The second he was within range of my lips, he kissed me. I could feel him blindly reaching for a condom as he rubbed his cock against my wet center. Softly panting, I opened my eyes, watching him roll it on and settle against my entrance. We were staring straight into each other’s eyes when he slowly sank inside me.
Hunter’s hands found mine, easily interlocking our fingers and bringing them up by my head. He kept the pace steady, pouring so much love and affection into each thrust that I had to close my eyes against all the feelings.
“Keep them open,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly. I immediately obeyed, squeezing my fingers against our joined hands. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine, and all the while our eyes remained open. I could see everything. Every bead of sweat born of passion, every flicker of heat in his gaze revealing his lust, and every pulse in his neck giving away his love.
“I love you,” he whispered. I swallowed the words, bringing them inside me and letting them give me life.
“I love you,” I repeated. And that was it. There was no more build up or chasing, we both fell. Our moans were low and soft, contradicting the intensity of our feelings.
Afterward, he laid his head in the crook of my neck as I brushed the hair back from his face.
“That was…” He trailed off.
“Yeah.”
“How are we ever supposed to top that?” He sounded genuinely concerned.
I laughed before bringing my lips to his ear and whispering, “Well, luckily, we have the rest of our lives to try.”
Pulling away, he gave me a soft smile and lightly touched his lips to mine. “I’m gonna go clean up.” I watched him walk to the en suite bathroom, waiting until he was out of sight before I cleaned myself off with some tissues and put my clothes back on. Hunter came back, dressed in flannel pajamas and cuddled up behind me, placing a kiss on the back of my neck that had me sighing in contentment.
It had been the perfect day. And as I drifted to sleep, I smiled, because there were so many more to come.
I woke to the smell of smoke.
At first, I had the ridiculous thought that it was the candles from my birthday cake. But the scent was too strong, and the cake had been devoured hours ago.
My fingers stretched to the comforter beside me, hitting Hunter’s bicep. I frowned as I opened my eyes and read the clock. It was 11:45 p.m. There were still fifteen minutes left of my birthday. Hunter was still snoring when I crept out of bed—he was a very deep sleeper.
As soon as I opened the door I knew something was wrong. The smell overwhelmed me and the heat was suffocating.
“Mom?” I called out. I ran toward the stairs, and the second I hit the bottom, I knew. I couldn’t see it yet. But between the smell, the heat, and the distinctive crackling, I knew.
The house was on fire.
“Hunter!” I shouted as I ran up toward my parents. Between my shouts and the open door, I was hoping he’d wake up. Terror like I’d never known, not even when I lost Bobby, gripped me as I reached the top and saw flames covering the walls and the door to my parents’ room.
“Mom! Dad!” I screamed. I raced forward only to be blown back onto my ass when something exploded, a suffocating heat enveloping the air like poison.
“Mom?” I coughed out the word and stumbled to my feet. “D-d-dad?” That word took even more strength.
Their door was already encased in flames; but the door to their old office, which was connected to theirs via an en suite bathroom, was ajar and still accessible.
I pulled in a useless breath in an effort not to ingest any more of the hot, smoky air, and had just moved forward when I saw a soft and feminine hand lying in the open doorway.
“Mom!” I yelled through the gray. I shielded my eyes from the inferno greedily eating up our walls.
I got no response, and even though I felt the smoke slowly sucking the life from me, my adrenaline pushed me forward. She must have been trying to get out, but had collapsed before she could.
“Mom?!” I called again. It was getting harder and harder to make out her hand, even as I moved closer.
Dropping to the ground, I inched closer. I no longer screamed for her—she couldn’t hear me, and it was only making it harder for me to breathe.
I still had a couple feet to go when a wild, panicked shriek floated up the stairs.
“SHERRY! SHERRY!” A few seconds later footsteps pounded up and Hunter’s terrified eyes came into view. My lungs were on fire, all the talking getting the best of me. The second his gaze landed on me I saw the relief flow into him, even as flames raged around us. It seemed like it took forever for him to wake up and get up here; in reality it all probably happened in less than a minute.
“Hunter,” I huffed, violently coughing. He rushed forward and his eyes went toward my parents’ bedroom door, which had him close to tears by the time he got to me.
“We have to get out of here.”
“No, my mom, she’s right there,” I begged as tears streamed down my face. Hunter followed my pointed finger toward her hand.
He nodded before edging forward. “Stay here,” he barked. While I wanted to disobey, I could feel the lack of oxygen catching up with me.
My eyes fluttered to the ceiling, watching bits of it become increasingly unstable.
“Hurry,” I breathed more than spoke the word. But just as I said it, I watched in horror as a large chunk of flaming plaster fell only inches away from Hunter, landing right between him and my mother. The fire had become so consuming I didn’t know if he’d be able to reach her.
No. No. No.
My coughing became worse as Hunter turned back to me, a desperate and pained look in his eyes. A second later he flew forward, gripping my arm and hauling me up before dragging me toward the stairs.
