I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances

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I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances Page 32

by Sophie Brooks


  This was just so hard to verbalize. I felt such shame, all of a sudden. It hit me like a hammer. Had I been a younger girl I would have cried, but since I was a tough broad I only took my plate and threw it with all my force against the wall. It fell onto the kitchen tile floor and shattered with a satisfying, explosive crack. The gnawed bones left a slick of chicken fat on the wall.

  Vicki sucked in some air.

  “It’s different for you, I guess. You’re taller and stronger and if you were my size… maybe you’d be tempted to just go along with it, y’know? Just go along with it. At least you get to keep your pride.”

  She thought for a while, her eyes flat and unyielding. Then she nodded. “Did he apologize?” she asked.

  I stood and picked up her plate and hurled it, sending it after the first one. It broke in half and slid partway, stuck to the wall by the remaining food; then it detached from the wall like a clumsy stinkbug and fell to the hard floor, shattering into sharp, jagged fragments.

  I relished the sound.

  “Yeah…” I sighed in a barely audible voice. “The next day. I did accept his apology – but I still feel angry about it, you know? Being manhandled like that, and his advances, the time and place, intruding on my buddy time like that – I… I just felt so helpless to prevent it or stop it – that’s probably the most humiliating thing of all.”

  Vicki put the remaining food inside the refrigerator, safe out of my reach. I finished cleaning up the mess I’d made. The process of restoring order helped me straighten out my thoughts. As I stood up, I looked at Vicki Gomez, noting the length of her strong, sculpted arms and her height, wondering how she would have fared in my situation.

  “I just… the control factor. It’s just too much. Had he tried to do it in the shower just for kink, like with the shaving, it would have been different.”

  “Shaving?” Vicki’s eyebrows rose.

  “Ask me later, but it was good. This time, though… he was just so, so, so –“

  “He was angry.” Vicki stated a fact as though she’d been there.

  “Yeah! Furious! I’ve never seen him like that before.”

  “I have,” Vicki sighed. “Rinaldi-asshole has a bit of an anger problem at times. He doesn’t lose his cool much anymore, but being around him when he’s like that definitely requires special fortitude. No secretary lasted past the two months mark. I was the exception because I worked for him while he was taking a lot of personal leave. I’m told he used to be a lot worse, but that’s not saying much.”

  I drank my milk, eyes empty, mind devoid of thought. The whole affair was bloody depressing. My perfect partner had a Persian flaw the size of Baghdad.

  “So what’s all this stuff you need help with, Evelyn?” Vicki changed the subject.

  I surveyed the scene. Over half of the emergency cash from my secret hiding hole in the closet wall was gone, invested into new bedroom furniture.

  “I’m remodeling, and my back hurts too damn much to be toughing it out and assembling and moving all this stuff by myself. Plus, there’s the benefit of your scintillating company.”

  Ignoring my sarcasm, she walked over and inspected some of the pieces. “Looks like you’re finally treating yourself to the good stuff.”

  “Yeah. I decided I’m worth it.”

  A place of my own.

  “Y’know, Vicki, I’ve come to realize I’m probably destined to be by myself in this lifetime,” I commented, fingering the blue, black, and gray area rug rolled up by the wall, its ends poking out of its plastic wrap.

  “How do you figure, Eve?”

  “Well… people leave me. Sometimes, they drive me away. Mom died, dad kicked me out when he found out about me and Nick, Nick and Claire started a family…” I sighed. A feeling of loss suffused me.

  Not regret, never that.

  Just, a small piece of my heart was empty, feeling their absence every so often.

  “I’ve done well, not attaching myself. Then Raf shows up. He looks perfect, but… I just don’t know. He has that bad-boy aura, and that’s very sexy, but only in moderation.”

  There was that feeling again – the feeling of impending chaos and destruction.

  My crazy father used to trigger it with his random, unpredictable behavior that occasionally transgressed into the physical. He thought being hyper-critical of my every move on a regular basis was a way of showing he cared.

  “You still have your sister and your brother.”

  “I can’t burden them. They need to grow up, be free. I should be taking care of them, not the other way around.”

  “You have friends.”

