NoStringsAttached

Contents Title Page Copyright Kindle Dedication Prologue - Peter Prologue - Morgan Chapter 01 Chapter 02 Chapter 03 Flashback - Three Years Ago Chapter 04 Chapter 05 Chapter 06 Chapter 07 Chapter 08 Chapter 09 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Epilogue Freebies More Reading from DarkLights Publishing About the Author Guide Contents Start of Content NoStringsAttached Boys of Simson U. Book 4 J. Allen Grady Copyright © 2023 by J. Allen Grady All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. The characters in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Many thanks to those who helped make this book possible, in particular Sue and Jenifer who provided feedback and editorial assistance! PROLOGUE - PETER TEN-AND-A-half years ago Peter Maguire Trigger warnings: This novel begins with an implied attempt at suicide by the MC’s mother. This occurrence and its aftermath factors in the psychological development of the main characters, and is referenced periodically, but it does not form a large portion of the text. Additionally, the text will reference the mother’s mental state as she has her ups and downs, but only to demonstrate its impact on her son. *** “You have reached 911. What is your emergency?” “I ... my mom,” I said through tears, my voice quavering. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that, please?” “My mom,” I said, speaking up as much as I could, still hoping that my mom wouldn’t hear me. “My mom’s been ... sick and—” “Can I get your address, son?” “It’s 415 Wisteria Lane,” I said. “And when you say that your mom’s sick—?” “She, um... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in four days and—” “Son, how old are you?” the woman asked, her voice becoming soft. “I’m ... I’m nine...” “What’s your name?” she asked. “Peter,” I said. “Peter Maguire...” “Is your father around or—?” “No, it’s just me and my mom. My dad left,” I said. “And your mother’s been gone for five days?” “No, she just hasn’t been out of her room, and she won’t answer, but the door’s locked, so—” “I’ve got police and paramedics on the way. You stay on the phone with me, okay?” “Yeah ... yeah, okay...” “Everything’s gonna be okay, Peter,” she said, at which point I began to cry heavily, sobs wracking my body. “Don’t worry, son. We’re gonna get your mom some help, okay?” “But ... what if she is—?” “Don’t think like that, son,” she said. The woman began to talk to me about other things. She asked me about school, and I said, “I haven’t been ... in five days...” “What’s your favorite subject?” she asked. “Reading.” “What kind of books do you like to read?” she asked. “I like to read stories about other worlds,” I said. “I like .... like fairies and trolls and goblins and—” “Fantasy,” she said. “I like fantasy too!” She began to talk to me about some of her favorite stories, distracting me from the wait, which would have seemed interminable without her. Finally, she said, “Peter, you should see blue lights outside.” I looked over my shoulder and could see the flashing blue lights in the windows around the front door. “Yeah, they’re here.” “You need to go talk to the officers. I’m gonna let you go now, Peter. You be safe, okay?” “Yes, ma’am,” I said. When the front doorbell rang, I walked over, carefully undoing the bolt and cracking the door to peek outside to make sure it was, in fact, the police. It was silly, I thought, because the cars had blue lights. “Are you Peter Maguire?” the younger of the two cops asked, kneeling down to eye level and peering through the gap in the door. I nodded. “I’m Officer Jacobs. This is Officer Smith. Can we come inside?” I nodded and let the door open, backing up just as the paramedics pulled up. “Can you tell me why you called 911, Peter?” Officer Jacobs asked. I nodded and said, “My mommy’s locked herself in her room, and I haven’t seen her or heard from her...” Officer Jacobs looked over his shoulder at his partner and then glanced down at the paramedics, waving them up. The older cop conferred with the paramedics for a moment. I overheard words I didn’t understand, like psych and 72-hour hold. I stepped outside with Officer Jacobs, while Officer Smith went inside with the paramedics. Inside, I heard, “Mrs. Maguire, this is Officer Smith of the Overton Police Department... Could you please unlock the door and come out and talk to us?” There must have been no response. He knocked again. “Mrs. Maguire, please come out and talk to us, or I’m going to have to break the door open.” I heard the paramedics and the officer talking quietly. “Mrs. Maguire, one last time... Please come out!” Officer Smith said. “We’re here to get you some help, okay?” After a moment, I heard a loud crashing sound, and then a crunch. Then there was another loud crash. Then I could hear the door creak open. “Mrs. Maguire?! Mrs. Maguire?!” Officer Smith called as the paramedics burst into action. I heard them calling back and forth to each other—things about heartbeat and blood pressure. At this point, Officer Jacobs walked me down to another police car that had just pulled up. A lady cop let me sit in the back seat of her police car with the door open. She had a coloring book and crayons she gave to me. I tried not to notice as the paramedics wheeled my mother out of the house on a gurney.