Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  I was there - that sweet spot where everything came together. The picture was no longer blurry; I could see it - I could see Blaine - as clear as day. And I no longer played my guitar; I became it. I no longer sang; I was song.

  But now you see

  The mess that I’ve made

  Feeling so desperate

  Just wanted the pain to fade

  Time and time again

  Tried to push you away

  I know that I’m crazy

  But you make it okay

  Blaine’s eyes never strayed from mine as he sat as still as stone. Even when some bleach blonde bimbo tried to grab his attention, he was unmovable. Unshakable. Just as he had always been. Blaine was a constant. My constant. Somehow he had become just as necessary to me as Dom or Angel. He had become my family.

  As we neared the conclusion, I let my eyes close and just…felt. I let the emotions those lyrics evoked flood through me. I let the truth of those words set me free from fear and worry.

  This wasn’t only for Blaine. No, this was the Emancipation of Kami Duvall. The once broken girl who had put herself back together. The scared child that survived even when she didn’t have the will to. I kissed that little girl goodbye. I let go of the fear that had been my only friend at times. I didn’t need it anymore. I had love.

  I’m not afraid

  Of monsters and ghosts

  But the thought of losing you

  Is what scares me the most

  I opened my eyes once the song ended, and Blaine was right below me, standing at the edge of the stage. His cheeks glistened with tears, and his deep brown eyes were rimmed with red. The sight of him sent a surge of courage through my veins, and I stripped off my guitar and handed it to Angel before jumping down to join him below. I didn’t even hear the raucous cheers and claps. I just needed to hear his voice, telling me that it wasn’t too late. That I hadn’t lost him.

  “Hey, roadrunner, where’d you go?” he asked in a raspy voice.

  I smiled. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

  “I thought you were done running.”

  I nodded. He was right. He always called me on my bullshit, and that’s exactly what I had been afraid of. He saw me for what I was.

  “I am. I have nowhere else to go. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Blaine rolled the barbell in his mouth as I had seen him do a hundred times. The temptation to suck that tongue into my own mouth blossomed in my belly.

  “So, where do you want to be?” he asked.

  “With you.” There was no hesitation. No fear.

  “But you said…Kam…” he stammered. Blaine took a deep breath and took a step towards me, filling the air between us with scents of mint and spice. He lifted a hand and stroked the length of my cheek where a faint scar had been left behind. I didn’t even stop myself from closing my eyes and reveling in the feel of him.

  “Kami…” he whispered. “Why? Why now?”

  I opened my eyes so he could see the conviction in them. “Because you’re the exception, Blaine. And, honestly, I was a coward. I was terrified of feeling this way about you.”

  He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. “And how do you feel?”

  A flush crept up my cheeks as I reached up on my tiptoes and softly kissed his lips, catching him off guard. “I love you,” I murmured against them. “I love you so much it scares me.”

  He pulled his mouth from mine just far enough to meet my eyes. “Scares you?”

  “The magnitude of what I feel for you, the thought of losing you for good? Yes. Scares me to death.”

  My hands found his and I pulled them up between us, holding them to my chest. “Blaine, the scariest part about love isn’t love itself. It’s letting go and plunging into the unknown. It’s trusting someone with the very most sacred part of your heart. It’s allowing yourself to feel something foreign and uncharted, despite how much it terrifies the hell out of you.

  “The scary part isn’t loving you, Blaine. That part’s simple. It’s the fall. I fell a long time ago, and you know what? I’m not afraid anymore.”

  I didn’t have a chance to utter another word, as he pulled me into him and claimed my mouth.

  Yes, claimed.

  This was no kiss. Blaine marked me for life. Branded me like the vibrant artwork that covered his magnificent body, making me his forever. Every stroke of his tongue soothed the lonely ache inside me, erupting a new ache that had me quivering in his arms. My knees went weak and buckled, causing me to sway. But Blaine had me. He had never let me go.

