Spare Parts (Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 1)

by J A Wynters

  “Gabriel.” she sighed my name as if resigned.

  I pulled her closer still, as her body softened and moulded against mine. My mind flooded with need; a need that had nothing to do with the deviant desires I had towards her, but all to do with the feelings I was pretending I didn’t have for her.

  Her breathing became shallower and her chest fell and rose against mine. I enjoyed her softness against all my hard edges, the feel of how her body fit perfectly around mind. Having her this close made my body burn.

  “Oh, luce mia,” I whispered over her. “You’re driving me crazy.”

  I fell into an uneasy sleep, fighting the demons of my desire.

  When I woke up, she wasn’t in the bed. Light filtered in from the rest of the apartment that somehow seemed lighter, as if the oppression of sickness had lifted, like a demon has been exorcised. I remained motionless, listening. I could hear faint clinking and a soft pop. A moment later, the smell of fresh coffee filled the room. I sucked it in letting it wash over me. I just had the best sleep I’ve had in almost ten years. I felt like shit.

  I got up and went straight to the bathroom. I splashed water over my face and gurgled some water and toothpaste. When I re-entered her room, I made the bed, opened the curtain, and cracked the window open to allow the air to freshen it.

  She froze for a second when she saw me in the door frame, her face relaxed and she looked at me from under long lashes as she took a long sip from her coffee. She hadn’t put on any pants, and my eyes flicked over to her long, slim legs drowning under the oversized T-shirt.

  “Are you going to offer me one of those?” I grizzled.

  "Figured you must know your way around here pretty well, so you can just help yourself.”

  I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head. She just shrugged, sidestepped me and went to sit on her couch. She folded her legs beneath her and sat facing me, her face taut with the effort of not smiling.

  “How do you feel?’

  “Good. I feel fine, thank you.”

  “Good.” I searched for my shoes. They were by the door where I left them. My jacket hung over the side of her couch. I grabbed it and slipped it on.

  “You’re going?”

  “No one is making me coffee.” I shrugged.

  “Gabriel I—”

  “I need to get home to Spots. He doesn’t like being alone.”

  “Oh, right.” She tapped a finger on her cup, the gentle tinkle the only sound between us. “Gabriel?” Her hazel eyes were full of wonder, creased at the corners with hesitation. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

  “Which part?”

  “That you don’t want to make me sad.”

  I bit the inside of my lip, where was she going with this? “Yes.” I slipped into my shoes avoiding her eyes.

  “Well then, can you stop avoiding me at work? Can you stop pretending there’s nothing between us?”

  I slammed my eyes shut. When I opened them, I looked right at her. “No Mia, I can’t do that.”

  “Why?” Her jaw clenched and her back straightened.

  “Because there is nothing going on, and there never will be.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “No.”

  “Lair.”

  I took a step towards her, my nose flaring, “Don’t call me that.”

  “Then stop being a fucking coward and tell me the truth. Why did you stay here? Why did you take care of me? And why do you avoid me all the time?”

  “I already answered all those questions.” I took another step until I was looming over her shape on the couch.

  “With lies.” Her neck corded and her teeth bared, and all I wanted was to tear her clothes off and fuck her like the animal I was.

  I bent over her, my face inches from hers. My hand found her neck, and my thumb rested on her chin. “Because, Mia, I am infatuated with you. You’re too beautiful and too smart and too fucking sexy. You’ve invaded my dreams and my life, and you’ve crawled under my skin. I cannot stop thinking about you; your red lips and your soft skin, your smart mouth and your incredible smile.” My hand squeezed around her, “But I cannot have you, I do not want you, and I will not allow this to happen.”

  Her eyes blazed and she flicked her tongue over her lips. “Liar.” She hissed.

  My mouth slammed into hers, and my fingers dug into her flesh as she kissed me. Her tongue slipped past my lips; coffee and mint danced in my mouth as her hands closed around my face, and her fingers tugged at my hair. My heart thundered and the air crackled around us. She moaned and it was all I could do to not be completely undone.

  I pulled away and met the challenge in her eyes. Wild and needy, desire painted her body.

  “It’s too dangerous.” I stepped back and reached for the door, slamming it behind me. I heard her call my name, just once. I didn’t stay. If she opened that door or called me again, I would not have been able to stop myself, to walk away from her. My whole body was on fire, lit by lust and desire, by the need to own her and break her, feel her and claim her.

  I should have fired her, should have pushed her out of my life, should have fucked her and dumped her and never given it a second thought.

  Except that I would have.

  I would’ve never been able to wash her scent off me; the feel of her would forever echo on my body and burn beneath my skin.

  I needed her.

  I wanted her.

  She had to go.

  She took the rest of the week off, which both pissed me off and scared me. It pissed me off, cause I knew she was fine. But it scared me, because I wondered if I was ever going to see her again, taste her again, feel her again.

  Mia walked in the following Monday morning dressed in a buttoned-up shirt. The top three buttons were undone, the collar pulled wide to reveal the swells of her breasts and the cups of her black bra. She tucked it into a short skirt that hugged her body and highlighted all her curves.

