I grasped onto the doorframe, hoisted myself into a standing position and slowly walked to the sink. I turned the faucet on and rinsed my mouth out. The light over the sink was too bright and making my eyes hurt, but every time I closed them the images flooded my mind. But in that memory it wasn’t Sophia’s image on the TV, it was Emma’s.
I knew Donicko was fucking with me. I knew he was riling me up, but why? What was his purpose? It had been almost thirteen years. What could he possibly want from me?
I splashed cold water on my face and patted my cheeks with my hands. I felt drained, but I could still feel the anxiety, fear, and loneliness creeping inside, the darkness burning, itching under my skin.
I reached a shaky hand out and opened the drawer. I stared at the razor willing the feelings to go away, but I knew they wouldn’t. I knew it was the only way to get it to stop. It was the way my mind was programmed. Nothing would ever change. I’d be that way forever.
Grabbing the razor, I immediately brought it down to my hip, dug it into my skin and pulled. It wasn’t a surface cut.
I groaned out in pain as the razor pulled at my skin, tearing a chunk away due to the remnants left on the razor I hadn’t cleaned off from the last time. It was a stupid mistake and the pain made me queasy, but I still felt that sense of relief.
I looked down at my hip, at my torn flesh, and dropped the razor to the floor. There was no other way to describe me other than to say I was a monster.
Everything I’d done had led to it, even the scars I’d put on my body.
I watched as the blood ran down to the floor, my penance for all my wrongdoings. I was the spawn of a monstrous man, so I was bound to be a monster, as well.
I looked up into the mirror and stared into my eyes, eyes that didn’t belong to my mother or John. I never questioned why I was the only one with eyes the shade of the sky, why I was granted my handsome looks. Maybe it was all a test. Maybe I was meant to look pleasing to gain the trust of others. Looks were, after all, deceiving.
Rage built in my chest and I lifted my hand and roared as I punched the mirror. I punched it until every shard of glass was spread out around me. I hated my life and who I’d become.
I didn’t dare look at my knuckles and fingers as I sat down on the floor among the glass. I knew they would be a mess, but I deserved everything I could do to myself.
I was nothing and I would stay nothing until the day I died.
Chapter 29
Emmalynn
I woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed as my heart pounded in my chest. Something woke me, but I had no idea what it was.
Looking around the room, it took me a moment to figure out where I was, but then a smile crept up on my face. Thoughts of the night before played in my mind, his actions saying everything I’d needed to hear. I knew he was a complicated man, but this was turning into something. I could feel it with every touch. Mason was an amazing lover and he took me to heights I’d never been to before.
Glancing to my right, I noticed he was no longer beside me. I knew he didn’t do sleepovers and I didn’t have any intention of staying, but I had no control over the exhaustion of my body.
Getting out of bed, I stretched my worn-out muscles before going to use the restroom. After I was done, I picked up my discarded bra and thong and put them back on. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep so I set out to search for Mason.
I was walking toward the door and stopped short when I heard a shrill yell followed by the sound of broken glass. My eyes widened in fear and my body froze in its place. I knew it was Mason. It had to be.
Without thinking, my body moved and I was walking in the direction where I continued to hear glass break. It was coming from a room at the end of the hall. The door was wide open, but barely lit by the sun just beginning to rise.
My heart was beating wildly as I walked past the threshold; I could feel the pounding coming out of my ears. I didn’t know what to expect when I walked in and in the back of my mind I was telling myself to hightail it out of there, but it was being ignored.
I entered the room and looked around. The bed was still made, but the light to the bathroom was on with the door partially opened. The noises stopped and I held my breath, thinking I would be less conspicuous if I wasn’t heard breathing so heavily.
I should stay in the room, or better yet, I should go back to the room I was in and wait for him to come find me. But I couldn’t. After hearing the glass break, I wanted to make sure he was okay. It was the caring bone in my body that wouldn’t let me walk away. I had to make sure everything was all right, and deep down I knew it wasn’t. I had that gut-wrenching feeling it was going to be bad…really bad.
I slowly made my way to the bathroom door and let out a slow, easy breath as I got closer. I was scared. That bellow had gone straight to my bones, causing the hairs to stand on end, and I could hear broken glass being moved around which only put me even more on edge.
Taking one final step, I was close enough to look into the room without making it obvious I was there. I peeked around the door and the sight I was met with was beyond anything I could have imagined.
I had to hold back the gasp begging to leave my lips.
He was sitting on the floor among shards of glass. The mirror that had been above the sink was completely obliterated. The larger pieces lay on the sink, but most of it was on the ground and he was sitting directly on pieces of glass…and he was nude.
But what had me cringing in pain for him were his bloodied knuckles. The top of his right hand looked like it had been through a shredder, and I knew he had to be in pain. He needed to go to the hospital, but he just sat there holding his head in his hands. I couldn’t imagine what would make him do something like that, but something had obviously happened.
