Kiss the Stars (Falling Stars 1)

Old, old wounds. Hardened and cracked.

A rubbed my fingers over my lips.

How the fuck was I supposed to handle this?

“She wasn’t exactly nice, no.”

A slash of sadness crumpled her face, her brows drawing tight in sympathy. “Did she hurt you?” she whispered, her expression a flood of worry.

I fought the cynical laughter scraping my throat, and I roughed my hand through my hair over and over again. “Not physically.”

Not me, anyway.

Those dark eyes softened and deepened and saw too many things. Just like her mother. “I’m sorry. Moms are supposed to be our favorite people and it’s stupid and wrong when they’re not.”

Something tugged at that ugly spot that throbbed from within. Still I was chewing at my bottom lip and giving her a tight nod. “Yeah, it sucks. But I think what matters here is that you have one of the good ones.”

I thought it was fear I saw blast across her face before she quickly turned away and cracked three eggs into the skillet. They splattered and sizzled in the hot, melted butter. Scent of it rising into the air, binding with the sudden tension that rippled and shook.

“I don’t want her to die, too.” She muttered it so quietly that I could barely be sure that she’d actually said it.

But I felt it.

A slash across my soul.

“I won’t let that happen.” The promise was out before I could stop it.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What was I doing? Assigning myself responsibility? But I couldn’t seem to make myself stop. Not when this kid clearly needed reassurance.

“She pretends like everything is okay, but sometimes I hear her crying at night,” Penny continued. “I hate it when she cries, Mr. Godwin. I hate it, and I want to make it go away. That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

The last was barely a breath, her head tipped to the floor. The pieces getting loose from her ponytail created a veil across her face.

Like she was ashamed to admit it.

Torment clutched me, hers and mine, her confession wrapping me in leather binds.

I pressed my hands to the stone of the island to keep myself from going to her. The surface cold against the fire that was raging in my veins. “You shouldn’t worry, Penny. That’s why you’re here. So you’re all safe. Your uncle and I are going to see to that.”

I had no idea what I was even promising her, and I thought it was high-time I asked a few fucking questions.

Her chin trembled when she stared back at me. “Are you sure?”

Nothing will happen to you. Not ever. I promise you.

The pathetic oath roared through my mind. Decayed and rotten. Black venom oozed from the pits of this living hell that toiled inside.

I gulped around it.

“I promise. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Won’t let anything happen to you.

My spirit fired, and I swore, I caught a glimpse of Karma kicking her feet up on the ottoman in the den while sipping a cup of coffee, grinning maniacally behind the mug.

Someone needed to stab that bitch.

“Okay,” Penny whispered.

She turned back to the eggs she was scrambling, and four slices of toast popped up from the toaster. She busied herself, putting butter and jam on the toast and plating some eggs.

Shyness had taken her whole when she turned around with the plate clutched in two hands, her shoulders to her ears as she crossed the floor. Carefully, she slid the plate over to me. “That’s for you. Because your mom didn’t do a good job of taking care of you.”

Emotion clutched me. Heart and soul. I looked down at the food. “You don’t have to feed me, Penny.” The words grated free.

“But what if I want to?”

Warily, I gave her a rigid nod. “Thank you.”

A tiny smile pulled at her mouth. “You’re welcome.” She turned away and headed back for the counter. “Coffee?” she asked from over her shoulder.

Disbelief left me on a shot of low laughter.

“Tell me you don’t drink coffee.”

Her head shook as her body swayed. Her demeanor a thousand pounds lighter. “Of course not, silly, I made it for my mom. Because she takes such good care of me.”

I got it, what she was saying. But in the end, I couldn’t blame my mother for who I had become. For what she’d gotten involved in that had been passed on to me.

It was all on me.

A second later, Penny was back with a steaming cup of coffee, sliding it over beside my plate. She grabbed a container of creamer and some sugar and did the same.

God, this kid.

Mia threaded in her.

Goodness and purity.

“You’re the best, Penny. This is exactly what I came in here looking for this morning.”

Redness flushed her face. “Really?”

“Yep. And you should probably call me Leif. The only person who calls me Mr. Godwin is . . . well . . . no one.”