Beautifully Damaged

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Beautifully Damaged Page 25

by L. A. Fiore


  "Charles and I really do hope that this can be the beginning of many gatherings between us."

  Trace offered Vivian no reply and instead he turned his attention to Charles and asked, "So what is it you really want, Charles?"

  Charles had the sense to recoil; it was slight but definite before he replied, "I didn't do right by you back then and I'm trying to make amends."

  Trace's hand clenched into a tight ball which had me reaching for it and covering it with my own. He immediately turned his hand so he could link our fingers but his hard stare never left his uncle. I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking it also, too little too late. He said as much when he did finally reply.

  "We could have used your help back then, could have used someone then who gave a shit about our welfare."

  Charles' reaction to that was surprising because he looked remorseful and there was contrition lacing through his words when he offered, "I know and I'm sorry."

  Vivian pulled her eyes from Charles to look over at Trace. "Please let's not speak of the past. It was a dark time and we didn't handle it well but we're here now. Maybe we can, in some measure, move forward. I didn't know your parents, Trace, but I should have made an effort. If I had, maybe I would have realized what was happening in your house and for that I am very sorry."

  Trace offered nothing to that since what could he possibly have said? For the next two hours we engaged in small talk. Charles peppered Trace with questions about the past which Trace politely evaded. By the time we were getting ready to leave, I was really glad the evening was over. I couldn't decide if the Michaels were the most arrogant and self-serving jackasses who ever lived or if they were living in serious denial. Vivian and I excused ourselves to go to the ladies' room. She clearly was a drinker since she hadn't stopped the entire night so by the end of the evening she was pretty flagged. We stood in front of the mirror in the restroom as I washed my hands and she attempted to touch up her makeup. It was rather funny watching her applying her lipstick because her eye/hand coordination was off from the booze.

  "I love these Venetian-style mirrors. This one in particular is stunning. I do believe I've seen this before or something remarkably like it."

  It was lovely, the rectangular, hand-cut, mirrored glass and I said as much to Vivian.

  "It's lovely."

  "Um." Vivian seemed distracted but then she closed up her tube of lipstick before meeting my eyes in the mirror.

  "Shall we?"

  "Yes."

  Trace was just paying the bill when we returned to the table and I knew, from the wide-eyed expression on Cindi's face when she passed by me, that Trace had been exceedingly generous. Charles reached for Vivian's hand before turning his attention to Trace.

  "Thank you for dinner and for agreeing to have it with us."

  "Yes, it was so nice to get to know you a little. I do so hope that this is the first of many evenings together." Vivian added.

  I knew Trace would have rather said nothing but manners dictated that he say something.

  "Thank you for extending the invitation."

  I had to give Charles credit for accepting Trace's words and seeming to understand that they were the only ones he and his wife were going to get. Charles turned to me and reached for my hand as he brought it to his lips causing Trace to tense at my side.

  "It was lovely seeing you again, Ember."

  He brushed his lips over my knuckles before releasing my hand. I had to suppress the urge to wipe my hand on my dress before I offered, "Good night, Charles and Vivian."

  We watched as they walked from the restaurant. It was an unspoken agreement that we waited for a few moments before following them out to be certain that they were gone. The night was clear and warm as we started down the street towards home. Trace was distracted as we walked along and I imagined his thoughts were on dinner and his only living relatives outside of Chelsea. At least Charles didn't ignore the obvious, didn't try to brush the past under the rug, I had to give him points for that.

  The evening had been very hard on Trace so I was surprised when he pulled me off to the side and turned to me with a tender look on his face. He brushed his knuckles over my cheek before he asked, "So what are your thoughts on the evening?"

  "I'm not really sure. I give Charles credit for accepting responsibility but I'm still not sure I understand what the point was of that dinner. I feel like I'm missing something."

  "It seemed like a fishing expedition."

  I thought on that for a moment and, yeah, that's exactly what it felt like. "What do you think he was trying to glean?"

