The Price We Pay (24 page)

“Your hair looks amazing. I’ll want you no matter what color your hair is.”

She nodded and I continued, “You doing okay? Want to talk about Randy?”

“I’m getting there. He’s where he wanted to be and I feel good about that.”

“He was a good man,” I told her. He didn’t have a good life, but he turned it around and would have kept himself clean and on the right track if he was still alive.

“He was, and he’ll be missed every day.”

Sofia

“Are you sure you want to do this, Sofia?” Marvey asked a stupid question and had yet to comment on my dress.

I spun around. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s not white,” she pointed out.

“I know!”

Parts of it were white, but mostly it was just a regular dress, nothing too fancy, but it was long, and it flowed softly, barely touching the ground when I walked.

“It’s polka-dot, Sofia! You’re getting married in polka-dots!”

“It’s beautiful,” I said running one hand down my dress. “Fits like a glove.”

“I guess,” she huffed.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I finally fell in love with Kenny. Like real love, Marvey.”

She still wasn’t feeling it.

“Kenny and I are free. We said
fuck you
to our parents, kind of, and we’re going to live our own lives. Make our own decisions. This is what you’ve wanted me to do since you met me!”

“Well, when you put it that way…” She smiled and grabbed me. “Neither of us can cry.” She whispered into my ear, “I won’t be responsible if your wedding pictures turn out like shit.”

“Have I told you how much I love you, Marv?”

“No, tell me again.”

We both laughed and fanned our faces, trying to hold our tears back.

“Let’s get through the pictures first,” Marv said.

“Think he’ll like the dress?” I asked her.

“If he loves you, he’ll love that dress.”

Kennedy

Sofia and I were married and we did it on our terms. The dress was hilarious and I couldn’t wait for everyone to see it. I started laughing when I saw her walk down the short aisle at the random Chapel we had found on the Las Vegas strip. We all broke out in laughter after that. We didn’t say our own vows and we didn’t want vows to be read to us, so the ceremony was really short. We wanted everything we did to be different and out of the norm. We didn’t want to be predictable anymore, and since Sofia could only wear her ring on the right hand, I wore mine on my right hand also.

My girl Harper was the second one to get married. She told Jaxon she wasn’t ready but two months after their trip to Vegas, her feelings changed and she proposed to him. She told her parents that the man who murdered her brother was taken care of and that they got justice for Harry. She lied to them, though. Keylan didn’t confess to it but after Harper's visit with Harry and myself, she was ready to move on from it. Two weeks after she proposed to him, Kennedy and the gang flew back to Vegas. She was pregnant at the time, but they didn’t realize it until she was four months along.

Marvey wanted Dedrick to propose, and she knew when she showed him the positive pregnancy stick that he would. However, he didn’t. He didn’t propose until after the baby was born and again, Kennedy and the gang went to Vegas. Apparently, it was their thing and she even wore her stupid yellow hat when she walked down the aisle.

Sofia and Kennedy had not yet been able to get pregnant. They were living their lives to the fullest and they knew it would happen when the time was right. Sofia’s father tried a few times to contact her or talk to her at the very few functions that they did attend, but she refused.

Laken and Pacer had their moments, most of them were rough, but they always managed. They fought hard but loved each other harder. They were taking their time with marriage and kids and thought it best to wait until after Pacer retired from the MMA world.

Dedrick and Jaxon ended up quitting their jobs and went to work with Gabe. Tristain makes them margaritas every day.

Heaven wasn’t so bad of a place.

It took Harry and me awhile to get in, but we did it.

There are such things as second chances.

We were proud of ourselves but mostly proud of our family and friends.

I never thought I’d make it in Heaven.

Neither did Harry.

But we did.

Miracles happen every day.

You just have to believe.

Thanks for reading, don’t forget to leave a review!

Where to find Alora Kate…

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Other Series by Alora Kate

The Four Seasons Series

The Aster Lake Series

Copyright © 2016 by Alora Kate

Read on for a Sneak Peak of my next book!

Coming Early 2017

Title: A Flaw So Beautiful

Genre: New Adult Romance, Standalone

Chapter 1 – Lincoln

Stalking someone is wrong.

It’s inappropriate.

It’s dishonest.

Above all, it’s illegal. I know all of this; yet, I continue my ritual of stalking, every week, on Monday.

Or maybe I was just a very good
watcher
? I had a good eye and paid attention to detail. Once I saw or read something, it was stored in my memory and I was able to recall it easily. That’s why I always got A’s in school and ended up torturing many of my fellow classmates, along with my little sister.

It’s just who I was and whether someone considered what I was doing, stalking or watching, I didn’t feel like I was doing something wrong. I’m here every Monday morning standing in my doorway just to see her. Just to spend those few seconds with her.

There was something about this girl that called to me and I wanted to know more about her. I needed to know why I couldn’t stop myself from being in this hallway every Monday morning.

