Текст книги "Relinquish"

Автор книги: M. N. Forgy

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Landon steps back and runs his hands through his hair, his chest lifting as he inhales deeply as if he’s trying to control his anger.

“This way.” He points ahead of me, walking up the stairs. I let out the breath I was holding and follow him.

Landon takes me to a room which looks like a mini-salon and massage parlor mixed into one. A large mirror is outlined in bulbs, with every kind of hair product sitting on a table beside it and a black swivel chair in front of it. At the back of the room, there is a large open window with a small padded table placed in front of it, possibly a massage table.

“You must be Charlie.” My head snaps to look behind me, finding a man and a lady walking in behind us. The lady has black hair bunched on top of her head and she’s tall. Her face is in the shape of a kissing fish, or like she just ate something too sour. Her lips are dark purple, matching her purple dress which hugs her neck and falls to her calves. The man has dark-colored, spiked hair, the front of it splashed a bright red, and he’s much shorter. His black-rimmed glasses are too small for his face. My eyes trail down his small frame, noticing he’s wearing a pink shirt and dark blue jeans with green shoes. I quirk a brow at his choice of clothes. They’re very flashy.

“She doesn’t want to be a Barbie,” Landon mocks, a small smirk across his face. I purse my lips at him and roll my eyes. “Find me when you’re finished,” he demands, walking off with his hands in his pockets.

“What should we do with her hair? A bob maybe?” she suggests, tugging on a strand of my wavy hair.

“Oh, Michelle, don’t you dare touch her hair with scissors. We haven’t had the opportunity to work with such beauty before,” the man scolds, his eyes wide and mouth gaped open as he looks at my hair with awe. I’m stuck frozen while they argue over cutting my hair, scared they’ll hack it all off.

“Oh, Gabe, don’t be so dramatic.” Michelle rolls her eyes.

“Sit,” Gabe demands, pointing to the chair. I swallow hard, fighting my nerves, and sit in the chair. Jeez, is everyone around here so bossy?

For the next three hours, I am picked, prodded, waxed, and peeled. My entire body either burns or itches from all the beauty procedures I’ve endured. That massage table turned out to be a thing of nightmares. It’s where you lie to have hot wax torture. The only break I had was when a doctor came and took a blood sample then examined my private parts. Getting poked by a needle was the least painful of everything, strangely. I feel violated from head to toe right now.

“So, I’ll start the makeup if you want to go buy the wardrobe,” Michelle states, handing Gabe the chart with my body measurements on it.

“I’m on it. Oh, you should do a smoky eye shadow, but nothing heavy.” Gabe lights up, looking me over with excitement.

“I’m sorry, are you shopping or doing makeup?” Michelle props her hand on her hip and tilts her head to the side. Gabe rolls his eyes, throwing a hand at Michelle dismissively as he walks out of the room.

I feel like a doll being morphed into the perfect candidate for some lonely man. Even with all the glamour this place has to offer, I feel alone.

“You all right?” Michelle asks, her forehead wrinkling with worry lines.

I shrug and sit in the makeup chair. I haven’t said much the entire time, except to call her or Gabe a bitch when they yanked a strip of wax off my private parts. They’ve pretty much been doing all the talking while fighting over me like a piece of meat.

“It isn’t so bad, you’ll see.” She smiles, grabbing some makeup from her black bag.

“You mean you’ve—”

“No, I wasn’t an escort, but I’ve seen girls who were nervous at first, then a month later were in nothing but pure delight.” She pauses in her step and smiles wide. “You’ll see.” She nods excitedly.

I give a kind smile in return, but I’m not nervous. I’m not sure what I am, but nervousness isn’t one of the feelings I’m experiencing.

“I’ve seen women with some of the biggest celebrities around here getting their picture taken, going from nobody to somebody, all because of working here.” Michelle’s face widens as she rambles in excitement.

“Do you know Ring Ryno?” she asks, opening some of the eye shadow containers.

“The actor?”

“Yes, him. He’s one of the Blackwell clients, and he got one of the girls an acting job on the side of working here. She has a beautiful house and looks very happy, if you ask me.” Michelle shrugs.

I look down at my hands and bite my cheek. Is that supposed to make me feel better? I didn’t ask for fame, and I don’t care for high profiles to swoon over. I just wanted to pay my rent, not feel so lonely, and be free. Have some control over my life. But in the end, I’m owned again. Only this time, it’s not by the state. I’m owned by Landon Blackwell.