  Reluctantly, I unraveled my arms from around his neck, and shimmied out of his tight grasp. “I have something for you,” I said, turning to grab my purse that was strategically stashed nearby. That’s when I noticed Dom, Angel, and even CJ, watching us from across the room, their faces wearing varied looks of joy and pride. I smiled at them before turning back to Blaine’s curious expression.

  “Hold out your hand.”

  A questioning frown dimpled his forehead. “Huh?”

  “Just hold out your hand.”

  Blaine did as he was told, and I filled his palm with tiny, colorful origami stars. Many of them spilled onto the floor, and he scrambled to cup the overflow with his other hand.

  “Uh, babe, thanks, but I think you could’ve just left these in the jar.”

  I shook my head. “Each one of these stars represents a fear of mine. I started collecting these years ago, and soon it became less of a ritual and more of an obsession. And now…now they’re yours. Because, Blaine, the day I met you was the day that these began to lose their power. I had finally found something else to live for. So I want you to have them. I want you to take these from me for good. I never, ever want fear to keep me from the man I love again.”

  A smile spread across his full lips before he crushed them to mine. “You’re kinda fucking amazing, you know that?”

  I matched his amused expression. “Just kinda?”

  “Yeah. Just a little bit. And I love you. So damn much.”

  And once again, Blaine staked his claim on the part of me that only he had moved. Holding those tiny stars, he captured every fear, every reservation, and crushed them in the palm of his inked hand.

  Epilogue

  Blaine

  “Babe, where can I put this one?”

  I damn near drop the box I’m carrying and rush to Kami’s side, snatching the crate full of books in her hands. “Nowhere. You can let me deal with it. Kam, we’ve been over this. Stop it, ok?”

  Kami rolls her big green eyes and shakes her head. “I’m pregnant, not handicapped.”

  Yeah, that’s right. You heard her. Kami is pregnant. With my child. Cue the fucking marching band and flaming baton throwers. Kami is pregnant with my child.

  And ever since we found out two weeks ago after we got back from spending nearly a month in Australia, I haven’t been able to shake the stupid, Joker-esque grin off my face.

  Kami, of course, had a totally different reaction. Naturally, she was shocked as hell. We all were. She was still on birth control but, hey, I guess things got a little crazy Down Under. Couldn’t say I was pissed about it. Hell, I was elated. Guess my little tadpoles were more like fucking sharks!

  She ran the gamut of emotions: shocked, afraid, angry, sad, until she finally decided to be happy about it. This was a new start for us, a new beginning. We had a chance to finally write our own story. And I want to write it in bold, bright Sharpie for the world to see.

  Kami is mine. Our baby is mine.

  I give her a swift peck on her pouty lips before putting down the crate of books and ushering her to the couch. “I know you’re not handicapped, babe. But the mother of my child isn’t going to be lugging around boxes when she has an able-bodied man to do it for her. Now you relax, kick your feet up and let the men take care of the rest.”

  Kami sighs her resignation before propping her sandaled feet onto the coffee table. “Great. My baby d
addy is a male chauvinist cave man.” Then she cradles her flat stomach while looking down at it, a peculiar gleam in her eye. “Aren’t we lucky?”

  I stand there, completely mesmerized and bursting with pride. The way she touched her belly, how she smiled at it as if she was actually gazing at our little bundle of joy…that image will forever be engraved in my mind. It’s the type of thing that wars are fought and won for. That people live and die for. The kind of look that brings 300 pound, badass brutes to their knees, reducing them to sniveling pussies.

  The look of love.

  Not everyone gets to experience it. But if you’re ever so fortunate, remember it. Hold onto it and never let it go. Because you’ve been given a gift.

  “Dude, you just gonna sit there and fucking daydream or help us move this shit?” CJ scorns, nudging me with his shoulder as he and Dom maneuver around me with more boxes. “Fuck, how much shit does one chick need?”

