Burn (The Sinclair Falls Novels Book 1) Read online

  Burn

  A Sinclair Falls Novel

  Shae Mallak

  To You.

  Wherever you are.

  © Copyright 2019 Shae Mallak

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Photo Courtesy of Canva,

  Design by Megan Salfrank

  ONE

  "You did what?" I shot to my feet and stared at my father in utter disbelief. He was sweating and wringing his hands nervously because of the large brute of a man hovering behind him, delaying an explanation.

  My gaze flicked up to Jonah Carson, who stood a head taller than my father and filled the doorway like a bear trying to squeeze into a cave that was too small. His hair was chopped short and a shade somewhere between dirty blonde and light brown. He crossed his thick arms over his chest, accentuating his scowl and the large dragon tattoo that curled up his left arm and disappeared beneath his black sleeve. He caught me staring and flexed teasingly, his emerald eyes glinting. I quickly refocused my attention back to my dad.

  "How does this even happen?" I asked. "Who in the world sells their children to a loan shark?"

  "I'm not a loan shark," Jonah commented evenly. He didn't even try to refute the selling his children part, I noted.

  "I'm pretty sure that's worse," I shot back. "Dad—" I gaped. "What happened?"

  Dad stammered over his words incoherently for several minutes while we all waited expectantly. He glanced sheepishly at Ava and Addis on the sofa, momentarily distracted from their game and staring wide-eyed at him and the intimidating stranger behind him.

  "Guys," I said to the twins, "Take it into the other room."

  "But I wanna hear—" Addis protested. He stuck out his lower lip in a picturesque pout, his big, brown eyes pleading with me to let him stay.

  "Out," I insisted, pointing to the doorway.

  Ava jumped up readily, video game in hand, and skipped to the door, pausing to blink up at Jonah, who shifted out of the way. "How tall are you?" she asked curiously, tipping her head back to see his face.

  Jonah leaned down with an amused grin that twisted one side of his mouth higher than the other, revealing a dimple in his cheek. "How tall do you think I am?" he asked her.

  "Oh, at least seven-foot!" she declared confidently, her eyes glittering with fascination. "Are you half-giant?" she asked next. "I read a story once about a guy who was—"

  "Ava," I scolded her. She stopped mid-babble and blinked at me with the same perfected pout as her brother. "Go on," I prompted with my best stern look.

  "I'm not a giant," Jonah told Ava in an exaggeratedly low voice. "But I think I have a great-uncle who was one." Ava gasped then giggled when Jonah winked at her. She glanced back at me and then at Dad, neither of us diverted by the anecdote, and then scurried out of the room, followed close behind by her brother.

  "Dad," I sighed once they were gone. "Start from the beginning." I sank back down into the chair and waited patiently. I wasn't in any hurry—the longer he took to tell his tale, the more time I had before Jonah Carson carted me off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what with me. Actually, I had a fairly good idea what he wanted to do judging by the look he was giving me from across the room.

  "I'm trying to fix it," Dad said sadly. "Really—I'll fix this whole thing and you'll be back here before you know it." He was so eager to assure me that everything was going to be okay, but the brooding half-giant lurking in the living room convinced me otherwise.

  "Why don't I believe you?" I remarked, rolling my eyes. "I've heard that excuse a thousand times, Dad! What was it this time? A poker game gone bad? You needed collateral for another loan? You already have two mortgages out on the house; the bank decide they're taking human lives now in exchange for money?" I spat sarcastically.

  "Actually, you're surprisingly close," Jonah shrugged, another crooked grin tweaking one corner of his mouth.

  I shot him a glare. "I didn't ask you," I growled. He held up his hands in mock surrender, then leaned back casually against the doorjamb as if he wasn't about to take a girl away from her family. "Dad?" I prompted.

  His head dropped in shame, his chin against his chest, the bald spot on the back of his head flashing in the light of the ceiling fan. "I'm sorry, Evie," he murmured. "I messed up—real bad, Evie." He looked back up at me with the same big, pleading brown eyes as his son. "I know it don't seem like it now, but Mr. Carson here is saving us!"

