Pieces Of Heaven (Heaven & Hell #2)(11)

"Eat that and then go home. You are done for the day. You've been here for fourteen hours."

I look over at the clock hanging behind the counter that reads 8 p.m., realizing she's right.

"I'm just going to finish filling the shakers then I'll take off." I know she's about to argue with me when the bell over the door rings again, making us both look up.

His eyes find me right away. My heart that was starting to calm down is now speeding up. I focus on my meal, cutting a piece of meatloaf and dipping it in the gravy before popping it into my mouth. I try to ignore the heat of his stare, try to think of anything but him and that naked woman from last night. His girlfriend. I was so stupid to think that he would actually want me. I'm a used up stripper whose daughter ran away from home. I'm the opposite of what he wants or needs.

The chair in front of me is filled with his big frame. The scent of his aftershave, of cologne lingers around us. Musky, rich, and woodsy. It's the smell that has seeped its way into my memory along with the way his lips felt on mine. The way that I just fit, like I was made for him. I blink away the memory, looking up at him.

"All the seats in this place are open and you sit in front of me?" I ask him before scooping up more food. I didn't notice how hungry I was till I started eating.

"You didn't text me back." His voice is hard, his muscles tight, his jaw ticking.



       
         
       
        

I take out my phone. "Oh, I put the do not disturb on under your name. Maybe that's why."

My phone is snapped out of my hand in a blink of an eye. "What the fuck?" I see him touching the screen angrily and turning it off.

"You know you're doing that for nothing since I can turn it on again?" I finish off my whole plate, making my stomach hurt since it's the first thing I've eaten since last night.

"What if I had information on Lori?" Bulls-eye, hit straight through my heart. He must see the color drain from my face as I realize that I fucked up. I'm not going to admit it to him, though.

"I don't have Jackson's number blocked, and he would have called me." I shrug my shoulders, picking up my plate to bring it to the gray bussing bin.

Walking over, I wipe down the table right when Phyllis comes out from the kitchen.

"There you are! I have your order ready. It's being boxed up. Did you want dessert with that?"

His eyes never leave mine. "No, that's okay. Thanks, Phyllis."

I grab my phone from him, putting it in the front pocket of my waitress pouch. "I'm taking off. My feet are killing me. See you tomorrow, Phyllis."

I don't wait for her to say anything to me before I walk out the door to my car. Turning it on, I drive home, determined not to give Mick another minute of my thoughts. Just one problem with that plan, though. No one mentioned to my head that I wasn't thinking about him because his eyes flash in my mind, the hard lines around them. The sorrow that is buried there, the sadness that he thinks no one sees but is there, if you look long enough.

I make my way into my apartment, taking my shoes off my throbbing feet at the door.

Walking into the kitchen, I take out the tips from my pocket and count them out. Three hundred and seventeen dollars. Two hundred of that is going to that damn debt that I'm still paying off. I can't fucking wait till it's over. I walk over to Lori's room like I do every single night, turning on the light to see if maybe something has been misplaced or moved.

I've put scotch tape on the drawers to alert me if they've been opened, but it's still intact. I've labeled her clothes hanging in the closet by number, and I count them, seeing that none have been taken either.

The bed is exactly how she left it. I crawl into her bed and grab her pillow, breathing in her scent. Tears run down my face, seeping into the pillow. This has become my nightly routine. I sleep here so I'm closer to her. I lie in this bed, talking to her. Telling her about my day, praying that she calls me again. I tell her stories about when she was small, about the day they placed her in my arms. The tears never stop. It's like an endless river. 

The soft knock at the door has me raising my head. Walking slowly to the door, I look through the peephole and see that Mick is in the hallway. His hands are braced against the doorframe, his head hanging down.

I place my forehead on the door, take a deep breath in, and open the door. His eyes land right on mine. The tears continue to roll down my cheeks, right off my chin on their way to the floor. He brings his thumb up to my chin, catching them.

