Beaten (Broken Book 1)

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Beaten (Broken Book 1) Page 26

by Rue, Rebekah


  I check in, and a bellboy escorts me to my room, asking me if I need anything before he leaves. I give him a no thanks and a tip, and he’s on his way. The room is grand, way too big for just me. Casually, I move around the room, running my hand over the cold marble when I notice a letter on a table by an elaborate vase of flowers.

  My sweet love,

  I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you arrived. I hope your journey here has been stress-free thus far, and I’ve booked you down at the spa to be taken care of. You will be my arm candy tonight, so I want you feeling your best.

  Can’t wait to see you, have you, and show you my world.

  Heath

  I’m floating on air right now, holding the letter tightly to my chest, smiling. My body floats into the master bedroom where I spin and fall backwards with my arms open wide onto the bed with a bounce. “Ah”—I sigh—“a girl could get used to this.”

  Just then a knock sounds from the front door. Clearly, I’m not expecting anyone, which makes me think it’s Heath. I sit up and slide off the bed, quick to answer the door. Twisting the handle and swinging the door open, I see a . . . man(?) standing there. “Hello, can I help you?” I ask.

  “Giiirl, close your mouth. You ain’t looking at Lady Gaga. My name is Vivo, and I get to have the pleasure of being your personal assistant this afternoon.”

  His manners are flamboyant. His hair is shaved on both sides of his scalp, and the long patch that’s left is dyed in a rainbow of colors and combed over stylishly.

  “Oh no, I didn’t mean to offend—”

  “Puleese, that’s not even possible.” He grabs my hand and pulls me. “We must be going. There’s a lot to be done, and with a little skill and magic glitter maybe, just maybe, we’ll have you done in time for the event.”

  Every inch of me has been made perfect from the bottom to the top. When I pass the mirrored door on the inside of the elevators, I can barely believe it’s me. Vivo dressed me in the most magical dress. Space is what it looks like, softly swirling shades of gray and stardust dripping down me. Any way I move, I twinkle like a celestial sky. It elongates my physique, making me appear tall, which I’m not, and it hugs my curves with perfection. My blond curls tumble down my back with only bits of my bangs pinned back. I’m ready. Vivo stands back and gasps. “Girl, you are living in that dress right now! My work here is done.” He leans in and does this side-kiss thing on each cheek. “Please thank that handsome man of yours for giving me the pleasure of taking care of you. I’m a jealous bitch right now ’cause you are one lucky woman.” I thank him as he waves a hand and booty-walks his way out.

  I amble over to the body mirror in the master suite and take one more, long look at myself. This must be what Cinderella felt like. I feel more than beautiful. My hands coast down the expensive bodice, over the thousands of tiny crystals, when something catches my attention, and I’m caught in Heath’s strong gaze. I watch closely as his reflection gradually steps flush to my back.

  My insides start to warm when his left hand slowly and lightly strokes up the bare flesh of my left arm while kissing and nuzzling my right side under my ear.

  “Do you want to know why I chose this dress?” I can’t stop staring at our reflection, where he’s touching me. It’s when he takes his hands off me completely that our eyes meet in the mirror. “Do you?”

  Do I what? I open my mouth to speak when both his hands frame my small hips and his nose traces down my neck and up around my jaw, making me shiver. The heat from his body and the warmth of his breath do nothing to distract me from the stone erection that’s pressing into the dimples of my back. “Well, since the pussy cat has your tongue, I’m just going to tell you anyway.” His voice is deep with passion. “This dress . . . I knew this dress was for you the second I saw it. It reminds me of the stars . . . and lakes. The stars we lay under the night I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

  I have to close my eyes and relive how alive and free Heath makes me. He doesn’t try to control me but gives me freedom. “I knew from the beginning I loved you,” he says. “I love how you had no idea that you were originally paired up with my buddy in our Anatomy class but I begged him to switch so you’d be my partner.” My eyes pop open and I gasp. “I love how tight you held my hand when we jumped into the lake because you were scared. But what I love most is just us. What we are. It’s intoxicating, like the rush of a rollercoaster. That’s how you make me feel inside.” Swallowing hard, we stare at each other for long hard minutes until I turn around and hug him hard. Slowly, his face drifts towards mine, and ever so softly he kisses the tip of my nose. “You are striking; I don’t want to mess with Vivo’s creation. Plus, we better get going; we’re late as it is.”