  Trace shrugged his shoulders before he offered, "I've no idea but since he didn't get anything I'm guessing we haven't heard the last of them."

  "...probably not."

  "It's still pretty early..." He said as he reached for my hand and started pulling me along as he hailed a cab.

  "Where are we going?"

  He waited until we were in the cab before he turned to me and grinned.

  "I'm taking my beautiful woman dancing."

  He pulled me into his lap and fused his mouth to mine. My arms wrapped around his neck as he nibbled at the corner of my mouth and then he bit my lower lip hard enough to cause pain before he lapped at the pinpoint of pain with his tongue. I was mindless when the cab stopped.

  Trace pulled his mouth from mine before he lifted me from his lap. He opened the door of the cab and climbed out before pulling me out behind him. He paid the cabbie and he led me into the club but we didn't get a table and we didn't go to the bar for a drink. He walked us right onto the dance floor just as Straight From the Heart from Bryan Adams came on. He pulled me into his arms and held me right up against his hard body but we didn't move to the music. He then gave up the pretense of dancing completely when he wrapped my face in his hands and covered my mouth with his own. My hands moved under his jacket to wrap around his waist as I pressed myself closer to him and we stayed like that for the duration of the song. Trace pulled from me and grinned as he reached for his tie to pull it off before shoving it into his jacket pocket.

  "Wait here." He said before he moved toward the bar as he removed his jacket and handed it to the bartender. My eyes just soaked up the sight of his magnificent frame. The thin cotton of his shirt was stretched across the muscles of his back, shoulders and arms perfectly outlining that fabulous body. As he approached me, he was rolling up his sleeves and the sight of his tattoo against the elegance of his attire made my mouth water. He reached me just as I Gotta Feeling from Black-Eyed Peas started to play.

  Trace was an excellent dancer and it was sexy as hell to be led around the dance floor by someone so utterly masculine and yet dressed so elegantly. Howie Day's Collide played, at one point in the evening, which had Trace pulling me into arms. He didn't kiss me but his eyes were only for me, even with a dance floor overflowing with gorgeous women his eyes never left mine. The song came to an end as he leaned over and brushed his lips lightly across mine.

  "I love you, Trace."

  He lowered his head so that his lips lingered near my ear before he whispered, "Love isn't strong enough a word, sweetheart."

  Trace kept me close for the rest of the night as he pressed our bodies together at every opportunity. Feeling that hard, muscled body pressed up against mine was making me overly warm because I was seriously turned on. Trace noticed it, too, when he whispered in my ear.

  "You're flushed, Ember."

  I spoke without thinking. "I am so turned on right now."

  His eyes sparked hot in response to that before a wickedness entered his expression. "Maybe I should take you home and help you cool off."

  "Oh, my." I started fanning myself just thinking about it.

  "God, I love you." he said right before he kissed me hard on the mouth. He pulled me from the dance floor and grabbed his jacket from behind the bar before he walked me to the restrooms. He kissed my hand before he moved back to wait: leaning up against the wall while he did
so. I just stared at the sight of him and unconsciously put my hand over my heart since it was beating wildly in my chest. That action had a flash of something burning across Trace's features.

  "You've two minutes, Ember, and then I'm coming in for you."

  "Oh." I turned then and disappeared into the room as his laughter followed after me.

  I was at one of the sinks, dabbing my face and neck with really cold water, when the door of the stall on the end opened and out walked Heidi. She didn't look very good; her face was really pale and her eyes seemed too large for her face. She stopped walking as soon as she saw me and just stared before she offered with surprising force.

  "Ember, you have to stay away from him because he's crazy."

  I looked at her like she had flowers growing out of her ears before I asked, "Who?"

  "Dane Carmichael."

  I paled, felt as the blood drained from my face. She moved to stand just in front of me before taking my hands in a grip that was almost painful.

  "He has a real issue with you, obsessed even, watch your back."

  She started from me but I reached for her arm. "How do you know?"

