Skeleton King (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 9)

by Charity B.

  As I step off his porch, I let the tears fall. I had a family that I know in the deepest part of my heart loved me. Even though Fink stole that from me, he also brought me to the place where I met John.

  What if everything happens the way it’s supposed to? Without experiencing despair and torment, it might have been impossible for me to appreciate the reprieve from it all. Maybe the pain I suffered was currency to pay for the bliss my life has become?

  Vince sits on the front porch when I get home. Home. The word was never more comforting than it is right now. When home was a place I was forced to be, it had a sense of suffocation, but living with John, it now represents freedom. Freedom to just be me.

  I pet his back before walking inside. “Come on, Vince. Nothing isn’t here, so you’ll have nobody to torture.”

  He follows me to the parlor, curling up on my lap when I sit on the couch. I place my music box on the side table as I open the pink book. It appears to be a documentation of my life over the years. I remember Fink taking pictures, but I never really questioned why or what he did with them. Ten years of my life, in between a few pages. Aside from a ton of photos, there’s a baggie with a lock of red hair and a few tiny teeth. Vince purrs next to me, rubbing his head against my thigh.

  When the phone rings, I jump at the intrusive sound, causing Vince to scurry away. I let it ring a few times while I decide if I should answer, eventually giving in to my curiosity. Once I cross the kitchen, I lift the tan phone from the receiver.

  “H-hello?”

  “Sarah? This is Mayor Greer.”

  He speaks in a rushed voice and I hope whatever he needs isn’t urgent. “Yes. It’s me. John isn’t here, though.” Vince curls his body around my ankle as I lean against the counter.

  The Mayor sighs into the phone. “I know, sweetheart.” He’s always been so nice to me, and I usually like that he calls me that. Today though, it makes me uneasy for some reason, maybe his unusual tone of voice. “John cares a lot for you, so I assume he would want me to let you know.” My heart pounds harder and faster with each beat. I want to scream at him to tell me what’s happening, yet I’m also absolutely terrified to hear what he has to say. “Harley, the gatekeeper, found John unconscious in his car. It looks like he’s been shot.”

  I can barely keep my grip on the phone as my other hand clutches the edge of the counter to hold me upright. No, no, no, this isn’t happening. The Mayor must have gotten his wires crossed somewhere.

  “Where is he?” The words come out, yet they’re barely audible. My brain is shorting out like a lightbulb.

  “He’s with Fink. He and Ingvar are prepping him for surgery now.”

  Surgery.

  He’s alive. Like I’ve been given a jump-start, energy jolts through my veins. “I’m coming over there.”

  “No, Sarah. You don’t need to—”

  I’m not even sure if I got the phone hung up all the way when I run out the front door, slamming it behind me. It takes me less than three minutes, and I’m gasping for breath by the time I make it to Fink’s.

  Mayor Greer stands next to his and John’s cars, smoking a cigarette with Nothing sitting at his feet. The sweet puppy runs to me as the Mayor meets me at the edge of the driveway. “You shouldn’t have come, Sarah.”

  I clasp my hands together, debating if falling to my knees would be too much. “Please, just let me see him for a second. I’ll be quick. I’m begging you.”

  He grumbles something under his breath before tossing his cigarette to the ground. “You have two fucking minutes.”

  He’s clearly irritated that I’m here, so I run to the front door, yelling over my shoulder, “Thank you, Mayor.”

  Fink can’t hurt me anymore, so I don’t waste any time knocking. The foyer is empty as I sprint up the stairs, taking them two at a time. As soon as I cross the threshold of Fink’s lab, I see John covered in blood, fastened to a table next to Ogier.

  Tears burn my eyes as I cover my mouth. He isn’t moving. “Oh, God.”

  “Sarah! What the hell are you doing here?”

  Ignoring Fink’s question, I hurry to stand next to John. I’m able to suppress most of my sobs, but a few of them escape when I hold his hand and feel how cold it is.

  “I love you,” I whisper. I try to stop crying, but that only makes me cry harder. “Please be okay. I need you.”