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom before we start makeup?” I question, turning in my chair to look at her. I need a moment alone, some fresh air maybe. I keep taking deep breaths, but I don’t feel as if I’m getting any oxygen into my lungs.

“No, go right ahead. It’s right across the stairs.” Michelle smiles, setting the makeup down. I tighten the robe they gave me to wear after the hot lava of wax treatment and head toward the bathroom.

“I’m just on my way to get some apparel, Mr. Blackwell,” echoes throughout the large house. I stop and peer over the banister, finding Landon stopping Gabe by the front door.

“How is she doing?” Landon questions, his hands in his pockets. His tone is laced with care, like he might actually be worried about me. I frown, not sure what to make of it.

“Beautiful. She looks amazing,” Gabe replies proudly.

“Hmm. I’m sure,” Landon remarks, running a hand over the nape of his neck. He looks almost nervous, and it’s kind of cute.

“I was thinking about getting a blue dress, or white, or maybe a short red dress with her dark hair—”

“Black.” Landon blurts, looking down at the floor.

“I beg your pardon?” Gabe questions, his voice taking a tone of surprise.

“Get a black dress.” Landon looks up at Gabe and shrugs. “Every woman should have a little black dress, isn’t that how the saying goes?” Landon hesitates, as if he didn’t mean to add his input.

“Uh, yeah. I will. I’ll find a black dress.” Gabe sounds almost confused, shocked that Landon offered any input on clothes.

Landon gives a firm nod before heading toward the stairs. I flinch and hide behind a pillar next to the banister, hoping he doesn’t see me. After the front door closes, I risk a look and find Landon and Gabe gone. Landon must have gone to his office.

I let out a heavy breath and scamper off toward the bathroom, not entirely sure what I just witnessed. Is Landon treating me like crap because I’m his escort? He’s trying to make me hate him, make it easier for him to walk away. Am I happy that it’s not personal, or angry he’s trying so hard?

FOURTEEN

CHARLIE

“Which one do you like better, Charlie? Black or red?” Gabe asks, holding up the two dresses. I take my gaze from the mirror, looking over the makeup Michelle just finished, to glance at the dresses.

My mouth hangs open when I see the black one. I stand from the chair and caress the material between my fingertips. The fabric is soft and new, no wear, stains or tears. It’ll cup my shoulders perfectly, and it looks like the sleeves go to my elbows. It has a large V-neck that will reach well below my breasts, making me swallow hard. My eyes follow the material down, knowing it will rest on my ankles or lower.

“Landon himself asked for this color,” Gabe announces, tossing the red toward the chair. I don’t even know what the red dress looks like, and I don’t care, either.

“He did?” Michelle questions, shocked.

“This one,” I whisper, taking the black dress from its hanger.

“Here, take these, too.” Gabe hands me a black thong and some black, strappy heels. I look at the heels, which are beautiful and weren’t stolen. My eyes fill with tears at the things in my hands. I’ve never had something so nice before, and by the looks of these, so expensive.

“Are you okay, hun?” Gabe mutters, rubbing my back for comfort. I nod, smile, and drop my robe to try them on.

After I dress and pull my hair from my neck, I turn to look in the mirror.

My eyes widen as I take in a sudden breath. I look… stunning. My hair is curly, shiny, and smells of strawberries. My makeup is subtle, with some light blush, lip gloss and smoky eye shadow. The dress is snug, showing my curves to perfection. I don’t look like a Barbie. I look like Barbie’s hot vixen cousin.

I look over at Michelle and Gabe, giving each other high-fives.

“I’ll find Landon for my next instructions,” I state, leaving them behind in a giggling mess.

I head down the stairs, my hand trailing along the banister before turning toward Landon’s office. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my breathing comes in short spurts. I know I look good, and the bad girl in me wants to show it off, but my mind reminds me how Landon is a monster. He’s made me his puppet, and he’s the puppet master. I’m nothing but a figure to him in his pocket book. Just standing here outside his door, I can feel his strong energy from the other side, his smell making me second-guess whether or not he is a bad guy.

I don’t even knock, just open the door and enter.