  The driver stops the limo in front of a red carpet running up to the front doors of a grand art studio. Photographers, roped off along the carpet, eagerly wait for the moment our feet touch red. The whole thing makes me nervous. “It’s okay.” Heath smiles and a dimple appears on one cheek. Heath’s hand lovingly encases mine, and he leads me out the door the chauffeur is holding open for us.

  Heath’s last name is called in all directions. “Mavrick.”

  Everyone observes his every move. Flash after flash, Heath subtly poses, slowly moving in the direction of the main entrance. I can’t help but feel awkward and in the way. I try sidestepping away, but Heath smoothly catches a hand around my waist and pulls me seamlessly to his side. “Smile,” he says through a debonair grin, and the flashes go wild. Bit by bit we advance through the front doors where Heath leads me about with a gentle hand on the small of my back. The place is buzzing with media and admirers waiting to talk with him. A humming excitement flows in my blood as I sip on champagne and make small talk. Fondly, I watch Heath in his fitted tux, his hair styled back, socializing with such gratitude. My chest aches to see how he’s changed, developed into a better man. A small group overtakes Heath, giving me a moment to browse. He’s so occupied he won’t even know I’m gone.

  His truly captivating work is on display in every room. Some pieces on a smaller scale hang on the wall, and then there are his large slabs. I notice more and more of his pieces mirror me, which secretly I love. They don’t show my face directly, but I know. Eventually, I lose track of time, roaming the building, when I feel someone gently touch my elbow and softly kiss the side of my head. The scent of cinnamon floats by, and the tension in my belly eases.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  “Hmm, why yes. I’m quite impressed with this Mavrick guy’s work. If only I could get some alone time to get to know him better.”

  A rumbling chuckle vibrates his chest. “I’m sure he’d be eager to give you an up close look at his head . . . I mean into his head.” Oh his smile is too much.

  With that, we are out of there.

  Chapter 25

  Talon

  Lo warned me that her school load is difficult this semester and she’ll really need to focus. Fine. We’re a little over a month in, and Lo is out with classmates prepping for their second exam. Me . . . I’m hanging down at Lady Parts, five minutes from the Starbucks Lo is studying at, getting pumped with the all the talk over the convention several of us are flying out to in Las Vegas.

  “Your girl going with ya?” Auto asks. Auto is one of three mechanics here. For years, he’s dreamed of going to one of these conventions, but two years ago his wife got pregnant, and I guess the baby has all kinds of health problems. So he basically works and does side jobs to pay medical bills and keep food on the table, nothing else. Poor guy, but he’s the best. I wouldn’t want a shitty surgeon digging around in my heart, replacing valves, reconnecting hoses. Well, that’s how we think of Auto; he’s the guy I want working on my car’s heart.

  “No,” I say, launching an old oil filter into the garbage barrel. I don’t want to talk about how mad that makes me. “She has to go back out to Texas. She’s scheduled to meet up with some contractors, something about letting them in the house. I’ll be fu
cking glad when that damn house is done already.”

  “Man . . . and it’s the same weekend as the convention?”

  I nod.

  “Well, you know what they say. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Auto’s body scoots out from under the car and he grins big. I frown. That expression is so overused, plus, it makes me sick to think what that means. Why would I stray from her when I worked so hard to catch her?

  “Ya know I have these great little pills on my work bench over there. They’ll help you with some of that stress I see you got.”

  I look off that way. Sure enough a prescription bottle is sitting on top.

  “They’re not prescription, but the buddy I get them from is legit and knows what he’s doing. Makes dealing with life a whole lot easier. Trust me!”

  I’m reluctant at first but then say fuck it. Why not? What’s the harm? I take two white tablets and chew them up like candy.

  “Let me know if you want more. Pass me that wrench, will ya?”