  His eyes flutter when Fink barks. “You need to get out. I’m about to operate.”

  “Please help him. I’ll forgive you for everything if you just save him.”

  Even though he’s upset with John, he has Madame Emerald now. Surely he won’t let him die if he can save him.

  He rolls his eyes. “I have no use for your forgiveness. Regardless, I do plan to do the best I can. Now, for the last time, get out.” Ingvar pulls me away from John as I cry over his shoulder loud enough that hopefully he can hear me.

  “I promised you I wouldn’t ever leave you, so you aren’t allowed to leave me either!”

  With tears blurring my vision, I’m dragged down the stairs where Madame Emerald squeals, “Oh hello again, Sarah darling!” just as Ingvar shoves me toward the entryway.

  “Sarah go away,” is the last thing I hear before the door is slammed in my face.

  15

  Meant To Be

  John Skelver

  December 15th ~ Morning

  Nothing sniffs the snow covering the dead girl’s empty grave as I lay the note on top of the tombstone. Her name was Kate. She hadn’t been embalmed when she was buried, allowing me to taxidermize her. She’d been a beautiful brunette with a tribal band tattoo around her ankle. It seems so long ago now, my time with the dead. Sarah has completely consumed my entire life, making it more than I could had ever come close to imagining.

  Every time I do this, it feels like a kink gets loosened. For so long I’d forced myself to reject any emotion that made me uncomfortable. While I still struggle, I do my best to really feel. Whether it’s guilt, embarrassment, or uselessness, I push myself through the discomfort to try to understand the emotion and do what I need to do to make amends.

  Nothing sticks his tail straight up, barking in a frenzy when the sound of a gun cocking behind me causes my body to freeze mid-movement.

  “You’re the one that took my sister, aren’t you?”

  I hold my hands up, cautiously turning around to find a boy that couldn’t be much older than thirteen or fourteen pointing a shaky handgun at my chest. His eyes narrow, fear flashing across his features the moment he sees my face paint. It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. It’s odd that, as I stare down the barrel of the gun, I wonder how worried his parents are about him.

  With careful movements, I take a small step, shushing Nothing who’s growling next to me. “I am.”

  “I heard my parents talking about all the notes you’ve been leaving. They thought you’d come here eventually. What did you need her body for?” If I can get the gun out of his hand, maybe I can talk him down and give him some sort of closure, but I can’t think clearly with the barrel pointed at my chest. The snow crunches as I try to close in on him. “Don’t get any closer to me, or I’ll shoot you in your face.”

  “I didn’t intend to hurt your family.” I lean forward, slowly attempting to move my foot. “I’m trying to—”

  Bang!

  The impact of being hit doesn’t hurt immediately. My mouth falls open as I watch the blood slowly seeping across my white T-shirt. Holding my side, I push down to add pressure while the boy watches me in shock. As if suddenly realizing what he’s done, he drops the gun and runs from the cemetery.

  “Fuck,” I murmur.

  Warm liquid wets my fingers, and I drop to my knees, burning heat flaming up my side. Shit. How am I going to get back to town? I’m maybe half an hour away. I don’t know if I can drive that far. “Goddamn it!” I groan as Nothing whines next to me. “It’s okay, boy. Let’s just get back to the car.”

  Considering I barely make it the
short walk to my Buick, I have no idea how I’m going to make it home. Getting into the car doesn’t ease my discomfort, but it’s a relief to not have to keep walking.

  At first, I think I might make it, but then the pain becomes too much and my vision distorts with black spots. For the first time, I’m terrified that I’m dying. My life feels like it just started with Sarah. Simply thinking of her has me pushing harder on the gas pedal. I refuse to die without seeing her one last time.

  Nothing continues barking as if he’s trying to keep me awake. It works for most of the drive until the car rumbles from the car drifting over sleeper lines. Relief almost makes me pass out again when the south gate comes into view.

  Not only is it a miracle that I didn’t get pulled over, I can’t believe I actually made it to the gate. As I reach out to enter the code, darkness folds over me, and I’m consumed with the sensation of falling.

