Chloe Walsh [Walsh - Pocketful of Us: Pocket #4

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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Chloe Walsh is in no way affiliated with any of the brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.

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"Nothing in Pocketful is as it seems."

Loyalty.

Family.

Power.

A code I never knew existed until now.

A code that could destroy us all.

Drowning in the sins of our fathers, everything is coming to a boil.

Its sink or swim time.

Too bad Im already drowning

Pocketful of Us is the final installment in a four-book series. Because of its explicit sexual content, mature themes, bully themes, potential triggers, and bad language, it is suitable for mature readers.

Romi

"How much do you think he'd sell her for?"

Holding my breath, something I found myself doing a lot lately, I remained perfectly still, eyes clenched shut, and listened to the men hovering around my bed.

"How much do I think Cal Dillon wants for his pretty little princess?" Laughter filled my ears. "You couldnt afford her in your lifetime, asshole."

"Then how about a sample of the unfinished product?" I felt a finger trace my cheek and I willed myself to remain motionless while terror seized my heart. "Fuck, I get hard just thinking about that tight snatch," the man with the thick accent said. "Her ripe little body and that virgin cunt." His fingers trailed down my collarbone and drifted under the neckline of my nightie. "One little taste before he..."

Wake up, Romi.

Wake up now!

When he pinched my small nipple, I was grateful for the darkness in my room because it disguised my terror.

Please wake up.

Oh God

"You sick fuck," one of the men chuckled. "If she wakes up, you're a dead man."

"I dont know, man, I reckon she might be worth it "

The sound of a tree rustling filled my ears and caused one of the men to groan. "That little bastard." His hand disappeared from my body. "Every fuckin' night, without fail."

"Looks like you're not the only one obsessed with her, Catochi," one of them mused. "Come on. Let's get out of here before baby Toretto gets you skinned alive."

The sound of footsteps retreating filled my ears, right along with my violently pounding heart.

My bedroom door clicked shut at the same time as my window pushed open.

It's okay now, Romi.

He's here.

"Ro? You still awake?"

Open your eyes.

You're safe.

Blinking the tears from my eyes, I rolled onto my side, facing him. "Hey," I whispered, feeling a wave of anger towards the boy climbing through my bedroom window. "You're late."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that." Carefully closing the window behind him, Sketch quickly kicked off his sneakers and stripped off his hoodie. "Chris and I were playing Call of Duty and I lost track of the time." Pushing his sweats down his hips, he stepped out of them and tip-toed over to my bed. "I totally beat his ass, by the way," he added with a satisfied snort, pulling back the covers and climbing into bed with me.

I didnt waste a second scrambling onto his chest. Burying my face in his neck, I clung to his big body for all I was worth. Limbs locked tight with tension, I forced myself to relax and just breathe.

He was here now.

The nightmares would stop.

Nothing could hurt me when he was in this bed with me.

See? You're totally safe.

"You should have seen his face, Ro." A small laugh of contentment escaped him. "He was so pissed."

So unbelievably relieved to have his arms around me, I clenched my eyes shut and absorbed the heat of his skin against mine, the sound of his beating heart as it thudded steadily in his chest.

Strong and steady.

Fearless and safe.

A sob of relief escaped me and Sketch stiffened. In one swift movement, he was sitting up with me straddling his lap. "What happened?" His hands were on my shoulders and the moonlight wafting through my window illuminated the concern in his eyes. "Another dream?"

"Yes No I dont know anymore." Sniffling, I shook my head and then nodded, feeling both conflicted and concerned. "It always feels so real, Sketch, and it's getting worse." Shivering violently, I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him. "Justjust dont be late again, 'kay?"

"Okay," he whispered, hands moving to my hips. "I won't be late again."

"And dont go, okay? Dont leave me alone at night."

"I never leave you at night, Ro." His voice was laced with confusion when he added, "I sleep here every night." Reaching up to cup my face, he wiped the tears from my cheeks with both thumbs and pressed a kiss to my lips. "I've got you, baby," he whispered, pulling back to study my face. "Always."

Trembling, I leaned my face into his touch. "Can you do one more thing for me?"