Beautifully Damaged

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Beautifully Damaged Page 18

by L. A. Fiore


  "I'm going to take some really great advice and not let him push me away."

  I heard his exhale before he whispered, "Thank, Christ."

  Chapter Fifteen

  I thought for a few days on how I could reach out to Trace and once I came up with an idea, it took me the better part of the day to make it just perfect.

  That night I sat on my bed as butterflies took flight in my belly. Trent had given me a picture right before Trace and I split. It was one he had taken when the three of us were out dancing one night. Trace and I were on the dance floor, slow dancing, but it was the look on both of our faces as we looked at the other that had the tears burning the back of my eyes. It was love, pure and simple. A picture is worth a thousand words so I framed that picture and had it couriered to Trace. I sat in wait for him to receive it and hoping that he was going to acknowledge the gift. As if I willed it, my phone buzzed and I almost dropped it because my hands were shaking so badly. When I read his text, my heart tripped in my chest.

  "All my heart is yours: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever."

  Jane Eyre's words, Ember, but my thoughts...

  I didn't know how long I sat there looking at his text before I replied to it. I wasn't sure that he'd answer me but I needed to ask anyway.

  Why did you push me away?

  The fact that he answered almost immediately made me smile because he was doing as I was, waiting and hoping.

  In my life, I've never had anyone who means to me what you do. You are the most precious thing in my life and I would do anything to keep you safe.

  You were protecting me?

  I was trying to but the one I was protecting you from isn't the threat.

  Meaning?

  Are you going for your run tomorrow?

  I thought that was an odd question, not to mention that he was changing the subject, but I answered anyway.

  Yes.

  Thank you, Ember, for the picture and the meaning behind it. Sweet dreams, beautiful.

  I sat up for a good long time trying to figure out what Trace was up to but when I did finally fall asleep, it was the first night in months that my dreams actually were sweet.

  The next day, as I ran, I wondered why Trace asked me if I would be running that day. I thought that maybe he was going to join me but when I arrived at the Gapstow Bridge, he wasn't there. I was just reaching the spot where I had collided with Loki when I noticed the people, dressed in all black, lining one side of the path and holding large white boards. I wondered if there was some kind of protest later. As soon as I approached, the first person lifted her sign and then in syncopated motion the others followed until the entire message was displayed. I stood dumbstruck right there in the middle of the path and just stared at Trace's message.

  I am sorry, Ember. Please forgive me.

  After several minutes, the people turned from me and walked away. I thought briefly on how Trace pulled that off and then I grinned since it wasn't just me who had a flair for the dramatic. I reached for my phone and texted Trace.

  There's nothing to forgive, Trace, but I do miss you.

  I waited for a reply but when none came, I put my phone away and finished my run. Afterwards, I warmed down before heading to Starbucks. My feet moved on instinct since my thoughts were entirely on Trace. When I actually arrived at Starbucks, I couldn't even say what route I had taken to get there. I walked to the counter and before I could place my order, the kid behind the counter asked, "Are you Ember?"

  "Yes."

  "One minute, please."

  I watched as he reached for a large cup and added hazelnut syrup before filling it with coffee. He then bagged several cake-pops before reaching for a small ivory envelope sitting on the back counter. When he returned he handed me the coffee, the bag of cake-pops and the note.

  "There's no charge," he offered with a smile.

  I was stunned so could offer nothing more than, "Thank you."

  I took a step away from the counter and looked down at the note with my name written in Trace's hand. My heart did a long, slow roll in my chest. I placed my coffee and pops down on the condiment bar before I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the card.

  I miss you, Ember, and I want a future with you. If you still want to be with me, meet me at Sapphire on Friday at eight. I'll be there, waiting for you, in the spot where we first met.

  Friday arrived and I was a bundle of nerves. I sat in the cab as my mind just raced. I knew that Trace had acted harshly as a way of protecting me but I couldn't deny that the memory of those weeks prior to us splitting up were very painful. There was a small part of me that thought I was foolish to go down that road again but a larger part of me saw Trace as a young man who was left alone to deal with whatever tormented him. He deserved a second chance but even more compelling a reason for me to go to him was the simple fact that I loved him. I loved him so much that I could forgive him for just about anything. He was reaching out to me, he was trying to fix what he broke, and I had come to learn that my dad was right: living without your soul's mate is very hard.

  When I arrived at Sapphire, the place was surprisingly quiet. The valet opened the cab door for me and offered me his hand.

  "Good evening, Ember."

  I was so surprised that he knew my name that I just stared at him, open-mouthed. He pulled my hand through his arm and led me to the door before opening it for me with a smile.

  "I hope you enjoy your evening."

  I felt and probably looked like a lobotomy-patient as I managed to mumble, "Thank you."

  I stepped through the doors and my feet just stopped moving because the place wasn't just quiet, it was completely empty. I resisted the urge to scratch my head and was about to turn for the door when I heard music filling the silence: U2's All I Want Is You. I took a few steps and stopped when I saw Trace standing just in front of the stool where I had been sitting when we first met.

