Pink Lilies (Beautiful People Book 1)

by Lacee Hightower

  “Honey, she’s been living in Arlington for a good year now. She transferred to UTA last year. This was her last semester. I asked her several times why the two of you hadn’t gotten together any, but she always said you were both too busy.”

  Even though I knew Becca moved to the Metroplex, I hadn’t tried contacting her. Always planning on it, life being so hectic, I just never seemed to make time. When she called the one time, I was short with her. Now I felt guilty about that. Johnny stared at the floor, popping his knuckles. If I had ever once been around him when he didn’t purposely crack the joints on his hands, I couldn’t remember. The popping sound that Becca and I grew up listening to was the funniest thing in the world when we were kids. Somehow, today it didn’t seem so funny. It only came across as sad.

  “Alex, I want to fill you in a little before everybody gets here.”

  Becca was always a health nut. A vegan since we were kids, I didn’t know her to ever touch alcohol, much less drugs.

  “How did she get involved in drugs, Aunt Nancy?” Still silent, my uncle hadn’t said more than three words since I got there.

  “She wasn’t doing drugs, honey. Your uncle and I refuse to believe any different. You know how healthy Becca was. That hadn’t changed. The detectives know she was going to some kind of sex club, but they’re not sure which one, or who she was going with just yet. Her journal spoke of a doctor, but never listed a name. Hopefully, we’ll hear something soon.

  Nancy took a long drink of the coffee that was pretty much undrinkable. San Angelo’s water had to be the most foul-tasting water known to mankind, reminding me of dirty dishwater with some sort of chemical taste. Needless to say, I wasn’t going to be able to get down much of it.

  “What do you think really happened?” Johnny’s face suddenly turned dark red, the vein in the side of his neck bobbing up and down as he struggled keeping it together.

  “It’s all a fucking bullshit story, Alex,” Johnny lashed out. “Forgive my language, but this is not my little girl these dick detectives have described to us. My daughter didn’t do drugs! And she sure as hell didn’t go to sex clubs.” In a split second, he stood and walked toward the kitchen, mumbling, “fucking bullshit.”

  “Please forgive him for his outburst and language, Alex. This is just so hard.”

  “No apology necessary, Nancy. He’s upset. We all are.”

  We both jumped as the back door slammed, staring at the painting on the wall that suddenly drooped on one side from the impact of the door. I suspected Johnny was going outside to smoke. Two heart attacks and a mild stroke still hadn’t broken him of his nasty habit, even after Nancy had finally put her foot down and demanded he stop lighting up in the house. My mother had the same addiction and I worried constantly, knowing her newly discovered COPD was going to progress every day that she continued smoking.

  “What else are they saying? What’s going on here?”

  “I don’t understand any of it either, Alex. The autopsy showed her system was full of heroin and fentanyl.”

  “Fentanyl? I’m not even sure what that is.”

  “When mixed with heroin,” Nancy said, “fentanyl apparently multiplies the effect drastically.” Jesus!

  Becca Bohmann doing drugs? Attending sex clubs? No freaking way! Always the goody-goody in the group, she was one of the few girls in our circle who never messed around with guys and didn’t touch alcohol. None of this made sense.

  “Do you want to read the suicide letter, Alex?” Nancy reached inside a manila folder on the coffee table. “It’s only a copy, but it’s a colored copy. They thought the purple stationary may ring a bell.” Nancy shrugged. “But it doesn’t. Maybe you can make something of it, because we certainly haven’t been able to.”

  “Becca left a note?” This was all just so surreal.

  “Okay,” I whispered in a half statement, half question. Bile threatened my throat as I stared down at Becca’s small handwriting.

  “Her roommate, Mickey, found a journal she’d been keeping, which is where the detectives got most their information, which is really very little. They’re still holding that and her cell phone as evidence, but said we could have them back when they’re done.”

  Comprehending what I was reading was impossible. Yet there it was, bright and clear in my cousin’s one-of-a-kind handwriting. My gut wrenching, I read her final thoughts, knowing this had to have been the most dreadful moment of her short life.

