Be My Hero (Forbidden Men 3)

I tried to sniff up some of the tears leaking down my cheeks, but I realized too late that they'd heard me. Before I could push to my feet to escape to my room, both Mason and Reese appeared in the doorway.

When they saw me bawling on the floor, my face heated mercilessly. I lifted a hand in apology, trying to excuse my behavior. "Sorry. Ignore me. Freaking pregnancy hormones."

"Oh, hell, E." Reese knelt next to me and pulled me into a hug. "How much did you overhear?"

"All of it," I admitted, wiping my cheeks and hugging her back before I looked up at Mason. "I'm sorry," I told him. "And I'm not just saying that to try to get you to let me stay. If you want me to go, I'll go. I totally understand, but I . . . really, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it. I didn't understand. I don't think I wanted to understand. But I do now, and it'll never happen again."

He closed his eyes and blew out a breath, his jaw hard and unforgiving before he muttered, "Damn it," and got down on the floor to sweep both of us girls into his arms for a hard family hug. "It's okay," he reluctantly admitted, not meeting my gaze before he pulled away, touching Reese's back while he did as if he needed to feel her for support.

She smiled at him and nodded her approval. In that moment, he became the only male I'd ever considered not evil. And for the first time since Reese and he had hooked up, I was actually jealous of her. She'd found a diamond in the rough. She deserved it more than anyone I knew, but a part of me still felt covetous. Now that I knew there was actually such a thing as a good guy, I wanted one too. I wanted some white knight to be my hero.

Screw girl power. I wasn't strong. I wasn't anything. I needed help. A lot of help.

Clearing my throat, I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "I can leave now," I offered. It was the very least I could do. I had no idea where I'd go, because Reese was the last person I could turn to. But there had to be some kind of shelter in this town where I could stay the night. Right?

"You don't have to go," Mason mumbled. "We said we'd help you until you could get out on your own. And we will."

More tears flooded my cheeks. "I don't know how long it will take. I'll look for a job as soon as the baby's born, and I'll chip in on the bills and—"

Mason covered my hand briefly. The warmth and compassion in his fingers startled me. "Just . . . take care of your kid. The rest will come when it comes. We'll help you."

His kindness and willingness to give me a second chance pulverized me. For the first time in years, I finally felt free. I didn't have to worry about any male in my own home trying to get at me. I could just live, focus on my baby, and begin the rest of my life. Except, now that I could finally be me, I felt lost.

I had no idea who I really was.

Chapter 2

PICK

I had sacrificed a lot over the years to help friends out. I'd dished out my own hard-earned money to get people out of trouble. I'd gone cold all winter to make sure others had coats. I'd stayed up all night with a baby so someone else could get a little shut-eye before I had to head into work at the ass-crack of dawn the next morning. But I had to admit, I'd never given up sex for anyone before.

That's exactly what I was about to do.

Sitting outside the judge's chambers in the courthouse, I tapped my toe against the floor as Tristy and I waited for them to call our names. Next to me, she sneezed and scratched a spot on her shoulder. She used to scratch her arms all the time when she was tweaking. Drugs had made her do all kinds of weird shit.

Hoping she hadn't started that up again, I shot her a sharp glance as she dropped her hand. I thought I'd been careful, keeping a close eye on her. She said she'd been clean for the past six months. But I knew I couldn't watch her all the time, not when I was working two full-time jobs and pretty much only came home to sleep.

Catching my stare, she frowned. "What?"

I shook my head and turned away. She had assured me she'd stopped the drugs, so I chose to believe her. But she better not fuck with me on that issue, because I was sacrificing a lot—my fucking sex life included—to help her out.

Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the wall behind me and tried to remember the last time I'd actually had sex. The memory could be my way of saying goodbye to it for the next couple of months or—shit, I hoped not—years.

My buddies at Forbidden, the bar where I worked, thought I got laid damn near every night. While that might've been nice, it wasn't anywhere near the truth. Ten out of ten times, I didn't touch the girls the guys saw me take home from the bar, nothing beyond a hug or kiss on the cheek, because they were drunk when I drove their cute asses home. No self-respecting guy took advantage of a wasted chick.

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been inside a woman, how long ago it had been or even with whom, so of course my mind brought up an image I never forgot. And it was as if I was still fourteen, being fed the glimpse by that old witch. I saw unique blue eyes first, then her blonde hair, her smile, the hint of lilac.

A sigh eased from my lungs.

My Tinker Bell.

But thinking about her—whoever she was—only made my chest ache. If Madam LeFrey were still alive, I'd look that woman up and cuss her out. It'd been ten years, and she still had me dreaming about those goddamn glimpses. Ten years, and I still wanted Tinker Bell to be a real person I could really meet. Ten fucking years, and I still thought my happily ever after might come true.

Fucking bullshit.

Wishing Madam LeFrey were toasting in a nice fiery pit in hell right about now, I opened my eyes when a small whimper came from the floor between me and Tristy. The car seat began to sway as the baby inside woke, thrashing his arms and legs.

Tristy moaned and sent the kid a glare. "God . . . damn it. He just went to sleep. Why can't he just stay the fuck asleep for ten full minutes?"