Tortured Soul

by Kirsty Dallas

  “This is all Spanish influenced food, Gabbie’s specialty. I hope you like it.”

  The mention of Gabbie had me wondering what Braiden’s relationship was with the Spanish beauty. It wasn’t the first time I had questioned their relationship, but it was the first time I found myself needing to know more about it.

  Braiden was seated by my side. He poured water into my wine glass. “I have wine if you would prefer, but Larz told me you don’t like alcohol.”

  “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

  Braiden nodded then sat back and watched me. Feeling somewhat self-conscious of his gaze I turned my attention on the food and began to eat, or at least made an attempt to eat. My stomach was coiled with nervous tension.

  “Who is Gabbie to you?” I found myself blurting out. It seemed that once you were hit with the jealousy stick, you were forever hit with it.

  “We went through police academy together and were then recruited to the NYPD ESU together,” Braiden answered.

  “You were a police officer?” I said a little too loudly.

  Braiden grinned and raised a brow. “You find that difficult to believe?”

  I shook my head in the negative, but turned it into a slow nod as I changed my mind. No, I could not imagine this darkly handsome and wicked man in a police uniform.

  “Well, in the end they didn’t want someone with a family like mine working for them, regardless of how well I did my job, so I left. Gabbie stayed until her husband was in a car accident. Then she left too.”

  “Gabbie is married?” I hissed.

  Braiden laughed loudly. “Seems I am full of surprises tonight.” His laughter died down, and his face became somber. “Gabbie’s husband passed away.”

  “Oh,” I mumbled awkwardly.

  After a short silence where I chased food around my plate, I glanced back in Braiden’s direction. He was watching me intently.

  “If you have something you want to ask me, go ahead. You don’t need to fear talking to me, Em.”

  Drawing a deep breath I quickly asked, “Were you two ever together?”

  Braiden’s smirk was full of arrogance. “Does the thought displease you?” he asked.

  I shook my head no. Braiden’s gaze was so intense and demanding that I found myself unable to lie. Again my head stopped moving from side to side and became a small and hesitant nod.

  “I don’t mean for it to bother me. I’m not even sure why it does. But yes, the thought of you and her together makes me feel a little queasy.” Braiden’s smirk became a self-righteous grin and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss him or slap him.

  “We dated briefly while in the police academy, but realized we weren’t compatible. We’ve been friends ever since.” The tension seemed to seep from my body with that revelation. “And for the record, Em, although I like that you were uncomfortable with the thought of Gabbie and me together, you have nothing to be worried about where other women are concerned.”

  All playfulness and arrogance were gone from Braiden’s face; in its place was a resolute and penetrating gaze that left me breathless. I nodded, not sure how to respond and picked up my fork. I ate with more enthusiasm now that my appetite had mysteriously returned.

  “What is your mom like? I can’t imagine what sort of a woman would marry a gun dealer.” I bit my lip nervously wondering if I had suddenly developed a case of foot in mouth. Perhaps I had always been inflicted with it; I just didn’t talk enough for the problem to rear its ugly head.

  Thankfully, Braiden laughed. “My mom is gentle, kind, and selfless. She keeps my stepfather grounded and in line. She reminds me a little of Mercy actually, but maybe a little more ruthless. You would have to be to put up with Alexander Toporov. He is arrogant and brutal; I guess that comes with the territory. His kind of business doesn’t allow for weakness—he needs to be strong and sometimes cruel. My mom handles him well. Alexander loves his family, and he adores my mom.”

  “They sound interesting.”

  Braiden then proceeded to tell me about his teenage stepsisters, his love of fast cars, and his dislike of beans and corn.

  “You don’t like corn?” I asked, amazed. Who doesn’t like corn? He nodded as he sat back, his meal complete, a satisfied smile on his face.

  “What about you, what kind of music do you like?”

  So far the conversation had revolved completely around Braiden, which I was more than happy with. I talked enough about myself in therapy. Braiden had told me a lot about his family and life though, so I felt I owed him something.

