The Reality of Wright and Wrong Read online

  The Reality of Wright and Wrong

  Leddy Harper

  with poetry by

  Kev Murtagh

  Copyright © 2019 by Leddy Harper

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  A Spark to a Flame © 2019 by Kev Murtagh

  Mercy © 2019 by Kev Murtagh

  Brit…

  You amaze me.

  Contents

  A Spark to a Flame

  1. Mercy

  2. Brogan

  3. Mercy

  4. Brogan

  5. Mercy

  6. Brogan

  7. Mercy

  8. Brogan

  9. Mercy

  10. Brogan

  11. Mercy

  12. Brogan

  13. Mercy

  14. Brogan

  15. Mercy

  16. Brogan

  17. Mercy

  18. Brogan

  19. Mercy

  20. Brogan

  21. Mercy

  22. Brogan

  23. Mercy

  24. Brogan

  25. Mercy

  Epilogue

  Mercy

  Painite

  Leddy’s Notes

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Leddy Harper

  A Spark to a Flame

  I sat in comfortable darkness,

  My heart an emptied hole

  Drawing other people's hopes and dreams,

  Scratching them into their souls.

  When first I looked up and saw your spark

  I thought it was too good to be true,

  But as you came closer through the dark

  I realized you could see me too.

  Two tiny sparks in the darkness

  So tiny they could hardly be seen

  So delicate that even to just glance at them

  May cause them both to flee.

  But for fun we brought them together

  As we played the lovers game,

  And as our sparks were tethered

  They erupted into a flame.

  As fingers touched fingers

  As lips touched lips

  As skin touched skin

  As hips touched hips

  You solved the puzzle my heart had encoded

  And as you took me inside of you the universe exploded.

  They say that a flame that burns twice as bright,

  Only burns half as long

  And baby we burned with a furious light,

  But we both knew they weren't wrong.

  To save the pain of burning out

  And both being shattered apart,

  We decided to walk away with neither cry nor shout

  And once more embrace the dark.

  When I turned and walked away from you

  I thought that my light would fade,

  I thought that when our flames went from one back to two

  It would be like walking back to night from day.

  But when I closed my eyes I still saw your light

  Burning like the sun

  And I saw too as I looked inside,

  our flames still burned as one.

  It was then that I knew as I think I had always known

  That I could never walk away,

  It was then that I knew that our sparks had grown

  And became one living flame.

  I knew what was missing from my soul

  And what would ease my pain,

  I knew that you had made me whole

  And why Mercy was your name.

  —Wrong

  1

  Mercy

  The universe has a really sick sense of humor.

  An hour ago, I had everything I’d ever wanted.

  Now, I had nothing but a broken heart and shattered dreams.

  As I stumbled out of the bar, I caught my reflection in the door and groaned. I was a sight to behold. Mascara lined my cheeks in inky rivers, and every hair on my head was out of place. With a tired huff, I shook my head and carried on, not caring that the soles of my high heels slid along the concrete because I couldn’t lift my feet high enough to take proper steps. I should’ve been grateful I could still walk, considering I’d sat at the bar for close to an hour, drowning my sorrows in one drink after another.

  About the only thing I had going for me was the fact that it was late. I wasn’t sure just how late since I didn’t have the faintest idea what time it was. If I had to guess, it was after midnight. With the lights from the bar behind me and streetlamps set far enough apart in front of me, there was a good chance I’d make it out of here without anyone noticing my disheveled appearance.

  There was also a good chance I’d get kidnapped.

  And, after the last hour or so, I’d go willingly.

  Would that still be considered kidnapping?

  I couldn’t have made it more than twenty feet when an older gentleman stopped in front of me—and I use the designation gentleman very loosely. His silver, wiry beard covered half his face while the rest hid in the shadow cast from his Gilligan hat. A large—and likely dirty—trench coat hung on his slumped frame, even though it couldn’t have been cooler than seventy-five degrees.

  “Excuse me, but could I bother you for a cigarette? I’m out.” His voice was gruff, making me think he’d smoked a carton a day for the last eighty-four years.

  Holding my small purse against my chest, I pulled on the zipper to look inside. After staring into the nearly empty bag, unable to see anything in the dark, I remembered I didn’t smoke. I’d never so much as held a cigarette. Truthfully, I had no idea why I even bothered to check in the first place. The answer to his question should’ve been a no-brainer.

  “No. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any.”

  Rather than grumble and move on to the next person, he asked, “Got a few bucks in there you can spare for an old man to get a pack?”

  “Umm…” Once again, I stared into the open pocketbook that I now held closer to my face, as if I were trying to climb in to escape this man. I wasn’t sure what all I had in there, but at this point, I’d give him the entire bag if it meant he’d leave me alone.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to give him anything.

