Until You're Mine

by Langston, K.

  “Thanks,”

  “I’ll be back to check on ya soon,” she crooned in a sugary southern drawl, leaving me with a wink and a smile that told me exactly what she wanted.

  Fat tips and my dick.

  And that’s exactly what Blondie would get tonight. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve taken a few of these girls up to my room before. What can I say…a man’s got to fuck, and these girls were all too willing. Most of them were all fucking gold diggers anyway. Out to financially and emotionally fuck any swinging dick they could slide their money hungry pussies on. At least I knew what I was getting and I always made it perfectly clear what they were getting…no confusion, no fear, and no fucking consequences.

  I played for another three hours, losing a few big hands but still coming out ahead. Before I cashed out, I found little miss Amy and gave her my room number. Just as I thought, she was good to go.

  When I made it back to my suite, I poured myself a drink and took a seat in the chaise. Three drinks later, my blood quieted and a blanket of exhaustion washed over me. I looked down at my half empty glass. Staring into the warm liquid, I tilted it back and forth as if it held all the answers. I knew better. I’d tried to find peace and truth at the bottom of a bottle before and it didn’t work then, just like it wouldn’t work now. No matter how much I drank, I could never drown her, or her memory. She’d had been a snake in the grass all along, slithering her way into my life, waiting for the perfect moment to strike…when I was weak and in love. My senseless heart should have known she was too good to be true, just like Katherine.

  No, she’s different.

  I swallowed two large gulps of the comforting amber. “Last time I listened to you, we ended up heartbroken and homeless. No fuckin’ thanks.” My heart was a dumb fuck. Better to let my head sort this shit out with a little help from Jim and a nice piece of ass. Speaking of which, I looked down at my watch. Fuck, forty-five more minutes. I sunk down further into the chair and closed my eyes, reminding myself of all the reasons I could never love again.

  I spent most of the day at the club, finalizing a big event we had planned for later that evening. We didn’t open for another few hours and the event wasn’t until ten, so I thought I would surprise Megan with an early dinner. She’d been distant lately and I was doing my best to show her more attention. Business kept me away from her more than I liked, but my marriage was important to me and when it boiled down to it…she would always come first.

  Out of the hundreds of beautiful women that frequented my club, she was the one who stole my heart. She played like hell to catch, refusing my advances over and over before she finally agreed to go out on a date with me and we’d been together ever since. She was intelligent, beautiful and best of all…she was mine.

  When I walked in the door, I was greeted by a mountain of luggage piled up in the foyer. Mostly mine and some that were new.

  Confused, I called out for her. “Megan,”

  Were we going somewhere? Fuck, why didn’t I think of that? God knows we needed a getaway. Smiling, I dropped my keys on the buffet table. A tremor ran through my gut and warning signs flashed left and right when she walked into sight.

  Megan’s eyes were cold and her glare had blood freezing in my veins. I couldn’t move anything but my mouth. “What’s up with the luggage?”

  She flipped her golden blond hair behind her shoulder and folded her arms across her chest. “Today is D-Day love,”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, a rock of dread hitting me in the center of my chest. “D-Day?”

  Fisting a large manila envelope, she walked towards me and extended her arm. “I want a divorce.”

  Fucking what?!

  I knew we were having problems, but divorce?

  With my heart in my throat, I reached for her. “Megan,”

  “Don’t fucking touch me. Here, take it,”

  I snatched the envelope from her hand, tossing it to the floor, my heart breaking with every word. I softened my voice. “Megan please, we can work this out. I know it’s been rough lately, but I don’t want a divorce, and I know you don’t either. Let’s talk about this?”

  “If you sign those papers and contest nothing, this will end well for you. But if you don’t, it will get ugly. Very ugly.”

  “Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on right now!?”

  “God, to be so smart, you’re so fucking stupid.”

  “Fuckin’ talk.” I roared, my entire body shaking with rage.

