Legal Guardian: OTT Dark Stalker Romance (Dangerous Desires Book 1)

2. Anna

After eating every single thing Mark buys me at the only drive through in Crescent Bay, I let him take me home.

The house is as dark as it was on the day Dad died, and I pick at my dress before mustering the courage to head inside. “Thank you,” I say to Mark, biting my lip as I turn to face him. “I’m not sure how I would have gotten home. And the food - thank you for that. I appreciate it.”

“Someone has to take care of you, Anna.”

There’s a conviction in his voice that’s hard to ignore and even harder to let go. We’ve spent less than an hour together, hardly said a word to each other, and somehow he’s already taking care of me.

And I like how it feels.

Not only is he warm to the touch, but his actions are kind. He cares, which is more than I could say about my father over the last five years.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, even though I’m not sure if I believe it. “I’ll be okay.”

Mark sighs and runs a hand down his face, clearly frustrated. “Don’t lie to me, Anna. Don’t ever lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.” I open the car door and slide down onto the driveway. “I can handle myself.” I can hear Mark grumble something that sounds like but you don’t have to and in the next instant, he’s slamming his own door shut and coming around to stand by me.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you pack.”

“What?”

He sighs again and places both hands on my shoulders. “You’re not going back to this house. Yes, I brought you here - but not to drop you off. We’re packing whatever you want to take with you, and then we’re going home. To my house. I’m not letting you live alone in that—” His eyes cut sharply towards my parent’s house and a scowl forms on his lips. “You’re coming home with me, Anna. We’re going in there to pack what you need, and then we’re leaving.”

“What if I want to stay?” I stare at the front of the house, with its untrimmed lawn and chipped, dirty paint, and try to remember what it was like five years ago - before my mother passed. The first memory that comes to mind is actually one of Mark - sitting in the den with an eggnog in hand, the fire beside him crackling and painting him in an orange glow. He never had family, so he spent his holidays with us.

I’ve had a crush on him since I was a teenager. But more than that, Mark feels like home. Like the home I lost five years ago. And I’ll give anything to have that back.

“No,” I admit slowly. “No, I don’t want to stay here.”

I want to be with you.

“Alright then. Let’s head inside. But if you’d rather stay out here…” Mark gives me a sidelong glance. “I don’t mind going in for you. I’ll grab some of your things and make this quick.”

My heart clenches at how kind the gesture is, but I shake my head. “I need to have closure. Even just a little…”

He lets me hold his hand as we walk to the front door. I never locked it on my way out earlier; what’s the point? No one’s home. It’s not like they’re going to find much amidst my dad’s empty beer bottles and cereal boxes anyway.

As I leave Mark to gather whatever belongings are worth salvaging, I hear him muttering curses to himself. He’s always within sight, and every time I glance back to check that he hasn’t abandoned me yet, he’s watching me. Waiting for me.

“Take as long as you need,” he says after the fifth time I look back at him. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Tears pool in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. “Thank you.” Quickly, I gather what I can from my bedroom and shove them into one of my mom’s old quilted duffel bags. Before leaving my bedroom, I grab the one framed picture I own - a still shot of me, my parents, and Mark at the last holiday we spent together. In fact, it might actually be from the day—

I suck in a breath and place the frame deep in my bag. My mom died during the holidays in a mugging gone horribly wrong. I don’t know the details; my dad didn’t see it fit to tell me what happened, and the cops wouldn’t tell a minor anything. I just know that she went out for whatever we had forgotten at the store and didn’t come home.

Dad was never the same after that.

I don’t blame him for it - he was heartbroken, and some broken things can’t be fixed. No matter how much I tried to make things better, to be a good daughter and get good grades and bake him cakes for his birthday or any of the other countless things I tried and tried and tried… it didn’t matter. Not really. He used to try and smile through the pain, but over time only the bottle helped numb him to sleep. He did that a lot over the past year. Sleep and drink. Drink and sleep. Forever on repeat.

For some reason, Mark was never there. He missed the bad years.

I watch him frowning at the mess in the living room and am grateful he’s here now. Whatever happened between him and my dad… I don’t care. I’m just glad Mark’s here.

I pack a few more things in my bag: a hairbrush, toothbrush, miscellaneous clothes I like, and the few GED study books I own. Maybe one of these days I’ll actually earn the thing and consider having a different life.

“You ready?” Mark asks as I exit my bedroom, already coming over to take the bag from my hands. “Is this everything?”

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot that I really need.” I shrug about it, but Mark’s jaw clenches.

“Are you sure? We can look around if there’s something you’ve always wanted - maybe something of your mom’s?”

“No, I— I wouldn’t know where anything is anyway. Dad kept a lot of stuff locked up.” Sadness seeps into my chest but I don’t let it settle. I don’t need any of it. I’ll always have my mother’s memory with me.

“Okay,” Mark says hesitantly. “Then let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads me out of the house. We don’t bother locking it. There’s nothing left there for me anyway.