afraid of, Polls?” He reaches for my chair, and tugs me closer so his legs are caging mine in.

This is what’s been bothering me. I don’t really know exactly what my hesitation is for. “I think maybe because I already feel guilty enough for basically abandoning him, and I don’t want to read that and have my fear confirmed.”

“Okay. First, you didn’t abandon him. He chose to do something illegal and, might I add, baby, more than one thing.”

“I know.” He apparently had a history of illegal behavior that I didn’t know about upon meeting him.

“Second, you don’t owe him shit.”

“But he save—”

“I know. Trust me. I know. And as much as I hate to, I’ve gotta give him credit for that. But the majority of people in the world would have done something to help you if they happened to cross paths with you. Maybe they wouldn’t have taken you in and given you someplace to live, but they would have called an ambulance. Then when you got better, you would have pulled yourself back up because that’s what you do. You’re strong, Polly. He helped you, yes, but he’s not the sole reason you’re here.”

“I know.”

He holds the paper between us. “Your call.”

I can’t take my eyes off Erik’s. Somehow, he just exudes this strength that I steal from him because I so desperately need it. “Read it.”

He slides his finger beneath the flap and begins to pull the letter from the envelope. “No!” I jump up and tear it from his hands. “No. I don’t want to know.” I rip it in half then in half again. I try a third time but the papers are too thick. I stomp my foot as I continue to struggle.

“Give it here.” Erik motions with his fingers, so I hand it to him. He stands and walks to the kitchen, discarding the paper into a bowl. Then he pulls a lighter from a drawer and flicks it so it sparks and the flame rises. “Last chance.”

From the other side of the kitchen island, I watch. “Burn it.”

Chapter 19

Erik

Being back at Complexity actually makes me feel better. I went to the jeweler the other day when Polly was working at the diner. I took in my mom’s wedding ring to have it cleaned and checked for loose diamonds.

I don’t know when I’m going to propose, and I’m not sure if it’s too soon, but I want to be prepared so the ring is in my pocket. Probably not the best place for a five-carat diamond to be, but I don’t want to miss an opportunity to make it special for Polly.

As I’m making my rounds in Complexity, I stop at the bar to grab a bottle of water. I drink half of it then toss the rest before checking on the VIP section. Polly seems to be having a good night, too. She wiggles her fingers at me as I walk by.

The night flies by, and after Polly and I drive home, we eat a shitty dinner, have sex, and then go to sleep. That routine continues Friday night and Saturday night. Same thing the week after, except tonight, when I walk by the VIP section, I can see the tension in Polly’s body.

I make my way to the bottom of the stairs and grab her arm as she’s coming down. “What’s up, babe?”

Her spine straightens before she fully turns to me. “Nothing.” She smiles one of the fakest smiles I’ve ever seen and clears her throat. “I’m good. Just busy.”

When she tries to walk away, I don’t let her. “Someone bothering you?”

“No. I’m fine. VIP is great. No handsy guys tonight.”

Reluctantly, I let her go but make sure to keep a close eye on her for the rest of the night. I see her at the end of the stairs a half an hour later talking to Brad and another guy. When I get closer, I realize it’s Wyatt, Brad’s asshole brother.

Not liking the prick that close to my girl, I quicken my steps and pull her back to my front the moment my fingers reach her. She grips my forearm and scoots even further into me. Yeah, not likin’ this at all. “What’s up?” I ask Brad. Last I knew, Wyatt was still pulling his usual shit.

“Nothing. Wyatt here was just leaving.”

“I’m going, brother, don’t gotta get Goliath here to remove me,” Wyatt says. He turns his attention at Polly and winks. “Always a pleasure seeing you.”

Polly’s nails dig into my skin, and as Wyatt is walking away and toward the door, her weight becomes heavier like her knees are giving out.

“He’s such an asshole,” Brad growls. “Makes me understand why Cain killed his own brother.”

“Say what?” I ask.

“From the Bible.”

I ignore Brad’s ranting and focus on Polly, who is quivering in my arms. “We’re taking a break.” Not waiting for a response, I walk with a very dazed Polly to the Brad’s office and close the door behind us. Depositing her on a chair, I kneel in front of her and hold her hands in mine. “Talk to me, baby. You’re freakin’ out.”

Her head is down, and I can’t see her face, so when I reach up and tilt her head up, the tears that are falling from her eyes shock me. She opens her mouth to talk, but her breathing so fast she can’t get a word out.

“Relax for me, honey. Take a big breath.” She doesn’t lose focus of me and copies the pattern of my breathing. My heart is breaking for her right now, and I need to figure out what happened so I can fix it. “What happened?”

“That was…” She takes a shuddery breath and closes her eyes. “That was him.”

It takes about two point five seconds for me to realize who she’s talking about. “Wyatt?”

“Yes.”

“He’s the one who fuckin’ drugged you?”

A slight nod in confirmation is all I need before I stand and tear out of the office. I’m going to kill him. I can feel it. My blood has never been hotter than it is right now, and when I get to the front door, I push it open and almost plow over Manny. Vaguely, I hear Brad calling my name, but I ignore that and look to my right and see nothing. Then to the left. Just as he rounds the corner to the parking lot, I see Wyatt.

I’m pretty sure smoke’s coming out from under my shoes as I tear off down the block. When I catch up with him, I don’t even give him a chance to defend himself. Just like he didn’t give Polly a chance either.

He turns around, and I fly through the air and land a superman punch to his face. I follow him as he’s falling but stop him from hitting the cement by fisting his hair. I land a couple of uppercuts to his gut then a knee to his balls. When I let him go, he drops to the ground.

“Get up, motherfucker,” I taunt.

He groans, and I kick him in his knee. My fists shake with my fury, and a glimpse of the dumpster crosses my vision, then I think about how he threw her next to one, like she was worthless trash.

“What’s the matter? Not so tough now, huh? Not unless it’s a woman who’s defenseless because you fucking doped her out!” I scream the last words at him and lose the patience I had for him to stand on his own. Reaching down, I pull him up and slam him against the wall, wrapping my hand around his throat.

He claws at my arm, but it only makes me squeeze harder. I think about the freaking love of my life being passed out, taken advantage of, and beaten. As his lips are turning purple, movement and footsteps to my left come into play, and a moment later, Brad is in my face trying to separate me from Wyatt. I fight Brad and push him away with my free hand, but he comes back even stronger. He’s a big dude, but I’m stronger. And more determined.

“Erik, stop!” The same arm that Wyatt is clawing at is suddenly covered with the soft and small hands of Polly. “Let him go. You’re going to kill him. Erik, stop!” She pulls on me, and when I still don’t let up, she grabs my face with her hands and forces me to look at her. “Let him go, please. I need you too much for you to go to jail.”

Like I was electrocuted, I release Wyatt. Polly wraps her arms around me and tries to push me away from him, but my feet are planted firmly in the ground. Wyatt looks up at me with blood dripping from his nose and visible bruises around his neck. “You ever come near her again, and I won’t stop.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Brad stands in front of me, blocking my view of his brother.

Polly shakes her head at Brad. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“Get him gone,” I tell Brad.

Polly and I walk inside through the back door, and I stop in the bathroom before I go meet her in the office. After I wash my hands, I splash some cold water on my face. I lean forward, resting my head against the mirror and try to focus.

I almost killed him.

That degree of rage is something I’m not sure I want to ever experience again. But when she told me he was that asshole, the one who had drugged her for months, who beat her and deposited her in an alley like trash, I lost it. Lost it all.

Her pain was my pain. And her fear… I felt it. I had to take it away. I had to protect her. I wasn’t able to back then, but just now, I buried it and left it for dead.

Just like I wasn’t able to take the pain away for my mom. I had to watch as they taunted her and hit her. Had to listen to her cries of agony, her pleading, begging. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop them.

The door opens, and Brad walks in, looking pissed off at me. “What the fuck was that? I hate him, too, but you don’t see me beating the ever loving hell out of him for it. What, did he touch Polly or something?”

I wasn’t going to give him details to respect Polly’s privacy, but that’s suddenly changed. “No, he didn’t. He drugged her for months, got her hooked on E so bad that if she didn’t have it slipped into her drink by him, she’d start to have withdrawals. Then when she finally caught him, he beat her, and threw her in a fucking alley and left her for fucking dead.”

“Erik.” Polly gasps from behind Brad.

“What?” Brad turns to Polly. “When? Is that true?”

She doesn’t give a verbal answer but nods.

“Oh my God… I had no idea. How the hell could I…? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know he was your brother until he walked in tonight. Honestly, I didn’t know anything other than his first name.”

“Polly.” Brad hugs her and kisses the top of her head. “I’m so sorry; I’m so, so sorry. I knew he was a piece of shit from the way he threatened Kenney, but I never would have thought… I can’t believe it. My God, I’m so sorry.”

As he’s talking to her, my breath has slowed down and my heart rate returned to normal, but I still feel like I’m out of my body. Brad looks over her head at me and appears absolutely dumbfounded. He pulls back from her, and she comes directly to me.

“I’m gonna head back. You guys go home and… Just, shit,” he whispers then leaves us alone.

“Let’s go.” Polly takes my hand and briefly ducks into the office to get her purse then we head out the back. When we reach the parking lot, I pull her behind me and look around. “He’s gone,” Polly tells me, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Brad said he threw him into a taxi.”

I nod and walk to my car. After we get in, I take us home where we don’t say anything to each other until after I get out of the shower and climb into bed. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“Are you?” she counters.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Me too.” She toys with her hair, and I rub her back as she’s lying next to me. “He talked to me like I was an old friend. Even tried to hug me.”

My body tenses at the thought of his hands on her.

“As soon as I saw him tonight, I really saw him for the dirt ball he was. I don’t understand how I didn’t see it before.” She blows some hair off of her face. “How can you treat somebody like he did to me and then just act like nothing happened?”

“He’s fucked up in the head, baby.”

“How could I be so stupid? Twice. Three, if you count Don. I can’t believe I fell for their shit; I’m a moron.”

“Listen to me.” I roll over to my side I make sure she hears me loud and clear. “People like that prey on others who are weak. I mean… defenseless. You’re not weak.”

“No, I was back then. I know I was. I was vulnerable, and I might not have known it then, but I know now that I was an easy target. It’s just crazy to me now, because with you, I see how it should be. I get that feeling… of what it’s really like to trust someone and know he cares about you. I just wish I would have found you earlier.”

“Me too.” I don’t disagree with her about the other stuff because I think she’s right. She was essentially tossed to the wolves without a solid upbringing at eighteen years old. Forced to navigate the world on her own, she had no guidance, no experience, and nobody to support her. And people who are cowardly pluck people like that out of a crowd. They know what they’re looking for and get some sick satisfaction in hurting others.

“You don’t ever have to worry about anybody hurting you again. I promise you that.”

* * *

The day after the incident with Wyatt is a Sunday, and since Polly stopped working Sundays so we could have the day together, I’m surprising her with a quick trip to California. Last night, after she fell asleep, the idea came to me that we needed to get away for a minute. I booked our tickets and made a hotel reservation. I’ve made all the arrangements with Rayne for Polly to have a few days off. We’ll be back by the time we need to go to Complexity on Thursday.

Currently, I’m waiting for her to wake up. I want to show her some things. Want to show her where I came from. And I want her to meet a couple of people.

Polly’s soft footsteps come down the stairs, and when she gets to the bottom, she shyly smiles at me. “Hi.”

“Morning.” When she doesn’t greet me like she normally does with a bright smile and a kiss, I go to her and pull her in my arms. “You okay?” She had a nightmare shortly after we fell asleep and though she didn’t discuss it, I’m sure it had something to do with what happened.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Umm, you beat the shit out of Wyatt last night.” She takes a step back. “And I’ve never seen you like that.”

“I’m good as long as you are.”

“Then we’re good.” She dips her head and goes to the fridge.

“So what do you think about going on a vacation for a couple of days?”

Her head peeks out from the top of the fridge door. “A vacation?”

“Yeah. I thought we could go to Cali. I want to show you something.”

Her eyes light up, and she kicks the door shut with her foot, carries over some juice, and sets it on the table. “I mean, of course I’d want to go, but we have these things called jobs.”

