Broken (Breaking the Rules)

by Webster, K

  **Kindle Edition**

  Broken

  Copyright © 2014 K. Webster

  Cover Design: Wicked by Design

  Stock Photo: iStock

  Editor: Mickey Reed

  Formatting: Self Publishing Editing Service

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Grandmother, you encouraged my love for reading very early on in my life and I will forever be grateful for you showing me how to escape a terrible world and dive in to a wonderful one without ever having to leave my seat.

  5 months earlier…

  We were dead. Not a soul had walked into the café for the last two hours, which was completely insane for New York City. The Taylor Swift concert in Central Park had completely stolen away all of our patrons. Bored to tears, I scrolled through my phone, looking at pictures of me and Brayden.

  Brayden was the love of my life. We met our first year at Columbia in Freshman Comp. His messy blond hair and crystal blue eyes had captivated me from the moment he sat down beside me. We had started out as friends but quickly morphed into lovers. He stole my breath every time I saw him. Even to this day.

  Bray was at Columbia on a baseball scholarship, studying Architecture like me. Now that graduation was just two weeks away, we’d be able to start focusing on the rest of our lives. A few months ago, on Valentine’s Day, he proposed to me in Central Park. It was terribly cliché and romantic. Of course now, instead of focusing on finals, I could only think of my upcoming wedding and becoming the future Mrs. Brayden Greene.

  I stopped on a recent picture of us after a baseball game. We were so happy, smiling back in the photo. The All-American couple. I thought this picture would be the perfect one for our engagement announcement that was going to go in the newspaper soon.

  Dragging me out of my daydreaming, my boss Jeanie hollered at me. “Honey, you might as well go home. I can’t afford for us to be this slow and pay you to drool over your fiancé. Think of it as your engagement present. Your one and only day to ever get out early. You can thank Taylor Swift.”

  Completely excited over the news because I never got to leave early, I ran over and pulled the gruff woman into a hug. “Thank you, Jeanie!” I exclaimed. Pushing me away with a grunt, she said, “Well, go before I change my mind, little lady. And don’t get any ideas about this happening again.” Thank you, Taylor Swift.

  Bray and I hardly ever got to spend evenings together because of my job at the café and his playing baseball. This evening I was going to surprise him. Give him a taste of what a good wife I could be. He was going to love what I planned on doing to him once I got hold of his sexy body.

  Practically skipping the two blocks to my dorm, I rushed into my room and changed out of my uniform. I put on my new black lingerie that I’d been dying to show him and stopped to admire myself in the mirror. Heels. I needed heels to complete the look. Just as I slipped them on, the door flung open, revealing my roommate Pepper.

  “What the hell, Andi!” she screeched covering her eyes as she made a beeline to her desk.

  “I got out of work early and I’m going to surprise Bray,” I told her, smiling. Even with her back to me, I could tell she was rolling her eyes. Pepper was an adorable girl, but she hid behind her glasses, Columbia sweatshirts, and messy buns. She was one of the most intelligent people I had ever met.

  Having been placed together as dorm mates, we instantly became the best of friends. I was the sweet, innocent girl in love with a baseball player. She was the Victoria’s Secret model dressed as a nerd with a little—okay, a lot—of attitude. We came from different worlds and liked different things but meshed incredibly well.

  “Are you going to prance on over to his room dressed like a hooker?” she asked in her sardonic tone.

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “No way! I’m going to wear my coat. He won’t know what hit him,” I laughed. She tried to sound annoyed with me, but Pepper was in no way immune to my happy-girl charms and let out a chuckle.

  Wrapping up in my jacket, I blew her a kiss as I walked out the door. Bray wouldn’t be expecting me for few more hours so he was going to be shocked when he saw me. He told me he’d be studying for finals in his room while I was working, so I knew he’d be there. And if his roommate Josh was there, I was going to tell him to get lost. I missed Bray and I wanted to have some hot sex with my fiancé. Fiancé. I still couldn’t get used to the idea.

  When I got to his room, I quietly opened it, wanting to surprise him. Realizing that the lights were off and that he might be napping, I decided I was going to hop into bed with him and really surprise my man. That was until I heard the moan. What in the world is he doing over there?

  Hesitantly, I fumbled for the switch. My eyes froze in horror at the scene before me. A naked girl—with really big boobs—was bouncing on MY naked Brayden. What? I was having trouble processing how a naked girl was with MY fiancé.

  Everything went in slow motion at that point. The girl jumped up, scrambling for clothes. Brayden asked me what I was doing there while covering himself with the blanket. I was backing out of the room, tears wickedly streaming. He called after me as I ran away. The man had effectively smashed my heart to pieces.

  The trip back to my room was a blur. Once I burst through our door, I met Pepper’s eyes. She instantly held her arms open to me, and I ran into them.

