Page 14 of The Eraser

I'm not sure how long the music goes on for, but she doesn't stop, moving across the floor as though she's an angel, silent as she dances. I'm captivated even more than before. I shouldn't be. She's fourteen, for fuck's sake. Fourteen and innocent. A man like me would taint her world, ruin her. I'd destroy her even more than she already is.

The music stops and she drops to the floor in an exhausted heap. "I know you're there," she says, breathing heavily. "I knew the moment you entered the room."

I grin as she turns to look at me. Her face is red and blotchy, her chest rising and falling as she watches me closely, those green eyes of hers intense and filled with so much pain. "You didn't go to the pub," I say.

She presses her hands to the floor and rises to her feet. "Dad didn't want me to," she tells me. "I couldn't deal with all those people anyway."

"What do you mean your da didn't want you to?" I ask, needing to know what the fuck that bastard Thomas said to her. I've never liked that man. He's a fucking gobshite. The fucker thinks he's God's gift to mankind just because he married Jer's sister. Had he not married Patty, there wouldn’t have been a fucking hope in hell of him becoming Jer's right-hand man.

She lifts her shoulders and shrugs. "Did you follow me?" she asks softly.

I smirk. "No, but I happened to be across the street when you scurried past. I was surprised. On a day like today, you should have been with your family."

"No, I shouldn't," she says with a heavy sigh. "Other than Jer, no one else gives a fuck about me," she slashes out, and I find it endearing that she curses with such venom. "Before Mam died, I hadn't seen any of them since Jer's birthday last year. Hell, none of them have spoken to me in years other than Jerry. The only time they do is if there’s a family gathering. So tell me, Stephen, why on earth would I want to be around them?"

"Anger is natural. You've lost your ma. But don't push away those who want to help."

She shakes her head and moves toward her bag. I watch as she pulls on her hoodie and shoes. "Do they want to help for me or for themselves?" she asks, her voice no longer filled with that anger. "They all have lives. They have things they need to do. No one needs to worry about me. I'm fine."

Bullshit. She's fucking far from it. The pain she feels is etched into every feature on her face. She's crumbling under it, but she's not going to let anyone in. I know that all too well. When things get tough, you batter down the hatches and ride the storm.

"What are you doing here, Stephen?" she asks, her green eyes wide and uncertain.

I like that she's not hiding. She doesn't act scared of me, which a lot of people do. I've earned a reputation. I've committed heinous crimes and I've enjoyed doing every single one. "Curiosity. You've piqued my interest, Little Dancer."

"There's something wrong with you, isn't there? I mean, I've heard the stories about you. Not to mention, Aunt Nicola said to stay away."

I'm not surprised Nicola warned her off. As close as I am to Callie and Maverick, I'm still a killer, and they all know that. Though only Jer and Freddie know when I began killing. They’re the only ones who know my da was my first victim.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" I ask with a raised brow, loving that she stares back without blinking. "You don't cower in fear. You don't try to hide. Why is that?"

"Is there a reason I should?" she fires back.

I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "Oh, Little Dancer, you have no idea the depths of Hell that I belong to."

"Doesn't the majority of my family belong there, too?"

She's got a point. "You think they're bad? They have nothing on me." Not even Maverick who's probably the deadliest man I know is anywhere near how deranged I truly am. "I am the man the Boogeyman's afraid of. I'm the reason people sleep with the light on."

"Sometimes," she whispers as she hitches her bag onto her shoulder, "those who are deemed dangerous are really the ones who are the safest." She flashes me a soft as fuck smile and moves past me out of the room.

I let her leave. If I don't, I could find myself becoming obsessed with her. There is a connection here—a pull. Jessica Grace is someone I should steer clear of. Her innocence and the way she doesn't give a fuck about who I am will only make me become obsessed.

I know how fucked up I am. It’s not right to obsess over a fourteen-year-old girl. Her ma’s just died, for fuck’s sake.

Three years and she's legal. Seventeen is the legal age of consent here in Ireland.

Fuck. I need to keep my distance. That girl is pure temptation.

ChapterFive

JESSICA

"Jess,"I hear Mallory whisper. "That's Stephen Maguire," she tells me. "He's a natural born killer. Have you not heard the rumors about him? He'd kill anyone, including his own ma, if it meant he was being paid."

I look up at the ceiling as I lie on my bed, my phone to my ear as I take a steadying breath. I'm on a three-way call with my best friends. Mallory and Chloe have been my rock throughout it all. Chloe is Callie's step-daughter, although Chloe sees her as her real mam. I love that she has her, because Chloe's real mam was a bitch. She was evil.

"She's right," Chloe sighs. "He's Mam's best friend and a family friend, but even Da has said he's dangerous. That he's one of the most violent men in Ireland."

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