Hart of Darkness Read online

  While I admired her to no end for wanting to protect me, we wouldn’t be in harm’s way again. From here on out, our lives would be normal. She had her job, and I had the shelter, and we weren’t chasing any more bad guys.

  As far as my family, they had to work out their own problems. When they did, including my old man, maybe we could be somewhat of a cohesive family. Until then, Maggie was my family and future. She was the one I would give all my time to, aside from the shelter.

  36

  Maggie

  Dillon threaded his fingers through mine as we stood on the grounds of Kensington High School.

  The crisp November air gave me a chill. More than two months had passed since I’d gotten out of the hospital. My shoulder and leg were on the mend, although I had a slight limp in my gait, but I barely had a scar on my face. Cory hadn’t broken through several layers like he had when I was fourteen.

  As for Cory, he’d been sentenced to twenty years in prison, and that made me sleep better at night. Miguel and Rick had received similar sentences, except Rick had cut a deal for early parole.

  Dillon’s shelter was thriving, and the girls that had been prisoners of Miguel’s were now back with their families, except Misty. She’d worked out an agreement with Dillon. She would live at the shelter while she went back to nursing school, and in exchange, she would help Norma with odds and ends and maybe even provide counseling.

  The trees swayed as the colorful leaves floated to the ground.

  “I can’t believe your mom lives in Ashford and teaches at the local high school,” Dillon said.

  “It’s a small world for sure.”

  The Maxwell family, whom I’d learned a great deal about during my recovery, lived in Ashford. The Maxwell brothers had attended this very high school where my mom worked.

  “Are you ready?” Dillon asked. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

  I was more than ready. I was healed. I was alive, and I was ready to hear why she’d abandoned me. I would’ve reached out to her sooner, but between the painkillers and the therapy, it hadn’t been a good time.

  The school had let out for the day, so only a handful of kids lingered on the grounds.

  A car rolled up, and Kross poked out his head. “Hey.”

  Dillon was going with Kross to check out a building that Kross was thinking of purchasing for his boxing school.

  I lifted up on my toes and kissed Dillon on the lips. “Go. I need to do this alone.”

  His hands cupped my face. “I’m only a phone call away.” Then his tongue was in my mouth, dancing and swirling. If he didn’t stop, we might have to find a closet in the school.

  He and I had been in bed more than anything, when I wasn’t writing. I was on medical leave from the paper and had loads of time to think and write. So I was penning my story, not Dillon’s or his family’s. His story wasn’t mine to tell anyway.

  After my experience of being shot, caged like an animal, and almost dying, I had a whole new view on life. Every time I recalled the kidnapping, shooting, and how I’d fought for my life, I couldn’t believe I was actually kissing Dillon.

  The Latin phrase he had inked on his chest, alis grave, nil, meant nothing is heavy to those who have wings. I’d had wings that day. I also had angels in Misty, Dillon, Ted, Grace, and everyone who had helped save me and take down Miguel, Cory, and Rick.

  Dillon broke the kiss. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” He skirted around Kross’s car and got in the passenger’s side.

  As the car sped away, I walked down the path toward the front door. When I’d called to set up a meeting, I had learned my mom was a guidance counselor at the local high school. I’d wanted to talk somewhere less personal than her house, for the first meeting anyway.

  A lady rose from the cement bench that was outside the main doors. Her blond hair fell to her shoulders, and her smile said she was the person I was looking for. “Maggie?”

  My pulse sang in my ears, and suddenly I wanted Dillon at my side to hold my hand.

  You’re an adult. You don’t need anyone holding your hand.

  Up until Dillon, I hadn’t thought so. But I liked having him as a lover and an equal partner. He wasn’t overprotective. He wasn’t possessive. He was Dillon—he had a big heart, a lot of love to give, and was the one man who only saw me when I entered a room.

  My chest rose. “Sophie. Right?”

  She eased down onto the bench then patted the spot next to her. “We can chat out here. It’s a beautiful fall day.”

  It didn’t matter to me. I didn’t plan to be there long anyway. Dillon and I were due to have dinner at Kross’s parents’ house.

  As I sat down, two girls emerged from the school. “Hi, Mrs. Flowers,” one of them said as they continued walking.

  I examined my mother from top to bottom. She was a head shorter than me. Aside from her blond hair, she had a lighter shade of green eyes than me. Her nose was small like mine, and she was a pretty lady. “Flowers? Is that your married name?”

  She fidgeted with her fingers and nodded.

  “Why did you abandon me?” I might as well get to the heart of why I was there. “Who and where is my father? Did you marry him?”

  She gave me a tentative smile. “I was fifteen when I found out I was pregnant, and I was scared to death. I had no father. My mother was a drug addict, and I couldn’t end up like her. She had me at sixteen. She did the best she could, but somewhere along the way, she cracked. She lost her job and fell into a deep depression and started using drugs.” She paused and swept her gaze over me.

  I felt compelled to say, “I’m listening.” I got the impression she thought I would run.

