by L A Cotton
“She came for you.”
He nodded, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “I was engaged to marry Stella but in that moment, when I pictured my wife—the future mother to my children—I saw your mother’s face. I broke things off with Stella and made plans to move to England. It wasn’t an easy decision. Your grandparents reacted badly. They already considered Stella part of the family—by hurting her I also hurt them, deeply. It took a long time for me to repair that.”
So much made sense now. Why they never visited. Rarely called. It wasn’t until we were older that Dad talked about his family more. When he’d suggested visiting them last summer, Mum hadn’t been keen. I’d overheard an argument but put it down to Mum’s reluctance to leave Elliot, even though he was off doing his own thing most of the time.
“She didn’t want to come, last summer,” I said. “Mum didn’t want to come, did she?”
“No. Your grandparents blamed her. I left for her, Lo. I was young. I gave up so much. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Marrying your mother was the best decision of my life. It gave me two wonderful children.” He swallowed as if the words we painful. “And I loved my life in Surrey very much.”
“What changed?”
“Excuse me?” Dad’s voice wasn’t defensive, just confused.
“You said you loved your life, what changed?”
“The accident, how you dealt with things, you know—”
“Don’t lie to me, Dad. There’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it in your eyes.”
He released a heavy sigh, and I braced myself. “When Elliot left for Oxford University and you started making plans for your future, I realised how much time had gone by. You would soon be off having families of your own and I’d barely spoken to mine in twenty years. It was time to make amends. That’s why I wanted to make the trip.”
There was more. Even now, he wasn’t telling me everything. I don’t know how I knew, but I did. The real reason—the truth behind all of this.
“You wanted to move back here, didn’t you?”
Sadness washed over his face and I had my answer. “Yes. There was an opportunity at Stone and Associates and Gentry wanted me to come on board. It was time.”
“And Stella?”
“I promise, Stella wasn’t in the picture then. I wanted to make the move with your mother, and you and Elliot, if you wanted to come.”
“And if we didn’t?
His face blanched until he was as white as a sheet.
“You were coming anyway,” I whispered, the words punctuating the air.
“Lo.”
I held up my hand to silence him, trying to digest everything. “You were going to leave us?”
“Eloise, please. It isn’t like that.”
“Did she know?” The words spewed out of me. “Did Mum know?”
“She knew I wanted to move back, yes, but she didn’t know—”
“Oh my God, she didn’t know. She didn’t know you were leaving. She died, and she didn’t know. You bastard, get out. GET OUT!” My voice was no longer my own as I heaved ragged breaths, my hold on reality slipping.
“Lo, please, let’s talk abou—”
“GET OUT!” I yelled over and over, tears flowing down my face as I pressed my palms into my thighs.
Dad left, but not before silently pleading with me to let him explain. I sank to the floor, rocking forward and backward. Mum didn’t know. She didn’t know Dad wanted to leave—with or without us. That he woke up one day and decided his life in Surrey was no longer enough. Maybe it should have brought me comfort that she didn’t know, that her last breaths in this life were full of love. But it was a lie.
It was all a lie.
Dad hadn’t brought me here out of desperation, to save me from a path of self-destruction. He’d brought me out of guilt because I had no one else in Surrey. I had no other grandparents or aunts or uncles to take me in if I didn’t want to move halfway across the world. And although when we first arrived at the Stone-Prince house, I couldn’t wait to leave, now it felt like he was taking me away from the only other people I had. I’d forged a strange bond with Kyle, and with time, I knew me and Summer could become good friends, but once we moved out how would that work? Would I be out of sight, out of mind? Would they all be as happy to see us go as I once originally felt about the day we’d leave here?
The urge to drown out the storm raging inside of me with whatever I could find in Gentry’s liquor cabinet was strong. So strong I almost leapt up and ran into the house. But that would get me nowhere besides an unwanted hangover tomorrow. I wanted to scream. To throw my arms wide and yell until my lungs hurt and every last ounce of breath left my body.
My life was built on a lie.
Everything I believed about my parents fairy tale now tainted by the truth.
“Hey.”
I met Summer’s concerned gaze. I hadn’t heard her slip inside the pool house. She came and sat on the floor beside me. “That bad, huh?”
“You could say that.” I swiped my tears with my arm, sniffling back another sob.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “We can just sit.”
Seconds turned into minutes, but she didn’t push. And I was grateful. I needed time to process. The stream of tears slowed and dried on my cheeks making the skin feel sticky.
“How are you?” I asked, rolling my head to her.
“You’re the one sitting in a pool of your own tears and you want to know how I am?” Summer chuckled softly. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.”
“And Nick?”
“He’s good. We’re taking it slow. Thank you,” she paused, chewing her bottom lip in between her teeth. “For not telling them.”
“It was your secret to tell.”
“Macey hates you for it.”
“She hated me anyway.”
The youngest Stone-Prince shook her head, blonde wisps of hair blowing across her face. “She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t let people get close. Especially ones that look like you.”
