by Katie Cross
* * *
Benjamin: Is she leaving?
* * *
Maverick: Just do it. Drop Ava off at our place. She can spend the night.
* * *
Benjamin: The night?
* * *
Maverick: Trust me.
My heart thudded in my chest as I steered the SUV back toward Pineville, the text conversation with Maverick still plodding through my mind. Ava and I had been busy at work with our plan to win Serafina back from my boneheaded ways for the last couple of hours, but we wouldn't be ready for another day or two. I'd intended on giving Serafina some space, but one look at Maverick's expression when I dropped Ava off and I knew something had gone terribly wrong. He hadn't said a word, but he hadn't needed to. I'd simply handed Ava's bag over, gave her a hug, and disappeared.
Twilight had long since settled, giving way to the dark shadows of night. Gentle illumination came from the top of the Frolicking Moose when I parked around the other side, in the empty lot for the salon. The less advance notice she had of my arrival, the less likely she'd ignore me.
I hoped.
Main Street lay oddly empty when I crossed around the front of the coffee shop, then headed to the back door. Her bike, which she hadn't ridden in a while, was chained to a wall still. A good sign, taken with the buttery lamplight from above.
Heart in my throat, I tried the door. It was locked. When I knocked, the door rattled a little. When a minute passed and she hadn't answered, I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.
Benjamin: It's me downstairs. Can we talk?
Thirty seconds later, shadows in the dark shop shifted near the stairs. Serafina appeared, her expression wary. She wore a pair of loose sweatpants, flip flops, and her hair lay in glossy, wet curls around her shoulders. Her makeup had been scrubbed off. Not even concealer could have hidden the weariness of her eyes. Were her cheeks red from tears or the shower?
She stared at me through the window, hand halfway to the doorknob. I held my breath. Never had I felt so unravelled. Years of my life and a child with Sadie had never made me feel this way. Like my fate, my life was wrapped up in another person that walked around with my heart in her hands. Like I'd never be complete without them.
Like everything revolved around that woman staring at me with her soul in her eyes.
Finally, she reached for the doorknob.
I let out the breath when she pulled the door open. She leaned her face against it and quietly asked, “What did Maverick tell you?”
My brow furrowed. “Nothing.” My expression tightened with deepening concern. “What is there to tell me?”
Her nostrils flared as she considered me, then she shuffled back and motioned up with a jerk of her head.
“Come inside.”
The sound of the lock sliding home followed her closing the door. I waited until she started up the stairs first, and nearly choked on the coconut scent that followed her. My fingers itched to bury themselves in her hair. To take all of her in and kiss the pain out of her gaze.
The silence accompanied us to the top of the stairs. Once there, she stepped into her loft with a breath that sounded like a burdened sigh. I paused just off the stairs, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
I hadn't seen the loft since before she moved in, but it didn't require any familiarity to know that someone had wreaked havoc on her space. The cushions had been ripped open, with stuffing spilled out. The shells lay empty now. Scratch marks in the paint that Maverick and I had painstakingly put on the walls. Broken television screen. A tied garbage bag sat near the door, stuffed full with what appeared to be clothes and the sharp edges of glass.
“What happened?” I asked.
Serafina folded her arms across her middle. “I think it was Amber, but we're not sure. Maverick gave the security footage to Jayson as part of the evidence gathering this afternoon. I haven't seen anything yet.”
My jaw ticked. This afternoon. Was this before or after Maverick called me and chewed me out? I skimmed the room, relieved to not see any broken windows. Then I turned back to her.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded vaguely, then motioned to the couch. The cushions were all there, but the second one was limp and nearly empty. She sat on the far cushion, which appeared half-full of stuffing, and motioned me onto the good one on the opposite side. I didn't want to sit. I wanted to pace. To hit something.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
“Sera,” I whispered. “I'm sorry.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. She had her bent leg tucked up against her chest as she studied me.
“Sorry?”