  The last thing I feel is Nothing’s tongue licking my arm as he whimpers next to me.

  “I love you.” It’s her. Her tearful voice softly pleads, “Please be okay. I need you.” While I can’t open my eyes or speak, her name is on repeat in my mind. Sarah. Sarah. Sarah.

  I feel my favorite sensation. Her heat. I can feel her hand squeezing mine as Fink reprimands her. I wish I could make my voice work so I could tell her to get away from him. If I could just open my eyes.

  Though I can’t follow everything they’re saying, I hear her begging Fink to save me, forcing my memory to replay in flashing images.

  The graveyard.

  The letter.

  The little boy.

  The gun.

  The black is closing in again. Her heat disappears. Why can’t I open my eyes? I just want to see her…one more time. As my body falls back into the abyss, she screams into the darkness.

  “I promised you I wouldn’t ever leave you, so you aren’t allowed to leave me either!”

  December 25th ~ Morning

  Jesus. If I have to spend one more second in this fucking lab, my brain is going to explode. It’s been a week and a half of mostly bedrest. Since my surgery, Sarah’s only been allowed to visit three times. I miss her terribly, and over the last few days, I’ve been missing her in more ways than one.

  I’ve felt considerably better, and my libido has returned back to its original state. I won’t be able to actually fuck her for another week or so, but there’s plenty more we can do until then. And not to mention, I miss the shit out of Nothing. Sarah brought him each time she visited, which ended up only making me miss him more.

  Fink continues to rattle off all the self-care requirements for healing at home, even though he’s already been over this twice before.

  “Yeah, I get it. Can I please go now?”

  He tilts his head in a chiding way as Ingvar hands me a bottle of pills. “You don’t know how lucky you are, my boy. That bullet went clean through and was less than half an inch from your large intestine. The unlikeliness of that is astounding. And we still need to keep an eye out for blood clots. Swing by next week so I can look you over. In the meantime, have Sarah page me if you have any nausea or vomiting, bloody stool, d—”

  “Really, Fink, I know what I’m supposed to do. I’m just ready to go.”

  He taps his cane against the floor and nods. “Fair enough.” Pointing to the bottle in my hand, he adds, “Take those twice a day with food. Believe me, they’re better than anything you could find at the apothecary.” He gestures to the door. “Mayor Greer will be here soon to take you home.”

  I get off the bed, stifling a yell when a sharp pain lights up my right side. Fink said I’d be sore for a bit, but I’m not about to risk him keeping me here for a minute longer.

  “Thanks, Fink…for saving my life.”

  He simply nods with a grunt.

  I don’t necessarily think he’s forgiven me for what happened with Sarah and Sandy or that I unintentionally killed Ogier, however I do know how much he respects the laws of this town. He told me himself that my trial was fair.

  Considering we have to live peacefully in town together, I’m also trying to tolerate him and just move on, but I still don’t want Sarah around him. I will say, since he’s been with Madame Emerald, he’s been slightly more…sane.

  Speaking of the kind woman, she greets me at the bottom of the stairs with a tin full of what I’m assuming are her cookies. She apparently loves to bake as much as tell fortunes. I think I might have gained five pounds in the ten days I’ve been here.

  “Here you go, darling. Take these with you to keep your energy up. This town needs their Skeleton King.”

  I smile. “Thank you—”

  The doorbell cuts me off, and she hurries to answer it, revealing Mayor Greer. Greeting Madame Emerald, he says “Good morning,” before he sets his sights on me, nearly barreling over her without waiting for an invitation. “John! It’s so wonderful to see you walking amongst the living! Are you ready to go?”

  “You have no idea.”

  I pass him and he turns on his heel to follow me outside. Once we’re in the car and backing out of Fink’s driveway, Mayor Greer hands me a brown paper bag. “Here, I got what you asked for.” My stomach switches places with my heart as I look inside. “I’m glad you’re on the upswing for more than one reason. Your proposition has actually been received better than I foresaw.”