  She didn't look at me when she answered: turning her face down so I could only see her profile.

  "I've spent some time with him: more out of fear than desire..." An odd look came into her expression as she continued, "...and a few times during some particularly violent sex, he called out your name and hurt me, too, when he did." She looked me right into my eyes before she finished, "He's crazy, Ember, watch your back."

  And then she was gone but I couldn't move because her words had literally scared me stiff. Trace must have seen Heidi leave because seconds later he came flying into the bathroom and his expression was a mixture of fury and worry.

  "Ember, what happened?" He stopped just in front of me and wrapped his hands around my face. It was only when I felt the warmth from his body that some of the fear abated as my eyes lifted to his.

  "What did Heidi say to you to put that look on your face?"

  A lump had formed in my throat which made speaking difficult but I was able to manage, "She was warning me that Dane is crazy, violent and fixated on me."

  "He won't touch you, Ember. I will rip that motherfucker to pieces before he lays one finger on you."

  I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his waist, craving the strength of him, as I offered, "I know." And that was what scared me.

  We were quiet during the ride home since both of us were lost in our own thoughts. Trace waited for me to precede him into the apartment before he locked up for the night. I dropped my purse on the sofa before I moved to Trace and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt the shudder that went through him before he turned into me and fused his mouth to mine. Despite the fear brought on by Heidi's warning, or maybe because of it, I ached for Trace's touch. My fingers worked the buttons of his shirt before I ran my hands up his chest dividing the shirt as I did. I pulled the cotton down his shoulders and arms before letting it drop to the floor. Desire burned through me at the sight of him. His muscles were outlined under the thin cotton of his undershirt and his arms were bare and flexed. My hands continued their journey, running over his abs, up his chest and under his arms forcing him to lift them over his head.

  "Keep them up," I whispered as the tips of my fingers trailed a line down his body moving over his pecs and down along each individual muscle of his abs. Trace's eyes never left mine and in his expression I saw what I was feeling looking back at me.

  I gripped his undershirt and lifted it up and over his head.

  "I love your body," I whispered before I pressed a kiss over his heart. I felt the restraint in him, knew he wanted to take, but he was holding himself back and allowing me the freedom to touch him in any way that I wanted. I was humbled by him and the trust he had in me. My hands and mouth roamed and savored every inch of his chest. I felt as his control started to slip when I pressed a kiss to his naval. He reached for me but I moved away from him. My eyes never left his as I stepped out of my sandals. His eyes were hot watching me as I pulled the pins from my hair so it cascaded down around my shoulders. I heard him growl, low in his throat, as I reached for the zipper of my dress and slowly worked it down. The silk slipped off my shoulders and fell in a wave to the floor as I stepped out of it and moved toward him. My fingers worked the front clasp of my bra as I flipped it open and slowly pulled the lace down my arms before allowing it to follow my dress to the floor. Trace was fisting his hands at his sides as his eyes burned into mine and then I was pressing myself against his hard chest. He wasted no time pulling me closer as his mouth sought and found mine. He lifted me into his arms as I wrapped my legs around his waist before he turned and pressed me up against the wall. I heard the sound of his zipper right before his fingers touched me. He slid the swatch of lace out of his way just as he rolled his hips and entered me in one long, hard, stroke. I closed my eyes on a moan loving the way it felt to be possessed by this man.

  Trace's voice was raw when he demanded, "Look at me."

  My eyes opened to find Trace watching me with a look that was almost wild. "I love you, Ember."

  After that vow he started to move his hips with a slow deliberateness that made me ache. His eyes never left mine as his hand closed over my breast. His fingers teased my nipple, rolling that tight bud, before tugging on it hard enough to cause pain which had desire pooling in my belly. I tightened my legs around him as his hips moved faster and deeper just as his hand moved down my body and his thumb found that small point of pleasure. He teased and stroked in time with his thrusts until my body just splintered apart from my orgasm. I managed to somehow keep my eyes on Trace so saw as his face flushed, watched as his eyes glazed over just as his body spasmed his own release; my name ripping from his throat in a voice that was raw with lust.

