by Callie Hart
She rolls her eyes. “Do you have any idea how much studying I have to do before they’ll even think about letting me near a shuttle, Alex? There’s a reason why astronauts are ancient by the time they get to go up.”
“Okaaay. So...your Dad told you he’s dating Maeve, and you’re excited about getting a new mom?”
She freezes, eyes growing wide. “What?”
“Never mind. Joking. I’m joking. What are you so excited about, Argento? The suspense is killing me.”
“Go back to what you said about my dad and Maeve.”
“Or you could just pretend I didn’t breathe a word about that and spill your guts instead.” Having circled her fully twice, I come to a stop in front of her and plant my hands on her hips, snatching her up off the ground. She squeals, wrapping her legs around my waist, her tits crushing up against my chest, and my dick begins to throb hopefully.
God, you are never satisfied, I tell it. Unfortunately, the universe might have seen fit to give my cock a mind of its own, but it neglected to give it ears. It doesn’t listen.
Silver, so breathtakingly beautiful in the summer dress she’s wearing—the material’s a rich blue tone that really brings out her eyes—laces are arms around my neck, planting a delicate kiss on my forehead, right between my eyebrows. “I did something for you in the bedroom. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I never mind when you do things for me in the bedroom.”
“You’re so bad,” she laughs. “Come on. Put me down. I wanna show you.”
“You sure you wanna show me? ’Cause you’re looking a little panicked right now.”
“I’m not panicked! I’m just…” She shrugs, her cheeks coloring. She’s definitely panicking. “I’m just hoping I haven’t taken over something that you wanted to do is all.” It’s too damn easy to screw with her sometimes. She’s goddamn adorable when she’s embarrassed.
“Fuck,” I rumble, butting her nose with mine. “You bought yourself a strap-on, didn’t you? Kinky. I’m a firm believer that the anus is an out hole, but I’ll try anything once if it’ll make you happy.”
She looks scandalized. “I do not want to dominate you with a strap-on. Wherever you got that idea from, you can send it right back because it’s never gonna happen. Ju—for fuck’s sake, come with me. We’ll be here all night otherwise.” She grabs me by the hand, and that’s it, she’s physically dragging me through to the bedroom.
There are physics textbooks and notebooks all over the bed—she’s been studying hard while I was gone—but there are also plastic wrappers and cardboard packaging all over the floor, too. “Looks like you had a party in here without me. What have you been up to, Arge—” I stop talking, because when I back at her, I see what she’s been up to. Opposite our bed, dozens of picture frames have been mounted on the wall in a collage style, slotted together like a jigsaw puzzle. From plain black wood, to raw pine, to fancy old fashioned gilded gold, every single picture frame is different. Like, not a single one of them matches any of the others. Of course, inside the frames are Giacomo’s drawings of my mom. But not only that. There are photos of Ben in the frames, too. Pictures I’ve never even seen before. Shots of him playing baseball and posing with his friends. And, oh god…there…there are pictures of me and him together, too. Selfies I took for him on his phone, for him to keep, so that he knew I was always going to be there for him.
I sit down heavily on the bed, right on top of one of Silver’s textbooks.
She looks at me worriedly, covering her mouth with her hands again. “I’m sorry. I know…it’s a lot, isn’t it? It’s like…I just went and ahead and gathered up everything that made you hurt and I plastered it all over our bedroom wall. God, I’m so stupid. I can…fuck, I can take it down. I’m sorry.” She lifts a picture of Ben from the wall, looking for somewhere to put it so she can take down the others, too.
“Silver, stop,” I say softly.
“God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have no idea what I was thinking.”
“I love it, Silver.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I know I don’t. Please, just…Silver, wait, wait, wait. Don’t take that down. Listen to me. I love it.”