“What is it?” Landon questions, his head tilted down as he scribbles across something on his desk. I don’t respond, just cat-walk to his desk and stand there, waiting for my next order. Landon huffs and glances up, doing a double-take. His eyes go wide and his mouth parts.

“Charlie,” he rasps.

“I’m…” I trail off, taken aback by his look of raw hunger. “I’m here for my next assignment,” I manage to spit out.

Landon pushes from his desk and stalks toward me, his eyes on fire and devouring every inch of my body.

“That dress, it’s perfect,” he groans, looking me up and down shamelessly. My body heats, heart pounding dangerously as my stomach knots and panties dampen.

“Well, you know, every woman needs a little black dress,” I remark nervously, looking at him from the corner of my eye.

He smirks knowingly.  “That they do.”

He steps behind me, his large hands resting on my shoulders, and my senses are consumed by the smell of him. He smells like fresh air and spice, causing me to close my eyes and inhale deeply. He brushes his nose up the side of my neck, the feeling of him touching me so intimate it smothers any morsel of resentment I have. I want to be mad, be a pain in the ass, but I’m sick. I’m fucked-up and just want to feel something, feel someone and not be isolated with the inevitable loneliness. If I’ve learned anything over the last few weeks, it’s that only Landon has seemed to stifle that ache in my chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I question, my words muffled from arousal. He doesn’t respond, just caresses his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck seductively, causing my head to loll to the side. A rush of desire races through my chest, and my breathing picks up.

“We can’t, remember? You’re my pimp, and I’m you’re escort. Rules,” I whimper, reminding him of his words from last night.

He growls, the sound of his teeth grating.  “Don’t ever call me that,” he rasps into my ear. The heat of his breath causes me to moan. He turns me around and picks me up, his fingers digging into my dress-cladded thighs.

“What if you’re not my escort right now? No rules,” he breathes heavily, placing me down on his desk.

“Like, pretending?” I question, digging my heels into his ass, pushing him closer.

“Exactly,” he whispers, brushing my hair from my face. “Just two normal people.”

“How do normal couples meet? What do ordinary people do when they’re together?” I murmur, not having the first clue how a normal couple does things.

Landon slides his hands up each of my thighs, pushing my dress up quickly, revealing my smooth legs and thighs.

“We met on a golf course. I asked you out on a date,” he mutters, his words drawn out and heavy with his harsh breathing as I undo his pants.

“I don’t sleep with a guy until date number three,” I inform him, my hands fisting his hard cock and pulling it free.  My mouth parts when I see it. I forgot how big, how thick it is. He hisses through his teeth as I slide my fingers along his shaft.

“Two, because you couldn’t resist me when I bought you some stupid necklace my shitty-paying job paid for,” he grunts. His hand dips below my dress and pulls my thong to the side, swiping a finger between my wetness, causing me to buck against his hand with an uncontrollable urge.

“You’re soaking,” he sighs heavily. I am. My body doesn’t respond to other guys like it does for Landon. He does something to me. Maybe it’s because he’s a prick. Maybe…

I spread my legs wide and grab him by the tie, pulling him toward me.

“Take me, Landon,” I beg, my mouth parted to allow my harsh breathing to escape. I can’t help my weakness for this man. He’s a vast ocean of sex and sin, and I’m just along for the ride. His tide is unavoidable.

He darts his hand behind his back and pulls his wallet out. His fingers tug at a condom and he rips it open with his teeth, placing it along his impressive length.

My eyes flicker from his cock to his green eyes, my body warming with excitement. He smirks in arrogance, slides my thong to the side again, and grabs me by the ass cheeks with the other hand, plowing his hard cock into my heat. My body arches, my hands choking his tie as he growls out with intolerable need.

“Yes,” I whisper, pleasure blossoming in the pit of my belly. All the air in my lungs vanishes with the breathtaking feeling of him deep inside me. This is what I needed, who I needed. When he’s inside me, he puts all the shattered pieces of my life back together. I can’t figure out for the life of me why I’m so drawn to him, but at this moment, I don’t give a fuck.

He thrusts into me again, a guttural moan leaving his lips as he picks up the pace. I close my eyes and allow the sensation of something other than pain, more than rock-bottom taking hold of my senses.

“Kiss me,” I moan seductively. I pull on his tie, bringing his lips to mine. As soon as they find purchase, my world explodes with feeling. His tongue seeks mine with greed, and I accept with a craving so hungry it will never be satisfied. Not with Landon.

