by A. M. Kusi
And he’d start with winning back the woman he loved.
Chapter 38
Belle
Turning down her street, Belle glanced out the window as “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” played on the radio. Big snowflakes fell from the dark sky, reflecting in her high beams. The holiday lights of her neighbors lit the street like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Decorated Christmas trees sparkled from windows. Red and silver candy canes reflected off streetlamps. This was supposed to be the most cheerful time of year, yet she was anything but. She pressed her hand to her chest to stifle the twinge of longing. The back of her eyes burned as she swallowed the emotion down.
“TJ is safe and healthy. I have a great job. TJ graduated with honors.”
Three things she was thankful for. Gratitude was her buoy when she was drowning in pain. She’d had a lifetime of hurt, but this time was different. For the first time in her life, she’d experienced true heartbreak.
Figures. The one time I actually open up enough to love someone, my heart chooses the most unavailable man on the planet.
Seeing him in the school’s auditorium a few days ago during TJ’s graduation had brought her relief and devastation. He’d come through for TJ after all. She’d taken the coward’s way out, shuffling towards the exit with the crowd and texting TJ to meet her in the car once he was done saying goodbye.
All she wanted was someone to be there when she needed them. A port in the storm. Someone to help shoulder the burden, who would understand that she was not her past. She’d thought Bently was that man. But maybe she was better off alone. It was better to be lonely than feel like this again.
She switched her blinker on and pulled into her drive. Her headlights illuminated a hunched-over figure on her porch. She sucked in a breath. Bently.
He looked up as he stood, causing her belly to flicker and tip. Fluffy white snowflakes stuck to his head and shoulders as he waited. Her core ached. The man was as sexy as ever. His black hair was a disheveled mess, sticking out over his forehead like he’d been running his hands through it. His beard had been trimmed since she’d last seen him. Why did he have to look so good?
Why is he here? What does he want? Maybe it has to do with TJ.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the dangerous yearning within her. Belle grabbed her bag and opened the door. The blast of chilly wind blew against her skin, sending a shiver through her. The crisp clean air changed the closer she walked to him, growing heavy with anticipation—with unspoken pain and dashed hope, with broken trust and warning.
She stopped a few feet in front of him. The porch light behind him edged him in shadows, much like the man she’d come to know. Maybe that was part of his allure. Maybe she’d been drawn to him because of the pain she’d recognized in him—a kindred spirit. How many women fell for the same fallacy? The hope that they could save the boy from the darkness, but instead it consumed them both? Like it did my mother.
“Hey.” Bently’s voice cracked.
At least she wasn’t the only one knocked off her axis.
“Why are you here?” The tension wound thick between them, coiling tight. She stuffed down the need that burned inside her to be in his arms.
Bently licked his lips and shifted on his feet. “I, uh. I was hoping you’d be willing to talk to me. I have some things I want to say. I didn’t want to involve TJ, so I waited out here. I hope that’s okay.”
“Did you come to talk about TJ?” She crossed her arms in front of her, a poor attempt at protecting herself from the devastating allure of this man. Her jaded heart pounded in her chest. Just being this close to him was too much.
“About us.” Pain and uncertainty flashed in his stormy blue eyes.
Belle’s resolve wavered. Her first instinct was to go to him, to comfort him, but she fought the urge. Clenching her hands into fists, she snapped, “I thought there was no us. It was just sex. That’s what you said, right?”
He winced and glanced at the floor. “I lied.”
“Yeah, I’d say. Everything was a lie. The only truth was that sentence. And I should have known it was all too good to be true.” She pushed past him, pulling her keys out to open her door.
“Angel, please—”
She spun around, anger blazing. “Don’t fucking call me that!”
His jaw ticced as he blinked rapidly. He searched the air around them as if the magic answer to this mess between them was there.
“Leave me alone. Don’t ever contact me again. Get off my property and don’t come back.” Her voice shook as she turned away, blocking him out. Belle inserted the key.
“I was terrified. You scared the shit out of me, making me feel things I never knew I was capable of. I thought—I thought I was broken, unable to love someone.”
Bently’s confession ripped the air from her lungs. She turned the knob. Her mind was reeling, hope and rejection warring inside Belle’s battered heart.
“I thought if I ever did love someone, the way I love you, I’d end up hurting them. I’d end up failing them like I failed my family.” Bently’s voice shook and wavered.
The air vibrated, the ground beneath her seemingly quaking from his confession. This was what she’d wanted all along. She’d just needed him to be vulnerable with her. Should she listen, or should she walk away? Was it too late?
She pushed open the door and stepped inside, dropping her bag on the floor before she turned to face him.
His eyes glimmered with unshed tears. Pain was etched across his beautiful face. Shadows of doubt and fear highlighted his chiseled jaw. Those clouded spheres reflected the scared little boy locked deep inside him. He was breaking her heart all over again. But was this how her mother had felt as she’d let her boyfriends come back in her life time and time again after they’d beaten her? Was she weak for hearing him out? Was it the same thing? Am I like her?
