Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Alistair

What in God’s name have I done?

Acid boils in my stomach, pain jabbing the backs of my eyes. The world is lacking in all sound as I turn in several directions, searching for Shelby. There is no sign of her. She has vanished into the landscape, taking all of the color and sound along with her. My breaths are loud in my ears, dizziness rising up and causing me to pitch sideways, thanks to memories of her stricken expression.

What did I do?

Jesus, how could I say those things to her?

She was sent to me as a sacrifice. A virgin offering. It brought her into my life, yes, but she never should have been put in that position. As far as she knew, I was an evil bastard before we met. What if I’d been the kind of man who hurts women? The fact that she was put in potential danger is unacceptable. She’s eighteen, for godsakes. Her family is supposed to protect her, not use her for their own advantage.

And I…I blamed her.

Lashed out in anger and said truly mean things that I didn’t mean in an attempt to disguise my own pain.

Damn me. I called her a liar, an opportunist. I pushed her away.

Now I’m going to pay for it, aren’t I?

I’ve hurt the sweetest, gentlest girl in the world. The girl who loved me and fought to get through to me, even when I was a bitter shell of a human.

No. No, please. I can’t have lost her.

A hole forms in my stomach and grows rapidly larger as I stumble to the limousine and brace my hands on the roof, trying to think. My driver stands a few feet away, calling my name, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from the inside of a tunnel. Freezing cold sweat beads on my face and rolls downward, soaking into my collar. What if she’s in danger? What if I find her, beg her forgiveness, but the hurt I inflicted is too great for her to love me anymore?

My knees almost give way, my mouth going bone dry.

Focus.

Focus.

I have to find her.

I’m burning so hot with grief that it takes me a moment to realize where we are. I own several of the high rises on this street. Does Shelby live in one of these? No. No, thinking back to the conversation, didn’t she say I postponed the eviction of her family? I’ve only done that once in my career in real estate.

“Carter Avenue,” I bark at my driver, throwing myself into the back seat. “The tenements.”

As soon as the vehicle starts moving, I call the building manager and demand the details of Shelby’s family. Who are they? What ages? How many of them? What is the apartment number? And as I find out more about the Bishops, the lesson Shelby taught me becomes painfully obvious.

I was going to throw these people out on the street without knowing a single thing about them. I could have made my future wife homeless and never batted an eyelash about it. These tenants of mine are people. People who make huge mistakes, sure, but if Shelby loves them, they can’t be all bad. As a fellow human being, I owe them a chance. I’ve owed a lot of people a chance they never got.

My head falls back against the seat, eyes gritty and raw.

And I start to pray.

Please God, if you let me have her back, I won’t forget the lessons she taught me. I’ll be a better person. I’ll be more like her. Please.

When I lift my head again, we are turning down Carter Avenue and I see the block through fresh eyes. It’s not just a low-rent neighborhood, it’s the place where Shelby lives. Is this where I will find her?

Frantically, I search the street for some sign of her, hoping like hell she ran home instead of going somewhere I’ll never pinpoint. I need to hold her in my arms so badly, they’re shaking, an apology jammed in my throat.

My driver pulls over and I waste no time getting out, marching straight into the building where Shelby lives and scaling the stairs to her apartment. Just knowing she walks these halls makes me miss her so much, I’m all but hunched over by the time I bang on the door.

A woman answers, looking terrified.

“Oh, Lord, is the eviction happening now? We weren’t notified—”

“No.” I brace a hand on the doorjamb. “You’re not being evicted. You’re never paying me rent again. Just help me find your daughter.”

The color drains from her face. “Is she lost? Last time I spoke to her, she was leaving for Paris. With you. She said…”

“What?”

Shelby’s mother only shakes her head, shame dancing across her features.

“I know about the plan to trade leniency for her virginity. She told me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I regretted my decision as soon as she left, but it was too late. I should never have sent her to do that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” When tears fill her eyes, I soften my harsh tone and it’s all Shelby’s influence. She’s turned me human, hasn’t she? “But it brought her into my life,” I say gruffly, my heart squeezing. “I could never be angry about that. She’s my angel. She’s everything to me.”

The woman nods, as if she knows exactly how special her daughter is. “When she called me to tell me about Paris, she told me the plan was off. That she’d given herself to you freely because…she loves you.”

A pitiful sound leaves me and I nearly rip off the doorjamb. The plan was off. She’d taken her one bargaining tool and given it to me out of trust, affection, and I turned on her at the first opportunity. God, I don’t deserve her, do I? “I love her, too. I love her so much it hurts. But we argued and…and I just need your help bringing her back to me. Please. Where would she go?”

Shelby’s mother pushes the door open wider and allows me inside, my misery multiplying when I see they’ve already packed boxes, probably just in case I threw them out on the streets. Pictures of Shelby at all stages of her life remain on the wall, however, shooting my heart up into my mouth.

