Twenty One
R I V E R
THE HOUSE IS COMPLETELY dark save the blaring light from the T.V. in front of me. I stand in front of it, watching the woman reporter drone on in a monotone voice. She’s wearing too much make-up.
I correct myself. Ryan always said I wore too much makeup.
She looks pretty. Beautiful.
“Police officials are still investigating the disappearance of Ryan Fitzgerald, a twenty-five- thyear-old local from North Carolina, who was reported missing on September 8. If anyone has seen or heard from him, please contact your local police station—"
Contact your local police station? Where do they think he’s run off to? Out of state? Why, he was only in an attic, my dear. Now, there’s nothing left of him to find. Not even if you go looking in pig shit.
A shrill ring snaps my gaze to my blaring cell phone, vibrating on the end table next to me. Julie.
I still haven’t spoken to her.
I ignore it and look back to the television. Ryan’s picture is displayed on the screen.
I pinch the skin on the inside of my wrist until I’m hissing in pain. Tears well in my eyes. I sniffle.
“I’ve been a mess, Julie,” I whimper. “I haven’t heard from him and I’m so scared.”
A tear spills over. I fight the urge to wipe it away.
“What if he’s hurting? Or in pain? And I’m not there to help him?!”
Tsk. Too dramatic. I try again.
“I miss him so much, and I just want him home,” I whisper brokenly, my eyes boring into the picture of Ryan on the screen. I sniffle, allowing a few more tears to trail down my pale cheeks.
“I know, Julie, I know. I love him, too. I love him, too…”
“I CAN’T DO THIS, I can’t do this, I can’t do this…”
“River, listen to me—”
“They’re camping outside of the fucking house, Mako,” I say shakily, my voice ready to fall off its foundation from the tremors. I run a hand through my hair, squeezing at the scalp until I feel sharp prickles of pain dancing across my nerve-endings.
This was not something I anticipated.
Reporters, paparazzi, vans and cameras, constantly in my fucking face every time I leave the house. Matt tried to report Ryan missing Monday morning, but they told him he had to wait up to 72 hours before he could make a missing person’s report. Thursday morning on the dot, he filed. It’s been almost two weeks of them searching for his body, and in that time, the media has blown the story up.
Ryan wasn’t a celebrity for fuck’s sake. But he’s the son of a notorious lawyer, who’s put away more criminals than the number of years he’s been alive. He might as well be a celebrity in our town.
Fuck.
Bilby brushes up against my legs, offering a sweet little meow. Sometimes I’m positive he can sense when I’m upset or agitated.
I plop down on the couch, settling my head in my hands. Bilby jumps up next to me and headbutts me. I remove one hand from my head to curl my fingers against the side of his mouth. He uses my fingers as a brush and rubs up against me repeatedly.
“Come to me tonight,” Mako demands tightly. I sigh, weary and drained. It’s a Tuesday night, and I have classes tomorrow. But I think I’m going to be skipping them for the foreseeable future, just as I have since Ryan went missing. I don’t think I can handle the stares from people who are wondering where my boyfriend is.
Ryan deserved every single thing that came his way. I don’t regret doing what I did. I don’t regret liberating myself from an abusive relationship that was surely going to fucking kill me one day.
I don’t regret standing up for myself, and I don’t regret getting revenge for all the bullshit I’ve gone through.
But the after effect is draining. I’m still a person of interest in Ryan’s murder as of right now, but they are considering other options. Mako has told his truth—the truth that will ultimately lead to Ryan’s murderer. Ryan figured out who the Ghost Killer was. While he didn’t get the chance to tell Mako who it was, I know for a fact Ryan told somebody.
I remember standing outside Ryan’s office, gearing myself up to ask permission to go to Amelia’s. The phone call I overheard. The utter excitement in his voice as he claims he figured something out. I hadn’t put much thought in it at the time, but now I know that he was talking to someone about the Ghost Killer.
I had relayed that memory to Mako already, which only solidified his story. They’re going through Ryan’s phone records to pin down who he talked to.
There’s also another theory they’re looking into, one that makes me a little nauseous. With Matt’s record of putting criminals away, it’s only logical they look into the fact that he has enemies. Which I’m sure he does. He’s put countless criminals away.
Furthermore, Matt isn’t the man I had believed he was, who’s to say he doesn’t have his own dealings in the black market? I’m sure the asshole is sitting with his head slumped, believing that there’s a possibility that his career has killed his own son.
“I don’t know, Mako…” I trail off. What if they follow me? Being caught going to Ryan’s brothers house in the middle of the night looks incredibly suspect. The supposed heartbroken girlfriend running off with the brother? Yeah, that doesn’t make me look fucking suspicious or anything.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Mako sighs. “I just hate the thought of you going through this alone.”
Mako and I have to tread very carefully for now. We can’t say what we really want to say over the phone. Mako doesn’t trust anyone not to hack my phone conversations. Highly illegal, but when has the government ever had morals?
“I appreciate that,” I say softly. It feels weird being nice to Mako. For so many months, I conditioned myself to hate him, convincing myself that Ryan’s hatred towards Mako was justified.
