Dangerous Love

by Casey Clipper

  “Sorry.” Though she swore he was trying to hold back a laugh.

  “You scared me.”

  “Do you need a ride home?” he asked, his voice soft.

  She nodded, holding her hand to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, rebuking her apology, and held out his hand. She slipped her small hand into his large palm and followed him to his luxury sedan. He opened the passenger door for her and helped her inside. When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he turned on the heat and down the radio.

  “Do you know where I live?” she asked, her heart still pounding through her chest.

  He nodded.

  She didn't question that, assuming Derk mentioned her address.

  Five silent minutes later they pulled up in front of her apartment. He gallantly walked her to her door.

  “Thank you,” she said, pulling out her keys and shoving them into the lock. In most instances, Smith's silent behavior might cause most to squirm uncomfortably. But not her. She found his demeanor unthreatening and oddly enough, soothing. He gave off an air of security. "Tell Derk I said thank you for sending you to pick me up."

  “Mackenzie,” he said. "Derk didn't send me. I happened to be out and saw you."

  "Oh," she said feeling disappointed.

  He smiled, showing off a set of perfect white porcelains. His features turned light, his jaw squared, and his chiseled cheek bones transformed into model material. Really he should be gracing the cover of GQ magazine. Whereas Derk was more good-looking-bad-boy, the kind mothers warn girls about, Smith was a take-home-to-meet-your-parents material and want-to-reproduce-with to pass down those genes.

  "Make sure to lock up your apartment as soon as I leave," he quietly asserted. His tone direct and firm.

  "Thanks," she said appreciatively.

  He nodded, turned, and quietly left, like a panther slipping into the night. She watched him, mesmerized by his fluid movements. Finally, Mackenzie went into her apartment, thankful, for whatever reason, Smith stalked the night.

  ***

  Papers spread out over the oak coffee table, Mackenzie looked at the court documents that confirmed her first marriage a failure. Legally, she could resume her maiden name and try to pretend those few years never happened. But they had, and they left a definable mark upon her. Thank God she didn’t have children with the bastard to drag through the awful mess. She wished she could even say she learned some life lessons with her sham of a union, but the only advice she could give another woman was watch where your hubby sticks his dick.

  Sighing, she slumped back into the sofa with the papers that spelled out what she was to walk away with. Nothing. The only bright spot about the divorce agreement was that since she brought not one material object to the marriage, she didn’t assume any debt incurred from it either. Thankfully, the judge must have pitied her. That ruling hadn’t set well with her ex, but it was either that or he split everything evenly. He made it very clear that was not going to happen.

  “Hey,” Kayla interrupted her mind-numbing hatred for her former spouse. Her gorgeous roommate, dressed in simple yoga pants and tight baby-tee, leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry about falling asleep last night. I forgot to take my phone off silent after work.”

  Mackenzie shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I forget to do that all the time. I got a ride.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “I just don’t understand, Kay. What does it take? Where did I go wrong? What did I do wrong?”

  “Do you want my honest opinion?” Kayla asked and sat down beside her.

  Mackenzie nodded.

  “Are you sure?” Kayla warned.

  Biting her lip, she nodded again. What could her girlfriend possibly say that required a warning?

  “You’ve never had a family. You grew up in the foster system that chewed you up and spit you out every few months. I wish you’d had one of those homes where the foster parents adored and adopted you. There are great stories of that happening everyday. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for you. So what happened? The first guy you thought could give you a happily-ever-after, you married. Except you only saw him at face value. You didn’t want to look deep within him and you paid a price,” her best friend explained.

  “Thanks,” she bit out. That pinched.

  Kayla held up her hands. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you. Do I believe that asshole did you wrong? Absolutely. No one deserves to be treated the way you were, but you didn’t protect yourself. And that should be your first priority.”

  Sighing, her head hit the back of the couch. “I suppose.”

  “Not attempting to be viscous. Just giving it to you straight. I don’t want to see you make another mistake after dickhead.” Kayla shrugged.

  “Dickhead,” she quietly repeated.

  “Total, dick. Head.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  “Do you want to go egg his house? Or better yet, egg him and her when they come home from work?” Kayla waggled her brows.

  Mackenzie giggled. “You have no fear of jail, do you?”

  “Nope, Mom and Dad would bail us out and it would be swept under the rug,” Kayla answered, nose in the air, wave of her finely manicured hand.

  “Man, it must be nice to be connected,” she mused.

  “Oh, yeah,” Kayla agreed. She propped her feet onto the coffee table. “You have a choice. Either keep picking the same men‒ones who’ll only give you that initial quick short-term attention or go for the man who’ll be there for the long haul. The one who will invest in you and your relationship. The man, who when you wake up next to in the morning, will be there. The man who’ll hold your hand and get you soup when you have the flu. Hell, go to the store and buy you tampons. Or when you’ve got a bad case of PMS, instead of picking a fight with you, comes home with an insane amount of chocolate and a Nicholas Sparks’ novel.”

  “I think that’s asking a lot.”

  Kayla admonished and waved her hand. “It’s asking nothing. You’d do the same for him, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then why the hell can’t you demand that treatment in return? Why do you have to settle for less?” Kayla raised a challenging brow.