"Marissa," he whispers, and it's all I can do before I collapse into his arms, sobbing. Begging. Pleading with him to bring her back to me.

He picks me up and carries me inside. Sitting on the couch with me curled into a ball in his lap, my tears soak his shirt. I'm so exhausted from the fear, stress, and worry. I'm just too tired to move.

"I'm a good mom," I whisper to him. "I was tough on her only because I wanted better for her. Wanted her out of this life. Wanted her to be something." My hand lies on his chest, the beat of his heart pounding against my palm.

"I know, baby, I know."

I don't say anything more. I just continue to soak up the feeling of his heart beating as it calms me. My eyes droop, and the exhaustion drags me under.

I don't move from this position all night. I wake the next morning with the same heart beating against my hand.





Chapter Twelve


Mick


I know the exact moment she wakes up because her body goes stiff. I feel her eyes blink open, her lashes making my shirt move. Just a touch.

"Morning." My hands circle her waist while I bring her closer to me.

She stills for a moment before she wiggles free from my embrace, mumbling that she has to pee. I let her go and take a moment to will my cock into calming down. If she squirmed against me any more, I might have gone off in my pants.

I pick up my phone to look at the time. Four thirty-nine. I hear a flush from the bathroom, and I get up to make some coffee for us. I open the cupboard, and I notice it's pretty bare. Four cups, four plates. Everything seems to be in fours.

I open a few more cupboards as I look for the coffee, and I find that they're almost empty as well. The bathroom door slowly opens, and I hear her pad into the kitchen. Her eyes take me in as I continue opening the cupboards.

"Lori and I usually do all the shopping together." A tear escapes one eye, which she quickly wipes away before it can land on her cheek. "It was our thing. She even uses coupons, which drives me nuts." Her voice starts to drift off.

"What time do you start work?" I ask her, leaning back on the counter, crossing my hands over my chest.

"I'm going to go in for six a.m. so I can help her set up."

"Okay. Go get dressed, and I'll drive you over. We can eat there before you start."

She shakes her head. "No, I'm not doing this, Mick. I'm not doing this with you, not now. Actually, not ever. You have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who is comfortable enough that she doesn't even think twice about showing up at your place naked." She places her hands on her hips but doesn't stop her rant. "You need to leave now. There is no need for you to contact me unless it has to do with Lori. This"-she indicates with her finger moving between us-"is never going to happen again."

I stare at her for a second, taking her in. She's tiny, so tiny, yet she thinks she's a beast. Her eyes are tired but proud, and her makeup free face is showing the pain that she is carrying from all of this. I take it all in and decide that those eyes will shine again. No more dread will darken them as I vow to work until they're shining with happiness. I'll do anything, fucking anything, for her. She'll never want or need for anything if I can help it. I take in her face and decide that I'll be the one who makes sure that she smiles for the rest of her life.



       
         
       
        

"We need to get some things cleared up. I don't have a girlfriend. I never did." I look at her, waiting for my words to sink into her head. It obviously doesn't since she huffs out and rolls her eyes. I rein in my desire to pull her into my arms, because this is important. I have to make sure she gets it. "We had a thing, but we don't anymore. I'm not going to go into Sandie now. You don't need that shit in your life. Fuck, I don't need that shit in my life. But if you want, one day, when this is all over, I'll tell you all of it. With that said, this thing"-I point between me and her-"it's fucking happening. I'm not fighting it anymore, and you aren't going to fight it either. We both deserve to be fucking happy." I break down at that point and take her face in my hands. "Let me make you happy. Fuck, let me be happy, too." My thumbs gently stroke her cheeks. "Please," I whisper my plea, hoping like hell she gives in to the inevitability of us.

Her hands move to my wrists while I hold my breath, hoping she doesn't rip my hands from her face. I move in closer to her, watching her eyes gazing up at me. "I've never depended on anyone for my happiness. I've just created my own. I don't know what it is, but something is pulling me to you."