Maybe it was because she ignored me?

Maybe it was because I liked a challenge?

Or maybe it was because her ass looked good in her jeans?

Yes, definitely the jeans.

She must not be too worried about it because no cops or the landlord came knocking on my door. I just wanted to talk to her, get to know her, maybe take her out for coffee.

Besides, she hasn’t ever asked me to stop, so why not keep trying?

I was a nosy neighbor. It wasn’t healthy. My best friend, Nick, made sure he mentioned it on numerous occasions.

Here I was, standing in my doorway, on Monday Number Nine, the same scene playing out just as it has for the past eight weeks. She lived one door down and across the hall from me. I only knew a few things about her, none of which she shared. It was only because she couldn’t hide those things from me.

Hell, I still don’t even know her name. It was weird having a one-sided conversation with myself.

Today, on Monday number Nine, while I waited, I thought about the previous eight Mondays and what happened.

Monday Number One: It was the first day I noticed her walking into the building. I moved into the apartment building that day. Nick and I were taking in the last of the boxes out of my truck. I was in the truck at the time, pushing another box to the edge of the bed when I looked up and saw her. She had just turned to go into the building, so I didn’t catch her face. However, I did notice her nice round ass that a pair of dark washed jeans hugged perfectly. I was an ass man and immediately intrigued. I jumped down from the truck, grabbed the box quickly, and headed inside hoping to catch her in the hallway. By the time I got inside, she was gone but Nick had been walking towards me. He’d not seen any woman in the hallway.

Monday Number Two: I had just got back from my morning run and was unlocking my door when I caught sight of her walking in the building. She had only been a few seconds behind me.

Perfect timing, right?

So I said,
hi
as she passed by, trying to introduce myself and she cut me off by saying, “
I’m a lesbian
.” She never looked at me, never stopped walking, and was inside her apartment before I could comment back.

This time, I noticed she wore big black sunglasses that covered half of her face. They had some kind of design on them, like fake diamonds or something on the side. Her hair was brown, tied up on top of her head in a messy looking bun, and I could tell from that, that her hair was really long. Seeing her in the white t-shirt and jeans reminded me that it looked like the same outfit she wore last Monday.

She was carrying a couple bags of groceries in one hand and a dark purse was hanging from the other shoulder.

I laughed to myself at her lesbian comment because I knew she was just blowing me off. I’m a bouncer at a popular nightclub in town and the girls that I work with always tell the customers that so they don’t bother and hit on them all night.

Now I was even more intrigued and knew I’d be trying to talk to her again next Monday. I didn’t mind she was playing hard to get.

I had seen her twice now; both on Mondays, around the same time, so I knew I’d be taking my morning run at the same time next morning. Maybe I could get lucky three Mondays in a row; unless of course, I got another chance to talk to her before next Monday.

But I didn’t get another chance that week.

Monday Number Three. She had the same look on her face; not interested, cold. No smile. She showed no reaction to seeing me standing in my doorway as if I wasn’t even there. I said
hi
again. She replied with, “
I’m married
.”

I laughed and said, “
Is your wife shy like you
?” I waited the few seconds it took for her to open her door and she slipped inside without answering me.

I highly doubt she was a lesbian, let alone married. I saw no ring. I also didn’t get that vibe from her—the married vibe, the lesbian vibe, or the married lesbian vibe. This furthered my decision and actions that she was just trying to blow me off.

Monday Number Four: Over the last week I decided to change my approach. Maybe she didn’t like people all up in her business or life, so I decided to start sharing myself with her.

I had roughly twenty seconds by the time I saw her hit the top steps until she unlocked her door and shut herself inside.

I planned and rehearsed what I was going to say to make sure she would hear it all.

Here goes nothing
.

“My name is Lincoln, but most people call me Linc. I’m twenty-eight, I work at a bar, my favorite color is blue, and I was born without a pinky toe on my right foot,” I rushed out and took another breath of air. “I hope you’re happily married and your wife treats you well!” She shut the door as my last word left my lips.

No response. No reaction. I thought the pinky thing would for sure get her to at least smile, or laugh. In school, my friends called me Pinky. It was a stupid nickname, but my friends were assholes and stupid most of the time. I think that’s why I kept at it. I wanted her to acknowledge me.

Monday Number Five: “I’m a bouncer at a bar, four days a week. I like to run; no, I love to run. And read, and watch movies, and hang out with friends. My favorite food is Mexican. I’ve been to Hawaii once, it’s as beautiful as all the pictures you see online. My friends in school called me Pinky because of my toe and I hated the nickname.”

