I’ve always known he was mean and abusive, but I had no idea how deep his psychotic behavior ran. He calls non-stop. He leaves voicemails and texts when I don’t answer. He flooded my email and social media to the point that I had to shut it all down. I ended up having to get a new number and new accounts for everything. That included the bank accounts. He wasn’t happy about that, not even the fact that I wasn’t a total bitch and left him more than enough to live comfortably off of. And just when I thought he couldn’t do anything else to get to me, he proved me wrong by deleting my blog, Bailey’s Buttons, and changing the password so I couldn’t reestablish it. He still manages to kick me when I’m down. Like now. How did he even get my new number?
My phone vibrates again, bringing me back to the present. He wants me to know that accidents happen all the time. I shut the phone off and call Nico from his landline. He answers on the second ring, but doesn’t say anything.
“Nico?”
“Oh, it’s you! Don’t try to cook anything. I’ll stop and get some Chinese.”
I roll my eyes and try to ignore the dig. I screwed up one meal. One meal out of everything I’ve ever cooked for them and I’m still hearing about it. Who knew salt-crusted fish would actually be challenging?
“Hilarious,” I say. “Did you come up with that one on your own?” So much for ignoring the dig. He chuckles softly and the sound shoots straight to my core.
“It actually took me a while. I’m very proud of myself.”
If cupcakes and unbelievable sex had a sound it would be Nico’s voice. Shit, wait. Unbelievable sex does have a sound. Cupcakes and caramel? Caramel covered bacon cupcakes, boom. That’d be his voice. Deep, gravelly, and altogether decadent. “Stick to MMA,” I say. This time he laughs. Carnal delight.
“Where are you calling me from? This isn’t your number.”
“The phone in your house. I wanted to let you know I had to turn mine off.”
“Why does my house phone have a 912 area code?”
“It’s your phone, Nico. How would I know?”
“Shouldn’t it be a local number or something? You don’t think that’s weird?”
What’s weird is him not knowing his own number and expecting me to have an answer for this. Seriously, why are we having this conversation? “Um, yes?”
“Change your number again. Wasn’t it supposed to be unlisted?”
I guess we’re changing the subject. “I thought so, but maybe not. I’ll call them again.”
“I’m supposed to fuss at you for missing training so close to a fight. Mark is very upset. He said UFC scouts will be there to check you out and he still needs to work out some kinks from your injury since neither of you will listen to me about you not fighting.”
This is a sore subject for him. He always refers to it as my injury and even though I’ll have been out of my cast and cleared by the doctor for three weeks by the time I have to fight, he wants us to delay it.
“UFC scouts? He knows I don’t plan to fight with them, right? You know I never intended to be a fighter for them, right?”
“Eh, shit happens. Roll with it since you insist on fighting.”
“Nico, that’s not how life works. At least, not for normal people.”
“I’m stopping at the restaurant now, be there in about 20 minutes.”
And he’s gone. He’s the only person I know who never says anything to end a phone call. He just hangs up and it drives me crazy. I go back to the cupcakes I’m making and contemplate calling Petra to see what she’s up to. Probably breast milk and poopy diapers. Kaelen giggles at something on his iPad and the sound pulls a smile from me. I can’t lose him. As I wipe my hands, intent on going to see what he’s laughing at, the doorbell rings.
“Stay put, munchkin. Mommy’s going to see who’s at the door.” He nods his head without looking up. What if I hadn’t been looking at him?
Looking through the peephole reveals the warped image of a woman. Nico didn’t say anyone was coming over, but I crack the door open anyway. She’s absolutely spectacular. Long brown hair with multiple shades of blonde highlighted throughout. Flawless makeup. A white sleeveless blouse that bares her midriff and red skinny jeans. She’s looks like the perfect creation of a woman and for some reason, I find myself jealous without even knowing why. Then again, I do know. Deep down I know this is her. This is Janae. Her light brown eyes stare curiously at me as she finally asks who I am. I can’t answer her. Her hair, her eyes, her entire being, takes me back to a distant memory. A memory from a night long ago, when the tone of my adult life was set. She looks exactly like a girl I once met, Harmony.