  She strolled right by me without a sideways glance and slammed the door to her office, where she stayed for the remainder of the day. When she was done, she walked out. She spent the entire day pretending I didn’t exist.

  Good.

  Not good.

  Perfect.

  For the rest of that week, she continued her little game. Each day she dressed more provocatively than the next. She made no eye contact, even as I struggled to peel my eyes away from her. She didn’t address me in any way, didn’t come down to the workshop, and didn’t say goodnight at the end of each shift.

  By Thursday, I was eating myself up from the inside. She was only doing what she was told.

  But was she?

  On Friday afternoon, Mia strolled onto the workshop floor and said she needed me to look over some paperwork with her. She found a discrepancy and couldn’t work it out. She tried to remain calm, but her voice was somewhere between anger and despair. We were both hanging in the same tree, stretched out on parallel limbs; the only question was whose would break first.

  My heart thudded against my chest as I approached her. Accounting papers spread over the desk. I inhaled her scent. The manufactured wildflowers mingled with her earthy tones of rich grass and open fields. It was intoxicating being so close to her again. The faint odorous reminders she left behind every day were no match.

  “How’s Alice?” Her tone was formal and cold.

  “Fine.”

  “Good. I’m sorry about what happened, I never meant t—”

  I cut her off, “Did you bring me up here to talk about my mother?”

  “No.”

  I leaned over the desk, my elbow brushed her arm, and she flinched away. My insides constricted with heartache. I clenched my jaw and sucked in a deep breath.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “This.” She pointed to a line of print she had highlighted and pointed to a number of other pages that spanned the last decade.

  I glanced over the pages knowing what they were. “That’s no
t a discrepancy.”

  “But these transfers have no name and don’t follow logical patterns. Random figures, random dates, same account. The amounts seem too big.”

  “They’re not too big.”

  “Are you hiding money somewhere?” Her eyes blazed with accusation.

  “No.” I remained calm despite the venom in her voice.

  “So, what are these?”

  “Donations.”

  Her face crumpled in disappointment, and she reached for her bag. “You know I need this job, but I will not get involved in anything illegal.”

  I didn’t move. “There’s nothing illegal going on here.”

  “Then tell me what these payments are for.” She turned to look at me, her eyes wild, her face heated, and her mouth slightly opened—just enough to slip my tongue into.

  “You’ll just have to trust me. All those are above board.”

  “Trust you?” She laughed and made to walk by me. I turned my body and blocked her path. She tried to sidestep me, but I stepped in her way again.

  “Trust me.” I searched her face. I could see the battle behind her eyes, it was raging inside me also; the body and the brain at war, wrong and right, good and bad, darkness and light.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why? When have I given you a reason not to trust me?”

  She stepped back and laughed again. The laughter held no mirth, just desperation. She folded her arms across herself and flayed me with a look. “You’re a liar.”

  I ground my teeth and inhaled, “I told you not to call me that.”

  “And I told you, I can’t be involved in anything illegal.”

  “Fuck Mia, what do you want? The money is donated.”

  “To who? You don’t have a charitable bone in your body, and none of these so-called donations are claimed back on your tax.”

  “It’s because I don’t want to claim it back.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because you’re not meant to.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Move out of my way.” She pushed against me, and suddenly I was wracked with the need to prove to her that I wasn’t such an asshole.

  I grabbed her arm and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” She pulled against me, resisting, fighting.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. So I’ll show you.”

  The tightness in her face softened, and she allowed me to lead her out of the room.

  I released her arm at the top of the stairs and called Spots. “Hey boy. Hey buddy. Do you want to go visit Simone?” I noticed the tinging around Mia’s mouth when I mentioned the name and smiled. “She misses you a lot. Let’s go see her.” Spots leapt up and I scratched his head. His tongue lolled and he jumped to the door, leaping up and down in anticipation.

  I held the door open for Mia and she squeezed by me, her body avoiding mine at all costs. I smirked and followed Spots who was already several meters ahead.

  We walked in a charged silence. Angry electricity crackled between us—mistrust and loathing.

  “Why are we walking?” Mia grumbled after a while.

  “I like walking.”

  “How much further?”

  “Not much.” I clenched my jaw, holding back a smile. “Don’t you like spending time with me?”

  Mia huffed and increased her pace, following Spots who was leaping up and down. His twisted leg scraped at the pavement.

  We rounded the corner, and Spots bolted in through a back door. It was cracked open and the backlight shone in invitation.

  Mia gave me a questioning look, and I nodded. But she stopped by the door unsure.

  A whiff of wet dogs and dry dog food coated the air as I opened the door and stepped inside. The narrow corridor was lined with shelves stocked with dog food, blankets and shampoo. I made a mental note that Simone seemed short on flea powder.

  I gestured for Mia to follow. Through the door, we could hear the barking and howling.

  We followed the light till we walked into an open space. Eight pens lined the walls and housed a number of dogs. Simone stood in the middle of the room, Spots jumping up and down while she ruffled his head and scratched his ears.

  When we stepped into the room, she looked up and her face lit up. “Hi, Gabriel. I wasn’t expecting you today.”