  I flashed her a small grin. “Yeah. Amen, sister. My friends make my world go ‘round.”

  AT FIVE, we hopped into Vicki’s car and ran out to a local big-box store that had just about everything. I bought new, turquoise and gray bedding and comforter, and new pillows and towels to match. It all went really well with the white walls and the blue, gray and black rug by the side of my new queen-size bed. There was a large, new mirror on the wall, the pristine, white curtains and blue and black valance reflecting in it, looking about as personal as an airport hotel.

  Just as we were to check out and pay, my eyes fell upon the wall behind the registers. It was covered with affordable, ready-to-hang art.

  “And I’ll have that one,” I said, not thinking twice.

  I didn’t know what possessed me to buy that huge, acrylic painting. There was something thrilling about the flame-colored sunset against the powdery blue sky, its stunning display of flamboyant color reflecting in the glass wall of the skyscrapers. The building looked tall and hopeful despite their gray concrete. Colored light reflected in their huge windows; clouds floated by, their distorted images like watercolors seeping into old paper.

  “That’s a little tall, Evelyn. It will never fit above your bureau.”

  “It will. I’m hanging it sideways.”

  WE RINSED off quickly, taking turns and changing into the nicer clothing we’d brought with us. I slipped into my tights, an aqua knit dress that had never failed me, black tights, a bit of makeup and I was done. Well actually, I spent a lot more time on the makeup than I had on getting dressed. Putting on my mineral powder, smudging on a modest amount of eye shadow, and applying mascara felt a lot like putting on war paint before the tribe encountered the white invaders. Only my hair was the same as ever; I let it drape down my shoulder in a slither of a braid.

  I saw Vicki in her black jeans, a green silk blouse, and a black and red leather jacket.

  “The jacket? Really?” I smiled, remembering the time she had found it in a thrift store many years ago. It had been love at first sight.

  “It has pockets, so I don’t have to carry a purse. It’s getting colder, too.”

  She was right – the weather broke and leaves were beginning to turn. My jacket was at Rafael’s, but I had this one old thing from years ago. After some rummaging, I found an old coat from a vintage store. It was fitted from waist up, its stand-up collar offsetting my jawline and cheekbones. From waist down, the coat draped down my legs in a graceful swirl, reaching well below my knee. I never buttoned it all the way down so it didn’t look like a dress. Its dove grey lining peeked as I moved before the mirror.

  “You still have this old thing?” Vicki asked, amazed. “I haven’t seen it in years. What a rag.”

  “You’re just jealous,” I grinned. “Ready?”

  The River Run Café was only a few subway stops away. We sauntered up in companionable silence, fashionably late, only to see Honore Auguste Wilson the 3rd and Rafael Rinaldi standing outside the establishment, immersed in quiet conversation.

  “They’re talking. You think Raf told him anything?”

  Vicki flashed me a surprised look. “Why would he? It’s not something to boast about.”

  I gave a relieved sigh. “I guess.”

  Honore looked odd without his suit and tie, although the white leather jacket fit him fine, formi
ng a canvas to showcase the midnight waterfall of his hair. Raf was dressed up in a beige suit that offset his chestnut hair to an advantage, and his tie picked up the blue of his eyes. He was dressed up as though this was a date and it mattered.

  He looked me up and down, his gaze hungry.

  “Evelyn.”

  “Hello, Rafael.” I turned to Wilson and offered my hand. “Good to see you, Honore.”

  His grey eyes warmed imperceptibly as he nodded. “And it’s good to see you, Evelyn. Shall we?”

  Vicki only nodded in Rinaldi’s direction, receiving a similar curt nod in return. Vicki and Honore walked between us, their fingertips brushing. They made a good buffer between Rafael and I.

  WE HAD some wine with dinner; the food was very good as always. We discussed politics and the business climate, then decided to skip dessert. I was dying for some chocolate cake, but Honore declared he was paying, and I knew he wasn’t a dessert eater so I didn’t order any.