“It’s already taken care of.”

“Erik,” she scolds.

“Listen. We need a damn reset. Enough shit has happened between us to write an entire screenplay. I just want a couple of days where we can be us. Where we can have fun and forget about it all.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Chapter 20

Polly

The leather airplane chair I’m in is more comfortable than any cushion my ass has ever sat on. When we walked onto the plane and turned into the first class section, I about pissed my pants. This is the first time I’ve flown, and Erik’s been super patient every time I freak out when there’s a bump.

We’re descending now, and my hand is firmly squeezing Erik’s thigh. He’s got an arm around my shoulder and my face is pressed into his neck. The wheels touch solid ground, and I hold my breath.

“Breathe, Polls. It’s fine. We landed.”

Kind of amazes me how this man can go from vicious protector to calm safety net in the blink of an eye.

“Okay, okay.” I sit up and try to relax while we wait to get off the airplane. When he proposed the idea this morning, I was reluctant to miss more work, but I also know Rayne is an amazing boss who wouldn’t hesitate to give me time off.

We’ll be back by the time we need to go to Complexity, Erik tells me, but even if we weren’t, I have a feeling Brad would be more than willing to accommodate us. He called this morning apologizing up and down again. I tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault because he has no control over his brother’s actions, but he doesn’t see it that way.

Brad always thought his brother had a problem but wasn’t able to confirm it until last night. I hate that this happened. I hate that Brad found out the ugly truth. I hate even more that whatever happened with my past puts any sort of strain on anybody’s life.

Erik and I walk off the airplane and head to grab our luggage. I smile to myself and try to enjoy our time together. I’m eager to see where Erik grew up. I won’t let Wyatt fuck that up, and I won’t let any of my other shit ruin this. Erik is right. In the short time we’ve been together, we’ve had obstacles and setbacks—most of which have been our own doings—but now that we’ve worked out our issues, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anything get in the way of my relationship with this wonderful man.

I spot our luggage right away, and after gathering it, we head outside. I don’t even ask him where we’re going or how we’re getting there because I know he already took care of it. Like he takes care of me.

When he walks directly to a limo, the man waiting smiles. “Look at you.” He hugs Erik who reciprocates. I see how tight Erik is squeezing the guy, and I know there’s gotta be a story behind it. “Good to see ya, bud.” The man steps back, and Erik turns to me.

“Chris, this is my girl, Polly. Polly, this is Chris.”

“Nice to meet you,” Chris says, holding his hand out.

“Same to you.” I shake his hand and giggle when he kisses my knuckles.

Erik jokingly pulls my arm away. “You have a woman, you dirty old man.”

They both chuckle, and Chris takes my small purple suitcase, courtesy of Erik, and puts it in the trunk. After Erik and I get in the limo, Chris shuts the door and pulls away. I lean in to my man, loving the more relaxed side of him. Chris’s eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, and he winks at me.

We drive for a little while, and I must have dozed off because Erik’s lips to my ear wake me up. “We’re here.”

I sit up and look around. We’re in front of a hotel building, and when the door is opened, the sunshine is nearly blinding. Chris holds his hand out, and I take it as I step onto the concrete. Erik isn’t far behind, and before the bags are even out of the trunk, a young guy comes up and takes our bags.

“Tomorrow at four, still?” Chris asks.

Erik nods. “Yup. Thanks.”

“Have a good evening. Nice meeting you, young lady.”

“You too. Thanks.”

I’m so busy trying to take in my surroundings that I don’t even realize we’re walking until the chilly air conditioning hits me. I look up and up and up at the ceiling in the hotel and am amazed at how nice the lobby is. When I see the name of the hotel, I pull at Erik’s sleeve. “Is this the Pretty Woman hotel?”

He raises a brow. “Huh?”

“You know? The Beverly Wilshire.”

“That’s this hotel, yeah. Don’t know about Pretty Woman.”

I walk away from him and check out some brochures on a rack and am giddy to find that I am correct. I can’t believe I’m here, especially since a part of me always secretly wanted the fairy-tale ending I gave up on a long, long time ago. I laugh to myself; I guess I have that with Erik, after all.

“Ready?” He walks up to me and holds up a key card.

“Yeah.”

My expression of awe reflects in the gold elevator door. I’ve never been in a building this fancy. The damn floor number buttons probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. This is definitely a place I don’t belong, and as much as I try to act natural, I know I look like a fish out of water.

We’re escorted to a room where the bellboy opens the door for us and sets the suitcases down. Erik shakes hands with him, and I get a brief view of some cash sliding between them.

“Are you hungry?”

I’m too busy walking around to notice that we’re alone when Erik comes behind me and wraps his arms around me. “I’m kind of shocked, Erik.”

“Why?”

I separate myself from him and hold my arms out. There’s an entire seating area with leather couches. A TV almost the size of a movie theater screen and a full-size kitchen. With stainless steel appliances. “Hello? This is insane.”

His face reddens, and he hangs his head, embarrassed almost.

“Hey.” I put my hand on his cheek. “It’s fine. I’m just… this is unexpected. I know your mom was a movie star, but this is surreal.”

“We should talk.” He raises his head and kisses my cheek. “I’ll order some room service. Why don’t you get comfy? Maybe turn on a movie or something.”

“Okay.” He watches my face a second before he turns and grabs the hotel phone.

While he’s ordering room service, I grab my suitcase and wander around until I find a room I’m assuming is a bedroom. The room is so expansive, the white four-post bed that’s gotta be a California King barely consumes any space. I let go of the suitcase and slide my feet across the soft carpet until I reach the warm tiled bathroom.

“Jesus,” I whisper to myself. This looks even bigger and better than it did in the movie. The tub is practically calling my name, and I hope I can use it before we leave. As I’m looking around, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Yeah, I need to freshen up.

Once I locate my makeup bag in my suitcase, I touch up my makeup then change into a pair of shorts and a hoodie. When I make my way back into the living room—seriously, it’s like a house, not a hotel room—Erik is sitting on the couch and flipping through the channels on the TV. “Food’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

“Okay.” I sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around me, and his fingers play with my hair. The happiness and excitement from when I first arrived are slowly waning, and in their place, nervousness is taking shape. Erik is silent and finally settles on some old movie. I don’t want to say something and make the quiet worse, so when there’s a knock on the door, I’m thankful for the interruption.

I stay put, but Erik gets up and gets the food. He wheels in a big cart full of covered plates, and when he stops in front of me, he finally talks. “I want to get this out of the way now and then move on so it’s a non-issue.”

“Get what out of the way?”

“The money talk.” He sighs, and I’m shocked at how embarrassed he appears. “Obviously, you know who my mom was. And you’ve got an idea of who my dad was.”

“Okay.”

“I own fifty-one percent of his protection firm.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that.” It’s still strange to me knowing who his mom was and learning about this side of his life.

“Well, just know you never have to worry about money, okay? If you never wanted to work, you wouldn’t have to. If you wanted to travel around the world, I’d take you. But I know you, and I know how stub—independent you are, and it’s one of the things I love about you.”

I roll my eyes at him playfully then grab a French fry from a plate to nibble on. “I’m not stubborn.”

“I didn’t say stubborn; I said independent.”

“Whatever.”

“Just rest assured I’ll always be able to take care of you, okay?”

Instead of arguing or trying to assert said independence, I only nod.

“Good.” He reaches over and grabs a plate with a burger on it.

* * *

“Wake up, Polly,” says the raspy voice of my man; the same raspy voice that whispered nasty, nasty things into my ear last night. Then again at one in the morning. Needless to say, I didn’t have a nightmare.

“I’m too tired,” I groan. “You wore me out.”

He chuckles, the whiskers of his facial hair tickling my neck as he kisses his way down. “We need to get going. I want to show you something.”

That sparks my interest. I sit up and look around the dark room in confusion. “What time is it?”

“Four in the morning.”

“What in the world…?” As I try to lie back down, Erik grabs me and the covers at the same time, tossing them to the ground and lifting me off the bed.

“You can sleep later, baby. We don’t have much time, so we’ve gotta get going.”

“Where are we going?”

He pushes me into the bathroom. “It’s a surprise. Just take a piss or whatever you’ve gotta do; I’ve already got us packed.”

“You do?” I lean on the countertop and yawn.

Erik reaches in and pulls me up. “Lazy pants. Come on, woman!” He slaps my ass, and I yelp, rubbing the sore spot.

Once he’s out of sight, I shut the door and quickly use the toilet while I know he’s out of earshot. I throw my hair up in a bun, brush my teeth with the disposable toothbrush left for me, and then meet him by the door, where he’s waiting with our bags.

“Where are we going?” I ask again as he opens the door for me and ushers me to the elevator.

He presses the button and the door almost immediately opens and a bellhop steps out and attempts to take the bags from Erik. “I’ve got ’em, man.”

The three of us step onto the elevator, and I feel a little awkward with the other guy in with us, so I don’t continue to push Erik for answers. When we get to the first floor, we step out, and Erik takes my hand as we walk outside. Chris stands there by a limo, and when he sees us, he opens the door.

“Good morning, Polly. Erik.” He smiles then takes the bags from Erik. I get in the vehicle with Erik close behind.

“Where are we going?”

His smirk is irritating and makes me want to smack it right off him. “Patience, beautiful.”

I choose to look out the window to see if I can figure it out, but as we’re flying through the city, I’m just as clueless as when I sat down. The buildings begin to get farther apart, and trees become more prominent.

Pretty soon, we’re in what I think is a residential area, but since it’s still kind of dark, I can’t really tell. When we stop, I reach for the handle and push the door open. My feet hit the pavement, and I immediately smell something unfamiliar. Clean… salty, almost.

Erik comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. “Ever been to the ocean?”

“That’s where we are? The ocean?” Any tiredness I felt is long gone, overrun with excitement.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He takes my hand, and we walk to the front porch of a beautiful white house where he punches a code into a keypad then opens the door.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but a super homey, almost country themed space wasn’t it. “Whose house is this?”

“I couldn’t get it ready in time for us to come yesterday, so that’s why we went to the hotel. This is my family’s beach house.” As soon as he says the words, I notice the photos on the wall.

I walk closer to them and have to blink back tears. Erik, young and free with his parents. So many photos of the three of them. One with him on his dad’s shoulders, one where his mom is on Erik’s back. All them on the beach, in the water, around a fire. So many memories.

“Come on. I don’t want to miss it.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder then steers me in the opposite direction of where we came in.

When we turn the corner, I’m struck still by the sight before me. “Oh, my God.” I turn to him. “It’s beautiful.”

A shy smile lights up his face. “Let’s go outside.”

I follow him through the kitchen and when we reach the deck, he stops.

“Can we go on the sand?”

“Of course.” He grabs a blanket off a chair. “Gotta take your shoes off, babe.” He kicks his tennies off, and I do the same with my flats.

When my toes hit the cool sand, I giggle. “It tickles.”

We get closer to the shoreline, and he lays the blanket down then sits, keeping his knees propped. I take my place between them.

As the sun rises, the entire ocean has an orangey tint to it. Nothing for miles ahead but water. I’ve never seen something so beautiful before. I’m completely mesmerized. I can’t take my eyes off the scenery before me.

It’s stunning. I never imagined that I would be in California. On a private beach. With the son of a movie star. Dreams weren’t ever something I had because I knew they wouldn’t come true. But this… this is something more than a dream. It’s a fairy tale.

Chapter 21

Erik

“What are you doing out here by yourself, son?”

I don’t bother turning around when my dad talks to me. It’s eleven thirty at night and well past my bedtime, so I’m sure he’s going to just tell me to go back to bed. But I can’t sleep. I’m so confused. “Just thinking.”

Dad sits in the patio chair next to me. From the side of my eyes, I can see him looking out at the ocean, too. It’s really calm tonight. The moon reflects on the water, making it look like glass.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks after a few minutes.

“Nothing.” I sigh.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to have you out here past your bedtime. Especially when you’re alone and I didn’t know where you were.”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see. “You always know where me and Mom are.” I don’t know how he does it, but I always feel some sense of security knowing that he keeps tabs on me.

“It’s my job,” he replies simply.

“How did you and Mom meet?”