  Mom & Dad,

  Please forgive me. Don’t be sad.

  As I write this, I’m haunted by memories of what could have been. I feel shame for my weaknesses. They’re plentiful. I hear voices and I don’t know where they’re coming from.

  The last weeks of my life have been my best ever, though. I owe that to the man who changed me for the better. He knows who he is. He was very good for me. He taught me things I would have never learned had I not met him. But in the end, I wanted more. He only offered less.

  It’s okay though. I’ve had a good life. I just don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be in pain. My passion has burned out. I have no more energy.

  I love you both,

  Becca

  My body was trembling. With emotions impossible to hide, tears bit the corners of my eyes. All I could think of was simply, why? How could she just give up? My uncle and aunt would never be the same.

  None of us would.

  ****

  8:00 PM, I was settled into Mom and Dad’s house. Propped up on a pillow on the overly-soft mattress, I stared at the ceiling in the quiet house I’d grown up in. My parents got into some stormy weather and wouldn’t get home until sometime during the night or early tomorrow, while my older brother, Adam, wouldn’t be making it at all. A marine, he was deployed in Afghanistan, so there was no chance he could get home.

  I stared at the water-stained popcorn ceiling, wondering why in hell Becca would do this. Taking her life over a man just didn’t sound like her. Neither did visiting sex clubs. Only an assumption as far as I was concerned, until we had straight up proof, I was calling bullshit. According to her letter, her partner wouldn’t take their relationship any further than where it was. Becca had plainly fallen in love with this mystery man and wanted something more. He, on the other hand, felt differently … if this was all true. Who the hell was this stranger? I would find this sorry bastard if it was the last thing I ever did.

  Chapter Four

  Tyler

  Three Days Earlier

  Holy fucking shit! What were the chances?

  In an energetic mood when I woke up, I’d gotten in a quick run on the treadmill before starting my morning, promises of a productive day ahead. No idea I was going to get scalded by hot coffee and get doughnut glaze smeared all over me, that was the simplest part of my morning. When I made introductions with the petite, auburn-haired beauty and saw that damn dimple… Heard that name.

  Alexa ‘Alex’ Bohmann. How the hell?

  This was no coincidence.

  The smile was all the proof I needed. The girl was related to Becca. The damn erotic-looking dimple on her left cheek jumped right out and bitch slapped me in the face, distracting the complete fuck out of me and teasing my cock to the point I couldn’t continue with our conversation afterwards. When, at first, I’d considered asking her to dinner.

  What were the fucking odds of literally running into a relative of my ex-submissive?

  Between the clinic and Venture, contact with females was plentiful. Many were attractive. Some were beautiful, and some pulled the chain on my Dominant factor, giving me thoughts of pulling out my cock and bending them over my exam table. I’d seen a plethora of beautiful women, but this one was anything but normal. She nearly dropped me to my knees in a matter of seconds. Clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed by what she’d done, she was blushing and licking the side of her damn bottom lip. Her apparent nervousness was gratifying. She couldn’t even look me in the eye without her cheeks reddening. Such a submissive move,
she was the most beautiful creation my eyes had ever landed on. Her smile awakened everything between my legs, turning it into cement.

  Opposite of Becca physically, Alexa’s hair was dark and long with big waves falling down around her shoulders, her body curvy and petite, just the way I liked a woman to look. She wasn’t one of those stick figures that I couldn’t stand, that refused to eat anything other than tasteless chicken and dry lettuce with dressing on the side. Why the fuck did women do that? Clad in low-cut, tight black jeans that left very damn little to the imagination, they showcased the curve of her beautiful ass. Underneath the short tight shirt that barely covered her entire stomach, were perky, small, round tits, the entire ensemble something that would be off limits in public if she were mine, without my permission.

  And then there were those don’t-you-wish blue eyes of hers. The most beautiful and biggest blue, translucent eyes I had ever seen, I could only imagine getting lost in the depths of them as she lay underneath me.

