Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

35. Chapter 35

M ovement on the bed from behind rouses me from sleep. I blink my eyes open, confused where I am.

It takes me a moment to register the dim room as the guest room in my parents’ house, but I recognise the tattooed back of the man walking into the bathroom immediately.

“What time is it?” I ask, voice thick with sleep as Creed returns, pulling on his sweatshirt.

“Too early,” he comments, and comes to kneel by the bed with a soft smile. “Go back to sleep, princess.”

I reach out and caress his face, enjoying the prickly sensation of the slight facial hair he’s sporting. “Where are you going?”

He cups my hand on his face, his expression dropping. “Today is… Lucas’ funeral.”

My heart aches, the memories rushing back, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Oh.”

“It’s a small service. I’m going on your behalf.”

“No,” I say and push up from the bed. “I want to go.”

“Everyone knows you just got out of the hospital,” he reasons, but still helps me to sit up.

“I want to be there,” I say, flipping the blankets off. “I want to say goodbye.”

“Okay, but it’s way too early to go now.”

“When does it start?”

“Nine at St. John’s Church. It’s five-thirty now.”

I frown. “Why are you leaving now, then?”

He smiles and stands. “I’m not exactly dressed for a funeral. I have to go past my house.”

“Where do you live?” I ask, realising now I still have no idea where Creed lives.

He holds his hands out, and I take them to use as support to stand. “I live inner south-west by the beach. About ten to fifteen minutes from the club.”

“The beach,” I sigh. “One of my favourite places.”

“It’s directly in front of my house,” Creed says as he walks me to the ensuite. “Sunsets are pretty insane from the balcony.”

I groan appreciatively. “Maybe I shouldn’t visit. I’ll never leave.”

“You can move in if you want,” Creed says casually.

I halt at the threshold of the bathroom and look up at him. “What?”

He hits me with a wide, dimpled grin. “Offer’s there, princess.”

“It’s too…soon, isn’t it?”

Creed shrugs. “I don’t know the ‘move in’ protocol. I’ve never asked someone before.”

That news shocks me more than the offer itself. “Ever?”

He shakes his head. “Never wanted someone in my space until now.”

“I take up a lot of space,” I say off-handedly.

He leans forward and kisses me. “You can have as much of my space as you want. You can take all of it.”

This man.

“You’ve got to stop with all this poetry,” I comment as I reach up to return his kiss. “But I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” He walks me into the bathroom, turning on the light as we enter, then leads me to the vanity.

I pick up his helmet and turn to face him. “Pick me up in a couple of hours?”

He takes the helmet, but he looks hesitant. “I can help you get ready, then go.”

“If you do that, we’ll be late. We can tackle another shower situation tonight.” I give him a smile. “And I’m pretty sure my mum is more experienced with eyeliner.”

He nods in agreement, then leans in for one more quick kiss. “See you later, princess.”

I’ve had tears leaking down my face this entire funeral service. I push the black sunglasses further up my nose and wrap my arm tighter around Creed’s as we follow at the back of the slow procession down the centre aisle of St. John’s church toward the exit.

We follow Del and Enzo, with Father Michael following behind us. He didn’t preside over the funeral today, instead attending as a fellow mourner.

I didn’t know Lucas served in the army until we entered the church and saw a sea of dark khaki-brown uniforms.

To my surprise, Father Michael is one of the men and women dressed in military uniform, but he also wears a dark green beret along with a small group who stood dutifully with him in the church during service.

We’re the last people in the line as we make it to the back of the church, where two women accept handshakes and hugs of sympathy from the crowd.

One of them is much older, dressed in a black dress and coat with a wide-brimmed hat and sitting on a chair by the door. I’m assuming this might be Lucas’ mum or older female relative. The other woman standing next to her is very young in comparison. I’d say mid-to-late twenties.

The fitted black jacket and dress pants she’s wearing showcases her height and fit build as she accepts condolences, with her long, dark brown hair pinned away from her face, falling straight down her back, and red-rimmed blue eyes that carry so much sadness.

I think this is Henriette.

We make it to the two women and Enzo steps forward first.

“Henri,” he says as he hugs her, confirming my suspicions. “Condolences.”

“Thank you, Enzo,” she says with a rich, husky voice. I’m not sure if she always sounds like that or if it’s from the emotions.

He pulls back. “If you need anything at all, all you have to do is reach out.”

Her bottom lip wobbles as she dips her chin, averting her eyes, and nods.

Enzo lets her go, and introduces Henri to Del, before moving on to the older woman. Del and Henri embrace briefly, then we step up behind her.

I take off my sunglasses. “We’ve never met, but I’m Scarlett—”

“Scar,” Henri says. “Dad told me about you.”

“Really?”

She graces me with the smallest smile; the expression reminds me of Lucas’ ghost smile. “He told me you’re much easier to teach to drive.”

Fresh tears leak down my face, and I fling my arms around Henri, swallowing the pain in my ribs. She accepts the embrace, squeezing me back just as hard as she cries into my shoulder. We pull back after a long moment and I look up into her eyes.

“He loved you so much,” I croak out. “Thank you for sharing him with me for a brief time.”

“He was fond of you, too,” she whispers. “And really proud of you.”

I start crying again but hold it together enough to exchange contact information with Henri and introduce Creed to her. He offers his condolences, and then we shift toward the older woman who Henri tells us is, in fact, Lucas’ mother.

We both offer our sympathies and then step away.

