Chapter 8
Reagan
Mason Bloom is staying in our house tonight.
Mrs. Bloom, his mother, died this morning. Heart attack. One minute she was making breakfast, the next she was gone. Just like that.
I wish I were that lucky.
My mother was the one who found the dead lady and called Mason to give him the news.
She and Mrs. Bloom were friends, and she offered to let Mason stay here for a few days.
“Until the funeral arrangements are settled. Mason’s dad left years ago, and they don’t know where he is.
Declan, Mason’s only sibling, is enlisted, and it’ll take him a few days to come home.
The poor boy shouldn’t be alone in an empty house. ”
How nice and kind of her! The good neighbor. The caring adult. The disguise that hides the monster she becomes behind closed doors.
It’s not like Mason needs any help. He has the MC. He can stay at the clubhouse, and he’ll have plenty of people to take care of him, keeping him warm and safe and loved. Unlike me, her own daughter.
Cold pierces my bones as I curl on the mattress. Its springs bite through the thin fabric. The flimsy, worn-out blanket isn’t doing much to warm me up. I’d kill for a hot drink or an extra blanket, but I can’t come out of my room until tomorrow because my mother has locked me in for the night.
“Can’t have you wandering around with a boy in the house,” she hissed, her breath reeking of vodka as she twisted the key in the lock. “I know what little whores like you do when men are around.”
I don’t argue. I just write down everything I feel, everything I need to say.
My journal sits on my pillow in the dark.
The cold steals the air from my lungs. The bed creaks beneath me, as if it might splinter under the weight of my trembling breath.
I tuck my knees up and pull the blanket tighter, listening to the silence beyond the door, waiting for it to break.
It’s going to be a long night.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My head snaps toward the sound. It’s coming from the window. Am I imagining things? I convince myself that I am. Getting up from under the blanket, despite how useless it is, is a sacrifice I’m not ready to make for a false alarm. I’ve barely just stopped shivering.
But then it comes again. Tap. Tap. Tap.
My heart stutters. I creep toward the window, my bare feet silent against the freezing floor. When I pull back the curtain, I jump.
Shane.
He’s crouched on the roof outside my window, his cut catching the moonlight. He grins, all cocky confidence, like sneaking onto a second-story roof in the middle of the night is the most normal thing in the world. “Open up, baby girl. Let me in.”
I fumble with the latch and push the window open. Cold air rushes in, sending a shiver down my back. “Shane? What are you doing here?”
“Move aside so I can get in. It’s freezing tonight.”
I glance over my shoulder at my locked door. “I...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Reagan.” His voice softens. “Please. Let me in. I wanna talk to you.”
I bite my lip, my pulse racing. Every instinct screams at me to say no, to close the window and pretend this isn’t happening. But it’s Shane. I can’t say no to him.
When I step back, he climbs through the window. His boots land softly on my floor. In this room, he looks like a giant. A very beautiful one. For a second, I forget about the cold and my mother and this night.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. “Club kicked you out?”
He laughs as he closes the window. “Why? You want me out and back in school to be a good boy for ya?”
No. I want him to stay in the MC, to take me to live there with him, to be the bad boy people fear so he can protect me forever. But I don’t say a word about it. I just shake my head.
“No one can kick me out, kiddo. Mark my words. I’m gonna run that place one day.”
That would be nice. If he were, he wouldn’t say no to my living there like that man who calls the shots. If only… “Why are you here then?”
“You mean ya don’t know?”
Should I? I search my brain for an answer. “You must need a place to stay for some reason. Why the window, though? You could’ve just used the front door. Mom and Dad love you. They’d be very happy to see you. They’d be even happier if you stayed for the night.”
“There’s another boy staying in the spare room.”
“So? Mason is your friend. You can share the bed.”
“Mason,” he spits the name. “You getting friendly with Mason, Reagan?”
“Not really.” I look down. “I don’t really have many friends.” Any. “I mean, he’s our neighbor, but he’s your friend, not mine. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with the sleeping arrangement. You two will figure something out.”
“I’d rather be sharing this bed.” He winks. “With my baby girl.”
A giggle slips out of my lips. I slap a hand over my mouth before my mother hears me.
His finger touches my chin and lifts my gaze to his. “What’re ya laughin’ at? Don’t believe me?”
I don’t know how he does it. Two minutes ago, my teeth were chattering. Now, one touch of his, and I’m a furnace. “Have you seen where I sleep, Shane? No one in their right mind would want to share this bed.” Definitely not with this girl.