“No, no, no, no, no!” It took everything for me to get that out, the sound hoarse and pained. But suddenly the burn in my throat didn’t matter. All that mattered was stopping him. A burst of strength jolted through me when I looked back at my mom’s hand, pale white against a backdrop of red and orange.
I managed a hard tug to get his attention. Hunter looked back but tried to keep us moving.
“Sherry, we have to go. Your cough is too bad and I can’t get to her. The house—”
“My mom. My parents,” I choked out. “We have to…” My thoughts trailed off and my vision danced in front of me. “We…” I couldn’t remember what I was saying, what was happening…
“Sherry!” Hunter snapped and my gaze flew to his. He looked absolutely terrified as he bent down and put his arm underneath my knees. The next thing I knew I was in his arms. I struggled to keep my eyes open, looking back for the impossible.
We were at the top of the stairs when I saw the fire reach her hand.
The hand that held mine when I’d walked into kindergarten on my first day of school.
The hand that lay against my forehead to check for a fever.
The hand that held on to my father’s as they cheered for me at my graduation.
The hand that I was holding just hours earlier when I kissed her cheek and said goodnight.
It wasn’t supposed to be goodbye.
My eyes fluttered closed as he moved quickly through the house. I winced when a crack echoed through whatever room we were passing through and another wave of heat rolled toward us.
“Mom?” I whispered into his chest. Hunter didn’t speak as he kept running.
“Dad?” I said just as quietly. A sob this time.
One final name passed through my lips before I blacked out.
“Bobby…”
I blinked.
I was on my back. My eyes and throat burning as I focused on the black sky above me, a thick layer of gray smoke obstructing most of it.
“Sherry.” A shadow moved over me, his hands on my shoulders.
“Hunter?” I rasped, as my gaze struggled to connect with his.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing
hair from my face. His voice was low and worried. I heard sirens in the background as everything came back to me.
We ran. No, that wasn’t right. He ran. I was carried, my body too weak to save myself. And—
My birthday. Fire. My parents. Bobby…
“Mom? Dad?” My voice was a pitiful murmur in comparison to the raging crackles of the fire. I struggled to sit up.
“Hey, hey. Don’t try to move.” Collapsing back on the ground, I repeated their names, over and over, as if I could will them out and into safety. I was convinced I’d completely lose my voice by the time I was done.
“Where’re my mom and dad, Hunter?”
“I haven’t seen them.”
“W-what?” I stammered.
“Sherry…”
I scrambled for some semblance of hope. A tether. Anything to hold on to.
He shook his head, begging me with his eyes to figure it out so he didn’t have to say it. His soot-covered hand reached for my cheek. I batted it away and scooted backward, looking at him with tears in my eyes. “T-tell me. Say-y it,” I said, my voice breaking several times in just four words.
“Shh.” Hunter sounded pained as he kept running his hands over me. “Shh… it’ll be okay.”
We both knew it wasn’t true. Nothing was okay. Nothing would be okay.
I looked behind him and watched my home being eaten by fire. The flames monstrously large now, to the point where it was more fire than house.
If only I woke up sooner…
If only I had been sleeping upstairs…
“Why?” I turned toward him. “Why?”
Hunter shook his head, but there was something he wasn’t saying. He didn’t answer me. He just held me, giving up with his words.
“I can’t. Hunter, I can’t…” I gasped, clutching my chest. Death by heartbreak felt like a very real thing at that moment. “They could have gotten out. Maybe they’re outside… waiting for someone to find them…”
Hope was cruel. Hope was paralyzing. Hope killed.
Hope made people irrational and foolish.
And yet… I hoped.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, my eyes closing against the flames. The crackles and sizzles faded to the background as one last sentence met my ears before I was pulled under again.
“I won’t. I promise.”
18 years old
I sat in Sherry’s hospital room, my eyes on our intertwined hands, as I waited for her to wake up. Anxiety plagued me. I was more than ready to see those gorgeous green eyes of hers, but I also didn’t want to be the one to tell her…
Her parents hadn’t made it.
And my father… my father was the one responsible for it all. I couldn’t prove it, and I didn’t know why I felt that way, but I just had a feeling.
This was all my fault and somehow I was the one without any injuries, just a slight soreness in my throat.
A light knock on the door drew my attention away from her. One of the officers from last night was standing there. He nodded his head toward the hallway and after giving Sherry’s hand a quick kiss, I followed.
He was waiting at the end of the hallway, his eyes trained outside. The echo of my shoes caused his head to turn my way. “Hello Hunter. I’m Officer Wagner.” He paused expectantly, but it didn’t take me long to place the name. I’d only dealt with the police one time. When I tried to report my abuse six years ago. “Do you remember me?”
“Yeah.” I crossed my arms. “Do you have any information on what happened?”
“Nothing has turned up. We… we looked into information on your father but so far, nothing. It’s still pretty early in the investigation.”
I frowned. “What aren’t you saying?”
“Arson cases are difficult to prove.”
“This isn’t fucking arson,” I bit out, while pointing toward Sherry’s room. “This is murder. Her mother and father are dead because of that scumbag. The same scumbag you didn’t believe me about.”