  Our eyes never left the other so I saw the heat spark in his as a grin tugged at his mouth. He started down the hall.

  "Don't fall asleep, sweetheart, I've not had my fill of you yet."

  My entire body clenched with desire before I asked, "No?"

  He looked positively wicked when he replied, "Not even close."

  The next day Chelsea and I were having another girl's day at Trace's apartment: painting each other's nails, eating chocolate and watching movies. Trace was off with Rafe giving Chelsea and me the apartment to ourselves. Before he left, he asked me to please not leave and that if we wanted to go somewhere to call him and he would come with us. I couldn't deny it, after Heidi's warning, I wasn't at all eager to go anywhere without him. I was scared but I was also angry because I was frightened enough by the threat that Dane posed that I was unwilling to go anywhere alone. And what the hell was his deal, anyway, why was he so fixated on me?

  I was on the phone in the kitchen placing our order for lunch with the local Chinese place while Chelsea was in the living room cuing up Twilight: she was a major team-Edward fan. I entered the living room carrying two glasses of iced tea and noticed that Chelsea was looking at the pictures on the wall. I smiled because Trace's walls were no longer empty, granted most of the pictures were of me, but Rafe and Chelsea were also on the wall as were pictures of my family. I walked over and handed her a glass as she pointed to a picture of my mom.

  "Is that Amanda?"

  To say I was speechless wouldn't be an exaggeration as I pulled my eyes from the picture to Chelsea.

  "Yes, how did you know that?"

  "I've seen her before."

  "When?"

  Chelsea, oblivious to the fact that her words were twisting me into knots, walked over to the sofa and took a seat before she looked up at me with guileless gray eyes.

  "She came to the house once when I was younger."

  "Your house in Ohio?"

  "Yeah. I remembered her because she was the prettiest lady I'd ever seen."

  I had to sit because I had a feeling my legs weren't going to hold me up much longer. "Do you remember when this was?"r />
  "Yeah, I had just turned six. I remember because I was playing with my new Strawberry shortcake dolls: Lime Chiffon, Orange Blossom and Raspberry Tart."

  I felt my heart beating painfully in my chest when I asked, "You were born in August of 1985, right?"

  "Yeah."

  Oh my god, August of 1991 was when my mom was killed. I needed to call my dad.

  "Excuse me, Chelsea, for one minute."

  I hurried down the hall to the phone in the bedroom and dialed my dad.

  "Ember, how are you honey?"

  "Dad, I've got Chelsea over and she saw a picture of mom and recognized her, not just recognized her but knew her name."

  This was met with silence.

  "Dad, she said mom visited her house in Ohio in August of 1991."

  The exhale that came across the line held both shock and pain and then my dad's soft voice came over the line.

  "What did she say?"

  "Not much but how's that possible?"

  "I really don't know. I'll call your uncle."

  "Let me know, Dad."

  "I will."

  Later, I waited in the living room for Trace to return from dropping Chelsea off at home. I'd been thinking about what Chelsea said as I tried to come up with some explanation to make sense of it but the only point that I kept circling back on was if my mom had been in Trace's home before she died, and she was killed by Trace's dad, then was her death an accident or intentional? I heard the key in the lock seconds before the door pushed open and Trace walked in. He looked over at me and smiled which immediately faded into a look of concern.

  "Ember, what's wrong?"

  I was holding my mom's picture as I walked over to him.

  "Chelsea saw this today and asked me if this was Amanda."

  Trace's expression was the same one I had. "How did she know that?"

  I reached for his hand before I replied, "Trace, apparently my mom was in your house."

  "What?!"

  "Exactly. My dad and uncle are looking into it."

  He squeezed my hand. "You understand what this means?"

  "That her death may not have been an accident."

  There was pain burning in his eyes but there was something else, too, something that looked a lot like panic before he replied so very softly, "Yes."

 

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