Moth to a Flame

11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Regan

We’re finally together, the four of us. My family.

Our parents are here, visiting us in Brooklyn as they do once a month on a Saturday. Usually, we drop by our childhood home in Manhattan. Tonight, it’s our turn to host.

We’re all blissfully full from the Italian dinner Rosemary and I cooked, sitting in my living room in loungewear fitting for the weekend. Except Dad, who doesn’t leave his home in anything but jeans and one of his horror graphic T-shirts.

We’re laughing, talking, smiling.

Rosemary’s the one who’s cracking up the hardest when Mom tells us about a prank she pulled on Dad. Her laugh rolls from her freshly painted red lips.

Dad holds on to his large belly and Mom puts her almost empty wine glass on my coffee table.

And I’m here, happy with my family, curled up on my favorite armchair.

For a few hours, I too have forgotten about parole hearings and missing a dark and dangerous stalker with platinum-blond hair.

Lies.

I think about him so much. He’s intense and unhinged. He also told me I was his and promised me things that made me feel like I’d never felt before.

I don’t want to scare him off with a meet-the-parents this early. I definitely don’t want to stress my parents out by bringing home a stranger out of nowhere.

What do I even tell them?

Mom, Dad, meet the man who stalked me on the dating app and flirted with me by leaving me eyeballs on my doorstep? Oh, and by the way, I have these eyeballs in glass jars in one of my cupboards. No, I won’t get rid of them or hand them over to the cops. They’re from him. It’s kind of cute, isn’t it? These gifts from a complete stranger?

That won’t go well. Any of it. They’ll ask, at the very least, to hire people to vet him. I won’t let them.

Landon is the most normal thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to trust him.

I’m going to trust my gut. And Jigsaw.

God, I miss Landon. Can’t deny it any longer.

Dad points at Rosemary who’s just finished telling us about the latest book her romance book club discussed this month. “I have an idea. I’m finally ready to try writing romance.”

“Really?” All three of us ask him at the same time.

“Yes, really.” He nods, his voice lowering like it does when he’s about to tell one of his horror stories. This should be good. “A reality TV show on a stranded island. One woman chooses one man out of thirteen contestants.”

He pauses, giving each of us a meaningful look. Letting it sink in.

“You mean like The Bachelorette ?” I offer.

“Regan, I’m offended.” His hand splays on his T-shirt. “You know me better than that. There’s more to it. She doesn’t choose them by who’s the most attractive or funny or smart. This show happens near the apocalypse. She has to choose someone with…”

Another loaded silence to keep all of us guessing.

“Cooper!” Mom isn’t holding on to me anymore, both her hands clutching at his arm. “The suspense is killing me. How does she choose?”

“Survival skills.” His eyes twinkle, and he rubs his palms together. “Each episode is another torture challenge. If they live, they make it to the next episode. If not…”

“And she’ll end up with just one person?” Rosemary isn’t laughing anymore. She rubs Mojo behind the ears absently from their place on the armchair next to Dad. “It just goes on forever until the rest die?”

“Maybe two.” He turns pensive, stares at the ceiling, then Mom. “What do you think, Tiff?”

“I think whichever way you take this will be…” She curls both hands into fists, lifts them, and makes an explosive motion. “Poof. Dynamite.”

Her adoration is nothing new. They’ve always loved each other fiercely.

I never thought I’d get that. Or want that.

Things have changed.

My phone buzzes in the pocket of my hoodie. A message.

Landon: I’m coming over.

Butterflies. Butterflies and fireworks everywhere.

Also.

No. Yes. No. Yes.

Yes. When everyone’s gone. There’s so much to learn about him, and this kind of conversation can’t happen here. We’ll both jump each other’s bones.

Me: I’ll wait for you outside.

When my eyes snap up, I realize that I’ve been staring at my phone for too long. My family’s done with plotting for the time being. Dad’s getting his keys from the table where we had dinner, Mom is washing her wineglass in the kitchen sink.

I want Landon here. With us.

“Well, that was nice.” Dad helps Mom push her arms into her gray cardigan. He aims his warm smile at Rosemary and me. “As always.”

They hug Rosemary and me, and then he places his hand on the small of Mom’s back and ushers her outside. Her cheeks are rosy as if they’re eighteen again and he’s taking her to prom.

