AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"It's not luck. It's hard work. You're a very special young lady," he says with a smile.
All the tears inside me suddenly erupt even though I'm shaking my head in defiance against them. They make no sense. And I don't have time for them. Covering my face with my palms, I sob into them for no reason at all. Carter is in front of me now, wrapping his arms around my head and shoulders. Feeling as though I am being comforted by my dad, I lower my hands and lean into him without reservation.
"I don't know why I'm crying," I admit. "This is so embarrassing."
"You're pregnant and you have been dancing since 8:00 a.m. Go easy on yourself."
Breathing in strength, I break our embrace. "I'm sorry. I'm a silly girl."
He tilts my chin with his finger. "You listen to me. There is nothing silly about crying."
Collecting myself, I take a deep breath. "I love my life. I love Max. I love our blob."
He nods. "I know you do."
"I'm not unhappy."
"You have already said that."
My eyes bounce around my studio. "It just all happened so fast."
"Life does that sometimes. Would you change anything if you could?"
The late nights alone in bed.
The bloodied shirts.
Bruises that can't be explained.
Mafioso.
But then I think about dark-brown hair, conflicted grey-blue eyes, and big warm hands. I think about the way my heart flutters when he's nearby. When I can feel him tracking me around a room. I think about how vulnerable he can be when he allows himself to seek comfort in my arms. Sighing, I admit, "If changing something meant not having Max, then no."
His smile widens. "That's good to hear."
I crane my neck to stare straight at Carter, feeling such comfort even though he's practically a stranger. And I see past his scars. They don't shock me anymore. I stare at them, waves upon waves of craters and valleys. "Tell me something about yourself. We spend nearly every second together and I know nothing about you."
"My story isn't a happy one," he states, clasping his hands in front of him.
"How did you get your scars?" I whisper, the question just tumbling out.
He smiles at me, but it doesn't meet his eyes. "In a fire."
That makes sense; his face does look like it's melted. "What happened?"
When his lips form a thin line, I wish I never asked. Shaking my head, I start to say, 'Forget I asked', but then he begins to talk. . .
"When I was your age, I was a smoke parachuter. Many years ago, before you were even born, there was a huge fire in the District. It cut through half the city. When I made the drop, I miscalculated it and went down into the inferno."
I gasp. "Oh my God. . ." Filled with instant pride, I smile at him in awe. "You're a real-life hero. . . I always thought-" I clear my throat. "Sorry, Ipresumedit had something to do with, ya know, working for Max."
He moves over to the kitchen, sitting back down on the stool. "Most of the people in the neighbourhood lost something or someone over those months. As a community, we were on fire. And it was arson that started it."
I can't believe I didn't know about this. "Did they catch him?"
"They did." He nods once. "He got ten years but was out on parole after four."
My ears burn. "Four!"
