by Jacob Chance
The thought of him touching any part of my body makes me want to vomit. “Scott, I haven’t seen you in five years. What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”
“Oh Elle. How quickly you’ve forgotten how it used to be with us. Those were the good old days.”
“I don’t remember anything positive about them. I’m happy with the way my life is now.”
He opens his mouth to reply, but the hostess interrupts, leading us to our table. My head pounds with a migraine as I follow behind her. I don’t want to be here. Imagining Josh’s arms around me helps to calm me and by the time we’re seated at our table, I feel as though I’ve regained some footing.
Spreading my napkin in my lap, I watch as the waitress pours us each a glass of ice water.
Scott orders without asking me what I’d like which isn’t surprising. He’s a control freak about everything and since I didn’t come here with the intent to enjoy dinner with him - what does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to be able to swallow a single bite, anyhow. Being in his company is hard enough to stomach.
“How long have you and tattoo boy been together?” he asks, once the waitress has gone.
“Tattoo boy?” I roll my eyes. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“I’m trying to be polite and have a simple conversation. What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re right. I’m a horrible person,” I say, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Can you please tell me whatever it is you lured me here for?”
“Sure, I didn’t want to ruin your dinner, but if you insist.” His lips move into a smirk and I envision myself slapping it right off his face. How I wish I could, but he’d only make me pay for it later. The memories of his heavy hand have dulled, but they’ll never completely disappear.
“I have it on good authority that your boyfriend is laundering money for the Bastards.”
“No way.” I shake my head and snort. “No fucking way.”
“Yes, fucking way. I have someone who’s willing to go to the police and report him. I also have evidence,” he says making air quotes.
“Scott, you can’t fabricate evidence and expect it to stick.” I want to leap over the table and strangle him. Josh would never do anything illegal. I’m positive about this without a single doubt.
“It doesn’t have to stick to do irreparable damage to his reputation. I wonder what the New England Art Association would think about one of their entrants being involved in money laundering.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I am what I am.” He smiles then winks as he shifts his weight, placing his arms on the table. “When I want something, I go after it.”
“What do you want from me?” I question, leaning back in my chair. I want as much distance between the two of us a possible. Merely smelling his cologne is making me sick. It’s the same one he wore when we were together. It conjures up painful memories of a time in my life I’d prefer to forget.
“You, my dearest will be the dutiful girlfriend you never learned to be. You’re going to do as I say with a smile on your gorgeous face the whole goddamn time. Your main duty will be to please me in any way you can.”
“Why do you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
“Oh no, you won’t be pretending. You are mine as of right now. Unless you want to go our separate ways and see how that works out for your artist.”
“Why would you even want me, Scott? We were horrible together.”
“No, you were a brat who wanted her way all the time.” His eyes flash anger and my chest tightens with anxiety. Seeing the crazed look in his gaze brings back all the fear I experienced at his hands.
“Fine, I’ll do what I have to, but you better stay away from Josh or the deal’s off.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll leave your little boy toy alone, as long as you stay away from him.”
“I have to break up with him. I’m not going to stop talking to him and ignore his calls. He deserves an explanation.”
“You better come up with a convincing reason, baby. If he finds out what we’ve discussed tonight then you can kiss his reputation goodbye.”
“You’re such a bastard.”
He shrugs, looking smug. “Elle, there’s always a winner and a loser in every situation. You should know by now which one I am.”
My stomach is so nauseous I can barely drive home. After the bombshell Scott dropped on me, all I want to do is climb in my bed and pretend this night has been a nightmare. This can’t be my life. Of course when everything's going well he had to step in and fuck it all up. I knew it was too good to be true.
Wiping the moisture from my forehead before it can drip down into my eyes, I focus on the road in front of me. Every inch of my body is trembling. Being in Scott’s company was more difficult than I let on.
When I finally escaped inside my car, I collapsed, sobbing with my head on the steering wheel. Thankfully, he didn’t put up a fight that I disobeyed and drove my car. There was no way I was letting him that close to me tonight. Or any other night if I can help it.
But how can I help it?
That’s the million-dollar question.
How do I get Josh out of the mess he’s going to be in because of me?
If I don’t do as Scott says, he’ll follow through with his threats. Maybe I can stall for a few days and give myself time to come up with a plan.
In the meantime, I need to distance myself from Josh; which will be no small feat. He’s imperative to my happiness and a single day without him will be too much, never mind an indefinite amount of time. But loving someone means putting them first, and Josh deserves no less. He would do the same for me. He may not realize why I’m stepping back from our relationship, but I will. Maybe it can be a small consolation for all that I’m sacrificing. For the first time in my life, I’m ready to put someone else’s needs above my own. It’s too bad Josh will never know.
Once I’m home, I barely make it inside my bathroom before I’m bent over heaving into the toilet. Both hands on the cool porcelain toilet bowl while I brace myself for the next wave of nausea to hit.