  A deep, booming voice came from over my shoulder, causing me to freeze with my face close to the opening in my purse. “Leave the lady alone. She doesn’t have anything for you tonight, Joe.”

  “S-s-sorry for troubling you, miss.” And with that, Joe scurried away, back to his shopping cart that was parked at the entrance to the alley next to the club.

  “You okay?” Again, the voice drifted into my ear from behind. Except this time, it was softer, quieter, and held none of the bite from a moment ago. “He didn’t take anything from you, did he?”

  Just then, the slightest touch met my lower back, right above the swell of my ass near my side. My body stiffened, though not out of fear. The nerves at the base of my spine began to misfire, sending shockwaves straight to the apex of my thighs. Which turned out to be nothing compared to the heat that enveloped me when I turned around and was struck stupid the stare of the most beautiful creature to have ever walked the earth.

  Yes…beautiful. Beyond hot, more than sexy.

  Leaps and bounds above gorgeous.

  God must’ve won an award the day he made this man.

  “Joe’s harmless,” the stranger continued. “If he’s out of smokes, that’s his own problem. I give him cash every Sunday, and I’m n
ot the only one who looks out for the town’s wanderer. So, he’s either trying to hustle you, or he hasn’t watched his spending this week.”

  His eyes never left mine while he spoke. They were quite mesmerizing. Then a smile slowly formed on his perfect lips, a single dimple popping in his left cheek.

  And I was a goner.

  Part of me wished this was nothing more than a hallucination caused by the ridiculous number of shots I’d consumed, because that would mean I’d get to stare at him for as long as I wanted without weirding him out and running him off.

  Unable to take my focus off his face, I couldn’t pay attention to much other than his impeccably styled hair. It appeared to be cut short on the sides while kept longer on the top, which he wore swept back in a don’t-give-a-fuck fashion. He was metro yet edgy. Preppy with a heavy dose of badass. A dangerous combination of right and wrong.

  “Really, though…are you okay?” He glanced toward the building I’d spent nearly an hour crying in, and the light from the lamppost several feet away hit a small silver ball on the front part of his ear. However, he turned toward me again before I could get a better visual of it. “Leaving? Or just getting some fresh air?”

  Beginning to doubt my hallucination theory, I took a deep breath. It was the only thing I could do to get a grip on reality before I made myself out to be a mute drunk. I glanced to the right, away from the club and toward the light like my answer was somehow down the street and I had to find it. “Oh, uh…leaving.”

  He brought his finger to my face and traced a line from beneath my eye down to my jaw, more than likely following the path of mascara tears. After briefly flicking his gaze toward the bar again, he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger and narrowed his eyes on me. “Did something happen in there?”

  Shaking my head, I pulled out of his hold and waved him off. “Nothing like what you’re thinking.”

  “Okay…” He took a couple steps back, slowly bobbing his head, likely mulling over how much truth my answer held. After glancing to the right and then to the left, up and down the street we stood on, he cautiously returned his attention to me.

  He had shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his dark jeans, and I took him all in. Ink lined both arms from beneath the sleeves of his white tee down past the denim that concealed his fists. More color painted the part of his chest visible above the ribbed V of the shirt, decorating his throat, and from what I could tell, extended around to the back of his neck.

  I needed to look away before—lacking any inhibition in my inebriated state—I stripped him bare, if only to explore every detailed tattoo on his beautiful skin.

  While he gave me his complete attention, nothing else existed as we stood on the sidewalk, facing one another. “You waiting on someone?”

  I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.

  I shook that thought off before I accidentally spilled those words. “No.”

  His tongue peeked out and slid along his lower lip, his head tilting in contemplation—of what, I wasn’t sure. But when he ran his gaze down my body to the teal pumps suffocating my feet, then back up to my eyes, a restrained smirk toying with one side of his mouth, I wanted more than anything to hear his every thought.

  That was…until he spoke. “You aren’t driving, are you?”

  Clearing my throat, I lowered my focus to the cracked pavement beneath his white, unblemished Adidas. “Uh…no. I…um…I don’t have a car. I flew in a couple of days early to surprise my fiancé.”

  Turns out, I was the one surprised.

  Biggest surprise of my life.

  And not in a good way.

  “Oh, is he picking you up?”

  I peered over my shoulder at the bright blue lights along the front of the building that filled people with false promises of a good time awaiting them inside. They should rename the place. Instead of Rulebreakers, it should’ve been called Heartbreakers.

  When I addressed the beautiful stranger again to answer his question, I nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. The way he kept his eyes focused on me, on my face, capturing my gaze and refusing to let it go…it was sexy and overwhelming and powerful, so addicting I never wanted him to blink.

