Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  She says it with utmost confident that it would be nearly impossible to assume it’s a lie. Could she be lying to me right now? And lying so easily? I don’t know what to do. I really don’t. “Yeah?” I question half-heartedly. I glance at the video monitor that Brandi is holding in her hands as we both crawl into bed. Ambriel is undeniably Brandi’s daughter, but does she really have pieces of me in there? I just can’t shake it.

  “So how was work?” Brandi asks.

  “Not that great, to be honest,” I say. “Crazy ass Vivian showed up causing drama and got herself thrown out.”

  “Vivian as in your ex-girlfriend Vivian?” Brandi asks, her face scrunching up as though she had taken a bite out of a lemon.

  “Yeah,” I say. “She made a huge scene. Signed up for one of my classes and then grabbed at me. I pushed her off me, and then she pretended to fall over. Alexis drug her out of the building and took a picture of her to post around the gym so that no one will let her inside. It was completely crazy.”

  Brandi nudges me in the side. “You sure do know how to pick em, right?” She laughs.

  “Yeah, well, the whole thing makes me feel like shit,” I say.

  “Look, I knew all about Vivian, and I still married your dumbass,” Brandi said. “You cheated on me. I still married you. And you dumped her when you wanted to get serious with me, right?”

  “Yeah. I love you, Brandi. As soon as I realized I wanted to be with you for real, I left Vivian. I wasn’t going to keep stringing both of you around. I wouldn’t do that to you; I’d never lie to you,” I say the last bit in a serious tone, wondering if she caught on. I wouldn’t lie to her. I make a promise to myself now that I won’t. I won’t be the bad guy –not anymore. I’m done with that irresponsible version of myself. No more drinking, no more wild nights, no more random women. The question is –is Brandi willing to be the good girl? I always thought that she was, but after what Vivian said, I can’t be sure. Has she been cheating on me the entire time?

  “I love you too, Jonathan,” she says, breaking her stare away from the monitor for a brief period of time to look at me and smile. She clearly did not catch on to my tone. “I’m sorry Vivian harassed you at work today. Honestly, I got to say, if I were you I would leave the gym. I don’t know why you feel like you have to wait around on that marathon. I would just quit now. You’re boxing now –you don’t need that job.”

  My tone changes dramatically. It pisses me off –how many times is she going to try to get me to quit? “Damn it, Brandi,” I say, my voice raised, “I told you I’m not just walking out when Alex needs me. She gave me this job when I needed it, so I’m not fucking abandoning her after I started this whole thing. I’ll fucking quit after the marathon, all right?”

  She looks at me, snapping her head to the side. Damn it, I made her fucking cry. Fucking hormones and lack of sleep has her all jacked up, and I’m over here yelling at her like a jackass. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I just had a rough day, and I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”

  Brandi wipes a few tears away and calms herself down. “Sorry,” she says, “I’m not myself right now. I swear, I cried this morning when the cook scrambled my eggs instead of making them over-easy. What the hell? I’ve never felt so stupid. And the poor guy didn’t know what to do with me. I feel like a moron.”

  I laugh. “Well, aren’t you just a spoiled little princess?”

  “Shut up. I would never act that way normally, and you know it,” she says and jabs me in the side. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted, and Ambriel will probably wake up in just a few hours.”

  “Me too,” I say. “Goodnight, Brandi.” I kiss her forehead and lay down beside her. She curls up next to me and lays her head on my chest. I want to roll over and push her away. Fucking Vivian. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s going to be a long night.

  78

  “And you’re telling me it was loaded down with sleeping pills?” I ask, holding the phone to my ear.

  “I’m telling you,” Brandi’s dad says from the other line. “And it was a lot. Enough to knock an average sized person out for the night. A middleweight boxer like yourself, well, it would definitely slow you down. You really think Donte is drugging his opponents? That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

  “I think so. The sleeping pills were in his locker along with steroids. He’s cheating, and this is going to ruin his career,” I say.