  How could she say these things? The woman I loved was kind and sweet and loved me with a fire so deep absolutely nothing could douse the flames. That’s what she’d told me.

  “I don’t love you. Never have. Wait, I take that back, I do love your money and your cock was fun too. I’ll always miss that.”

  What the fuck was she saying?

  Shudders tortured my spine as I stared into her loveless eyes. With a malicious smile, her perfect face completely shattered. She’d betrayed me, claimed to love me for what…my money? It felt like an anvil had just been dropped on me, crushing me and my heart forever.

  Fury like I’ve never known pulsed through my veins. “Get the fuck out!”

  “Why do you think I married you, Archer?”

  I stalked toward her. “I said get out!”

  “Don’t,” she ordered, throwing her hand up. “I’m warning you. Leave quietly and give me what I want or you’ll be sorry we ever met.”

  “I’m already sorry. I’m not goin’ a motherfuckin’ place. This is my house, in case you forgot. You moved in with me,”

  Clucking her tongue, she shook her head. “That all changed the moment you gave me your name. This is all mine now and I want you out. I had Anne Marie pack all your shit as you can see.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m just gonna walk out of here and give you everything.”

  “Oh, but you will. If you want to walk away from this with a shred of dignity, I suggest you leave now.”

  This shit hurt. This hurt real fucking bad.

  “Hmm…how do I get you to understand?” She tapped her manicured nail to her soft pink lips. Lips I’d worshipped. Nails I’d fucking paid for along with everything else.

  I grabbed her arm and started hauling her toward the door.

  “Archer, if you don’t let me go, I’m callin’ the police.”

  “Call ‘em bitch, I don’t give a fuck.”

  “I’m warning you.”

  “And I’m tellin’ you to get the fuck out of my house!” I shoved her toward the door a little harder than I meant to and she stumbled, falling square on her ass.

  Fuck!

  Instinct had me wanting to help her up. I hated her, but I didn’t want to hurt her. I just wanted her out of my life.

  What was fucking left of it.

  She scrambled from the floor, walking past me. “Remember, I tried to warn you.” She held her cell phone to her ear. “Yes, my name is Megan Brooks, and I live at 29 Eagles Landing. My husband has just assaulted me and he refuses to leave.”

  “This is a joke right? Am I being fuckin’ Punk’d right now?” I bellowed. Jesus, I fucking hope so…or I was about to tear this place apart.

  “Please hurry. Thank you,”

  “Megan, get the fuck out of my house. NOW!” Raw anger vibrated in my chest.

  Her icy blue eyes narrowed. “Go to hell,”

  “I’m fuckin’ there bitch. But it will freeze the fuck over before I give you one red cent of my money or this house. You came with nothing, you’ll leave with nothing.” I grinded my teeth and clenched my fists. “I never wanna lay eyes on you again.”

  “You won’t have to worry about that for a while,”

  A resounding knock pounding the door.

  “Las Vegas police, open up!”

  “Those words will taste like shit when you eat them,” she snarled then screamed. “Help!”

  Jerking awake, I blinked rapidly. Beads of sweat dotted my brow a
s I tried to quell the nausea rumbling in my gut. I pulled a hand down my face. Shit, I hadn’t thought about that day in years. Refused to remember the day the woman I loved dismantled my heart and my home. Until Katherine came along, forcing me to remember. Reminding me of all the reasons she could never be mine.

  A loud knock rapped against the door. Setting my empty glass down on the table, my foggy brain scrambled to the present.

  Blondie.

  The small knock came again but my heart continued to pin me to the chair. Why the fuck did this feel like cheating?

  She’s not yours.

  Yes she is.

  You don’t love her.

  Damn right I don’t.

  Stomping to the door, before I had a chance to change my mind, I flung it open. An annoying giggle tumbled from her mouth and my eyes immediately zeroed in on her lips. “I was just about to leave. I’ve been our here for like, forever,”

  Katherine flashed through my mind, anchoring my heart as I quickly pulled the distraction inside the room, pushing her against the wall. My brain continued to toss out image after image of long black hair, dark chocolate eyes, and a smile that could send my heart into a mindless fucking wonder.