  “Well, you see…he doesn’t know I’m here. And I’d like to keep it that way for now.”

  “Okay. Maybe I’m wrong, but I have a feeling your fiancé is in there.” He stepped closer, pointing over my shoulder. “And the longer we stand out here, beating around the bush, the later it’s going to get. So forgive me if this is too forward, because that’s not my intention. Do you need a ride somewhere? Or someone to keep you company while you wait for Uber to show up? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you out here all alone—especially at this time of night, in this part of town.”

  “I appreciate that, um…” Somehow, we’d carried on a conversation for God knows how long about a homeless man, my fiancé, not wanting to see said fiancé, and the fact that I don’t even live here, yet we’d never exchanged introductions. I had no idea what his name was.

  Intuitively, he held out his hand and said, “Brogan.”

  “Brogan,” I whispered to myself, wanting to feel the way my lips, tongue, and throat worked together to form his name. Then I realized he stood close enough to hear it. And if the grin that slithered across his cheeks meant anything, then he had, in fact, heard it. Rather than embarrass myself more than I already had, I slipped my hand into his. “I’m Mercy.”

  His smile grew wider, and the glow from the streetlight several feet away caught the glint in his eye, drawing me in even more than before. “I’m sorry. I think I might’ve heard you wrong. Did you say your name is Mercy?”

  Thank God for the night sky and subtle veil of darkness; otherwise, there was no way I could’ve kept him from noticing my burning cheeks. Which was odd, considering I’d gone through this song and dance my entire life. My name wasn’t something that had ever embarrassed me before, so I wasn’t sure why his confusion suddenly caught me off guard now.

  “Yeah. It’s a lame story. Trust me. But yes, that’s my name. Mercy Wright.”

  “Well, now that we’ve introduced ourselves, can I help you get home safely?”

  “Doubt it. Home is in Ohio—at least, for now anyway.”

  “All right. Where are you staying while you’re here?”

  Even though Brogan wanted to stop beating around the bush, it seemed we were continuing to do so. Then again, my inability to give him all the facts without waiting to be prompted might’ve had something to do with it.

  “I wasn’t supposed to get here until Sunday, but I switched my flight at the last minute without telling Jordan. I wanted to surprise him by being early—he teases me all the time for being late to everything. We planned to go house hunting next week since the wedding’s in a month. Which, I guess, isn’t happening anymore…” My voice trailed off while I once again glanced over my shoulder as if I could see Jordan on the dance floor through the walls of the building.

  “Does that mean you don’t have a place to stay?”

  Brogan’s concerned baritone freed me from the mental images of Jordan with some girl in a short red dress. “I guess not. I hadn’t planned to stay anywhere other than his townhouse, so I didn’t bother to book a room.”

  “Do you have clothes or anything? A suitcase or bag you brought with you?”

  “Yeah. But it’s at Jordan’s place. I stopped to drop it off before coming here.”

  He sucked in a long, slow breath and nodded through his exhale. “It’s completely up to you—and if you say no, I’d totally understand—but if you want, I can drive you to get your stuff and then take you to a hotel or something.”

  Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have given his offer any thought; it would’ve been an emphatic no. Then again, I wouldn’t have even entertained his company for this long, so really, there wouldn’t have been an offer to turn down. But now, with my transportation limitations and somewhat elevated blo
od-alcohol level, my logic seemed as clear as tar.

  “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  I stared at the diamond on my finger.

  Ever since Jordan had placed it there, I never once thought I’d take it off. Not only that but leave it on the table in his foyer. Along with a note. And oddly enough, it was the note I questioned, unsure if I should leave it behind or just say screw it and toss it. It would be nice to make him figure it out for himself. Maybe make him question everything until he drove himself insane. Honestly, that would be the fair thing to do.

  Fair to me—which was the only thing that mattered at this point.

  Deciding that Jordan didn’t deserve an explanation, I took the piece of paper, shoved it into my pocket, and grabbed the handle of my suitcase. There was no telling how long he’d go before noticing the ring that sat on his entrance table, but that wasn’t my problem.

  From now on, nothing about Jordan was my problem.

  And when I walked out the front door, I felt lighter than at any other time in my life.

  That was…until I found Brogan leaning against the passenger side of his Wrangler, his hands in his pockets, staring right at me. A shadow fell over his face, so I couldn’t see much, though I had no doubt his gaze soaked me in. That was the only thing that would explain the heat that enveloped me as I moved down the steps, closer to him.

  He pushed off the side of the Jeep and closed the distance between us. Electricity crackled in the air when he took the suitcase from my hand, and even though it should’ve worried me, maybe even frightened me, I felt oddly comforted by it. However, not as comforted as I felt at the sound of his warm, deep voice when he said, “You ready?”