I turn my head to look at him and almost regret that I did. He’s got that… look on his face. All weird smile and eyes that get this weird brightness to them whenever he’s around or talks about Mom. “I didn’t know who my new assignment was, but when I walked into the meeting room, I about fell to the ground.”

“Why? You’re the strongest guy I know.”

“Because your mother is my weakness. She’s my strength. She’s everything. And all it took was that single glance to know I was done for. She became more than a job. In the ring, I faced opponents who wanted to disconnect my brainstem from my spinal cord, and I never got nervous. I’ve been responsible for guarding people who have had hits ordered against them.

“In all those moments, I never felt fear like I did, knowing I was responsible for keeping your mother safe. Then you were born and those same fears intensified tenfold. Not a day goes by that I don’t make it my life’s mission to keep you two safe. In order to do that, I need to know where you are. If something happened to either of you…” He shakes his head but doesn’t finish the sentence.

“There’s a girl in my class who wants me to be her boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raises a brow and smiles.

“Yeah, but I don’t like her.”

“Why not?”

This is why I’m out here thinking. And it’s why I’m confused. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Surely, there’s a reason.”

I stand and lean on the railing. “She’s nice. Pretty. She’s kind of funny, too. But I just don’t want to be her boyfriend. And when I told her that, she called me a jerk and started crying then ran away. I feel bad. I didn’t want to make her sad, but I just… I don’t want to be her boyfriend. And you always told me that unless it’s a law, I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

Dad gets up, too, and stands next to me. I look up at him. He’s so tall and so strong. Like a superhero. I hope to be just like him when I get older.

“You still don’t have to, E. If you only like this girl as a friend, then that’s all she needs to be. Just because she has feelings for you doesn’t mean you’re obligated to reciprocate.”

“I just feel bad.”

“Is there someone else you like instead of her?”

“No, not really.”

He clasps his hand on my shoulder. “I ain’t gonna bullshit you, son. One thing you’ll learn as you grow up is that sometimes women will throw themselves at you. As a man, you have to be the one to take charge of the situation. You make it clear you’re not interested and don’t lead anyone on, especially for your own gain. You get me?”

I nod even though I don’t really get it, but I don’t want to seem like a baby to him. Not when he’s talking to me like I’m an adult.

“I ain’t raising you to be disrespectful to any woman. So no matter what she promises, if you aren’t wanting to be with her for the right reasons, don’t make her think you’re interested.”

“What’re the right reasons?”

“You feel something for her. Or think you may feel something, so you want to get to know her better. Not because you think she can do something for you or because she makes you feel guilty that you didn’t pick her.”

I nod my head in understanding. “What if I am interested?”

He laughs. “Well, if you are, then you take care of her. That means you open her door, you keep a hand on her, and don’t lose sight of her when you’re in public; you treat her with respect.”

“Well, duh.”

“There will be one, though. The moment you see her, your world will stop. When you find her, don’t let her go, son. It might be a fight to get her, but I guarantee, once you have her, it’ll be the absolute best decision you make in your entire life.”

With a squeeze of my neck, he walks away. After I hear the door close, I stare back out at the ocean and wonder if I’ll ever find someone to love as much as he loves my mom.

* * *

As I sit on the beach with Polly in my arms, I know that this is what my dad was talking about. I’ve realized for a while that she’s my one. I never forgot that conversation I had with my dad but I gave up the possibility for a while there.

The moment I’ve been waiting for has finally presented itself.

“You wanna get married?”

“What?” A chuckle mixes in with her response.

“I’m serious, baby.”

I shift a little and dig into my pocket to pull out the ring. I slide my hand down Polly’s left arm until I reach her hand resting on my knee, and then I slide the ring onto her finger. She stiffens and the rise and fall of her chest momentarily pauses before the pace increases.

“That was my mother’s. I’ve had it tucked away for so long that I almost forgot where I hid it.” She holds up her hand, and we both admire the sparkling ring.

“Erik…”

“You don’t have to answer me right now. You can keep the ring on or take it off or give it back. I’m not pressuring you or wanting you to feel obligated, but I’ve waited a long time to feel what I do for you. Life is precious and love isn’t guaranteed, so I’m embracing both while I’m still lucky enough to have them. To have you.”

Her long pause makes me nervous, but I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure her, but of course, I want her to say yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Make babies, have some semblance of the happy that we both missed out on.

“Why?” She turns around and sits between my propped legs. “Why me, Erik?”

“You’re you.”

A soft smile lights up her face. “I’m nothing. I don’t—”

“You’re not nothing, Polly.”

“I’m serious. I don’t have anything to offer. Barely enough money to pay my bills. No family. I have very little experience outside my little bubble. It’s just… You have so much. You come from a famous family, loving grandparents; you have friends, you’re talented, and I’m just… me.” She shrugs and looks down at her finger.

“You being you is all I need. It’s more than I deserve, and it’s what makes me want to be better. You might not think you’re worth much, but to me, you’re everything. And for as long as you’ll have me, I’m going to prove how special you are and hope that you’ll start to realize how right I am.”

The sun has risen by now, and the brightness in the sky illuminates the shimmer in her eyes. She looks down and wipes at the tears as they fall. As much as I want to kiss them away, I give her the space she needs.

Her head rises, and she smiles. “I want to marry you.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath, but at her words, I exhale and pull her to me, rolling us to our sides. “Yeah?”

“Yes. I really do. I love you, Erik. So much.”

“Love you too, Polly. In a way I never thought was possible. In a way I know is forever.” I pause and take her hand in mine, twisting the ring back and forth. “In the same way my father loved my mother.”

She puts her right hand at the back of my neck and pulls me closer. Our lips touch and years of doubt fade. Decades of unease slip away. I stand and hold my hand out to her, and when she puts it in mine, I pull her up. “We’ve got lots of privacy, but not enough for me to lay you out and take your clothes off. Nobody’ll ever see you like that but me.”

“Fine by me.” She laughs a little and bumps into me.

“Good.” I slide open the door and usher her inside first. Once I’m in behind her, I close and lock it, then bend down and pick her up.

The laughter that comes from her when I swing her into my arms is a welcome and calming sound. But not the one I need to hear right now. With a little more force than I intended, I slam her against the wall. She shrieks and I hold her still with my hips then rip her shirt off. When my intention is clear, a slight hint of pink brightens her skin.

“Wanted to try to do this slow, but I can’t.” Through her bra, I suck her tits into my mouth and push into her to get her off before I fuck her.

She pulls at the material of my shirt, and I separate enough for her to take it off then I go back to feasting on her. When the material is soaking and her nipples are hard little pebbles, I blow on them and she arches her back.

I set her on her feet and grab her bottoms and slide them down as I’m dropping to my knees. My finger hooks into the side of her panties, and I pull it aside just enough to suck her throbbing clit into my mouth.

“Fuck.” She grips my hair, and I use my other hand to tease her opening. The wetness drips down my finger, and when she’s pulling at my hair so hard it burns my scalp, I slide two fingers inside her tight pussy.

She immediately clamps down around me, and I thank the heavens above because I can’t wait any longer. Her legs shake and her head is thrown back in ecstasy as I rip her panties in half then take my dick out and lift her limp body again.

The moment her back meets the wall, I’m balls deep and fucking her like my life depends on it. Her nails dig into my shoulders and sweat drips into the indentations, making a burn that’s never felt so good. “Fuckin’ love you, Polly.”

“Love you, too,” she mumbles.

I lift her hips out, and she moves her hands from my back and slaps her palms against the wall.

“I won’t let you fall, baby, but I’m about to come, and I want you to come with me.” Her eyes are wide with curiosity, but when I slide inside and hit the spot, they roll back in her head, and she tightens around me. “Come for me. Let me fuckin’ hear you.”

Hitting the sensitive and soft tissue again, she comes undone, screaming profanities that I feel in my dick and taking me over the edge right along with her. The pictures on the wall shake, but all I care about right now is feeling this with her. With my fiancée. My whole goddamned world is in my hands right now, and she’s the only one who’s ever made me feel this intensity. This good. This steady.

Chapter 22

Polly

As I wait for Erik to get out of the shower, I lift my hand and admire the ginormous rock on my finger. I feel horrible because I wasn’t more enthusiastic when he proposed, but I really was elated. My heart was screaming to say yes, but my brain was putting up a roadblock.

It’s not like I think I don’t deserve happiness, but I worry that Erik’s going to realize how much better he is after a little while. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a while now. But the way he shows me, the way he tells me how much he cares, just chips away at my insecurities more and more each day.

I sit up and look around the room, one which I haven’t really spent the time to take in. My eyes roam around and stop on nothing. It’s so bare. Empty. I didn’t even notice there were no pictures on the walls. No decorative chair in the corner or no decorations on the dresser.

Was this his room as a child? His parents’ room? Has it always been this… lonely?

“What are you thinking about, Polls?” Erik emerges, and his voice startles me since I’m so deep in thought about this room. I don’t want to insult him because maybe he likes it like this. But thinking about what his house in Pleasant Valley looks like, I don’t think that’s the case. Yes, I could tell his home was definitely occupied by a man, but it at least had a little character.

I look at him just as he pulls a t-shirt on. “Nothing.”

“Liar.” He grabs his wallet and cell phone from the top of the bare dresser. “I can’t tell if you’re pissed at something or still dazed from the orgasms I just gave you.”

I grab the pillow beneath me and toss it at him, but he easily deflects it and laughs.

“If you must know, I was neither.” When I get up to make my way to the shower, he reaches out and hooks an arm around my waist, pulling my back to his chest.

“If you were neither of those, then what is it?” His hand glides up my stomach, and when he reaches the underside of my breast, I give in.

“Whose room is this?”

The moment the words are out of my mouth, he drops his hand and steps back. “Go take your shower, babe. I’ll make us some breakfast.”

I want to force him to tell me, but I know he will on his own time. He hasn’t said as much, but I know bringing me here is a big deal. So I go against my instincts and hop in the shower to clean up then meet him downstairs when I’m finished. His back is to me, but when I walk into the kitchen, he turns and glances at me.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low as he talks to the person on the phone. “Fuck.” His eyes don’t leave mine, but his words are directed at the person on the other end of his cell. “I’ll figure it out and let you know.”

A knock on the door causes me to jump about four feet, and Erik smirks as he ends his call. “It’s just Chris; he brought my Jeep. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” He pulls a chair out at the small buffet table and nods at it then walks down the hallway where I hear a door open and the murmurs of two male voices.

The view mesmerizes me, and I walk closer to the door instead of the table. I thought Lake Michigan was beautiful… but it doesn’t have anything on the damn Pacific Ocean. One of my foster homes was a couple of blocks away from a beach, and oftentimes, I’d walk down there to get away from the chaos of living with random kids and a set of ‘parents’ who really just wanted the money from the state.

“You hungry?” Erik’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I make my way to the table.

“Yeah. What did you make?”

“Not much.” He sets a bowl of cut up fruit, a bowl of eggs, a plate of toast, and a plate with sausage and bacon in the middle of the table.

It consumes almost all the surface area, and I laugh. “Where are we supposed to eat?”

“I didn’t realize there was so much.”

“Ya think?” I hop off the stool and grab an empty plate then begin filling it up. “Wanna go outside?”

“Yeah. That sounds great.” Erik loads up his plate, too, and we make our way to the patio. We sit on the steps, and I prop my plate on my thighs.

In the distance, I can hear kids screaming and the sound of laughter. I glance around to find the source of the noise. “Do you know your neighbors?”

“Kind of. Enough to wave when we pass but not enough to remember the kids’ names.”

“Hmm.” I chew on a piece of bacon.

“We were in my parents’ room.”

Not expecting the admission, I almost choke on my bacon, but Erik pats my back.

“I’m good.” After clearing my throat, I ask, “Is it hard for you to be in there?”

“Yeah. I had the entire room stripped and all new furniture added. I did the same to my childhood room but left the guest room the same. Kind of took me off guard when you asked, but I should have known you’d notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How … lifeless the house seems.” He shrugs and shovels the last bite of his food into his mouth.

“Not the whole house, just the room. It’s empty.”

