Where She Belongs (The Forever Collection Book 1) (17 page)

“I want you to live.” The ice in her voice melted.

Flynn strained to hear as her voice softened until he could barely make out the words. “I want to keep you around as a reminder of just how close I came to real danger, the kind of danger that only comes when you allow yourself to be seduced by what could have been. By fairy tales.”

Flynn let out another long breath, both hands rubbing over his head before settling on his face. He felt the weight of their sadness, their obligations and secrets. The room felt like it was filling with ice water, both of them freezing and suffocating and unwilling to swim to safety.

“Did you hear me?” The cut in her voice brought him back to the moment.

“What?”

“I’ll let you live if you make me a promise.”

I’m not sure I want to live. I came here to die. I was ready—now my heart is beating again.

“What?” Flynn felt the wave of sick grip his gut.

“Don’t come back here. Don’t think of us. Pretend I’m dead . . . or you will be.”

The crystalline reflection of a single gathering of salt water in the corner of her eye wrapped wire around Flynn’s slowly thumping heart. His fingertips were cold and the room warmer with every second he let his eyes stay on hers.

She held his life in her hands. He’d come here to die. He’d already decided. One scream from her and it would be over.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Flynn didn’t bother to whisper. He was done playing.

The gathered tear found its way down the ripe warmth of her cheek, and a sardonic smile curved the fullness of those beautiful lips.

“I hate you,” she said.

“I know.”

Flynn closed the ten feet between them and took those lips from her, tasting the flavor that haunted his dreams every night since she took his hand that day on the front steps.

Her taste crashed over him. When he released her, the sound of her scream echoed inside the mansion loud enough to raise the roof. Within a minute, the room filled with the sound of footfalls from the hall and the click of the locks opening from outside her gilded prison.

And let it all be done.

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PROLOGUE

Beckett

{10 years old}

“
Dad–
“

My lungs feel like the flames have moved inside. I hand him my sister in her charcoal-smeared unicorn pajamas.

“
Why
?” Dad’s voice is raw, his eyes full of hate. “Why didn’t you
listen
to me?
I told you,
I
told
you—” He buries his face into my sister’s tiny body only to raise his eyes and ask me the question I don’t want to answer. “
Where is your mother
? You didn’t even try, did you?
You didn’t even try
!” He scans the crowd, desperate, screaming at the men in yellow suits. “My wife’s in there! She’s
still in there
, please,
please God
, help her . . .
someone . . . please
.”

I remember my science fair project is sitting on the kitchen table. I have to turn it in tomorrow. I need him to be proud of me.

Last year, he helped me make an electromagnet—a super, duper one—and he tried to hide the tears when I won the blue ribbon for the best project out of every fourth grader in the Upper Cleveland School District.

Two paramedics rush toward me.

“
Get him in the ambulance
.” One of them yells as they grab at me, lifting me off my feet then strapping me down. “Call ahead to Children’s Hospital burn unit.”

That was the day I realized the pain that comes from outside is nothing comparted to the pain that comes from inside. That was the day my childhood ended.

Chapter One

Beckett

{Eight Years Later}

”Rent is due on the first. But you know there are alternative ways for you to pay.” Denise is more cougar than landlord.

I know, because I fucking hear half the other tenants giving you their ‘rent’ through the paper thin walls. I don’t have that much experience with women, but I think I know enough to know that Denise is
loud.

Her dime store, blue eyeshadow and the ever present snapping piece of Wrigley’s Spearmint are signatures of my landlord who has not stopped trying to seduce me since I moved in.

She’s Mrs. Robinson with red hair and a tramp stamp.

I’m unfortunately in the room next to hers and the sound of her bed denting the plaster wall must be heard in all seven bedrooms plus the kitchen of this makeshift boarding house on the low rent end of Cleveland’s ass.

I mean,
come on.
All that noise is distracting as fuck. I have zero interest in her, but I can imagine if you were riding that ride all that fucking noise would be a boner killer.

She’s sitting on my bed thinking that come-hither look might get her what she wants this month. Sorry champ, no can do.

I can’t keep my eyes off the clock.

7:41 AM.

Wrap it up, Mrs. Robinson.

“I’ll have the rent by tomorrow.” I take a step toward the bathroom hoping she will take the hint and get herself gone. I needed my ass in the shower five minutes ago when she let herself into my room in search of her ‘rent’.

“You . . .” She points to me, making that single word sound like an accusation.

Denise is propped up on my threadbare pillows, checking her manicure and snapping on a fresh piece of Wrigley’s. Her tits are motionless, silicone coconuts standing unnaturally high on her torso and half spilling out of her halter top.

Personally, I prefer whatever size mother nature designed. I’ll take a double A true-blue over triple D fakery any day.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble, you know that? I shoulda never rented you this room.”

A touch of her Brooklyn roots comes through.

“How am I going to get you in trouble?” I put one hand on my forehead and one on my chin and jerk my head around. The twist and the
pop pop pop
as much a part of my morning routine as taking a piss.

I blow out a breath, feeling the momentary pressure-release the neck cracking gives. I’ll do that twenty times today. I have to.

