Page 13 of Endgame

Slipping my hand into my faithful backpack, I retrieved my cell and swiped my thumb across the screen.

8:45pm

Great. I was a night owl. I struggled with sleeping. I usually had too much on my mind – not to mention too much work to get done – to find any sort of rest before 2am.

Deciding to take a walk around the house, I slipped on my Converse and tucked my backpack in the back of the closet before stepping out. I didn’t know these people, and sure, I didn’t have much in the line of capital value to steal, but my shit belonged to me.

There were five rooms on the second level of the house. One of which belonged to me, the other Rourke. Nosy, I peeked into the other rooms and found an enormous bathroom with the biggest egg shaped tub I’d ever laid eyes on. Another door led to what appeared to be a game room. There was a large L-shaped, black leather couch, a pool table, a dart board, and a big ass television mounted to the wall. Rourke’s man cave, I decided. The fifth door was at the opposite end of the hallway to my bedroom and it was locked.

Opposite to that, there was narrow marble staircase leading up to another door. Of course, I had to check it out. Hurrying up to the top of the steps, I reached a hand out only to snatch it back when the sound of my mother moaning and panting filled my ears.

“Oh, Gabe, yes! You always know how I like it…”

Scarred for life, I retreated down the steps, nauseated and heaving. So, Mom and Gabe’s room was on the third floor.

As I descended down the staircase to the ground floor, I made a mental note tonevergo up to the third floor and put myself through that mental anguish again. Ugh.

Downstairs, everything was quiet and I immersed myself in the sound of silence. It sure as hell beat the sound of Gabe giving it to my mother. Ugh.Don’t hurl, Merc. Block it out.

Shuddering, I wandered around, opening every door I walked past. In my travels, I found a sitting room, the dining room we’d had our dinner in earlier tonight, two empty bedrooms,threemore bathrooms, a gigantic kitchen, and Amelia’s room. “I’m so sorry,” I muttered when I opened the bedroom door and noticed her sitting on her bed. “I didn’t know this was your room.”

“It’s okay,” she replied with a serene smile. Placing the book she had in her hands down beside her, she waved me in.

I shook my head and smiled. I wasn’t going in there. I wasn’t ready for a friendship with her and I knew she would offer me one. “I really wasn’t trying to snoop,” I heard myself explain. “I’m just trying to find my feet. This house is ridiculously big.”

“It is,” she agreed, her voice a softer female version of her brother’s southern drawl. “I bet it’s daunting; coming here?”

“Understatement of the century,” I shot back with a smirk, remaining by the door. “This place is the polar opposite of where I came from.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, looking around at her pink painted walls. “Our last apartment had one bedroom. I slept on the fold out couch in the kitchen slash living room.” I grinned when my eyes landed on the antique looking dressing table, lined with rows of perfumes and lotions. What I would have given to have a dressing table like that when I was fifteen. “We are worlds apart, really.”

“We arefamily,” Amelia corrected, tone gentle. Reaching out, she patted her mattress again. “This is your home now, Mercedes.”

No.

It wasn’t.

This place would never be my home.

Politely declining, I said goodnight to Amelia and closed her bedroom door behind me. I needed some time to digest everything.

Deciding to scope out the beach and get some fresh air, I slipped into the back yard and walked down the steep steps at the back of the house that led to a gate that separated the property from the beach, passing an impressive outdoor pool on my way.

The moment I was on the other side of the gate, I felt a thrum of excitement spark to life inside of me.

The beach was empty.

I had it all to myself.

Reaching down, I kicked off my Converse and socks before picking them up. The sand was grainy and warm and felt delicious against my feet. Wiggling my toes, I exhaled heavily and soaked up the sensations I was feeling.

The ocean was calling to me, seducing me with every wave and moonlit shimmer. Without thinking, I found myself moving towards the shore, drawn to the immerse beauty of freedom.

My hands moved to the hem of my shirt almost instinctively. Whipping it over my head, I tossed the flimsy fabric on the sand beneath me and moved my attention to my jeans. Shrugging them off, I kicked free, leaving them strewn beside my shirt on the sand. The night air nipped at my body, peppering my pale skin with a thin layer of goosebumps.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and took a step forward. Foaming water crushed against my ankles, rising further up my body with every step I took. Soon, I was chest deep and grinning from ear to ear. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here. I had the beach on my doorstep, the water, the sensations around me, and freedom in my cusp.

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