Landon and I could have that. He’s already proved he could be the lover I’ve been dreaming of. And I made him come too. We’re sexually compatible, there’s no denying that. He’s also hot and possessive. I’m as drawn to him as he is to me.

But there has to be more.

Mom and Dad are gone, and Rosemary is halfway out the door, Mojo glued to the slippers on her feet.

“Don’t forget to lock up,” she says over her shoulder. When she sees the excited smile on my face while I text Landon to meet me outside, she does a full turn. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

I nod.

She cuts her gaze to Mojo, who yaps. “I love you, doggo, but you’re useless. You like that giant.”

My smile tears at my lips. “He really does.”

Another sigh, except now her lips curve. “Take Jigsaw then? Please?”

My phone buzzes in my hand.

“I wouldn’t dare to leave home without it.”

As soon as I close the door behind Rosemary, I read Landon’s message.

Landon: You will absolutely not wait outside. It’s too late to stand out there by yourself.

Me: I have Jigsaw.

Footsteps echo in the hallway. A knock on my door.

I pull it open.

“You have me.” He pockets his phone, glowering at me.

Every inch of my body lights up at the sight of him. My heart thuds against my ribs. I’m on a slippery slope to crazy town as I take in Landon’s large, ominous, and all-consuming presence.

How he fills my doorway.

The way he’s looking at me. I recognize that look.

These wild, black, hungry eyes.

It’s the rest of him that confuses me.

The rest of him is so formal.

Not a strand of his platinum-blond hair that falls to his shoulders is out of place. He’s wearing a navy suit that molds to his body without a crease on the expensive fabric.

Even his dress shoes look new.

“Regan.” His finger is under my chin, tipping my face up to meet his stormy gaze. “You have something to say to me, you say it. No hiding. None of this silence bullshit. You hear me?”

I gulp. How does he manage to make orders sound so sexy?

“I hear you.”

“Then?”

“You’re different. Not in a bad way.”

He smirks, and I don’t get another word in or an explanation from him. I get his hot lips on mine, his hands in my hair, and his tongue demanding access to my mouth. He licks and bites and dominates me until I’m lightheaded.

Until I’m moaning and clutching the lapels of his jacket.

I pull back an inch. “Why are you wearing a suit on a Saturday?”

I’m being dragged into another slower, languid kiss. Like he approves of my question.

“Went to the office to change before I came here.”

His thumbs stroke my cheeks.

And then it’s gone. The scars on my stomach. The emptiness inside me. The nightmares. The daunting memories.

Landon is dark and scary enough to slay each and every one of them.

But that’s all that I know about him. That he’ll go to war for me. That he’ll kill for me, which he already has.

Oh, and that his name is Landon Sterling, who’s the CEO of Moth to a Flame. The man who made me come so hard I almost fainted.

That’s about it.

I need more.

This isn’t a trust issue. I trust him wholeheartedly. I don’t think I’m wrong or stupid or na?ve to do that. My gut feeling can’t be that far off.

I need to get to know him because I’m curious. He’s so mysterious. That’s mainly why I didn’t want to meet up here. So we could talk. “You have meetings over the weekends?”

His lips dip to my neck, his hand fisting my hair and tugging. I gasp as his lips run a hot, barely there trail up to my jaw. He sucks and kisses me there, and then his lips hover over my ear.

“Little lamb. Another second of this…” He groans and bites my earlobe. Instead of running away, I lean into him. “I’ll rip your fucking clothes off. I’ll tear you apart. And I don’t think that’s what you meant when you said you wanted to meet me outside.”

Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

In the silent hallway, that’s everything I hear. My heart roaring in my ears.

Because he’s hot.

Because he’s giving me exactly what I want, no questions asked.

“Yes.” I straighten my spine, looking him in the eye. Into the burning coals. “We’ll go. Only if you promise to tell me what you did in the office.”

“I had business in the city. It got messy. Had to change out of my clothes and my offices were closer than my home. I only have clean suits there, but I wanted to see you, so I changed that. The end.” His hand slides down my leggings, and he smiles when he finds my gun there. “What’s this? Still scared of me?”

Honesty goes both ways. “I don’t go anywhere without it.”

His eyes grow impossibly darker. His fingers pull harder on my hair. “Good girl.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“You have every right to.” His voice is husky and dangerously low. “Don’t ever apologize for that. Don’t trust anyone who hasn’t earned it, Regan.”

