Life Before Damaged, Volume 9

by H. M. Ward

  Trying to blink my tears away, they manage to escape and roll down my cheeks. I comb my fingers through his hair, brushing dark strands away from his forehead. I touch him gently at the place where the beam hit him. My fingers feel something warm and tacky. When I pull my hand away, it’s stained red. The hair at the back of his head is sticky with blood and it terrifies me. A sob escapes my lips.

  I bend down and place one small, trembling kiss on his mouth, feeling his warmth. He doesn’t move. Peter remains still. I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps I was hoping he’d return the kiss, wrapping his arms around me. He’s unconscious. In the real world, kisses don't magically wake people up from whatever is ailing them.

  I lower my body down on top of his, my ear resting over his beating heart. I place a hand over his firm chest. His heart is beating strong and fast, and his breathing is slow, deep and steady--all good signs.

  I know he can’t hear me, but with a shaky voice, I start talking to him anyway. I need to say it before it’s too late. Life is fleeting and every second counts. I can’t assume there will be time later. Sometimes, later never comes.

  “I’m so sorry, Peter. I should have left with you tonight, but I didn’t know what to do. It was stupid of me, I know, I just didn’t want to believe you. I was afraid you’d hurt me again. I should have listened. I may lose you before I even get a chance to say that--”

  I swallow the dry lump in my throat. The words get stuck. Trepidation at being rejected once more is playing tug of war with my words. I can't say it out loud. Every time I’ve given a piece of myself to Pete, he’s returned it, battered and broken. I’ve had too many regrets over the past few months, and I can’t let this be one of them.

  “I love you, Peter.” Saying it out loud, feels liberating, like I’ve been held back by heavy chains, pulling tightly around my neck which suddenly vanish. It’s bittersweet because all of this is too little, too late. It’s opened up a dam, and the words keep coming out and I can’t stop them. I just want him to hold me, but his arms lay still along the sides of his body.

  My voice is a scratchy mix of sobs and words, sad and happy and desperate. My fingers clutch at his shirt, holding on to him as if my life depends on it. “I love you so much. I have for a long time. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. I believe you, and I want us to try and see if we can be happy together. I want to show you what it feels like to be loved by someone. You deserve to have someone love you and, if you want, I can be that person. Just, please, wake up and stay with me. Don’t leave me, Peter. Please, wake up.”

  I rest my chin on his chest, looking up. I need to see his face. I blink the tears away and blink again. I sniffle back my runny nose. My eyesight is blurry and my eye is swollen, but I see something that gives me hope. His lashes flutter as his eyes move ever so slightly.

  I want to call out his name and kiss him, but the faintest ghost of a smile lines his lips, quirking up to one side. A crooked, arrogant, know-it-all smirk blossoms, making his irresistible dimple appear.

  A mixture of immense relief, giddy happiness, mortification, and frustrating irritation all fight for first place in this battle of emotions. I can’t believe he’s smirking! It’s that look that makes me want to both kiss him and strangle him all at once.

  “Hey Gina.”

  I blink. “You?” I stutter and shake my head. He was faking? I can’t believe he pretended to be unconscious. The ass!

  Among my sobs, a laugh manages to escape. He's the most perfect, beautiful, presumptuous, sexy, aggravating ASS! Here I am, pouring my heart out to him and he’s just lying here, making me look like a moron while I confess my feelings to him. I hate him, and I love him, and everything is perfect in the world again.

  I push myself up and straddle his hips. My hands swat at his chest, hard. "You're such a jerk, Ferro! I take it back, you freaking douche! I take it all back. Every. Single. Word." I'm half-laughing, half-scolding, tears of joy coming down while I slap his chest repeatedly.

  Peter starts to laugh and his hands go to my waist. I squeal when he rolls us over, pressing my back to the ground. I’m pinned down by a firm body of toned muscle, caged by two strong arms on either side of me, hypnotized by the most wicked, sexy sneer and the bluest of eyes. I bite down on my lower lip to stop from smiling so big.

  "So, I'm a douche, am I?"