That there was a reason of some sort. Or simply because I pledged loyalty to someone who didn’t deserve it.
But Mako never gave up on me. This godsend of a man is helping me get away with murder.
Literally. He’s helping me cover up his own brother’s death because… well because Ryan was the fucking devil incarnate. He abused both of us.
And Mako is dealing with his own shit. Not only did he do those things for me, but he’s also facing the reality that his father is a rapist and how to navigate that. Through little snippets of conversation, he did decide to tell his mother the truth. I just don’t think he’s decided on how and when yet.
There’s just no way I can treat Mako badly anymore. Regardless if we get away with it or not, I owe him my life. He’s risking everything for me. His career, reputation, his life. Cops don’t last long in prison. Mako has the highest catch rate out of the entire department. His enemies would be waiting for him in prison, ready to exact their own version of revenge.
“Meet me at the library tonight,” I say. Meeting someone semi-public feels safer than going to his house. Or him coming here. I need to get out and away from this cold, sterile box. It’s a pretty box, but one that’s held nothing but haunting memories. One that I plan on moving out of as soon as possible.
I don’t have a whole lot in my savings, but I have enough to get my own place and restart my life.
If I get that privilege.
“I’ll be there.” His low answering reply sends shivers down my spine. The warm kind that travels in between my legs and settles there. Whatever has been building between Mako and I is indescribable. I don’t know where it’s going, but fuck if I can stop it. I don’t want to.
I want to make this merry-go-round go faster.
THIS LIBRARY IS A haven to me, my own ghost running down the aisles. A young, broken girl with big ambitions. I see myself inside every room, every nook and cranny, all the places I escaped to when I had nowhere else to go. Camilla, looking after me, taking care of me, loving me.
My god, I miss her. Sometimes I forget just how much I miss her until I walk into this building and see her ghost alongside mine.
“It’s creepy in here.” The deep voice behind me makes me jump, a high-pitched squeal escaping my throat. Immediately, I’m embarrassed. Really fucking embarrassed. I’ve never made a noise like that in my life—and I’ve been scared my entire life. “Sorry,” Mako whispers, an impish grin sliding
across his gorgeous face.
It’s nightfall, which means it’s dark in here. Our only light source is the moon shining through the windows and the soft light from my phone in my hand. Mako’s green eyes are shadowed, darkening his eyes to a deep moss green.
My hand is on my chest, holding in my racing heart, as my wide eyes stayed locked on his. I can only imagine how I look to him right now.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, as if he read my mind. I hate when he does that. I hate that he knows what I’m thinking.
That word—beautiful—sends ice down my back and fire in my veins all in one breath. Mako calling me beautiful is debilitating. I want to hate it and cherish it.
“I hate that word,” I say back, straightening myself into a somewhat normal position a human being should be in.
“Why?” he asks, his voice still low and quiet. Like if we talk any louder, we’ll be caught by the snarling librarian that demands silence at all times. I wish there was one here. Being bad with Mako sounds like so much fun.
“I’ve heard it all my life from the wrong people,” I admit. A cold rage settles in his eyes, but he doesn’t unleash it. So calm and collected. So unlike his brother.
“Does it feel better when you hear it coming from the right person?” he questions, his body still.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. I take a small step towards him. Shortening the little bit of distance between us feels like inching your hand towards a tiger’s mouth. At any moment, it’s going to snap.
“Say it again.”
Mako doesn’t react immediately. Instead, he roves his half-lidded eyes over me. The icy fire in his eyes slowly swirling into liquid heat. My heart kickstarts once again, racing nearly as hard as it did when he scared me. I hold my breath as my anticipation for one little word builds, electricity dancing through the air, setting the dust motes aflame.
“You’re beautiful,” he says again. My breath releases and I close my eyes, relishing the word coming from his mouth. It sounds deliciously sinful when he says it. It sounds like something I can get used to. Only when it’s coming from his mouth with the low pitch of his deep voice.
I keep my eyes closed, even as I confess, “I liked that.”
A gasp nearly escapes when I feel his body press into mine, his front molding to my back. His warm breath stirs the fine hairs around my ears. His hand slides in my hair, setting fire to my skin.
Goosebumps prickle my entire body, causing me to shiver in his hold. His fingers whisper across my flesh as he slowly brushes my hair to drape across my shoulder. Another shiver races down my spine from the tickling sensation he leaves in his wake.
"Do you know what love looks like?" he asks softly. I close my eyes and release a deep sigh.
"Yes," I whisper.
"What does it look like?"
"I've seen love in the eyes of a broken woman every time she had drugs in front of her. I've seen it in the eyes of a young boy when he took his first drink of alcohol to escape his shitty life. I've seen it in a grown man exploring the body of a little girl for the first time." I suck in a sharp breath. "I've seen that in many different eyes."
A low growl rumbles from Mako's chest, the vibrations travelling across my back. I ignore it.
"The face of love is everchanging, but yet it looks the same every time."
"That's not the face of love, that's the art of escape," he answers lowly.
I don’t respond. I don’t know how to.
“Take me to the secret place,” he demands gently. Finally, I open my eyes.