  Motherfucking hell! I was a 36-year old board-certified cosmetic surgeon with a best friend who ran a BDSM club, of which I just happened to be a silent partner. Countless women gladly obliged my kinked-out needs, and plenty more were willing. That said, this one had me wanting to re-think my own demands. For the first time ever, I craved something different. I wanted to touch her face. Feel her lips against mine. Watch her laugh. Dominant and a cold-hearted bastard, these thoughts were pure nonsense for a man like me. I needed to quit making shit up in my mind that would never happen, and stop rationalizing with my dick. The very last thing I needed was a hankering to fall for a woman

  ****

  Three new consults and two breast augmentations later, I was finally done for the day. Back in my Preston Hollow home, I swirled the double shot of Glenlivet in the short glass and sat down in my favorite chair, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. I hadn’t even bothered to turn on a light, virtually sitting in a dark room as I had a drink and thought about my day and what the rest of the week involved. Bono, my Irish Setter, jumped in my lap, brushing his long tongue over my cheek. His tail wagged as he looked at me with the same sad look he gave me every day when I got home. Pleading with me to get off my ass and take him for his walk and feed him. Probably also wondering why the hell I was sitting in the dark.

  “Okay, buddy, let’s do this.” I flipped on a light and grabbed the leash.

  Life as a cosmetic surgeon had its list of advantages. Eight years of school and five years of residency, I was in a good place in my career. Men and women of all kinds, came to me on a daily basis with stars in their eyes. Hoping for a better rack. Seeking younger skin or thinner thighs. I’d met dozens of interesting people. Plenty of attractive women. Amusing how some actually got turned on when I touched them in such intimate spots, little did they know, I’d never even consider getting involved with a patient, no matter how attractive.

  Despite all the possibilities that came my way, I was actually a one-woman man, though I only stayed in a relationship for twelve weeks, or less, at any one time. A rule I made with myself years ago, any longer only became a complication and problematic.

  All bets were off after today. Fuck!

  I hadn’t heard from Becca since I ended our relationship. A sweet girl, she could eventually make somebody an excellent sub, but she’d become clingy and needy. I didn’t have time for that. I never planned on hurting the poor girl, but I wouldn’t have ever gotten involved with her in the first place had I known she was going to expect some kind of permanent loving relationship. She knew upfront I didn’t do that. Our agreement was only for a maximum of twelve weeks. Fine with the arrangement in the beginning, all the sudden when the weeks began to come to an end, she started with all the tears and drama, wanting a commitment. That dog and pony show had never worked for me in the past, and it wouldn’t now. That’s when I ended it.

  Today the day she was scheduled to meet with my buddy Rocco for her weekly massage, I picked up the phone and called to make sure she was okay. Pretty funny how quickly she’d adapted to all the benefits she reaped from being my submissive. They always did. The least I could do, I had no plans to take that away from Becca anytime soon. Dialing Rocco, I couldn’t stop wondering if she was close to Alexa and exactly how they were related. Very private, Becca never mentioned much at all about her family. Surely, she didn’t have a damn sister.

  “Tyler! Dude, is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine, man. Just calling to make sure Becca showed up for her massage this afternoon. She’s pretty upset with me and I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” The line was silent. All I could hear was deep breathing and what sounded like an “oh fuck.” If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he was getting his damn dick sucked.

  “Rocco! What’s up, man? Did I catch you at a bad time?” I held back laughter, taking a long slow drink and getting a mental picture of Rocco getting blown by one of his significant male others. The scotch burned as it slid down my throat, relaxing me just the way it was intended to.

  “Tyler, haven’t you heard? You don’t know about Becca?”

  “What the fuck, Rocco! What about Becca?” My buzz was suddenly non-existent.

  “Man, I don’t know how to break this to you, but Becca was found dead in her apartment two days ago. She overdosed on heroin.”

  I stood up, moving straight toward the expensive bottle of scotch and poured myself another drink.