Monday Number Six: “I’m tall if you haven’t noticed, six three, which makes me especially handy in a grocery store, or reaching the kitchen cabinets. I had a Mohawk for a year; my mom hated it and refused to take any pictures of me during that year. I have one younger sister; she’s twenty-two and just graduated from college. I also have a college degree. I was hit by a car when I was seven and broke my right leg in two spots, but don’t worry, I don’t walk funny.” I wondered if she even heard me, her door shut before I even finished. I made a list of more things to tell her about me for the future.

It was crazy to want to know someone who clearly did not intend to ever get to know me. You would think being ignored for six weeks that I’d stop trying, but I couldn’t.  There was something about her. Something silent and unspoken that called to me and I wasn’t about to give up.

I wondered what could have happened to make her so shy.

I wondered why she always had on the same clothes and carried the same three bags of groceries.

I wonder why Monday, was the only day I saw her and why was it always ten am?

Maybe she had trust issues?

After all these weeks, and all that’s happened, she never did anything to make me stop. She never asked me to stop. She didn’t fear me and I guess that was another reason I kept waiting for her on Mondays.

I just wanted to know her name.

Hell, just to hear her voice again would be nice. I’d even settle for a wave or a head nod. Other than “
I’m a lesbian and I’m married
,” she hasn’t spoken to me.

Monday Number Seven: “I fell in love with my high school sweetheart; our first year in college I caught her cheating on me with my best friend, who is no longer my best friend. Nick’s my best friend now, my boss, he offered me a job and I moved here from Gainesville almost two months ago. I like living here, especially the people, who are so nice to me.”

She paused.

She had unlocked her door, opened it, and then paused before she stepped inside.

Say something
! I screamed silently to her.

Her shoulders dropped, she let out a sigh and walked through her door.

Finally, a reaction! It was little but it was better than nothing.

I’d take it.

Monday Number Eight: “I consider you my friend even though you don’t talk to me. Nick thinks I’m crazy, he teases me, but I look forward to our twenty seconds every Monday. I’ll be here every week unless you say otherwise or you stop showing up.”

She opened the door and paused.

You can do this
.  I again found myself encouraging her silently.

It didn’t work.

Once again, she seemed defeated and she went inside.

So now it’s Monday Number Nine.

I’m still standing in my doorway waiting for her. She’s always here between ten and ten-fifteen. It’s now twenty after ten.

I wondered if I should worry, or if she finally changed her schedule so she didn’t have to deal with me.

Nick really does think I’m crazy. I can’t explain it to him or myself. I just know I need to keep trying. At first, it was because I knew she was just blowing me off but now I feel like she needed me. I want to protect her and I don’t even know why. I don’t even know if she needs protecting.

I have it bad for a girl I don’t even know.

I heard the main door open.

A few seconds later, her beauty embraced me at the top of the steps.

But this time, she was in a hurry. She was almost running. This was different.

Very different. Something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” I asked as she rushed passed me. She fumbled with her keys because her hands were shaking as she tried to open her door.

I did something different for the first time. I pushed off the door frame and walked towards her.

“Are you okay?” I asked again softly.

She managed to get her door open and she paused. “Please don’t come any closer.” Her voice was shaky just like her hands. She appeared scared of me like she’d never seen me before. Maybe even upset.

I stopped immediately and said, “I won’t come any closer if you can just tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” It was forced and I noticed she was staring at her hands that were on the door handle.

“Okay.”

I wasn’t going to push her. After the last nine weeks, I knew she would need time. I was more than okay with it. I just wanted to make sure she was safe.

She turned her head slightly to the left to look at me.

I felt like I had won the lottery.

My heart started racing, a familiar feeling because I’m a runner, but this was different. She still wore the sunglasses but she was looking at me. She saw me. Being acknowledged by her settled something inside of me. What it settled, I had no idea but it felt fitting and appropriate.

I couldn’t help the smile that broke out on my face.

“My name is Ashton,” she blurted so fast I almost couldn’t understand her.

I stood there smiling, staring at her door which was shut with her inside for just a few more minutes before going back to my apartment.

Total stalker.

But she told me her name.

Ashton.

I liked her name, she looked like an Ashton and I was now confident I would see her again next Monday.

I went back to my place, showered, and made sure the door was unlocked at eleven. Nick would be here any minute. For the last three weeks, he started coming over at eleven to check on me. He wanted to make sure I hadn’t kidnapped the poor girl he thinks I made up in my mind. He hasn’t actually told me that yet, but I know that’s what he’s thinking.

Why else would he keep coming over and asking me twenty questions every Monday at eleven am.

I heard the door open and close. “You live to see another day,” he said as he came into the kitchen and planted himself on a stool at the island.

I wasted no time. “Her name is Ashton.”

I was so happy to know her name.

“No shit?” He smirked. “Well, it’s about fucking time. What is this like, week nine or ten?”

“Nine.”

“You’ve been in a non-relationship longer than I’ve ever dated someone,” he admitted.

It was a one-sided non-relationship.