Clarity

by Nicole Dykes

  “So, tell me about this rose.”

  “From Beauty and the Beast.”

  “I know that, but I’ve still never seen it. What’s the role of this rose?”

  I smile to myself. “He was once a handsome prince who had a curse put on him to make him this beastly creature. Unlovable. But he had to make someone fall in love with him before the last rose petal fell.”

  “Did he?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  His mouth is still on mine, and I crave him, every single part of him. “And then what?”

  “Then he turned back into the handsome prince, but you know what I think, Rhys?”

  He flips so my body is safely tucked under his as he looks down at me, and I slide my hand over his hard stomach. “What?”

  “I think he was always loveable. Always that man.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek, and then the other. “She just had to remind him.”

  His lips press to mine softly. “Sounds like a lucky bastard.”

  I grin up at him and cup the back of his neck, keeping him close to me. “So was she.”

  Our love story wasn’t easy. It doesn’t end here. There will still be struggles, but as far as I'm concerned, as long as I have Rhys by my side, we will live happily ever after.

  THE END

  Bonus Chapter

  Rhys

  Six months later . . .

  “Hey boss . . .” Christian peeks his head into the private room I’m working in, careful to keep his eyes only on me, being professional as I demand. The chick requested a private room, wanting a tattoo of her lover’s name under the belt.

  “What’s up.” I look up and see his face is pale. “What’s wrong?” I stand up, placing my tattoo gun on the tray, walking to him.

  He keeps his voice low. “Mya’s here.”

  I quirk an eyebrow in surprise. “Mya? Why?”

  He shrugs. “She didn’t say. She’s looking for you though, and it can’t be good.”

  A cold, bad feeling runs over me as I tell the customer I’ll be right back. She nods an okay and continues flipping through her phone as I walk out front and immediately see Mya. She’s older now, more grown up than the last time I saw her, and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

  She’s dressed in all black, her brown eyes sparkling, but I see the deep-seated pain in them. The pain that was always there even at nine-years-old, when I first met her. I was twelve, and we wound up in the same temporary foster home. Her baby brother and her. Now her black, curly hair is pulled up into a loose ponytail, and her black dress shows off her new figure, but to me she’s a kid. She’s definitely grown into a beautiful woman.

  She’s Charity’s age, and I kept an eye on them both until I left. Left Charity and Christian in that house. Left Mya and her little brother in the shitty neighborhood we all grew up in. Left Sean, Logan, and Quinn, trying like hell to escape from it all, but now everything has come full circle.

  And I need to know why she’s here, even if I don’t want to hear it.

  “Mya,” I breathe.

  She looks me up and down, and I can tell she’s tired. From lack of sleep or just life, I'm not sure. Probably both. “Rhys. You grew up.”

  I nod. “You too.”

  She bites her bottom lip and looks around, her eyes taking in everything, and I grow apprehensive every second that ticks by.

  “Are you okay?” It’s a question I already know the answer to. If she were okay, she wouldn’t be here. You don’t track down your past when you’re okay.

  She ignores the question, her eyes still sweeping throughout my shop. “It looks like you’re doing well, Rhys.”

  I fiddle with the wedding ring on my left finger as I look around the shop that’s fully finished out and thriving. I’m probably going to have to give in soon and hire a tattoo artist or two to keep up. “Yes. How did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t hard.” Her eyes narrow on mine. “I had Sean’s number. He told me where to find you.”

  I give a clipped nod, not surprised. Sean and Quinn both watched out for Charity and Mya also. Really, there’s a code with street kids like us. We look out for our own. “What’s going on?”

  She looks away, and I see the tears forming in her eyes and feel like I might puke.

  “Mya,” I prod, needing an answer.

  Her brown eyes meet mine. “I came straight from the funeral . . . Rhys . . .” Her voice is strangled, and all I see is that scared little girl she was all those years ago. She held her head high, but she had big, fat tears in her eyes when the social worker dropped her and her little brother off. She wanted to be brave for him, just a baby herself at the time, but she still knew how much he needed her, how worthless their junkie mom was.

  “Who died?” I ask.

  Her bottom lip quivers, and she barely croaks out the answer. “Trey.”

  No. No. No. I walk toward her, my stomach clenching. Trey. Her little brother. No. I would have bet anything it was her junkie mother who checked out, but her brother? Her fucking brother. “Trey?” I shake my head. “He’s what? Eleven?”

  She holds back tears as she nods her head once. “He was. And it’s all my fault, Rhys.”

  I pull her into my arms, holding her body to mine and comforting her like the little sister she is to me.

  Eleven.

  He was eleven-years-old, and now he’s dead.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe.

  Because I left them behind.

  Note From the author

  Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed Blair and Rhys! Their story certainly meant a lot to me! I take this subject extremely seriously. I want all children to be safe and cherished.

  Thank you to everyone that made this book possible! Ari, Emma, Elle, Jeanna, Dena, Elizabeth, Veronique and Wildfire Promotions! You all mean the world to me!

  Thank you to all the bloggers, Bookstagrammers, readers and especially the Novelties!

  And thanks to my baby girls and the love of my life. Thanks to them for putting up with my sleep deprived cranky self!

  If you or anyone you know is suffering from abuse, please get help. The shame should lie only with the abuser and never with the victim. Reach out because I swear to you, someone cares. I care.

  Love you all!

  Nicole