Redesigning Fate (Revive Series Book 1)

by A. M. Wilson

  We respond simultaneously; mine an irritated shout, his a calm, smooth declaration. I try to wrench my arm out of Travis’s grasp, but he squeezes harder.

  A low, feral sound comes from Elias’s chest. He steps forward, a menacing gleam in his eye.

  “I suggest you let her go,” Elias growls, and damn if the sound isn’t sexy.

  I’m playing with fire here; a miracle would occur if I don’t end up scorched. But by which man, I’m not entirely sure.

  Travis looks between Elias and I, twice, then thrusts me forward hard.

  My high heel catches, and I stutter, tripping forward toward open floor. Elias steps to the left catching me gallantly, righting me on two feet. He places a protective had across my stomach, sliding me smoothly a step behind him. Stalking forward, he plants himself in front of Travis and crosses his arms across his broad chest.

  “If you ever grab her like that again, you won’t live long enough to regret it.” His voice is low, a growl of a threat, but I don’t doubt that Travis hears every word.

  “Whatever, man. You know nothing about Lena and I. Whatever she told you is a lie. We’re just on a break. She’ll be mine again,” he threatens. “Because She. Can’t. Stay. Away.” He spits the words.

  His confidence is unnerving. He sounds so sure of himself.

  The glint in his eye sends a creepy vibe slithering over me. I shiver for the second time tonight, for an entirely different reason than the first.

  “You know that’s total fucking crap Travis, just leave me alone. You ended things the day you slid your dick into some other chick. It’s over, and I’ve moved on.”

  The last part is a half-truth, but he doesn’t need to know that. The truth is it killed me inside when he cheated on me. At first, I still loved him. At least I thought I did. I don’t love him anymore, but the sense of betrayal, of missing what was good, is still alive. I haven’t moved on because there wasn’t any closure. And I’m afraid of falling in love again. My body can’t take another Ben & Jerry’s, lounging around in sleepwear, cheesy movie marathon.

  “This isn’t over, Lena. You know it, and I know it,” he threatens and turns, stalking back over to the bar.

  Centering myself, I take a deep breath to quell my humiliation and turn back to Elias. “I am so sorry. That was… He is… I think I should go.” I duck my head and turn away.

  Elias places a hand underneath my chin, lifting my face to his. I suck in a breath as he brings his face a hair’s width from mine. Lips nearly touching, so close I can taste his sweet, warm breath, he wets his with a sensual swipe of tongue. My eyes zero in on those lips like a magnet, and I don’t move my gaze until he speaks.

  “I don’t want you to go. If you need to leave, let me come with you. We can go somewhere together.” It’s almost a whisper, a raspy sound filled with lust and promise, somehow audible above the thundering music.

  If I follow him, the possibilities are endless. We could continue dancing at another club or get a quiet table in a restaurant and share drinks and conversation. Get to know each other. But that’s too much like a date. Or maybe, we would hop a cab to his place, or mine, and get to know each other more intimately.

  Shit. I can’t do that. Any of it. I shake my head sadly.

  I have nothing left of me to give this man. Even though it’s been months, I’m broken. Seeing Travis confirmed I’m a mess. He can still get beneath my skin. Even if I’m not hurting anymore, it appears his presence still affects me. And I’m confused about his declaration that we are not over. Whatever that means.

  “I’m going to go home… alone. Thanks for the fun this evening. It was nice meeting you. Really.” I whirl around and head for the stairs. Elias calls after me, but I push my way through the shifting mass of bodies. For once, I’m grateful I’m so small, ducking and weaving through tangles of arms and legs. Glancing behind me, I sigh, not entirely glad I lost him. A part of me longs to see him chasing after me through the crowd.

  I weave my way out to the street and grab one of the awaiting cabs. I slide in the seat, slam the door, and rattle off my address while digging in my clutch for my phone. The car takes off as I type a quick text to Carly, telling her I had to leave because of Travis. It’s crappy of me to take off without finding her first, but I had to get away from Elias to clear my head. The combination of alcohol and hormones left me not thinking clearly.