  "Yes, you are." I try to pout and his eyes soften into a look so tender that I instantly melt inside. He gently wipes a tear away from my right cheek, just under my throbbing eye. The light of the flickering fire beside us is doing wonderful things to his soot-stained face.

  "Hey, you." His voice is just as soft as his gaze.

  "Hello." I'm suddenly shy, not sure how I should act around him anymore. This is all so new to us, and my head is still a mess, trying to come to grips with everything that has happened in the past twenty-four hours.

  Peter dips his head down and drops a small, gentle kiss on my heavy eyelid.

  "So, do you still take it back?" Peter lowers himself again and covers my face with light kisses. They travel down my cheek and along my jaw, making it hard to concentrate. He knows what effect he has on me, but his cockiness gives me courage.

  "Maybe. It depends. Do you?" I don't even know what I'm saying. Words come out of my mouth on their own.

  Pete is nibbling my neck, just under my ear, which makes thinking nearly impossible. He works his way back up to my mouth and, with his lips barely touching mine, says, "I meant every word I said outside the club. I'm not taking any of them back."

  With our lips still brushing lightly together, I smile. "Neither do I."

  Pete returns the smile and presses his lips onto mine. The kiss deepens and something shifts. Pete lowers his body onto mine, and I wrap my legs around his waist, keeping him close to me. The barn comes crashing to the ground with a thunderous boom, making us jump. The heat is almost too much to bear. Peter looks back down at me. His gaze is as intense as the flames, and it ignites something deep within me.

  The emotional rush of the night’s events overwhelms me. Adrenaline does weird things to people and I still have a ton of it coursing through my veins. The way he’s looking at me makes me hot all over. I spread my hands across his chest, over his shirt and dig my nails in.

  Pete’s gaze narrows as he looks down on me with devouring eyes. He lets out a sexy sound from deep within, as his lips come crashing down on mine.

  The moment is surreal. He’s propped on one forearm, his free hand sliding rapidly along my side, past my hip, and back up again. His hand slides up, cupping my breast like he can’t touch me fast enough. My hands fly to his hair. He jumps, and I realize I’ve touched him where he got hit on the head, but that doesn’t stop him--or me.

  He grinds his hips into mine, and I let out a moan in his mouth, loving the feeling it causes in my core when he pushes down on me. He responds by biting my lower lip and smiling. It's like the kiss in Central Park, but so much more.

  My hands travel to his back, and I claw at his shirt, damning it for being there. I want to feel his skin on mine. I reach down and find the hem of the garment before I run my hands up his back, feeling every ridge of every defined muscle under the pads of my fingers. Pete pushes against me once more, rubbing in the right places. He bites down on the sensitive skin of my neck making me gasp. My fingers flex, causing my nails to dig into his skin.

  I’m out of control. I’ve never been this wild before. I'm a ball of lust, but this feels right. Two people who love each other, giving in to each other.

  I claw at his back, and his free hand dips lower to unfasten my jeans. His mouth trails searing kisses down my left shoulder, making it sting. I suck in a small hiss through clenched teeth. The pain is excruciating and delicious at the same time. I press my hips up into him, wanting more pressure, more friction, more of everything.

  My hands slide down his sides, loving the feel of him beneath my hands. Bright lights flash before us followed by a deafening honk of a hor
n. I quickly release my grip on Pete and place both hands over my ears. Pete removes his hands from me just as fast and looks down, startled. A car door opens and the sound of footsteps crunching on rough terrain grows louder.

  “You two better stop that now. At this point, I don’t care which way you swing, Gee, or how long we’ve known each other--I’ll turn this lovey-dovey reunion into a three-way real fast. Christ on a cracker that's hot!” Erin. Always so eloquent.

  Pete and I turn our heads toward her, breathing hard, our chests pushing against each other with every breath. All we see is a black silhouette, standing in between us and the glaring headlights.

  Pete looks down at me with a glazed look on his face. “She’s serious about the three-way thing. You realize that?”

