Brutally Beautiful

by Christine Zolendz

  The walls of the room felt heavy against my flesh, moving in, taunting to close around me and collapse upon my body, trapping me. Sounds became solid and tangible. My antique hand-forged wrought iron clock drummed its heavy ticks and tocks inside my temples. Outside the window, rain hissed and clanked against glass like bullets from the sky. Creaks and groans of the floorboards under the rug cracking and whining from my weight sent splinters of electric heat up through my legs. Every sound was somehow physically assaulting my senses, and my breathing accelerated along with the beating of my heart.

  Desperately, I tried to focus on the image of Samantha, downstairs, trying to control my monster. I barely made it back down the steps without having an attack. All I had to do was see her.

  When I walked back into the room, Samantha was standing in front of the fire, staring into the burning embers as if they held all of life’s answers. For a moment, I stood quietly and watched her, wondering if I would ever really get to know her. Her pale ivory skin took on a golden glow in the firelight and I knew I would never again in my life see such a beautiful haunted woman. She raised her arms, twisting up the long dark locks of hair, and clasped them in her hands almost as if cradling her head from frustration. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she took in deep breaths, and I could do nothing to take my eyes from the curve of her breasts and the perfect contour of her hips. She was no cold-blooded killer. Someone hurt her and she needed to defend herself. A fierce wave of possessiveness washed over me and my mouth ran dry. I wanted to erase everyone she had ever loved, any man she had ever cared about, and take her all for myself. Obliterate every memory of anyone that had ever hurt her, and fill her mind with just me. Only me.

  Would she even want me after all I had said? Would she take me for half the messed up person I was? Why did it feel like she understood me, as if she’d been touched by violence too?

  There was no easy synopsis to give her for what I had gone through, but there was never an easy way to let people in when all you want to do is hide from the things that have hurt you. So, I understood her silence, her hesitation and her pain. I could have told her every little detail of my nightmare, but to what avail? I just wanted to give her some part of me, so she could give me a part of her, so she could trust me.

  There are never any easy answers for the questions that came with violence. Thomas made a goddamn videotape of his farewell speech, his suicide note to the world, and left it in the front seat of his car blaming me for everything, making everyone who watched it believe it was all my fault, which was all bullshit. I’d never known he’d go to such bloody lengths to hurt people. Nevertheless, for the rest of my life, I would constantly fight battles with invisible demons because of him, and whatever triumph I accomplished thus far was little to me now, as I stood in front of this woman, because I wanted to be a man she could confide in, someone who is not so damaged. Something about her, standing in front of those flames made me have hope. That made me calm, like the cool misty rain that comes after the chaos of a hurricane.

  There were things that I never wanted her to find out about me. There were things I’d done that I felt weak for doing, yet I did them out of feeling so helpless and so full of despair I saw no other options. Did she feel as helpless in her situation to have had to use violence on someone she had once loved?

  There were things that changed in me so completely from that one day that reverberated into everything and everyone in my life. My life became one huge domino chain, piece by piece, smashing into each other, knocking one another down. I was nothing more than a flimsy house of cards and one strong gust of wind tore me down, blowing my cards to the ends of the earth.

  The demons I faced were not only the nightmares from that day, but the faces of the people whom I let down every day after that, because I couldn’t hold myself together. My mother, God, my mother found me when I slit my wrists almost to the bone. I will never forget her expression. I will never forget that horror, and I would never forgive myself for it.

  I could remember that moment as if it were a mere minute before. My mother unscrewing the hinges of my bedroom door, so quietly that I had no idea what she had been doing until the door fell flat on the floor of my room.

  Tears poured from my eyes that day, for the first time since the shooting, when I was shoved into the back of an ambulance. The expression on her face broke my heart. See, I didn’t stop to think about how it would affect her; I just wanted to stop my own pain. The paramedics, if you could call them that, orderlies maybe, since they had no knowledge of anything medical, hauled me up and literally threw me into the back of an ambulance, and I bled all over the white sheets of the gurney I sat on since nobody thought to tend to my wounds. The whole ride, my mother got to watch in horror, my life bleeding out from my wrists. I did that to her.

