HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  My phone beeps with an incoming notification and I reach for it on the counter. It’s a text from Wyatt. My lips curve up into a smile at the words he’s sent me, and my irritation immediately disappears.

  WYATT: GOOD MORNING BEAUTIFUL. REMEMBER. I GET OFF AT 6. THEN YOU GET OFF. BE NAKED.

  I bite the inside of my cheek, then begin to type out my own message.

  I plan on it. You are a messy boy, btw. The three little dots appear and then disappear and then reappear as he types his message.

  I hold my breath, waiting and wondering if I messed up by mentioning how completely disastrous, he is at keeping his shit together.

  WYATT: FUCK, SUGAR. I’M SORRY AS SHIT. I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU.

  Before I can respond, he sends me another message.

  WYATT: MY CURRENCY IS ORGASMS. LOTS OF ORGASMS.

  With a smile, I type out a reply. This time, okay. Next time, not so sure. Just put your clothes in the hamper.

  WYATT: WILL DO, SUGAR.

  I turn toward the mess that he’s left me, yet, somehow, I don’t feel as irritated as I did just a few moments ago. Instead, I feel even more excited for tonight. Not just for the orgasms, but because for the first time in my life, I have this adult relationship with sweet banter. It isn’t hurtful, it isn’t degrading. It’s cute, and I know he meant it when he said he was sorry.

  I have zero illusions that next week his clothes will magically appear in the hamper. However, I don’t really care. He’s here, and that’s all I want right now. I’ll happily clean his mess as long as he continues to worship my body and care for my mind and soul the way that he does.

  Chapter Eighteen

  WYATT

  I rub the back of my neck, attempting to ease the tension of the day. Fuck. The crew before us fucked up. They set all of the goddamn poles wrong and used the wrong fucking materials. It cost the company money, which in turn cost me money.

  We had to redo the whole fucking thing, which cut into our profits. I’ll still get my paycheck, but my bonus for this quarter will be completely fucked.

  Slamming my palm down on my steering wheel, I let out a string of curses. I’ve already dropped Rylan off for the night and am heading home. The idea of Exeter waiting for me, naked, legs spread and full tits on display makes me feel marginally better. I’m going to need a shower before I dive into her though. I’m fucking covered in dirt and creosote.

  Turning down the road that leads me to the trailer park, I take a second glance when I see an old bright blue truck parked in the place I’ve claimed as my spot. I try not to jump to conclusions, but judging by the gunrack in the back window and the sticker that claims, I only brake for titties and beer, I can only assume this pickup belongs to a man.

  Parking behind Exeter’s car, I quickly jump out of my own pickup. Slamming the door behind me, I jog toward the front door. I’m no longer exhausted, adrenaline quickly fills my entire body with each step that I take. Reaching for the doorknob, I twist it open, pushing and taking a step inside.

  I’m expecting the worst, and that is exactly what I find. I freeze, my eyes focused on Exeter. She’s bent over the sofa, and a man is behind her. The sight of him makes me sick, but that isn’t what has me frozen. It’s the look in her eyes. They’re dead. Her eyes are fucking dead. She’s looking right at me, but she doesn’t see me.

  “I would take a step back or risk losing that pathetic thing between your legs,” I grunt.

  He laughs, moving backward. My gaze shifts from Exeter to him and I wait. “Got what I wanted anyway,” he announces.

  He stumbles, lifting his jeans over his hips and attempts to make his way past me. “You can do whatever you want, she’s primed now.”

  My entire body jolts. I come out of my frozen dazed state. Taking a step to the side, I don’t let him walk past me. I block the door and reach out, grabbing ahold of his shirt.

  “Let me go,” he barks.

  His teeth are yellow, he smells like cigarette smoke. He looks like my goddamn uncle, like Rylan’s dad, long and lanky, overly thin and twitchy. He looks like a goddamn tweaker. Turning him around, my hands still fisted in his shirt, I slam his back against the closed front door.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I growl.

  He smirks, the irritation of being held with his toes barely touching the ground completely gone. “She ain’t told you about me?” he asks.