“Oh yeah?” He kicks off his boots and lies down on the mattress.
I stifle another laugh. He doesn’t share my sarcastic humor, though.
His eyebrows hook as he inspects the bed and my blanket.
“Fuck. This is…” He swears some more, his eyes angry at the walls.
“Hey.” He jumps to his feet and rubs his hands over my arms. “You must be freezing in here.” He takes his cut off and makes me wear it. Then he reaches out and cups my cheek.
My heart beats so loud he might hear it. He steps closer, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He’s not looking me in the eye, though. He’s staring at my lips.
“Shane,” I gasp for a breath, “why are you here?”
“I’m here for you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. I don’t want ya alone in the house with another boy.”
“What?” Confusion swamps me for a minute until I realize what he means. He thinks like my mother. I’m just a little slut who will throw herself at his friend.
I push his hand off my face and shrug his stupid cut off. “I’m not a whore, you know?”
He wraps the jacket back around my shoulders. “Think I don’t know that? You’re the most innocent girl I ever saw.”
“Then why have you gone all this way to protect your friend from me?”
“What? No, Reagan, I’m protecting you from him. I don’t want him near ya. Didn’t ya hear him the other day? He has a thing for innocent girls like you.”
Girls who look like Brittany Johanson, not me. I narrow my gaze at him because he’s being silly. “Shane, it’s Mason Bloom. He’s like sixteen or something. And he’s grieving. He’s not—”
“I don’t give a fuck.” His voice is sharp when he cuts me off. “I don’t want you alone with him. Or any other guy.”
The intensity in his tone ties my stomach into a knot. I should be scared. I should tell him to leave. But instead, all I can think about is how he’s looking out for me, how safe I feel with him.
“Mother locked me in anyway.” I gesture toward the door. “He couldn’t be alone with me even if he wanted to.”
Shane’s expression darkens. “She locked you in?” He tries the doorknob, and the harsh sound of the lock answers him. “What if you need the bathroom?”
With a sigh, I curl back up on the bed. “I’ll have to hold it.”
He drags a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, Reagan. That woman is a fucking—” The heat of his body suddenly engulfs me as his strong arms fold around me.
In an instant, I melt. I close my eyes and allow myself to dissolve in his embrace, where there is nothing but warmth and care and shelter…and maybe even…
The mattress dips under his weight. His calloused thumb brushes away a tear I don’t realize has fallen. “I’m gonna get you outta here,” he says quietly. “I promise. One day, you’re not gonna have to deal with her shit anymore.”
When? My throat tightens. “Shane—”
“I mean it.” His blue eyes burn into mine. “You’re gonna be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly it hurts. “You should go. Mason isn’t going to come anywhere near me, not that he ever would. I’m thirteen, Shane.”
“You don’t look thirteen anymore, though, not to me, and if I see it, someone else will, too.” He glances at my bed, then back at me, a slow smile curving his lips. “I ain’t going anywhere. I’m sleeping here tonight. With you.”
My face flushes hot. “But… I…”
“Relax, baby girl. I’m your big brother. Just gonna make sure you’re safe. That’s all.”
“But…what happens when she unlocks the door in the morning and sees you here?”
“I’ll tell her I’m the knight who came to save the princess from the wicked stepmother.”
I snort a laugh. Sometimes, I think she’s my stepmother.
Sometimes, I imagine Prince Charming killing the wicked witch and taking me to his castle.
Sometimes, I picture killing the hag myself.
“But this is real life. As unbelievable as it may sound, she’s my real mother.
And there’s no such thing as fairy tales. ”
He pulls me closer into his arms as he makes us both lie down. “I know.”
“Seriously, she’ll hurt me. You don’t understand how bad it’ll be. The things she threatened to do to me…”
“What things?”
I swallow, the terrifying images flooding in. I can’t summon the courage to tell him.
“Tell me, Reagan, what things?”
I’m too ashamed to speak, so I just open my journal and show him.
Flames blaze in his eyes when he’s done reading. He slams the journal shut. “Let her come in.” His voice is menacing. “I want her to see me. I dare her to try and do something to hurt ya.”
My breath hitches. “Shane, she’s—”
“I mean it, Reagan. Let her try. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of her.”
I don’t fight or argue anymore. I crawl in and pull the thin blanket over myself. Because the truth is, I want to believe him, and I don’t want him to leave.