  At the hospital, I was restrained in a lovely white form-fitting jacket that wrapped my arms fully around my body and I was labeled insane.

  The people I met in that hospital made everything worse for me, because I knew I wasn’t like them. I was touched by violence. There was no chemical imbalance in my head, no malfunction in my cerebral cortex, but no one understood this… They all thought I was mad just like before. The other kids in that asylum were terrifying, constantly listening and arguing with the shouting voices they heard in their skulls.

  Jesus told me to kill my dog!

  Yes! He did!

  My dog told me to kill my teacher!

  Yes! I fancy the idea too!

  An alien from the planet 971 in the Garfilplex Galaxy offered me a million shiny golden stars if I slit my wrists.

  Pass me the razor!

  You could see the madness and chaos when you looked in their bouncy nervous irises. That was where I learned to watch people, read the body language of everyone around me, learn their innermost thoughts and their next moves. You just needed to recognize the tightness in the skin around their eyes and the tension that coiled the muscles of their faces when they were about to have an episode, because their voices became too loud for them to handle. Or watch the corners of the lips of the nurses and the way they moved their fingers before deciding to inject you with syringes filled with brain-to-broccoli-induced-crap. I lived there for three months until my mother finally understood that I wasn’t insane, packed Dylan and me up, and left the country.

  Nothing had changed since I was that young boy. Now I was this award-winning novelist, with nothing…nothing but scary stories on paper. What was I truly doing, but glorifying murder and horror? Yet, how many fans did I have? Millions. So few of them have actually had their life in jeopardy, faced a near-death experience or been introduced to the real terror of violence. Their way of experiencing it is by being perpetually entertained by books and movies that safely portray it. If they only knew how it seeped into your cells and overwhelmed your psyche, I wonder if they would cease to partake. The truth is easy. Once you felt violence, most people couldn’t cope with it, they couldn’t even push the words through their lips. It instantly freezes the images in your mind, and those images are indestructible. Then there are people like me, who have been touched by violence so deeply that they completely lose their soul to it.

  “Are you okay, Kade?” Samantha’s voice, as soft as a symphony, floated through my muddled mind.

  I lowered the two glasses of brandy to the table, and sat down on the couch, eyes fixed on hers. I’d been hovering on the edge of humanity for far too long. I wanted to step away from that ledge and I wanted to love her. “Everything that happened…to me…is stained here,” I whispered, touching my hand to my heart. “It will forever be in my heart, but what I want, Sam, is to move it over a little so I can fit you in there too.”

  Her cheeks bruised crimson and I felt a surge of power knowing I could make a grown woman blush so deeply. She was taking all the chaos that constantly swarmed by mind and calmed it, without ever trying to.

  I needed her. Right then. Right there.

  She was going to
be mine.

  I didn’t want to let her go.

  Chapter 13

  “Undress for me,” he whispered, raking his teeth over his bottom lip. “Slowly.”

  He leaned back into the cushions of the couch, sliding his splayed fingers across the leather. “I want to know who Samantha Matthews is…unwrap every part of her for me.”

  The words blanketed me, wrapped me in warmth, tucking me in tight.

  “I want to see all of you, Sam. Every scar.” Leaning forward, his elbows pressed into his knees, his whispers tickled my ears, “Then I’m going to make you forget how you got each fucking one.”

  I was breathless as I looked at him, trembling, throbbing…he’d changed into a pair of black boxers and nothing more. My muscles ached to slide over him, and sheathed him in my warmth. I wanted to tell him everything, have him make me forget with his kisses and his words. And I could. I could forget everything in someone like Kade Grayson for just a little while.

  But I’m terrified.

  Shaking fingers grabbed the hem of my shirt, heat surged to my cheeks, and I paused.

