Read Online Unlikely Hero (Atlanta #1) by Kemmie Michaels - Free Book Online
Authors: Kemmie Michaels
Tags: Erotic Romance
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I can do.
God, I didn't mean to write this much. Sorry. I can't imagine what you must think of me. I'll just stop my story here and hope I haven't scared you off. I guess my point was that I know what it's like to feel afraid and try to come out of it stronger. That's my story.
~M
P.S. I saw your picture. You’re beautiful.
Marcus crashed into a deep sleep after writing to Erin. He was tired after working and still recovering from his fight on Saturday. Mostly, though, he was relieved. He was not going to lose his job. He was trusted by Erin. His story had a chance to get out of his head for a while and be safe in Erin’s journal.
He slept well and woke up after nearly twelve hours refreshed and ready for work. His body was even a little less sore after such a deep sleep. The experience left him sort of peaceful.
After he got ready for work, he tucked the book under his arm and almost skipped down the steps toward his beater. He was ready to give his story to Erin. He was actually looking forward to her knowing. He hadn't told that story in a long time. Sharing with her was liberating. When he got to the office building, he went directly to Erin's desk. He tucked the book back in the corner for her. He smiled to himself and headed for the custodial supplies.
Erin anticipated her arrival at the office again like a quivering bundle of nerves. She needed to hear his story. Something was starting here. She didn't know if she'd ever know who M was, but she knew he would have an impact on her nonetheless. He already had.
His first note offered a tiny spark of hope and healing. Every proverbial spark has the potential to start a raging fire. This spark from M held the hope of something beyond the emptiness she had been living in. She had no idea what was starting, just that it was something — and something had been missing.
She found her notebook tucked back in the same corner. She hadn't even put her purse down when she thumbed through the pages to find where he had written to her. Her breath caught and she clamped the book shut again without reading. This was his story. He deserved better than a quick read standing at her desk. Erin called over to the Senior Manager and said, "Hey, Scott — I'm heading out for a breakfast meeting. I'll be back in an hour."
She kept her notebook in her hand and left the office building. Her favorite lunch spot was already open for a.m. coffee and muffins, so she sat down at her table and opened the book for her “meeting” with M. She ordered coffee and a blueberry scone and waited to be served before she opened the book. Erin ran her fingertips across the cover while she waited. The book nearly hummed electrically with potential and hope.
After she was served, Erin took a sip of coffee and a deep breath and started reading. Anyone walking by would have known instantly how moved she was by the words on the pages. Tears streamed down her face as she read M describe a nightmare of a childhood. Abuse, alcohol, loss, and terror ruled his adolescent world. Suddenly, her one moment of trauma seemed like nothing at all.
Her tears streamed silently down her face as she read and reread M's words to her. Her coffee and scone went untouched while she sat and processed his pain. He was still fighting his father, every day in his mind, and yet, he focused on his strength, and he focused on how his pain could help her, and he called her beautiful.
Erin had no words that could describe the feelings crashing over her from reading those few paragraphs. There were no words strong enough. She was hurting for him, ashamed of her own weakness over such a comparatively small trauma, and so instinctively proud of M for being everything that he was, in spite of what was done to him. This was all too much, and he thought she was beautiful. That little tidbit kept popping into her head as she thought about M and his difficult past.
After a long, quiet vigil at that table, Erin finally
God, I didn't mean to write this much. Sorry. I can't imagine what you must think of me. I'll just stop my story here and hope I haven't scared you off. I guess my point was that I know what it's like to feel afraid and try to come out of it stronger. That's my story.
~M
P.S. I saw your picture. You’re beautiful.
Marcus crashed into a deep sleep after writing to Erin. He was tired after working and still recovering from his fight on Saturday. Mostly, though, he was relieved. He was not going to lose his job. He was trusted by Erin. His story had a chance to get out of his head for a while and be safe in Erin’s journal.
He slept well and woke up after nearly twelve hours refreshed and ready for work. His body was even a little less sore after such a deep sleep. The experience left him sort of peaceful.
After he got ready for work, he tucked the book under his arm and almost skipped down the steps toward his beater. He was ready to give his story to Erin. He was actually looking forward to her knowing. He hadn't told that story in a long time. Sharing with her was liberating. When he got to the office building, he went directly to Erin's desk. He tucked the book back in the corner for her. He smiled to himself and headed for the custodial supplies.
Erin anticipated her arrival at the office again like a quivering bundle of nerves. She needed to hear his story. Something was starting here. She didn't know if she'd ever know who M was, but she knew he would have an impact on her nonetheless. He already had.
His first note offered a tiny spark of hope and healing. Every proverbial spark has the potential to start a raging fire. This spark from M held the hope of something beyond the emptiness she had been living in. She had no idea what was starting, just that it was something — and something had been missing.
She found her notebook tucked back in the same corner. She hadn't even put her purse down when she thumbed through the pages to find where he had written to her. Her breath caught and she clamped the book shut again without reading. This was his story. He deserved better than a quick read standing at her desk. Erin called over to the Senior Manager and said, "Hey, Scott — I'm heading out for a breakfast meeting. I'll be back in an hour."
She kept her notebook in her hand and left the office building. Her favorite lunch spot was already open for a.m. coffee and muffins, so she sat down at her table and opened the book for her “meeting” with M. She ordered coffee and a blueberry scone and waited to be served before she opened the book. Erin ran her fingertips across the cover while she waited. The book nearly hummed electrically with potential and hope.
After she was served, Erin took a sip of coffee and a deep breath and started reading. Anyone walking by would have known instantly how moved she was by the words on the pages. Tears streamed down her face as she read M describe a nightmare of a childhood. Abuse, alcohol, loss, and terror ruled his adolescent world. Suddenly, her one moment of trauma seemed like nothing at all.
Her tears streamed silently down her face as she read and reread M's words to her. Her coffee and scone went untouched while she sat and processed his pain. He was still fighting his father, every day in his mind, and yet, he focused on his strength, and he focused on how his pain could help her, and he called her beautiful.
Erin had no words that could describe the feelings crashing over her from reading those few paragraphs. There were no words strong enough. She was hurting for him, ashamed of her own weakness over such a comparatively small trauma, and so instinctively proud of M for being everything that he was, in spite of what was done to him. This was all too much, and he thought she was beautiful. That little tidbit kept popping into her head as she thought about M and his difficult past.
After a long, quiet vigil at that table, Erin finally
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