I waved a helpless hand. “I . . . I should have been here earlier.”
She shrugged that off. Her eyes dropped from mine as she gazed around. “It's not a big deal. I . . . I'm not really attached to any of this stuff and I just need a few more days anyway.”
My throat tightened. “What?”
“I, uh . . . I gave my two weeks notice today.” She met my gaze, but there was an unsteadiness there that nearly robbed my courage. “Dagny thinks she wants the lease and Bethany is going to talk to her about it tomorrow. If Bert doesn't need me, I may be able to leave in a few days.”
Leave. My mind could barely comprehend the word.
“Do you want to?”
She blinked. Her lips moved several times, but no sounds came out. “It's what's best,” she finally said. She picked at something on her pant leg as a heavy silence followed. My thoughts whirled, knocked totally off balance.
What could I say now?
Did her plan negate everything I'd just concluded and decided and felt? If she would only be here a few more days, then maybe she wanted to go to . . . wherever she'd be next. Maybe she wanted out and couldn't wait to get away from Pineville. Would it be selfish of me to divulge the way I felt now?
Or worse to hold it back?
I'd certainly been guilty of making decisions on her behalf in the past, which landed us in this exact position. If I'd let her tell me what she felt, maybe she never would have given that two weeks notice.
“I wasn't going to leave,” she said and broke apart my thoughts. “At least not yet. I told you I'd give you a week and . . .” She trailed away for a second, then picked it back up. “After I got your text this morning, I realized you didn't need me anymore. I was hurt. I felt . . . pushed out of your life. Out of Ava's life.”
Her admittance felt like a crater in my chest. Gaping. Empty. Smoking. Filled with ash and brimstone and something ugly. The irony was darkly comical, but I could barely summon the strength to even breathe. I'd sent that text to help her, to give her some space. Clearly, I had no idea what happened in Serafina's mind.
The silence must have been longer than I thought. “Please,” she whispered, her brow heavy. “Say something, Ben.”
“Didn't need you?” I croaked. “Serafina . . . I love you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. The words rolled out of me now, pressured. Intense. Brought from the depths of the cavern inside me that she'd left behind. They'd never felt so right.
“Not just because you take care of us. But because you are light and goodness and warmth and concern and everything I've always wanted but never had. You're the other half, Sera. The only other half of our family. Not just me, but Ava too. She loves you. She fought for you. She was so angry at me today that I . . . I realized it was my turn to be a fighter too.”
Tears filled her eyes when I reached across the space and grabbed her arm. She hiccuped, like she was trying to hide a sob.
“Sera, I love you.”
“What about Sadie?” she whispered.
Sadie. My heart clenched, but I forced it to release. “I found a counselor just a few hours ago, one that can speak with me and Ava apart, and then together. Ava agreed to go. We both need it. You're right. Sadie has some power over me still, and I've let her. I've been so afraid of becoming her that I've forgotten how to trust myself. And others,�
� I tacked on.
My fingers slipped down her arm and wrapped around hers. She accepted them, threading hers through mine, and my heart soared with the hope it inspired. I wasn't out of the darkness yet, but one step closer.
“I came back to ask you what you wanted,” I said. “Instead of trying to save you from me, I . . . realized it was your choice. That you deserve the chance to say something. So I want to ask you what you wa—”
“You.” She nodded. “I want you and Ava and I want to stay and I want to try this out as someone that deeply cares about both of you, not as a nanny or paid employee or any of that. I want a chance, Ben.”
My heart fluttered. “Us?” I whispered. “It can't be just me. You'll never get just me.”
“Both of you,” she said quietly.
Her fingers squeezed mine.
There were things to talk about. Long discussions to have that would seal this. Expectations. Alignment. We had issues to sort through and talk about, but none of that mattered. The eagerness in her voice. The bittersweet agony in her expression. That was all that mattered now.
