Pretty Ugly (Addicted Hearts Book 2)

by Jane Anthony

  Jerking from my grasp, she backs into the hall, the stoic look on her face smashing my heart to bits. There’s nothing. No tiny shred of evidence that she feels anything at all. A frown, a razor-edged glare of anger at least. Something to show she’s still fighting for us. “It’s just too much, Chase. I need time to process all of this.”

  She spins on her heel and storms off, her shoes clacking along the tile floor, creating a wind-tunnel echo in my ears. All I can do is watch. Every step she takes is another step toward a life without me in it, and I can’t accept that. Even if she’s given up, I never will. I’ll never stop fighting for us until the day I die. That’s what I do. I hold on to the people I love because I know that kind of connection doesn’t happen every day. I thought I had it with Desiree. I clung to her memory for years after she passed, but what I have with Kat is so much more. She doesn’t have my heart; she is my heart. And I can’t live without it.

  “I love you, Katarina! You’re still gonna be my wife when all this is over!”

  She stops at the end of the hall just outside the entrance to the lounge. Seconds pass before she turns to face me, but I don’t bother waiting. I take off after her, reaching her back before being gifted with the sight of her tear-filled eyes. “I love you, too, Chase. I always have.” Shrugging one strap of her bag off her shoulder, she reaches into the black hole she calls a purse. “I got you this,” she whispers at the end of a sniffle, then pulls out a cell phone.

  “Does this mean I can call you?” I ask, taking it from her hand. Cool chills skitter across my skin. I think back to the day I stood on Athena’s porch handing a cell phone to the beautiful girl standing in the doorway. Her sweet smile pilfered the breath from my lungs that day and every one after it. I had no way of knowing I was staring into the face of my future. Up until that point, I’d spent two years thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end. But sitting at a table on a bar patio one random Thursday, I watched it begin again.

  Now here she is, offering the same gesture of faith. It’s just a phone, but it means more than that. It’s our new beginning. Our second chance to make this right.

  “You better.” Her lips curl at the edges in a not-quite smile that still makes it hard to breathe after all this time. I step forward, hoping to take her in my arms again, but screaming bursts through the open door of the lounge. Gasps and wails, the muted thump of something clattering to the carpet. When I twist around to see the commotion, dread slams me in the chest.

  Logan.

  “I don’t belong here!” He’s on the table, tears spilling down his cheeks, a pencil pressed into the soft skin on his neck. Next to the table, an older couple stands on either side. The man in a suit, and the woman in a floral dress that hangs to her ankles. “I’m not a fucking drug addict, but you gave me no choice!” he wails, his eyes pinched, and his lips twisted into a drooling scowl. “And now he’s gone, and I’m still here, and it’s all your fault!”

  “The Lord will forgive your sins, but you need to accept your actions as sinful. His blood is on his own head, son. Leviticus 20:13.”

  “Don’t you see? He made us this way. It’s not wrong!” Pain oozes from every syllable. A low hum whispers through the crowd of onlookers. They stand there, watching this horrifying scene unfold, gaping at Logan as if he’s a sideshow. For some reason, that creepy bobblehead comes to mind. Freak Show.

  “Logan.” It’s a full second before I realize I said his name. It’s not until all the eyes in the room shift toward the doorway, until I feel the full weight of Logan’s despair crash down on my shoulders, that I find myself moving closer. “It’s okay, man.”

  “Don’t come near me, Chase!” He jams the pencil harder into his neck, the skin stretching under the sharpened point.

  I take a few small, tentative steps to feel him out. This isn’t an attempt at suicide—this is a cry for help. After two full weeks of silence, Logan is finally ready to be heard, and dammit, I’m going to listen. “Who’s gone, Logan?”