Lifting his head, he wiped at his eyes as if he were crying then ran his left hand through his hair. That was when our eyes locked and for a brief moment, it was as if we were on some faraway planet trying to figure out what species the other was. Like we were seeing each other for the very first time, but then reality hit and his awed expression turned to anger.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he yelled as he pushed up on his legs to stand up.
‘Fight or flight’ kicked in, but I pushed past my instinct to run. All I could do was stare at him. I didn’t even know what to say. My feet were frozen to the floor and my vocal cords no longer worked. He was standing there completely naked and he had blood smeared all over his chest, which I assumed was from his knuckles, but then I saw his hips. There was a huge gash with blood oozing out and I could see white, puckered scars on both sides of his hips.
Is he cutting himself?
“Get the fuck out,” he demanded.
I kept my eyes diverted as I continued to stare, watching the blood run down his leg. The thought to go forward and help him crossed my mind, but my body wouldn’t move.
“Do you like what you see?” he spat. “Get a good fucking look,” he said as he held his arms up in order for me to see all of him. “This is the man you want to get to know. Do you want to get to know this side of me, Emma?”
I looked over his body, my eyes filled with tears at the thought of him hurting himself on purpose.
“W-wh-why?” I stuttered. I had no idea what else to say and that was the only word that came out.
He laughed. “Why?” He shook his head and took a step toward me. I backed up, closer to the wall. “I told you I was bad for you. I told you there were things about me you wouldn’t like.”
I back-stepped into the bedroom as he ascended on me. I didn’t know what to do. He was freaking me out. The tears of sadness that streamed down my cheeks switched to fear as his eyes turned cold. Something in him had changed, or maybe it was there all along and I just didn’t want to see it.
I looked down at his hip again, at the blood caking on his thigh and calf as it ran down.
“You need to g
et to a hospital, Mason. I’m not a doctor, but that looks really bad.”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” he said through gritted teeth. I looked at him in shock because it wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. “Get the fuck out of my house!” he roared.
I gasped and fled from the room. I was in full-on panic mode as I got the rest of my stuff, and I didn’t think about anything other than getting away from him as I ran down the stairs. I stopped in his study and quickly put on my dress before I flew out of the house. I ran until I made it to the corner of the street and broke into sobs. It felt like I was stuck in some kind of dream. Did all of that really happen? I was so distraught that all I could do was sit there on the side of the road.
It was still very early in the morning, so I couldn’t call Melanie to come get me. I’ll have to call a cab, but first I need to settle down. My heart was about to pound out of my chest. I had to take a moment and let my mind register exactly what I’d seen.
He had scars all over his hip, bad ones. A lot of bad ones, from the looks of it. And they didn’t appear accidental.
I wiped under my eyes, freeing them from tears. He was right. He would ruin me in more ways than one. I didn’t know how I’d be able to show my face in class. I knew the little fling we had going on was over. I wouldn’t ever be able to look at him the same way, and it was all stupidity on my part. I should have known better.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed the closest cab service and asked for a pick-up. I’d have to wait almost an hour until I’d get home, but that was okay. It would give me time to think.
My future was my main focus and I couldn’t let myself get so easily distracted again. I’d only met him not even two weeks prior and he was all I’d thought about after that short amount of time.
I couldn’t do that again. It wasn’t me.
But then again, he’d made me do things I wouldn’t normally do.
After arriving home from the best and worst night of my life, I made the decision to talk to Melanie about it in the morning. I should have told her from the beginning; then maybe she could have saved me from another heartache.
Chapter 30
Mason
“Fuck!” I punched the wall with my good hand and hissed as it went through the drywall.
I wasn’t fucking thinking, and I’d completely forgotten she was still in the fucking house. I’d given myself to her that night, something I’d never done, and then I’d woken up from a dream crazed and delirious, not knowing how the fuck I’d gotten there.
Fuck.
I let her see me. All of me. My years of self-destruction, and the first thing she’d thought to say was I needed to go to the hospital.
I laughed.
I looked down at my hand that was still balled into a fist. Skin was hanging off the knuckles, but it looked worse than it actually was. My hip was another story. I’d definitely need stitches, but there was no way I was going to the hospital.
Walking down to my office as slowly as I could, I picked up my cell and dialed the only person I knew could help me.
“Hello,” he answered groggily.
“Luke. I need your help.” The words took a moment to come out. It was rare that I asked anyone for help; I wasn’t that kind of guy. Asking for help made you seem weak and I wasn’t, but there were times I had to give in. I looked down at my hip at the chunk of skin hanging open. It was definitely time to give in.
“What happened?” Luke asked, sounding more awake.
I didn’t answer. “Bring your kit and make it quick.”
I hung up the phone, walked to the sitting area across the foyer and sat down on the sofa. Blood was getting everywhere, but I didn’t care. I could have it all fucking replaced. The pain shooting up from my hip was excruciating, but I just gritted my teeth and dealt with it. I deserved everything I could give myself.