  “Ummm, I guess I like most music except classical. There are bad memories associated with it.”

  Braiden nodded. “I take it you like corn?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

  “What’s not to like? It can be a vegetable or a sweet. Have you ever had chocolate coated popcorn?” I’m sure my eyes glazed over at the thought. Braiden shook his head. “Now that’s a treat. I haven’t had it since I was a kid, but once you taste it you can never go back to just ordinary popcorn.” I sighed loudly. “I love chocolate.”

  Braiden’s grin grew, and he jumped from his chair and disappeared into the kitchen behind us. He was back moments later with a bowl full of chocolates. He placed them down before me and signaled for me to help myself. Trying to look inconspicuous, I wiped my chin to make sure I wasn’t drooling, then proceeded to devour half the bowl of deliciousness. Once I was full and bordered on a chocolate overdose, I leaned back in my chair. Braiden was just watching me curiously as he had done most of the meal. The light flickering from the many candles surrounding us only served to highlight his perfection. He was so dangerously handsome—his features were perfectly carved, his dark eyes daring and seductive. His bottom lip was a little fuller than his top lip, and when one side of his mouth quirked into a smirking grin, I felt myself melt into a puddle.

  “Why me?” I found myself asking. A defective female like me shouldn’t be garnering the attention of someone as perfect as Braiden. Was this a pity date? I looked to him for an explanation.

  He ran a hand through his mess of dark hair. “Many reasons. You’re beautiful, you’re strong, you’re smart, and we have something in common.” When he looked at me this time, the confident mask that Braiden constantly wore was gone. In its place was a man who seemed nervous and unsure of himself. “We’ve both seen and done things we are not proud of. You were forced physically, and me, I did what I had to do in an effort to gain my stepfather’s love and respect.”

  “What did you do?” I whispered.

  Braiden sighed and looked away, seeming to gather the strength to confess his sins. “Growing up with a man like Alexander as your father was difficult to say the least. He brought me up the only way he knew how, with ruthless discipline. While children my age were building with Legos and playing little league, I was learning gun safety and how to pick locks. I was molded into the perfect soldier for the Toporov Empire. I killed for him, Em. There is so much blood on my hands. There are some days I look at them and wonder why they aren’t dripping red. I like to think the men I killed were all bad in one way or another, but I honestly have no idea. Alexander told me to shoot, and I did. The last job I did for him was meant to be a quiet kill. The target was a man who had tried to blackmail my family, and if there is one thing you never do to a Toporov, it’s threaten his family. The target was supposed to be alone in his home, his family were believed to be on vacation. I broke in, made my way to his bedroom, screwed the silencer on my Glock, and put a bullet in his brain. Quiet, clean, the weapon was untraceable and the target was known for his criminal associations, so the authorities wouldn’t be too concerned with one less asshole on the streets. When I turned to leave, there was a little girl standing in the doorway to the room. She had watched the whole thing.” Braiden went quiet. His teeth worried at his bottom lip, and his head tilted in thought. “He was supposed to be found by the maid the next morning, the wife and children weren’t meant to see anything. That litt
le girl will never be the same, Em. She watched some stranger put a bullet in her daddy’s head, and that will stay with her forever. That was when I realized what I was doing, that the life I was living destroyed people, innocent people. I wanted out. Within a week I had given up my position as Alexander’s head of security, and I was officially exiled from the family. I haven’t seen my mom or stepsisters since.”

  Braiden’s admission shocked me. Even though there was a definite coldness behind Braiden’s dark eyes, there was also a wealth of protectiveness for those less fortunate. It was difficult to imagine him as a cold-blooded, ruthless killer.

  “So, we are both broken, Em, in our own way. I wanted to sit back and give you room, space. I wanted to let you heal, rediscover your own wants and needs. But then I realized something. You’re lost, just like me, and maybe we need each other to be whole again. If I can give you that,” his gaze found mine, “it would complete me.”

  I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. What could I really say?