  “Brayden is a bastard,” she whispered, stroking my hair, knowing without words what had happened. My life was ruined. This happy girl would no longer ever be happy.

  Present

  “Come on, Andi! I don’t have all day. Some of us have been ready for hours,” Pepper called to me from the living room. Of course she’d been ready for hours. She was wearing jeans and a sweater for crying out loud, and it probably took two minutes to readjust her bun.

  “Perfection takes time,” I told Olive, who was sitting on my bed while I applied the last of my makeup. “You sure you don’t want to go with us, hon?” I asked, turning to look at her. Olive was our new friend. She was a gorgeous black girl with legs that went
on for miles. Her hair was smooth as silk and her eyes were the palest orbs that contrasted vividly against her chocolate skin.

  Olive moved in with us about a month ago. She somehow managed to escape an extremely abusive relationship but had nowhere to go. When I found her crying at the café one day, I took her under my wing, praying Pepper would be okay with it. Of course Pepper fell in love with the leggy chocolate goddess as well, and she’d been living with us ever since.

  Olive got modeling gigs left and right because she was perfection personified. But her fears of her ex sometimes cripple her socially. A lot of times. Like tonight, she was adamantly shaking her head to my offer. She had a fear that she might run into Drake and he’d drag her away from us, never to be seen again. It always gave me the shivers to think about what he must have done to her to make her so afraid. And the fact that she refused to ever let us see her without being fully clothed made me wonder if he’d done something to her body. Just the thought made me sick to my stomach.

  The modeling jobs she took were mostly for magazines. She absolutely refused to do any live modeling at shows even though that would have been the best way for her to get noticed by more well-known agents. Olive gave us money when she got paid on these jobs, but we never asked her for any. We just wanted our girl safe with us.

  I didn’t make much money at the café so Pepper was our breadwinner. Well, if you call having a monthly trust fund “breadwinning” then she was definitely it. Her dad was a high-powered attorney there in the city and didn’t want his little girl to hurt for anything. We lived in a sweet little apartment and didn’t hurt for much either thanks to Pepper being “Daddy’s Little Girl.” Oh, and she played the part so well. The girl could be downright bitchy, but when—Daddy—was around, her voice was as sweet as sugar.

  Thankfully, I was going to start my new job on Monday and would be able to help Pepper out more than just buying the groceries. Even though her dad took care of a lot for us, I still felt guilty about being a total freeloader. Today was my last day at the café and now we were going to celebrate. It took several months after college of applying all over the city to finally land a job at Compton Enterprises. The job I really wanted was to be an architect, but working as an assistant at an architectural firm was a good foot in the door. Everyone has to start somewhere.

  “One day I’ll go with you guys. But it’s just too soon. Please have fun for me. I have a date with American Idol,” she smiled at me.

  “Okay, fine. But I’m holding you to it. Now, how do I look?” I asked her, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

  Ever since the day I found Brayden cheating on me, something in me snapped. Gone was the blond-haired innocent. Gone was my optimism. My outlook on life and love had been ruined the moment I saw that girl’s big tits bouncing as she rode my man. He had stolen it all away from me when he decided to sleep with some bimbo after almost four years of dating.

  Now, I was this hard, jaded woman. Away had gone my conservative ways and I had welcomed my inner skank. I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. My platinum-blond hair was flat-ironed perfectly straight halfway down my back. I had carefully made up my face, complete with smoky eyes and plump red lips. The dress I chose to wear was black, tight, and short. Just the way I liked it. The plunging neckline revealed my adequate cleavage. My red pumps put me up three inches higher than my five foot seven frame.

  “You look beautiful as always, Andi,” Olive genuinely assured, making me smile at her.

  I was in “Man-Killer Mode” as Pepper called it. I’d have them falling at my feet tonight. One of them would get lucky too. I was on the prowl, and even Pepper wouldn’t be able to tame me. This Friday night was about to get crazy.

  “Thanks, babe. See you in the morning,” I waved to her as I grabbed my clutch and walked out my bedroom door. Pepper was curled up in the recliner reading a book. “Let’s go, bitch,” I told her as I shrugged into my coat.

  “About time, bitch,” she shot at me, picking up hers from the back of the chair as she stood up. Man-Killer Mode: Activated.

  A DARK TWO WEEKS…

  Today, I am absolutely sick to my stomach. Not eating hardly anything for several days straight has sent my body into a tailspin. My head throbs, I’m weak, my body hurts, and now I am throwing up. Pepper told me earlier that things were getting out of control, that she was going to drag me out of the bed if I didn’t get my act together soon. I just flipped her off and threw the covers over my head.

  Thankfully, I was caught up on all of my classes before the “incident.” I was really just waiting to take my finals. I have worked my ass off for four years. Surely I can take the week off without catching flak from Pepper. Wishful thinking.

