Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (40 page)

“This world,
my
world, isn’t safe for your sister. That kid, Colt, won’t be able to protect her if someone decides they want something from her. And I can’t always be around to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Now I get it.

“So what, I’m supposed to just keep her away…from you, from him?” I ask. So many emotions fly through me as I think about Ellie becoming a part of Tris and Parker’s world. I’m scared, but I’m also pissed! What the hell was she thinking taking them on as friends? And dating a drug dealer, what the fuck is wrong with my little sister?

“You care about your sister. I can tell you’d do anything to keep her safe. You’re her brother, and you want to protect her. So get her out of this life before she’s so deep into it that she can’t get herself out anymore. Ok?”

I see sadness in his eyes and it’s actually pretty unsettling. Parker Michelson has feelings. He’s going out of his way to be nice to me because he wants to protect Ellie. I don’t even know what to think right now.

“I’ll try,” I say finally, knowing how stubborn Ellie can be. She won’t stand for being told what to do, especially by her brother.

“Good,” he says, leaving the conversation at that. He takes off in the same direction as the rest of his friends. Once he’s out of sight, I turn to Kelsie with a look that’s probably a cross between total confusion and complete uneasiness. And although I know she didn’t hear a word that he said to me, she knows that whatever it was knocked me off my feet and left me completely unsettled.

Skylar

As I’m getting myself ready for bed Sunday night, my phone beeps from across the room letting me know I’ve received a text. It’s almost midnight so all I’m expecting is a quick goodnight from Spencer. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see it’s from Parker instead.

Parker:
Hey you :)

I smile. I love that this is how we always greet each other now. Like it’s our thing. Only ours.

Me:
Hey you <3

Parker:
Are you still up?

Me:
Yep. Why?

Parker:
I’m outside. Feel like getting outta there?

I push the curtains covering my window aside and peer down into the parking lot. He’s parked in front of the building entrance and is leaning against his car. He looks up at my window, sees me peeking, and motions for me to come downstairs.

Me:
LOL It’s midnight! I’m not really dressed to go out anywhere.

Parker:
You always look beautiful. We won’t be out in public anyway. But you might want to bring a change of clothes.

A change of clothes? I can’t help but giggle out loud. Oh, the effect he has on me is almost nauseating but I love every second of it!

Me:
Am I sleeping out?

Parker:
I was hoping so ;)

Me:
I’ll pack up a few things. Be down in a sec.

I throw my cell phone into the shoulder bag I have lying on the floor next to my bed, and then walk over to my dresser for a change of clothes. I grab the first shirt and jeans I find then throw in a pair of socks followed by some black cotton underwear. I hesitate when I see a sexy pink lace bra and panty set sitting at the bottom of my underwear drawer under the cotton ones, and I wonder if I should put them on just in case this overnight stay turns into something more than just sleeping.

I eventually decide that I better put them on because you just never know. He said he wanted to wait till we were sober and I don’t know about him, but tonight, I’m sober. So, I change into the sexy set and then proceed to cover it with the raggedy sweats and old tank top I had on to begin with. I grab my pink hoodie from the end of the bed and throw it over the tank top, zipping it right up to my neck and putting the hood up over my hair.

Makeup bag, can’t forget that. I go to the bathroom, grab my toothbrush, hairbrush, all the makeup I have lying around, and shove it all into my makeup bag.

As I’m heading for the door, I see that Cecelia is sitting at the kitchen table playing poker on my laptop and smoking a cigarette.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” she asks, looking up from the monitor as I’m pulling my sneakers on.

“Going out with Parker,” I say.

She looks at the time on the microwave and then back at me. “It’s midnight, Skylar.”

She would choose this very moment to finally decide to be a real parent. I sigh loudly. “So?” I say, challenging her.

“You’re staying out the whole night?” she asks looking at my bag full of stuff.

I nod. “Just me and Parker,” I say with a grin.

“Where is he?” she asks, butting out her cigarette and getting up from the table.

Is she being serious? Never once has she cared or shown an interest in whether I was home or not in my entire life, and the one time I really want to go, she’s being a total mom about it.

She opens the patio door and steps out onto the balcony. “Where are you taking Sky, Parker?” she says to him in a tone that sounds incredibly motherly. She peers over the railing to look at him.

He looks up, startled, obviously surprised to see her home. “Hey Cecelia,” he says sheepishly.

“Where are you taking her?” she asks again.

“Just to my place. For the night.” He shoves his hands into his pockets nervously. “If that’s ok with you,” he adds.

She shakes her head and re-enters the apartment. “Would it kill you two to at least pretend like you aren’t running off to fuck?” she asks.

“We aren’t… we haven’t,” I stammer. This is so stupidly humiliating. She’s starting to get me really mad. “I’m eighteen, Cecelia. For God’s sake, you’re being crazy. I’ve slept at Bree’s for years and you knew what was going on with us.”

“I guess that’s true,” she replies sourly. “Fine. Go. But Jesus, Skylar, be safe. He’s not a chick, you can actually get pregnant with this one.”

I stifle a laugh. “All right,” I say and hurry out of the apartment before she changes her mind.

I have a feeling her concern about me getting pregnant is more about her and less about me, though. Her responsibilities are almost over now; I’m almost out the door and out of her life forever. She doesn’t want any setbacks spoiling that, I’m sure.

When Parker and I pull into his driveway, about fifteen minutes later, I’m surprised to see that his home is much larger and luxurious than I had imagined a police officer could afford.

He sees the look of surprise on my face and seems to know what it is I’m thinking. “My mom was a really good defense attorney,” he explains as we get out of the car, “and when she died her life insurance paid the house off so my dad and I could afford to stay.”