He looked down in shame. “I know. I’m sorry. I—”
“I don’t want your apologies. I want you to arrest that son of a bitch.”
“We have no evidence, Hunter.”
I turned away from him, my gaze pointed out the window, but I wasn’t actually seeing anything. “How’d it start?” I bit out.
“They’re still investigating. But it looks like something was thrown through a window upstairs. The lone one on the south side of the house.”
Sherry’s old bedroom that was being renovated.
“They were reworking the wiring and had some other combustible materials in there that made the room a virtual death trap should anything catch fire.”
Shaking my head, I turned back around, my eyes immediately going to Sherry. “I… I don’t understand. How…” Officer Wagner walked over to squeeze my shoulder.
“I’ll let you get some rest, and I’ll update you with any new information. But we will keep looking into him, I promise you that.”
I felt numb as I nodded and watched him walk from the room. The chair legs scraped against the floor as I took my place next to an unconscious Sherry once more. There were tears in my eyes when I picked up her hand and brought it to my mouth.
“You gave me a family when mine didn’t want me. You gave me love when I was sure I didn’t deserve it. And you gave me hope that the world could be better than the bad stuff. But it can’t, can it? If there was any justice in the world, my parents would be dead and yours would still be here, laughing and dancing around the kitchen, telling us to stay out however late we wanted.” A few of my tears fell, wetting her pale skin.
“They felt like my parents, did I ever tell you that?” My eyes roamed over her face, seeing pieces of her mother and father in her that would probably haunt her. “So many times I wanted to call them Mom and Dad, which is probably weird, but that’s what they felt like. They felt like mine and they felt like home, just like you do.”
I raised my hand to brush some of her hair behind her ear, my thumb grazing her cheek in the process.
“You guys gave me so much, and I l-love you more than you could ever k-know.” My speech was getting choppy as more tears fell and sobs caught in my throat. “I’m sorry I brought you into this. I’m sorry I ran through your backyard that day.” I could still see her at ten years old like it was yesterday. Pink dress, pigtail braids, and a wide smile. She had so much promise, was filled with so much happiness. If only I’d never come back.
“I’m sorry that you gave me the best of you, and all I could give you was the worst of me. I’m… I’m s-so sorry, Sherry.”
Still holding her hand, I folded my arms on the bed and buried my head in my elbow.
I cried.
I cried until I couldn’t breathe and my head hurt.
I cried for Sherry.
I cried for her parents.
I even cried for Bobby, who I never met, but who felt the unfairness of this world far too soon.
And I cried for me.
Ours is a love people write stories about…
It was true. But it wasn’t the story I wanted. I wanted to give her the fairy tale, the happily ever after where all her dreams came true.
Instead, I gave her a nightmare.
18 years old
RUNNING.
I felt like I spent my life running.
But this time I wasn’t running away from my house, I was running toward it.
I could still hear Sherry’s cries from last night, making my legs pump faster.
We’d been so close to getting out. So close to being free.
I was only one house away until…
Until what?
The truth was, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Year after year, day after day, hit after hit, I’d always laid low. I never fought back.
That wasn’t an option any more. It wasn’t just me he was hurting anymore. We could leave, but who else would suffer? Who else would he destroy?
My eyes dr
ifted to where Sherry’s house had been, now nothing more than ashes.
I paused. Just for a moment. Because… was I really going to do this? Could I really do it?
My gaze moved to our living room window, where my father was in plain view.
Watching television.
Drinking.
Acting completely normal.
There was no more pausing. No other moments of hesitation or worry. I stalked forward, threw open the front door, and charged toward him. I only saw his eyes for a split second before I slammed my fist into his face, relishing in delight as his neck snapped back and blood dripped from his mouth. He raised his head with an odd smile on his face, using the back of his hand to wipe away the blood.
Then he laughed.
He fucking laughed.
Like he didn’t ruin countless lives, like he didn’t leave my girl shattered and broken.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled before gripping him by the neck of his T-shirt and hauling him up. The stench of alcohol rolled off him and hit me in the face like a slap.
I felt my knuckles split open as I punched him in the mouth before ramming my knee in his stomach. He doubled over in pain, his hand flying to his abdomen. I stood back and waited for him to stand tall, to move forward and hit me, to attack. He slowly righted himself, but his shoulders remained hunched and his feet were firmly planted to the spot.
“What?” I screamed with my arms stretched wide. “After everything you’re not even gonna fight back?”
His still-in-place smirk propelled me forward and drove my fist into his side. My father’s body slumped to the ground, even as he continued grinning.
I knelt above him and punched him in the face again.
And again.
And again.
It wasn’t until the fifth or sixth punch that I realized I was trying to punch that smile off his face.
“WHY?” I roared. Sherry had asked countless times and I always told her the same thing: he was evil. But now, I had to know, there had to be something more.
Punch.
Punch.
Punch.
My breaths were coming fast and my fists ached as I pulled away from him.
Unveiling Ghosts (Unveiling Series, Book 3) Page 20