This chapter doesn't have smut, but I worked hard. There will rarely be chapters without smut, but when there is, I'll mark the title with "NS" and put it in the summery. Please enjoy.

No smut: Sam's forced to move to Lima, OH. After meeting a girl, Sam learns a dark history of the town.

I hated that my parents moved me to Ohio; Tennessee was my home. I didn't like the new school. I didn't want to make new friends. The first week, I even refused to unpack.

My mom loved the house and always said it was a steal. She wanted a place where her and my dad could settle and spend the rest of their lives. "Sam, this is what we saved for. There's plenty of room, and we finally have a backyard." She pointed out at the five flowerless bushes along the far side of the fence. "I can even start a garden." She had dreams.

"You don't know anything about gardening."

My dad put his foot down. "We're not leaving," he said with a stern voice. "Now, find something to do. Help your brother with his homework."

I growled and stomped off. I found my younger siblings sitting on the front step, but felt concerned that they weren't alone. I thought, "How dare this person? You don't just walk up and get comfortable with two kids. Don't people go to jail for that?"

The girl sat between my brother and sister. She talked them thought their schoolwork, but gave more attention to Stevie "What you do to one side, you have to do to the other. If you subtract eight-"

"Hi," I cut in.

She stood and turned. She greeted me with a smile. "Hey, I'm Mercedes Jones. I just wanted to meet the new neighbors. I live next door."

"I've never seen you around here." I noticed that we looked to be around the same age. "I haven't seen you in school."

"Um." Her pause was too long. "I'm homeschooled."

Stacy looked up at me. "She's really smart, Sammy."

"If you're done with your work, go put it away," I ordered causing the kids to run into the house. "Nice to meet you, Mercedes, but I have-" I stopped as my phone began to ring. I fished it out of my pocket. I had only looked down for a second.

Mercedes had walked off… quickly.

I brushed it off; she was gone. I went inside, talking to my friend.

My parents met her the next day. They quickly noticed how their young kids took to her. They offered her the opportunity to tutor a few days a week. After a few weeks, their invitation extended to me.

Mercedes and I became very close. She occasionally stopped by on days that she wasn't tutoring. We had so much in common and plenty to talk about. She had changed my mind from when I first met her; I saw her as the amazing person that everyone loved. I even started to have special feelings towards her; Stevie wasn't the only one that had a crush on her.

"Stevie and Stacy are watching cartoons," Mercedes announced as she strutted into the kitchen. She sat at the table that was covered by my books. She smiled when she noticed my open history book. "My uncle fff-" She stopped to think of a correction. "My grandfather fought in the Vietnam War."

Just like she had her good moments she had her bad… Not bad, but she came off as odd. She always tried to correct herself or play it off innocently.

I tried to pay attention to what Mercedes was reading to me, but kept getting distracted by her. I silently questioned if there was something between us. "Just a little kiss on the cheek. It worked so well in the first grade, right? Just go for it," I thought to myself.

Mercedes looked up. "Are you paying attention to-"

I kissed her, but it didn't go as planned. It was a peck, but it was on her lips instead of her cheek. I was too surprised to notice if there was a spark.

Her cheeks rose as she blushingly smiled. "What was that for?"

The boldness that convinced me to kiss her had vanished. "I, um." I stumbled for words. "I don't know."

She giggled. Like the girl from my first grade class, she thought it was just cute. "Please focus." She returned to her lesson.

Although I threw a fit when I moved to Ohio, I did make a few friends. I jumped for my phone when I got a text.

Mercedes was patient to let me read the message, but she didn't let me reply. She took the cell phone and slid the book closer to me. She used the open access and what I taught her to tap through my phone. Mercedes scrolled through my playlist of music. "I love Micheal Jackson. It's been awhile since he's released new music."

I turned away from my notes. "That's pretty hard for a dead man to do."

"Micheal Jackson is not dead. Next you're going to tell me Whitney Houston is too."

"... Yeah. Where have you been for the past few years?"

She was shocked by the information, but played it off with a joke. She admitted she had to go. Before I could offer, she declined, "I can show myself out."

"Wait." I reached out to stop her. "There's a party Friday night. Do you want to go with me?" I noticed her frown as she stood silently. "It's not far from here," I added, thinking that would make the idea sound more comforting.

I've never seen Mercedes in public. I've never seen her past my front yard. If she turned down the party, then I would have asked her to a movie. I wasn't looking for a date, but I did want her to go out and do something fun.

"No," she finally answered. She didn't ask any questions. She didn't give me a reason. She didn't give me the chance to offer the alternative. "See you later, Sam."

Mercedes continued to tutor until the end of the school year. When the summer began, her visits became rare and scattered. She promised that it wasn't anything my family had done, but I continued to think it was my fault.