I never imagined I’d have to deal with Scott Granger again. He nearly ruined me the first time around and now five years later, I’m no better prepared. Is there a way to prepare to date an abusive, vengeful psychopath? If there is, I’d like to know because that’s my future and it’s looking pretty fucking dismal.
Three Years Ago
“Can’t we stay here tonight or go to your apartment? I don’t want to go to a party,” I say, with a sexy pout on my lips.
“We’re going to the party, Elle.”
“But I don’t want to go to a frat party, Scott. Why don’t you go alone and then come back here later?”
His fingers close tightly around my upper arm, digging into the flesh. “I said we’re going and we’re fucking going.” His pupils dilate with anger as he stares down at me.
“You’re hurting me, Scott,” I cry, tugging my arm to free it from his hold. It doesn’t work and only angers him more.
“Are you trying to get away from me, Elle? Is that what you want?” Gripping my other arm, he holds firmly to both. He shakes me back and forth like a rag doll, an unhinged expression on his face. “Is there someone else?”
“No,” I sob. “I love you.”
“There better not be. If I find out you’re lying to me, there will be hell to pay.”
“I’m not lying,” I shout.
His hand meets my cheek with the sharp crack of a slap. My head spins to the side from the force, my hand slipping between us to cover my stinging skin. My eyes fill with tears. I can’t believe he hit me. Instantly, I sob. I’m so hurt and confused by his actions. Why? What did I do that was so bad?
He gentles his hold and slides his hands up and down my arms. “I’m sorry, Elle. If you’d do as I said, this never would have happened. Is it too much to ask that we go to one party?”
I shake my head and av
oid looking at him.
He lifts my chin with an index finger. “Look at me,” he orders and I do as he says. “Go fix your makeup and hair. You’re a fucking mess. I don’t want to be seen with you right now.” He raises his hand, gesturing at my overall appearance and I flinch in reaction. I’m afraid of this new version of my boyfriend. I’m seeing him like this more often lately and I don’t know what to do to make things the way they used to be. What am I doing wrong?
23
Josh
My phone buzzes with an incoming text when I’m between clients. Swiping the screen, I notice it’s Elle.
Elle: I won’t be able to make it tonight. Bad migraine. Going to bed. Talk tomorrow.
Frowning as I reread the words, I type out a reply.
Me: I’m sorry to hear this. I’ll miss you. Get some rest and know I’ll be thinking of you.
Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I rake my teeth over my lip. This isn’t like Elle. Normally, she would call me - even if it was to say a quick goodnight. Texting is so impersonal; we prefer to hear each other’s voices.
I’m not sure what’s up with her, but I can give her the space she obviously needs. This will give me an opportunity to work on my paintings for the art competition. I’ve been using what little spare time I have to finish them, but there’s still quite a bit to do. Maybe if I pull an all-nighter, I can knock out most of it.
Elle has been radio silent all day. My texts and calls have gone unanswered. It’s obvious something’s wrong and it’s typical of Elle not to burden me or anyone else with her problems.
By the time the studio closes, I’m chomping at the bit to get over to her place and find out what the fuck is going on.
My fist pounds on the door. I’m frustrated she’s pulling away and worried she’s not going to let me drag her back in. Again, my knuckles knock against the steel. “Elle,” I call her name so she’ll know it’s me.
The door slowly opens and a disheveled version of Elle appears in the space. She squints and blinks indicating she’s just waking up. Her eyes are red and puffy as if she’s been crying.
“Are you okay?” She’s a mess - a hauntingly beautiful mess.
Pushing her hair back from her face, she rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms. “Yeah, I was asleep. Do you want to come in?” She steps back, allowing me to pass, before closing the door. “Have a seat. Do you want something to drink? Water? Beer?”
“No,” I say, catching her hand in mine. Pulling her over to the couch, I tug her down beside me. “What’s going on with you?” I question, turning to face her. Trailing my fingertips down her cheek, I study her face. She’s definitely been crying. I can always tell with her. The redness along her lower lids is a dead giveaway most people might not notice. Small details can turn an average piece of art into something special. Once I learned to see things with an artistic bent, I couldn’t turn it off. I began to notice things I never had before and now I see more than I should or want to.
“Elle, talk to me,” I coax.
Her eyes lower to her lap where her hands fidget, clasping and unclasping. Her chest fills with a deep breath as she inhales. When she exhales her gaze sweeps in my direction. There’s so much turmoil shining in her warm golden eyes. Whatever’s on her mind, I want to take it all away.
“Elle,” I prod.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispers, staring down at her clasped hands.
“Can’t do what?” I question.
“Us.”
Fuck. My heart pitches. I swear it stops and then begins again, erratically beating inside my chest. “What do you mean?” I question, numbly, raking a hand through my hair.
“I can’t be with you anymore.” Her voice cracks.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I raise my voice. “After all we’ve been through, you’re going to back out now?” I shake my head with disgust.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Save it.” I gesture, swiping my fingers across my neck. “Save it for the next sucker who falls for you.”