  "I'll face homelessness and starvation rather than face him alone," I sneered. This was how horror stories started, I thought grimly. Or some messed up gothic novel—a devilish rogue whisking me away to ravish me in some gloomy, secluded place.

  "It's a bit more serious than that, Miss Aberdeen," Jonah commented. I glared at him again but his face remained serious.

  "He's right, Evie," Dad said. "Mr. Carson is saving our lives—all of us. Ava and Addis too!"

  "You didn't sell them away too, did you?" I cried, my anger rising at the idea.

  "No," Dad denied quickly. "No, I would never—"

  "But you would sell me," I deduced, interrupting his sniveling protest. "Got it. Thanks, Pops," I said with a sharp nod. "So how much am I worth?" I asked, pinning Jonah with my fierce gaze. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at my question but didn't answer it. "How much did you put up to save my father's sorry behind?" I asked again. "How much does one human life go for these days?"

  There were a few moments of tense silence before he gave the amount, his voice low and quiet. He sounded almost regretful and I would've believed it too if he didn't slide his hungry gaze over me from head to toe a moment later. I glared back at him.

  "How could you?" I asked, turning my glare to Dad. "Do I even want to know who—"

  "No," Jonah answered quickly, his face set in firm seriousness again. "You don't."

  "I'm sorry, Evie," Dad whimpered. "I'm so sorry! It was the only way! I was only trying to save—"

  "I know," I sighed, holding up a hand to stop his excuses. "No more gambling, Dad," I admonished. "If I'm gonna be gone to—" I looked at Jonah for insight on my destination. His face was blank, giving away nothing. "Wherever," I muttered. "You gotta clean up your act for the twins. I won't be around to mop up your messes anymore. You gotta take care of them—"

  "I will! I will! I promise!" Dad nodded eagerly. "I will—I'll clean up and pay back every penny! I promise, Evie!"

  I wanted to believe him. Somewhere inside me there was a little girl who wanted to rush into her daddy's arms and trust every word. But the cynical adult I'd become cast a dark shadow of doubt over the childish hope that was hard to see past.

  "I know you'll try," I said softly. It was as much as I could give him. I transferred my attention to Jonah, my prison warden and master for the unforeseen future. "Will you allow me one final night with my family or do you insist on hauling me off this moment?" I asked.

  "By all means," he replied congenially. "Stay with your family tonight. Pack only a single suitcase of clothes; everything else you'll need will be supplied. We'll leave in the morning. But Miss Aberdeen," he added with a note of warning, "I don't intend to let you out of my sight anytime soon. Not until I'm certain."

  "Certain of what, Mr. Carson?" I inquired, trying to sound more bored than insulted and failing.

  "That you're in love with me," he said seriously. I gawked at him in stunned silence while he continued. "I won't interfere in your evening, Miss Aberdeen," he assured me. "Just keeping a careful watch on what is mine."

  "I don't belong to you or to anyone else," I scowled, finally finding my tongue again.

  "On the contrary," he retorted calmly. "You've been legally mine since approximately four this mor
ning." He casually checked his watch like he was calculating exactly how long I'd been legally bound to him.

  "You strike business deals at four in the morning?" I cried at my father, grasping for something to aim my anger at besides Jonah's calm face.

  "Time was of the essence," Dad said weakly. "It was lucky Mr. Carson found me when he did—"

  "He found you?"

  I bounced my gaze to Jonah and back again, trying to understand. Jonah owned me like I was a piece of furniture to adorn his house yet he spoke of love. Dad was in terrible debt with some unknown, shady character who supposedly wanted his life in exchange for the money he couldn't pay—and Jonah Carson, of all people, came to his aid at the ungodly hour of four a.m.

  My head was reeling from everything I was hearing, afraid to think too hard about what exactly it meant for me. My future was fuzzy at best, not knowing where I was going or for how long, only that Jonah was intent on being glued to my side for the duration. Unless my father kept his word and paid him back—which would take years at best—or Jonah's words came true and I did, in fact, fall in love with him. I wasn't sure which scenario seemed more ludicrous!