I nibble on his bottom lip when he tries to pull away, bringing him back for one last taste. His palms graze the inside of my thigh, causing me to hiss with satisfaction. They sweep upward, his thumb finding my clit. He gives it a hard swirl, and that’s it for me. My eyes snap shut as I’m thrown into oblivion. My body thrusts uncontrollably and I spasm beneath him. My foot kicks the phone off the desk. I whimper, the pleasure borderline painful. He takes his hand from between my legs and grabs me by the ass cheeks hard, pounding into me as he roars with his release.

I pant for air, him still inside me as we both come down from our high, the sounds of our harsh breathing filling the silent room. He pulls his cock from me, causing shivers to race up my back.

He glances at me and swipes his thumb along his bottom lip.

I push my dress down and hop off his desk, the room strained with our silence.

A knock sounds at the door that has Landon shoving himself back into his pants quickly.

“Have you seen– Oh, there you are.” Veronica glares at me. “I was looking for you,” she remarks, crossing her arms.

“Here I am,” I reply, brushing my hair down.

“Yes, yes, you are,” she murmurs, arching a brow at me. “You clean up well.” She smiles, but her snarky-ass tone contradicts the expression.

“I take it the paperwork is filled out?” She looks around me, searching for Landon.

“I’ll take care of it, Veronica,” Landon clips, sitting in his chair. I bite my cheek, remembering that damn paperwork. I don’t want to fill it out, considering it’s the last nail trapping my freedom in a coffin.

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” she sneers, turning to leave.

“We’re done for the day. We’ll pick up with the paperwork tomorrow.” Landon doesn’t even look up at me, just resumes the paperwork on his desk. I bite my lip, my chest feeling the pinch of his cold tone. He’d do anything to get me out of here right now, which stings. I close my eyes and think about Jayden.

“Is there any way I can go home on the weekend, or see Jayden?” I question, peering up from under my lashes at Landon.

Landon flicks his gaze to mine, his jaw clenched.

“I’ll have Osborn give her a cell phone paid for by the company, so if she wishes to come by anytime, or speak to you, she can.” He picks up the phone on his desk, breaking eye contact. It’s not entirely what I was hoping for, but it’ll have to do. I nod, accepting his offer.

“Can you get Charlie a room in the east wing, please? Yes, the east.” He hangs up and turns back to me.

“That will be all, Charlie. A housekeeper will meet you at the stairs to show you to your room. Try and get some sleep; you have a big day tomorrow.” My lip curls with disgust. Disgust with myself. He acts like he cares, that he wants me undeniably so when he’s fucking me. But as soon as he pulls his dick from me, I feel like an expensive ho.

I spin toward the door and hold my head high.

“You might want to take that condom off,” I sneer as I’m leaving.

I head toward the stairs, where I find Veronica standing at the bottom step, her arms crossed.

“Charlie,” Veronica greets. It sounds as if she’s speaking of some disease that kills innocent people rather than my name.

“Let me give you a piece of advice. Stay away from Landon. You think you’re the only whore he’s showed any interest in? Do yourself and me a favor and keep your legs closed. I don’t want to have to find another slut to replace you when Landon can’t stand to look at you.” She arches an eyebrow and pops her hip out.

“Whatever you think is going on—”

“Don’t try and lie to me. I know what I walked in on, and his father would kill him if he found out. If I find you two together again, I’ll make sure not even Mick will take you back when I throw your ass out onto the streets.” She narrows her eyes in anger as I bite my bottom lip, rage flowing through me like a steady poison. I’m so sick of being told what to do, and how to do it. Just as I open my mouth to tell Veronica what I think of her, she stomps past me, her heels clicking against the floor as she heads off into another room.

“Charlie?” I turn around, finding a short, black-haired woman in a maid outfit.

“Yes,” I mutter.

“I’m Jean. This way, please.” She smiles and walks up the stairs slowly. “And don’t worry about Veronica. Nobody likes her,” the housekeeper huffs as she climbs another stair.

“Is she Landon’s ex-girlfriend or something?” I ask.  The way Veronica got so possessive over him, I can only guess there’s some kind of connection between the two.

“No. Landon’s father, Miller, got remarried to Tara, and Veronica is Tara’s daughter from another marriage,” she explains, finally reaching the top step.