  “I kind of followed in her footsteps. I got in with the wrong crowd and the wrong boy. Before I knew it, I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. The boy I slept with wanted no part of me. I debated whether to have an abortion, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Then after you were born, life became difficult. I didn’t have money for food or clothes or diapers. Every day was a struggle. You deserved better.”

  The main door opened, and three more students came out, chatting and giggling. Both Sophie and I watched them until they faded from view.

  She sighed. “Every state has a safe-haven law, and so I decided that you would have a better life with a family who could take care of you.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. She definitely held an enormous amount of regret, which was evident in her tone. But to forgive or not to forgive. The question flittering through my mind was whether to tell her my life story and make her feel even worse.

  Her gaze was on my neck. I was wearing a scoop-neck blouse and no scarf. I’d come to the conclusion that I shouldn’t be ashamed of what had happened to me because it wasn’t my fault. Dillon helped me to come to terms with my scar. It also helped that he thought I was beautiful despite all my scars, and I had a couple more thanks to Miguel and Cory.

  I took hold of her hand. “Sophie, I’m not going to sit here and tell you how angry I was with you for abandoning me. That wouldn’t change what happened. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done in your shoes.” I thought back to how Cory had raped me. I could’ve gotten pregnant. Then I might’ve been in the same predicament she had been in with me. “But I’m here, and that means I want to get to know you.”

  She threw her arms around me and hugged me so darn tight, I couldn’t breathe. Then she sobbed. “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t help but cry either, and all those pent-up emotions I’d harbored for so long vanished. I hugged her back.

  We stayed in that embrace for several long seconds until she shuddered and let go. “You turned out to be such a strong and beautiful woman.”

  “Just like you,” I said as I dashed away the tears on my cheeks.

  “Let’s take a walk. I have something for you in my car.”

  Once we were at her modest SUV, she ducked into the back seat and emerged with a framed photo. “Before I gave you up,
I took a picture of you. I never forgot about you.” She handed me the picture.

  I eyed the photo of the chubby baby with light-blond hair, wrapped in a pink blanket. “Thank you,” was all I could say as I choked back more tears. I’d never taken pictures of myself or with friends or even with Ted. But I would make it my mission to make sure Dillon and I had lots of photos of us sprinkled around his house.

  He’d asked me to move in with him two weeks ago. Actually, he’d been taking care of me since I’d gotten out of the hospital.

  “When you got your life together, why didn’t you try and find me?” I asked.

  She gripped the edge of the car door. “I did. I started at the firehouse where I left you, but no one there knew of the incident. One fireman steered me to a retired man who had been working there, but when I contacted him, his wife informed me he’d died. I didn’t even have a name for you. So it was difficult to find you, especially when social services won’t divulge cases.”

  She had a point, and she wasn’t a detective like Ted, who could find details civilians couldn’t.

  “Do you have a family now?” I wasn’t sure how that would sit with me, but as I asked the question, I was cool, especially after hearing her reasons for leaving me at a firehouse.

  She closed her car door. “After you, I couldn’t have any more children. I have a husband, though. I saw you with your boyfriend when he dropped you off. Are you happy?”

  I smiled and got all giddy inside. “He’s a great guy, and he loves me, and I couldn’t be happier.”

  As if Dillon knew we were talking about him, he and Kross drove up and stopped behind Sophie’s SUV.

  Dillon climbed out. His hair was tousled as usual. I’d told him not to ever cut his hair. He rounded the car then waved to Kross as he sped away. Dillon tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, keeping his distance and giving me privacy.

  “Dillon,” I called.

  He sauntered over and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips. “The real estate gal had to cancel on Kross.”

  Sophie extended her hand. “Sophie Flowers.”

  “Dillon Hart. Nice to meet you, ma’am. Baby doll, we should get going.”

  “We’re having dinner with the Maxwells,” I said to Sophie.

  Dillon had mentioned that the Maxwells were well-known in Ashford.

  “Great family. Maybe we could meet for dinner next week. I can come to Boston.”

  I hugged her. “I would like that.”

  We said our goodbyes, and when Dillon and I were on the road, I started crying.

  He held my hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re happy tears. I never thought my life would turn out with a man I love to pieces, and me getting to know my mom.”

  One side of his mouth curled before he kissed the back of my hand. “You are my queen, Maggie. I love you.”

  I giggled. After he’d brought me home from the hospital, he had made me feel like a queen, and I’d told him so. Since then, not only did he refer to me as his queen, but he treated me like one too. The way he made love to me for hours, the way he played with my hair as we cuddled on the couch, watching some movie, and the way he looked at me and only me were more than I could ask for. And for that, our future was brighter than I’d ever thought possible.

  Dear Reader

  I hope you enjoyed Dillon’s book as much as I enjoyed writing his story. When I started planning this series, I had a very different type of family chemistry in mind over the Maxwell family. If you’ve read my Maxwell series then you know that from the very beginning the Maxwell family was a solid unit. But not every family is like the Maxwells.