  “If I have overstepped my boundaries, I completely understand. You don’t even have to say anything. In fact, your silence would be an admission to your discomfort, and I will take you straight home—”

  “You gave me up. You told me you were no good for me, that I was no good for you,” I demanded in a low voice. The surprise on Braiden’s features was almost laughable. “I needed you then,” I continued. Braiden went to speak, but I raised my hand up, stopping him. “I understand why you went, but I need you to understand how much I needed you at that moment. Nobody understood the lifestyle I lived, but you did. It was mortifying to have them see me like that. You were the only one I trusted at that time, and you destroyed that by walking out on me. And you never came back. I don’t know how many nights I lay in that facility, wondering what I did wrong and if you would come back for me. You never even came to check on me.”

  “I spoke to Larz every day, Em.”

  “I know, but it’s not the same. You should have been there with me.” The helpless tears that spilled at the memory of those first few months pissed me off. I furiously swiped them away. Braiden moved my hands aside and gently cupped my cheeks, wiping the tears with tender strokes.

  “At the time, I was no good for you and you were no good for me. I wanted you so badly, Em, in a way that was completely unhealthy for you. If I had stayed, I would have touched you, and it would have been wrong. I didn’t have the willpower to stay away and you needed to heal.”

  “I can’t give you what other women can,” I said on a sob.

  “I don’t want what other woman can give me, Em. I want you, just as you are. Scars, tears, anger, nightmares, fears, I want it all. I need you, Em, and I think you need me, too. I don’t know if now is the right time or not, but I’ll be damned if I can stay away.” His words tumbled into my heart, warming it, giving it hope. “You are in control here, Em, where we go from here, how fast or how slow. You set the pace, and you can stop it any time you want.”

  My fingers, which were clenched in my lap, relaxed, and I raised my hand to touch his lips. I traced the lines of his face and Braiden never moved. I slipped my hand behind his neck and pulled him closer, pressing my own lips to his. This was the first kiss I had ever initiated. It might has well have been my first kiss ever because my heart spilled over with the power of emotion it delivered. Braiden’s lips were tentative and careful at first, but quickly became hungry and possessive, much like the night he had kissed me when we returned to Claymont. Without much thought past, I need more, I climbed onto his lap and straddled him, kissing him, tasting him. Braiden’s hands settled at my waist, his grip firm but not painful. When the need for air grew stronger than my desire, I pulled back a little. We were both breathing heavily and Braiden’s eyes searched mine.

  “I could spend the rest of my life kissing you, Em.”

  I kissed him again. All the need, frustration and emotion that had pooled inside my body poured out into one kiss.

  It was Braiden who pulled away this time. “Em?” I could feel the tension in his arms as he worked to keep himself in check. I wanted to take things further, but at the same time my heart pounded with fear. That’s how I knew I wasn’t ready. The kind of intimacy that I yearned for shouldn’t be met with fear. That’s how every sexual encounter I had ever had started and ended.

  “Slow is okay for me, Em, just this is okay for me.”

  I moved slightly on his lap, the rigid evidence of his need for me pressed at my core.

  Braiden’s eyes closed for a moment, then reopened as his lips formed a sly grin. “If you keep that up I might need a cold shower though.” A small smile tugged the corners of my mouth and Braiden’s face turned to shock, and then something akin to awe. “I knew your smile would be perfect,” he whispered.

  A loud thump at the front door had me springing from Braiden’s lap as the door burst open. Dillon was scowling, and Bomber shrugged from the doorway behind him before pulling the door closed. I hadn’t even realized Bomber was outside. Dillon’s usual calm demeanor was nowhere in sight. When he saw us and the table set up with candles and food, he stopped short.

  “Shit. Sorry, man, I totally forgot,” he said sheepishly.

  “Everything okay?” Braiden asked, standing beside me, his hands shoved casually in his pockets.

  “Peachy,” Dillon mumbled moving to the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to tell that peachy meant hell no. I looked around the room awkwardly, not sure whether to stand, sit or leave. Braiden made the choice for me by guiding me down the long hall to his room and pushing the door open.