  I laugh, a bit stunned at my lascivious behavior. “Oh, believe me, I know.” Pete appears stunned by my answer.

  "What have you been up to these past couple of weeks?" Pete shakes his head at me in disbelief. He probably thinks that a three-way with Erin is on my been there, done that bucket list of crazy stuff to do, marked finished by a big-ass check.

  "Saving myself for you, I suppose?" His eyes study my face for a minute, then fill with remorse. He pushes off of me quickly and extends a hand to help me up. I wrap my arms around his waist, wanting him close, but he removes them gently.

  In my ear, he whispers, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that just now." He kisses my temple and walks away leaving me completely confused.

  I LOVE YOU TOO, ASSHAT!

  November 17th, 4:03am

  I wake up in the Ferro Mansion to Pete tucking me into my bed. I must have fallen asleep in the car on the ride here. He presses his lips on my forehead, whispering a barely audible, “I love you."

  He backs away, heading toward the bedroom door. His words have my skin sizzling, wishing for more. I never dreamed I’d hear him say those words to anyone, least of all to me, but they must be true because he thinks I’m sleeping. There’s no reason to lie.

  I sit up in bed and call to him. “Wait, Peter?” My voice is thick with sleep and smoke. I feel like I spent the night outside in Erin's neighborhood on garbage day. I’m filthy, I wreak, and I have unidentified crap in my hair. My right eye is throbbing and my tattoo is stinging, but I’m back home safe. Home. For once, the Ferro Mansion feels like a home because Peter is here with me.

  He stops in the doorframe and turns around. I can’t see his face, it’s too dark in the room and the light coming from behind him makes it harder to see his features.

  “Stay with me tonight? Please?” I don’t want to be alone. I’m tired of being alone. I want to feel safe with him lying next to me.

  I can't see him clearly, but I do see his head shake. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I’ll see you in the morning.” He sounds so tired, physically and emotionally. Apprehension sets in when he mentions morning, like a pin’s been pulled from a grenade and at any minute my life could explode.

  “Wait!” My voice is loud and slightly panicked. I crawl toward the foot of the bed and Peter meets me half way, sitting on the mattress.

  He puts a hand under my chin and his eyes search my face, concerned. "What's wrong?"

  “Will I? See you in the morning, that is? I mean are you going to go to the police?” My fingers twist the comforter, mimicking how my insides feel. I don’t want him to do it.

  Peter’s face relaxes. He brushes a thumb across my right eyebrow, and I cringe at his touch. He notices my discomfort and places a small kiss on my eyebrow. When he pulls back, he says, “It goes against my better judgment, but no, I’m not turning myself in—at least not tomorrow. After what almost happened tonight, there is no way I’m ever letting you go again. I don’t think I could survive losing you, Gina. I need you.”

  I climb onto his lap, and take his face in my hands. “I’m here, and I’m safe now. You’re not going to lose me.” We both lean into a tender kiss. It’s not frantic or passionate like outside the barn. This time, it’s slow and soft.

  His lips sweep over mine like a feather, barely touching me. The kiss is brief. Pete stands up, lifting me with him, my legs around his hips. Pete puts me down gently on the bed and tucks me back in safely under my blankets. He sits next to me with a worried expression on his face.

  “Gina, I need to ask you something, and I know this may be hard to answer, but this is important.”

  Pete exhales and stands up to pace around the room for a few steps. He sits back down, making the bed dip and he rests his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.

  “Peter?” He’s starting to scare me. If what he has to ask me has him fidgeting so much, it can’t be good.

  He lifts his head and closes his eyes as he says, “Did those guys touch you? I mean, I see they weren’t very gentle, but did they...” Pete’s voice trembles and his hands ball up into fists.

  I sit up in bed again and place a hand on his shoulder.

  He wants to know if they raped me, but just can’t bring himself to say the words. “No. At least, I don’t think they did. After they called me a corpse, I wimped out and fainted. I was out of it for the most part, but before I blacked out, their boss, or whoever he was, had specifically said not to touch me. Something about not having their DNA on me.”