  The man laughs. “Damn, Trial, when I told you to take the guy out, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Ha! He deserves it, though. I really would have liked to see you lay him out in the ring, though. Too bad.”

  I laugh along with the man. Good to know we have found something to bond over –mutual hatred for a jackass who hurt Brandi. “You’re telling me. But exposing this little scandal is going to be just as sweet.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  I lean back in my chair. I’m at home in the small office on the second floor; I rarely use it, but I felt the need today. The marathon is just around the corner, so I have a lot of paperwork coming home with me every day. The office is finally getting used because of it. “Well,” I say with a grin, “I’m going to start by calling my manager and letting him know. He’ll submit it to the board –the top dogs in charge of the league, and then there will be an internal investigation. And, thanks to you and me, they will certainly have plenty of evidence to take Donte down.”

  “Looking forward to it,” the man said. “I got to run. It’s getting late, and I got jury duty in the morning.”

  “Good luck with that,” I say.

  “Thanks. I’m going to need it,” he says and hangs up the phone.

  I lean back in my chair, and I smile. Donte is going down –and he’s going down big time. I really would have liked to have had a chance to fight the guy, though. Too bad. I go ahead and call my manager, Caleb, and I leave a voice mail. He didn’t answer –probably asleep, I assume. It is getting late. My phone starts going off again, and I look and see that it’s Laurel. It’s nearly midnight –what in the world could she possibly be calling me for? I answer, figuring it’s some sort of emergency for her to be calling so late. “Laurel?” I ask.

  “Hey, Johnny-boy!” her voice is loud, obnoxious, and slurred. Oh shit. My fellow former alcoholic just dropped the former.

  “Laurel? Where are you?” I ask.

  “I’m at a bar,” she sings.

  “No shit,” I say. “Did you fall off the wagon?”

  “No,” she says and laughs to the point she snorts.

  Awe man. “What bar, Laurel?”

  “You remember,” she giggles. “The one where we almost did it in the bathroom.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “How drunk are you?”

  “Drunk enough to call you,” she says, and she sounds pissed off. Great. Angry drunk Laurel. That should be fun.

  “Stay there. I’m coming to get you,” I say and hang up the phone. Brandi is asleep, so I don’t bother waking her and worrying her just yet. I head out, heading straight for the bar while behind the wheel of my trusty Volkswagen. When I arrive at the bar, it doesn’t take me long to find Laurel because she is getting thrown out. Apparently when she parties, she really parties hard. I hurry up to her and bouncer because she’s cussing the guy out, and he’s threatening to call the police.

  “Hold up, hold up!” I wave their way as I rush up to the bar’s back exit. “I’m here, I’m here to take her home.”

  The bouncer points a finger in my face. “Keep your lady on a tighter leash, man.”

  “Fuck you!” Laurel shouts at the guy, and I grab her by the arm.

  “Will do,” I say and squeeze her arm tightly. “Come on, we’re going.” I drag her drunk ass through the parking lot towards my car. I’ve only ever seen her this drunk twice –when we had first met and once at Tyler’s apartment, and it’s not my favorite side of her. Laurel is sweet, kind, and very loving –drunk Laurel is a horny bitch. />
  “Ooh, I like it when you’re rough,” she says when I force her into the passenger’s seat of the car and try to buckle her in. She grabs at me, and I slap her hand away. Fuck –it’s like I’m dealing with Vivian when Laurel is this out of it.

  I get into the driver’s side and head towards her apartment, and she is cussing me out the entire time about Brandi. It’s pretty obvious what made her fall off the wagon at this point. “Serves you right if she’s cheating on you,” Laurel says, her voice slurring, “I mean, it would have been one thing if you had just left me for your bitch ex, but the way you just walked out in the middle of the night shows what a damn pussy you are.”

  Well, there it is. “Yeah, I’m a pussy, Laurel, what can I say?” I mutter, trying to keep myself from getting pissed. I know she is just acting this way because she’s drunk; this isn’t the Laurel I know.