  “Sorry, Em, just give me a sec to see what’s up his ass then we can watch a movie, or if you want to go home, I’ll take you home.” I nodded as I walked into Braiden’s room, taking in the clean and orderly space. “Remote for the TV is on the night stand, and there are a few books over there.” He nodded to a small bookshelf. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

  He disappeared down the hall as I wandered around the room. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. The furniture was bold and dark. The bedspread was white with black and white pillows. It looked comfortable yet masculine. The bookshelf held titles that I had never heard of; they were mostly history and travel books. I admired the picture above his bed for a while before I realized the scene looked familiar. I smiled a little when I realized it was the place Braiden had taken me the week before to take photos. The door quietly closing behind me caught my attention. Braiden had a tired look on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. I immediately thought they had news on Jonas.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, not really wanting to know the answer, but at the same time needing to know.

  Braiden nodded. “Dillon finally gathered the courage to ask Annie out on a date, and she said no.”

  I opened my mouth to say something and promptly shut it again. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting to hear, and frankly, I wasn’t sure how to respond. Social etiquette and gossip wasn’t something I was familiar with.

  Braiden shrugged as he reached for a book on the shelf. “They’ll sort it out. Annie has battled her own demons. It’s been a couple of years, but maybe she just isn’t ready to date yet. People live their lives and cope with their fears differently.”

  Braiden sat on the bed and opened a photo album. He patted the bed beside him. “I want to show you something.”

  I sat down and looked at the pages as he began flicking through them. Most of the photos were of children in tattered and worn clothing, possibly African. There were several pictures of Braiden standing among the children, and he stopped when he came to a picture of what appeared to be a family, standing outside a primitive looking hut.

  “Mosi’s family sold him as a slave to a wealthy family; they couldn’t afford to clothe or feed him. He was only seven when he was sold. I purchased him back, and with the help of a local mission, I set up an account for the family which will be more than enough to clothe, feed and
school Mosi until he is an adult. The mission helps the family manage the money so that it will last. I go back at least once a year to check on them.” He flipped to another page where he held a little Asian girl, no older than five, on his hip. “Sinuon’s family were Cambodian refugees. Her mother died of malaria, and her father could not care for her, so she was left on the doorstep of an orphanage. The day I arrived in Phnom Penh, the orphanage had no room to house Sinuon, and they were looking for a safe place for her. I was able to locate an aunt and uncle in a village seven miles away. They had three of their own children, but didn’t have the funds to take on Sinuon, so I set up a trust for her that allowed her aunt and uncle to carry the financial burden of housing her. I also try to check in on her once a year.” There were many more photos of Braiden with children, and I shook my head in disbelief. “I’m not showing you this to brag, Em, I’m showing you because there are hundreds of thousands of children in this world who have no family. They are desperate for love, for a break. You might not be able to experience the gift of carrying your own child in your womb, but you have the ability to carry a child in your heart and change his or her life for the better.” Braiden gently closed the album and placed it back on the bookshelf. “When you told Rebecca you were unable to have children, I saw the pain in your eyes. I just wanted you to know that there are other ways to have a family.” I was so close to tears I didn’t speak, I simply nodded in understanding. “Do you want me to take you home?” he asked.

  I shook my head without hesitation. “I don’t want to go yet,” I whispered, my throat tight with emotion.

  Braiden climbed onto the bed and pulled me back with him until we were comfortably propped up on the pillows. He pulled a blanket over us then flicked on the TV. Without a word, I settled into the crook of his arm and nervously rested my hand on his chest. Braiden took my hand and wrapped it tighter around him. His warmth bled into my cold skin, and it made me feel lazy and contented in no time. He smelled so masculine and fresh, I wanted to bury my face into his neck and breathe him in. I had never lain with a man like this. Not once. Not even Jonas allowed this sort of intimacy. When his hand began running through my hair, I was instantly lulled into calmness. With a deep sigh, my eyes fell shut, for the first time ever I fell asleep wrapped in peace.