  Mackenzie couldn’t answer that question. Why did she think it was all right to settle for a man who didn’t treat her well beyond their initial courtship? Why couldn’t she find one who would do anything to make her happy? She definitely tried to make her ex happy. She would try her damndest for any man she was in a relationship with. That’s what partners do for each other. Her friend was right, she needed to change her requirements and recalculate what constituted a good partner. Maybe she should make a questionnaire.

  “Speaking of chocolate, let’s go to the store. Someone in this room is going to need a boat load of the fine stuff by the end of the week.” Kayla stood.

  Mackenzie laughed. “TMI, Kayla.”

  Kayla tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Just a warning, Mackenz. Just a warning.”

  “Maybe you should go visit your parents.”

  Kayla stopped and spun, her eyes glittering with humor. “That’s a great idea. Torture them for a week. Haha!”

  They both laughed and continued to giggle together as they hurried out the door for a day off excursion for single women lightheartedness. Thank goodness she had someone dependable in her life.

  ***

  It had been two weeks since Mackenzie had last seen or heard from Derk and she couldn't help but to feel a bit dejected. Apparently, all men found it quite easy to walk away from her and not look back. Talk about a hit on a woman's ego. As of late, she spent too much time considering what the hell was wrong with her that she couldn't hold onto a man, or her husband, or her parents. Talk about depressing.

  Instead of feeling sorry for herself for another night, she tagged along with Kayla and her girlfriends to a jazz bar. From the giddiness and ramblings of the girls, they
assured this bar was the place where real men hung out.

  Crammed around a tiny table listening to music and enjoying the evening, Mackenzie was engrossed in the relaxed atmosphere. Kayla and two of her friends found interested men within minutes of walking through the door and left the group. A couple of the girls would take occasional laps around the room or back to the restroom to scope out the takings. Each time they came back mumbling about Kayla always getting the good ones.

  "Where's the restroom?" Mackenzie leaned toward the girls to keep her voice low.

  They pointed behind them to the right of the bar.

  "I'll be right back," she said, picking up her purse.

  She found the ladies room quick enough and surprisingly it was clean and well kept. When finished, she stepped into the darkened hallway and stopped. A man with his jeans pushed down his hips had a woman cornered and was clearly fucking her.

  Oh, that man was not just having sex. Nope. He was all out punishing her with his body, and the woman wasn’t complaining.

  Really? Right out in the open? They couldn’t wait to take it home?

  "Derk," the woman cried out.

  Mackenzie stiffened. Squinting to get a good link into the shadowed corner, she caught sight of the longer black hair, the tattooed arms, the jeans and steel-toed boots.

  Immobilized, her legs couldn't move. Is that the type of relationship he sought after? Is that what he wanted in a woman? A whore who was willing to put out anywhere and everywhere? With no shame?

  It wasn't as if they were in a backseat of a car, a broom closet, an empty bar, or anywhere else that would be better secluded than a hallway of a busy jazz club.

  Derk grunted, pounding relentlessly into the woman’s body. Men passed by the duo, snickering with approval. Mackenzie watched, unable to peel her eyes away, partly fascinated, partly horrified. Yet another man who was supposedly interested in her, putting his dick into another woman.

  Groaning loudly enough to echo down the hall, Derk continued to relentlessly thrust his body into the woman. After what seemed like forever, he stilled and shouted, his voice resounding off the narrow hallway walls.

  Finally finding her legs, she turned and dashed back to the table, grabbed her purse and jacket, and ran from the bar. The last thing she wanted was to be seen by Derk. Plus, she needed to get the hell out of there and needed fresh air.

  She rushed to the bus stop and waited to get a ride back to her apartment. A crushed feeling grabbed a hold of her heart and squeezed tightly in her chest. A silent, single tear escaped down her cheek. For the first time in her life, she began to lose hope. A place she never thought she’d get to. A place she’d purposely avoided, afraid of where the path it could lead. She’d seen the darkness take many in the foster system who’d been sucked down a black hole. Her entire life she fought to remain firmly planted on two feet. But maybe she wasn't meant to find a man who worshiped the ground she walked on or have a family of her own. Maybe this was the lonely life she was meant to live.

  It wasn’t as if she had felt enough for Derk to warrant those emotions, it was that all she wanted in life was to be loved and desired by a man who gave a shit. Was that too much to ask from the universe? To want a stable life with someone who deeply loved her? She craved it. She felt the thirst for that life to her bones. Some days it ate away at her.

  Swiping the tears from her cheeks, she took a deep cleansing breath. There were times when she needed to have a mental berating of where she was in her life. This was one of those moments. She needed to get a grip on reality and what was currently important. Get on her damn feet financially and emotionally and prioritize. Those needed to come first above everything. She couldn’t afford to dwell on her heartbreak or lack of love in a good partner or family.

  She glanced at her inexpensive watch. Twelve-thirty at night. A cool fall breezed whipped around her. The black shift dress did nothing to warm her. She wrapped her arms around her body and waited for the bus to arrive. Her mind went back to her elementary school days and how often this same scene occurred then. Ironic how nothing had changed in close to thirty years.