Heat creeps up my neck, burning my face. I swallow around the lump in my throat.

“Let’s get out of here, or you can trust another thing, and that’s that I’ll fuck every hole in your body all the way to next year.”

We’re out in the street in a matter of seconds. The temperatures have dropped over the last week. The air is cool around us. Except I’m not cold. I’m cocooned into Landon’s side, with his arm slung possessively around my shoulders.

For the first few blocks, we’re silent, walking under the white glow coming from the lampposts. Watching cars driving by. One of them honks. The other man flips him off.

I giggle, and Landon squeezes me into him. I can’t remember the last time I laughed around a man who isn’t Dad or one of our elderly customers.

Landon raises an eyebrow, eyeing me closely as we cross the road. “You have questions.”

Out of the million other things I could ask, this is the question that pops up. “Am I getting another pair of eyeballs tonight?”

His expression is blank, like he’s considering his answer. “No.”

“What got messy then?”

At that, his lips curl to the side. Just a tiny bit before he looks straight at the street ahead. “Surprise.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“Yes.” The corners of his eyes crinkle, and I can tell how hard he’s trying to suppress a smile. “When the time is right.”

I mull his answer over in my head, deciding it satisfies me enough to ask another question. “Where do you live if not in the city?”

“I could tell you.” He gazes at me again, playfully tugging on my hair. “Though I’d much rather show you, little lamb.”

“No.” The answer comes out too fast and it’s all wrong. “Not right now.”

“Fair enough. But I can’t promise to be patient for long.” His husky voice will be the end of me. “My turn. When did you open the store? Why repair electronics?”

“When I was eighteen. We inherited the building from our grandparents, and I needed not to live too close to where I grew up, after…”

My shoulders slump. Landon’s there in a heartbeat, stopping and pulling me into his embrace. He doesn’t pity me, though. He’s just there, strong enough for the both of us. For me to continue.

“Rosemary is two years older than me. She wouldn’t move out before I graduated from high school.” Talking about my family and Landon’s hug are a balm to my soul. I pull on his hand, signaling for us to keep walking. “Until then, she helped Mom manage Dad’s finances and other administrative work. As soon as I graduated, we moved out here.”

“No college.” A statement, not judgment.

“Nope, neither one of us.” I shrug. “Dad wrote his debut when he was sixteen. Maybe you’ve heard of it, Brandon’s Skeleton .”

“Have I heard of it?” What’s this? I managed to surprise the big, unflappable Landon Sterling? I think I have. “Jesus, it’s only one of the most famous horror books ever. They turned it into a movie.”

My chest puffs with pride. “I thought you knew, Stalker.”

“Brat.” Landon’s large palm cracks on my ass. I laugh, trying to run away before he hauls me into his chest. It’s awkward, walking with my back to his front. We do it anyway. “I had no idea he was sixteen when he wrote it.”

“Yeah. Writing has always been his passion. That and my mom. He had his mind set on starting a family with her right after high school and being able to provide for them. So he wrote a book.”

“Just like that?” Landon leans over and kisses the top of my head.

“Yeah. Just like that.”

“Is that how you and Rosemary learned how to repair electronics?” We walk around a man wearing headphones and bobbing his head to the beat. Landon handles me carefully until I’m at his side again. “Just like that?”

“Nope. Mom taught us everything we know.” I turn to him, grinning widely. “She has the magic touch. Rosemary and I were like two groupies, always watching her. We never had to go to a repair store for anything. Ever.”

“Impressive.”

I reach for his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “My turn. What about your family?”

“My parents are dead.” His voice is flat. Expression blank. “Before you say anything, don’t. You don’t have to be sorry. She sure wasn’t.”

In four short sentences, Landon has turned my world upside down. It’s not that I’m that sheltered that I think everyone’s parents are like mine. Couples divorced. Separated. Died in freak accidents or of terminal illnesses.

The way Landon talks about his parents, though, it makes my heart drop.

“What are you doing?”

He drags me to the nearby alley, slamming me into the brick wall.

“I’ll tell you what happened.” His hair frames his face as he leans into me. “First things first, otherwise everything will get real depressing real fast. I’m not leaving here without talking to you about this.”