He slides in beside me, his body pressed against mine in the cramped space. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close, tucking me against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat and smell the leather and musk that clings to him, and now me.
I close my eyes and let myself sink into his warmth, his strength. For tonight, at least, I’m safe. As his fingers trace lazy circles on my arm, I try not to think about what tomorrow will bring.
I try not to think about the fact that I’m thirteen and he’s seventeen.
I try not to think about the way my heart races every time he calls me baby girl.
I try not to think about how wrong this is.
I try not to think about what happens when this door unlocks.
Until it does.
“Shane,” I elbow him, the jiggling of the keys thudding in my chest, “wake up. She’s here. She’s going to see you.”
He barely moves.
“Oh my God, Shane, please, wake up, now.”
Finally, his eyes open, but it’s too late. The door opens, and Mother’s face pins me down with a glare. I almost pee myself, bracing for the worst. “She’s going to kill me this time,” I mutter to myself in surrender to my fate. Maybe it’s for the best. What I have isn’t a life to fight for.
“Shane?” my Mother asks quietly. “Is that you?”
He gets up and squares his shoulders, blocking me from her view. “Yeah.”
“Good morning,” she says.
Good morning?
He leans against the doorframe. “Next time you have a guest in the house, they sleep in this room because Reagan is gonna take the other one from now on.”
“But—”
“And your guests are the ones you lock in for Reagan’s safety, not the other way around, ya hear me?”
She pauses, and I feel her eyes on me even if I can’t see her. “She pissed in your ear, too? You’re sticking your neck out for this shitty whore now?”
“She’s not a whore,” he seethes. “And you won’t lay another hand on her. Do. You. Hear. Me?”
Another pause, longer than the first.
He’s pushing too far. I only want her to stop hurting me. I don’t need another room. I’d sleep in the bathroom if it got her to stop torturing me. “Shane, it’s okay. This room is fine. I don’t—”
He cuts me off with a glare. Then he looks back at Mother. “I asked you a question.”
She blows out an angry breath. “I hear you, son. You got it.”
Did I hear her correctly? Did she say yes?
“Good.” Shane winks at me, shifting a little off the door. “Now, I’m hungry. Reagan, too.”
My mother doesn’t even look at me. She turns away. “Fine. I’ll fix y’all something to eat.”
What? I can’t remember the last time she fixed me a meal. If I don’t make my own food, I don’t eat.
“Come downstairs to say hi to Mason.” And just like that, her footsteps trail down the stairs. She sees a boy sleeping in my bed and she doesn’t beat me or call me names or sew my vagina shut. She’s even making us breakfast.
Shane closes the door and smiles at me. “Good morning, baby girl. What’d ya like to eat today?”
My mind reels. I stare at the closed door. My heart is still pounding from the terror of that moment, waiting for her to explode, to drag me by my hair, to grab the nearest weapon and—
“Reagan?” Shane’s voice pulls me back. “Y’kay?”
I blink at him. “She...she didn’t hurt me.”
“Never again.” He sits back down on the bed beside me, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I told you I’d take care of it.”
“No, you don’t understand.” My mother—the woman who has tortured me for thirteen years, who has made my life a living hell, who has beaten me and starved me and threatened to mutilate me—is scared of Shane Fletcher.
My voice comes out shaky. “She’s scared of you.
” I let the truth settle into my bones. “You’re the only person she’s ever been scared of. ”
If Shane is the only boy my mother fears, then he’s the only boy who can protect me from her. He’s the only boy I can ever have.
“As she should.” A darkness touches his eyes. “Anything you want from now on, you tell me, and I’ll make it happen. You belong to me now, Reagan.”
Anything I want, he’ll make it happen. I didn’t know I was allowed to want things.
But with Shane, I can. I stare at him in awe.
This fantasy god who could make anything real with his power.
This fae prince who could bend the world to his will with his magic.
The bad boy who would burn the world down to protect the girl at any cost.
The thought should horrify me. Shane and I are never meant to be together. I’m thirteen. He’s seventeen. I’m Reagan and he’s Shane Fletcher. This is wrong. Everything about this is wrong.
But when I look at him—at the way he’s looking at me like I’m something precious, something worth protecting—I can’t bring myself to care.
“C’mon.” Shane stands and offers me his hand, that cocky grin back on his face. “Let’s go get some breakfast before she changes her mind.”