She sniffs, daring to glance over at me. Her eyes look glassy, like she’s on the verge of tears. Her pain is enough to have me back on my feet and hurrying across the bedroom to her. “Seriously, please do not cry, Argento. I’m not upset. It’s fucking beautiful, what you’ve done for me. I adore it. I love it. I wanna keep it. It was just a lot to take in all at once is all. I just needed a beat to process it.” I cup Silver’s hand with my face, and she leans into my palm, closing her eyes. Sniffing, she says, “You don’t talk about him. I know how much it must still hurt.”
Just to prove how right she is, my chest squeezes sharply, grief tightening around my heart like a fist. Normally I’d avoid this conversation, moving onto a lighter topic, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Silver notices when I do that and she takes note. “Some days, it feels like I should shut myself away from the world and never show my face again. The guilt…the guilt’s crushing. I know, I know. Before you say it, I know his death wasn’t my fault. Not really. It was an accident. But he should have been in Hawaii, Silver. He should have been playing soccer on a beach, and instead Jackie was bringing him back to see me. I’m gonna have to live with that knowledge somehow. Some days, I can’t live with it. It feels like I’ll die from the weight of that knowledge, pressing down on me.”
I take a shaky breath, pausing while I pull my shit together. “Other days are easier, though. The sadness lets up for a minute, or an hour, and I get to remember the good stuff. I get to laugh at the goofy, stupid shit we’d do together. And I think those minutes and those hours will become more frequent, the more time passes. It’s fucked up, y’know. A part of me doesn’t want to stop being sad. It feels like, if I stop being sad all of the time, I’m betraying him. Forgetting him.”
“You’re never gonna forget him. He’s a part of you, just like you were a part of him. He’s going to be with you for the rest of the life, no matter where you go or what you. You’ll live your life for him, and experience as many things as you can. For him.” The way she looks up at me makes everything come into focus. She’s a lens. I look into her eyes, and everything that has been blurry and confusing for the better part of a lifetime suddenly just…makes sense. She is cool water, after years of thirst. A soothing balm, after far too much hurt.
“And soon, we’re going to have a family of our own…” she says, trailing off.
I carefully tuck a rogue strand of her hair behind her ear, aching to kiss her. I hold back, though. “Hmm. A family. You’re saying you actually want me to knock you up one of these days?”
Smiling, trying not to, suddenly shy, Silver nods. “Yes,” she says quietly. “One of these days. When we’re done with college, and we’ve learned the lessons we need to learn, I am going to want that more than anything, Alessandro Moretti. One day, we’ll have a son of our own. And you are going to be an amazing father, you know that?”
Fear prickles at the back of my neck, a thousand worries and concerns trying to make themselves heard all at once. I shut them down with one quiet thought, though: Silver believes I’ll be a good father, and so I will. For her, I’ll be anything she believes I can be.
“A son?” I muse.
Still a little shy, Silver dips her head, but she manages to look up at me when she tells me in a firm, unwavering voice, “Yes. And when we meet him for the very first time, we will call him Ben.”
ALSO BY CALLIE HART
WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT ZETH, SLOANE ROMERA AND DETECTIVE LOWELL? The Blood & Roses Series is out now and available to read for FREE on KINDLE UNLIMITED!
FREE TO READ ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!
DARK, SEXY, AND TWISTED! A BAD BOY WHO WILL CLAIM BOTH YOUR HEART AND YOUR SOUL.
Read the entire Blood & Roses Series
FREE on Kindle Unlimite
d!
WANT TO DISAPPEAR INTO THE DARK, SEDUCTIVE WORLD OF AN EX-PRIEST TURNED HITMAN?
Read the Dirty Nasty Freaks Series
FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
LOVE A DARK AND DANGEROUS MC STORY? NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO SLOANE’S SISTER?
Read the Dead Man’s Ink Boxset
FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
WANT AN EMOTIONAL, DARK, TWISTED STANDALONE?
Read Calico!
FREE on Kindle Unlimited
WANT A PLOT THAT WILL TAKE
YOUR BREATH AWAY?