“This?” God, this dark alley. The huge man. How he cups my cheeks and makes me weak for him.

If there was ever a time to be afraid…

Except I don’t smell rotten apples. I don’t feel grass scratching the back of my body over and over and over again.

I smell a slightly spicy and highly intoxicating cologne. A hint of the ocean. I have a firm brick wall at my back.

The huge man doesn’t use an ounce of force to get me to bend to his will.

He uses his heart.

That, more than anything, makes all the difference.

“Free use.” His fingers dig into my jaw, tilting my face up even higher. “Have you ever heard about that?”

“No.” But it sounds hot. Everything that comes out of his mouth does.

“In Moth to a Flame, you were looking for a consensual non-consent role play.”

I will not be shamed for my fantasy. I will not stand here and feel like I’m about to light up in literal flames while I hear him talking about it.

With my chin raised even higher, I say, “I was.”

“I want to give it to you. Fuck, it’s hard to hold back as is.” He’s passionate and dark. How can I be embarrassed when it’s something that he likes too? I can’t. “I need your consent. Your universal consent to catch you off guard. Violate you. Own you however and whenever I like.”

Landon’s body reverberates with violent energy. It bleeds from him to me, lending me so much strength that it’s impossible to keep bottled up inside.

Tears roll down my cheeks, cascading down to his fingers.

“Talk to me, Regan.” His expression softens, barely. “Do not try to please me. Don’t tell me yes because I’m asking for it. Tell me what you want, or so help me—”

“Yes. Please, yes. I want it.” Nodding when I’m pinned to a brick wall hurts.

Nothing hurts more than thinking that no one will ever understand you. That no one will know how to see through your trauma. He does. He even cares enough to accept a rejection, damn him.

“So much. More than anything. Because it’s you. It’s with you. I trust you, Landon.”

“Baby.”

Every kiss with him is a new experience. Every time his lips press to mine, the electricity that jolts up my spine is different. The goosebumps spreading on my skin don’t feel the same.

My nipples are harder than ever before. My panties are ruined.

Then I remember.

“Your parents.”

He groans. Shakes his head.

Relents.

“They used to be sort of famous too. Or should I say, infamous .” He turns his head to the side, unable to look me in the eye. It’s made more obvious when he laces his fingers into mine and demands I follow him out into the street. “My mom was the jealous type. Too jealous. Too obsessed with my father. He loved her. Was willing to ignore a lot of red flags when it came to her.”

I squeeze his hand. Reminding him that I’m here. He’s quiet for a long while until we get to my apartment.

“Spend the night with me?” This is insane. The idea of a man sleeping in my place is absolutely crazy.

But he’s not just any man. And when he says yes, I feel butterflies instead of terror.

“I’m not my mother. Please remember that. Always.” The door clicks shut, and Landon flips the lock without turning away from me. “Her obsession drove her mad, and not in a good way. When the doctor told her that they were expecting a girl—my little sister—she couldn’t take it. The day she miscarried was the best day of her life. The other woman is gone . Her words, not mine.”

I’m speechless. I never heard of this level of obsession. I never thought…

With one arm around my back and a hand in my hair, he glares at me. “I want a million children with you. You could grow an alien in your stomach, and I’d still want it. Badly.”

It takes everything in me not to cry. Not to eclipse his story with my tragedy.

He dreams about a big family, and I…

Sigh .

“My dad was as faithful as they come. Stopped going out with his friends, didn’t talk to other women. No other woman. Even waitresses.” Deep breath . “She killed him anyway. Left a note. She said it hurt to love him that much. That she wasn’t willing to have anyone else take her place once she was gone. I’m not her. I am not her, Regan. I swore I wouldn’t do that to you, and I won’t. You have my word.”

“I know.” I really do. That’s not why I hurt like something’s eating me from the inside.

His lips clamp shut. There’ll be no more talking today.

That’s okay. I don’t have anything to say, either. Don’t have anything to do other than care for him and shoulder this incredibly painful burden of his history with him.

“Let’s go to bed, love.”

“Yes.”

He lets me remove his suit jacket and his shirt. Nothing sexual is going to happen tonight. I just need him here. Can’t let him go back to wherever it is he lives by himself.

Fuck, I don’t want to be left by myself.

This is where we need to be. Together.

He, me, and Jigsaw, that for the first time ever, is locked in its designated safe.