  Quickly paying the cab driver, I climb out, and take a deep breath of the brisk night air, relishing in the calm it brings me. Sauntering up to my apartment, I unlock the door and flip on the light. There’s something bittersweet about coming home to an empty apartment. It can offer the solace I desperately need after a challenging day, or it can intensify the loneliness, allowing me to wallow in my retreat.

  I kick off my heels, peel the dress over my head, and dig out the comfiest pair of sweats I own. Tonight, I’m definitely finding more loneliness than solace.

  But as I crawl into bed, the images of striking cerulean eyes follow me into my dreams.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The rest of the weekend was uneventful. I spent Saturday in sweats, lounging around my apartment, and enjoying the last days before entering the full time career life. Sunday, Carly dragged me out of the house to buy a new wardrobe. A few pairs of black slacks, a pencil skirt, and several blouses later, she deemed me ready to start my new job. After hearing how I had first run into Elias at my interview, she picked out some extra sexy clothes in case he stopped by again. For all I knew, the guy worked there. We hadn’t exactly spent much time talking. We were too busy rubbing our bodies against each other while we danced.

  Monday morning, I wake up an hour earlier than necessary to give me time to map out my day and calm my nerves. Planning helps to keep my anxiety at bay, a trick I’ve been practicing the past couple of years.

  After a quick shower, I choose the black pencil skirt I purchased the day before, pairing it with a white ruched blouse belted at the waist with a gray belt, and my black pumps. They are my favorite and only real expensive shoes I own. Some girls like purses, but I’ve always been a shoe girl. If I had an unlimited amount of money, I’d need a separate room to house all the shoes I’d buy. I’ll never have that kind of money, but it’s a nice daydream.

  With my nerves so high, I can’t stomach more than a piece of toast and a cup of coffee for breakfast. I fill my travel mug with the rest of the coffee from the pot, grab my purse and tuck the work packet Michelle gave me after my interview into my black portfolio folder, and head out the door.

  A topaz blue Chevy Impala parked behind my car across the street catches my eye under the early morning sun. The color is striking. I’ve never seen it before. Normally I’m the only car parked out front. Tenants park in the underground garage, but it gives me the creeps. Something about parking underground and walking through the dimly lit garage alone freaks me out. I’ve watched one too many horror movies, and I don’t care to live one myself. I’d rather scrape the snow and ice off my windshield than park underground.

  Climbing into my car, I shake off my paranoid thoughts. What I wouldn’t give to feel normal and not have to deal with anxiety all the time.

  The drive over was smooth again, so I pull up to the law firm with ten minutes to spare. I park near the middle of the empty lot, not wanting to take any front row parking from our clients. Gathering my things, I stroll leisurely up the concrete sidewalk, daydreaming about seeing Elias here again. My new mission is to find out if he’s an employee or a client or a boyfriend (God I hope not, my stomach clenches at the possibility), I’m stopped when I almost run smack into the locked revolving door to the building. I jiggle my key ring from my purse, stupidly excited to break in my new key.

  “Hello?” I call out as I cross the threshold.

  The lobby is lit by overhead security lights, but there isn’t a sign of someone else being here. I walk toward the elevator, my heels making a horribly loud, echoing click-clack on the floor. My hair stands on end, skin
tingling as if I’m being watched. I can’t help glancing over my shoulder; my paranoia of being alone intensifying with each loud slap of my shoes. I speed walk to the elevator and stab the button hard as if this will summon the car faster. I can’t climb into the elevator fast enough, slapping the door-close button, watching through the shrinking gap between the doors for any sign of an intruder. My mind is playing tricks on me. Nobody is sneakily following me upstairs.

  To my utter relief, when the elevator dings, I step out to see a cheery Michelle waiting for me.

  “Good morning, Marlena. Are you ready to get started?” She asks in a chipper voice that leaves my earlier paranoia forgotten.

  “Absolutely!” I reply, trying to match her level of alertness. As she leads me to my desk, I let my mind wander to thoughts of more coffee. I’ll need the extra caffeine if I have any hopes of keeping up with her today.

  My first morning on the job passed by swiftly; Michelle kept me busy with answering phones, filing papers, and copying documents. Basic office work, but it helped me to familiarize myself with the surroundings. I met an intern working for another attorney down the hall while I was making copies. The firm employs eight attorneys, not including the two partners, Preston Brooks and Donald Boulder, and several support staff.