  So far, so good. No disasters, no horrid clashes of opinion, no spoiled dishes that had to be sent back. I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. The marble floors swirled with designs belying their metamorphic origin. The stalls were made of reclaimed dolomite and I took a bit longer than usual, seeing how many different fossils I could find on my door. Realizing I’d gotten a bit stuck, I finished up and rushed outside. Honore sat at the table alone.

  I sat down and looked around. “Where are they?”

  Honore Wilson trained his gaze at me. “They are outside.”

  “But they don’t smoke!”

  “They need to talk.” His eyes softened as he looked me over. “Are you feeling well, Evelyn?”

  The question surprised me. Never, in my two years of employment at his company, had he asked me such a direct and personal question.

  “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t say anything for a while. Then he averted his eyes in that ‘this discussion is over’ way of his. But it wasn’t.

  “Raf used to have a frightful temper when he was much younger. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head, not liking where this might lead.

  “If there is anything you’d ever like to discuss, even matters of… personal… nature, please do not hesitate to talk to me. If you have the need, that is.”

  My eyes widened in shock and heat rose up to my cheeks.

  “Th… thank you… Honore.” I still felt ill at ease using his given name, but his offer was nothing short of astounding. Sipping my coffee, I tried to disguise my surprise.

  “Ah, here they come. The bill is settled, we may leave anytime.” I looked at Vicki’s date. Whatever warmth there had been in his face had evaporated, leaving him with his customary mask of feigned calm and indifference that I’ve come to associate with old money.

  Vicki sat next to Honore and reached for her tea. “It sure has gotten colder out there,” she let out, warming her hands on the large cup. She smiled, but her smile didn’t quite make it all the way up to her eyes. I shot her a questioning look, but she shrugged.

  “Rafael,” Vicki said, “I’ll be leaving with Honore. It’s been so good to clear the air. I’m sure you and I could easily work together now, as things stand.”

  Raf nodded his head, clearing his throat. “Yeah.” His voice was occluded and not very strong. He turned to me.

  “I drove to get here. You…would you care for a ride?”

  My eyes flashed a quick look at his sapphire blue irises; they gave away nothing.

  “My place isn’t far from here,” I mumbled, not eager to be left alone with him. We would probably have to talk then, and it would lead to unpleasantness.

  “What a great opportunity for Raf to see our hard work today.” Vicki said in a chipper voice and I felt something kick my shin. I looked at the redhead’s face, her hair flowing loose the way she thought Honore liked it, and I knew it had been her.

  Something was afoot.

  “Sure,” I said, turning to Raf again, unease seeping to the very core of my being. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

  “It would be my pleasure.” His tone was formal and polite. I hardly knew what to make of it.

  THE DRIVE over was quiet. Once we got to my block, he parked near the door and offered to walk me up.

  “Hey, come in.” There was no use hesitating as I opened the door. He’d find out sooner or later.

  “What’s all the cardboard?” He asked, surveying my wreck of a living room.

  “Those are the boxes the furniture that came in. Here, come see!” Plastering an excited grin onto my face, I led him to my new bedroom. The frameless painting did, indeed, bring life to my private space. My grandfather’s old Japanese sword hung on the wall below it, adding just a touch of exotic flair.

  I walked in, inviting him to my inner sanctum. His eyes took it all in, everything new, shiny, clean.

  “You don’t like living with me.” His voice was flat and hollow.

  “I’ve come to realize I really appreciate having my own space,” I said evenly, my eyes on the horizontal planes of the sideways city landscape.

  “Eve…”

  I turned my eyes to him.

  “Evelyn, I am so sorry. I haven’t realized… I didn’t hear you say anything specific at the time.”

  We both knew what he was talking about.

  “Now I do. Vicki said… Eve… ” he crossed over to me, grasping my shoulders in his large hands – but his motion halted as he felt me flinch.

  I didn’t mean to flinch, but the bruises were still tender.

  He let go of me.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  I shrugged. “This is new territory for me, Rafael. I… I just need some time. Some space. I want to build my business and see my friends and go climbing. I’ll see you around a good bit, I expect.”

  “And you won’t mind that?”

  “N… no. I won’t mind that at all.”

  He gave the room a look. “It’s nice. I didn’t realize you were so Spartan in your taste.”