  My heart still hurts so fucking bad. I keep playing reruns over and over again of “what-ifs”. Every scenario ends the same. Bray is a cheater. He even had the nerve to come to my dorm room, but luckily Pepper ran interference.

  Hearing his voice successfully caused me to break down all over again. He was begging her. She was cussing him out. I was sobbing uncontrollably.

  Will it ever get better? I’ll never be able to love or trust again. Brayden was it for me. Now I have nothing.

  The cab ride only took ten minutes since the new bar we wanted to go to was just a few blocks away. On the way there, I thought about how my life had gone from spending every weekend with my fiancé to sleeping with a different guy each weekend instead. Since Bray had left me a broken mess with his infidelity, I woke up one morning needing a different way to live. The way I could cope was to sleep around with successful, hot men and drop them before either of us could get invested emotionally. It made for exciting weekends full of free dinners and lots of unattached sex.

  In the last five months, I had morphed into this succubus—taking their energy and keeping it for my own. And I loved every minute of it. Unfortunately, there were always the guys who would seem genuinely hurt when the weekend was over. Thus—our little escapades would effectively be over too. Somehow I was a bitch and a whore even though the little shits knew from the get-go what to expect. Pepper said that I needed help. I thought I was doing just fine. My heart never hurt anymore, that’s for damn sure.

  Once we had graduated and moved into Pepper’s apartment, she had gotten a job at the museum as an assistant production manager. Her degree was actually being put to some use. I was still whipping up lattes and running out deli sandwiches to a busy crowd. Finally, though, things were looking up, because I had successfully ended my last day at the café today and would embark on my future on Monday. My interview had gone great at Compton Enterprises. The owner of the company, Jordan Compton, was who I would be assisting. He’d told me that the ability to advance at the company was available if I were willing to work for it. I was eager to finally start my career after all these months since graduation.

  When the cab stopped, I paid the driver and we got out. For a moment, we drank in the atmosphere of the new bar. Dempsey’s was glowing above the entrance in red—promising a new tantalizing adventure. I’d heard that it was an Irish pub-like bar that was modern and cool. They’d only been open a few weeks and had already hosted some great local bands. Tonight, a new local favorite, The Remains, were supposed to be playing.

  When I walked to the entrance, the meaty-looking guy checked our IDs and grumbled, “Twenty-dollar cover each.”

  “What the fuck?” Pepper exclaimed. “Twenty dollars just to let me in the door and then I still have to pay you to drink the damn alcohol?” She was glaring at him, pissed at the overpriced cover fee.

  Just as I was about to tell Pepper to chill out, another man whispered into Meathead’s ear, causing him to frown. “Nevermind. You’ve been paid for,” he muttered gruffly, stepping aside so we could pass. I looked down at my very naked, very long legs. Score one for Andi. Smiling at Meathead, we entered the bar.

  The smells instantly intoxicated me as we walked in. The mix of smoke, lager, and an oaky sme
ll permeated my senses. Clearly the band hadn’t come on yet because all that could be heard was the dull roar of people talking. The bar was quite spacious, and it exuded richness. The tables and barstools all were dark mahogany. I looked around and noticed that the walls were lined in mahogany paneling from floor to ceiling. I almost thought this place could be a library at a really rich person’s house.

  Grabbing Pepper’s hand, I walked her over to the bar so we could get drinks. The many hungry stares as we passed didn’t go unnoticed, and I shivered at how it excited me. Knowing that I could have whatever man I wanted in here made me feel powerful. I’d be fucking one of these poor souls in just a few hours. I smiled as I scanned the crowd.

  When we got to the bar, I squeezed between two barstools so I could tell the bartender our order. When he came over, I drank in his piercings, tattoos, and Irish accent.

  “What can I get you two lovely ladies?”

  “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan and a Cape Cod,” I told him. He winked at me and went over to make our drinks. He was pretty good-looking, but if I ever wanted to come back to this bar again, I’d have to pass this one up.

  “When do The Remains come on?” Pepper asked, looking over at the empty stage.

  “In fifteen minutes,” the gravelly voiced bartender told us as he handed us our drinks. I pulled out a twenty to pay for our drinks, but he held up a hand, stopping me. “Ladies, I would pretty much say every drink you want for the rest of the night will be free. I just had several different guys say that they wanted to buy your drinks,” he laughed.

  I smiled and thanked him before Pepper and I made our way to the stage. We sat at a tall table near the stage as two people vacated it. Pepper pushed the still smoking ashtray away from us and brought her Cape Cod to her lips to take a sip. “This place is nice, Andi. I’m glad we came. However, I kind of feel like we’re at a meat market and we’re big, juicy steaks,” she reported, snidely rolling her eyes at the guys a table over who were blatantly ogling us.