“Josh, I’m sorry.” Her eyes fill with tears.
I steel myself. I shouldn’t feel sorry for her no matter how much the sight of her crying upsets me. This is her choice. No one’s holding a gun to her head. “Is that all you have to say?” My eyebrows draw together in a scowl.
“I don’t know what to say. I care about you so much, but…” She sniffs, wiping the tears from under her eyes.
“But what?” I throw my hands up in the air. “You either care or you don’t. There’s no but in that equation.”
“I’m not the right person for you.”
“Here we fucking go again. I’ve heard this excuse before. Although it’s a good one; it’s not valid in this case. We’re perfect for each other so don’t spout off some unfounded bullshit to me. I’m not buying it.” Gripping my hair with both hands, I tug on the short strands. This conversation has reached an all-time high level of disappointment. “I’m not sure what’s got you running scared, but I’m going to figure it out. And when I do, I’m coming for you, Elle. I hope you’re ready.”
24
Elle
Tugging the top of my green strapless dress up, my eyes search the crowd for any sign of Scott. I haven’t seen him since the night we went to dinner. He’s called me a few times. I didn’t answer the first time and he immediately sent me a text ordering me to answer. I didn’t dare push my luck for fear he’d follow through with his threats against Josh. When I forced myself to answer the second call, he informed me I’d be his plus one for this charity auction. I wish Josh was here, instead. We’d have fun checking out the items being auctioned and I’m sure he would even bid on one or two of them.
We haven’t spoken in a week now and I miss him more than I thought possible. My heart aches to hear his voice or feel his strong arms around me. I want him to pull me into an embrace and promise me everything’s going to be fine...but it’s not. I realize no matter how much I long for him, he can’t save me from the current mess I’m in. I’m hopelessly in love with Josh Dawson and I’m sure I always will be. Time apart won’t diminish my feelings. I only wish I’d told him before Scott sent our relationship off the rails. Now he’ll never know how I feel.
“Hey, baby. Don’t you look nice,” Scott says, coming up beside me. His eyes roam over me from head to toe. “I’ll be with the most beautiful girl in the room.”
“Thank you.” When he says things like this, it’s easy for me to realize how he sucked me in all those years ago. He’s charming, handsome, wealthy and a couple years older than me. All the qualities every woman would find to be attractive in a man.
Scott kept up the charade of being a good guy until we’d been together for a few months. Once my virginity was gone, he became a different person. He’s the reason why I’ve never had another relationship until Josh. If men change after a few months, then why keep them around for more than a fun time? I imagined after three months of Scott telling me he loved me and treating me like a queen, things would always be that way. I couldn’t have been more wrong. His personality changed almost overnight and he became someone I didn’t recognize or want to be with.
Our relationship taught me to keep my distance and not to let my heart become involved. Fucking was fine, but I had to construct an emotional barrier so no one would ever be able to hurt me again. And I’d succeeded beautifully until Josh and I shared our first kiss in Las Vegas. It’s hard to believe that was nine months ago. I can still feel the heat of his lips on mine and the way he tugged my head back controlling the kiss. It was incredibly hot. Every moment Josh and I spent together since is special. I wouldn’t trade any of them. Especially now, when my memories are all I have.
“Did you take care of tattoo boy or do I need to?”
There he is.
I knew his bastard side wouldn’t take long to show. “We broke up a week ago.”
“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but we both know that’d be a lie.
”
“I don’t want you to say anything about Josh. I’d prefer you never speak his name again.”
“Well, don’t give me a reason to. The ball is in your court, Elle. What happens next is up to you.”
He says this, but he’s the most unpredictable man I’ve ever met. He can turn on a dime. I never know which personality I’ll be dealing with.
“How do you figure?”
“Do what you’re supposed to and Josh will never have to deal with the ramifications.”
“What does that even mean? Talk about vague.”
“It means you do whatever the fuck I say.”
Biting my tongue, I hold in the retort that wants to escape. “Gotcha.”
Two hours later and all I want is to already be home as far away from Scott as possible, but instead I’m trapped on the dance floor - in his arms.
His large hands roam over the length of my back, before moving down to cup my ass.
“Scott, please move your hands.”
He chuckles. “I like where they are just fine.”
“I don’t. Get them off my ass, now.”
His smile fades from his lips, transforming into an angry scowl. “Don’t tell me what to do, Elle. I’m the one who gives the orders, not you.”
“I don’t want your hands all over me. I might have to pretend to date you, but that doesn’t mean you get to touch me anytime you want.”
“There’s no pretending about this. We’re together and it’s a fact whether you want to admit it or not.”
“Just because you say so doesn’t make it true. I’m only with you to save Josh’s reputation. You can pretend it’s because I can’t live without you, or whatever the hell you want to tell yourself. Either way I don’t want your hands on me.”
“What are you going to do, tell your daddy? I’m pretty sure he’d side with me. I’m the son he always wanted and never had.”