  Just as I open the door to Starbuck’s, I’m assaulted in the face with vaporized caffeine. Lo is saying good-bye to the group, two guys and three girls. She walks straight into my arms, and I make a point to pull her in tightly, taking her full lips, shooting the two guys in the group a make-a-play-for-her-and-your-nut-sacks-are-mine look.

  “Wow . . . did you miss me? I was only gone for an hour and a half.” She giggles.

  I lead her outside into the sunshine, giving her ass a swat. “Don’t start. I’m still pissed you’re not going to Vegas with me.” I hear her little huff. She knows how I feel; we’ve argued about this enough.

  “Talon, you have to understand that I’m very limited on time and—”

  I shut the car door on her, cutting her off. We can’t continue to fight over this. It only leads to her forcing me to take her home and me spending the evening next to a silent phone. But I can’t stop the feeling that every time we’re apart she comes back a little more distracted.

  I get in on my side and begin to drive. Her pouty-face silence is driving me crazy, and then halfway to my place, she orders me to take her home.

  “I’m a big girl, you know. You’re not my father and you’re not my husband.” Damn, her bullets hurt! She’s mad. She has her arms crossed over her chest and is peering out the front window. I drive a little more and pull up to the front of her place. She jumps out, and I jump out after her, grabbing her by the shoulder so I can turn her around.

  “Stop, don’t touch me!” She spins, breaking my hold.

  “Lo . . .”

  “No! My father did that controlling shit, and I’m not doing it again, and until you drop the military commander act, don’t call me!”

  I snap. I grab her upper arm way too hard and haul her ass into me. She makes a small cry of pain, her eyes going wide and enraged as she successfully shakes from my grip. Shit, look what I’ve done. I’m such an asshole. Her arm is flaming red; soon a nasty bruise will take its place. I’ve gone too far.

  “I can’t do this again.” Her face is sad. “Tell me about your family.”

  What? Where did that come from? My stomach revolts at what she’s asking. This shouldn’t be difficult to divulge, but every word I think about telling her stops before it can escape. She watches me with desperation, waiting for anything. Seconds tick by, and she begins to realize that, when it comes to that subject, I’ll always harden and give her nothing.

  She’s just now getting this because her shoulders sag. “It’s never going to change, is it?”

  People are stepping around us in the middle of the walkway, throwing daggers at me. They don’t need to say it because I can feel their thoughts when they pass by. I know she’ll support me, and I’m so angry with myself for not being man enough to be a man, holding this decay inside me. Still I shake my head no, making her frown.

  She takes a few steps away, as if she’s leaving, but turns back to me. “It’s just . . .” She shakes her head, looking away. “I tell you everything about me. You know every detail about my life, and you still have the nerve to pretend that that side of your life doesn’t exist.” She steps right up to me and holds a hand over my stone-cold heart. “I love you, but I have no idea who it is that I love inside here.” She waits, searching my eyes. My arms cross over my chest, and she pleads, holding my stare. “Stop me from walking away, through those doors. Say something, a shred of anything. Stop me.” My expression never changes from stone. Her eyes flutter with disbelief and a shine of tears. “Say something!”

  When I remain quiet, her expression basically says I just hung myself with the noose that was lying loosely around my neck. Her pleading eyes break away, and I ignore the reality that I just might have lost her. With that, she turns and enters her building, leaving me on the sidewalk. I rub my chest over my burning heart, hanging my head in shame.

  Lo

  His silence hung him. I know I should break things off, but that means I’m giving up on him getting better. Maybe I’m not the right person for the job.

  For a whole week, I dodge every form of contact from Talon. His attempts greatly intensify a few days before he leaves for Vegas. It’s two a.m. and I can’t sleep. It’s quiet and dark except for a pair of headlights that slowly pass my window. Could he open up? Could he not try to control my every thought? I don’t think I’m asking for too much here. Headlights shine through again but come from the opposite direction. They slow and curiosity has me barely drawing back the edge of the curtain to see a blue Ford at the curb. The tint keeps him unseen. I give up and dial his number.

  “What?” He’s all snark. My thumb hovers over the end button, but something inside me wants to know what has him creeping outside my door at two in the morning. I try numerous times to help him, to give him an open board to discuss his problems with someone who won’t judge. Someone who understands hurt and now has been freed. He could have that too!