Then
HARMONY WORE HER hair dark brown, with several different shades of brown highlighted throughout, and long. It stopped just shy of her waistline and draped beautifully over ample breasts, which I seriously considered paying money to replicate. Her waist tapered in, only to flare out into her hips, and the outfit she wore that accentuated it all. Her skin was a rich caramel color and she had eyes the lightest shade of brown. I’d met her that night, because I was, unknowingly, on a date with her boyfriend. My birthday was in two days and he wanted to celebrate early.
Early on, Connor’s father had made it very clear that in less than three years I’d marry Connor, who would eventually take over the family business, and on my wedding night I was to still be a virgin. For reasons unknown to me, my dad had agreed. With that edict in place none of the guys I knew would ever come near me. Even Connor kept his distance and I was supposed to be his. That made me believe that it was more because of me as a person instead of what was known by everyone. I mean, come on. If anyone would have been okay approaching me, it should have been Connor, right? But he never did. Since he never did, although he seemed to have no problem dating and sleeping with other girls (even the ones who had deemed themselves my closest friends), boy did I develop a complex of out of this world proportions. Something obviously had to be wrong with me and in my head that something was the way I looked. So, of course, when Sky approached me—no one ever approached me—those same so called friends had wholeheartedly encouraged me to go out with him. One, in particular, Jessica, literally pushed me into Sky’s arms and over the following two weeks she set up dates and sent him cute little messages from my phone. Later, as in later that same night, I found out that she was sleeping with Connor and wanted to ease her guilt. Bitch.
When Harmony found me with Sky, she insisted they take me home. I couldn’t go home, so I had them drop me off at Connor’s place. He may not have ever approached me, but if I approached him, he was nice, sometimes. And at 23-years-old, he already had his own place and transportation.
That night was not one of those times. His car was there and I could hear muffled sounds from inside, so I knew he wasn’t asleep. Yet it took me ringing the doorbell five separate times for him to answer. When he finally opened the door, my breath caught in my throat.
Connor was a sight to behold with his clothes on. He wore only a pair of athletic shorts, slung low on his hips, but he was downright breathtaking. Tattoos covered both of his arms and his long red hair was pulled up in a bun. He had fierce green eyes that never failed to pull me in and tonight was no different. Half naked, man bun, muscles and tats . . . it was pretty obvious why I was okay with being betrothed to him like some damsel from another century. It took me a moment to realize those green eyes that I lived for were glaring and the furrow in his brow wasn’t confusion at seeing me. If that weren’t enough of an indication, his words were.
“What the fuck are ya doing here, Bailey?”
His Scottish brogue was out in full force. A nifty little alarm to gauge his anger since that was when it usually came out. I faltered. I’d never had that brogue directed at me and found that it was downright frightening. It meant his temper was flared and no one was safe from his mean streak. I dropped my gaze to his feet and tried to gather my thoughts, but I was blank.
“Ya need ta go home. I doona have time
for this shit. It’s late. Ya should be in the fucking bed sleeping, not here bothering me.”
The more he spoke, the more my thoughts scattered. For the life of me I couldn’t say that I just needed a ride home. What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t formulate the words and I definitely couldn’t send the signal from my brain to my mouth to speak them.
“Go home, Bailey.”
The door slamming shut brought me out of my stupor. I won’t even mention the pang in my chest, suspiciously close to where my heart was. “I’m sorry, Connor. I wasn’t trying to bother you. I just needed a ride home,” I called out as I rapped my knuckles lightly against the door. I held my breath and waited for a response. Thankfully, he opened the door a few seconds later.
“I’m busy, so if ya need a ride ya have ta wait.”
I was already nodding my head vigorously in agreement before he’d finished his statement.
“Right there on the porch. Ya canna come in.”
My head jerked to a stop and I looked behind him trying to figure out what was so important. I saw nothing obvious and didn’t hear anything either. I glanced at the chairs on the porch and then at the foot of snow on the ground. It was the end of December, the heart of winter in Texas, and we’d had a freak snowstorm. I met his gaze and saw how serious he was, but before I could say anything I heard another voice. A voice that was very familiar, since it had just pushed me to go out with Sky.