I nod, unable to speak. I had no idea he was rich at all, let alone this rich! I thought Spencer’s stepdad had money, but Spencer’s home is nothing like this. Wow!

He takes my hand in his and leads me through a path around the house to an iron gate with a digital lock above the handle. He quickly punches in a six-digit code and the gate buzzes, allowing us to enter into the surprisingly well-lit backyard. We continue to walk toward a beautiful belowground swimming pool with lights seeming to shine up from the water and an adjoining hot tub positioned right in front of a smaller version of his gorgeous mansion. It’s a pool house. I’ve only ever seen something like this on TV and I can’t help but allow my eyes to grow wide in awe. All I can think is that he’s been slumming it with me. This is a first-class life. People would kill for this life.

We walk around the pool toward the pool house’s entrance and I can’t help but giggle. “You live in this pool house, don’t you?” I ask.

He frowns and glances at me questioningly, apparently not understanding why I think this is so funny. “You’ve never watched
The O.C.
?” I ask, still giggling.

He shakes his head as an uncertain smile creeps onto his face. “Why?”

“I’ll show you someday. You’ll understand once you see it.”

“Um, ok then,” he says, insulted by my reply. He thinks I’m laughing at him; that I’m making fun of who he is and where he comes from.

I lean in to kiss him, sensing an uneasiness I’ve never experienced from him before. It’s clear that bringing me here, showing this part of himself to me, is a big step for him and my giggling probably isn’t helping him feel secure about it.

“It’s a good show,” I decide to elaborate once he moves away from my attempted kiss, “It’s about this delinquent bad boy who ends up living in the pool house of a rich family who takes him in because he has nowhere else to go.”

I see the tension from his shoulders disappear and after a moment he smiles. “Seriously?”

“Cross my heart,” I reply.

“You’ll have to show me that one sometime,” he says and then quickly goes on, “you hungry?”

I shrug. “Not really.”

“I’m starving,” he says as he unlocks the sliding patio door of the pool house and motions for me to enter ahead of him.

When he flicks on the lights I freeze in place. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, but I certainly wasn’t expecting to walk into an amazingly luxurious mini-mansion! Marble counter tops, high-end appliances, a living room with a huge fireplace and a television the size of a theater screen! My mouth is hanging open. I can’t even pretend not to be amazed by all of this.

He walks over to the fridge and starts digging around as if he doesn’t see me in complete awe of this place.

As he’s preparing himself something to eat, I continue to explore the house, coming across two rooms at the end of an unlit hallway. One of the rooms is obviously Parker’s bedroom. It’s messy like mine; lived in. I suspect that it’s where he probably spends most of his time being that his PS4 is hooked up to a normal sized TV in here and not in the living room.

I turn to the other room and stop abruptly when I see that it’s an office. A very cluttered and well-used office with so many pictures of Parker scattered all over its walls. Parker at every age, and everywhere.

I move through the room examining each photo. Parker fishing with his dad, Parker blowing out eight candles on a cake, Parker hugging his mom on the same chair sitting right in front of me now, Parker swimming in a pool, Parker playing with a pet dog, Parker in a basketball jersey posing with a ball in his hand. I walk toward a wall of shelves filled with trophies and see that they are all for basketball. He used to play and he used to be really good too! Wow. MVP of the year, championships, regionals, nationals… I feel like I know nothing about this guy!

I hear a creak behind me and turn around abruptly, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing. “Just me,” he says with a guarded smile.

“I’m sorry. I was just—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, taking a bite out of his sandwich and ignoring how guilty I appear. He chews quickly and then swallows. “I see you’ve found the Parker collection.”

“Apparently,” I say. “You never said you used to play basketball. You were obviously really good.”

He shrugs. “It was a long time ago. In a different life.”

I’m filled with so many questions that I know I won’t get any answers to, at least not tonight. Parker’s past is something he keeps hidden within himself, only allowing small pieces at a time to be revealed to me. Bringing me here, allowing me to see this room, is another piece of the puzzle. But this is all I’ll be getting tonight and I know it.

“Was this your mom’s office?” I ask softly, reaching for his hand and bringing it to my mouth. I kiss each finger one after another before letting his hand go again.

He smiles sadly. “Yeah, come on,” he says, motioning for me to follow him out of the room. He gently closes the door behind us. “I don’t like it in there.”

“I’m sorry,” I say in a whisper, “I shouldn’t have been snooping around.”

“You weren’t snooping. Don’t worry about it. I just don’t like looking in there. Reminds me of my mom dying and everything about me that died with her.”

My heart breaks. I want to ask him how she died and why it is that he blames himself so much for her death, but I don’t. He will tell me when he’s ready.

“I didn’t bring you here to impress you with my stuff, you know that right?” he asks as he finishes up his sandwich and goes into the bathroom for a glass of water.

I walk into his bedroom and crawl on top of his cozy-looking king-sized bed. “I know that, baby,” I say once he enters the room. I pat a place beside me, motioning for him to join me.

He walks over and lies down beside me, just like we always have at
The Misfit Mansion
. I run my fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes and repositions himself so his cheek is wedged into the crook of my neck. He takes in deep breath and exhales. “I love you,” he whispers, and for the first time I see pain in his face when he says it. I bring my lips to his forehead and kiss him softly. He doesn’t open his eyes, but his lips curl into a tiny frown. I can tell that it hurts him to tell me he loves me now, and I know it’s because he can’t bear for me not to say it back anymore.

“I love you too,” I say, knowing that it’s finally time I give in to that fact.