  "So what?" I pinned Jonah with another glare. "You heard of his plight and decided to take advantage of a desperate man? For what purpose?" I challenged. "You bail him out and in exchange you get a woman to warm your bed?"

  I spat the accusation at Jonah and watched him glower back at me, straightening from his casual pose and stretching to his full, imposing height with a fearsome look on his face aimed directly at me.

  "What, you can't get a woman any other way than through blackmail and monetary manipulation?" I couldn't seem to stop the rant that poured from my lips.

  Dad shook as Jonah took a threatening step forward, slinking out of the man's way, his frightened gaze flickering between the two of us, but he didn't protest or try to stop the argument. Jonah's eyes burned as he scowled at me, rolling his shoulders slowly as he neared like he had an uncomfortable tension between his shoulder blades.

  "I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Carson," I continued, "There are plenty of women down on Bakersfield Avenue that would be more than willing for a pretty penny—"

  Jonah closed the distance between us in two swift steps, looming over me with a dark, dangerous expression on his face. I heard stories of Jonah Carson—few of them good ones—but wasn't certain until that moment if they were true. As he towered over me, close enough to snap my neck with one quick move of his hand and yet not touching me even a little, I was sure all the tall-tales of the man were accurate.

  "Let's get one thing clear, Miss Aberdeen," he snarled. His breath was hot on my face and the fine hair on my skin prickled at his closeness but still he didn't touch me. "When you share my bed it will be because you want to be there. I don't pretend to be a good man," he growled. "But I don't force myself on women and I don't pay for their company. Believe me, Miss Aberdeen, I have no need for such measures."

  "Then you have no need of me," I replied with as much calm as I could muster.

  "On the contrary," he denied. "I need you very much and, someday, you will need me as well."

  "I doubt that," I scoffed with false bravado.

  "Nevertheless, we leave in the morning. I suggest you start packing and saying your goodbyes." He straightened and took a small step aside.

  "You rotten cad," I hissed. "What kind of man takes a woman as collateral?"

  "I have no doubt you will find out soon enough," he replied stoically. "After you, Miss Aberdeen," he said with a mocking smile and gestured to the door into the hallway. I stomped past him, ignoring my father's whimpering moans, leaving the living room to search for Addis and Ava. As promised, Jonah followed me at a polite distance, my new shadow.

  TWO

  I found my younger siblings in their bedroom, both sprawled across Ava's bed, engrossed in their video games. Addis muttered an ten-year-old's version of a curse as he squirmed, bending and twisting with the game and punching the buttons with excited vigor.

  "No!" Ava shouted, pounding the buttons. "No-no-no-no!"

  "Yes!" Addis cried triumphantly, pumping his arms in the air. "Woo-hoo! Winner, winner, chicken dinner!"

  Ava groaned loudly and glared at her brother. "I wanna rematch!"

  "No way!" Addis shook his head.

  "Come on!" Ava whined. "One more!" I stepped further into the room, catching their attention. Immediately Ava cried, "Evie! Tell Addis to rematch me!"

  "I'm with Addis on this one," I chuckled. "He wants to keep his title and I don't blame him."

  "You're supposed to be on my side!" she protested.

  "Why is that?" I asked, cocking my head to one side in amusement. I perched on the edge of Addis's bed opposite them.

  "Because you're a girl!" Ava whined.

  "So? What does that have to do with it?" I challenged, holding back my laughter.

  "Because!" she cried indignantly. "Girls gotta stick together!"

  "Even if they're wrong?" I asked curiously. She frowned and stuttered the beginning of an argument but stopped trying after three tries. When she finally gave up I chuckled good-naturedly at her. "Don't be such a sore loser, Ava," I suggested. "Or people won't want to play with you anymore."

  "Addis will always play with me," she declared, lifting her chin in the air with confidence. "Right, Ad?"

  "Sure," Addis shrugged. "I got your back," he said, then started a new game that stole his attention.

  "See?" Ava said. "We got each other's back."