  “No,” Exeter whimpers from behind me.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. I know who he is. His blue eyes flash, and something that her cousin Emily said pops into my head. “Her father.”

  “Bingo.”

  “You’re a sick motherfucker,” I grind out.

  My entire body is shaking with my anger. I don’t know what to do. Instinctually, I want to kill him, and I think I might anyway. He’s hurt her, he’s been hurting her.

  This is why she doesn’t talk to me.

  This is why we only fuck. Why she looks like she’s waiting for me to turn my back on her at any moment.

  This right here.

  This sick piece of shit.

  Releasing his shirt with my right hand, I reach behind me and slam my fist into the side of his head. He lets out a wail at the same time Exeter screams. Reaching back again, I hit him a second time, then a third. His body goes limp, but I can’t stop. I hold him up with one hand and pummel him with the other.

  That is until I feel Exeter behind me. Her arms slide around my waist, her body presses against my back and only then do I pause. I blink. Looking at the man in front of me, his head lolling to the side, blood pouring from his head, from his mouth and his cheek.

  “He’s not going anywhere now, Wyatt,” she whispers.

  “He ain’t dead,” I state, still holding him, rage still coursing through my body.

  She hums. “He’s not. But he won’t be bothering anyone tonight,” she points out.

  I jerk his limp body forward, reaching behind him to unlock the door. Then like a fucking ragdoll, I shove his body out of the front door and slam it closed, locking it behind me.

  Spinning around, I focus my eyes on Exeter. Gone is the dazed glazed over look on her face, thank fuck, but the apprehension that I see makes my stomach twist. She looks scared—of me. “Exeter…”

  “He didn’t do anything. He couldn’t get it up,” she states, turning her head to the side.

  I clear my throat. “Sugar, I’m gonna need a whole hell of a lot more than that.”

  She takes a step back, clasping her hands in front of her and looks down at the ground. Her hair is down and hangs over her face, reminding me of the way it was when she rode me just a few days ago. She inhales so deeply that I can hear it from where I stay standing, waiting, excruciatingly waiting, for her to speak.

  When she slowly lifts her eyes to mine, they’re filled with wet tears. Her lips are trembling, and her body shakes as well. I watch as she wraps her arms around her waist and it kills me not to grab her and hold her, but she needs to tell me what the fuck is going on.

  EXETER

  He’s watching me—waiting. He doesn’t look disgusted, yet. He will, no doubt about it. I lick my lips, tasting the salt from the tears that have started to fall down my cheeks. I don’t ask him to sit down, this isn’t a gentle conversation, this is raw and disgusting.

  “That was my father. I have been able to steer clear of him for a while, several years actually,” I begin. “I saw him at MawMaw’s the other day. He was his normal foul self, but with only his words, to me at least. I asked MawMaw what he wanted, but she wouldn’t tell me why he was there, she looked upset though. I think it was to shake some money out of her. He’s been able to strong-arm her for years.”

  “Fuck,” Wyatt hisses.

  I don’t allow him to say anything else before I continue. “He abused me my entire life, Wyatt. Emily’s father is his brother and he did the same to her, too. It’s like they were born that way,” I state.

  Wyatt grunts. “Not born, sugar, molded. They were proba
bly abused too, don’t make it right, nothing could ever make that right.”

  “I know,” I whisper with a nod. “I got away from him when I was sixteen, moved in with MawMaw and I think she paid him to stay away. She was always so strong, she never admitted it, but after the other day, and I remember him coming to the door when I lived there a couple times a month, it would make sense.”

  “She was tryin’ to protect you,” he offers.

  Gulping, I lift my chin up to him. “She tried to help Emily too, but they aren’t blood-related. MawMaw is my mother’s mom.”

  “Where’s your mama?”

  My eyes close and a few more tears escape and trickle down my cheek. “She died when I was ten,” I whisper.

  Memories of my mother are painful, mostly because I don’t remember her very well. She’s this hazy thing in my distant memory banks, this dark-haired beauty that doesn’t seem quite real most of the time.