The small flame of hope in his gaze dimmed until nothing was left. He dropped his head, shoulders slumped. “I just want you to know that being with you meant everything to me. It was the only time I’d ever truly been me. You’re so amazing, and everything that happened was all my fault. It had nothing to do with you. You’re perfect the way you are.” His gaze met hers, honesty glowing back.
He continued. “I’ll leave you alone. But there’s something else you need to know. Whoever was following me took a picture of us together. They know you’re important to me. I don’t know if they’ll try to come after you, but I’ve had everyone at the station taking turns patrolling by a few times a day.”
What? This psycho had pictures of them? She was in danger?
“When did you see the picture?”
He looked down. “Same day as the blood message.”
All the pieces started to click into place. Why he’d been so upset and pushed her away. His overwhelming desire to protect her. She shook her head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
His gaze flicked back to hers. “I—I thought I could handle it. I’m sorry.”
She took a deep breath. Everything inside her spun and tipped, tumbled and plunged. “You made the decision for me. You never stopped to consider that I could be trusted. For weeks some psycho could have been watching and waiting outside my house where I live alone with TJ. I’m a shift worker! What if he tried to attack my brother when I wasn’t home? What if he came in when I was alone?” She shook her head and clenched her fists before she could do something she’d regret—like slap him.
He blinked, a tear slipping down both sides of his cheeks. “I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. It was because I couldn’t trust me. I failed to protect you the moment that guy got you in his sights. I put you in danger just by being near you. You were not alone though. I had officers driving by a few times a day, and I . . . stayed close, but out of sight.�
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“Get in here.” She opened the door wider.
He hesitated only a moment before he walked in, his scent invading her space, oak and sin twisting her up. She shut the door and took off her coat, then hung it on the hook.
TJ came down the stairs and halted, looking between her and Bently. “I see you got her to listen.” He smiled.
Belle looked to Bently accusingly.
Bently hung up his coat and explained. “I ran into TJ yesterday and wanted to apologize about everything. Needed him to know I never used him to get to you.”
Belle cut a hard look towards her brother.
“I’m just gonna, uh, go back to my room,” TJ said, disappearing up the stairs.
Belle walked into the kitchen shaking her head. Memories of Bently kissing her trampled over her wounded heart. She pulled out a chair at the table and sat. The muscles in her body ached. Every part of her felt tired and sore. Her nerves frayed as a million questions swirled in her mind like a tornado.
“Can I make you some tea, or coffee?” Bently asked quietly as he approached.
“I’d rather you explain what you meant. You’re a police officer. I understand your job is dangerous. I also understand the risks of being with a cop.” Of loving one. Whatever his fears were, this went deeper. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I had a right to know.”
He took the seat next to her and faced her. “I’ve never told anyone this before.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath as if mustering the courage. “My earliest memories as a child were of my father beating my mother. Once I got a little older, I mean like three or four, I’d try to make him stop. I’d yell or go at him.”
Belle’s gaze never wavered as she listened to a story not unfamiliar to her own. Her heart broke for the boy Bently had been as he recounted the trauma.
“I was never strong enough. I begged my mother to leave him. But she said to me, ‘Bently, you don’t understand. I love him. I can never leave him. Even if I did, there’s no way I could take care of you kids alone.’” He shook his head. “I never wanted anything to do with love after that. Not if it could hold someone captive, against all better judgement. She chose him over us. The woman who was supposed to love us and care for us.”
His parents had picked everything else over him. Destruction and chaos over love and peace. The picture of Bently Evans was becoming clearer. Belle reached out and put her hand over his.
He looked up at her, pain and conflict evident in his expression. He wrapped his warm hand around hers as he continued. “I told her I could get a job and support them, but she said I was just a child. I wasn’t strong enough when they needed me. She . . . she took her own life when I was sixteen. Jasmine found her.”
Belle sat forward, her need to support him pulling her closer to him like a magnet. No words of comfort would erase the pain of losing a parent, much less one who left by choice. The only thing she could do was sit with him in this heartache while he released what he’d held inside all his life.
“A year later, Jasmine came running into the mechanic shop where I worked—Link’s place. It’s off Main Street. Anyways, I’d never seen her more scared in my life. I dropped what I was doing and told her to go to Dre and Remy’s and raced home.” He closed his eyes and wiped a stray tear from his eye that hadn’t yet fallen.
“I thought Mikel was dead.” Bently choked out. His expression was grim. “There was blood everywhere. His face was so swollen, I barely recognized him. My father had almost killed him. I knew in that moment that I needed to end the bastard myself before he could hurt them any further. I thought that was my only way. We’d had CPS involved before but that meant separation and group homes. Jasmine wouldn’t be safe without me. Last time we’d spent time as wards of the state, she’d been hurt by the family that took her in. I couldn’t chance it.”