  “It was my idea. We did it together, but I woke up, and he didn’t.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I do,” I tell him, approaching the table as if a lion was perched on top of it instead of a sobbing teenager. “I lost someone I love, too. The pain you’re feeling. The all-consuming agony eating away at your will to live. I’ve felt it.” His face crumples like a newspaper, the pencil in his grip beginning to quiver. I step up on a chair and glance at the doorway. Kat’s still there, her arms crossed over her chest with glistening cheeks full of tears. She’s familiar with the sordid tales of Desiree LaMonde. She lived with the ghost of that woman holding us at arm’s length for longer than I care to admit. “What was his name?”

  “Daniel,” Logan chokes out as if the syllables burn his trachea.

  “What would Daniel say if he were here right now?”

  He presses his lips together, blinking back the tears already drenching his face with salt water. I saw him, but I never really looked. His face is smooth and soft around the edges. A sweep of sandy hair hangs across his forehead, the rest of his head shaved close to the scalp. Lanky and thin, graceful on his feet. How hard it must be to live a lie when the truth is so damn obvious. “He would say it didn’t matter what people thought. That Utah was one small state and there’s a whole world out there who doesn’t care we’re in love.”

  “Daniel sounds like a real smart guy. You two were lucky you found each other. Coming out showed strength and courage. Be proud of who you are. Daniel was.”

  “But he’s dead now. He died for me. I wanna be with him.”

  I glance at Kat again, then fix my sight back on Logan. “When Desiree died, a piece of me did, too, but in losing her, I found something better. I found sobriety, the will to be strong and carry on. I found Kat.” When I point in the direction of the door, Logan’s gaze snaps in her direction. “My wife, the mother of our kid, and the woman who gave me a reason to live.” Slowly, I extend my hand and wrap my fingers around the end of the pencil. Logan releases his grip and lets it slide through his grasp as I pull it away. “Daniel will always be with you in your heart, but that doesn't mean there isn’t room for anyone else.”

  In my peripheral vision, I see Rodney sneak through the gaping crowd. I drop the pencil and hop down off my chair. “He’s ready to talk now,” I say to Rodney on my way back over to Kat.

  Chapter 21

  Chase

  Day 35. I made it. My second stint in rehab has come to an end, and I’ll be honest, I’m feelin’ a little superior today. I’m not sure how long this euphoria will last, but I’m gonna ride this wave and let myself feel good. One day at a time. I earned it.

  With my duffle bag packed and ready, I sit in the lobby waiting for Kat to pick me up. She didn’t come back again after the last time. I understand why. Visiting me in here is just a reminder of all the shitty things I’ve done over the past few months. She doesn’t want to see me like this, and I don’t want her to see me like this either.

  Now that my addiction is somewhat under control, I have a new goal: win back the woman I love. It’s not enough for her to simply forgive me and move on. I can’t accept that. She sees me differently now. It’s as if the flame has dwindled to nothing more than a tiny spark. I want her eyes to burn with the same fierce fire they used to whenever she looked at me. If that’s ever going to happen, moving on isn’t an option. We need to start over. I need to find a way to regain her trust and bring us back to the place we were before I fucked it all up.

  I promised her epic, then delivered nothing but lies.

  The echo of footsteps steals my attention from the notebook on my lap. My gaze starts at her peep-toe sandals, the shine on her little pink toenails glimmering in the sunlight. It travels up her slender legs and over her skirt-covered thighs, then across an amazing set of tits before settling on her deep-red smirk. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her, kissed h
er, held her, but it feels like a year. She looks different. Not better, not worse, just different. Her hips are round, her breasts full. A glow radiates off her soft face. Nothing that’s noticeable to anyone else, I’m sure, but I see it.

  She slides her oversized sunglasses down her nose, her burgundy lips stretching wide. “You ready for me, Chase?”

  Today, I am brimming with energy and overflowing with joy.

  “Fuck yes!” I tell her, matching her electric smile. Truthfully, I’m terrified of life outside these walls, but with Kat beside me, I have a reason to stay on track. I only get one chance at this. My single Get Out of Jail Free card. Except this card cost ten grand.

