Ready to Fall (A Second Chance Bad Boy Next Door Romance)

by Anne Connor

He leads me out of the club, and by the time we leave the men are becoming more menacing. They’re menacing toward the women surrounding them. The men are outnumbered, but the women have no power. I don’t know if it’s because their clothes are off, but I can feel their fear.

  I’m afraid too, but I don’t know if I need to be. I don’t know if I have anything to be afraid of.

  Is it fear that I’m feeling, or something else?

  When Sean took me in his arms and danced with me, my body felt calm for a moment. Starting at the top of my head, and down to my toes, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I closed my eyes and put my head on his shoulder, and I breathed him in. I felt him. It was intense and I wanted it to last forever. But I knew it was just for a moment, and I didn’t know how long that moment would last.

  It was never supposed to happen. He didn’t have to rescue me. I never asked to be saved.

  We leave the last door of the club and we’re out on the floor of the casino again. I feel the night and its tempo on my skin as I walk in the high heels he bought me. He’s half a step behind me, and I don’t know if he’s looking at my body as he walks, or if his eyes are straight ahead. I don’t know if I’m keeping the dress and the shoes. I have no use for them.

  I wonder if it’s actually over. If my debt has been erased, and whether Sean will ever give another thought to my father ever again. And I wonder if he ever did give a thought to him, or if he was just a name on a piece of paper, or if my picture was just something he glanced at and then tucked into his pocket, or if I was more to him.

  Whether he did this to save me or just to fuck me. It doesn’t matter, though. I can still feel his lips on mine.

  My fingertips land on my collarbone. I feel my throat move as I swallow, and I want his mouth on my neck. The dull ache between my legs grows. I turn my head to look at his face, and his expression is stern and hard, like stone.

  We stop at his tiny studio apartment on the top floor of the hotel, and I gather up my clothing in a ball and shuffle into the bathroom. Inside, I slide out of the dress and leave it along with the shoes carefully on the large double vanity.

  I put my clothes back on. It feels wrong, and almost perverse to be putting these clothes back on now that he’s had me take them off. I look into the mirror as I lace myself into the corset, my arms contorted behind my back. I work myself back into it slowly.

  Swallowing thickly as I lace the satin strip of fabric through the last eyelet, I tie myself into the corset securely and go back out to see Sean.

  He’s sitting on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. But he is not at rest. He is ready to pounce at any moment. I can feel the energy coming off of him. His head turns and he looks at me, drawing his eyes up and down my body. Drinking me in. It’s almost time to say goodbye.

  “I promise to never let something like this happen to me again,” I say. He pats the bed next to him and I go over obediently to take a seat next to him. His action looks like he’s making a suggestion, but it feels more like a command. It feels like an order, and all I want to do is comply. My stomach flips and my pussy clenches as I sit down next to him.

  “I know, Cherry. I know you’ll never let this happen again.” His body feels hot and strong next to me. I want to reach out and touch him, but all I can do is allow my thigh to brush against his. His hand comes down on my knee and he squeezes before slowly moving down to the floor in front of me. His chest is broad and his eyes are intense, making me feel weak inside. He nudges my knees apart with a shoulder and puts his hands down on my thighs. “I know this wasn’t your doing. I know what happened with your father. I knew him.”

  I swallow thickly as I feel my blood run cold inside my veins. I knew he must know of my father - my father racked up the gambling debt, he knew these men, and even if he didn’t know Sean personally, I knew Sean must have been aware of Dad. But I didn’t know he knew him. I didn’t realize.

  Dad wasn’t the only one who ever called me Cherry. A lot of people have called me that. But Sean knew. He knew to call me that. He knew it would put me at ease. It’s what dad called me. It was his pet name for me. He said my hair was my most unique feature.

  “He was a good man, Cherry. But if he was better, he wouldn’t have done this to you.”

  The way he’s down on his knees makes it feel like he’s confessing something, or begging for forgiveness, or maybe he’s try to make me feel that I have control in this situation. It might even be working, if only a little. Because I know it’s all almost over. And my time with Sean is almost over, too.

  “He didn’t do anything to me,” I say. It’s the truth. The suggestion that my father caused this makes my heart feel heavy. “He couldn’t have known he would be unable to pay you back. There was no way for him to know I’d be trapped in the middle of all this.”

  His expression shifts, and I see his jaw clench down. His gorgeous lips part slightly, and then purse into a straight line as he pushes off the floor and grabs a black duffel bag from his closet.

  “Here,” he says, tossing it on the bed. “Pack up. Take your new shit with you. I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

  I can still feel his hands on me. He’s so cold now, though, and I move toward the bathroom to retrieve the new things he purchased for me. I carefully fold the dress and tuck the shoes in the bag, and start to zip everything up as he moves around behind me, packing a bag for himself.

  He tosses me a couple of t-shirts and boxers.

  “So you won’t have to sleep in...that.” His eyes scan up and down my body hungrily. I put the clothes inside the bag and zip it up.

  We leave the hotel silently. I don’t know that this isn’t a trap, and the thought crosses my mind. I don’t know him, and the thought that I’m putting my trust in him frightens me. But he said he knew my father. He softened when he said it. That alone is enough for me to follow him, to let him be my eyes, to guide me when I can’t even see my hands in the dark in front of my own face.