I yanked her off the cushion and into my arms. Her warm body slammed into my chest, but before she could so much as grunt over it, I had my hands on her face. My fingers in her hair. My lips on hers. The smell of coconut filled my nostrils until I considered the fact that I might have died.
Serafina.
In my arms.
And that would never change.
30
Serafina
Benjamin's lips on mine felt like coming home.
I lay on top of him until he broke the kiss. In a move so fast I didn't comprehend what happened until it was too late, he wrapped an arm around my waist and swept me down. A breath later, I lay on my back on the couch and stared up at him. His weight was heavy on top of me, but not crushing. Breathless, I reached up to touch his face.
“Ben?”
“I'm sorry, Serafina. I'm so sorry.”
Tears spilled out of my eyes again. “Me too. I don't want to leave. And I'm scared. I think Amber did all this and I don't want to be alone and what if she—”
He silenced me with the gentlest of kisses. The ease of his lips against mine stole my breath again. His hand splayed across my cheeks and into my hair. He held me so close that I felt my heart slam against him. My fears quieted.
Benjamin had me now, and this security wasn't a dream.
“You're not staying here tonight,” he growled. “It's not safe. You're coming home with me, where I'll keep you safe. And if you say no, then I'll sleep here. And if you say no to that, I'll sleep on the floor downstairs.”
Laughing, I said, “I won't say no.”
He smiled softly and tucked a piece of hair behind my ears. “Good. Because you belong with me, Sera. I still can't figure out what you see in me. Why you'd want to spend more time with me, but . . . I don't want to lose this. To lose you. So I'll trust it. I'll trust you.”
With our eyes locked, I could see the vulnerability there. The lines of uncertainty that held up a man with deeper emotions than I ever realized.
“You make me feel safe, Ben,” I murmured, my voice husky. My finger traced the edge of his lips. “Alive. You make me . . . you make me want to stay and I've never felt that before. You make me feel tangled up in something bigger and better than me. You give me a reason to wake up in the morning and giggle through the day and something to look forward to. You're my light.”
He covered my lips with his, taking absolute possession of my soul. As if he scooped into my chest and cradled my heart in his hands. I felt utterly swept away. Lost in the winds of his feelings for me. My joints became liquid so that I sank into him, lost in the heat of his kiss and the touch of his hand.
He pulled away, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to mine.
“Come home with me, Sera? Let me keep you safe and we'll figure all of this out as it happens?”
I smiled, my lips a breath from his.
“You got it, Mercedy.”
Benjamin reached for my hand as I slung my backpack over my shoulder and locked the loft door. He held my laundry basket full of dirty clothes and other necessities with his other arm. The shop lay in darkness as we left it behind and I followed him down the spiral stairs. He didn't let me go.
I didn't want him to.
Stars had broken out in the sky over the reservoir when we stepped into the parking lot. Water lapped at the reeds not far away, and the deep, mournful cry of a bird came from somewhere out on the water. The fresh air was cool and refreshing on my cheeks. Ben sent me a quick, secretive smile as he pulled me into his side and nudged me toward the front at the same time.
“I parked over there.” He jerked his head to the right. “We just need to walk around.”
“Afraid I'd lock you out?” I quipped with a grin.
He laughed. “Yes, actually. And perhaps that would have been deserved.”
With a giggle, I caught up to his side, deliriously happy to be headed back home with him. Away from the loft and the loneliness I'd been ready to carry with me into the night. Back into Benjamin and Ava's life, where I belonged.
The scrape of a shoe on gravel stopped us a second later. Benjamin paused, eyes on two shadows leaning against the wall of the coffee shop. They were just out of reach from the streetlight, their faces obscured in the darkness. He dropped the laundry basket and gently nudged me behind him with a hand, his entire body tense now. He stood tall, with his legs slightly braced.
“Get back, Sera,” he murmured.
The shadows changed as the two men straightened and slowly advanced. The one on the left was broad shouldered, meaty and thick. A dark scowl crossed his features that made my stomach sink. The other was scrawny, with twitchy hands and bulbous eyes that darted all over the place.
