Beautiful and Broken

by Sara Hubbard

  "So tell me more about this guy you have to fight?"

  He swallows his bite and licks his lips. "Not much to tell. I beat this guy and I have a shot at the title."

  "He's good?"

  Sawyer chuckles. "At this level, you have to be. Almost all his fights end with a knockout."

  I sigh. The thought of Sawyer hurt squeezes at my chest.

  He knocks elbows with me. "Don't worry. He's good, but I'm better. I'm not just training—I'm studying him. I've got all of his fights on my laptop and I watch them over and over. I'll know what he's going to do before he thinks about doing it."

  I force a smile. "Good."

  He leans over and gives me a lingering kiss, rubbing my cheek with his thumb and staring straight into my eyes before pulling away.

  "Sawyer, I need to ask you something."

  He takes a bite of his wrap and sets it down. His body sits up a little straighter, like he's expecting not to like this.

  "I want you to come to Thanksgiving with me."

  His eyebrows lift so high I wonder if they'll disappear into his hairline.

  "I know it's a lot to ask. But I'm only asking you because Jason's family and mine are close, and they'll all be there…and my sister. And my mother will try and push Jason and I together. They want my father to keep his business in the family, and Jason works with them and—”

  "Jesus, take a breath, Molly."

  I take a long, deep breath.

  He slides over a little closer, his arm stretching around me to sit on the back of my chair.

  "I need moral support, and my mother will leave me alone if I come with a date. So…will you be my date?"

  "Dinner with your parents?"

  "I know. It’s asking a lot."

  He sighs and slides his hands through his short hair. His face is pained, like I've just asked him to walk over hot coals and jump into a volcano.

  "Never mind. It's okay. It's just..."

  He narrows his eyes. "You want me to come?"

  I nod, giving him the widest, sad eyes I can manage without coming off totally creepy.

  "Then I'll be there."

  I smile and wrap my arms around his neck. I lean back and press a quick kiss on his lips. His hand wraps around the back of my head and pulls me closer. The kiss is so deep I forget to breathe, and my whole body tingles right down to my toes. This is so much better than friends.

  "Kiss me like that again and I'll say yes to just about anything."

  I smile as I pull away from him. "I'll have to remember that."

  ***

  Sawyer comes to my door to pick me up on Thanksgiving. Amy answers, and when I reach the foyer there is a tense silence between them.

  "Okay…what did I miss?" I ask.

  "Nothing, come on. Let's get going."

  "Bye, Amy. I'll see you later tonight."

  Sawyer looks yummy. He's wearing a polo shirt and khakis that fit his ass so perfectly I make a point of walking a little bit behind him as we head to the car just so I can stare at it. When he catches me, my cheeks burn so hard I swear they'll catch fire.

  "So are you going to tell me what that was about?" I ask him as we get into the car.

  "Nothing. Amy's just looking out for you. And warning me about your mother."

  I laugh. "Amy and I have been friends since we were kids and there's always been this kind of animosity between them. My mother actually forbade me from hanging out with her when I was sixteen."

  "What did you do?"

  "What she told me to…sort of. I still hung out with her at school but I couldn't do much about it after school."

  "So what changed? You live with her now."

  "I didn't know this at the time, but Amy had something on my mother and she blackmailed her. All of a sudden my mother let me hang out with her again. Amy and my mother never mentioned it. In fact, Amy only told me about it a few years ago when she was sure I'd never go back to live with my parents."

  "Okay," Sawyer glances over at me, smirking. "The curiosity it killing me."

  "We all have our secrets," I say, thinking about Sawyer's.

  "Yeah. We do."

  Suddenly, I regret my comment. Sawyer has immediately changed from playful to closed off. I should know now not to push him, and yet it wounds me that he still isn't willing to share his secrets. I worry he might never want to.

  "Amy and I were going through my mother's closet, playing dress-up and stuff and we found a box of old pictures. Amy went through them and I kept trying on dresses. We were maybe ten years old. Even then Amy and my mother were tense around each other. Amy found a picture of my mother kissing another woman."