Read Between Here and the Horizon
FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
WANT A NYC TALE OF HEARTBREAK, NEW LOVE, AND A HEALTHY DASH OF VIOLENCE?
Read Rooke
FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM!
The best way to keep up to date with all of my upcoming releases and some other VERY exciting secret projects I’m currently working on is to follow me on Instagram! Instagram is fast becoming my favorite way to communicate with the outside world, and I’d love to hear from you over there. I do answer my direct messages (though it might take me some time) plus I frequently post pics of my mini Dachshund, Cooper, so it’s basically a win/win.
You can find me right here!
Alternatively, you can find me via me handle @calliehartauthor within the app.
I look forward to hanging out with you!
DEVIANT DIVAS
If you’d like to discuss my books (or any books, for that matter!), share pictures and quotes of your favorite characters, play games, and enter giveaways, then I would love to have you over in my private group on Facebook!
We’re called the Deviant Divas, and we would love to have you come join in the fun!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today Bestselling Author, Callie Hart, was born in England, but has lived all over the world. As such, she has a weird accent that generally confuses people. She currently resides in Los Angeles, California, where she can usually be found hiking, practicing yoga, kicking ass at Cards Against Humanity, or watching re-runs of Game of Thrones.
To sign up for her newsletter, click here.
KEEP ON READING TO MEET ZETH FOR THE FIRST TIME!
In case you missed the beginning of Zeth and Sloane’s story, here’s your chance to read it for free now!
SLOANE
WHEN I SAY I’M A GHOST, I’M NOT BEING LITERAL. I’m very much alive. Or at least some days I hurt just enough to know I’m still clinging onto a heartbeat. No, when I say I’m a ghost, I’m referring to the fact that people rarely see me. I’m the girl in the background. The average height, average weight, average hair color, non-event that eyes skip over instead of lingering on. I slip silently through this yawning city I live in without smiling. Without having to greet anyone for days at a time. It’s been that way for the last six months. It’s rare that I have to speak to strangers, and when I do it’s perfunctory; people know instinctively that I’m not primed for small talk. Today is no exception.
“Here’s your room key, Ms. Fredrich.” The receptionist in downtown Seattle’s Marriot hotel slides the plastic key card across the marble countertop. Once she’s withdrawn her hand a safe distance, I reach out and palm it.
“Thank you.”
Eyes down, she’s stapling the paperwork created by my payment. “So…business or pleasure?” The warmth in her eyes dies when she finally looks up at me and registers the blank look I’m wearing. The smile slides from her face like butter from a hot knife.
“Business,” I tell her, because nothing has ever been truer.
“Okay, well…I hope you enjoy your stay.” She looks away as soon as she’s done with the appropriate front desk script. She doesn’t ask why I’ve turned up at her hotel with no bags, or why I’m only booking in for one night. Or why I’ve left a spare key card at the front desk for a Mr. Hanson. She doesn’t ask any of that; she’s not supposed to. Eli’s given me a rundown of how this thing will play out, and so far it’s almost to the letter. I lift my purse from the desk and head to the elevator, straightening my coat.
Twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen….
I watch the numbers light up one by one. Each disc, the size of a dollar coin, lights up and darkens in turn, and the elevator descends while I wait, patient and unblinking. There are other people waiting for the car to arrive. If this were an office building or a shopping center, I’d take the stairs; closed spaces and I aren’t exactly the best of friends, but since this hotel is forty-seven floors high and I’ve booked a room on the forty-second floor, I’ll just have to tolerate the inconvenience of their presence.
The doors slide back and I walk in first. The other hotel residents—four businessmen—are staying somewhere mid-level, and I don’t want them brushing past me as they exit. It’s easy to label them as mid-level guys. They’re wearing mid-level-guy suits, and all four of them have mid-level-guy hair-cuts. Their accommodation is being paid for by a cost center funded by an accounting department, and accounting departments don’t spring for penthouses. They spring for double rooms with en-suites that have access to the gym and not much else. No mini bar for you, Mr. Corporate.