“
People talk
. And, I don’t even want to know what
Leon
would do if he thought something was going on
.
If he found out, we’re
both
dead. That lady in that back bedroom looks like a bible thumper. She might stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.” Denise’s shrill voice rakes on my nerves. “Everyone sees me come in here.” Denise adjusts her tits and I do my best to not roll my eyes.

“You come in here because you let yourself in here. That doesn’t mean shit. And there’s nothing to find out.” I’m tired of this game, I have places to be but I need to not get my ass evicted either.

“Well, there’s talk. I hear them whispering. That’s just as good as it actually happening, so why don’t we just . . .” She pats a spot on my bed next to her. Now I’m going to have to change the sheets, no way I’m laying myself down where she’s been.

I want to tell her if she didn’t howl like a fucking hyena on a fresh carcass everytime someone fucked her, maybe half the neighborhood wouldn’t know she lets half the male residents who rent rooms here know she’s getting boned twice a day and three times on Saturday.

Why I don’t have a better sense of self-preservation, I’m not sure. I should have been an asshole to her right from the get go. I should have seen this coming. I think the only reason she rented me the room was because she had on cock-colored glasses when she saw me.

But, if anything
was
going on, she’s right about Leon. He would probably kill me first, then kill her with my dead body.

I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower, shutting the door as much as I can because this place is so old and crooked, the door won’t close all the way. But, her mention of her boyfriend leave me with an uneasy feeling.

“You said Leon got picked up last night, right?” I have to yell over the rush of the shower as I stick my hand in to check the temperature. I drop my jeans which I’d slipped into when I got out of bed before Denise decided to make herself at home.

The steam is hanging in clouds and beginning to mist the mirror that is cracked like an old road map. Whoever mounted it must have been on their knees or ten years old. All I can see in it is the bottom of the shiny, textured skin on my left shoulder and the cut of my abs . . . along with the shadows of my ribs.

I need some groceries.

I like this mirror. My face is not my best feature.

I step into the shower trying to keep my thoughts about the day in check.

“Yep, he got picked up at the Diablo’s. That biker bar on 2
nd
.” I hear her raising her voice and the squeak of the bed springs just when I lean back into the steaming water, squirting shampoo into my hand.

Denise’s sharp voice makes me jump as she pokes her head around the shower curtain, her eyes shamelessly settling down below my waist with a wicked grin.

Fucking crazy woman, get out. I’ve got real life happening today.

“He’s in holding at county.” She glances up over my chest, avoiding my face, then back down. “Two warrants and he won’t see the judge ’til Monday.” She’s snapping her gum, and each time she does it my neck twitches.

“Do you mind?” She’s never pushed the limits this far and I would never hit a woman but I’m getting fucking pissed.

My twitching is nothing new, but she’s not helping. Today isn’t just another day. It’s when a judge decides what I already know. That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself without help from the State of Ohio.

Don’t climb in here with me, please.

I lay my head back into the stream of hot water and close my eyes. Luckily, when I look again, her face is gone.

I throw on the one dress shirt I own and a worn pair of khakis. It’s the best I’ve got, and it’s been my standard uniform for the many days I’ve found myself visiting the fifth district court over the years.

One swipe of my fingers through my hair and I’m ready. I can’t see myself in the damn mirror without bending down, but I’m sure I’m as presentable as need be. I grab my backpack, double check my files and sketchbook are inside, then deep breath, and I’m on my way. My hand is on the door, my mind already halfway down the street.

“Do you even know how old I am?” I spin my head around to look at Denise sitting on the edge of the bed. .

I grit my teeth until my jaw pops.

“No.”

Her eyes light on my face then dart away. I’m used to people looking away.

“Well, I’m not telling you.” She flashes me what she thinks is a coy smile, but it comes off as sad. She stands up and takes a step toward me. “But, I’m not too old for you. I could teach you some things.”

Jesus, whatever.

I should tell her she’s beautiful. That’s what she wants. But, I’ve never told anyone that. My mother was beautiful, and I don’t just mean in the physical sense. No woman since has made me think of that word.

“I’m leaving.” I should say something else.

Something nice, less pragmatic. Something nice.

She still won’t look at me, standing there with her silicone double D’s.

“Bye.” She chirps going for cute, and I don’t miss her added eyeroll.

She knows where I’m going, what I have to do today, and
she’s
pouting?

I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

My neck is aching, and I can’t stop the urge to twist and jerk my head three more times as I pull the door shut behind me.

Half a step down the hall leaving her in my room, but I don’t have shit to steal, so what do I care.

“Hey.” Denise’s voice is softer.

I turn and see her cross her arms over her half covered tits. Her bedroom is on the first floor, and this hallway has three other rented bedrooms besides mine.

“Good luck today.” She forces herself to look me in the eyes. I can see her counting silently, trying to maintain eye contact a few seconds longer than makes her comfortable. What is it about looking at someone’s face that isn’t like all the others that makes human’s so uncomfortable?

“Thanks,” I say.

She looks down at the floor after a few seconds, and I make my way toward the back door.

At the end of the hall, I’m already wondering who I’ll be at the end of the day. Will I feel different? Will there be any relief?

“I could fall in love with you, you know.” Her voice knocks me in the back of the head.

Oh, hell no.

I’m not turning around for that. Not now. Not today.