  The Hart family is dysfunctional, and not that far from my own family growing up. My stepmom was an alcoholic. My half-brother had been in and out of jail, and I had issues with my stepmom where I wanted to run away many times.

  Despite the family issues, each brother has their own war going on within their life, and you’ll be able to read all about Denim and Duke in separate books, which are in the works.

  In addition, you might be curious on what Kelton has found that could help Denim’s case, and that answer will be revealed in Denim’s book for sure.

  You might also wonder what happened to Dillon’s father. His story will be part of the overarching arc of the series, and you’ll see him again in Denim and Duke’s stories.

  That’s it for now. When you have a moment, I would super appreciate a quick review. It doesn’t have to be long, but would love for you to share your excitement about Hart of Darkness.

  Until next time.

  Hugs

  Susan

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  Titles by S.B. Alexander

  To read samples and find out where to purchase all books visit: http://sbalexander.com/books

  The Maxwell Series:

  Dare to Kiss - Book 1

  Dare to Dream – Book 2

  Dare to Love – Book 3

  Dare to Dance - Book 4

  Dare to Live - Book 5

  Dare to Breathe - Book 6

  The Maxwell Series Boxed Set – Books 1-3

  Dare to Kiss Coloring Book Companion

  The Vampire SEAL Series:

  On the Edge of Humanity – Book 1

  On the Edge of Eternity – Book 2

  On the Edge of Destiny – Book 3

  On the Edge of Misery - Book 4

  On the Edge of Infinity - Book 5

  The Vampire SEAL Collection - Boxed Set

  A Stand Alone Novel

  Breaking Rules

  The Hart Series:

  Hart of Darkness

  Hart of Vengeance - Coming Soon

  Hart of Redemption - Coming Soon

  Dare to Kiss

  Chapter 1

  The ball left my hand and zigzagged on its way to home plate, missing Tyler Langley’s glove. I kicked the dirt in frustration as he yelled something back at me—what, I couldn’t say. The buzzing in my ears masked all sound around me. I usually got this imaginary bee in my head when I was upset or angry with myself or even when I was nervous. I didn’t know why it happened. My psychiatrist said it was a way for my body to protect me. It sounded like a bunch of crap, but what did I know about my brain?

  Tyler came running out to the mound, waving his catcher’s mitt at me. His mouth was moving, but the little bee zipping around in my head was still loud. When he reached the pitcher’s mound, he tipped up my chin with his gloved hand.

  Embarrassed at my performance, I looked away. I hated myself right now.

  “Look at me.”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s okay, Lacey. You’re just tired. You have both your fast pitch and curveball ready. The slider isn’t that important for tryouts. It’s only high school baseball.”

  My head snapped up, and I met his soft blue eyes that had helped to lessen the constant noise in my head. “Easy for you to say. This is important to me.” I pushed him away.

  What was I doing? I didn’t mean to be such a bitch. He’d been patient with me over these past few weeks, helping me practice. He’d given up some of his summer fun in between his football practice, and here I was giving him attitude.

  “I know it is, but you have two excellent pitches, and the coach is only requiring two for tryouts.” He enfolded my hand with his callused one.

  A small twinge of jealousy hit me. Things came easy for Tyler, it seemed. Whenever he’d thrown a few pitches to me to show me how the curveball looked, my mouth would always fall open at how perfectly he pitched. He’d played on the baseball team his first year in high school, but gave it up when the football coach asked him to concentrate on football. He’d agreed because he loved the game more than baseball, and it gave him better scholarship opportunities.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just tired.” I pushed the envy asi
de. It was stupid of me to feel it in the first place. My performance had nothing to do with Tyler’s talents. I was just extremely hard on myself. I strove for perfection. I had to make the team. Everything I’d wanted was riding on this year, my senior year, and my last chance to show the scouts at Arizona State University that I was worthy of a scholarship. They’d seen me play at my old school, Crestview High in California, and were so impressed that they sat down with me to discuss a potential offer to play for their school.

  They gave me two stipulations. One, I had to continue to improve my pitching skills, and two, keep up my grades. If I met these requirements I had a shot at not only a scholarship, but at being the first female to grace an all boys’ college baseball team—or at least ASU’s.

  “It’s getting late. Why don’t we call it quits? You need to rest your arm.” Tyler tapped my ball cap.

  I nodded. I did need my arm loose if I was going to continue to practice hard up until tryouts next week. I prayed I could regain my skills. I’d gone a whole year without picking up a baseball. My hands started to shake as I thought about Mom and my sister Julie.

  “Are you okay?” He wiped a tear off my cheek.

  “Yeah.” Not really.

  Almost a year after Mom and Julie’s deaths, I wasn’t sure I had the confidence to face a new life in a new school and a new home. Did Dad and I make the right decision to move clear across the country? My psychiatrist, Dr. Meyers, had recommended it. The memories and the pain had been too much for my dad, my brother Rob, and me. We weren’t healing. We weren’t even living. I’d abandoned my friends. My dad moped around, hiding in his home office. My brother Rob turned down his dream of playing for the LA Dodgers.