“Who is it, babe? What’s taking so long?” Jessica asked.
She wore the navy robe I had just given him for Christmas and the size of it on her would have been comical if it weren’t obvious that it was all she wore. She didn’t notice me at first – can’t say that I blame her on that front since Connor was still standing there in all his Scottish glory – but when she did the smile on her face vanished and she said my name as though she couldn’t believe I was standing there. Connor gently grabbed her chin and turned her gaze back to him before giving her a grin that under any other circumstance would have driven me mad with lust. My hand drifted to that aching spot on my chest and I rubbed it without thought. I knew I was wrong for being with Skye, but Jess is supposed to be my friend. My only friend. I was only with Skye because she pushed me to do it.
“Go back and wait for me, lass. I’ll be there soon.”
She nodded and hurriedly disappeared from my sight. Connor met my gaze and said . . . absolutely nothing. Once again, I blurted out the most insane thought I could. “Maybe I could get a blanket or one of your coats while I wait? It’s pretty cold tonight and I’m sure that’ll keep me warm until you’re done?” My voice cracked on the last part and something like regret flashed in Connor’s eyes. I wanted to be stronger. I wished I was more capable than doing something as asinine as begging for warmth in the face of infidelity. I wanted to let loose my inner bitch, but the truth is she’d been silenced by years of being ignored by Connor and overlooked by so many guys. I honestly didn’t know how else to react. I just knew it hurt. By the time, I’d furiously blinked away the tears that had formed whatever I’d seen in his eyes was gone. He stepped away briefly then passed me a thick coat. Another gift I had just given him for Christmas. What the fuck did he even get me for Christmas? I forced a smile before wrapping the coat around me and perching on the edge of one of the snow-covered chairs. The coat smelled faintly of him and it was warm, but it had the heavy scent of Jessica’s perfume. It was as though she’d snuggled into him for his warmth or maybe he’d draped it over her to keep her warm. Whatever I’d done to deserve this, Jesus was I sorry. I’d do whatever needed to be done to make amends because this was almost unbearable. Connor was still standing there, watching me. I passed the coat back to him, but he didn’t take it. There wasn’t enough blinking in the universe to stop the tears, but I couldn’t let him see them and he still didn’t take the coat, so I let it drop and turned to face the chair I’d just vacated. “I should have called first instead of just popping up on you like this.” Whenever he got around to checking his phone he’d see that I’d actually called three times. “I’ll get a ride from someone else. Or I can just call a taxi. That would have been the smart thing to do anyway. I can be so silly sometimes, right? If I’d just take a minute to think things through instead of being so impulsive, I’d figure a lot out a lot quicker. The only time I really focus like that is when I’m writing, but it’s so much easier to just get lost in those fantasies. Or baking! Baking is even better. And, shit, I’m rambling. I’ll just go now.” I forced a chuckle at the end of that. When he didn’t respond, I stepped off the porch and tossed a hasty goodnight over my shoulder. A block away from his house I stumbled and barely caught myself. It took me a while to figure out there was no ice for me to slip on. I realized that the pain in my chest had gotten worse and had nearly brought me to my knees. I deserve better than this, right?
My house is exactly 6.9 miles from Connor’s and according to Google Maps it would take me 2 hours and 14 minutes to walk there. Fuck. One hand on my phone ready to hit send and dial 911, the other on the can of mace in my pocket, I pushed through and began my trek. Tired, all cried out, nearly frozen, teeth chattering, and two miles away from my house I hear a car accelerate then slow behind me. I knew it was too much to hope for this night to get any better. I walk faster and manage to grip the pepper spray tighter even though my fingers protest the movement. I grit my teeth and keep moving. My brain is apparently frozen as well because even though I hear him calling my name, it doesn’t register that it’s Connor and when he grabs me from behind I scream bloody murder. Even as he’s telling me it’s him and trying to calm me down, I keep screaming and failing miserably at trying to get away. Apparently, those tatted muscles aren’t just for show. The voice that actually breaks through my delirium is one that I never wanted to hear again. Jessica holds my face between her hands—her warm as a furnace hands—and tells me to calm down because it’s just her and Connor. My screaming stops, but the chattering teeth start back up.
