Page 19 of Hell of a Mess

Sixteen

Lace

It was so dark. I didn’t like the dark. Mommy had never made me sit in the dark. Even at night, she would make sure my magical fairy light, which kept all the monsters away, was on. But she wasn’t here.

My eyes filled with tears again. I didn’t want to think about her.

Every time I did, it wasn’t the happy things.

All I could see was her head go under the water and not come back up again.

T—the man whose boat we had been on—had called her name over and over, then jumped into the water to get her, but he didn’t find her. She’d gone too deep.

I let out a sob and curled tighter into a ball. I had cried her name as loudly as I could, but she hadn’t heard me either. Now she was gone. And I was left here. In the dark.

Keeping my eyes tightly closed, for fear of what I would see in the shadows if I opened them, I shivered from the cold. There weren’t any blankets down here. I wanted to cover my body and my head. Disappear beneath them the way Mommy had in the lake. I hoped Mommy was warm wherever she had gone.

I refused to believe she was in hell, although my father had said that was where she went.

If anyone was going to hell, it would be him.

Mommy was too bright and loving to go there.

I tried hard not to see her head going under the water and thought about her smile, the way she had smelled, and how she had looked like a beautiful princess.

Her whispers in my ear that I was her best girl.

The hot tears ran down my cheeks, and I shivered, reminding me of how cold it was getting. I missed her. I wanted her to come back. I hated the darkness. I hated my father, and he…hated me.

“Lace!” The deep voice that said my name broke through the darkness, and my eyes flew open.

Blinking, I tried to focus. Where was I?

A large warm hand cupped the side of my face as hazel eyes studied me.

“Luther?” I choked out, still confused.

“Yeah,” he replied with a husky voice that sounded as if he’d just woken up.

I glanced around the room. The moonlight streamed in through the windows. I was at his house. I was safe.

“Why are you here?” I asked him.

His eyes moved from my chin and back up to meet mine. “You were crying and whimpering and shivering pretty damn hard. Even after I covered you up with another blanket.”

The basement. I’d been in the basement. I had been dreaming. And the cold that seeped into me from those memories couldn’t be warmed with a blanket. It was soul-deep.

“A nightmare,” I replied, feeling embarrassed that he’d witnessed it. Had I been that loud?

“About your mom?” he asked.

There wasn’t pity in his gaze. The relief from that had me nodding my head.

“At first,” I told him. Then it always went darker.

His hand fell from my cheek, and I wanted to grab it and put it back. Somehow, his touch had managed to warm the ice that always settled in my bones after dreams like that one. I was afraid it would return if he moved away.

“You good now?” he asked me.

I should tell him yes and let him go. But for the first time since I’d lost my mother, I didn’t feel alone.

I shook my head. “No,” I replied. “Stay.”

The torn expression on his face had me instantly regretting it. He wanted to leave. Of course he did. He was probably tired, and I’d interrupted his sleep.

“I mean, never mind. I’m fine. Thank you,” I stammered out, scooting away from him.

It was best I didn’t start wanting comfort. I’d lived without it long enough. It was dangerous to rely on it now.

He sighed, then stood up. My chest tightened as fear already began to creep in. When I closed my eyes, would the memory continue in my sleep? The worst of it? The monsters in the dark—they always returned.

“Scoot over,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I whispered, not sure I’d heard him correctly.

“Move over, Ocean Eyes,” he said more firmly this time but used that nickname for me again. One that no one else had ever used.

I did as instructed, and Luther pulled the covers back, then did a small shake of his head and pulled them over me again before sitting down on top.

My eyes traveled down his body for the first time to find he was shirtless and in a pair of athletic shorts.

I sucked in a breath. His arms were corded with defined muscle and decorated with tattoos that I couldn’t make out in the darkness, as was his chest. I wondered if the artwork was also on his back.

He leaned against the headboard instead of lying down and crossed his arms over his chest. “Get some rest,” he told me, closing his eyes.

Was he going to sleep sitting up?

“That looks uncomfortable,” I said hesitantly.

I shouldn’t have asked him to stay.

“It’s fine. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here to fight off the demons.”

He didn’t open his eyes and look at me when he said it, but I stared at him. My chest felt tight and…warm. The desire to curl up against him and soak in the heat he seemed to stir inside me was there, but I knew better. He would most likely bolt from the room if I did that.

Forcing myself to close my eyes, I found a peace in the silence that was as foreign to me as the warmth, and I drifted away into a blank bliss, where the monsters were quiet.

There were tattoos on his back. I stared at the artwork of a tiger with bloodthirsty eyes and his mouth wide open.

It then morphed into a skull. The artistry behind it was brilliant yet somber.

A dangerous living being that wielded its power, yet a reminder of how all things had an end.

Mortality. I caught myself before reaching out to touch it.

At some point, Luther had decided to lie down last night.

His back was to me, and I was okay with that.

Waking up to the sight of his wide shoulders, sculpted back, and the dark beauty he’d had inked onto it was a pleasant surprise.

Although my cheeks heated when I thought about how I’d asked him to stay last night.

Somehow, I had known his being here would keep my nightmares away, and they had. I’d slept without dreaming.

I hoped he had slept well. At least he’d lain down. He was still on top of the covers though.

My gaze drifted down his back to the rest of his very impressive body. Even his legs were sexy. Tanned, muscular, and possibly the only area he didn’t have a tattoo.

“You done checking me out?” His voice was raspy and deep, causing me to jump.

Staring at the back of his head now, my eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment. How had he known I was awake and looking at him?

“I, um…I, uh…was admiring your tattoo.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Hmm,” he hummed and stretched. “Sure you were.”

The warmth in my face went up about twenty degrees.

“I was,” I insisted. “It’s a beautiful piece.”

He turned onto his back and cut his half-lidded eyes at me. “It is, huh?” he asked, amused. “It’s a tattoo, not a work of art.”

I disagreed. “No, it’s definitely art with an impactful message. Stunning yet a jarring reality.”

He shifted then and narrowed his gaze, appearing more awake. “What message is that?”

Did he not know? Had he chosen it because he found some sketch and liked it, not understanding the depth behind it?

“Well, the tiger—it’s magnificent yet threatening. Yet even it isn’t immortal. It, too, will face an end.”

There was a glint in his eyes. One that said he was impressed, that I’d surprised him.

“That is exactly what it means,” he said.

So, he did know. He’d chosen it for more than the way it looked.

“You’re the first female who has noticed or even mentioned it,” he said, then sat up. “But then I don’t normally fuck the smart ones. They require too much conversation.”

He stood up and stretched yet again. I held my breath, enjoying the view. When he started for the door, I sat up quickly, wanting to think of some reason to stop him. I wasn’t ready for him to go.

“Thank you,” I blurted out as his hand grabbed the doorknob.

He nodded his head once, then glanced back at me. “Let’s keep this between us, yeah?” he said.

“Okay,” I replied, although I wasn’t going to mention it to anyone anyway. It was embarrassing. I was an adult with a fear of the dark.

When the door closed behind him, I sank back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Today, I would have to face all that I had hidden from yesterday. The lies, my truths, my future.

And my father…

Alpheus…wasn’t my biological father. The man who had given me half of my DNA was in the Mafia. I didn’t even know how he felt about this.

I’d left with Jayda and not come out of this room since. But I couldn’t stay in here forever. Even if I wanted to.