We walk into a room at the back of the three-bedroom apartment and the woman points to a small twin bed in the corner of the room, a shelf built into the headboard, packed with books. Simple and small. Unworthy of my angel. I’ve never been so determined to lay the world at her feet.

“I doubt there is anything in here that will tell us where she’s gone,” says her mother. “There might be a clue in her diary, but it’s locked.”

I look over to find the woman turning a small book over in her hand—and I take it. Hesitating only a second before bashing the lock against the headboard and cracking the diary wide open. “Once a devil, always a devil,” I mutter, letting the diary flip open to a page near the middle and…I see my name.

Alistair wore the navy-blue suit today. A red tie. He read the reports from our building manager right there on the sidewalk this time. And he looked so angry, so irritable, but I only see the loneliness underneath. He needs a friend. Sometimes I even dream of being his friend. Is that silly? There must be more to the landlord than meets the eye or my heart wouldn’t pound every time he visits…

Pulse racing,I flip to another page.

I touched myself today and thought of Alistair. Everyone else went to the movies, but I stayed home. I touched my nipples and pretended it was him playing with me. I had to squeeze my thighs together to stop the ache and it wouldn’t go away for the longest time. Maybe it never goes away…

When my cockstarts to thicken, I clear my throat and move on. Reluctantly. But I’ll be reading that particular page again when Shelby’s mother isn’t present, that’s for goddamn sure. And…I’m in disbelief. Stunned. How long has my sweet girl been fascinated by me? Even…cared about me.

The dates in this diary go back a year. More.

My chest tightens to the point that I can barely draw a breath. The revelations in these pages are further pieces of proof that her heart was in the right place all along. The fact that I called her a liar and accused her of trying to use me…I deserve to die for saying that shit to someone so pure. I don’t deserve her back at all, this angel who loved me from afar while I went around hating the world.

God, I miss her so much.

With a weight pressing down on my lungs, I turn to the most recent entry.

The landlord came today. Alistair. He’s evicting us. My mother has asked me to seduce him in exchange for our debt being forgiven. I’m supposed to give him my body, but I already have. He’s owned it for a long time. I might not understand the way he makes me feel in my breasts and inside my panties, but he’s the only one who causes those tingling sensations, every time I watch him from across the street…

“Across the street?”I say urgently, lifting my head and looking out the window. “What’s across the street?”

“Her favorite climbing tree…”

I’m already running from the room, the apartment, hurtling down the stairs with her diary still clutched in my hand.

“Shelby,” I shout, my voice as ravaged as my chest.

Several people come out of the buildings to see the commotion, cowering in fear when they see it’s me, making an unscheduled visit. I swallow hard at their reaction, vowing to be better for Shelby. Vowing to be the man she believed me to be when I didn’t know I was capable of it.

When I see her feet dangling from the tree, relief like I’ve never known courses through me. But it leaves me in a rush when her tear-stained face comes into view. It hollows me out where I stand.

“Shelby. I’m so sorry.” My throat is closed up so tightly, I can barely get the words out. “Everything you taught me, I ruined in a minute. You made my world so beautiful and I turned it ugly again. Everything I said was wrong. I was wrong.”

She says nothing, moisture spilling down her cheeks. Slaying me.

I go down on my knees, vaguely aware of the gasps carrying up and down the block. “Give me another chance, angel.” And she does look like an ethereal being in that moment, with sunlight pouring through the branches and illuminating her from behind. “What do you want? Family dinners? Block parties? I’ll run for fucking mayor if it makes you believe in me again. Makes you believe how much I’ve changed for you. Just don’t leave me. God, please, don’t leave me now.”

My head is bowed, so I don’t realize she’s climbed down from the tree until she’s kneeling in front of me, too. “Is that my diary?” she whispers.

It takes all of my willpower not to wrap her in a bear hug, but I don’t know if she’s forgiven me or not. “Yes.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “Did you read it?”

“A few pages.” My tone is hoarse. “Enough to know you believed in me before we even met. Christ, baby. I don’t deserve that kind of confidence. Or your love. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend my life trying to be worthy. I’ll do everything in my power to be the man you see inside.”

She lays a hand against my cheek and I break, falling against her, gathering her up into my lap right there on the sidewalk, exhaling roughly into her neck. “You already are,” she whispers. “I love you. Every version. Start to finish.”

Her words rob me of fear and tension, loosening my muscles in a snap, and then my mouth is on hers, kissing her with every ounce of feeling inside of me. “Thank God,” I rasp against her lips. “I love you so much, Shelby.”

And on the drive home, while bucking inside of her, I place my mouth on top of her ear and list all the ways I plan to make her happy…and I do. But only a fraction as happy as my angel makes me just by existing.