  We pass through a few doors that say Employees Only until we’re in a private underground parking garage. A few bright beep!s and we make our way to a black SUV. He takes our things and throws them in the back, and comes around to let me in the passenger side door.

  Part of me wants to walk away, but I don’t know where I’d go. Home, of course...but I don’t know if I’d be safe going there. He told me to stay with him, so I do. I don’t know what else to do right now.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask as he comes around to his side and gets in. The vehicle is large and smells new, and it’s high off the ground.

  “I have a place on the outskirts of the state. I’m going to get you there and keep you out there until this whole thing blows over. My uncle doesn’t like secrets.”

  “How long will I be there?” I ask. The air conditioner rumbles on and he guides us out of the garage, past lines of convertibles and SUVs. He handles the machine smoothly, like it’s an extension of himself. I lean my head back, take a long, deep breath, and close my eyes.

  “A few days. Not much longer than that, if anything. We just need to wait until my uncle forgets this ever happened. Just don’t come back to Vegas. Can you do that?”

  “Okay,” I whisper, defeated. I don’t have any good memories there, and it’s fine if I never have to go back. My ex liked to gamble, too, and drink. And Dad...it’s all enough to make me want to hide from it forever. “When I’m at your place, will I be allowed to leave?”

  “If I think it’s safe, then yes. I’m going to drop you there and then I have a job I need to do.”

  “What’s the job?” I ask. He glances over at me and shifts in his seat, saying nothing at all. His knuckles become white as he grinds his hands over the steering wheel, and I look straight ahead, closing my eyes, not knowing where I’m going.

  Sean

  The only thing blotting out the darkness is the two beams coming from my headlights. They’re enough to give me a headache. They’re unnatural. They shoot out straight ah
ead and I should cut them off. I’m not far enough from the road, though. If I cut the lights and a motorist veers off the road, another car could careen into ours. So I leave the lights on as I get out of my SVU.

  She’s sleeping in the front seat, her eyes closed softly and her head leaning against her window. God, what the fuck am I doing? If it weren’t for her, I’d probably sit in my car on the side of the road in total darkness and let whatever the fuck happens to just happen.

  I take out my pack of cigarettes and light up, taking a long drag. I fill my lungs completely and fully with the hot, soothing nicotine, and exhale, letting the smoke out in a straight stream into the sky above my face. It’s like a fuck-you to whatever’s up there.

  Because now I have her, and I don’t want to let her go.

  We’re about a forty miles out from where we need to be. I have a job to do, but it can wait. Plus I have a drop to make - I have to get Cherry to my house where I’ll stash her until my uncle forgets I ever had a girl who made me want to get down on one knee.

  My house out in the desert is small, but it’s comfortable. I don’t know if I’ll be able to give her permission to leave once she’s locked safely inside, though. I have the place souped up with security, but once she’s out, my fortress won’t be able to protect her. It only protects what’s inside the four walls of the house. It doesn’t extend out to the garden and the fountain where I have my red and white roses growing. She won’t be able to see what I’ve created, what I’ve grown. She’ll only be able to see what my work has been able to buy - a security system to keep her, my guns, and my money safe.

  Her father and I are opposites in a lot of ways. He had delusions - big ones, and in that regard maybe he could have made it in my world. Uncle would have liked him, in a small way, had they ever met and if it had been under different circumstances. Cherry’s father thought he could edge out an advantage over the house and that he could win. And I know he was always chasing that win. That’s why he got mixed up with me and my family. But I know he couldn’t stop once he won enough...nothing would be enough for him. He would have wanted more. Not because he was greedy. He wasn’t. But he did it because he wanted to believe he’d beaten the system. He wanted to know he was smarter and better and stronger. Than what, he wasn’t sure, I don’t think. Not smarter and better and stronger than another person. I think he wanted to be better than some machine, some system that he knew was stacked against him. He wanted to transcend. He wanted to prove something.

  I don’t think he ever thought the consequence of his vice would land on his daughter’s shoulders.

  There’s a town up ahead, and I think we’re almost there. It’s through muscle memory that I’m getting us where we’re going. Memory is leading us to where we need to be.

  My uncle sent me there to see him when he got sick, try to determine our exposure. I don’t know how the hell he knew the old man was sick, but I can guess. There’s good people all over who will do bad things for a price. It doesn’t make them bad. But everyone has their price.

  The hallway wasn’t putrid when I entered its wide berth to check on him. That’s the worse part. The smell was overpowering like alcohol, but it didn’t smell like death. That’s how I knew they were trying to cover up so much misery. It reminded me of mom, but I pushed those thoughts away. Instead, I thought about my old man. I thought about how he was there for me. I didn’t focus on why he had to be, though.

  I saw Cherry huddled over a low table with a little girl, coloring. Her father never told me his little girl had a little girl. He would have told me that. Cherry was in the waiting area of the hospital taking care of someone, but who was taking care of her? Everyone around her was being cared for, getting the best treatment in the state; but who was looking out for Cherry, besides herself?