  “I wasn’t planning on coming, but Spots missed you.”

  “Of course, he did.” Her smile widened. Simone rounded her desk and pulled out a treat.

  “Here you go, Spots. You’re just a good boy.”

  Spots grabbed the bone and went to perch on a dog pillow by one of the pens. He chewed idly, his tail wagging wildly.

  “And who is this?” Simone noticed Mia for the first time. She stood in the middle of the room, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted, and her hands limp by her side.

  “Sorry, Simone. This is Mia.” Comprehension crinkled her already furrowed forehead, and her eyes twinkled.

  “Oh! So you’re Mia.”

  Mia’s head cocked as she heard her name. Pulling her shoulders back and holding her head high, she was all business. She extended her hand out to Simone, who raised a questioning eyebrow at me. I shrugged. Simone accepted the hand and shook it lightly.

  “You know about me?”

  “Your name has been mentioned once or twice.” Simone knew politics.

  “Ah.” Mia let the subject drop with Simone’s hand. “You’re a dog shelter?”

  “Yes. Thanks to Gabriel and his generosity, we’ve managed to become one of the biggest in town. We also offer some veterinary services.”

  “How many dogs can you house?”

  “At any given time, we house between thirty and fifty dogs. Our capacity allows for seventy but, I’m happy to say, it’s never come to that.” Simone gave Mia a warm smile. “Come, let me show you.”

  Mia flashed me a look as Simone grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Simone was about to give her the grand tour. The nursery for the sick and the injured, the playroom, the introduction room—Simone was in her element, the crow's feet around her eyes softened, and the lines around her mouth stretched out as she talked about the place and animals that she loved.

  I watched Mia.

  Arm in arm with the older woman, she allowed herself to be whisked away by the excitement; she showed genuine interest and made Simone feel heard, loved, respected. That was the one thing she was incredible at—making you forget all your faults, making you feel like you were the most important person in the room at just that one moment. I could see how Simone took to her.

  Every now and again, Mia’s eyes flicked over to me. Something akin to confusion and appreciation clouded her face.

  When they returned, Mia was hanging on Simone’s arm as if they had known each other for years. They giggled and clutched and snorted. It should have felt incredible. Somehow, it felt invasive. As if this woman had invaded my private sanctuary. She has already taken over my office and had been in my room more times than an employee ever should. Now she was here at Paw Prints Rescue, hanging off Simone, falling for her charm and her stories, indulging in her caring nature, and the face that put you at ease and never judged—not ever.

  I wanted to hold on to these rueful feelings, to dwell in spite and anger. But hope churned in my guts. Hope that Mia saw me as something other than a dark hole, an all-consuming piece of shit. Hope that she could, if only momentarily, believe that deep down inside I wasn’t a monster.

  But you know that isn’t true, now don’t you?

  Simone led Mia back over to the corner where I had slid against the wall and was patting Spots. Oblivious, he chewed on his treat. Both women looked at me and their faces lit up. It was as if Simone’s admiration had infected Mia. Her cold and callous demeanour seemed to have melted away and was replaced with something akin to forgiveness.

  Simone released Mia and stepped over to me. She bent on her haunches and patted Spots, who released his treat and licked her
hand. She giggled at his enthusiasms. “Oh Spots, you’re a good boy, Yeah, you are.” She scrunched her face, spoke through pouted lips and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

  Simone’s forest green eyes locked with mine, the crows feet stretched under a smile. “I see what you mean.” She whispered to me and returned her attention to Spots. I pushed away from the wall and stood up.

  “We can’t stay. I still have work to do. I’ll be back on Saturday. I see you’re running out of flea bath; send me a list of anything else you need.”

  “Why don’t you take the weekend off? I have Alex coming for a few hours, and she’s much better with people than you are.”

  I shrugged, no point arguing facts. “Sure. But, I still want that list.”

  “Of course.” She looked to Mia, “I don’t know what we would do without our guardian angel.”

  Heat rose to my ears. I raked a hand through my hair and tried to push the embarrassment down. Why did I feel like a kid around this woman? Why did I care what she thought?

  Mia shot me a lingering look, “I bet.”

  “Come on buddy, home time.” Spots skulked up, the treat still half eaten in his mouth.

  “Why don’t you leave him here with me again? He can have a play with some of the other dogs, and he’ll stay upstairs with me like last time.”

  I looked from Simone to Spots and back to Simone who beamed at me.

  “He’ll be fine. You know he will.”

  I sighed. “Hey buddy, do you want to stay the night?” Spots let his treat drop to the floor and leapt up at me, licking and wagging his tail. “Okay buddy, no problem.” He rubbed his nose against my hip once more then jumped down, retrieved his bone, and returned to the corner bed.

  “I guess he’s staying.”

  “Great, it’ll be nice to have some company.”

  “I’ll come pick him up tomorrow.”

  “Sunday will be fine too.” Simone winked at me and turned away towards a large bin containing dog food. “I have to do dinners and water, so I’ll see you Sunday.” She shot Mia a quick look, “Nice meeting you, Mia.”