  My head snaps up to grin at him. “Seriously?”

  “Well yes, however, the council has some questions they like to ask before they proceed, so I scheduled a meeting tonight.”

  I gape at him. I was literally just shot. “But it’s Christmas.”

  He looks at me like I grew another face. “So?”

  “I have plans with Sarah.”

  “It won’t take that long. Just a few clarifications. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Since I obviously don’t have a choice, there’s no point in arguing. “Fine.”

  He hasn’t even pulled into my driveway yet when Sarah and Nothing run across the snow-covered yard to greet me. Tucking the paper bag into my jacket, I step out of the car where Sarah wraps me in a hug so tight, I flinch from the stab of pain.

  She immediately lets me go. “Sorry.”

  I bend down to pet Nothing before wrapping my arm around her waist, waving to Mayor Greer as we walk inside.

  The moment the door opens, I laugh at the transformation of my living room. She’s been busy. The tree is completely decked out. Stockings hang from the fireplace and garland is wrapped around the spiral bannister. Christmas lights are strung up from the ceiling while the Santa figurine and snow globe collections have only grown.

  I’m a little nervous to look at the bill for the credit card I got her, but the way she holds her hands up and spins in a circle, clearly proud of the work she’s done, makes any debt she may have accumulated completely worth it. “Merry Christmas!”

  Pulling her against me, I revel in her warmth, which I’ve missed terribly, kissing her hard. “Merry Christmas, Sarah.”

  Backing away from me, she takes my hand to lead me into the parlor. “I got you a Christmas present…but I got bored and asked Eunice to help me set it up. I’ve been playing it for a few days. You died of dysentery, and a thief stole all my oxen, so I’m stuck.”

  My laugh bubbles up my throat. I have no idea what that means. “What?”

  As soon as we cross the threshold of the parlor, I see it. She got me a computer. Excitement pushes up my smile. I’ve talked about wanting one, so knowing that she really listened to me and made the effort to get it pushes a comforting buzz through my entire body.

  “No way.” I rush over to it, hurrying to turn on the modem.

  “Mayor Greer helped me get it. He even put internet on it!” Her hands clasp together before leaning over to pull out a floppy disk. “And this is the best part. It’s a game. You have to make it to Oregon with everyone in the wagon. It’s really hard.”

  She shows me how to play before leaving me to navigate the inter
net. The moment she walks out, I reach into my jacket to take out the paper bag. Once I empty it, I throw the bag away and shove its contents into the pocket of my coat before sitting back at the computer. The shrill sound of the dial-up has me tapping my fingers on the desk in anticipation. I’ve heard about chat rooms being a hotbed for any information ever imagined, so I start there.

  I’m still fiddling with my fabulous gift until the smell of something sweet floats into my nostrils.

  “Pie is ready!” Sarah calls from the kitchen.

  For some reason, I’m overcome with the urge to laugh. Never in a million years would I have thought this could be my life.

  December 25th ~ Day

  Sarah has the whole day planned. Eggnog and pie with a corny Christmas movie about a little boy whose family somehow forgot him when they went on vacation, leaving him to fend for himself against a couple of horribly idiotic robbers. Sarah finds it amusing, if her sweet giggling is any indication.

  Her head is in my lap as the credits roll, and with the proximity of her mouth next to my cock, my hard-on begins to grow. She must feel it against her cheek because she lifts up to look at me with a sexy grin. Her fingers slowly lower my sweats. When my erection pops free, she licks it from base to tip.

  I watch her, holding her hair in a ponytail to allow me to fully see her face. While of course this feels epic, for some reason, it’s my heart that’s currently being affected most. She’s so fucking beautiful and kind, smart and forgiving. I truly don’t deserve her, and I won’t let a day pass without praying she never figures that out.

  God, I wish I could feel more than her mouth. I love watching the way her body moves while pleasuring me. It’s so fucking difficult to not thrust between her lips, but I can’t risk delaying my healing time. Regardless, with her hot tongue against my dick, it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for every cell in my body to spark to life as my come spurts down her throat.