Luke would show up and fix my hip. He’d done it before. He was a partier, but with all his partying he’d still gone to school to be a doctor. He never finished, but he still knew what he was doing and he was the only person who knew about the cutting. He was the only one I trusted. He was like a brother to me. He’d asked me on several occasions why I did it, but I never gave him an answer. How could you answer something you yourself don’t understand? How would I explain to someone the relief I felt at the pain I caused myself was like a high? He’d want me to be examined by a shrink, and maybe he’d be right. Maybe I needed to be examined. Maybe I needed to be sent to a padded room. Maybe then I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else.
I needed to find a way to shut the Black Widow down. He ruined my whole life, him and John. I couldn’t keep living the way I was, and they needed to pay for everything they’d put me through. I still blamed myself for my mother’s death, but John was the reason she was going to leave that day. She found out what he was involved in and he would have had her quieted, more than likely killed. But Sophia? That was all a mind-fuck. He fucked up any chance I had at a normal life. He ruined any chance I’d ever have at a normal relationship. My feelings for Emma were doomed from the start.
I rested my head back on the couch, my body feeling completely drained. All the adrenaline was leaving my body and sleep was trying to take over. I closed my eyes and pictured Emma’s face. I’d never forget the look on her face when our eyes locked in the bathroom. She’d looked at me with sympathy, and I hated that fucking look. I hated it even more coming from her. I didn’t want or need it. It pissed me the fuck off, and I’d yelled for her to leave.
I put fear into her and although that wasn’t what I’d necessarily wanted, it was for the best. She would be better off not knowing me. She’d be safer forgetting me. I couldn’t let anything happen to her. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
I looked down at my hip, the blood running onto the couch. So many scars marked my skin, but my need would never go away. I was bound to ruin anything in my wake, and it was the number one reason why I never let anyone get close. I was poison. I’d done enough damage in my life; I didn’t want to destroy her.
There was no saving me, but I could save her.
Donicko planted that idea in my head for a reason. He wanted me to react and he was getting his wish, but this time I was older. I wasn’t going to be a puppet.
I would find a way to bring those fuckers down. I knew it would be hard and I knew I’d have to be careful. Donicko was not a man many people fucked with. He had high-society leaders and officials wrapped around his finger. He was the leader of their group, or that was what I’d gathered over the years. He’d used money and favors to get the kind of lenience he had. Everything had a price, and I’d have to figure out how to get to the heart of the organization. It wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it; I just had to think like John. I was his son, after all.
The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.
Stay tuned for Book 2 in The Professor Series
About the Author
J.M. La Rocca was born in Chicago, IL. At an early age, her family relocated to lower Alabama where she began her love for writing. She currently resides in Pensacola, FL with her husband and twin sons. As a stay at home mom, La Rocca was able to pursue her love for writing. It was always an unrealized dream to write her own books. With the love and support from her husband Tony, family, and friends, she set forth and fulfilled that dream.
Aside from writing she also loves to read, listen to music, drink wine, indulge on chocolate, chase her little ones around, and spend time with her family and friends.
Where you can find me:
Website: http://www.jmlaroccabooks.com
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7056502.J_M_LaRocca
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Other works by J.M. La Rocca
Lifeless Series
Lifeless
My Beautiful
Drifting into Darkness
Drifting into Light ( coming 2015)
Acknowledgments
Writing this book took a lot of time. Every time I stopped I had to take my time to get back into Mason’s head. He wasn’t an easy character to write and still isn’t. He’s complicated and demanding, but he has so much to say, and I love him.
During my writing process I have a few people that I talk to constantly, people who push me to get words in or help me with my creativity. Emmy Montes and Jessica Prince have been my writing partners for over a year. I love them dearly. It’s rare that we go a day without at least saying ‘get to work’ or ‘who’s writing today’. They pushed me and encouraged me and in doing so they have made me a better writer. Emmy was actually the first person I told about my idea for this book and we talked for a few hours about where the storyline would go. She helped me so much and I couldn’t appreciate her more.
Then, there is my agent Kimberly Brower, who rocked at editing when I finally finished. I’m honestly still in shock that I have an agent and I’m so honored to have her as a new friend and partner. Professor Cline wouldn’t be what it is today without her feedback.
Tonya Nichols, my new friend and cheerleader, you seriously rock my socks off. You’ve helped me so much along the way and I know I’ve told you many times before, but I appreciate everything you do for me. I’m glad that Kellie Montgomery suggested you into my street team. Hehe
Street team, all of you ladies are amazing. Thank you so very much for spreading the word about my work. Without you, readers wouldn’t know about my work.
Finally, to my husband and kids. Thank you so much for understanding how hard I work. There are some days I’m a complete train wreck, but you love me anyway.
Professor Cline Revealed (The Professor #1) Page 21