  “Welcome to my world,” Dom chimes in, dropping a box labeled ‘Shoes.’ He claps me on the back. “You’ll soon be the proud owner of shower drains clogged with hair, bathroom sinks sprinkled with makeup, and the occasional wish-I-didn’t-know-you-did-that moment that leaves you with a permanent what-the-fuck? face.”

  “Nah, man,” I chuckle. “I’m ready. Bring it on.”

  Yup, you heard that right, too.

  After much persuasion, both in and outside of the bedroom, I finally convinced Kami to move in with me. We knew we wanted to raise our child together, and, hell, she was already over most nights, but Kami still had serious reservations about it. She had never lived with a man outside of Dom, and not having the crutch of her friends was seriously freaking her out. But she was getting used to the motherhood thing - you know, putting your own needs aside for your kid - and finally admitted that moving in would be the only logical solution. Plus, there was no way I was letting my newborn go back to the brothel known as Angel’s condo. That place had a revolving door of pussy, and some of it was pretty sketchy.

  A shrill wail grabs our attention and we all look towards the door in time to see Angel stumble in, her face streaked with tears.

  “Oh, Kam, I’m going to miss you so much!” she cries, falling onto the couch with her friend. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me with Dirty Dom and his band of glitter-wearing gutter sluts.”

  “I think you’re mistaking my dates with your Wednesday night stripper conquests. There’s still a layer of edible body dust on the furniture. I feel like Elton John every time I sit on the damn couch,” Dom retorts.

  Angel waves him off, yet doesn’t deny his accusations. “So Kam… you’ll still visit, right? We can go get massages and pedicures - Oh my God, can you still get those? Isn’t there like some bacteria you can get that’s not safe for pregnant women? And I read you can’t eat sushi. Sushi! But we love…”

  Kami cups Angel’s damp cheeks and smiles warmly. “Angel, honey, breathe. You’ll still see me. Hell, I’ll be at the bar almost everyday, like always.”

  “The bar?” CJ scoffs. “A bar is no place for a baby. Not my little cousin.”

  We all whip our heads to his stern expression. “What?” he shrugs.

  Hmph. My cousin, Craig Jacobs, the guy that made it his mission in life to sleep with the entire volleyball team in high school, the same guy who bribed the AV geeks to set up hidden cameras in the girl’s locker room, the very same man that vowed to never commit to one woman ever since his mom walked out on him and his dad, actually said something not centered on tits, ass or all things oral.

  Maybe things are changing for the Jacobs men. Hell, maybe there’s a chance that CJ could one day be as deliriously happy as me.

  After every box of shoes, clothes, books, and knickknacks is carried into the house, and Angel has cried herself dry, I kick everyone out. Finally, Kami and I are alone. In our home.

  Kami’s head rests in my lap as I play with her hair and massage her scalp. The TV is on, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her. The woman of my dreams. The woman that will make me a father.

  Damn.

  I can’t keep my hands off her. And knowing that her body is now more than just my personal playground, I can’t help but be in awe of her.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  My hand trails down to the edge of her jeans and up her shirt. I rub the bare skin of her belly, so soft and warm under my fingers. Without even thinking, I begin to hum softly, angling myself closer and closer to her stomach. It’s a bittersweet song for us. The song that touched Kami in a way that had her fleeing from the bar with tears streaked down her face. The song that prompted me to follow her, so I could wipe away those tears and hold her tight.

  I think that was the moment I fell in love with Kami. The moment she had branded me down to my soul.

  “Interesting song you’re humming. What makes you think we’re having a daughter?” she smiles at me.

  “A man can dream,” I beam proudly.

  “What? No bouncing baby Blaine to carry on the Jacobs name?”

  “One day,” I shrug. “But for now, I just want to be our little girl’s hero.”

  Kami places her petite hand on mine, lacing our fingers together as we cradle our baby tucked safely in her womb. Then, she looks up at me with that same peculiar gleam in her eyes, causing warmth to spread to every limb, and my heart to swell twice its size.

  The look of love.

  “I’d like that,” she whispers before leaning up and placing those pouty lips on mine, kindling the warmth into scorching white-hot heat. “Because you’re already mine.”