I nod my head once, slowly extract myself from his hand and lead the way. It feels like the devil is nipping at my heels. The type of devil you should stay away from but only want to get closer to.
Willpower and force are the only two things keeping me from running to the room. From discovering exactly what Mako plans on doing once we get there. I’m terrified to find out, but I’m nearly shaking with the need to know.
I lift the secret shelf, and the room is presented to me. My home away from hell. Where I spent the majority of time away from Shallow Hill. I walk into the room, my eyes finding every detail of this room except the one I should be looking at.
Mako’s demanding presence is right behind me, and when the door shuts, it feels like my fate has been sealed. I don’t know what it is yet, but I think I’m going to like it.
I’m nervous. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt this type of anxiousness before. This isn’t the type of feeling I got when Billy came around. Or when a man would sneak into my room at night. Or even when I would make Ryan angry.
This is the jittery nervous you get when you’re in a room alone with your crush. My confidence was something I always held onto tightly. It was my armor and it prevented me from feeling anything but sure of myself when in the same room with a man I wanted.
That confidence is lingering right outside my reach. Still there, but impossible to grasp onto right now.
“Do you remember when we first met?” Mako asks, breaking the silence.
“Of course. When I met your parents,” I answer, my voice deceptively smooth.
Mako slowly shakes his head. “That’s not the first time we’ve met, River.”
His words silence the nerves. My brow creases with confusion as I try to recall meeting Mako before that.
“I… I don’t remember,” I say. An almost despondent smile slides on his face. How could we have met before Ryan? How could I not remember him? Mako has a face you don’t forget.
“You were drinking, so I can’t say I’m surprised.” Weariness replaces the confusion. I drank a lot my freshman and sophomore year of college. It was only after Ryan and I started getting serious that I stopped. He said it made him look bad having a sloppy girlfriend.
“What’d I do?” I ask hesitantly. He chuckles.
“You changed my life, is what you did.” The V between my brow deepens as I frown. I don’t know what he could possibly mean by that.
“You punched a man in the nose for touching you in a way you didn’t like. He was getting ready to hit you, and I intervened.”
My eyes widen as the memory comes rushing back, slamming through my brain like a tidal wave.
That was Mako. The man who stopped the drunk asshole for bitch slapping me after I broke his nose.
I walked away from him without saying thank you, even though I was tempted to show my thanks in more nefarious ways.
“Holy shit,” I gasp. “I do remember that. I hadn’t… I don’t know why I didn’t realize that was you.”
He shrugs a shoulder, taking a step towards me. The anticipation from earlier starts to creep back in as the temperature in the room begins to rise.
“You also didn’t realize it was me that danced with you later that night,” he says—calmly—as if he didn’t just unload a huge fucking bomb on me.
“That was you?” I ask incredulously, my body rearing back in shock. Mako has been my mystery
man this entire time? The man that would haunt the back corner of my brain, only to be let out in rare, weak moments.
A satisfied smirk crooks the corner of his lips.
“That was me,” he confirms. He’s staring at me now as if he’s finally caught me. It’s sexy as hell, and my body responds in kind. My pussy grows wet, beginning to pulsate as I inhale the sinful look Mako is giving me now.
As I take in the fact that Mako is who I should’ve been with all along. The fact that I was so close to having him is almost devastating. What would’ve happened if I had just turned around? If I had discovered the man making me feel things no man has ever made me feel. What would’ve happened if Amelia didn’t get sick that night, pulling me away from Mako’s arms? I would’ve let him take me home that night. I would’ve let him ravage my body and soul until the sun peaked through the morning clouds. And I would’ve given him my number and asked for seconds. Thirds, fourths, fifths and so on until I had him forever.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask with bewilderment.
“Because you were firmly under my brother’s spell. Telling you that wouldn’t have changed anything. And to be honest, I didn’t want that memory tainted. You hated me up until recently. If I had told you then, you would’ve spit it back in my face. I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”
Shame has me dropping my eyes to my feet. He’s right. And I hate that he is.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I release a harsh breath. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, Mako. You were incredibly kind to me, and I threw everything back in your face. I treated you horribly, fuck, I even slapped you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m just… sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says, taking another step towards me. I eye the distance, greedily wanting it to be completely erased. “That was what made me fall in love with you, River.”
Time stills. His words don’t register right away. My mouth falls open and my eyes snap to his.
He forges on before I can even stutter out a response.
“I don’t want you to say it back. But it’s the truth. You’re so strong, River. You’re fierce and independent. And despite that fact that someone was actively kicking you down, you kept getting back up on your feet. I admired you for that. It pissed me off too, sure. But fuck, did it make me fall in love with you.”
Hot tears burn my eyes, lining the bottom of my lids. Waves of emotion storm through me, so many I don’t even know how to pick apart what I’m feeling. Shock, absolutely. But anything else I can’t decide. Am I happy? Excited? Sad? I don’t know.
What I do know is that everything I felt before Mako was a lie. Falling in love with Mako feels like stepping into a fire with his hand clasped firmly in mine. It burns, but I’m not alone.
“Come here, Mako.”