After setting his plate on the step at his feet, he turns to me. “I want to take you somewhere today. Well, two places, really.”

“Okay.” I’m excited to see where we go.

* * *

When we end up at a cemetery, I kind of wish I would have asked what our destination was. Erik stops his four-door Jeep and shuts the engine off. Wordlessly, he gets out and walks around to me then opens the door and helps me down.

His hand in mine leads the way, and I bite my lip to halt the questions from coming out of my mouth.

“Smith always asked me where I’d go when I disappeared. He usually thought I was off on a bender somewhere, which was the case sometimes. But most of the time, I was here. If I wasn’t working, I’d come here to visit them.” He stops in front of two large gravestones and nods at them. “I’d stay at the beach house alone,” he adds. “Then I’d come here.”

He sets his hand atop a stone.

Mae Marie Anderson

Loving wife and mother

“It wasn’t until after Sophia that I had the courage to come and talk to them.” His hand moves to the slightly larger stone.

Andreas “Ace” William Anderson

Devoted husband and father

“To ask for forgiveness.” He turns toward me and sets his hand, now cold from the cement block, on the side of my face. “And when I met you, when I realized what I really felt for you, everything made sense. I understood my father’s last words; I got that he wasn’t really disappointed in me, but in himself for putting that kind of responsibility on me. I was just a kid.” He drops his hand and his head.

“You were.” I love that he’s not holding himself accountable.

“Chris was sick that night. For about the only time in his life, he was fighting the stomach flu. I remember him coming into the kitchen with a barf bag in his hand. My mom took one look at him; he was pale, almost looked green, and she shooed him away, but he refused to leave.” He laughs. “She had to call my dad and get him to order Chris to leave.

“They didn’t intend to kill my mom. All they wanted was to steal her jewelry and break into the safe. They taunted her for a bit, fucked with her and threatened a bunch of shit. It was when they threw her, and she hit her head on the coffee table. That was what killed her. When my dad shot himself, the noise alerted Chris that something was wrong. He found me. Them. He found us all.”

My heart breaks a little more every time I hear his story. Every time I learn more details. Words won’t help him. Doesn’t matter what I say, nothing can make him feel better about it. So I do the only thing I know how. I wrap my arms around him and hold him as tight as I can.

“Somehow they got to the front door, so I assumed they’d already been through security at the gate. It was stupid of me to open it. I thought they were delivering something. Chris blames himself just as much, if not more than I do. We still fight about it to this day, but I hope there will come a time that we both can think about my parents without the first thought being their death.”

“I hope that, too.”

He kisses the top of my head, and we stand just like this for a little while. I truly feel honored that he brought me here and shared this with me. The vibration from his phone interrupts our moment, and he sighs before pulling it out of his back pocket.

“Shit. I gotta take this, baby.”

He answers his call and walks away a few feet while I take a seat on the bench directly across his parents’ graves. I can’t hear any actual words, but I can definitely sense an angry tone in his voice. When he comes back and stands in front of me, it’s more than apparent I’m correct. His jaw’s clamped tight, and he shoves his phone into his pocket with so much force I’m surprised the denim doesn’t rip. “Gotta head to The Firm for a bit.”

“The Firm?” I ask as I stand.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate but takes my hand and leads me back to his Jeep. Once inside, he drives with ease, and about forty minutes later, we pull up to a run-down building. A press of a button and the brick splits in half and becomes two doors that are opening. “What the hell?”

“Indoor parking garage.”

He drives in, and I absorb the steel and metal. Black vehicles line either side, and Erik backs into a space. I jump when he opens my door, too busy to even notice that he got out of the vehicle. He takes my hands in his. “You okay?”

“Uh.” I give a shake of my head. “Where are we, exactly?”

“You’re at the best damn protection firm in the country,” a loud voice booms, and Erik’s face lights up.

“You mean the world?” Erik turns and shakes hands with a man who looks straight out of an action movie. Short buzzed hair, black t-shirt, black cargo pants, black boots, and a pair of aviators hooked onto the neck of his shirt.

“Now that you’re back, it is.” He pats Erik’s back then looks at me. “You must be Polly.”

My face must register my surprise because he laughs. “You think big man here would keep you a secret?”

“What?”

“He’s not going to hide someone as pretty as you.”

“Watch yourself, Royce,” Erik warns as he gives me a gentle tug so I hop out of the Jeep. He throws his arm around me. “Polly, Royce. Royce, Polly.”

I shake Royce’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same.” He nods. “Everyone’s waitin’ for ya whenever you’re ready.” When he turns around and walks away, I notice a gun tucked into the back of his pants.

Erik waits until he’s out of listening range. “Royce has only been with us for a little while, just turned nineteen, but the kid’s sharp as a tack. He’s got some issues he’s working through and some growing up to do before he goes into solo protection.”

“I’m so confused right now,” I tell Erik.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I haven’t gone into detail about this much. I promise I’ll give you more details later.” He takes my hand in his and leads me through the industrial garage and down a hallway. When we reach a door, he turns the knob and pushes it open. “I’ve got something to take care of really quick, and then we’ll talk some more, okay?”

“Okay.” I follow him into an office and take in the photos. “Is that the president?” I shriek the words the moment my eyes hit a photo on the wall. “And that’s Hunter Dean!” Hunter is a super famous actor.

“Yeah. I told you I took some jobs every once in a while.” He shrugs. “I’ve lived here more than The Valley the past six-ish years until I met you.”

I have to remember he comes from a famous family, so to him, this isn’t a big deal. I’ve also just realized I’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg with this man. I have so much more to discover under the surface.

“This is my office. Make yourself at home. There’s not much in here, but here.” He hands me his phone. “You can mess around on that while I’m gone. The fridge is stocked, and the cabinet above it has a bunch of food. I’ll be back shortly.” He kisses me before he leaves and closes the door behind him.

I’m left to wander around the room and stare at the photos. There’s one of him and his father. He looks so much like him it’s almost scary. Erik is about ten or eleven, I’d guess. He’s standing next to his dad with his arms crossed, copying his dad’s pose. They’re both dressed like Royce is, and it’s the most adorable thing ever.

There are more photos of celebrities and a couple of Erik and his parents. I sit in his desk chair, which is super comfy, and scroll through his phone but quickly realize I don’t really know how to work any of the buttons.

There is a knock on the door, and before I have a chance to say anything or get up, it’s swung open. I was halfway out of the seat, but when I see who it is, I fall back down.

“Hey. Erik around?” Hunter Dean. Hunter fucking Dean asks me. Me.

“Uh,” I stutter.

“Uh. He around or not?” he snaps.

“He’s in a meeting.”

“Fuck.” He runs his hands through his hair, his shoulder-length signature blond hair. “I’ll just wait here.”

“Oh, I don’t know if he—”

“Well, I do know, and he’ll want to see me.”

Wow, this guy’s a douche canoe. His public persona is way different than this pompous attitude.

“Get me a water while I wait,” he says as he’s looking at his phone.

Now, I’m very easy going and I don’t usually let things get to me, but something about the assumption that I’m here to serve him rubs me the wrong way. I worked too hard in my life to be treated like trash, even by a rich ass movie star. “I don’t work for Erik.”

“And I care because?” God, the audacity. He doesn’t even look up from his phone to insult me.

“The fridge is over there. If you want something, you can get it yourself.” I lean back in the chair and flip through the phone again even though I have no clue what I’m doing. Just to have something to do with my hands.

I hear movement but don’t give him the satisfaction of looking up. However, when his face looms above me, I have no choice but to crane my neck. “Listen, bitch. I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better realize who I am real fast beca—”

He stops talking when his head is yanked back and his face slammed against the desk. “Hunter Dean, is that any way to talk to Erik’s fiancée?” Royce says as his eyes are assessing me. For being so young, he certainly acts like a much older man.

Below him, Hunter struggles to get up, but Royce holds him down with ease. “Fuck, man. I didn’t know.”

“Even if she wasn’t, you think that’s how you talk to a lady? Think you can come in here and disrespect a woman like that by gettin’ up in her face?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Erik’s angry voice fills his office, and Royce winks at me.

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know who she was. I thought she was your secretary or some shit.” Hunter’s voice has taken on a higher pitch.

A couple of other guys, each scarier than the last, stand outside Erik’s door with amused looks on their faces as they watch the drama unfold.

“Let him up,” Erik demands as he steps fully in the room and next to me. “You okay?”

I nod, unable to actually form a word at the moment since I’m surrounded by so much testosterone it’s practically choking me.

“Thought I made it clear last time, Hunt. We will not be providing our services to you anymore. You are not welcome here, and you definitely do not have the privilege of walking into this building, into my office, and speaking to my woman.”

This side of him is one that I’ve been embarrassed to admit that I really, really like. So yeah, kind of melting a little as he speaks.

“Erik, man. Come on.”

“No. You lied to me, Hunter.”

“I had to!” he yells. All the other men tense up as Hunter’s anger escalates, and Erik takes a step closer to me. “I had to. My agent told me I needed to clean up my image. I didn’t think it’d go bad.”

Royce laughs, and Erik shoots him with a look clearly meant to tell him to shut the fuck up. “You seem to think I give a shit, Hunt.”

“Come on, Erik.” Hunter shifts nervously. “Nobody else will help me.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”

Erik looks at me then at Royce. “Can you finish giving Polly the tour?”

Royce nods. “Yup.”

“Go on with him, baby. I’ll find you in a minute.” He holds his hand out for me. I take it, and he kisses me gently on the lips before patting my ass as I walk out.

Chapter 23

Erik

Once Royce walks out, Gio and Carter silently ask me if they should stay. I shake my head at them, and they close the door. Once it clicks, I give my attention back to Hunter.

He swallows and holds his hands out. “I’m really sorry, Erik. I was out of line. I just—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass. I told you, Hunter, from the beginning, before you even signed the contract, that in order for us to do our jobs, we needed the absolute truth from you. Not only for your own protection but for my guys, too.”

“I swear that was the only thing I lied about.”

“It was one thing too many. Jesus, Hunter. You staged a robbery. For what? So you could look like the fuckin’ hero.”

“Yes.” He hangs his head. “That’s exactly what I did. After the drunk driving last year and the sex tape earlier this year, my agent told me I needed to do something to get the public talking about me doing good.”

I rub the back of my neck, still dumbfounded that this guy is so damn stupid. “Wes is good. You know that. But you put him in a situation that he never should have been. Not only would I never want to have you as a client because you lied, but not one of my guys will want to protect you ever again.”

“I’ll pay you double,” he pleads.

“No.” I open the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got other business.”

He stomps his feet as he walks out. I shake my head at his childish behavior and follow him to the front door where Gio is. He pushes the door open, and Hunter bumps into him as he makes his way through. Gio steps in the direction Hunter is going.

“Leave him, Gio. He’s not worth it.”

“I hate that fucker.” The door shuts, and Gio walks away.

Voices from down the other hallway make my feet turn in that direction. Normally, we have a receptionist, but she quit the other day when her boyfriend’s job transferred to Florida. So when we saw Hunter from the monitor when he walked in, we finished up and went to deal with him. I made the mistake of turning my back to the camera, but I really didn’t think he’d be so stupid as to be a dick to Polly.

That’s why Royce got there before I did. He saw him walk into my office where Polly was and took off. Reasons like that are part of why we hired on Royce at such a young age. He’s got a natural instinct which is something that you can’t teach. Naturally, we all followed him to my office. People like Hunter Dean are the worst part of this business. Then again, they’re why we’re in business in the first place, but still. Not all celebrities are pricks. When we get hired, it’s usually because there’s a problem and our clients trust us to take care of them, so they’re usually more than accommodating and respectful to me and my guys.

As I get to the end of the hallway, I hear Polly laughing and know that Royce is layin’ on his charm. He’s got a way with the ladies, for sure. I’ve seen grandmas turn into little schoolgirls in front of him.

“He did not.” Polly giggles.

“He did. Your man is a regular old Casanova.”

Ugh. I know exactly what story he’s telling her. I’m regretting my decision to have him be the one to take her out of the room, but he was the only one she’d met. “Shut it, Royce.”

“You seriously went on a date with a man?” Polly practically screams when she sees me.

