SBMC Miami Box set - Erin Trejo Page 0,158

wonder what his life is like outside of this place, or if he even has a life outside of here.

When I hear the door close I shove out of the bed, grab the IV pole, and drag it along with me. I slip my boots on and walk out of the room towards the hallway. I can hear music playing and I smirk when I recognize the rock music. That helps explain the dreads.

I round the corner and watch her for a second as she tosses some trash into the garbage can. I can’t help but let my eyes wander over her body. She’s fit. It looks like she works out. Fuck if I know.

“Jesus,” she screams when she spins around and sees me standing there.

Her eyes roam over me from head to toe. Surprisingly she doesn’t stop to linger on the scars on the right side of my face. I earned the name Monster when I was twelve. Not only was I bigger than most kids, but I sported burn scars over the right side of my face and neck thanks to a meth explosion in my mom’s kitchen. Everyone feared me after that. They always looked at me like I was a monster and the name just stuck. Not her though, she isn’t looking at me the way everyone else does. She’s looking at me the way a woman looks at a man.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I tell her while watching her breathing slowly return back to normal.

“It’s fine. I almost forgot I had a house guest,” she says while smiling at me. Her bright blue eyes shine lined with dark black makeup.

“You don’t look at me like the rest of them,” I mutter under my breath.

It’s bothering me. When a woman looks at me like I’m the scariest thing she’s ever seen I can handle it. I’m used to that. She’s just looking at me like I’m, well me.

“What do you mean? The rest of who?” She asks, her brows pull in as her eyes narrow and she looks into my eyes.

My eyes, not my face. I’m so used to the opposite that I don’t know how to handle her. I’m on edge just being here, but this makes it so much worse. This is why I wanted to stay in the dark where I belong.

“Paul’s worried about you,” ignoring her question I ask one of my own. Her features relax as she smiles back at me.

“He’s always worried,” she replies as she continues to clean. “What’s he worried about now? Am I spending too much time here again?”

My eyes follow her every movement as she lifts boxes and pushes things away.

“Yeah. He thinks you don’t have any friends or family,” I add. She sets the box on her hip before she turns to look at me.

“I don’t have any family or friends, I’m more of a loner. Friends are nothing but complications and drama. That’s just not who I am.”

If nothing else, this girl is honest. I like that. Hell, I like her.

“That seems about right. You grow up around here?”

She shakes her head and walks past me with the box still on her hip. I follow her down the hall when she moves into another room.

“I grew up in a lot of places. I don’t really call any one place home. What about you? You from around here?” she asks but she never looks over at me. Avoidance is always easier than the truth and she is currently avoiding the shit out of me.

“Nah. I moved down here from California.”

She turns to look at me with a slight smile.

“Really? Trading one hot climate for another?”

She seems genuinely interested.

“Somethin’ like that. Too many old ghosts back there,” I say as I point to my face.

She nods as if she understands before she leans back against the exam table and crosses her arms over her chest.

“What happened to you?”

“My mom was runnin’ a meth lab with her boyfriend. Shit blew up when they were both fucked up out of their minds. I was a little too close to the action,” I tell her as I remember that day like it was only yesterday. I can still remember the smell of my burning skin as I screamed and cried out for help.

“Christ that had to be scary for a kid.”

“It was. It was made even worse when my mom didn’t even wake up to find out what had happened. She died in that house.” Her eyes

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