My eyebrows quirked up, and she smiled again. “Oh, come on, Lo, you’re gorgeous. Which makes you competition.” Summer winked.
“Competition, are you serious?”
“Who knows with my sister, but I can see why she’d feel threatened by you. You’re so normal and nice and pretty. You don’t care what anyone thinks of you and you’re not out to win a popularity contest.”
“Neither are you,” I said, a little taken aback. It was the most I’d ever heard Summer speak.
“No, but I’m Summer Stone-Prince. People will expect me to follow in their footsteps.”
“Popularity is overrated.”
“So is sitting on a tile floor in a pool of your own tears.” I heard the amusement in her voice and nudged her in the side with my elbow. “Come on,” she said. “Your dad left and Loretta baked a bunch of stuff.”
“Cookies?”
“I think so.”
I followed Summer up and used a towel to dry my face. “Lead the way, oh young one.”
We made our way to the main house. Kyle’s head snapped up. “Thank God, I was about to send a rescue party.”
I flipped him off and slid onto a stool, helping myself to a cookie. “No Laurie tonight?”
“Homework calls. So, what did your dad want?”
“The house is ready.”
“No, you can’t leave us.” His face paled, and it reassured me a little that things wouldn’t change between us just because I no longer lived here. “Things just got interest—”
The sound of raised voices silenced Kyle, and the three of us looked at the door leading to the hallway.
“Fuck that, Mom, I don’t need…” Maverick’s voice trailed off as Rebecca tried to reason with her son in hushed tones.
“Maybe we should…” I started, but they were already in the doorway, Rebecca’s face ashen as a man I didn’t recognise
pushed past them and entered the kitchen taking the air with him.
“Kyle, good to see you again,” the man said in a measured tone. Kyle stiffened and mumbled a reply. “And you must be Robert’s daughter, Louise, was it?” He rounded the island and held out his hand. In a charcoal suit, pristine white shirt, and shiny silver cufflinks, he oozed money. But his eyes were the giveaway.
I glanced over his imposing figure to Maverick. His eyes were hard. Cold. And a shiver worked its way through my body.
“Hello.” I took Alec Prince’s hand. “I’m Eloise Stone.”
He tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. “The pleasure is mine, Eloise. I trust Maverick and Macey have made you welcome?”
“They have.”
Kyle choked on something and we all looked over at him. He slammed a hand to his chest and waved us off murmuring something about a, “Chocolate chip got stuck.”
“Well, excuse me. Maverick and I have some business to take care of. Kyle, Summer, it was nice to see you both again.”
He turned on his heels and marched out of the room, his gaze boring into his son’s as he went. Maverick scrubbed a hand down his face, gave Rebecca a pointed look and went after his father.
“I’m sorry about that.” Rebecca came over to us, the colour slowly returning. “He wasn’t supposed to come here.”
He wasn’t?
“Your father.” She looked to Kyle. “He’s not…”
“Don’t fret it, Momma P, Dad is still at the office.”
The tension on Rebecca’s face seemed to lift. It didn’t totally evaporate, but she seemed lighter knowing my uncle wasn’t yet home.
Something crashed, like the sound of glass against a wall, and Rebecca dashed out of the room muttering under her breath. Kyle tore his eyes from the doorway and looked at me. “I’d better go help. You two, stay here, got it?”
“Kyle, don’t you think—”
“Stay here, Lo.” He warned.
Then he was gone.
A door slammed somewhere in the house, reverberating off the walls, and then the screech of tyres could be heard outside.
“Here we go again,” Summer sighed under her breath and I wanted to ask her what she meant, but Kyle appeared in the doorway and his face said it all.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
“Oh my God.” Bile rushed up my throat, burning my insides, as I raked my sleepy gaze over Maverick. “What did you do?”
His head turned slowly, and he smirked despite the split in his lip, which was still dripping blood. “You should see the other guy.”
“Maverick,” his name fell from my lips like a curse. He hadn't talked to me since the kiss—the one we’d both pretended never happened. There had been nothing except for the odd heated stare or elusive text message. I thought we were done, yet here he was standing bloody and beaten in the pool house. His eyes darted to the boxes Dad left, and he swallowed hard. “When do you leave?”
I shrugged, unable to tear my eyes from the devastation that literally was his face. “Dad thinks it'll be the end of next week.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked again.
“You should let me look at that.” I motioned to his face, expecting him to refuse my offer. Instead, Maverick perched on one of the stools and dropped his head in a nod. Maybe he was just too exhausted to argue.
I didn't dwell on it as I hurried to the bathroom and retrieved the small first aid kit I knew was in the cabinet. When I returned, I ground to a halt. Seeing his face, his shredded knuckles, hurt me far more than it should have. But I'd come to accept that where Maverick was concerned, I didn't have a choice.
I never had.
Not since that very first night. I couldn't just switch off my irrational feelings for him. Something happened that night, something that imprinted him on my soul.
My heart.
Or maybe I was just a foolish girl that thought—hoped—she could tame the bad boy. After all, wasn't it most young girl’s fantasy to be to the one who could?