“Thanks, asshole.” I flip Royce off, and he takes that as his cue to leave. “I got set up by a client’s grandmother.”

“How the hell could she think you were gay?”

“’Cause her granddaughter is Lacy Love.”

It takes only a split second for the name to register with Polly. “You mean the pop singer Lacy Love?”

“Yeah. Lacy tried to get me to go out with her, but I turned her down. She was butthurt about it, so she told her grandma, who is the sweetest old lady you’d ever meet, that I was too scared to admit I was gay.” Still pisses me off to this day that I didn’t pick up earlier on what was happening. “Because I couldn’t say no to her, I agreed to meet this person, whose name was Taylor. When I got to the restaurant and figured it out, I felt horrible ’cause the guy was really excited.”

“Excited to get a taste of that sweet Red Velvet,” Royce yells from down the hall and the rest of the guys crack up.

Polly laughs too, and I reach out and put her in a head lock. “Don’t encourage them.”

“Red Velvet?” She chokes out.

“My hair ain’t even red, Royce.” I kiss the top of Polly’s head before I let her up. “Anyway, long story short, I informed Taylor that I was, in fact, not gay, but since we both were there and hungry, we got dinner and then went home.”

“At least he bought you dinner first!”

“Shut the fuck up, Royce!”

Polly has tears running down her cheeks she’s laughing so hard. Normally, Royce pisses me off with his shit after about three minutes, but watching her laugh like this, I’d let him say dumb shit to me all damn night just to see her this relaxed.

“Well, you’ve done the tour and met Royce, so I suppose I’ll introduce you to the other guys who are here then we can head out.”

“Okay.” She blows out a shaky breath and tries to stop laughing, but snorts when she inhales. “I’m sorry. I just…”

She can’t even finish her sentence, so I wait a minute, and when she finally composes herself, we go to the reception area where all the guys are hanging around. After a quick round of introductions and an accidental fist to Royce’s kidney, Polly and I get in the Jeep and take off.

She’s rather quiet for the ride because she’s looking around. “It’s so pretty here.”

“It is,” I agree.

“How often do you come back?”

“Depends. Usually about once a month.” I’ve thought about moving back here permanently, but when I stay for more than a couple of weeks, history creeps up on me, so I go back to Pleasant Valley. Then wash, rinse, repeat. Same thing there. Except when I come back to Cali, I usually busy myself with work.

“I don’t know why you’d ever leave.”

I pull into the driveway and kill the engine then unbuckle my seat belt and turn in my seat. “I’ve thought about staying. Still do. More than half of my life is here, but the other part isn’t. And now that I have you, home is wherever you are. But if you wanted to move here, we could.” Because I could handle being here all the time if I was with her. I shouldn’t use her as a crutch, but I do.

She nibbles on her bottom lip and looks out the window. “I don’t know if I could ever live here with you, Erik. I mean, yes, it’s gorgeous but—”

“Hey.” I lower my voice and reach over to take her chin between my fingers so she looks at me. “If things stayed just like they are right now; if we stayed in Pleasant Valley and continued to work at Complexity, I’d be just as happy as if we moved here.”

“But how do you even manage to work security and be at the security place?”

“I don’t go out in the field a lot. When I come back, it’s usually for a special assignment or some type of admin shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about all this before?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to hide it, but I think I was so focused on being with you that this part of my life wasn’t registering as important.” That’s the only answer I can think to give. I really haven’t thought about this place much.

“Hmm.”

“Baby, I’m serious. I’m happy wherever you want to be.”

We’ve gotta get back because I’ve gotta talk to her about what I found out earlier today. Since the news is so big, I think it’d be best to deliver it when she’s in a place where she’s more comfortable. We go back in the house and pack up then get a ride to the airport from Chris.

Polly falls asleep on the way back, and by the time we get to my place, I’m the one exhausted. She sits on the couch, and I go upstairs to hop in the shower. When I’m done, I’m thankfully more awake.

I sit next to her and grab the remote then shut the TV off. “I found your birth parents.”

Every molecule in my girl’s body tenses up. Her skin pales, and her eyes fill with unshed tears. “What?” she barely whispers.

“I didn’t tell you I was looking because I wasn’t sure what I’d find. I’ve debated if I was doing the right thing and even thought about not looking, but when I found out they were alive, I thought it was best to tell you and let you make a decision.”

Her head gives a slight shake, and she slowly backs away. “Why?”

“Because I wanted you to have closure. I know—”

“No, you don’t!” She jumps up from the couch and backs away from me. “You don’t know what it’s like growing up not having any fucking family. Not having someone to love you. Not knowing what you did wrong to be given up to the State. You have no fucking clue, and you had no fucking right!”

Okay. Wrong move on my part. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right. God, Erik, what were you thinking? Why wouldn’t you ask me? After everything we’ve been though already, why wouldn’t you at least ask me?”

“Ba—” I reach for her, but she backs away.

“I need some time.”

Fuck. God, I’m such an idiot. I raise my hands to show her I’m giving her space. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I just can’t believe you didn’t talk to me. That you didn’t think to ask if I would even want you to find them.”

She stomps upstairs, and the bedroom door slams. I punch the wall, so goddamned mad at my inconsideration. I walk around the house, giving her time to cool off. I’m praying she calms down and doesn’t hate me forever because of this. When I do another pass by the front door, I notice a car’s headlights sitting in front of my house. Peering closer through the small window, I discover it’s a cab.

Chapter 24

Polly

I hear his feet just as I’m starting another round of pacing. I’m so… so damn hurt right now; I swear my head’s about to explode from the confusion twisting around in it. I’m also embarrassed. How could he do this? I have never, not once, had the desire to see them or to know why they gave me up. Sure, when I was a kid, maybe the thought crossed my mind… but that was long before I realized that the only one who gives a shit about me is me.

I thought Erik was different. But apparently not. Ugh, I know he’s different. No amount of convincing would change that fact. But I’m allowed to be pissed at him for this.

“You’re not leaving.” He charges into the room, stalking toward me, but I back away and put my hands out.

Now he’s going to tell me what to do? No. I won’t ever let that happen to me again. “Excuse me?” I move to walk past him so I can get away from him, but he steps over to block me.

“I said you’re not leaving.”

Why the hell would he think I’m leaving? I just need to process all this shit, and I don’t need him around to see me fall apart. “I don’t want to be around you right now.” When it flashes in his eyes, that vulnerability, the insecurity he’s so ashamed to show, I soften my voice. “I’m not leaving, Erik.” I raise my head and my eyelids. “I just need some time alone.”

His head shakes, but he doesn’t argue.

“I’ve been by myself almost all my life, Erik. I love you, but I really don’t like you right now, and I don’t want to be around you.” I can’t have him up in my space when I’m trying to think and make sense of my damn life. When I’m trying to figure out if I want to see or meet the parents that gave me up when I was born.

He has no clue what it feels like not to feel wanted. To go your entire life never having someone say they love you, never having stability, never feeling safe. He was the first one to offer that to me, and it took me a long time to realize he meant what he said. It’s hard to feel vulnerable with someone.

“You’re not leaving. Do you remember what happened the last time I was stupid enough to let you walk away? I’ll give you your space, I’ll give you time, but I won’t let you walk away, so you can cancel your Uber or your cab or whatever, because you’re not going anywhere.”

I really do love him. And I love that he cares so much about me that he wants me to stay even though I screamed at him like a child. But I don’t know what he’s talking about. “I didn’t call for a ride. You do have this thing called neighbors, ya know? Think that maybe someone else in your neighborhood called for an Uber or a cab or whatever?”

He kind of jerks his head in confusion then his eyes widen. “What?”

“How would I call an Uber, Erik? You don’t have a phone in here, and I don’t have a cell. I came up here to get a little bit of space after the earth-shattering news you just sprung on me. Plus,” I continue, “you proposed to me yesterday, and I saw a completely different side to your life that I had no idea about. Excuse me for being a little… apprehensive and confused. I’m going to take a bath now. Alone.”

I turn on my heel and head to the bathroom as I hear him sigh. I really do want to be alone, so I lock the door behind me and run a bath, pouring some lavender beads in with the hot water.

After taking my clothes off, I slide into the tub and hum at the way I’m immediately more relaxed. The house is so quiet that I can hear a car door slam outside. I expect Erik to come up here, but he doesn’t.

Knowing I really do have the time to think, now that I’ve calmed down, I understand where he’s coming from, and that he looked for them out of a place of love.

The fact that he has connections or whatever to be able to find them is a little insane. Then again finding out about his whole other life is pretty damn crazy, too. But it’s not as if when we met I divulged everything about my past to him, so it’s not fair of me to think he should have told me everything about himself immediately.

I sink below the water and hold my breath, letting the sound of nothingness fill my head, drowning out the confusion and heartache over things I can’t change. The water ripples around me when I surface, and the cool air on my face sends a chill down my spine.

Reluctantly, I get up and out of the tub then dry myself off with a towel. When I get to the bedroom to put my pajamas on, I’m actually surprised that Erik’s not waiting for me, but I am appreciative that he kept his word and is giving me space.

Instead of going down by him, I just shut the light off and get into bed. Exhausted from being overly emotional and traveling, I fall asleep the second my head molds to the memory foam pillow.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of a loud crash and sit up. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I reach over but find the bed empty. My heart rate steadily climbs, and when the noise sounds again, I hop out of the bed. My legs are a little wobbly, but I manage to make it to the closed door and crack it open. The sound happens again, and I jump.

Not sure what’s going on or if Erik is okay, I slip out of the room into the hallway and tiptoe to the top of the stairs. Standing there with my head tilted as if it’ll help me hear better, I wait. About a minute or so goes by when the crashing noise happens again, and I take advantage of the sound and skip down the stairs two at a time.

Reaching the bottom, I pause and adjust to the brighter light down here. It’s not much—just the glow from the TV in the living room and the stove light. Erik is standing in front of the sink, and just as I’m about to ask what he’s doing, I determine the source of the noise.

He’s tossing bottles into a trash can. I quietly sit on the bottom step and wait. Now that I’m close, I can hear the liquid as he pours it down the drain. He chucks the empty bottle, and I jump at the crashing sound. The number of bottles he still has lined up, waiting to be emptied, is staggering. I thought he’d gotten rid of the liquor but apparently not.

I sit and wait, and when he’s done, he turns and looks right at me, gripping the edge of the sink behind him. Should have known he knew I was here. Can’t get anything by him. He doesn’t say a word and neither do I. But then again, he doesn’t have to. The tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers are wrapped around the edge of the countertop are enough to tell what he’s feeling.

“I thought you already got rid of those.”

“Forgot I had a couple of boxes in the garage.”

“Oh.”

He swallows and clears his throat. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m done. You can go back to bed.” He pushes off the counter and grabs the bag, the muscles in his forearm flex from the weight. Even when I’m mad at him, it’s hard to stay that way because he’s so damn sexy. And because he really cares about me. Even if I’m upset with what he did, there’s no denying that he did it because he cares and wants what’s best for me. Nothing’s sexier than that.

As he walks through the kitchen to the sliding door, I remain seated. The glass crashes once more when I’m assuming he throws the bag in a garbage can. I keep an eye on him as he walks back into the house. He closes the door and instead of coming back in the kitchen, he heads to the living room. I can’t see him anymore, so I wait.

After a few minutes, I get up and go to him. He’s sitting on the couch with his feet flat on the floor and his knees bent. His head is in his hands, but when I stand in front of him, he looks up. Without giving him a choice, I crawl onto his lap and straddle him. He leans back and grabs my hips as I rest my hands on his chest.

“I’m sorry, Polly. I didn’t think. I just saw the opportunity to give you something and jumped on it. This was one thing that I thought—”

“I know. And it’s okay.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “It’s not.”

“It is.”

He tries to interrupt me again, but I put a finger over his mouth. “It is. I know you did it because you love me, and I appreciate that you cared so much. But honestly, Erik. I don’t want to know. I have no desire to see them, to meet them, or to know why they gave me up. I finally have something good.” I slide my hand to cup the side of his scruffy face. “And I don’t care about anything else but you. The past is over; you’re my future. You’re all I need.”