  Wyatt’s feet move, they stomp toward me and he gathers me in his arms. “I shouldn’t be touching you, I have shit on my clothes, but fuck, sugar.”

  Lifting my head, I tilt it all the way back and look into his eyes, watching him. Waiting for him to release me and walk away. “Is there any way he hurt your mama too?” he asks.

  My body jerks. The thought had never crossed my mind, not once. “I don’t know,” I admit on a wheeze.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “I’m going to go and kill him,” he grinds out.

  I lift my hands, fisting his shirt and pulling him against me. “No,” I state. “I don’t know why he was here, I don’t know what possessed him to show up, but this is the first time since I left that house that he’s tried anything. I just want to forget it happened.”

  Wyatt shakes his head. “He’ll be back, sugar. He’ll be fuckin’ back.”

  Rising to my feet, I press my lips against his, closing my eyes, I inhale his spicy scent, wondering if this will be the last time that I ever have him right here in front of me. His hands wrap around my waist and he tugs me closer to him, my body crashes against his and as much as I shouldn’t be, I’m immediately turned on.

  “Wyatt, please,” I beg.

  He grunts, resting his forehead against mine. “Exeter,” he breathes. “You gotta tell me everything, sugar. I need to know if I’m going to hurt you.”

  My heart fills, it fills so full that I think momentarily that it might explode. This man, this man is beautiful. He’s a hero, my hero.

  “You haven’t and you couldn’t hurt me, Wyatt. Not ever. You won’t want me anymore, though. That’s going to kill me,” I breathe.

  He snorts, bending his knees slightly, and then against gravity and all odds, he lifts me off of the ground. He carries me as if I weigh absolutely nothing and walks toward the bedroom. He’s done this once, but this time, it feels more—bigger.

  Setting me down on the bed, I bend my knees and look up at him. I watch in awe as he strips himself from his clothes. His work clothes are dirty, stained and tarnished from the long day out on the job he’s had.

  Reaching up, I begin to unbutton his shirt, revealing the tight dark gray shirt he’s wearing beneath. It fits him like a second skin, showing me his muscles beneath, hugging him every delicious way possible. I watch as he shrugs the over shirt off then he lifts his hand, tugging his gray shirt off from behind his neck.

  My mouth goes dry at the sight of his muscles, the smattering of hair on his strong chest, his trim waist leading down to lean hips. Reaching for his pants, I pop the button of his jeans, then slowly I tug his zipper down. Before I can move my hands to pull his pants down, he wraps his fingers around my wrist to stop my movements.

  “Exeter,” he rasps, his voice almost strained. Lifting my eyes to his, I wait for him to speak. “We shouldn’t do this. We should talk about what just happened here. About your past,” he grinds out.

  “I don’t want to talk about my past,” I snap.

  He lifts a brow at my outburst. “Exeter,” he warns. “We need to, I have to know that you’re…” His words trail off and I grimace.

  “You have to know that I’m not completely gone like Emily?” I ask, my voice softer than I would like, showing more than I want it to, more of my pain. More of my past—just more.

  He lifts his hand, reaching for me and cupping my cheek. “I know you aren’t gone, sugar. What I need to know is how badly you’ve been hurt. I want a future with you, and I need to be prepared.”

  “Why are you so, nice?” I ask.

  I expect him to give me a warm smile, but he doesn’t. He clenches his jaw and I watch as a muscle ticks, his eyes darkening a touch. I should be scared of the look on his face, but I’m not. He is, there is something about him that I know is just safe. He is safe.

  “I’m not,” he grinds out. But it’s a lie. He is nice.

  His fingers on my cheek move toward the back of my neck and he holds me there, his gaze never breaking mine. His eyes search mine, looking for an answer. I’m not sure he’ll like what he hears from me though. I decide to tell him some, but I can’t tell him everything, not yet at least.

  Inhaling deeply, I press my lips together, rolling them before I release them and tell him a little about my childhood. With every word I say, a storm brews behind his dark eyes. I can practically see the fury rising inside of him, filling him, for me.