For the Fourth of July, the neighbors threw a party. They invited the whole neighborhood. They had met my family but wanted to introduce us to more families.

I stood out. I was the only teenager there. I didn't understand what the adults were talking about. I didn't want to be near the kids. I was alone.

I approached the hosts. "I was looking for Mercedes."

"Who, Sam?"

My father spoke for me. "Mercedes, your daughter."

The couple looked at us with raised eyebrows.

The Smiths didn't have a daughter. They only had a young son. They told us that there wasn't a Jones family in our neighborhood.

We couldn't believe it. My family welcomed a stranger into our house. Everything we had learned about her was a lie.

I vowed to confront Mercedes when I saw her. I thought and practiced what I would have said. I wasted weeks, obsessing over Mercedes before I had the bright idea to look her up. I doubted if Mercedes Jones was her real name, but I wanted to know something. I spent a weekend at the library. I was determined, and I wasn't going to let anything, including my dyslexia, stop me from learning. Luckily, I found her name in a book of Lima's history. I checked the book out and rushed home to show my family.

"Yes, this is her," my dad announced, studying the picture. "But this all happened in the 90s."

Lima was a calm town, but when seven teens go missing in a span of two years, it gets attention. They all had dreams of getting out of town, but their parents swore that they wouldn't leave without letting anyone know. The missing ranged from age twelve to seventeen. More than 20 years later, none of the victims have been seen in public.

Mom began to place plates at the table. "Get ready for dinner," she ordered. When we tried to show her the picture, she shut us down. "Put that book away, wash your hands, so we can have a family dinner before your father goes to work." My mom was the only one that was able to bury the memory of Mercedes: out of sight, out of mind.

After dinner, everyone went on with their day. Dad started getting ready for work. Mom, with the help of Stevie, washed the dishes. Stacy was drawing. I took my book up stairs.

There she was. Mercedes sat on my bed, and didn't jump when I came in. Her eyes shifted from the sunset outside the window to her hands in her lap. She didn't want to make eye contact. She knew that we had found out her secret. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"What is this, Mercedes?" I asked, waving the book. I only got a shrug. "Why are you here?"

"I can't leave," she softly admitted. She began to fidget with her fingers. "It was 1994 when I started taking music lessons. I save all my money to keep my parents from finding out. They didn't want to feed into my pipe dreams and fantasies. My coach ran lessons out of her house- this house." She grew silent.

I could have waited hours for her to finish her story. I closed the door for privacy. Sitting beside her, I rested my hand on her shoulder; she felt solid… and real. "Are you dead?"

She began to sniffled. When a tear fell on hand, she quickly wiped it on her shirt. "I showed up for my lesson, and she was out running errands. Her husband let me wait. I remember everything he did. It was awful." Clearly, she needed a hug, and I gave it to her. When she was in my arms, she began to cry. She soaked my shoulder with tears. "It's torture being here. I don't know how to leave, and I want to so bad… We all do."

"We?" I carefully straightened Mercedes. I opened the book and asked, "Who's we?"

She pointed to four pictures: two boys and two other girls. "They're hiding from your family. They don't want to show themselves."

I was silent as Mercedes read the article for herself.

She purposely skipped over her picture. She closed the book and walked to the window. Tapping the glass, she said, "We don't know how our families are, and they don't know about us. We've missed graduations, anniversaries, birthdays… funerals. I might have nieces and nephews. There's so much out there, and we're here."

I took her hand to stop her tapping, but she continued to stare out at the back yard. I followed her gaze and pointed. "Here?"

Where they buried in the garden?

Mercedes nodded. "We were too scared of him to get help."

"You shouldnt be scared of my family." I rushed out of the house on a mission. I wasn't sure if uncovering their bodies was going to free them, but I was going to solve the mystery for their families. I thought everyone deserved to be at peace. I snatched the shevel from the shed.

My mom stormed out of the house. "Get out of my flower bed!" she ordered. She had been working on her garden since spring. If only she had known what was a few inches deeper.

I ignored the calls from my family. I continued to dig until I found a white piece sticking out of the dirt. I wasn't great with health, but I was sure it was a finger bone. I yelled to my parents, "Call the police!"

The police found five bodies in the backyard- one beside the other. They never asked how I knew where the victims were, but if they did, they would have thought that I was crazy. They wanted to search the land for more bodies, so my family was paid to move. The house was demolished, but no more bodies were found.

Mercedes appeared to me one last time. "Thank you, Sam" was all that she said. She blessed me with another smile before fading into a bright light. She was able to rest.

Thanks for reading.

Small question: Would it be easier to read if I put the POV at the start of the chapters, or do you catch on when you start reading?