Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle 12)

I sigh and rub my hand down my face. “Here’s the thing, Starla. I’m not convinced it’s plenty. Not after this. So, for the foreseeable future, you won’t ever be alone. If I can’t be with you, Jax or Meredith will be.”

“I’m a prisoner.”

“You’re a person we all care about, and we’re going to take care of you,” I counter. “I’m going to find out who this sick bastard is, and we’ll put an end to this. But in the meantime, you’re not alone. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Fine.”

“And I’m moving in here.”

She cocks a brow. “Gee, you’re so romantic.”

“This isn’t how I intended to tell you we’re moving in together, but it is what it is.”

She blinks rapidly. “You mean you were going to ask me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I take her hand and kiss her thumb. “Besides, we’ve already adopted a kitten. Did you think we’d be sharing custody?”

A slow smile spreads over her gorgeous face. “How sweet. We’re fur-parents.”

“Funny. Never alone, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Her mouth is sassy, but she climbs into my lap and lays her head on my shoulder. “Why do people suck?”

“That’s the question of the year.”~Starla~

He’s comforting me. I’m trying to pretend that it doesn’t bother me, that the upchucking in the toilet was just because of the graphic content of the photo, but the whole situation is starting to freak me the fuck out.

I just don’t want to lose my freedom. I’m independent, almost to a fault.

Obviously.

“You should think about warning your family,” Levi says as his hand rubs up and down my back.

“I’ll call Jax and Mer in just a bit.”

“No.” He kisses my temple. “Your biological family. You may not want to have much to do with them, but a good stalker will try to find ways to hurt you, and they will threaten your family, too.”

“There’s really no way anyone could trace me to my family.” I lean back and look him in the eyes. “And I’m not saying that just because I don’t want to talk to them. My legal name isn’t tied to theirs. I have never spoken about my family to anyone, personally or publicly, except for Mer and Jax, and they aren’t telling anyone. If I thought they were in danger, I would contact them, but I don’t believe they are.”

“What the hell, Star? What’s the backstory here?”

I sigh and lay my head on his shoulder again. I should talk to him about them. I know that.

I just hate it. I never discuss them. I haven’t said their names in more than fifteen years.

But Levi’s different. Whatever we have here—and if I’d stop being so damn stubborn, I’d admit that it’s love—is important to me, and I don’t want secrets with him. I would be hurt if the tables were turned.

“You know those cults, mostly in the south, where people hold snakes in church, and it’s all fire and brimstone and stuff?”

“I’ve seen news reports about it.”

“Well, I’ve seen it up close and personal. It’s not a real church. They say they’re Christians, but what I grew up in wasn’t that. It was horrible and evil. It was the worst extreme you can think of, times a hundred.”

I move from his lap to my chair facing him and push my hair up into a bun, using the hair tie I keep on my wrist.

“My father is the high priest. That’s what he calls himself. Sometimes, he’s the bishop. I think it just depends on his mood.

“They would bring snakes, venomous ones, into church every month. Sometimes, people would get bit and die. It was a freak show. Not to mention, I was required to get up at four every morning to memorize bible verses until it was time for schoolwork. We weren’t allowed to go to regular school. And it wasn’t normal homeschool either. My parents felt that both of those things were full of Satan, so they taught us at home. I learned to read by reading the bible.”

“Lovely,” Levi says and rubs his fingers over his mouth. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Nine.”

His head snaps up in surprise. “Nine?”

“There are ten of us altogether, but I’m the only one who left. I was always the rebellious one. I listened to radio stations that weren’t allowed. I cut off all my hair myself, ruining blond hair that went to my ass. I liked breaking the rules because I thought they were ridiculous.

“And I was punished.”

“Punished how?”

I raise my shirt and turn to the side, not able to look him in the eye. “These scars?”

“I’ve felt them,” he confirms softly.

“Whip marks.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ve thought about covering them with a tattoo, but I don’t know what I want. Punishments included whippings, starvation, having to walk around naked for days. You name it. They always said it was God’s will that they punish me like that.”