  He was dressed in faded jeans, a black t-shirt and his beat-up black boots. His hair was spiky around that beautiful face and his eyes were burning with love. I unconsciously looked at his arm to the tattoo that was so much more than body art. He was beautiful, a beautifully damaged man.

  He started towards me and my heart pounded in my chest but my feet moved me as each step took me closer to the one place that I really wanted to be. Our eyes never left the other's. He reached for me and pulled me close just before his mouth covered mine. Being in his arms again, feeling his mouth on mine, feeling the heat of his body and smelling that spicy scent that was uniquely Trace, caused my soul to sigh.

  I felt the reluctance in him as he pulled away from me and when I looked into those steel-blue eyes there were just so many emotions burning there. His voice was raw when he whispered, "You came."

  "Always."

  "Forgive me."

  "I have." I looked around the place before I asked, "Where is everyone?"

  A slight grin tugged at his mouth before he offered, "We have the place to ourselves for the next hour."

  "How did you manage that?"

  "I know the owner." He reached up and touched my cheek and that soft touch caused a searing heat just under my skin.

  "There is so much I need to tell you but for the next hour I just want to hold you. Is that okay?"

  I felt the tears stinging my eyes as I held his tender gaze.

  "More than okay."

  His hand ran down my arm and he linked our fingers as he started towards the dance floor. He turned me to him and wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me up against him. He raised my hand brushing his lips over my knuckles and then placed our joined hands over his heart.

  "That woman was a setup. I pretended to do the one thing I knew would make you go. I'm so sorry I hurt you but I pushed you away because I feared for you. I thought I could let you go, thought you were better off without me, but you own me body and soul. You were right, Ember, you did haunt me every
single day. I can't go back to living the way I did because knowing you has changed me." A slight smile pulled at his lips before he added, "All I want is you."

  I fisted the back of his shirt as I pressed myself even closer to him before I whispered, "That feeling is mutual."

  "I love you, Ember."

  "I love you, Trace."

  For the next hour we stayed right where we were, holding each other, body to body, and though we were silent, words weren't needed. When Trace pulled back from me after the hour I was reluctant to release him.

  "I don't deserve a second chance, Ember, I know that. I hurt you and I violated your trust but I'm asking you to please give me one. The one thing I've learned with absolute certainty over these past months is that I can not live a life without you. I'm ready to share with you everything but much of what I have to say is going to be very hard for you to hear. Some of it may even turn you from me but I'm prepared to take that chance. All I ask is that you reserve judgment until you've heard it all." He held my gaze as he asked, "Can you do that?"

  "Nothing you could say will turn me from you. Telling me, sharing it, will help you heal and that is why I've wanted you to open up to me. You can't truly be free of your past until you come to terms with it and let it go. I want you to let it go because your future is standing right in front of you."

  His smile took my breath away as he continued, "Will you come with me?"

  I was reminded of another time when he spoke those very same words to me. I answered instinctively as I had before, "Yes."

  He reached for my hand and led me to the exit. When we reached his bike, he placed my helmet on my head before settling on his bike to hold it for me. I climbed on and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. He reached up and covered my locked hands and squeezed before he started the bike and pulled from the curb.

  When we reached his apartment building, he shutdown and waited for me to climb off before he followed after me, taking my hand and leading me upstairs. As soon as we were in his apartment, he walked me to the kitchen. He poured me a glass of wine before taking a beer from the refrigerator for himself. Once we were settled at his kitchen table, he rubbed his hand over his spiky hair and took a long pull from his beer.

  I watched him and could tell how much this talk was going to cost him -- telling me whatever it was he needed to -- but I needed to tell him about my meeting with his uncle. I needed him to know what I knew before he shared with me. It didn't feel right not to.

  "Before you start, Trace, I need to tell you something."

  He looked very nervous but his eyes never wavered from mine. "Okay."

  "I know who Charles Michaels is. I know he's your uncle."

  I watched as his fingers turned white as he clenched his bottle of beer so tightly in his hand I thought it might shatter in his fierce grip.

  "How did you find out?"

  "I sought him out, wanted to learn what hold he had over you. I met him and he asked me to help you. Asked me to get you to open up about something that happened thirteen years ago."

  Trace was up and shattered his bottle of beer against the far wall and began to pace like a caged panther. His eyes turned to mine and there was so much looking back at me.

  "Why?"

  I pulled a hand through my hair as I stood and walked to the other side of the room.

  "Because he's a narcissist and you could be a potential problem for his plans but, me, I love you, Trace, and you've been hurting and alone for long enough."

  Trace's back was to me; he was so rigid, so tense. His hands were balled into fists at his sides so I walked to him and wrapped my hand around one of his fists as I looked up into his face to see that his eyes were closed and tears were rolling down his cheeks.

  "Tell me. Let me carry some of your burden. Please, let me in."

  He wrapped his arms around me as he buried his face in my hair. After a moment, he pulled back, reached for my hand, and led me into the living room before he pulled me down onto the sofa where he practically held me on his lap.