His eyes soften, and he turns his head to kiss my palm. Then he sits up a bit and grabs my left hand, kissing the finger with my engagement ring on it. Reaching up, he pulls me closer and brings my lips to his.

He apologizes with a demanding tenderness, his tongue searching for my forgiveness as he deepens the kiss… reinforces our connection. I grip his biceps and rock into him, my body answering for me. I moan against him and draw in a breath when his forearms, which are resting on the top of my shoulders, press down, and he pushes me against the hardness beneath his clothes.

A sound low in his throat echoes in the living room. His hand leaves my face and trails down, down, down until he reaches the bottom of my tank top. Rough calluses on his fingertips scrape against my skin as they trail up, leaving fire in their wake. The pad of his thumb skates across the underside of my breast then over my hardened nipple.

I grind harder against him, and just as the warmth in my belly begins to ignite, he lifts me off him. My breath is lost when he raises his hips, pulls down his shorts, and his erection swings free and slaps against his belly.

He swings me back over him, rips my shorts off, and then brings me back so I land right on him. “God.” I pant when he moves me over him and swivels my hips so the head of his dick teases my sensitive clit.

“Ride me, baby.” He reaches between us, and once the target is acquired, thrusts up.

Any fight, any anger or animosity that was between us is just gone. It’s erased when we’re together like this, because there has never been anything like it before. Nothing is better. It’s so beautiful, and it just feels so damn good.

I lift and lower, grind and press until the flickering of the flame bursts and I’m pulled over the edge. He links his arms under my biceps and grabs my shoulders with his hands, rendering me immobile while he uses my body to fuck himself. He pounds into me and grunts as each stroke gets harder. My hair flails around, and our skin slaps together so loudly it sounds like wood splintering.

The power and passion beneath me is too much. “I… Erik, I’m going to come again.”

“Wait for me.”

He doesn’t speed up, and I whine against his neck. “I can’t.”

The desperate words do something to him because holds me tighter than he ever has before and fucks me like he’ll never get to again. When I can’t hold off any longer, I scream out his name, and he roars out mine as we climax together.

* * *

Luckily, I don’t have to get up super early to go to The Lunchbox because after last night, we didn’t go back to bed until about four in the morning. I managed to wake up before Erik, so I slide out of bed and tiptoe into the bathroom. As quietly as I can, I get ready for work, and by the time I’m done, I realize I’m going to be running late.

Leaning over Erik, I go to nudge his shoulder, when he grabs me and throws me on the bed next to him and hovers over me with a silly grin on his face. “Morning.”

“You’re insane.” I laugh, gently pushing him off.

He kisses my forehead, and I roll over and get off the bed. “I was just going to wake you up to tell you I was leaving for work.”

“I’ll drive you.” He starts to get up, but I rush around the bed and push him back down.

“No, I can drive. Get some rest. You barely got any sleep last night.”

“Oh, but baby it was worth every second.” He rolls the words off his tongue and winks then tries to cover up a yawn.

No sense in trying not to laugh because when he acts like this, when I get the carefree side of him, he’s hilarious. “Go back to bed.”

“No. I’ll take ya.”

“Erik. Go back to bed. I slept before I came downstairs—”

“You sure did come downstairs. Probably woke up the neighbors.”

“Shut up, oh my God.” I reach over and smack the side of his head. “Before I walked downstairs, I got to sleep. You didn’t. I just have to work for a few hours then I’ll be back.”

I see the wheels turning in his head. He knows I’m right. “Polls, I should really take you.”

“Who do you think took me to work before I met you, handsome? I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.”

He reaches out and slides a finger through my belt loop then pulls me between his legs. “Can’t sweet talk me, babe. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

I shove his shoulder and head downstairs, knowing I won’t win, even though I think I was pretty close this time. He’s not overbearing with the way he… protects me, though. Doesn’t make me feel like I’m a burden or that it’s a hardship for him to do things like take me to work.

Independence is something that I can have while letting my man do what he needs to in order to give himself peace of mind.

While I’m waiting for him, I make myself a bowl of cereal. I lean against the counter and look around the house. It looks so different than it did last night. After we had sex on the couch, I stayed in his arms and with him still inside me and we talked. He explained that as he was giving me my space, he had that urge. The one that always crept up on him before he’d go binge drink.

Instead of doing what he has always done, he took satisfaction in dumping the alcohol down the drain, no longer letting it control him. I didn’t even realize he still struggled with that. I suppose it will always be. The fact that he’s recognized it, though—that’s huge. And I know he’s strong enough to beat it.

He also kept trying to apologize for what he did, and I kept trying to tell him it was okay. After I really realized why he did what he did, I truly am not mad at him anymore, and honestly don’t know if I ever was. I think I was just more flustered with the slew of events from over the weekend.

Just as I’m finishing my food, Erik comes downstairs looking far too good for getting so few hours of sleep. He holds his hand out for me, and we walk to his car, where he opens the door, and then holds my hand again as he drives.

The sexy jerk has to go and get me all worked up again by kissing me silly and slipping his hand up my shirt outside the diner. Rayne must have seen because when I walk in, she hoots and hollers at me. She notices my ring, and we talk a bit about my whirlwind weekend, and she starts to basically plan my wedding.

We chitchat a bit, and she mentions she can give me a ride home since she has to go that way anyway after work today to go to the grocery store. I reluctantly get Erik to agree but am pretty sure he’s glad he won’t have to wake up earlier to come and get me because he sounded tired as hell.

When there’s a lull, I ask Rayne about possibly giving me some cooking lessons. I never thought to ask her before. When I’m here, I always serve. Cooking was always Rayne and her parents’ thing. She excitedly agrees to be my teacher, and we set up a time once a week for me to come in a little earlier so I can start learning the basics; things I probably should have known a lot earlier in life… like that baking soda and baking powder are two completely different things.

Right now, though, Rayne and I are in her car driving back to my house. “Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll go to the store with you. There are a couple of things I want to get, too.”

“Sure, no problem.” Rayne steers us into the parking lot and we pause our conversation until we get inside the store.

As we shop, we idly chat, and when I round the corner, I come to a dead stop when I see Wyatt.

Chapter 25

Erik

Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe I’m jaded from what happened with my mom. Maybe having a father whose job was to protect people made me cynical from the get-go, but the fact that Polly is getting a ride from someone else right now isn’t sitting well with me.

I realize I was young when my father passed, but what he taught me isn’t something I can forget. Aside from that, it’s just me. Hell, my parents named me Erik because it means powerful ruler or some shit. From birth, I had a stereotype to live up to. It’s in my blood, and the older I get the more that desire weighs me down, or maybe it’s just Polly.

Like right now, knowing I’m not with her even though I could be is killing me. If something happened to her… Christ, something did already happen to her because of me, because I wasn’t there. That was the moment it all became clear. When the words of wisdom from my dad finally resonated with me and I understood what he must have felt the night he walked in and saw my mother’s dead body.

I look at the time on my phone again, and realize that if she came straight home, like she said she would, she’d have been here forty minutes ago. I’m unlocking my phone to call Rayne, since I was at least smart enough to get her number when Polly called me, when a car stops in front of the curb.

My girl’s blond hair is the first thing I see through the window, and I suddenly lose about two hundred pounds from my shoulders. When she gets out of the car, she opens the back door and grabs some bags then waves to Rayne. I do the same as she drives away and I meet Polly in the middle of the walkway.

Before she can even say hi, I tug her to me and kiss her. “Too much time away from you.” Not even a single ounce of care is given knowing I sound like a whipped pussy.

“Sorry, I stopped to get some groceries. I wanted to have something nice for dinner tonight.” She holds up the bags and shrugs, but something about the way she says it doesn’t sit right with me.

“Everything okay?” I take them from her and follow her in the house then set everything on the kitchen counter. “How was work?”

“Good. Nothing exciting.” She reaches in the bag and pulls out a rotisserie chicken. “I love these things.”

“Me too. Polls, what’s up?”

Before reaching in the bag again, she looks at me. “Don’t judge me, okay?”

“Never.”

“I’ve just given up on the fact that I can’t cook.” She reads off what’s in the containers as she lifts them out. “Pasta salad. Potato skins. Cucumber salad. I kind of felt like I needed to get vegetables, even if they’re swimming in sour cream.”

“That’s why you’re giving off a vibe?”

“A vibe?” she asks.

“Just seem a little flustered.”

“While I was shopping, I just realized how much love you.”

My neck kinks, and I cross my arms. “You realized that at the grocery store?”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I just had a reminder of how lucky I am that we ran into each other.”

Nothing could make me forget how I felt the first time I saw her. “Did I ever tell you I saw you before you almost fell at my feet?”

“Um, no. You most certainly did not.”

Not much in life embarrasses me, but admitting this to her totally does. “Well, I did. And I could have easily moved out of the way, but I saw your tits and wanted to feel them pressed against me.”

She grabs an orange from the bowl on the counter and throws it at me. “You’re such a pig.”

I catch the flying fruit and shrug at her. She’s got great tits, what can I say? Not only that, but she’s just fuckin’ perfect. “You don’t even know how much I love every single thing about you, do you?”

“Even the fact that I can’t cook?”

I get in her space and brush some hair off her face. “Especially that.”

Her nose scrunches. “For such a smart man, that’s a pretty dumb thing to say.”

“No, it’s not. Because even though you have trouble with cooking, you still try. You say you’re going to give up, but you never actually do. And even though you hate that you mess up, you still find a way to feed your man.”

“My man, huh?”

“Yeah, baby. You belong to me just as much as I belong to you.”

Love when her eyes go all soft. Love that she still acts a little embarrassed when I tell her what she means to me. Love her… so damn much.

* * *

“I hear you had an exciting trip. Polly filled me in,” Brad states. Polly and I are back at Complexity, and these past couple of days home have been great. We’ve gotten back into our routine, and I really do like the domesticity of it.

I haven’t had a chance to talk to Brad yet today because we kept missing each other’s paths. He and his husband, Kenny, are in Brad’s office where I stopped on my way back from taking a piss.

“Yeah.” I smile. Can’t help but be fuckin’ ecstatic about Polly agreeing to marry me. Nothing, not even me being an insensitive prick about finding her real parents will ruin that. “It was phenomenal.”

“When’s the wedding?” Kennedy asks with a sly grin.

“I don’t know, man.” I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “Not in a rush, just needed to get somethin’ on her finger and hear the words, ya know?”

They both nod.

“Plus, I want everything to settle before we focus on that. Kind of hard to start planning a future when the past is still a shadow.”

“I hear that,” Brad mutters. He phoned me yesterday and told me that his brother is packing up his shit and moving out of town. He’s officially done with him and plans on never seeing him again. “Well, do me a favor and at least give me a heads-up when you decide to move back to Cali.”

I’m confused by his comment. “What are you talking about?” Did Polly tell him something she hasn’t told me?

“When she was telling me about the trip, her face got all dreamy and shit. She liked it there.”

“I do, too. But this is home, ya know? She’s comfortable here.”

“Ehh.” He waves me off. “I’m not a gambling man, but I’d put money on the fact that she asks to go back there.”

A crash from the bar area has me hauling ass to determine what happened. Zack, the bartender, and Polly are bent over, picking up large pieces of glass. “You guys okay?”

Polly looks up at me and nods. “Yup. We’re good.”

“What happened?”

“Wasn’t paying attention and totally fuckin’ ran into her with a damn tray of empty glasses.” He curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Polly.”

“Hey”—she rests her hand on his arm—“totally not a big deal. Why don’t you go take a break for a minute?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he argues.

“Erik’s here now, and it’s your turn anyway. I’ll finish cleaning this up. Go get some air or something.”

Zack looks up at me, and I nod in agreement with Polly. “Go ahead, man.”

He tosses a handful of glass into the trash can and gets up then goes down the hallway leading to the back.

Vinny comes over with a broom and nudges Polly out of the way. “Here, let me sweep the rest of it up.”

Polly begins to get up, and I reach down and help her. She smiles at me before going behind the bar to wash her hands then fills a couple of pitchers with beer.

“What was that about?” I ask her as she makes her way back.