A cold feeling of fear swept through me when his froggy gaze landed on me.
“Ben?” I murmured.
“Call 911 and get someone over here.”
Ben stood his ground in front of me, but his gaze darted quickly around. No others approached, and the lack of traffic on the street left a ringing silence in the air. Even the usual shouts from the bar down the road didn't reach here. If I screamed, would anybody hear?
“You have five seconds to turn around and leave,” Ben said calmly to the approaching men, “before I kick your asses into the next town.”
The bigger of the two snorted, but the smaller had the brains to look nervous. He looked beyond me, then back to Benjamin. Where are you, Amber? I thought, but saw no sign of her. This had her written all over it.
“I didn't sign up for this!” the smaller cried. “I'm not fighting Benjamin Mercedy.”
The larger one shoved him. “Shut up. It's two against one. I could fart on him and this guy would collapse.”
“Call 911,” Ben said quietly again.
My heart stammered nervously as I reached for my phone, then something solid hit my arm with a breathtaking crack.
I shouted and stumbled to my knees, my phone clattering uselessly on the ground. Pain ricocheted through my right arm, all the way to my neck, like electric ropes. Heat I'd never known followed. White stars broke across my vision as a vague, guttural yell followed the pain. Ben shouted, disappeared, and a scuffle of shoes on pavement began.
I tried to shove to my feet, but another whack slammed into my right side. The blow came just below my ribs, into the fleshy part of my side. I doubled over with another cry of pain, my breath gone. The sound of fists hitting flesh followed and screeches followed as I tumbled to the ground. Whoever shouted, it wasn't Ben.
A third whack followed, but this one glanced off my thigh.
A bat.
Someone had just hit me with a bat.
“Give me your money!” Amber cried. She hovered just over me, feral animosity in her wild eyes. “Your brother owes me and I'm going to get my money.”
Gasping, I tried to struggle off my back, but she shoved me with a foot. My t
eeth gritted as my right elbow slammed into the ground, and another round of fresh pain spiraled through my body. Nausea welled up in my stomach.
“Get it!” she screamed.
With a ringing sound in my eyes, I ripped the backpack strap off my left shoulder with that hand. My right arm, still pulsing, cradled uselessly against my stomach. I blinked to clear my vision. Benjamin stood before the larger of the two, arms high, body crouched. The man had a streak of blood from his nose across his cheek and a hideous glower darkening his expression. He seemed cautious now and unwilling to advance. The second already moaned on the ground, inert on his left side.
“Come on big guy,” Ben muttered. “I'm not even winded yet.”
“Where is your money?” Amber shouted and pulled my attention back. “Give it to me now.”
“Here.” Any attempt to be careful was lost. I extricated the backpack. My right arm jarred as I pulled the strap off. Another bolt of fire nearly took my breath away. “Take it. Call . . . them off.”
The words wheezed out of me as my breath slowly returned. The dull, throbbing ache on my side was no match for my broken arm, but now it tingled. My brain desperately tried to focus, but I could barely see. Benjamin filled my mind, a mere dark blur moving in the background now.
Amber stepped out of the shadows of the building again, bat held high.
“The bag already!” she screamed.
With a grunt, I threw the backpack away from me with my left arm. The desperate look in her eyes set my teeth on edge as she scrambled for the bag. Her hair spiraled around her in a crazy mass, her skin pale and splotchy. A thin tank top strap dropped down one bony, dirty shoulder.
“You took him from me!” she cried. “I loved him. I loved him!”
What drug was she on to cause such a freakish tirade? Her eyes were wide and dilated, like a frightened horse. She paced back and forth, the bat on her shoulder. She pointed it at me and let out a shrill scream as she reached for the bag. Behind us, Benjamin circled the bigger man. Every few steps, he'd lash out like a tiger, then retreat. The other guy could barely keep up. His confidence seemed to be waning, even as he attempted to advance with sheer brawn.