  “I’m not. It reminds me of your room.” The words just kind of slipped out and there was no way to take them back. Rafael flashed me a small, diminutive version of his sexy grin.

  He took a step toward me and, slowly, so that I had a chance to move out of his reach should I have wanted to, he took my hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it.

  “How are you feeling, Evelyn?”

  I shrugged. “I accepted your apology, but… I’m sorry. My feelings are… unsettled. I am still angry. Like, really angry. I’m angry at you and I’m angry at me.”

  “Why at yourself?” The warmth of his hand, the sincere curiosity in his voice, all that conspired to make something snap deep inside me.

  “Because I’m so weak. So weak, anyone can invade my space in the shower. And it’s so damn hard to say something when things start to go bad. Raf… you were so angry… so angry I wasn’t sure you were going to stop. I was afraid you were going to use something intended to give pleasure and closeness, and used it to inflict pain. Punish. Dominate. And being too small to do anything about it felt just so fuckin’ humiliating!” My eyes felt slightly moist, and rage filled me at the memory. To my utter horror I felt a tear drop escape the confines of my eyelids.

  My fist, out of control and flying through the air, cracked against Rafael’s cheek, splitting his upper lip. He hissed in pain but didn’t move.

  “I deserved that,” he said, his words enunciated despite the thin trickle of blood coming down the corner of his mouth.

  “I… Evelyn… I think I’m destined to be alone in this lifetime. I don’t play well with others. You know that by now. The people I love just wink out of my life before their time. My parents perished at sea – they hired a charter boat for their wedding anniversary. I was still in college at the time. The boat got caught up in a storm. They were gone, just like that. And then, last year, Celia. She was laughing at some stupid joke one day, then she headed out to the Catskil
ls for a quick climb, and… gone. Now you – when you disappeared off my radar screen like that, I – I panicked.”

  His eyes shone with unshed tears, but his composure held. Rafael wasn’t the kind of guy who would cry.

  “My first thought was, another one down. Another one gone. “

  He stood on the threshold of my new bedroom, looking entirely bereft and alone.

  The man I loved.

  Ready to be told to please go, go and never come back. His haunted, ocean-blue eyes misted over and he turned, headed for the door.

  Leaving.

  Another one was leaving me.

  “Don’t leave.” I was behind him in a flash, my arms wrapped around his waist, my face buried in his shoulder.

  “I’m staying here tonight. You’re welcome to join me.”

  Raf turned around, his arms swallowing me in a hungry embrace. We fit so well, he and I.

  “There’s just one thing…” I looked up at him, already tempted by his soft, passionate lips.

  “Anything, Evelyn.” His words were but a gentle exhale.

  “I don’t feel like doing anything. Probably won’t, not until the bruises fade.”

  “Bruises?” He look aghast. “Oh…I’m so very, very, very sorry…” His words were whispered into the crook of my neck as we rocked from side to side, soothing one another.

  “What do you do to channel your anger?” He asked, finally breaking the long silence.

  I shrugged. “I break dishes.”

  “Break dishes…” I heard his awed whisper by my ear. Somehow, he sounded like he was trying to remember a phone number.

  “Break dishes…break dishes…break dishes…”

  CHAPTER 17

  Suit jacket cast over a spare office chair, I loosened the cuffs that restrained the pristine, billowing sleeves of my silk blouse, and I discretely adjusted the way the narrow, beige skirt sat on my hips.

  “Can’t believe it’s Thursday already,” I yawned at Rick Blanchard. He was young – my age, I guess – and as his white-haired head lifted from the cheat-sheet for his “introductory remarks”, his black corneal implants shone with an alien, almost maniacal gleam. We were long past the introductory dance of two coworkers, where both parties are polite and a bit strained. He had asked his inappropriate questions about my relationship with Rafael, presumably getting the lay of the land; I’d already retaliated by mentioning his freaky eyes, and was regaled with the tale of his sight-saving corneal replacement surgery and how the experimental, biomimetic material darkened over time after being exposed to sunlight. “It was freaky,” he’d said at the time. “But better than being blind, right, Your Majesty?” Now all that was just water under the bridge; now we worked like a well-oiled machine.

 

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