  At eleven o’clock, I’m interrupted from typing up a transcription by a delivery man holding an arrangement of sunflowers.

  “Are you Marlena?” he drones, clearly bored with his job.

  “Yes, can I help you?” I ask, eyeing the cheery bouquet. Those can’t be for me. Flowers aren’t Carly’s style, and I don’t know anybody else who would send me flowers here.

  “These are for you.” He sets the flowers down on my desk and leaves without another word while I stare dumbfounded at my new desk accessory.

  They are beautiful. Sunflowers are my favorite, but who would know that?

  Travis knew that.

  Oh God, if he is sending me flowers at work, they are going straight in the trash, doesn’t matter how beautiful they are. I search through the stems and flowers, but I can’t find a note. Why isn’t there a note? My fingers twitch around the vase with indecision about trashing them.

  My phone buzzes from my desk drawer, and I use it to distract me from my hesitancy.

  Dinner tonight. I’ll pick you up at five. Meet me in the lobby. –E

  Holy shit. My fingers shake as I type a reply. How did you get my number?

  His reply comes immediately. Your friend was more than eager to share it with me. –E

  Arg! Carly! I’m going to strangle her the next time I see her. Her heart is in the right place, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to easily forgive her. He could be a crazy person for all she knew.

  I’m busy tonight, I lie.

  My hands tremble as I reread our conversation. Blood pulses rapidly through my head, roaring in my ears. No, no no. No! There was a reason I left him at the club Friday night.

  Dancing with him was an exception, but it was only to throw Travis off me. If he thought I had moved on, he’d possibly leave me alone. Travis didn’t merely ruin me; he shattered me. And I’ve barely begun to pick up the pieces.

  My heart still aches for him. The comfort he brought me when times were good, and the familiarity of our relationship. But I can’t admit that, not to anybody, especially not Elias. Because I should be over Travis after what he did to me.

  Walking in on him sinking his dick into that blonde whore should be enough reason for anybody to move on, but it wasn’t enough for me. And if cheating wasn’t enough, the fact he laid his hands on me not once, but twice, should be more than enough reason. But I was lost, lonely, desperate. No family to turn to and a few friends he rarely let me see. Three years with him made me weak. He was controlling, possessive, powerful. I lost myself in his control, and it took all my strength to walk away. I don’t have any strength left to try it all over again. Not yet, anyways.

  My phone buzzes with another reply. Did you get my flowers? –E So he ignores my response and tries to change the subject? Two can play that game. I may not admit it to him, but I can’t deny the way my heart flutters reading his text. I’ve never received flowers before. The gesture is… thoughtful. Sweet. Although, Elias doesn’t strike me as a sweet kind of guy.

  I tuck my phone back into my desk. He can stew on my lack of response. Maybe he’ll take the hint. Or if he doesn’t, maybe I can sneak out before he gets here. I push the thought aside to deal with later and shift the flowers off to the side of my desk.

  Michelle is keeping me equally busy throughout the afternoon as she had in the morning, leaving me no time to plot my grand escape from the building without Elias noticing me. As five o’clock ticks closer, my palms sweat and wiping them on my skirt proves to be futile.

  There isn’t another way out, and I hate confrontation. Avoid it with every fiber of my being. Sighing, I grab my bag, slip by Michelle’s open office door to say goodbye, and meander to the elevator.

  Before I can press the down button, the doors open revealing a delicious looking Elias, decked out in black dress pants and a gray button down shirt, the top two buttons undone revealing a sprinkling of blonde hair. The sleeves, once again, are rolled to his elbows. His signature look, I’m noticing. My mouth waters at the sight of him. He catches me staring and flashes me an irresistible grin. I am a melted puddle on the floor.

  “I came up here to find you. I was fairly confident you’d show, but it’s ten after five, and well, you weren’t there. I couldn’t let you sneak away from me… again.” His voice sounds teasing, but his eyes register something deeper—hurt, vulnerability, anger possibly; I’m not exactly sure.