  Sawyer's head mechanically spins to face me.

  "I know. It was from the seventies. But my mother did not want any of the women she socializes with to find out. Amy threatened to make fliers and post them on every telephone pole in town."

  "Wow. Remind me not to piss Amy off."

  "Really, though."

  "How did you react when Amy told you?"

  "I was upset, of course. But with Amy, I just kind of shake my head. I love her. She's family to me."

  Sawyer reaches out and rubs my cheek, and I lean into it, closing my eyes. With him beside me, tonight will be fine. I just know it will.

  ***

  We pull up in front of my parent's home in the suburbs. It looks the same as usual, pristine white with red shutters and a professionally groomed yard. It’s a two story affair with four pillars along the front and a terrace that covers the front of the second floor. Every bedroom has access to it, except for mine. Mine borders the rear so I don’t have a balcony, but I do have a great view of the lake.

  My mother walks out front and her face is like stone. She doesn't smile when she sees us, and she can't take her eyes off of Sawyer. He can handle this, I tell myself, though I'm beginning to worry that this might be the end of us if he spends any amount of time with my mother.

  "Hi Mom," I say as I meander toward her.

  She buries her face into my neck. "What is he doing here, Molly? How dare you bring a criminal into my home?" She leans away and takes my hand. Her smile is ear-to-ear, practiced and fake. She sure can play the game. "Well, I wish I'd known you were bringing a guest. I'll have to set another place at the table."

  "Thanks, Mom. I hope it's not too much trouble."

  Mom's eyes dart over to Sawyer and she drops my hands. "Sawyer, is it?"

  "That's right. We met at the charity auction."

  "How could I forget?" She slides her hands into her pockets and takes a breath. "Well. Let’s get inside so we can introduce Sawyer to everyone."

  I follow after her, like I'm taking one step closer to my doom. This night is going to be awful. All three of us know it. I only wish that it wasn't necessary to come here. But how do you turn your back on family? You really can't.

  Seventeen

  RODNEY JUMPS UP on me and gives me kisses when I get inside. Sawyer is beaming at us.

  “Sawyer, this is Rodney, the best dog in the whole world.”

  “Hey, fella.” Sawyer scratches under his chin and Rodney wags his tail wildly.

  “He likes you,” I say, rubbing at Sawyer’s back.

  “Of course he does,” Sawyer teases.

  Mom ushers us into the living room, completely ignoring the dog when he tries to lick her hand. She wipes it on her skirt. “Filthy thing.”

  I recognized Jason’s BMW outside when we arrived, and his father's Mercedes, so it doesn't surprise me when I find them inside. Mia is here too. Her car must be parked out back.

  I glance back and forth between Mia and Jason and the pain I felt weeks ago returns—not because I want Jason back, but because they betrayed me. Especially Mia. She's family. I can kick Jason out of my life, mostly, but not Mia. And I don't know if I really want to.

  Jason has called me nonstop since I ditched him at the restaurant. I haven't answered his calls and Amy's been covering for me when he comes to the apar
tment. Now I have to face him, and I'm sure at some point he's going to corner me and get whatever he wants to say off his chest. Because his needs matter more than mine. They always have.

  Perhaps sensing how uncomfortable I am, Sawyer takes my hands, his thumb slowly drawing circles on my skin. It gently tugs me over close to his side. "Say the word," he whispers, "and we're out of here."

  I smile and squeeze his hand. "I got this."

  All eyes in the room are glued to our interlocked hands. I might as well have been wearing a big diamond engagement ring for all the shock I'm causing.

  "This is Sawyer, everyone."

  Jason downs his drink. Jason's mother, Agnes, covers her hand over her mouth and looks as if she might start to cry. Mia is smirking. I don't know why and I want to say I don't care, but I'm curious as to why she finds Sawyer and me funny.

  I go through the room, making introductions. Everyone is polite, especially Mia, who gushes about how happy she is to have him here. She's not flirting—at least, I don't think she is. She seems over the moon that I've shown up with someone, as if my finding someone new absolves her betrayal.