  “Gina, if you don’t mind, I’ll have a doctor look you over first thing tomorrow morning, just to be on the safe side. I don’t trust them to have kept their word and it’s taking every ounce of restraint I have not to go find them and...”

  Pete’s anger is getting the better of him again, it’s rolling off of him in waves, so I do the only thing I know how to do to calm him down. I stroke his cheek with my hand. The effect is instantaneous. His shoulders slump and his fists relax. “Hey. It’s okay. I don’t think they did anything to me other than slap me around and try to kill me a little bit,” I grin at him. “But I’ll see the doctor tomorrow.

  “Get some rest, Gina. I’ll see you in the morning.” The mattress shifts as Peter gets off of the bed. Before leaving the room, he says, “I love you, Granz.”

  “You’re getting pretty good at saying it, Ferro. You sure you've never done this before?” I tease.

  That crooked grin lights up his face. “Smartass.”

  “I love you too, asshat.”

  The last thing I hear before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep is Pete chuckling down the hallway.

  PETER FERROMONE COLOGNE

  November 17th, 9:15am

  I step out of my bathroom and into my living room suite, dressed in a fluffy white Ferro robe. As I pad back toward my bedroom, I hear a knock on my door, followed by the sound of footsteps walking away. I open the door and glance down the hallway, but no one is there.

  I turn toward Pete’s rooms, just across the hall from mine. The door is closed.

  Two silver trays are on a serving cart next to my door. I roll it into my suite of rooms and can’t help but smile. On one of the trays, there’s an impressive selection of breakfast foods. Thick slices of freshly baked bread with fresh butter, a variety of jams and marmalades, crispy slices of bacon, a cup filled with steaming hot coffee with cream and sugar on the side, and a tall glass of fresh orange juice. What makes me smile the most is the single macadamia nut cookie in the center of the platter, right next to a beautiful red rose. There’s also a smaller, silver tray with two little white pills, painkillers from the looks of them, ointment for my shoulder, and a cool compress for my eye. He’s thought of everything.

  As I'm taking my first bite, I notice a note tucked under the plate. The silky smooth vellum paper is cream colored, with the Ferro crest stamped in gold at the top. The scent that drifts under my nose when I pick up the note doesn’t go unnoticed, and I laugh, imagining Pete spritzing some of his expensive Venetian Peter Ferromone Cologne on a love letter.

  I put my cookie down on the plate - because I totally started with the cookie – grab the rose and read the letter, written with perfect
penmanship.

  My rose,

  I hope you’re enjoying your breakfast in bed. The cook thought I was going crazy and almost called on the family shrink to have me medicated, but I assured her I've never felt better in my entire life--all thanks to you.

  I’ve arranged to have a doctor come see you in your room this morning. After she leaves, please take your time and meet me in my study. I’ll be waiting for you.

  Lovingly yours,

  Peter

  I can’t recall ever really swooning over anyone in my life, other than in front of boy band posters and the occasional movie star when I was younger. But this? Holy! Lovey-dovey Pete makes me swoon over toast! I hug the letter to my chest--enjoying the scent of it--and flop down onto my bed.

  I reread the note over and over again as I eat breakfast.

  WHERE IT COUNTS

  November 17th, 10:45am

  After the doctor leaves, I scramble to get ready to see Pete in his study. Clothes are flying left and right in my room, trying to find the perfect outfit. I settle on a cute black swing dress with a dark red floral pattern. It laces up the front, like a corset, with black satin ribbon and has black lace trim around the edge of the swishy circular skirt.

  My stomach is in knots as I stand in front of the door to his study. I’m going to count to ten and then walk in. Okay, I take a deep breath and exhale loudly.

  “You know, it helps if you use your hand to turn the knob. As far as I know, telekinesis doesn’t work.” He’s standing right behind me. Turn around Gina, turn around Gina, turn arou-

  “eeep!”

  Peter swings me around in a spin, dips me, and simply says, “Hey.” For a poet, he’s a man of few words this morning. He smiles, and all traces of my nerves dissolve.