“Jesus Connor, she’s fucking frozen!” Jessica shrieks.
Connor’s voice is a mixture of concern and anger. “She told me she was going ta call a taxi, not walk home!”
“But why would you even let her leave? You didn’t even make sure she actually called one!”
“Doona get all high and mighty, lass. Ya werna so concerned about her before,” he says before roughly shoving her away from me, then cradling me against his chest. He’s never touched me or held me like this before. Never. The experience is bittersweet though. I never want him to touch me again.
“Because you said she was fine!” Jessica yells from the spot where she’d fallen flat on her ass and was struggling to get up.
I’d already been wondering why he thought it was okay to bring her with him when he was obviously going to my house, but their argument brought out a whole barrage of other questions. None of which I wanted to explore at the moment. Connor mumbled something about hypothermia, frostbite, and the hospital before draping a coat around me. The same coat that smelled like Jessica’s perfume. Somehow that made me realize my inner botch wasn’t completely dead. Buried deep? Yes. Not dead though. I would rather be alone. I’m better than this. I realized that while they’d been arguing, his body heat had warmed me just enough for me to remember my grip on the pepper spray. I shrugged the coat off me and pushed away from him. Although it took some work, I steadied myself before facing him. “I don’t deserve this, Connor. I’ll never marry you.” I cursed my frozen body and chattering teeth for making the statement a shit ton weaker than I intended, but Connor’s look told me he got it.
“Ya doona mean that, Bailey. We’re destined ta be tagether. I’m a man and these lasses like Jess are just something I have ta get out of ma system before we settle down and then it’s just us. I swear it ta ya, lass.”
So, she’s Jess, huh? She has a nickname and I’m still just Bailey. Good old Bailey who doesn’t know what she means. What a crock of bat shit. He moves to take a step in m
y direction and opens his mouth to spew more BS and I let the pepper spray show him how serious I am. “I. Will. Not. Marry. You. Ever!” While he screamed and tried to cover his face I turned to get in his car only to remember Jessica was still there. Against my better judgment, I asked one of the questions that had been burning in my mind. “Why did you come here with him, to my house?” She stared at me wide-eyed and in shock before pulling herself together enough to answer.
“I didn’t . . . I told him to take me home. We were going to my house, not yours.”
That pain in my chest that I thought had gone away hit me like physical blow. Barely swallowing back a sob, I realized that she lived a street away from me. Go ahead Universe, just keep ‘em coming. Connor hadn’t come to look for me and make sure I got home okay. He hadn’t been worried about me making it home. He’d come across me completely by accident while taking his latest conquest home. I had to steady myself against his car because my heart had officially been decimated and I wasn’t strong enough to hold myself upright against the anguish. I turn back to his car only to reailze how much I truly want no part of him. I’d rather face the cold. Slow and very unsteady, I stumbled my way home. By the time I’d showered some warmth back into my body and layered in two sets of fleece pajamas the house was a flurry of activity. I could hear my dad’s voice along with Connor’s and several other men. I should have called my dad and told him I was stranded, but I wasn’t supposed to be out in the first place.
It was times like this that I longed for my mom to be alive. God, I missed her. She would have never let my dad arrange a marriage for me. She would have never allowed any of this. He said his was to benefit me by welcoming me into Connor’s family on his mom’s side. I saw no true benefit and he never deemed to give me any other reasoning no matter how much I asked. Does he really think so little of me that I can’t even take care of myself without a man? Does he really feel like I’ll crumble and fold on my own? That I couldn’t make it without him or someone else to take care of me? I’d slowly made my way back downstairs where Connor was demanding to see me. My dad seemed to be two steps away from hurting him. The others were acting as barriers as well as my dad’s lapdogs, waiting for him to give a signal on what to do about Connor. There were also paramedics and cops. The paramedics were trying to get Connor to get into the ambulance – his eyes and face were swollen and redder than his hair— fuck yeah, pepper spray—and the cops stood by saying and doing nothing.
Heart of a Savage Page 10