“I don’t know. Some girl was just in here and they were arguing. She stormed off and he followed her. Then halfway through the bar he decided that he wasn’t going to anymore I guess, because he turned around and ran right into me.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She pushes up on her toes and kisses my chin. “Gotta deliver these.”

I give her a pat on the ass as she passes me. She yelps and spits her tongue out then heads to the table to deliver the beer.

“That your girlfriend?” A man’s voice comes from my left, and I turn to see a guy, probably about my age, wearing a tie and sipping some bourbon.

Immediately, my hackles go up. “Fiancée.”

He shakes his head as if to call bullshit.

“You got something to say to me?” My feet take me closer to him, and I lean down so I can lower my voice in order for him to hear me. “And before you do, I suggest you think very clearly about what I’d be willing to do to anybody who tries to jeopardize what she and I have.”

“I’m not in the business of trying to take someone’s woman. I’ve got no problem in that department, buddy.” He chuckles like an entitled asshole.

“Yeah, but when you see one you want who you can’t have, it kinda presents a little challenge, doesn’t it? Makes you want to see how far you can go, how much you’d be willing to risk to get your hands on someone as hot and real as her, huh?”

He doesn’t disagree but doesn’t acknowledge what I just said, either. “Like I said, I’m not interested in another man’s woman. You obviously know what you’ve got. You’re a lucky man.” He slams the rest of his drink and stands then takes his suit coat off the back of the chair and puts it on. Without another word, he nods and heads toward the exit. I wait until I see the door close behind him before searching for Polly.

She’s on her way back already and heads straight to the computer to type in an order.

“Hey, who was that guy who was sitting at the end of the bar? With a tie?”

Her eyes dart over to the now empty bar stool then she looks back at me and shrugs. “Don’t know. He’s been here for just a little bit. Talked to him a couple of times when I was here.” She points to the end of the bar where she picks up drinks and orders.

“He come on to you?”

“No. Just small talk.”

“What did you talk about?”

She laughs. “What’s it to you?”

“’Cause he asked me about you, and I don’t like a man I don’t know talking to and asking after my fiancée.” My voice comes off a little harsher than I intend for it to, and Polly’s laughter fades.

“It really wasn’t much. Said he was in town on business. Asked how long I’ve worked here, what good restaurants there are to eat at.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know, Erik. It was a couple of two-minute conversations, and that’s it. I swear. He didn’t once come off as creepy or try to hit on me.”

Fuck, I hate that I get like this sometimes. Makes me feel like an animal. “Okay. Sorry, honey. Not tryin’ to fly off the handle here, but I just didn’t like what he had to say.”

“What did he say?”

“Just told me I was lucky.” It might seem like a compliment, but any man knows some guy you don’t know says that to you, it’s not a compliment. Not necessarily a threat, but that’s what it feels like. I’d even admit I might seem irrational, but I’ve seen firsthand the way stalkers start and how they operate. Doesn’t have to be a celebrity for someone to become infatuated with another person.

She puts a hand on my chest and one on the side of my face. Instead of being sweet like she normally is, she pats my cheek then walks away, laughing. “Yeah, you are.”

Once she walks away, I gather my composure again. I don’t know how my dad did it. I’m ready to maim some suit because he was talking to Polly. Don’t think it’ll ever go away, but I’m learning how to deal with it better.

The rest of the night goes by relatively uneventfully. Zack is in a mood, and I avoid him until the night is over. I walk around the bar and help everyone clean up. I really like this about Brad. He doesn’t make just one person clean. Everyone, including him, pitches in, and all the employees take more pride in the place. I really like everyone who works at Complexity and hope that as time goes on nobody ends up being a douchebag.

I’ve only been here a short time but already feel a kind of ownership every time I walk in here. There’s something prideful about knowing you’re responsible for making sure someone is safe, for making sure the whole bar is safe. Polly’s helped me get rid of the insecurities, and it allows me to actually enjoy working like this.

I know I can’t personally protect everyone, which is why I’m really damn glad there’s such a kickass crew working here. Having co-workers you can trust and who you know have your back make the world of difference. Which is part of the reason I still go back to The Firm when I can. I need to make sure to keep the comradery with the guys, and they need to make sure they remember that I’m the boss. I don’t throw my weight around often, but I don’t want them to forget.

They have no clue about the issues I’ve had with alcohol. Probably because they’ve never seen me drink. I got really good at hiding it and making sure to do my suffering alone. But knowing I don’t have to live like that anymore is an indescribable feeling.

It’s a feeling I will do whatever it takes to keep, to protect. And if that makes me seem like a crazy son of a bitch, then so be it.

We all leave at about the same time, but like always, I’m the last one to walk out. Polly leans into me as we make our way to my car. My girl is tired and so am I. Knowing we get to go home and I get to hold her while I sleep is the best feeling in the world. That I’ll be able to wake up with her and start the day with her being the first thing I see is something that won’t ever get old.

I still question how I got so lucky as to have her stay after I dropped the bomb about her parents. I’d never actually force her, but I was sure as hell going to try to make her stay and hear me out. I’d sat downstairs, and when it got to be too much, I headed for one of my spare stashes. Had the fuckin’ bottle to my lips and happened to glance over and see her purse.

It wasn’t even a question when I started dumping everything down the drain. I’d already jeopardized her, already fucked up more than once, and wasn’t about to do that again.

She snuggles into me in the car, and as much as I love it, it’s not really her norm. She’s not the cuddliest person, so it sends up a flag. When we arrive home, we head right upstairs and get ready for bed. Once we crawl under the covers, she scoots close to me, and I pull her close.

“I want to move to California.”

I have to ask her to say it again because I really don’t think I heard right.

“I want to move to California,” she repeats.

Yep, okay, so I did hear her right. “What happened to make you change your mind?” She was pretty positive about wanting to stay here, so the sudden change concerns me.

“Nothing happened. I just think it would be good for us to have a fresh start away from here. Away from all the bad shit. And I know you have horrible memories there, but you also have a lot of good ones.”

“I do.”

“You might not have realized it, but you were a different person there than you are here.”

I prop myself up on an elbow so I can see her. “What do you mean?”

“You were just happier. More carefree. And I could see how much you love the guys at the security place. There’s nothing here for me, Erik. I really don’t have anything but you, and I want you to be happy. Because you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. Plus, I really like the ocean.”

“Why do you sound so sad when you say that, baby?” I run my finger along her jawline.

“Not sad, Erik.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.” She rolls from her side to her back. “I promise. It wasn’t until we were back here that I realized how much I’d rather be somewhere else. Away from everything and…”

“Did you tell Brad you wanted to go back there?”

“No, why?”

“Because he asked me to at least give him notice when we moved.”

She rolls her eyes. “He’s such a smartass. I think he saw how excited I got when I talked about it. It really was so pretty, and I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I’d love to live at the beach house.”

“We can do that.” Hell, I’d live wherever she wanted to.

“Do you want to, though? You have a much more important job than I do here, and you have friends.”

“Smith is like a damn brother to me. His family was there for me, and when I lost them, I lost a part of myself, too. More than was even lost before.” I take a breath to control my emotion. “But he doesn’t even know as much about me as you do. It’s like I purposely made a point to keep one life private from the other. I know it seems irrational because he didn’t even know about Sophia and me, but I felt guilty for having something back in Cali after we lost her. So I limited how much I saw him and what I allowed him to see.”

“He doesn’t know about the protection firm?”

“No. I mean, he knows who my parents were and how they died, and just the other night, I finally told him a little bit about The Firm. That I owned it and stuff.”

“How did he take it?”

I grunt. “He was fine, I suppose. But I imagine a little hurt that I hid yet another thing from him.”

She sighs. “I want to start our life. I want to get married and start a family. But I really think that we need to get away from Pleasant Valley. We need to start over where we don’t have shadows creeping on up. Back there just seems like the right place.”

“I completely agree, baby.” I lean down and kiss her, not as long as I’d like, but then again, forever wouldn’t be enough time. “Let’s move to Cali.”

Chapter 26

Polly

One and a Half Years Later

The soft swoosh of the ocean is the first thing I hear when I wake up in the morning. Erik’s arm wrapped around me is the first thing I feel. They’re also the last things to comfort me every night before I fall asleep. With no nightmares.

We’ve lived in California for a little over a year now. When I told Erik I wanted to move here, he was more than willing to accommodate me. But instead of jumping the gun, we waited for Erik to find a replacement at Complexity. Brad already had an ad out for another waitress, so he didn’t have any trouble finding a couple of servers easily.

We sold my piece of shit car and waited for his house to sell, which took a couple of months. I never did tell him I saw Wyatt at the store and that that was the catalyst for my wanting to move. I knew starting a life together would be perfect and amazing no matter what, but I really thought at that moment that doing it somewhere away from The Valley would be the cherry on top. It’s not that I was hiding seeing Wyatt from Erik, but I know that if he knew I’d seen him, he would go all crazy possessive over me going anywhere without him while we were still in Pleasant Valley.

And I like that I know he’s there to protect me and look out for me, but I didn’t want to put that pressure on him. I really did realize how much I loved him at that moment I saw Wyatt. Because for the first time in my life, I knew that if I was scared, I could call him, and he’d drop absolutely everything to be there for me. I’d never had that security, that much trust and love in another person, and I just knew that nothing would ever change that.

I try to lift the boulder that’s draped over me, but Erik’s bicep flexes. “Why are you up already?” He pushes his morning wood into my butt, and I giggle at him.

“I wanted to make breakfast.”

Rayne and her mother took me under their wing and gave me so many cooking lessons before we moved that all their teaching somehow stuck. I can proudly say that I can make a killer pancake and can fry bacon to perfection. My lunches are on point, and as long as it doesn’t involve pasta (I can never make the noodles right, and my relationship with garlic bread is still on the rocks), dinner is kind of good most of the time.

“We’re bringing donuts in today, remember?” Erik reminds me.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Royce is finally twenty-one.” I can’t believe I almost forgot my own idea. That’s the other thing that’s been a big change. I work at The Firm now, too. They had another receptionist quit, so I offered to help out when we moved here and just never left the position.

My official title got changed to Administration Manager, but that’s semantics. I’m actually able to put my degree to use and the realization was liberating.

I’ve grown close to all the guys, but they really liked me when I brought in donuts for Gio’s birthday. Now it’s a tradition, and I love that the guys get excited about it. But that’s just because they all eat like cavemen, so it really is a treat for them. Well, except Royce; he eats like a boy going through puberty.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I tell Erik. He kisses my shoulder, and I slide out of bed then go to the bathroom.

When I get inside, I close the door and take out a pregnancy test from the cupboard. Trying to be quiet, I rip the package open. After peeing on the stick, I wash my hands and lean on the counter watching the clock tick away. After three minutes has passed, I finally look down at the stick.

Erik walks in right on time, and when he sees the result, he hugs me from behind. “It’ll happen, honey.”

I can’t answer him because the heartbreak of seeing the negative lines on the test again are too much. We’ve been trying since we moved here and have been unsuccessful. I never thought that I’d want something so badly that I can’t have. He’s suggested going to a doctor, but I believe that if it was meant to happen, it will happen. And I just don’t think it’s supposed to happen this way for us.

“We should adopt.” I blurt out, not letting him continue with his speech, because each time this happens, he tries to tell me more and more about how everything will work out. Or how we just need to let it happen. “Think about it, Erik. I know I have.”

His eyes catch mine in the mirror. “I didn’t ever think about it, Polls, but I’m totally fine with it.”

“I want you to be more than fine.”

“That’s not how I meant it. I’d be deliriously happy to raise a child with you in any way we could have one. There are a lot of kids who need homes.”

This idea has been swirling around in my mind for a few months now, and I’ve kept it close to heart. Now is a good a time as any, I suppose. “What do you think about adopting a teenager?”

He doesn’t show any feature changes in his face. “We can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I love you, Polly. And I’m happy as long as I have you. Kids, in any which way they come, would be a blessing, one I’m not sure I deserve. And if an older child is the direction you want to head, I’ll support and welcome it with open arms.”

“Why are you so damn perfect?” I ask. My arms wrap around his that are wrapped around my waist.

“I’m far from perfect, baby.”

“To me you are. I even dropped the terribly part when you married me.”

He throws back his head and laughs. “Still love that you put that in your vows, baby.”