“So they are—”

“Brother and sister,” she smiles, heading east. My head nearly explodes with the information. Does Veronica want in Landon’s pants? But then again, look at Landon. If he were my stepbrother, I’d still be just as attracted to him.

“Here you are. There’s a phone in your room if you need anything. Or you can ask Landon.” She points to a door all the way down the hall.

“Landon stays in the east wing, too?” I ask, looking at the door. It sits all the way at the end, by itself. There isn’t a door near it except mine.

“Yes. I’m surprised he has you down here and not in the west wing where all of the girls stay.” She shrugs and turns to leave.

My eyes flutter with the information as I inhale deeply. Why did Landon want me so close? Is this a game to him? My feelings, my emotions, my life?

“Do the other girls live here, too?” I question, still looking at his door.

“They come and go,” she informs me. I tear my eyes from Landon’s door finally and find a bright-eyed Jean looking back at me.

“Goodnight, Charlie.” Jean smiles.

“Night,” I whisper, my eyes trailing back to Landon’s door. I wonder what his room looks like. Is it just a room, or does it look like a house? Is he a slob, or very clean?

I shake my head and open the door to my room.

A large canopy bed sits in the middle, white and black sheer fabric hanging off it elegantly, and a huge, white comforter is placed perfectly on the bed. I gaze along the grayish walls, finding expensive paintings of half-naked people and a floor-to-ceiling window covering the entire back wall. A dresser and armoire are made out of the same dark color wood as the bed. This room is overwhelming, so many nice things.

Removing my dress, I kick off my heels and climb into the plush bed. I pull the covers over my head, hiding myself from the world, from myself. I take advantage of the expensive thread count surrounding me and cuddle close with the fine fabric. I’m so confused. I thought I could fight my attraction toward Landon, but I can’t shake the pull I have toward him. If I’m being honest, though, a piece of myself wants to be here with Landon. The moments he looks at me like I’m his world, and the way his fingers pull toward me when he’s near… it’s all surreal.

But the way he acts as if I’m his stars one moment and then the dirt on his shoe all in a blink of an eye, I know I shouldn’t feel anything but resentment toward him. What is wrong with me?

LANDON

I toss the condom in the trash and zip my pants. My heart drums against my chest and my forehead sweats. I just fucked her. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. The way she looked in that black dress, though, it was like watching a black panther prowl into my chambers. Something possessive and dominant escaped me without me even acknowledging it.

I blow out an irritated breath and lift from my seat, the smell of her and sex prominent in the air. I grab a tumbler and pour some scotch. Lifting the glass to my lips, my fingers brush against my nose, giving away the sweet smell of her pussy. I grit my teeth and throw the glass against the wall in a sea of rage.  She hasn’t been here five minutes and I’ve already managed to fuck this up. I need to stick to the plan, to the mission at hand and gain some damn control. I’ve never been so affected by a woman in my life; it bewilders me and pisses me off all at the same time. I need to get a hold of myself and remember what Charlie’s place is here at the estate. I close my eyes, knowing that’s going to be a hurdle. One I’m not sure I can leap.

“Sir?” I turn quickly, finding Jean red-faced and eyes wide.

“Is everything okay? Do you want me to clean that up?” She points to the wall with pieces of glass and scotch dripping down it.

“No, Jean. I’ll get it, dear,” I reply softly, my ball of rage slowly lifting from the nervous state she’s in. She’s been here since I was a boy. I respect her, especially because if I ever disrespected her growing up, my mother would slap me upside the head. She nods and ducks out of the office.

I stride over to my seat and sit, rubbing my temples to cure the ache that resides in my head. I could compare the pain to dehydration, and the only thing to quench my thirst is Charlie.

“Charlie, you are going to destroy me,” I mumble, staring at my desk which showcases two perfectly round butt cheek prints from where Charlie was sitting.

CHARLIE

“Time to wake up!” Jean hollers, dragging me from my deep sleep.

I pull the sea of blankets from my face, finding Jean yanking open the curtains to let in the blinding sun.

I groan and roll over.

“Wake up. Wake up!” she yells, grabbing the blanket and pulling it off my warm body. A cold breeze rushes up my legs, causing goose bumps. I curl into myself for warmth and scowl at Jean.