  I drag her drunk ass up to her apartment, and as soon as I close the door behind us she puts her hands on my chest and pulls at my shirt. “Come back to the bedroom with me,” she says.

  “Laurel, no,” I snap, and she pouts.

  “Come on, I know you miss me,” she says and then grabs me by my hair, pulling my face into hers.

  “That’s enough!” I shout and grab her wrists.

  “Fuck you,” she says and she starts crying.

  I do the gentlemanly thing and help her out of her nasty alcohol covered clothes and into something comfortable to sleep in. I get her to wash her face before eventually putting her to bed. Fifteen minutes later she is up throwing up and I’m shoving a trash bin in front of her. Eventually she is asleep again. I look at my phone. It’s nearly two in the morning now. I got to call Brandi. What am I supposed to tell her? That I’m babysitting my drunk ex? Yeah, I guess so. I call her, and I lay it out –I had only just recently vowed I was going to be completely honest with her, so I’m not breaking that now.

  She answers, “Jonathan? Where are you? It’s two in the morning?” she yawns which tells me my phone call had woken her up; I’m assuming she hasn’t been up worrying about where I was yet otherwise she would be really angry.

  “Listen, I don’t want you to worry, but I got a drunk call from Laurel, and I was worried she would get herself hurt. I brought her back to her apartment, but she’s sick as hell, so I think I should stay here. I don’t want you thinking-”

  “I see,” Brandi says, interrupting me. “You’re worried I’ll think you’re cheating on me?”

  “Well, yeah,” I say. “But I can’t just leave her here like this.”

  “Jonathan, I trust you,” she says. “And I trust Laurel too. Apart from being a former alcoholic, she seems like a good person. Take care of her. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks, baby,” I say.

  “I love you,” she says.

  “I love you too,” I say, and I think I actually mean it this time. Now to take care of Laurel.

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  79

  Laurel comes crawling out of her hole at about eight in the morning. I’m in her kitchen, having helped myself to some coffee and a bowl of cereal. She is wearing her favorite sweatpants and an oversized, purple t-shirt that I had put her in last night. Her hair is a mess, her eyes are squinted, and she looks like hell. “Morning,” I say with a frown, letting her know I am not at all amused.

  She frowns and rubs her eyes. “Ugh,” she says. “Damn it. I was hoping you wouldn’t still be here.” She looks really embarrassed and disappointed; she probably was hoping and praying I would be gone, but I wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to die from alcohol poison. I’m a thoughtful guy like that.

  “Just making sure you don’t need a ride to the hospital. You had a major slip, didn’t you?” I ask, glaring at her slightly. She’s better than this. So much better.

  She scratches the back of her head and eyes the coffee that I’ve brewed. “I was a jerk last night.”

  “Little bit,” I say.

  “I’m so sorry, Jonathan,” she says and makes her way over towards me to get herself some coffee. She doesn’t make eye contact with me. She rubs her forehead, pinching the skin between her eyes in a desperate attempt to alleviate a headache. “I feel so stupid. I was so inappropriate. I’m not like that, you know that, right?”

  “I know,” I say.

  She gets herself a cup of coffee and sips on it slowly. “I feel like a complete idiot, Jonathan. I am really sorry for the way I acted last night. I really don’t want to come between you and Brandi. I really am happy for you and for the baby… I’m just sad for me, I guess.”

  “Don’t be,” I say. “You deserve better than me anyways.”

  “I don’t know if I do,” she says; she rubs her eyes again. “Thank you for looking out for me. I probably would have wound up in a jail cell if you hadn’t showed up.”

  “Probably. I wouldn’t have bailed your butt out of jail though,” I say. I smile at her. “Laurel, what was this about? I mean, really?”