Bently shook his head. “We stayed in some abandoned factory while he healed. Jasmine remained at Dre’s parents’ house. I asked Mikel what set Dad off. He’d always hated Jasmine more—if that was possible. Because our mother had an affair with another man. My sister was the product of that. The look in Mikel’s eyes when he told me what our father had done to Jasmine . . .” Bently’s voice cracked as his expression crumpled in utter devastation.
Belle sucked in a sharp breath. She knew better than to ask for details. She knew firsthand what that look meant.
He cleared his throat, his eyes snapping to hers. “I waited for Mikel to heal and plotted the million different ways I’d do it.” He searched her face.
He wasn’t looking to her to absolve him—she knew firsthand how trauma changed your brain, how it made you consider things you wished you never had to in order to survive. She understood too well the deepest darkest depths of the wickedness of humanity. Sometimes there was no good choice. Sometimes it was kill or be killed.
“I’m still here,” she said, placing her hand over his, assuring him she wouldn’t be scared away by his darkness, that they were alike in more ways than he could ever imagine.
Maybe they were both broken. But just maybe their shattered pieces could come together and make something whole.
Chapter 39
Belle
“I went there to do it,” Bently said.
Belle held her breath. Was she ready to find out if he had in fact murdered his father? Would she be able to look at him the same?
Yes.
She nodded, urging him to continue.
“But I was too late. It was already done.” Bently’s brows drew together and his shoulders sank.
“And you feel guilty that it wasn’t you?”
His eyes snapped to hers. “How did you know?”
“I’d feel the same way in your position, but only for one reason,” she said, her mind racing and her heart pounding. That wasn’t just guilt over wanting to murder his own flesh and blood glinting in his eyes. It was failure.
“What reason?”
“If someone I loved, someone I was supposed to protect, did it instead.” She searched his eyes for the answer.
His gaze flashed as he sat straighter. His head bowed forward as if his body was subconsciously nodding in confirmation. “Do you think I’m a monster?”
She shook her head. “Not even close.”
“I failed them. I was all they had to protect them and I fucked it up. The very woman who was supposed to have unconditional love for us left us to a wolf. That monster happened to be my father.”
“I’m really sorry that you had to go through that. It isn’t fair. It isn’t okay. And it’s absolutely terrible that you were put in that position.” She said the words she had once longed to hear. She was able to empathize and validate his feelings.
He swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.”
“Do you feel better? After sharing this with me?” Belle asked.
Bently blinked and took a deep breath. “I feel . . . exhausted.”
“Understandably.” She glanced at the clock. The hand ticked toward eleven. “Talking about past trauma is emotionally draining.”
“I just wanted . . . I hoped that by telling you this, you’d understand that when I realized you were in danger, I freaked out. I thought . . . I couldn’t let you get hurt too because of me.” His thumb grazed over her wrist, soothing her with his gentle touch.
“I want to forgive you, Bently. But I told you that if you let me walk out, that I couldn’t keep going back and forth like this.” She pulled her hand to her lap and cleared her throat. As much as her heart broke for this man, as much as her body craved his touch, she needed to stand up for herself. She had her own demons in her past, and becoming like her mother, giving in to a man while having to sacrifice parts of herself was not going to happen.
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” He sounded utterly broken.
She straightened her shoulders and lifted he
r chin, tears welling in her eyes. “I need someone who will be with me when life gets hard as well as the good times. Someone who will sit in the pain with me and be my rock when I fall apart. Who understands why it’s hard for me to get out of bed some days. Who won’t make decisions for me. Someone to be my partner in all things. I need a man who can love me, and let me love him in return.” Fat droplets splashed over her cheeks. Tears of hope and regret. Of choosing the right thing for herself regardless of how much it hurt.
I’m not like her. I’m stronger.
Bently pushed off his seat and her heart froze. This is when he walks out the door for good.
Instead of standing, he knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his as he stared into her eyes. Emotion fell in teardrops from his own pained gaze. “If you give me the chance I don’t deserve, if you let me try one more time, I promise I’ll do everything in my power to be that man. I promise that rather than turning away, I’ll face my fears. Instead of pushing you in the opposite direction, I’ll hold on to you.”
Her hands trembled in his as his beautiful promises grated from his lips, like he was digging to the depths of his soul to find the courage to voice them.
“I love you, Angel. You’re the one good, pure thing in my life that’s just for me. Let me spend the rest of my life making things up to you. Let me love you and show you that love every single day. I’m in this, with my whole heart. It’s all yours—you’ve had it since that first day you stole my breath away. You consume my thoughts, and take up all the space I never knew I had in here.” He tapped on his hard chest. “If you need me to love you from afar, as much as it will kill me to do that, I will. Whatever you need, it’s yours,” Bently finished, looking in her eyes.
Belle choked on a sob. Could this be real? Could she give him another chance? Could she really have her happily-ever-after?
He’s safe.
He waited, vulnerable and patient, gazing at her as if he cherished and adored her.