  Standing from my seat, I open my arms as she falls between them. The heavenly scent of apples fills my nostrils with delight and my heart with hope. It’s been hell without her, without myself. For the first time since I can remember, I feel content. True sigh-of-relief-type satisfaction that only comes from being with her. Kat and I may not have it all together, but together, we have it all, and I’m not going to squander another minute with self-deprecating bullshit. Instead, I’m going to work my ass off to be the man she deserves. My life with her is much too precious.

  Happiness is a choice. I base my happiness on my own accomplishments and the blessings I’ve been given.

  She pulls back from my embrace but doesn’t let go. “Let’s get you home.”

  All the way there, my stomach tumbles with nervous anticipation. I’m a spastic ball of energy ready to take flight. Even the shitty pop hits blaring through the speakers of Kat’s Honda aren’t enough to bring me down. I miss our dogs. I miss our house. I miss our life. I can’t wait to get back to all of them. I never should have left them in the first place. This is where I belong. Not chasing the approval of a stranger. I’ve been a fool.

  The bluster of barking dogs greets me at the door before we’ve entered. Once inside, I squat, letting them trample over one another to get to me, licking my face and covering me with wispy brown hairs. “I missed you guys, too,” I say, sinking my fingers into Zeus’s fur and scooping Aphrodite up in my palm. The little things in life, the things that matter the most.

  “C’mon, guys, let Daddy in the door!” Kat tells them, pushing through the canine love fest.

  I stand to full height, slapping any dander off my thighs. “I’m so glad to be home.”

  “We’re glad to have you home.” She throws her sunglasses on the kitchen counter. They skid across the laminate surface and come to a stop near the fridge. “Ya hungry or something?” A subtle warmth settles in my stomach. She leans back, her palms pressed against the lip, her back arched just slightly. The sight of her makes my body react.

  She eyes me warily; this odd look on her face that’s hard to pick apart. “You okay?”

  “I don’t know.” Three little words falling from her lips hit my ears like a gunshot. “I didn’t think it would feel this weird.”

  “What’s weird?” I take a step, but her body locks as I approach.

  “This, I guess? I want so much to think the worst is behind us, but what if it’s not? What if you disappear again, only this time for good? I had all these fantasies about you coming home and us picking up where we left off, but now that you’re here, I can’t stop thinking about that desperate look in your eyes. It was scary, Chase. I can’t go through it again.”

  “You never have to.” I reach out and grip a piece of her hair. The silken strand slips between my fingers, then flutters back to her bare shoulder, cascading over her breast. “I’ll never put you through anything like that ever again. You have my word.” A pink hue shades the whites of her eyes. She’s cried so much; I can’t bear another tear. “You’ll just have to let me prove it to you.”

  Her head bobs in a small nod. “So what do you wanna do?” She sighs, sounding utterly defeated.

  Trick question. This is usually the time when I tear off her dress to prove my worth. The only thing I want to do right now is kiss her until her lips are sore and her body trembles with a need so profound she can’t think of anything else but having me inside her. I want to taste her skin and hear that breathy little whimper she lets out the second we come together. I just want to love it gone, but that’s not what she wants from me. Not yet. “How about . . .” Instead, I move in and scoop her into my arms, devising a new plan. “You pick a movie, and I’ll whip us up some black bean chili. We’ll lay in bed and be pigs.”

  “Make it a pizza, and you got yourself a date.”

  Playful little kitten is testing me. “Deal.”

  “I’m gonna get so fat.” Kat spikes a half-eaten pizza crust into the open box. It bounces up and plops back down into one of the two extra cheese slices left over.

  “It’s okay. I’ll still love you.”

  “Will you still love me”—she twists to grab a pillow and shoves it under her dress—“when I look like this?” Looking up into space, I pretend to give it serious thought. She gives my arm a playful swat. “You ass!”

  “Of course, I will,” I tell her, pushing her onto her back. I lean up on an elbow, one arm wrapped around her still-thin frame. Raven hair fans out around her, the flickering light from the television highlighting her black irises. “Stretch marks and all.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes. Even though you’re forcing me to watch The Devil Wears Prada.”