Maverick sensed me watching him and his hooded gaze slid down my body, as I stood there in nothing but Elliot's oversized Oxford University t-shirt, clutching the small bag as if it was a life raft.
And Maverick was the storm threatening to wreck me.
“Got any pain meds in there?”
Nodding, I retrieved some tablets and handed him a glass of water. Our fingers brushed as he took it from me, sparks of electricity dancing across my skin. Maverick's eyes widened with surprise, focused on where our hands joined, then slowly he lifted his face to mine.
God, I couldn't breathe.
When he looked at me like that I wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor.
I did melt.
I wanted him to touch me, taste me, anything to make the deep ache between my legs stop. The longing.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I blinked and, with a tiny shake of my head, sifted through the kit to find some wipes. “This will probably sting.”
“I've felt worse.”
Rounding the breakfast bar, I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. His face was a patchwork of grazes and cuts, but I started with the worse wounds, the ones trickling blood down his bronzed skin like a stream of fat crimson tears.
“Fuck,” he hissed a breath as the wipe smoothed over his cheekbone.
“Sorry.” I moved slower, barely touching the angry raised cut. “Why, Maverick? Why do you do this to yourself?”
“Don't,” he said. There was no warning in his tone. No bitterness. He almost sounded defeated.
Broken.
And it only made my need to fix him—to help him—stronger.
But then I remembered Caitlin. Her lips on his. Her hands curled around him like she owned him.
My mouth soured as I croaked, “This one probably needs stitches.” The skin across his left eyebrow was wide open, and I wasn't sure a plaster would do the job.
“No doctors, I'll live.”
“Maverick...”
His hand smoothed over my hip and curved around my waist, anchoring me to him. Sliding me between his knees. It was too close and yet, not close enough. My eyes fluttered shut, assaulted with memories of that night. His lips on mine, his hands running over my untouched body.
My hand pressed his shoulder. “Stop.”
Maverick pulled back slightly forcing me to look at him.
“What are you doing, Maverick?”
His darkened gaze made the butterflies intensify and my head swim with lust. “Don't you ever just want to forget?”
All the time.
But the thing about forgetting was that it was only temporary, and when reality came back, it came back like a bucket of ice cold water.
“Lo,” my name fell from his lips. That single word touched something deep inside of me, and I knew that every look, every interaction we'd shared since I arrived in Wicked Bay wasn't some figment of my imagination—it was real. Maverick wanted me.
Craved me as much as I craved him.
But up until now, he’d refused to give into his needs. Something held him back. I suspected it was the same thing that drove him to step into that ring and draw blood. After today, meeting his father, part of me wondered if he was the reason. He certainly seemed to trigger Maverick’s temper.
I forced myself to swallow the breath caught in my throat and continued cleaning his imperfectly perfect face. After the last plaster was applied, my fingers lingered over his eyebrow. I went to move away but Maverick captured my wrist. “Look at me, London.” His voice slid over me like melted chocolate.
“I should—” My gaze landed on his and the words died on my tongue. He was looking at me with such intensity.
“You should what?”
“Go, I should go.” Far, far away from here. From you.
I tried to move, to break free from his hold over me—both physical and emotional—but Maverick tugged me closer, opening his legs wider unti
l I was nestled between them.
“Maverick, stop.”
He arched an eyebrow, challenging me—daring me—only I didn't understand why. He was with Caitlin, wasn’t he? He'd made it clear he wouldn't touch me. Yet he leaned in closer, his mouth ghosting over my shoulder. “You're saying one thing, but your body is saying another.” His fingers slid to the hem of my t-shirt and he twisted his hand into the material dragging me closer and I sucked in a sharp breath when his knuckles brushed my thighs. Over the part of myself I never let anyone see. His lips curved against my skin igniting a full body shiver up my spine and my eyes fluttered shut.
“What about Caitlin?” The quiver in my voice showed how weak he made me. And part of me hated it.
Maverick went rigid, the air around us thick with tension. “She's no one to me.”
I hadn’t seen them together, not since that night at the dance. But Caitlin watched him at school, longing in her eyes. She wanted him. Had already laid claim to him. And they had been together once upon a time.
“And I am?”
There, I'd said it.
“You know you are.” His lips lingered, almost kissing my neck.
“But?”
“But we can't be together.” It was so final. My heart didn't just sink, it withered and died leaving me empty and hollow.
I nodded stiffly and yanked free of his hold, but Maverick was stronger and his arms looped around my waist drawing me back in. And then he was kissing me. Consuming me.
Breathing life back into me.
My hands slid around his shoulders and I clung onto him like he was air, letting his tongue explore my mouth.
Like I could have refused.
Maverick was a force to be reckoned with. I'd seen it in the hallways at school—the way people gravitated to him at the same time as falling in line. If Maverick said jump, everyone asked how high. Except he didn't have to say anything, he only had to nod his head or send someone a single look.
He held the power, even if he didn't want it.