  “Who made you frightened to stand in front of a man naked, Sam? Who broke you?” He asked in whispers.

  The questions made my cheeks burn hotter, and for a moment, I feared they would blister and peel; falling like broken feathers to the floor. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I slowly raised the soft fabric of the shirt up over my stomach and my breasts. A cool breeze lapped across my bare skin causing it to prickle and tighten. I lifted the shirt over my head and let it fall quickly to the floor.

  “Open your eyes,” his voice demanded.

  His stormy grey eyes glistened with appreciation as he slid his hand under the waistband of his shorts and placed his fist around his cock, “Samantha, you’re fucking stunning.” Below the silky material he wore, his fist started gently moving. “Now, give me a piece of your heart, Samantha. Tell me something.”

  The flames of the fireplace snapped and crackled behind me, the burn of its heat scorched my naked back, biting at my skin. The small bit of pain it brought gave me courage; but his stare, his stare made me forget my inhibitions. “The first time you kissed me in the trailer…it was the first time any man had ever called me beautiful,” I whispered, as I watched him pull himself out of those silky shorts.

  A single pearl of pre-cum rested on the head of his cock as his clenched hands glided over its thickness. My tongue craved a taste, as I watched the small opal bead tremble slightly and slide down the smooth edge of his tightened skin. My breathing changed, quickening, as the teardrop slowly dripped under his fingers and disappeared into the rhythmic movements of his tightly fisted hand. “I tried so hard to stay away from you, but I couldn’t get you out my head. Every time I thought of you, I became more and more consumed, haunted by you. The harder I tried to forget about the things you said to me, watching you dance, and fuck me, that kiss, the more obsessed I became. I couldn’t focus on anything else but you. I had no clue what you were doing to me; only that I needed you with such intensity that it terrified me. I found myself back at the bar watching you, like a junkie jonesing for my fix. You’re more than just beautiful, Sam.” His hands moved faster over his cock, his thumb rubbing its milky tears around its head.

  I was speechless. This was a scene in a rated-R movie, not something that happens to a woman like me in real life. His words had me hurtling through space, sweeping past stars with the brightness of the moon dancing its shadows over my skin. My thumbs slipped under the waist of my pants and I gently guided them down my legs and stepped out. I wanted to be the starring actress in this movie.

  Releasing himself, he leaned his hands on the edge of the couch and slowly stood. Paralyzed, I stayed in front of the fire and watched as he slowly closed the distance between us, stalking closer and closer, a hungry predator. The damp flesh between my legs ached with a nervous anticipation and suddenly he was on me, against me, my back thudding against the wall. He pressed his forehead to mine, and fixed his dark stare on me. “Beautiful is a pathetically weak word for what I’m seeing right now,” he growled.

  The coarseness of his fingertips trailed down the skin of my neck sending tingles of prickly gooseflesh along my body. His mouth touched me, two soft warm lips against the flesh of my neck and the lightest flick of his tongue. His chest heaved against mine. My heart raced as I leaned my back further against the cool wall. I could feel my pulse throbbing in every part of my body as his erection pressed against the flesh of my stomach. “I can’t get your taste out of my head, Sam.”

  Rough thumbs grazed along my jaw. His lips nipped my flesh again and again, raspy breath, hot against my skin. When his lips finally tasted mine, his savory flavor went to my head, his smell, and his touch. I was drowning in his warmth. His hands tore through my hair, his lips urgent and hungry. Just like in my trailer, you didn’t easily forget this kiss. I was a thirty-two-year old woman and I’d never been kissed like this before. Ever. Kade Grayson kissed the thoughts right out of my head, kissed my fears and anxiousness away, leaving me empty, and then poured himself in.

  With his lips still on mine, he walked backwards until the back of his knees hit the couch. Then his hands slid over my ass and he pulled me down against his body until I sat straddling his legs. His hungry lips kissed warm wet trails down my neck and across my collarbone.