  “Honestly, it was about you. That’s probably why I wound up drunk calling you. Jonathan, I love you. I miss you, and I am so sorry that I tried to do anything last night. I don’t want to hurt your relationship with Brandi. I don’t. I’m not that kind of woman, and I hope you know that. I just got myself all worked up, you know? And you know I have a problem. You know how it is, I guess, as a former alcoholic. I just… slipped.” She looks away from me and slowly makes her way over towards the door. “I really appreciate what you did for me last night. You’re a good friend, but I think you should go.”

  “You’re right,” I say and stand, leaving my breakfast behind. I head towards the door, and I pause. I smile at her. “You’re a good person, Laurel. Don’t beat yourself up over this. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am –because that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. You have done so much for me, Laurel, and I hate that I-”

  She kisses me in the doorway, and I let her. I slip my hands around her waist, and her arms drape over my shoulders. I want her –I feel this horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I’m not around her. Right now in her embrace, I feel whole. Her kiss is slow and soft, and it draws me in. I feel like my arms just melt onto her, fitting into the natural contours of her body. I pull her closer to me, and our kissing becomes longer and deeper. I slip the tips of my fingers into the back of her sweats and then run one hand up her back up under her t-shirt. Our lips part for a just a moment, and I can feel her warm breath against my flesh, and I shudder.

  Laurel abruptly yanks away, and she looks horrified. “I’m sorry!” she says quickly and shoves me back out of the apartment; she slams the door in my face. This feels like our first date.

  I’ve never felt so broken in my life. I definitely should have been the one to pull away. I don’t think I would have let it go too far, but I shouldn’t have let her keep kissing me. I just miss her. I miss being with her. I miss her so much. Some days with Brandi are great, but even our best days simply can’t compare to the love and joy I feel just sitting on the couch with Laurel eating a pizza with a bad movie playing in the background. I wish I could have this with Brandi, but I don’t, and that shit Vivian threw my way is only making it harder.

  I wind up standing outside of her door for probably ten minutes –sort of like a pet that’s been tossed out and is waiting permission to come back inside. I want to hold Laurel in my arms again – I want to feel that wholeness. For myself, I had been at an all-time high as far as where my head was when I was with her. I was finally myself around her; I could be the best version of myself with Laurel, and I just can’t do that with Brandi. I love Laurel, and not being with her is killing me.

  The only reason I finally am able to pull my feet away from her door is because one of her neighbors keeps poking his head out into the hall to see what the hell I’m doing. Nosey asshole. I pull myself away and head outside towards where I had parked
the Volkswagen. I touch the hood, picturing what it used to be like –pink and falling apart. I had fixed this thing up while I was with Laurel, and I think that’s why I keep driving it instead of going back to my rich-snobby guy Ferrari. I hate the damn Ferrari. I’d rather drive this refurbished Volkswagen any day now. Laurel had fixed me, and I had fixed the damn car. I had changed for the better all because of her.

  I climbed into the driver’s seat, and almost immediately my phone starts going off. It’s Brandi. I answer it, “Hey, Brandi,” and I try to sound perky.

  “Hey. How is Laurel? Is she okay?” Brandi asks.

  “Hungover, but she’s fine,” I say.

  “But she’s okay?” Brandi asks.

  “Yeah. She just needs to drink some coffee,” I say. “She’s not going to be of any use to anyone today, though. How’s Ambriel doing this morning?”

  “She’s doing good. She’s been cooing all morning. So sweet. I think she misses her daddy, though,” Brandi says, and I can tell from her tone that she is smiling.

  “Well, I’ll be home soon,” I say.

  “Oh… oh my God,” I hear Brandi say, and her voice is shrill.

  My brain jumps to Ambriel. “What’s wrong?” I snap. A million different scenarios run through my mind in a matter of seconds.

  “Someone…. someone is in Ambriel’s room,” she says, “Ambriel’s with me… but I left the video monitor on…”

  My heart starts racing. “Get Ambriel and go hide in the closet. I’m calling the police, and I’m coming home right now!”

  “Please hurry,” she says, and I start the car –bringing the engine to life and peeling out of the parking lot and out into the street.

  80