  I pressed my swelling cock into Amy’s pelvis. My lips against hers, ravaging her mouth with my tongue while my hands roamed her body. The foreign feeling beneath my lips and palms quickly deflated my arousal while guilt sat like a boulder on my chest. Her lips were sticky, not smooth, and she tasted nothing like the flavor I craved.

  Releasing her, I took a step back.

  “What? Did I do something wrong?” she stuttered.

  I took back another step. “Leave,”

  “But I thought you said…”

  “I know what the fuck I said.” I lowered my voice. “Leave.”

  “Ugh, you’re an asshole,”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Scurrying out of the open door, I slammed it behind her.

  MOTHERFUCKER!!!

  Collecting a deep breath, I looked down and shook my head. My dick only wanted her. So did my lips, my hands and my stupid fucking heart.

  Perhaps I am stronger than I think.

  ~Thomas Merton

  Tears stained my face and the wad of Kleenex in my hand. My chest burned every time I thought about the look on his face, and the frost in his voice. Sitting next to my brother, who hadn’t said a word since we got back to my house twenty minutes ago, I found a steady breath. “Just tell me,”

  Alex sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Cami recognized him the other night and when we got back to the hotel, she Googled his name,”

  “What the hell do you mean she Googled him?”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t looked him up? You have no idea who he is, do you?”

  “Do you even know me? The only apps I use on my phone are Pinterest and Kindle.”

  He released a heavy sigh. “Maybe it’s better if I show you,”

  Alex pulled out his cell, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to me. “Read that,”

  The online article included several small pictures of Archer standing next to a woman. Not just any woman, a gorgeous woman. A woman he clearly loved. You could see it in his face and the way his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, holding her close. A pang of jealousy wrenched in my stomach. I studied the other picture. It was larger than the others and it showed an angry man, a heartbroken angry man. The LA Times headline read…

  “The Saga Continues”

  April 7, 2007

  Billionaire and Vegas Night Club Owner, Archer Brooks was back in court again today. This time to answer for the assault and domestic violence charges that landed him in jail more than eight months ago.

  The self-made business tycoon and heir to Brook Stone Oil arrived in town two days ago, and has miraculously managed to evade paparazzi and court reporters. However, that all ended when he was led from the courthouse in handcuffs today. Sources tell us that Mr. Brooks appeared to be agitated and combative after the court’s decision to put him on a two year probation as well as undergo anger management classes.

  He is currently being held in contempt of court for his outburst during the hearing.

  The divorce from his estranged wife, Megan Brooks continues to make headlines. If and when the two reach a settlement, Mr. Brooks’ estranged wife stands to walk away with at least half of his estimated $750 billion dollar estate, including homes in Texas, Colorado, Vegas, New York and possibly the south pacific. We will continue to keep you updated on this developing story.

  OH.

  MY.

  GOD.

  Archer had been married before? And been to jail, for domestic violence? Yes, he had a temper sometimes, but he would never put his hands on a woman.

  Would he?

  “My gut told me he wasn’t chill. He beats women for fuck’s sake.”

  I handed him back his phone. “He does not beat women.”

  “Well, there has to be some reason why he was arrested for domestic violence. And while most of the articles I’ve read about his divorce are pretty vague, they all suggest that there was an abusive relationship.”

  “Jesus Alex, how many articles have you read?”

  “Katy, the guy is all over the fuckin’ net,”

  I shook my head. “You don’t know him like I do,”

  “Do you really know him? You thought you knew Luke too and you see what happened there.” he reminded.

  Shit, he was right.

  While I didn’t know everything about Archer’s past, I did know him. Yes, he had a temper, but he would never hurt a woman. My broken heart reminded me otherwise.

  Ok, so not physically anyway.