“Marius,” Henri says in barely a whisper. Who’s Marius?

I turn to see her collapse into Father Michael’s arms, sobbing loudly.

“I’m so sorry, Henri,” he says, holding her close.

Creed nudges us forward, and we leave the church. We eventually make it down the front stairs and head toward Creed’s car.

“I think I’m dehydrated from all the crying,” I comment as we walk down the sidewalk.

“We can grab something on the way back to your parent’s place,” he says.

I look up at Creed. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Of course,” he says without hesitation.

I nod as we continue slowly to the car. Back to my parent’s place—that big, lavish estate with all the comforts anyone could ask for. A place that I considered solace from a life of terror. It’s filled with so many memories, good and not so.

Thinking about it now, though, it feels too big. Overwhelming. It’s a safe place, but no longer my safe place.

Maybe we should go back to my apartment? No. No matter how many times I added, subtracted, or moved things there, it always felt like something was missing. It was cozy, but empty.

Do I even have a safe space anymore?

It’s no longer a place.

“Were you…serious this morning?” I ask hesitantly as we stop at the car. I look up at Creed.

“About you moving into my place?” he asks.

I nod.

“Definitely,” he says, his eyes searching my face, trying to decipher where I’m going with this conversation.

I swallow down the tightness in my throat. “Trial run?”

His whole face lights up. “Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

After collecting my bag and getting a reminder from my dad about my medication schedule, Creed drives us over to my apartment so I can get some of my things.

My instincts were right about this place when I packed for more than just one night at Creed’s place and closed up the apartment. I have to work out where I want to live sooner rather than later.

By the early afternoon, we’re driving through the city and into the south-western suburbs heading toward the beach.

The smell of the ocean through my open window calls to me on a soul level, and I relax into the seat, watching the afternoon sun twinkle off the water.

“Seriously, how do you leave this place ever?” I ask as we pass a yacht club, their piers lined with sailing boats.

“It’s going to be a lot harder with you around,” Creed comments as he slows down and flicks on his indicator.

He turns into the left driveway of a huge building, then reaches into the centre console and hits a garage remote button. The building is sleek and modern, like stacked rectangles made of white rendered brick, black steel and windows. It looks like it’s split into two residences, each with mirroring driveways and entrances.

The garage door slides open to reveal a neat space with storage shelving on one side, a workbench with a wall of tools along the back, and Creed’s Harley parked to the other side.

Creed pulls his car in and hops out before hitting the garage remote button again. Before the light of outside can disappear, Creed has already turned on the light and opened my door.

I get out of the car tentatively, and he hooks my arm in his, helping me to the interior door.

We enter the hallway with a staircase going up to the next level and the entrance, which has lots of frosted glass letting in heaps of light. The walls are white, and the floors are polished light wood as we turn left and walk further into the house.

“Wow,” I breathe as we enter a huge open living, dining and kitchen space.

The kitchen is a black and white dream, contrasting and complementing the light walls and floor. Beyond the island bench is a huge U-shaped couch that takes up a lot of the floor space, facing a large wall-mounted television. Next to the couch is an eight-seater wood dining table with black chairs.

The whole space is lit by a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a small outdoor area. Half of it is grass and the other half is a deck with an outdoor seating area.

“There’s a powder room off the hall, and all the bedrooms and bathrooms are upstairs,” Creed says, leading me past the kitchen.

“This place is stunning,” I comment.

Creed’s satisfactory grin is wide as he makes me sit on his plush light grey couch. Deep barking from somewhere grabs Creed’s attention.

“I’m glad you’re sitting,” he cryptically says and then walks over to the back doors and slides a section open.

A blur of grey and white appears from somewhere and a beautiful, big dog jumps up on Creed’s legs.

The dog is all muscle, with dark grey and white patchwork short fur, and he looks like some sort of bully breed.

“Who is this?” I ask as Creed gives the beautiful beefy boy an abundance of pets whilst the dog tries to take him to the ground with his returning affection.

“This is Cookie,” Creed says.

“Rude that you didn’t tell me you had a dog,” I jest.

Creed chuckles, grabbing Cookie’s black leather collar and nudging him off his legs. “He’s not mine. He’s my neighbour’s dog.”

“You have the dog equivalent to Mr. Freckles,” I comment as Creed leads Cookie over, holding onto the eager dog tightly.

Cookie pulls toward me, and I hold my hand out so he can sniff me. He skips straight to licking my fingers.

“Gentle, Cookie,” Creed commands and he tentatively releases his collar. Cookie rushes over and plants his butt on my feet and rests his head on my thigh, panting happily.

I give Cookie the two-handed pats he deserves all over his huge face, surprised that his fur is silky and not coarse. “How does he get into your yard?”

Creed takes a seat next to me. “He started digging under the fence after Leslie, my neighbour, broke her hip a year ago and she wasn’t able to take him out as much. After the third time he did it, I cut a hole in the fence so he can come and go as he pleases.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” I say, leaning into Creed’s side.

He shrugs and drapes an arm along the couch behind me. “As you accurately surmised, I’m a dog person. But with the club and such, I don’t want to commit to one if I can’t give it the life it deserves. This is a win-win-win situation for me, Cookie, and Leslie.”

I smile, continuing my Cookie-loving. “And me.”

He hums in agreement. “Bonus of staying here is definitely Cookie.”

I look at him. “I think I’m going to really like it here.”

Creed leans down and kisses me. “Welcome home, princess.”