  “It was a long time ago, MawMaw saved me,” I say.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t like this. I don’t like him bothering her, and I definitely do not like him sniffing around you either.”

  “I’m aware now. I won’t answer the door,” I shrug.

  He snorts. “No fucking shit. You won’t even be here.”

  “What?” I breathe.

  “I’m getting us a hotel for the month. When my place is ready, you’ll be there and safe.”

  “Wyatt, that’s crazy.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  WYATT

  Exeter sighs heavily next to me as I check into the hotel. The drive will be a little more for me each day. I’ll have to go twenty minutes back to Gallup to get Rylan every morning, but Exeter’s safety is worth the extra commute time.

  Although right now, she looks fit to be tied. I should fucking care, but I don’t. Even if I have to hold her down, she’s staying in this fucking hotel and staying goddamn put.

  The clerk hands me the keys and I thank him before turning and slide my hand along her lower back. Guiding her toward our room, I can’t help but notice how the closer we get to the room, the less full of dread she seems.

  Sliding the key into the lock, I turn the handle and gently push Exeter inside. I don’t bother with our luggage. Not right now, anyway. I’ll grab it later. Locking the door behind me, I watch her.

  I’ve been watching her since yesterday. We almost fucked, I was so close to giving her exactly what she wanted, but something stopped me. My pesky goddamn conscience.

  “You haven’t spoken a word to me since I told you my story yesterday. Does that mean you’re done?” she asks, her back to me.

  I almost laugh. I’m so far from done it’s ridiculous. I can’t verbally tell her that, though, it’s like I can’t reassure her, not yet. I’m waiting for another shoe to drop, there’s more, I can feel it. She’s not telling me everything, and me? I’m not telling her fucking anything.

  We’re a fucked up pair.

  “It means I’ve been thinking. I’ve been formulating a plan to keep you safe, and your MawMaw.”

  She blinks, her mouth opens then closes, then opens again. “What?”

  “Figured MawMaw wouldn’t be too keen on leaving her house and staying here,” I ask, arching a brow. She shakes her head. “So, I decided to tell Mama that she needed some looking after. We’re doing a family dinner tonight to introduce everyone to one another.”

  Exeter blinks, her mouth dropping, but this time it doesn’t close, she just stares at me with her jaw hanging open. I can’t stop the grin from spreading on my face. She’s so goddamn cute.


  “I visited with MawMaw before I picked you up, she’s glad to have the extra eyes looking out for her. She also agreed to call the sheriff if your father shows up again.”

  “Wyatt,” she finally exhales.

  Holding up my hand, I keep her from saying anything else. “Don’t want to hear your fucked up shit, sugar. Told you that on night one, meant it then, mean it now. You’re mine and I aim to protect you.

  “Now, you’re fixin’ to meet my mama in about two hours. She’s been chompin’ at the bit to meet you, she’s already asked everyone she could think about you, and she hasn’t found out a damn thing which is drivin’ her up a goddamn wall.”

  I watch as her face pales, and I’m sure she’s thinking about her past and my parents finding out.

  “Wyatt…”

  “They don’t know, and they won’t, unless you want them to. I told them that you were having problems with your father, who was a junkie. They know what it’s like, they watched Rylan’s parents for years struggle with addiction. They saw what it did to Rylan. They know, better than anyone. They will have nothing but compassion and they will never, not ever, judge you for your father.”

  Slowly, she begins to walk toward me. My breath is stolen when she reaches up and cups my bearded cheeks with both of her hands. “You are my hero, have I told you that?”

  “I ain’t a hero, sugar. Not in the slightest.”

  “You are to me.”

  Without another word, she rises to her toes and I don’t stop her. Those pouty lips that I worship, they touch my own and without another thought, I slant my head to the side, and I take her mouth. I take, take, fucking take as my tongue slips inside of her and tastes all that she has to offer.

  My hands glide down her body until I find her ass. Squeezing her, I pick her up and walk toward the bed. The backs of her knees touch the edge and slowly I arrange her on her back and slowly lower myself over her soft body.