The lift doors roll closed and I retreat within myself, pressing my back against the rear wall of the elevator car. I close my eyes, exhale down my nose. This will all be over soon, but my heart still dances in my chest all the same. The fear of being trapped, of what I am about to do, is like a coiled snake, ready and waiting to wreak havoc on my insides.
“Hey. Hey, are you okay? You’re looking a little freaked out.”
One of them talks to me. He thinks my panic is tied to the elevator ride, which it is, but only partially. He has brown eyes, a soft, warm color that reminds me of melted chocolate. He has dimples, too, probably twenty-three or so, around my age. He looks nice. The kind of nice I might have dated once upon a time, before…before any of that became impossible.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I tell him.
“Good.” The guy with chocolate eyes smiles at me. “Deep breathing sometimes helps my sister. She’s not fond of elevators either.”
He’s so sweet. Way sweeter than I deserve, considering my purpose here today. I reward him with a watery smile—he grins back—and then the doors open, and the four of them leave. I jam my hands into my pockets to stop them from shaking. I’m alone for eighteen floors, which is better than being trapped with four strangers but still not great, and then, finally, it’s my turn to alight. This hotel is much like any other I’ve stayed in. The only difference about it, the thing that will define it from all others in my memory for as long as I live, is that I’m here for a very specific reason: to have sex with a total stranger. And I’m doing it to find my baby sister.
SLOANE
BY THE TIME I’m inside and my coat is hung neatly on the hook behind the door, I’m pretty much ready. I’m wearing what I’ve been told to wear—black lace. Eli, the private investigator I hired to help me find my sister, wasn’t any more specific than that. He’s the one who set this whole thing up.
“Sometimes money just isn’t enough to buy what you’re looking for, sweetheart. Sometimes it takes a little more… persuasion to buy information like this. I tell you what…I’ll share what I know in return for a little favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“You spread your legs for a paying customer and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” The disgusting pig has the audacity to smile. “Oh come now, Ms. Romera. Don’t look at me like that. You want to find your sister, don’t you?”
And in the end, I’d agreed. He was right; I do want to find Lex, and I’ll clearly do anything to make that happen. Even if I’ll never be able to live with myself afterward.
Aside from the lingerie, Eli told me to bring something else with me today, something hidden in the pocket of my jacket. I take it out and put it on. The mask is a black lace number with blood-red lace edging and makes me a f
eel a little more disguised at least. I hit the light switch in the bathroom and rummage in my purse for the only thing that’s going to keep me sane during this experience: a bottle of Valium. One of the perks of being a fifth-year resident is that there’s always someone available to prescribe medication when you need it, no questions asked. The sedative’s not even in my name, will never appear on my medical record. I pop one, just enough to keep me calm but not enough to make me drowsy, and then I peer into the mirror, fixing the band of my mask underneath my hair.
You look like shit, Sloane.
I tell myself this every time I look into a mirror these days. It may be the truth, but then again it may not. I’ve been staring at myself in mirrors for so long now that the reflection just doesn’t make any sense anymore. Lex was always the beautiful one. I know I have a nice body. Eli said that was the only reason he was willing to do business with me, because my tits were real and I had a nice ass. Your height might make some guys uncomfortable, but hey…not a lot you can do about that. I focus on the dark rings under my eyes, trying to remember that this is all temporary. It’s not forever. I’m a medical student after all. The body is just a machine, full of cogs and intricate parts all ticking away, working in harmony to keep you moving. Having sex is just making use of that machine, nothing more.
You can do this, Sloane. You can do this.
And then, not even two seconds later…
Lex wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you used and abused, selling yourself for so little. I hate that voice inside my head. It makes it so hard to justify going through with this, but it’s not as though I’m auctioning off my most valuable possession for drugs or money, or even fame and fortune like some girls do. No, I am doing it out of love. Love for Lex. Any sister would do the same.