  I leave Jason for last. "Sawyer, this is Jason."

  Sawyer outstretches his hand and Jason stares at it.

  "It's going to be like that, is it?" Sawyer says with a smile.

  Jason turns and heads out of room. Mia beams.

  "How about I show you around?" I say to Sawyer, desperately wanting to avoid the tension in the room.

  He nods as I lead him away. I squeeze his hand tightly, maybe too tight, but he doesn't complain. I don't bother with showing him everything. Basically, I show him the downstairs bathroom and head up to my room. My mother hasn't touched it since I left, but I notice there's not a speck of dust on the furniture. Even the books on my bookshelf are dust-free. When I let go of Sawyer's hand, he shakes it.

  "Sorry," I say with an apologetic smile.

  "About the hand?" he points to his hand. "Or about tonight?"

  "Both. It's really bad, hey?"

  "No wonder you didn't want to come alone." He locks the door. "Will they come looking for you?" A single eyebrow quirks up.

  I tip my head to the side and prop my hands on my hips. "Why? What did you have in mind?"

  He stalks toward me, his eyes hooded and focused. When he reaches me, he leans down and grabs the hem of my skirt. "This will be quick. And I promise it'll be painless."

  "What if I want pain?"

  One side of his mouth quirks up. "I'll take a rain-check."

  He hikes my skirt up and pulls my underwear down to my knees, and then he clutches my waist and spins me around. One of his hands is at my neck while the other is sliding down my stomach and heading further south.

  "I've never had sex in my bedroom before."

  "Never?" he asks.

  "I didn't have sex until I moved away to college."

  "Let's not talk about you sexual history. Right now, I want to focus on how wet you are and how you feel when I do this." He dips his hand inside of me and I gasp, melting into his arms. His fingers move in and out while his thumb strokes at my clit.

  "Sawyer." It’s wrong to have sex in my parents' house with everyone downstairs, but I don’t want him to stop. No, I want him to continue and it makes me feel strong, powerful. Like I don’t care what anyone has to say about it. It’s liberating.

  His other hand grips my breast and squeezes just hard enough to border pleasure and pain. Then the hand between my legs moves faster. I tilt my head back and rest it on his shoulder. "This feels so good. I want you."

  "Not now. This is about you." His hands are magical, moving faster than seems possible. I feel myself climbing the mountain of orgasm, each step making my whole body pulsate with electricity and heat. I want to turn around and hold him in my hands, taste him, but I don't dare move because this feels so good and I don't want him to stop. Ever.

  "I-I'm going to come," I whisper.

  He slows his movements, teasing me. I've never wanted him more. And then like an explosion, my whole body tenses and relaxes, over and over, in a sweet release that leaves me sated and about to fall down. He holds his arms around me to keep me up. I giggle, basking in an after-orgasm glow that makes me want to stretch and fall asleep.

  "Better?" he whispers into my ear, making my body come to attention once again.

  "Much."

  "I think I need to go to the bathroom."

  "Need a hand?" I tease.

  "Not if we want to make dinner."

  As he heads for the door, I pull my underwear up and my skirt down. Immediately, my underwear is soaked and it's uncomfortable. I search through my drawers for any I've left behind. Score! I don't know what to do with the others. Not cool for my mother to find a pair of soaked undies in her hamper—or mine—so I do the only thing I can think of. I shove them in my purse.

  A knock at the door makes me jump. I spin around to find Mia. My eyes narrow at the sight of her.

  "Hey," she says with a wave.

  I don't say anything back.

  "Sawyer seems…nice."

  "What do you want, Mia?"

  "We need to talk, Molly. Now that you seem to be over Jason, I think I can tell you the whole story. What I should have told you before your wedding day but I was too scared."

  "I don't understand."

  Mia hugs herself. Her face becomes serious and her eyes look pained. "I…"

  "Hello," Sawyer says as he reaches the doorway.