  Her eyes were so red, and heat rose with pain through my body as I looked at her. She never looked up, though. Her eyes were trained down at the little girl. Cherry looked like she’d been crying, but her cheeks were dry. Her eyes were dry.

  Her old man told me that she didn’t cry when her mother left. She was too young to know. She cried after that, when she was a teenager, though. I imagined those hot tears streaming down her face, but in this hospital, I couldn’t see any tears on her face. I only saw the evidence that they left behind. Her eyes...they were so red. It made my heart clench up. It hurt me.

  And the sounds. It was too loud. She looked confused. I could see that she didn’t know where to look, what to focus on. So she just focused on the little girl she was with.

  I don’t have delusions. My cousins have told me I’m too pragmatic. That I’m too practical. But wanting Cherry right now is not fucking practical. Doesn’t matter, though.

  I make a call and get in touch with my contact in the hospital. I make the plan and tell him the price and he confirms that it’s a done deal.

  I look at Cherry. She’s motionless. I want to carry her away from all of this. All of it.

  I walk around my car and slice the beams from the headlights as I pass around the front. I get into the car and slam the door closed. Cherry doesn’t move. I don’t say anything. I let her sleep.

  Cherry

  The sound of my own throat wakes me. I cough and clear the sleep from the back of my mouth, but I don’t open my eyes. For some reason, I feel a smile play on my lips. Maybe I was dreaming about something nice, but I don’t remember.

  The air inside his car is like silk on my skin. My head is leaning against the window; I turn my head to see him. He swallows and I look out the window past him, sitting up, taking in my surroundings just past the window.

  “Why are we here?”

  I look out the window past him, at the drop-off area of the Emergency Room where my father was brought months ago. I remember like it was yesterday, because I play that day over in my head every day. It’s stayed with me like it’s fresh and new, but every time I remember it, it changes slightly. Maybe that’s my survival instinct taking over, trying to get distance from it so I can move on. Maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe it’s something I can’t ever understand.

  Like what he was wearing. It changes every time I remember the day.

  “I wanted to see him,” he says. “And I thought you might want to come with me.”

  I clear my throat again as he shifts into gear, slowly driving into a nearby parking space. I pause for a moment as he unbuckles his seatbelt. I don’t know if I want to do this, but I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to leave Sean’s side, so I unbuckle my seatbelt and let it snap away through my fingers.

  The only thing I hear is his feet on the ground beneath us and the slamming of our doors behind us, stopping the faint dinging coming from inside his vehicle. He comes around and I steady myself against his car, falling backwards. I feel lightheaded and a little sick.

  “I’ve got you,” he says. “It’s going to be okay.”

  He smiles at me softly and nods, sliding his hand around my waist. I feel light in his arms, and even though I struggle to move my feet against the black asphalt, he has me. He’s holding me as we make our way across the freshly painted white lines of the parking lot. There aren’t many cars here tonight.

  “What time is it?” I ask. “Visiting hours must have been over a while ago.”

  “It’s late,” he says.

  We go through the doors into the hospital. It’s a different entrance than I went through the last time I came to visit Dad about three days ago, before the men came and told me it was the final warning for the payment. I kneeled by his bed and kissed his hand before I resolved to be strong and pay and not run away from the debt. I’d clear it for him. I could do it for him. I gave myself the illusion of choice - I could do it or I could run away. I still don’t know if running would have been an option.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I don’t know if I ever thanked you for all of this.”

  “Don’t,” Sean replies.

  He keeps me standing up as we make a l
eft down a bright hallway, and we get into an elevator and go to a floor I’m not familiar with. My heart flutters when we get off at the floor with the private rooms. Sean leads me to a spacious room, and I look through the window, and dad’s in there looking peaceful on his bed, surrounded by flowers.

  It’s not where I left him. I left him downstairs, in a room where he was crowded in with another patient. He had no privacy, and when I wanted to visit him, I was limited to strict visiting hours.

  Sean pushes the door open, and I look up at him before I enter. Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I rush over to Dad, throwing my arms around his chest. I catch myself and back away slowly, careful not to interfere with any of the machines he’s hooked up to.

  I swallow thickly as I ease slowly and carefully into a big, oversized chair. Sean’s outside, his arms crossed over his chest, a steely expression on his face. He’s standing guard, but he doesn’t have to. No one else is around. I don’t know how he’s done this, but we’re the only ones on the floor.

  Dad’s breathing, though maybe the machines he’s hooked up to are actually doing the breathing for him. He’s been in a coma for three months. At first they put him in the coma to help with the swelling in his brain after the stroke. Now, he’s still in the coma. They don’t know when he’ll come out of it, and what his functionality will be when he does. If he does.

  Leaning forward, I take his hand. The last time I saw him, I kissed him on the hand, even though he has an IV drip hooked up. I used to be afraid of needles. Now, after seeing what he’s going through, I’m not.

  “So I heard you’re friends with Sean,” I say, laughing. “Turns out we’re engaged. Sort of. You always wanted me to find a nice guy, right?”

  All I want is for him to respond. I don’t know what he would say. He was always easy to read, but I have no idea what he would say to me now.

  I sniffle a little bit and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.