  “What? Dead? Heroin? No fucking way! Becca didn’t do drugs. I could barely get her to drink a glass of wine.”

  “She left a note, man. Her roommate told me.”

  Thoughts of my name being mentioned in a suicide note hit me like a knife in the gut.

  “Rocco, what about the note? Did it have my name in it? Did it mention the club?”

  “I don’t know, Tyler. All I can tell you is I called her when she didn’t show for her appointment. She never misses her massage. After she didn’t answer, I called the apartment phone and Mickey told me what happened. She’d been out of town for a week and came home and found her.”

  “Jesus Christ! Where did she get heroin?”

  “I don’t know. I’m so sorry, man.”

  Chapter Five

  Alex

  The smell of coffee hovered through the air as I stirred, dropping my head back onto the pillow and stretching.

  The tap tap tap against the door assured me it was my mother. She’d always knocked that way.

  “I’m awake. Come on in, Mom.” The door eased open.

  “You up?”

  My mother walked in with a large steaming mug of coffee and I wrinkled my nose.

  “Don’t worry, silly. I used bottled water.” How did she read my mind that way? She always did have some kind of ESP or something. “I thought I better get you up. The funeral is in two hours. Honey, I hope you brought something warm to wear. It’s been raining for hours. It’s pretty cold outside for this time of year.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I brought a couple of different things. I’ll be fine. You look really nice by the way.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  Not a surprise my mom was already up and dressed, at fifty-five years old, she still looked amazing, but took forever to get ready. Wearing a long, slim, black skirt with black boots and a black and brown sweater, she looked anything but her age.

  “Mom, do you have just a sec?” With a pillow propped behind my neck, I tasted a small sip of the hot coffee. She’d mixed it up with hazelnut creamer and sugar, the only way I liked it.

  “Sure, honey. What’s up?” The soft mattress shifted as my mom sat down on the side of the bed and pushed my hair from my face. “It’s so nice to have you home. I wish it was for different circumstances.” With tear-filled eyes, she quickly dabbed around the edges with her perfectly manicured, short fingertips.

  “I hate that Adam couldn’t be here for the funeral.”

  “I know. I do, too, Mom.”

  “He said he was going to tr
y and call, but I don’t know if he’ll get to or not.” Her hand felt cold as she rested it on my leg. “What did you want to talk about, Alex?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked much lately. Just Becca, I guess.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t anybody have any idea at all who this man is that she was dating? I just don’t understand her, of all people, being involved in anything kinky. Or drugs. Not Becca.”

  My mom picked at her skirt. “Nobody seems to know a single thing. She didn’t even have this man’s name in her journal.”

  “So Mickey didn’t know Becca’s boyfriend’s name either? That seems strange.”

  “This is all strange, Alex. I think Mickey primarily lives with her boyfriend, so she’s not home much. Plus, Nancy says they didn’t get along very well.” My mom twirled her wedding ring around, a nervous habit she’d always had. “Johnny is having such a hard time dealing with all this. Becca was his baby girl. They were so close. I just can’t imagine what they’re going through.”

  “I know.” I finished off the last of my coffee, which was actually pretty good. “Had Nancy and Becca grown apart? It’s strange that she didn’t even tell her own mother this guy’s name. I get not telling her about going to a sex club, but not even saying is name doesn’t seem right.”

  My mother shuddered. “Thoughts of you in a sex club give me the heebie jeebies, Alex.”

  I grinned. “Not much chance in that, Mom. I don’t even get time to date anymore.”

  “Well, once these detectives start digging around in these clubs, they’ll find this guy, Alex. Now you better get started, Pokey. You’re awfully slow in the mornings.” Right on track about my slow nature, calling me Pokey had been an ongoing joke between the two of us since I could remember. Definitely a creeper in the morning, my mother was worse than me.

  “It’s a family thing, isn’t it, Mom?” With a smile, she mumbled something quietly under her breath. It was common knowledge she had me beat by a mile about being slow.