  The scorching heat of his skin, bare, against mine had me panting. The strong grip he had on my flesh tightened as he pressed his tongue against one of my nipples. It swelled and hardened under his mouth. I could have wept with the need to melt myself over him.

  My hips rolled against his lap and the smooth taut skin of his erection slid just under my warmth. He ground his hips with mine and it made me want to slide my wet aching flesh over his cock. My muscles ached to wrap themselves around it, and bury him deep within.

  Teeth raked against my skin, and my eyes fluttered closed as I savored the nip. I held my breath until he nipped again and let out a small gasp as his hands pressed me closer and slipped down into the throbbing heat between my thighs.

  My flesh wept for him, his fingers, and his tongue and then when I could take no more, he climbed over me, wrapping my legs around his waist. Gray eyes fixed on mine as he suspended his face over me, his erection lying heavily against wet flesh. He paused, hesitated for a moment, basking in the need, standing against the edge of what was about to happen. I swirled my hips against his. I could barely stand the emptiness that ached inside me and it made me want to beg for him.

  Thick fingers grasped the back of my neck; lips hovered over mine, eyes locked. “I’m falling in love with you, Sam, and I’m going to let you destroy me.”

  In one slow brutal thrust, Kade buried himself in me and I was lost.

  His gasp shook along my skin as he moved inside me with slow deliberation. Muscles and tendons tensed, jaw clenched tightly trying to control the brutality of our lust. I didn’t want his restraint; I didn’t want his control. I wanted him.

  I arched my hips to his violently. The look of pleasure settled across his face, and his growl echoed against my ears. His movements quickened, tightened and hardened. Long savage thrusts, the thread and pull of fingers twisting in my hair, the slap of wet skin against skin, thighs soaked with lust, this tangled state of ecstasy was what they wrote books about. Tingling heat coiled in my thighs. The pressure of explosion throbbed along my insides, building and building, aching and aching.

  Kade bit into the sweaty flesh of my neck and I moaned a guttural sound as the brutally beautiful pain pushed me over the edge. My body jerked as my muscles began clenching around him tightly.

  “Oh, God, Sam…” he whispered fiercely as my muscles continued to clamp shut around him, and within moments his breath struggled in his throat as he stared into my eyes. “Look at me, Sam. Open your eyes and see me.”

  I hadn’t realized they were closed, but they were squeezed so tightly they ached. His eyes looked at me with such need that it made my en
tire body tremble and shudder uncontrollably, as he continuously thrust himself inside me. Pale grey eyes held mine prisoner as he spilled himself inside me with long hard thrusts, making me come again almost violently. I had never held someone’s gaze before through an orgasm. It was the most intense feeling in the world. It felt as if he was telling me something with his stare, spilling more than himself inside me. It was beautiful and dark, twisted and profound. I felt cherished, treasured, and as terrifying as it was; I felt as if this was where I belonged.

  That night, over and over again we explored each other’s bodies, tasted, touched, clawed, scratched, bit and kissed in the dark sanctuary of his home in every room. I had never spent a night with someone like that. I never spent a night with someone that made me feel like I was beautiful.

  When his lips finally pulled away, spent, it was as if the earth had lost its sun and I curled beside him under the blankets tucking my knees up against him for warmth. His breathing evened out as he fell asleep and I lay watching the reflections of lights in the dim room, fading into blurry colors. It reminded me of how easily any emotion can fade and shift into something you never believed you could feel. In a blink of an eye, fear could turn to bravery, happiness could turn to disaster and hate could turn to love. Kade Grayson told me he was falling in love with me and that I would destroy him.

  The suffocating sensations of hands around my neck made me crawl out of bed. I needed air, and I needed to think all these emotions through, because I wanted to stay in that bed with Kade, I did. I wanted my life to start over again with him, and have that Disney fucking fantasy, but let’s keep it real. Love wasn’t going to heal either one of us. I was not going to erase the events that took place in his life, just as he wouldn’t be able to save me from mine.