  DISASTROUS

  E.L. Montes

  Prologue

  Grabbing my wrist, he begged me not to go. With the blood pulsing through my veins, my rage quickly boiled. Turning to face him, I shoved the palm of my hands against his chest. I was surprised by my own strength. Although he was bigger than me, I was able to force him to stumble back a few steps, landing on the wooden desk. He managed to balance himself, but he didn’t move. His sorrowful eyes were staring into mine, pleading: those eyes that I once fell for, that I trusted, that allowed me fall under his spell. Those eyes now only filled my stomach with such vile disgust.

  Collecting my thoughts was impossible. My mind was racing a thousand miles per hour. I’d never felt so much pain in my life. I gave him one last look, but he did and said nothing. His eyes were saddened, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get away! I turned away from him and ran as fast as I could. I could hear him yelling my name.

  Snatching my purse from the table without looking back, I struggled to unlock the front door. I managed to open it with a shaky hand, tripping down the first few steps, realizing at that moment my feet were bare. Carelessly, I ran down the driveway and reached my car. I shoved my hand into my bag to collect my keys, but I couldn’t find them. Shit! He was by the door. Rushing in the process, I was able to locate them and jump into the driver’s seat.

  Looking up, I found him on the bottom step, yelling, begging me to stop. My heart was pulsing at such a rapid speed I felt nauseated and lightheaded. After turning on the ignition, I raced out of the driveway and onto the street. The speedometer reached ninety-five miles per hour. My hands were sweating, and my heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear myself breathe.

  After twenty minutes, I was far enough to pull over by the curb, checking my rearview mirror; he was nowhere in sight. I made sure the doors were locked. Then burying my face into my hands, I screamed and burst into sobs, allowing all the rage and betrayal to pour out. How could I have believed and trusted him? How could I have been so stupid; this whole time he was warning me, but I was blind and didn’t care … I wanted the good and bad … all of him.

  Knowing at that moment what he truly was, I realized that everything was just lies. Aarrgh! I looked down, trying to catch my breath. Through blurry, watery vision I caught sight of my cream silk nightgown spotted in bright red blood.

  My thoughts were uncontrollable. I was trying to ma
ke it all go away, and I pounded my fists against my temples, but all that managed to do was inflict additional pain. Why me? My chest felt tight, and it was so hard to breathe I was hyperventilating. After a few minutes of taking long deep breaths, I was able to control the airflow through my lungs. Then it all came back to me: the day I met HIM.

  Chapter One

  The month of April was so beautiful this year: clear skies, bright green grass, and a cool breeze perfect enough to wear a light jacket. It was my last day of class before my summer break began, and for some unexplained reason Professor Johnson required the entire class to attend the last day even after we’d submitted our final exam and paper. He was blabbing about what we learned in the entire semester of our Contract Law class. I knew I earned my 4.0 GPA, so I ignored his unnecessary lecture.

  Staring out the window, I continued to admire Harvard’s landscaping as students and faculty scattered around. This had been a tough year, and I was just happy to be taking a break. The last few months had been nothing but an emotional rollercoaster. Finally I was at a point where I could wake up without crying, go to school without zoning out, and enter a public place without the aching memories.

  My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a round of applause. I joined in as I knew the class was finally over. The students began to pack their bags. I quickly placed my laptop and textbook into my backpack and headed for the door. Professor Johnson was standing by the entryway saying farewell to everyone.

  I knew it would be difficult to walk by him without being pulled in for an intellectual conversation. So I attempted to hide my face by lowering my red cap. There were a few students in front of me, and I tried to blend in and sneak out, avoiding eye contact. I was almost out the door when Mr. Johnson shouted my name twice. A few students turned around, flashing sympathetic smiles. I couldn’t say I didn’t hear him. Slowly I turned on the balls of my feet and flashed a full-toothed grin. In return I was faced with the stupid, goofy smile I was beginning to dislike. Ugh!