  ***

  "Are you all right?" Kayla asked.

  Seated at the tiny kitchen table, Mackenzie sipped on her green tea. Last night she'd taken a header off the slimy bar at work and ended up in the ER with a goose egg on the back of her head. This morning she woke with what felt like nails being hammered into her skull.

  She shook her head a fraction and winced. "No."

  "Do you have pain meds?"

  "Yes," she croaked.

  "Did you take any?"

  "Not yet. I have to eat before I take them," she quietly answered.

  "I'll make you some toast," Kayla said.

  After nibbling on the toast, Mackenzie took her prescribed medication then went back to bed, hopefully to sleep off the pain. Kayla promised to cover her shift tonight since it was clear she wouldn't be able to work. Really she needed to find a new job. The bar wasn’t exactly a wholesome environment. When she’d first been hired, she had no idea they required the girls to dance provocatively on the bar to certain songs. She’d been tempted to walk away that night until Kayla pointed out that for each song, their tips went up two hundred percent. And she desperately needed the cash.

  Her body felt like lead weight. Amazing how a head injury messed with your entire body. When she'd taken the tumble off the bar, thanks to a spilled beer, she'd been embarrassed as hell. A trip to the ER confirmed she had a mild concussion. After orders to take a week off work, see a concussion specialist, and given pain meds, she came home and cried into her pillow. She was spent. Emotionally and physically. Her life was a royal mess. Things needed to change. Her life needed a new, positive direction. She was so sick of being this fragile woman with only small glimpses of fight. She needed to take control of her life instead of allowing circumstances and others to pull and yank her along. That was the way her life had played out since she could remember. There hadn't been a time in her life that she wasn't tossed around by others, as if she was an expendable piece of furniture. Enough was enough. And enough of feeling sorry for herself.

  A knock on the bedroom door interrupted her self-imposed sorrow.

  "Come in," she rasped.

  The door opened and the bane of her existence sauntered in. All six foot three inches of pure menacing masculinity.

  "Hey," he said softly.

  She didn't move. She couldn't. Her body severely ached.

  "I heard you took a fall," he said, shoving his hands into his jeans pocket and leaning against the chest of drawers.

  She still refused to answer. Ass.

  "I came to check on you," he said, shuffling from foot to foot.

  That sort of amused her. She would place money on that he rarely felt uncomfortable in any given situation.

  He took a couple short steps toward her.

  "How are you feeling?"

  His scent of cigarettes mixed with soap and shampoo wafted her direction. She closed her eyes and inhaled the intoxicating combo.

  When she opened her lids, he was next to her, kneeling on the floor. He gently brushed her matted hair off her face.

  "Do you need anything?"

  Tears filled her eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned over her, yet she couldn't get the image of him fucking another woman in a public hallway out of her mind.

  "I saw you." Her voice soft and shaky.

  His brows knitted together, and he tilted his head to the side.

  "Last night,” she elaborated.

  He blinked, confused. Then it clearly registered when he figured out what she was referring to. His face grew surprised, followed by a quick panic, replaced by a coolness she was positive he constantly wore. He slumped down onto the floor and ran a hand across the back of his neck.

  "I'm sorry," he said simply.

  "If you supposedly like me so much, why would you do that?"

  "M," he raised a brow, "you threw me out of your place
. We're not in a relationship. Yes, I want you, badly, but we're not a couple. If you had a guy in here last night there's absolutely nothing I could say or do about that. Though, that doesn't set well with me." He paused. "Ironic, huh?"

  Damn it, he was right.

  He reached up and ran a calloused finger down her cheek. "Tell you what, why don't we start this over again. I came on too strong and fast. I'm used to getting what I want, when I want it. I see, I take. You, I need to savor."

  Their eyes locked. He held onto her gaze, and she felt that raw pull between them. She'd experienced it that first night he gave her that scorching kiss. Like an invisible flame that burned from him and she was the moth. Unable to help herself from wanting to get close.

  There was absolutely nothing in his personality that said he was a man who attempted to woo a woman. This wasn’t a hearts and flowers man. She should appreciate his brutal honesty. But what could they possibly have in common? Obviously, he was unscrupulous beyond comprehension. That was written all over him as if he advertised it. She was entirely opposite. Could opposites truly attract or was she setting herself up to take a fall? Again.

  "I'm tired," she said softly, unable to think. The process painfully ripped through her.

  He kicked off his shoes, stood, and whipped off his belt, then crawled on the bed and slid in behind her. He pulled her body flush against his and spooned her. Burying his nose into her hair, he murmured, "Get some rest."

  For the first time in what felt like forever, her body melted into a man's warmth. She felt protected and safe. Derk’s scent wrapped around her senses, relaxed her. His muscular arm securely circling her waist made her feel tiny and dainty. Even though she didn't want to need that feeling any longer, she couldn't help to relish it. How could she possibly consider a relationship with a man like him? She couldn't. Their days would be numbered. It was only a matter of time before he’d grow bored. There was only one thing to do, if he truly planned to seduce and court her−protect her heart.