  A sweet giggle floats in the small space between our mouths. “I missed this,” she murmurs, her tone sobering.

  “I did, too, but there’s still one thing missing.”

  “What’s that?”

  I trace her mouth with the tip of my finger. With her bold lipstick worn away, there’s nothing between me and plain pink perfection, begging for me to claim it. “These lips . . .” I lift my hand and point at my own mouth next. “Right here.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Emotion flashes in her eyes. A swirling mix of love, lust, anger, and fear, a barrage of feelings that culminates the last months of our fucked-up relationship. I dip my head and drop my mouth to hers. When her tongue brushes my lips, I follow her lead, her soft moan filling my lungs.

  The feel of her body, the sweet taste of her mouth, and the crisp scent of her hair, it all surrounds me, undoing what little restraint I had to begin with. Pushing up on my palms, I knee her legs apart and settle between them. My cock is solid, pressed against her dampened core, but this isn’t about sex. It’s about us coming together after all this time. Feeling that connection, that brewing energy that detonates every time we’re skin to skin. As a couple, Kat and I should never have worked, and though the odds were stacked against us, that one common denominator has always held us together.

  The pizza box slides off our bed and hits the floor with a thwap. Still lost in the heat simmering between us, neither of us registers it. I leave her lips and attack her neck, her pulse flitting against my tongue. With her hands lost in my hair, I continue my trail of open-mouthed kisses over her collarbone and across the purple butterfly inked over her heart, the logo for her business, and the exact match to the art on my neck. Leave it to Kat to turn a silly mistake into something beautiful, something I now hold so fucking sacred.

  I fell in love with a broken soul.

  She fell in love with mine.

  Addicted hearts, bruised and battered and torn in half yet, when put together, make one seamless whole. It’s messy, and ugly, and sometimes grueling, but it’s ours, and that’s what makes it so perfect.

  My fingers fumble with the side zipper of her strapless dress. I pull it down and tear open the seam as if I’m unwrapping a gift. That’s what she is. A woman I never deserved, but by the grace of God was given anyway. A prize I’ll cherish till death do us part.

  I smooth my hands over her supple skin, teasing each nipple until it forms a stiff peak. It’s not until after her moans grow needy and desperate that I take one into my mouth. Her body arches, her fingers tangling in my hair.

  Kissing a dam
p path to the other nipple, I push the rest of her dress away until she’s splayed out in nothing but a tiny pair of panties. “Chase.” My name on her lips, whispered and breathless, fuels the fire burning inside me. I tear the piece of dime-store lace, my growl in line with the sound of tearing fabric as I hurl it aside.

  My lips continue moving down her body, raining kisses on her chest, her stomach, her mound. Every piece of gorgeous bronze skin beckons as I pass, but the scent of her arousal makes me ravenous the closer I get. I nip her thigh, nudging her with my nose. She whimpers, writhing her hips in anticipation.

  The second my tongue steals across her sodden core, a keening cry tears through the room. Her knees spring up, her nails tearing at my scalp. I grip her thighs and hold them wider, delving into the sweet cavern between her legs. Slow at first. I relish every whimper, every mewl, every muted sound uttered from her incredible lips.

  A string of ethnic curse words tumbles out, followed by frantic breathing as my finger finds its way inside. Her body clenches like a vise. So fucking tight. My cock pulses at the thought of plunging into that taut band of heat, but my mouth isn’t sated.

  I tease her swollen clit. Tongue it, suck it, nip it with my lips until her cries ebb out in thick, raspy sobs. “Agápi mou. Agápi mou . . .” she says over and over, making my heart soar. My love, my love.

  For everything I put her through, she still loves me. As long as we have each other, our reckless hearts can weather any storm life blows our way.

  As aftershocks wrack her body, I sit up on my haunches, enthralled by the sheer magnitude of her release as my fingers still crook deep inside her. She tugs at my shirt, trying to pull it off my back, but my hand is still tethered to her. I fall forward, my palm sinking into the mattress near her head. “Chase, please.”