  "One weekend thirteen years ago, I learned that my dad was hurting my sister."

  I turned in his lap as dread filled my belly and I looked into his empty eyes before hearing the words that he spoke next -- words that reached into my chest and ripped out my heart.

  "I thought it was just me."

  I went completely numb as emotions I couldn't even begin to understand filled me. He just watched me with vacant eyes. Somehow I managed to ask, "How long, Trace?"

  "It started when I was nine: a late night visit, an inappropriate touch but it wasn't until I was ten that he actually..."

  He didn't finish the thought but then he didn't need to before he continued, "...but it stopped not long after it started and I knew it had because my sister was reaching the age that he preferred. I stayed in that house for her and still, I failed her."

  "Oh, God." I could see him as a beautiful little boy and his father... I felt the bile rushing up my throat as I ran down the hall to the bathroom, making it just in time, and after, I just knelt there in front of the toilet as tears streamed down my face. I didn't know what I thought his demons were but I didn't expect that, didn't expect something so vile and depraved. For Trace to be the good, kind and compassionate man that he was after suffering through a childhood as sick as the one he lived through only proved how incredible a person he was. His voice was very detached when I heard him speak from right behind me.

  "I'll understand if you want to leave and I understand your revulsion. Like I said I'm dirty, Ember."

  My eyes flew to his as fury burned back the heartache.

  "Dirty? You?" I stood and approached him as my anger for his father boiled over.

  "You were a child, an innocent soul, who was abused by one of the people who should have loved you most. You suffered alone in silence dealing with something that most adults can't deal with, and look at you? You are the strongest, bravest, kindest man I've ever known. Don't look at me like that. You came to my aid when I was being assaulted, have repeatedly rescued me when I needed rescuing. Most children who are abused become abusers but not you. You protect everyone around you. The only person you abuse is yourself but the fact that you've been left to deal with this all alone for so long -- I can't say I blame you."

  He didn't move, just stood there looking at me as I moved towards him. I stopped just in front of him before touching my palm to his cheek and he closed his eyes and pressed into my hand. When I spoke, my voice was whisper soft. "Trace, I love you truly, completely and hopelessly. You don't have to suffer in silence anymore and I swear to God I will never let anyone hurt you again."

  He wrapped me into his arms and held me so tightly against him.

  "I love you, Trace."

  I heard him crying, felt his tears on my neck, the shaking of his shoulders, so I held him more tightly and offered him the much needed, and long overdue, comfort he deserved. When he pulled back some time later, he reached for my hands.

  "I'd like to tell you the rest."

  "Okay."

  He kept my one hand in his and led me back into the living room where he pulled me down onto the sofa with him. He wrapped me in his arms with my back to his chest as he finally spoke his nightmare aloud.

  "I thought it was just me, Ember, and even though I looked for the signs and watched her at night, he was more careful with her and I realize now that he was waiting for the nights that I wasn't home."

  I looked back at him as he added, "I started early, Ember, fucking around and I know now I did because it was my way to have some control. I was out that night getting my rocks off while my dad was..." He clenched his fists and I could see it, disgust and self-hatred burning in his eyes.

  "Is that why you believe you're only good for sex?"

  "I've been conditioned since I was a child."

  "No, you were abused and don't you take the blame for your father. He and only he is at fault."

  I could see he didn't agree wit
h me so I was intentionally harsh in reply, "So then your sister is also at fault."

  His eyes burned with fire before he all but roared his denial, "No!"

  "Why you and not her?" I forced him to look at me. "Neither of you are at fault, Trace. Only that animal who's your father is at fault."

  He seemed to think on that for a moment before he pulled me back to him and pressed a kiss on my head.

  "Thanks for that."

  "Tell me the rest."

  He inhaled and let it out in a slow exhale before he finished.

  "That night I begged my mom for help even knowing that she was completely uninterested in her children. I can't even remember what my own mother looked like because she never gave either of us the time of day but I begged her that night, for my sister's sake, to get us the hell out of there. She didn't though, she wouldn't even move from the sofa. It was like she was zoned out, a state she was usually in, so I got my sister into the car with the intent of getting her to a doctor but I hydroplaned and we crashed into a tree. The next thing I knew, we were in the hospital and I learned that my sister went through the windshield. The doctors had thought she was going to die but she lived, though she wasn't the same again."

  I turned around to face him and wrapped his face in my hands as his tear-filled eyes looked into mine. "That's why you hate hospitals."

  He nodded before he added, "I made her the way she is now. Sometimes I wonder if it wasn't for the best because she doesn't remember the abuse. The mind she has now -- she's always happy, child-like in her happiness."

  "But you remember for both of you."

  "I'm her big brother. It's my job to worry over her."

  I reached for Trace's arm to his tattoo as I ran my fingertip over it. "Master of your own hell."

  My eyes found his as tears streamed down my face and I reached for his hand linking our fingers.

  "You're not alone anymore."

  He held my gaze as love filled his eyes. I leaned into him pressing my lips to his. The kiss was just that: a tender, comforting kiss, and when I pulled back he looked less haunted.

 

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