“I promise that when I refer to how good we are for each other, I will refrain from using the word terrible in any form because nothing about what I feel for you is terrible.”

“You’re right, Polly. It’s not terrible at all. It’s fuckin’ perfect.”

Epilogue

Erik

Two and a half years after that

“Your territory, Polls. Deal with her; otherwise, I’m going to lose my shit.” I storm down the stairs, and once I reach the bottom of the steps, I go back up. When I get to the bathroom where Paisley is standing with Polly, I continue my rant, “You’re missing half of a dress! And the damn skirt has a rip in it up to your thigh! If you think for one second you’re walking out of this house dressed in that, you clearly have no idea who I am.”

“It’s not about you, Derik,” Paisley snaps. She calls me that because the first time she went to call me dad, she couldn’t do it, and she ended up combining my name and dad. I’m totally cool with it, though. It’s kind of a special thing that only she and I share.

It took us ten months before we were able to finalize the adoption papers, but I’ve never been happier. After only about two weeks our little family meshed, and I couldn’t love Paisley any more if she were my own flesh and blood.

It wasn’t even strange that she was already fourteen when we adopted her. And the ironic thing is she looks a lot like Polly. Same blond hair, same beautiful smile. But she’s also got my eyes. It’s uncanny that she looks like both of us.

I’ve loved this journey that Polly and I have been on. And adding Paisley was a miracle. Except right now. Because my blood pressure is about to soar through the damn roof.

“It isn’t about me. You’re right. It’s about all these horny bo—”

“Oh, my God,” Paisley shrieks.

“Erik,” Polly scolds me. Like I’m the one in trouble.

“What? You don’t think the stupid boys at this dance are going to want to try—? No, ya know what? Never mind.” I have a better idea. “You girls are right. I’m overreacting. Go. Have fun at homecoming. You look beautiful.”

They both stay silent, probably afraid to jinx my generosity.

I head downstairs and grab my phone then scroll through my contacts. He’s the only one who could pass for a younger kid, and I know for a fact he’s not working tonight. I press send on the phone and wait for him to pick up.

“What’s up, Erik?”

“Hey, Royce. I’ve got a job for you tonight.”

* * *

Paisley

I don’t know why he thinks I can’t see him. Maybe because he’s not trying to hide. I think he likes to know he’s making me nervous. I’d go over there and give him a piece of my mind, but I don’t want to draw attention to him. He’s already got the girls all giddy.

Ugh. I turn my back to him and walk outside to get some fresh air. I always feel so… so short of breath when he’s around. When I reach the sidewalk, I stop and turn around, knowing he’s right behind me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Royce holds his hands out and drops his lower jaw. “What? I can’t come to a party? You know I love a good kegger.”

“I don’t need a guard dog, Royce. Besides, you’re too busy flirting with all the girls to even notice what I’m doing.”

He does that thing that makes my stomach all tingly. He smiles just enough for his dimples to make an appearance. If he smiles too big, they go away, so I like to think the dimples are reserved for me. “I’m twenty-three years old, precious, got no inclination to go to jail over a little girl.”

I can’t help the hurt that clogs my throat, and I cross my arms like it’ll somehow guard my heart. When his eyes dart to my chest, I’m the one smirking now. But just as fast as they were there, they go back to glaring at me, and I go back to feeling like a child under his inspection.

So I do what I do best when I feel cornered; I act out and turn into a brat. “You can go report back to Derik that I’m fine. Then you can leave me alone. Forever.” Waving him off, I turn to head back into the house.

“Sorry, no can do.”

Abruptly, my momentum stops, and he runs into me from behind. His hands, his strong hands, grip my arms above my elbows. I’m wearing four-inch heels, so his lips rest just at the top of my head, and the warmth of his body saturates mine. One hand releases and the tip of his finger slides all the way down my arm. He’s probably used to women who don’t shiver from a single touch, but I’m not one of them.

I’m a sixteen-year-old girl who has never even been kissed.

“I’ve had eyes on you all night, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that, precious. This dress…” His fingertip slides across my bare belly, and I sway. “It shows so much skin, and all these horny little fuckers are just waiting to make their play for you. Nobody’s gonna touch this body while I’m around.”

I can’t move. Can barely breathe. Oh, my God, Royce is touching me. The ridiculously hot bodyguard who I’ve had a crush on since the moment I saw him. The guy who I dream about kissing me… he’s touching me.

I jump when his hand touches my outer thigh. “So much skin. They’re dyin’ to get between your legs and see if the rest of you is just as soft.”

“Royce.” I… what? Beg, cry, whine. I don’t even know.

“Yeah?” His scruffy face rubs against my neck, and his lips caress the shell of my ear. “Say my name, baby.”

“Royce.”

His throat rumbles, and then he’s gone, leaving me a shivering mess. My throat tightens, and I put a hand to it, feeling my pulse throbbing against my palm. When I turn around, he’s closer than I expected. I don’t know what to say or even what I’m feeling. He dips his head and aligns our eyes but doesn’t speak.

I can’t take the intensity, so I whisper, “Royce.”

His pupils flash and his lips part. “That’s why I’m here.”

“What?”

He stands straight and motions at my body. “’Cause someone gives you a little bit of attention and before you know it, you’ll be face down, ass up.”

I raise my arm to slap him, but he deflects it and grabs my wrist. I try with the other one and end up with the same result.

“You don’t wanna hit me, Paisley.”

I struggle with him, but he’s so strong. “Yes, I do.”

“You hit me, and I’ll bend you over my knee.”

I gasp at his admission and lose any struggle I had. I drop my head so he won’t see the tears welling in them. He releases my arms, and I shove him before I turn around and make my way back to the house. Just as I touch the doorknob, he reaches me.

“Shit, fuck. I’m sorry.” He stands much like he did on the sidewalk, right behind me.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Wish I could,” he whispers. Reaching around me, he pulls open the door, and just as I make my way into the house, he says, “It’d help if you weren’t so fuckin’ beautiful.”

I stop dead in my tracks and put my hands on my hips, then glare at him over my shoulder. “Yeah? Well, it’d help if you weren’t such a jerk.”

He has the nerve to show me his dimples. “Can’t wait for you to grow up, precious. It’s gonna be so good.”

Start the Pleasant Valley series with Fixing Fate.

Mellie Jamison is afraid of the world after her security and innocence were stolen as a teen. Now in her early twenties, she’s content with her secluded lifestyle and her cat… at least, that’s what she tells herself. When a grandfather she never met leaves her an abandoned house, she has no choice but to set out on a journey she never wanted to take.

Smith Porter was living his dream until he was forced to give up his job as a police officer and return home to take over the family business. He’s now alone in the world, merely surviving on memories and emotionless attachments. So when his old partner calls in a favor, Smith agrees to flip the neglected house and keep an eye on Jay’s baby sister.

He’s a master at restoration and rebuilding, but Smith never expected that tearing the walls down around Mellie’s heart to be his most difficult project yet. And when her life is threatened, keeping her safe is the most important job he’ll ever have.

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Make Me Forget (It's Kind Of Personal Book 1)

Prologue

Six months ago.

Even though I’m blindfolded, I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my body to cooperate, while my mind screams at me in protest. Todd grunts as he picks up his pace, effectively slamming my head into the wall. I’m grateful for the pain, as it distracts me from what I’ve allowed myself to become.

“I’m coming!” He never talks when he fucks me, except to tell me that he’s coming.

I can’t say anything, can’t move, can’t see. I can do nothing but wait. He collapses on top of me for a few minutes before pulling out and sitting up. Then he unties my ankles and wrists. Next, he removes the blindfold, followed by the gag. I rub my wrists and take a deep breath.

“Be right back.”

He disappears out of my bedroom, returning a moment later with a wet cloth to clean between my legs. What I thought at one point was a sweet gesture turns into another moment I have to endure his touch.

“That was amazing.” He runs a hand through his curly blond hair and smiles at me.

Even with the gag removed, I still can’t speak to him right now. I fake a smile and crawl under the covers.

“I have to go to that conference in Boston this weekend. Be a good girl when I’m gone?”

I’m not sure if he’s asking or telling; either way, I nod and shut my eyes. If he thinks I’m tired, he’ll leave sooner. He’s never stayed the night, not once in three years. He always says he has to go back to work. He doesn’t know that I know the real reason.

“Good girl.” He kisses my forehead and shuts off the light.

I watch his tall, lean figure exit my bedroom and wait until his car pulls away before I hop out of bed. I run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet in time. Once I'm done losing the contents of my stomach, I quickly brush my teeth, but avoid looking in the mirror, because I know what will be looking back at me: sad blue eyes that used to be bright with excitement and hope, framed by blond hair that is dull and too long.

I grab the packed bags I have hidden in my closet and set them by the front door. I can’t be here anymore. Not in this house, not in this city, and definitely not in the same state as him. I know his routine, and he won’t know I’m gone until next week. I have time, but I’m still paranoid. Running back upstairs, I grab anything and everything that is of value to me. Not that there’s much; my mom’s jewelry, some photo albums, paperwork, things like that. I shut all the lights off upstairs, do the same in the kitchen, and make my way out the front door. I have to make a couple trips to my car, but once I have everything packed, I drive away without looking back.

Download Make Me Forget free

A Preview of Easy Sacrifice

Despite dancing among the crowd of steamy bodies, my skin doesn’t feel too heated, but when I get outside and see him, it begins to burn. He’s leaning on his truck right outside the club, watching me. Waiting, maybe? The door closes behind me, and the bass from inside dissipates as the pounding of my heart begins to echo in my chest.

His eyes don’t move from mine. If I could walk, I’d run to him, but I’m paralyzed. I haven't seen him in six years; not since he told me from behind the glass partition that he never wanted to see me again . . . I was the one who pulled the trigger, but he took the blame.

Now, he looks . . . fucking hot. His arms are huge. His eyes are still beautiful, but they’re definitely harder. His hair’s a tad longer than it was before. And in the pants he’s wearing, I can see the outline of his cock.

“Ready?” he asks, pushing off the door.

I don’t think I heard him correctly. “What?”

“Ready?”

He certainly can’t be asking what I’ve dreamed of since the first minute I laid eyes on him. Since he kissed me that night, all I think about is how I want more. I’ve always wanted more. “Huh?”

“Jessa.” He sighs.

“What?”

“Are you ready?”

“For what?”

He walks right up in my personal space and crowds me against the closed club door without actually touching me. The warmth from his body ignites me even further, and I feel my face heating and my panties dampening. His index finger traces the outside of my mouth, and his eyes turn darker as he watches his finger.

“Me,” he whispers.

Available Now: Easy Sacrifice

Acknowledgments

First shout out goes to my husband for being so supportive. Couldn’t do this without you. Love you so much!

Marianne, Kelly, Crystal, Nicole, Megan, Piper, and KC, you guys are awesome. Best squad a girl could ask for.

THANK YOU to Nikki Belaire, Crystal Singer, Heather Carver, Shannon Ferguson, Nicole Richard, Jennifer DiCenzo, Elizabeth Himsworth, and Kelly Lincoln for being the best beta readers in the world!

My reader group and release team are always there to give me a laugh and share in the excitement for my books. I’m beyond grateful for you all.

Melissa from MG Book Covers & Design, Jenny from Editing4Indies, Bree from Vivid Words Editing, Stacey from Champagne Formats. Words can’t express my gratitude for you guys and the phenomenal work that you do!

Colleen from Itsy Bitsy Book Bits and Ena & Amanda from Enticing Journey, thank you for all the incredible work you do to help with the promotion of my books.

THANK YOU, thank you, thank you to the bloggers and the readers. You are appreciated more than you can know. I’m grateful for your support.

About the Author

Anna began writing when she thought the world would want to hear her sick lyrics through song. Since then, she’s realized her childhood dream wasn’t so far-fetched, just misguided. Now she writes romance with real emotions and happy endings. If Anna isn’t writing or reading, she can be found by a space heater drinking a ridiculous amount of Diet Dr. Pepper. She also likes to hang out with her husband and two boys. If it weren’t for them, she wouldn’t ever leave the house. Anna was born in Wisconsin but now lives in the Evergreen State.

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