  I pushed from the couch. The bottle of cheap vodka I had stashed in the freezer was calling my name. I knew it wasn’t a solution but tonight…it was the cure. Twisting the top, I pulled a red plastic cup from the cabinet.

  “You ok?” Alex propped himself up in the doorway of the kitchen.

  I took a long healthy swig of the clear liquid. It was cold in my mouth and burned like hell going down, but it was the only friend I had right now. “Regardless of what you think you know about him, you should’ve come to me first. You had no right to act that way.”

  He took a tentative step forward, guilt shadowing his face. “I know. I’m sorry. But when it comes to you, I gotta know you’re safe and this guy…he puts me on edge. The way he looks at you…if he ever puts his hands on you…”

  “Alex, I told you. He’d never do that. He might be capable of breakin’ my heart, but he’d never...not like that.”

  He released a worried sigh. “C’mere,” Alex pulled me into his arms and tears stung the corners of my eyes. I squeezed Alex tighter, willing them not to fall. “You need this. You need to see that there is more to life than this shithole town and all these assholes,”

  “I happen to love this shithole town,” Blinking back the tears, I looked up at him. “And I love that asshole.”

  “Yeah, I know you do,” He kissed the top of my head. “You’ve got plenty of time. Just think about it. And don’t drink too much of that shit.”

  “I won’t,”

  “Text ya when we land. Love you,”

  “Love you,” Leaving me with another long hug, he was gone.

  The song had been on repeat for hours but I could listen to it all night long. To say I was drunk was…was…what the hell was I saying? I don’t think I’d ever been this fucked up before. I could count on one hand how many times I’d been drunk, I thought, as I pulled my hand to my face. Whoa…I had like…fifteen fingers. I grinned, wiggling them in front of my numb face. The haunting lyrics gave me comfort, much like the vodka absorbing my blood. Fiona Apple’s lyrics echoed inside of my broken heart and rattled my damaged soul.

  The child is gone…

  I took another drink from the nearly empty bottle as the room swam in and out of focus.

  Dreams.

  They we
re all bullshit anyway. Falling in love was not like the movies, at least not for me. Why did he have to be the one? The one to complete and end me, the only one who ever gave me a taste of what I truly needed only to snatch it away. I tipped the bottle back once more and my stomach revolted as the warm liquid settled in my vacant belly.

  Shit, I was going to be sick.

  I stumbled to the bathroom. The roar in my gut and the hardness on my knees weren’t doing shit to suffocate the misery in my heart. When my body finally finished expelling the poison, I rinsed my mouth, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  You let him do this.

  Tiny damp hairs clung to the sides of my face like spider veins, and my eyes were bloodshot from all of the alcohol and tears. A surge of nausea plowed though me. Reaching for the hand towel, I fell to the floor and pressed my cheek to the cold tile. The coolness settled my screaming stomach, allowing me to close my eyes and release a soothing breath. The pain in my chest vibrated and my undying love sang low and deep, both uniting in harmony and claiming me.

  Forever.

  “Katherine,” His voice sounded so far away, yet he was so close I could smell him. “Baby, wake up.” I attempted to pry my eyes but they wouldn’t work. The light was too bright and my head had its own heartbeat. The roll in my stomach had calmed, but the nausea was still strong.

  Ugh.

  I’m never drinking again.

  A hand cupped my face as a cool cloth was pressed against my forehead. Was he really here?

  I’m dreaming.

  Well if I couldn’t have him in real life, this would be the next best thing right? God, I was so pathetic.

  “Did you drink that entire bottle on your own?” His growly voice got louder.

  Raising one lid a hairline crack, I struggled to gain focus. “What do you care?” My throat felt like it was on fire and my head was about to implode.

  “We need to talk,” Archer helped me up from the floor, holding me steady in front of him.

  He was freshly shaven and standing entirely too close. I licked my dry lips. “What the hell are you doing here and how did you get in?” Damn he looked good. Why wasn’t he in utter hell, like me? Oh that’s right, he’s a heartless asshole.