“Breakfast.” She points to the end table next to the bed. I follow her finger to a stack of pancakes and OJ. The smell of hot, buttery pancakes lights the wick to my appetite and my stomach growls.

“When you’re finished, you’re to meet Landon in his office. Here are some more of the clothes Gabe bought you, as well.” She points to a bunch of bags next to the bathroom door. My eyes widen at the shopping bags with designer names printed on the sides. I didn’t know they bought me a whole new wardrobe.

“Thank you, Jean,” I mutter, rolling over for the plate of food.

After I eat and shower, I start pulling clothes from bags. I find some black slacks and a white blouse and put them on along with some gray heels before leaving my room.

I look down the hall at Landon’s door and sigh heavily. I have to be strong today, build my wall of defense or Landon will cause me to self-destruct from the inside out. I close my eyes. Why? Why does he affect me so much? I barely know him, yet my heart and body throb for him like a lifeline. Like I’m a sinking ship, and he’s the only one to save me from anchoring myself into the depths of no return.

I head toward the stairs, finding an older man and Veronica standing at the bottom talking. The man has pepper-colored hair and is wearing black dress pants and a white button-up shirt.

I take a step on the stairs, and it catches their attention.

“This is the new girl,” Veronica informs sweetly, her tone surprising me. But then again, I’m guessing the man is her stepdad, so she’s probably kissing his ass for something she wants. I cock my head to the side, not really sure what it is she does here to begin with.

The man squints, and his mouth slightly opens as he takes me in. “Is it now?” he questions, his voice cracking with age. A shiver races up my spine from his tone of voice, and my heart picks up its pace, causing my head to spin. I freeze at my body’s reaction. Taking a large breath, trying to calm myself, I head down the stairs, mustering a smile at both of them.

“I’m Charlie.” I hold my hand out to shake his.

“Charlie, I’m Miller.” He accepts my hand and shakes it, his eyes still taking me in. My palm goes ice cold when he touches it, but I’m not sure if my reaction is from his touch or his voice.

My temples throb, making my vision sway. I feel like a little kid meeting the monster beneath her bed for the first time. I can’t breathe, can’t focus.  I take a deep breath, not sure why I’m reacting the way I am. I blink, trying to clear my thoughts before finding Miller looking right at me. His face is lined with wrinkles, and he has bags under his eyes. I tilt my head to the side, lost in the light-green orbs. His voice… it sounds familiar.

“There you are.” I slowly take my eyes from Miller to find Landon scowling at me, his hands in his suit pockets. He looks good, as usual. His dark hair is combed back, his toned body trying to rip through the material of his suit. Just by walking into the room, his body demands a powerful presence.

“This is the new girl, huh?” Miller asks, finally breaking his gaze with me for Landon.

“It is.” Landon nods.

“Miller, baby!” I look up the stairs and find a woman with dirty-blonde hair rushing down the steps. She’s wearing a white nightie and an untied champagne-colored robe.

She flies past me and wraps herself around Miller, the smell of her perfume causing me to gasp for air. She looks to be in her mid-thirties, and Miller looks to be in his sixties. The age gap is large and has me thinking she’s a gold digger. Not that I’m one to talk about being with men for money.

“You said you would be right back,” she pouts, trailing a manicured finger along his jawline. He looks down at the woman and gives a wrinkled smirk.

“I was just meeting our new girl. Tara, this is Charlie” He squints and cocks his head to the side, hitting me with that conflicted stare again.

“Oh, hello. I’m Tara,” she greets, her voice high-pitched.

“Hi.” I smile. My back breaks out in a nervous sweat, feeling Miller staring at me. I don’t need to see that he’s looking at me. I can just feel it.

“We have paperwork to do, Charlie,” Landon clips. I sigh in relief, actually thankful for that damn paperwork for once.

“Yes, well, I won’t keep you.” Miller gives a tight-lipped smile before heading past me with Tara close to his side. He glances over his shoulder, a look of confusion on his face as he and Tara make their way upward.

“Want to go for a swim, lover?” Tara asks him, bringing his attention back to her. She trails her hand along his neck and down the back of his shirt, revealing a few inches of skin. Tattooed skin.

“Charlie?” I hesitantly break my stare from Miller as he and Tara round the stairs to Landon who is looking at me with furrowed brows.

“I’m coming,” I mumble, looking back up the stairs to where Miller just left. Lost as to why my body races with dread when our eyes met.