  "Yeah," I nodded. My throat tightened as my emotions threatened to reach the surface. Ava was strong; I knew that. She would take care of Addis and vice versa. I shouldn't have to worry about them, but I did. For three years I'd been taking care of them like the mother we no longer had and now I would be gone too. I wanted to tell them I loved them, I would miss them, and to be sure to lock the door every night. I wanted to pull them both into a hug and never let go. Ava joined the game, newly distracted from her temporary tantrum and her motherly big sister. So much for a heart to heart chat.

  "Don't stay up too late," I told them. I stood and crossed to the other bed, kissing both of them on the head with a brief protest from Addis paired with a sound of disgust. "Love you too, Addis," I muttered. "Good night, you two," I said and turned to leave. Jonah was waiting by the door, not even pretending to give us any privacy. "So you're just always gonna...lurk?" I murmured when I reached him.

  "I go where you go," he answered. "Until I'm certain—"

  "Yeah, I got that part," I scoffed, squeezing past him into the hallway. My shoulder brushed across his chest as I passed, shooting a hot tingle down my arm into my fingers. I clenched my fist then shook it out like I could shake out the feeling that was making its way into my center.

  Jonah reach out and grabbed my hand, holding me back. "You'll never shake me, Evelyn," he said softly. "You can try as hard as you like."

  "Thanks for the warning," I muttered, and tugged my hand out of his grip. He didn't try to fight it, letting me slip away down the hall, following a few seconds later. "Are you gonna watch me all night too, or am I entitled to a closed door?"

  "I'll be on the other side of it," he said behind me. I was grateful for at least that small concession, but I stubbornly didn't voice my thanks. "I told you, when you share my bed—"

  "Please stop," I said abruptly, stopping the parade down my hallway and holding up a hand. "Just...stop."

  Jonah took my hand and raised it to his lips, brushing a simple, searing kiss against my knuckles. "Good night, Evelyn Aberdeen," he said, keeping his eyes glued to mine. I blinked dumbly at him a few times as he stepped closer, his chest brushing against me.

  He reached behind me and my breath caught in my throat for a fleeting moment as he bent forward, his head close to mine. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me and my heart beat faster as I tried to decide if I was going to let him or pull away. My insides twisted and burned, making me uncertain and afraid. The se
cond passed and I stepped back at the same time I heard the door to my bedroom click open behind me.

  "Good night, Mr. Carson," I murmured, and ducked into my bedroom and slammed the door in his face.

  I didn’t sleep well that night. Knowing the intimidating Jonah Carson was right outside my bedroom door, ready to haul me off at first light like the possession he believed me to be understandably kept me awake. I felt guilty for my anger toward Dad, even if he did deserve it, and regretted not pressing for a more heartfelt goodbye with the twins. They would never admit to loving and missing their older sister. My relationship with my siblings had grown incredibly complicated since Mom’s passing. Where Dad failed to parent I stepped in and the closer they got to puberty the more they hated me. I wondered, if Jonah were to permit phone calls, if they would even care enough to answer or reply back to messages.

  Just how completely did Jonah intend to cut me off from my family? How far would he take this bogus contract of his with my father—would I never see them again unless Dad paid him back, or would I be permitted holidays and weekends like some crazy, twisted custody agreement?

  What bothered me more than anything, however, was his intense, sultry confidence about how our relationship would end. He was so certain I would fall in love with him—and fall into his bed! We barely knew each other...at least, I barely knew him, anyway. Who knew what sort of creepy, stalker research he’d done on me. If he knew enough about my father to approach him with a deal, how much more did he know about me? Enough to know he wanted me, anyway.

  I snuggled deeper under the covers at the thought. I couldn’t deny that Jonah Carson was an attractive man, but everyone knew that. His name was peppered all over the city, usually in association with some barely-legal business deals. People tended to disagree about his legitimacy, but they did agree that he was incredibly attractive.

  Dad always talked about him with a kind of legal respect, talking at length about some loophole the man manipulated for his own gain. “He’d make a damn good lawyer,” he always declared after reading the man's latest business escapades. “A shady one—but a damn good one! I don’t want to ever be on his bad side, for damn certain!” I heard the exclamation more times than I could count at the breakfast table while Dad perused the morning paper and Mom slipped another pancake on his plate or more coffee in his mug.