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No?
“It’s more than that,” she said softly, her face still tipped down as she continued to explore the length. When she finally got to the end, she said, “I thought it was a pendant, but it’s not.”
“Not really. It’s a bloodstone.”
“Is there a meaning behind that type of stone?” she asked.
“Supposed to give me strength, protection and courage.”
She lifted her face and her eyes locked with his. “Do you need it?”
“We all need it.”
“How long have you had this?”
Since the day his mother died. He had grabbed it from her bedroom before he’d been taken away and it was all he had left of her besides his memories. Just like his Zippo was all he had left of his father. He had panicked when he thought he lost it, but thank fuck he hadn’t.
However, if he lost the necklace he would go into a damn tailspin. Because of that, he had to make sure that never happened.
He normally never shared the story behind the necklace. For some reason, he wanted to share it with Shay. Out of anyone, she might understand why it was important to him since she had lost her father unexpectedly, too.
“It was a rosary my grandmother had passed on to my mother. My grandparents were strict Catholics. Because of how strict and overbearingly fuckin’ religious they were, my mother left the church the moment she left their house. From as far back as I can remember, my mother had never been a religious woman or went to church. Her parents actually shut her out of their life when she refused to baptize me. They even threatened to take me and get it done against her will.”
“Holy smokes,” she whispered.
“Yeah, that caused a break between them.”
“I’m assuming you’re not religious, either.”
“Fuck no. Anyway, hooked up with some hippie-like artist when I was… young. She called herself boho, whatever the fuck that meant.” She had taken his ass in for a short time after he escaped his foster home and before he landed in Manning Grove. She had given him a sexual education he’d never forget.
Peace, love and sexual awakening.
Of fucking course, he’d lied about his age to her, too. If she’d found out he was only sixteen and not eighteen, he would most likely have found himself homeless or sent back to the foster home he escaped.
“She was this self-proclaimed free-spirit and was into gems and stones and all that spiritual mumbo-jumbo. When she mentioned about the power of the bloodstone, I knew that’s what I needed to replace the cross. She did that, added some other pieces to make it more of a unique piece than a rosary and I’ve worn it ever since.”
“Strength, protection and courage,” she murmured, running her thumb back and forth over the bloodstone amulet shaped like a long tooth.
He needed all of that to find his mother’s killer. Hell, even now he needed it to wake up every damn day.
“It’s a piece of your mother.”
“Yeah.”
“If I’d have known that’s what that stone helped with, I would’ve worn one around my neck when I was a teenager. Do you think it works?”
Ozzy shrugged. He didn’t know if it helped or not. “Don’t get all that woo-woo shit, but figured it’d help me more than a cross.” Especially with what he had been planning to do at the time. If there was a god, he doubted that god would approve of Ozzy’s “eye for an eye” revenge.
Or maybe he or she would.
Shay carried the beaded necklace over to him. “You’re still naked.”
Yeah, he was. And the more the woman fingered his necklace, the harder he got.
She lifted it in her hands and he dipped his head enough so she could place it around his neck. Once she did, she adjusted the curved, colorful gemstone so it was hanging where it should. “Now you’re not.”
Her warm fingers pressed to his gut in the space between the amulet and his erection. She turned dark brown eyes up to his. “You loved your mother a lot.”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
So was he. That night changed his life and took him on a path he never expected.
He grabbed the hand she had planted on his stomach and lifted it to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles.
She gave him a smile. A smile he caused and now belonged to him. He was claiming it.
He needed to get her upstairs, fed and near his supply of wraps because he was too tempted to rip off her shorts and just say “fuck the risk.”
“Bring whatever you need to get your work done. Gonna check with whoever’s in the office to see if your room’s free for another night.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Will figure somethin’ out.” That was a lie because nothing needed to be figured out. She’d be in his bed tonight and she wouldn’t need her room. But by keeping her room, she might not feel pressured.