  “Uh, yeah. Look, I’m not so sure about going out with you tonight.” My eyes are burning holes in the floor; I can’t meet his gaze. He reaches out and runs the backs of his fingers along my cheek, brushing away a wayward hair, sliding his hand beneath my chin and grasping gently, lifting my eyes to his.

  “And can you tell me why not? By the way you’re glaring at the floor, I’d say I upset you, but I don’t know how that’s possible.” His voice is tender. Commanding, yet gentle.

  “It’s not your fault.” I pause, struggling to find the right words that don’t make me sound so weak. “I-I’m just not,” I turn my head away “I’m messed up and full of baggage. Shit. That guy from the club was my ex-boyfriend. He hurt me.” His eyes noticeably darken. “And I can already tell by how I feel around you that you’d be dangerous territory for me too. So that’s why I can’t go out with you. Not tonight and not in the future.”

  Smooth, fucking smooth. So much for not sounding weak. I duck around him, dashing into the open elevator. Before the doors shut, he slams his arm into the shrinking gap, halting their momentum. They bounce back, retreating into their spaces. It seems to take an eternity watching the gap grow larger before he’s there, glaring down at me and forcing his way into the car.

  Suddenly, the elevator is much too small. He advances, driving me into the wall behind me. His arms come up around my head, caging me in, and I shrink against the wall like a skittish animal. I stutter a breath, my lungs failing to expand as if my brain forgot how to breathe. Instead of the fear I should feel, considering my past with a dangerous man, I’m overcome with desire. His nearness, his smell, his tone, all coalesce into a raging inferno of lust. To the contrary, I find myself soothed by his proximity.

  “Don’t. Run. From. Me.,” he growls, his face inches from mine, blue eyes flashing heat and lust.

  At his insistence, I lose my restraint, quickly forgetting all reason about why I couldn’t go out with him. His words are fucking hot. What was I saying about dangerous territory?

  My arms come up like a marionette, fingers weaving into those gorgeous long blonde locks, tangling, pulling his head down to mine, lips mashing together in a heated passion.

  A low rumble escapes from his chest as he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping out, and demanding access into my mouth.


  I open for him, letting him taste me, tasting him with my own tongue, flicking and licking, sliding into his mouth. The air ripples with electricity, heat rising slowly throughout my body.

  The elevator dings, and he abruptly pulls away, weaving his fingers with mine. “I’m not finished with you yet. Not even close.” The hunger in his voice is unmistakable.

  It takes remarkable restraint to slow my breathing; however, there’s no hiding the telling flush of my cheeks. My intuition is flashing in my head like a neon sign. Danger! Danger!

  He leads me through the lobby, passing reception and towards the door. Even through my post make out haze, I can’t miss the look of contempt the receptionist shoots my way as her eyes take in my hand threaded with Elias’s. I flash back a smirk and let him tow me out the door.

  We walk unhurriedly down the concrete walkway, the pace maddening to my anxious body. Pausing midway down the front row of vehicles, he presses the key fob and the doors of a shiny red pickup truck unlock. We climb in, silence heavy in the air.

  I fidget with my seat belt, embarrassment setting in. Maybe I acted a little too passionately, scaring him away. I pick at my cuticles, staring at my hands twisting in my lap, while he turns the key, starting the engine. He smoothly backs out of the parking space and heads for the freeway.

  “I’m going to kiss you again when we get there.”

  With that one sentence, the air becomes heavy with tension, lust, want. My breath slowly seeps out of my lungs, like a balloon with a tiny pinhole leaking air. The anticipation is coursing throughout my body from head to toe, our heated elevator kiss replaying in my mind. I want to kiss him again, feel his lips move against mine.

  He lets the silence linger, knowing exactly what that sentence did to me. Instead of speaking, he reaches over and turns on the radio.

  My mind drifts; this situation is unfamiliar. Being entirely consumed by a relationship for the past three years didn’t helped my relationship skills develop. After Travis broke things off with me and I was moping around my apartment for weeks on end, I realized I should have spent the past three years dating around, discovering who I am and what I want in a man instead of being attached to one guy. Not only am I still hurting from what he did to me, I’m afraid and unsure of how to move on.