  Mia steps aside and he crosses the room to meet me. "Everything okay?"

  "Yeah. Mia was just about to tell me something."

  Mia bites her bottom lip as her gaze shifts back and forth between Sawyer and me. "We'll talk in a bit, okay. Don't forget?"

  I nod. "Whatever you say."

  When Mom calls us for dinner, we're downstairs in the kitchen. Sawyer is at the island, picking at veggies and dip. I'm across from him. Everyone else is in the living room. We’ve kind of kept to ourselves for the last hour, and no one seems to mind. How different it would it be if Sawyer wasn't here?

  Sawyer and I move to take our seats beside each other, but my mother shouts. "No! I have a seating plan in my mind."

  I frown. "Mom, Sawyer doesn't know anyone here. Can't we just sit beside each other?" Because I know her seating plan will probably have us at opposite ends of the table, and I'll probably be smack dab between her and Jason.

  "Molly, please just do as I say."

  She pulls nametags from the top of the buffet and places them dead center on the china dinner plates. "I didn't know you were coming, Sawyer, so I'll put you right here, next to Mia."

  I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something that would make everyone in the room uncomfortable. What the hell is she playing at? Mia frowns at me and her cheeks burn. "Mother, I'll switch with Molly so she can sit with Sawyer."

  My mother throws her hands up in the air. "I don't know why I bother. All my hard work.”

  "You had Lucy come over hours ago and cook everything, Mom.” Mia rolls her eyes at my mother and slumps back in her seat, bored.

  Mom glares daggers at her. Does she think we didn't know? She hasn't cooked a bird for our family since…well, since ever.

  “Fine. Suit yourself. It’s a free for all.”

  I almost feel inclined to insist on her seating arrangement. The old me, sans Sawyer, would definitely have been guilted into doing just that, but with Sawyer at my side I feel a little stronger, like I can take whatever my mother throws at me.

  So I sit where I want to sit, next to my father with Sawyer on my right. He slides his hand under the table and squeezes my knee. When I glance at him, he winks at me and suddenly the tense atmosphere lifts. I smile back and somehow forget the time because my father clears his throat soon after.

  Mom leaves once everyone is seated. “Molly, give me a hand, will you?” She calls from the kitchen, a clear ploy to get a moment alone with me. I set my purse down on the floor and, sighing,
I go to her.

  She's filling the gravy container when I walk through the entrance. Her gaze meets mine for a second. “Give this a quick stir, please.”

  I nod and take over, gently turning a spoon through the pale brown mixture. The smell of the bird wafts through the house and in the kitchen, it’s overwhelming. My stomach is working overtime, gurgling and crying to be fed.

  “How could you bring him?” she whispers as she lifts the bird out the pan and places it on a platter. “I told you who he is. What he’s all about? Is that what you’re into now? Criminals?”

  I take a deep breath and place the spoon on the counter. “He was never charged, Mom. You said that yourself."

  “So he told you, then? I’m curious how he described shooting his stepfather a half dozen times in the chest.”

  I swallow hard.

  “Did he tell you that?”

  I shake my head. “I find it a little bit funny that you judge him so harshly when all of this,” I wave my hand through the house, “was paid for courtesy of the criminals Daddy represents.”

  She props a hand on her hip and narrows her eyes at me. “He represents them, Molly—he doesn’t invite them to family dinners. And if I were you I’d be asking a lot more questions. People like that don’t change. He’s had a DUI and some assault charges as well. Did he mention those?”

  “Please stop talking, Mom,” I say so quietly that I’m not sure if she can hear me.

  Mom throws the boiled potatoes into a glass bowl and hands it to me with the gravy container. “Smile, Molly. You look rattled.”

  I head back to the dining room and force a smile, but my head is spinning. As much as I wanted to put Sawyer’s past out of my mind, there are things I need to know about him. I can’t be with him if I’m always wondering what he’s hiding from me—whether he wants to talk about it or not. Don’t I deserve to know now that we’re in a monogamous relationship? But if I push, he’ll walk.