  “What are you up to?”

  Hearing nothing but a heavy pause, I think he’s hung up for a second. “Hanging out with Jim and Jack.” Jim and Jack don’t make him sound like that. I’m sure something else is polluting his bloodstream.

  “Talon, you don’t have to go through this alone—”

  “Fuck you! You don’t hold my regrets; you didn’t see the sick shit I saw every day that I couldn’t stop.” I’m shocked silent. I have to move away from the curtains.

  “Yeah, just like everyone else, walk away.”

  I sit down on my bed and try to think out a proper reaction. Nothing I say will get through to him in this condition. He’ll only hear the negatives, but he speaks before I can, his tone completely on the opposite side of the quarter. “I need you so damn bad, every part of you, to survive. Don’t ever leave me. Promise me we’ll stay together forever.”

  What?

  “I swear to God if you leave me I won’t know how to handle things.”

  I do my best to remain tender and loving, instead of being freaked out as I am. The drugs are talking, taking control. I have to remember that. Perhaps if I can get him to come in and sober up . . . Maybe if he falls asleep in my arms, he’ll be better. “Talon, come inside.”

  “No.”

  “Talon, please, make the right choice.”

  “NO! I don’t want your useless pathetic pity.” A heavy squeal of rubber resonates at the same time the line goes dead, and I know he’s gone.

  For all I know, he could have died that night, a complete hazard to himself.

  The next day one steadfast plane soars in the direction of Vegas while the other touches down in Texas.

  Lo: Just around the corner

  This time I’ve rented a car. Heath has to leave town towards the tail end of my stay, and I’ll need transportation. He’s standing out front, waiting. I can barely make it out of the car before he swoops in, pulling me out and holding me high in his arms. “Mm, kiss your man.” My ankles clip around his back as he happily spins us around, kissing me dizzy, mixing our velvety smooth lips
with the sexy stubble across his jaw. Gently setting me down, he runs his hands over my shoulders to my biceps, and I wince, the large bruise still angry in a rainbow of blues and purples. Heath takes a hand and lightly pulls the sleeve of my shirt back. It’s then that our reunion takes a nose dive. “Please have a good reason for this.” His fingers trace the outline. “Did that fuck ass do this to you?” His hands are shaking with his temper. I try brushing my sleeve back in place, but he blocks me.

  “I’m fine. He knows he did wrong; now let’s get inside. There so much to do.” I’m a fool to think that’s the end of it. He follows me into my parents’ home too easily.

  “Strip!” Forcefully, he barks when we reach the space between the kitchen and living room.

  “What? No.” I blink with pinched brows, taking a step back.

  “I’m going to check every part of you since you think this is a joke. Strip!”

  “No, can we drop this? I’m not damaged; I’ve given myself worse bruises bumping into tables, so cut it out.”

  “Son of a bitch, Lo, you’re nuts if you think you’re going back to him! He better hope I never meet him in a dark alley much less in sunlight. I consider myself to be a pretty reasonable man, but when it comes to you, this boils my blood. Strip!”

  He’s all kinds of agitated. Stiff in form, his arms cross over his chest with his legs parted in a stance. It’s almost like he’s watching TV, pissed off, and waiting to get more pissed off.

  There’s no getting around this. He wants to be difficult; well, I can make this difficult. I start with my pants, every move seductively thought out. I loosen the drawstring on my shorts and steadily slip them down my legs, flicking them with a toe across the wood, between his legs. Those liquid eyes don’t even twitch, staying unsatisfyingly locked on me.

  Very slowly, I peel my shirt off, stretching my torso with a sexy curve. I make sure my hair loosely sweeps around my face, making it look like I didn’t do it on purpose. Lowering my arms, I let the cotton fall to the ground and lean into my other hand, like I need it softly fingering the hair out of my eyes. His broad shoulders stay square and he doesn’t move. Only the slightest flare of his nostrils is evident as he sets eyes on the bruise again. I take a minute to lick my lips and stare, feeling hot and needy for him. Our weeks apart did that to me. In only my bra and panties, I stand bare to him, itching to be touched, waiting on him to make the next move.

 

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