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Lessons for Lexi

Page 9

by Charlene McSuede


  Lexi’s eyes popped open at her last thought. She loved him. It was a thought that would have filled most women with joy. It just filled Lexi with frozen dread. Her stomach started to burn and her impending orgasm flittered away.

  “Something wrong, sweetheart?” JT was watching, having noticed the way she went still.

  “I’m not feeling very well.” She pushed herself to a sit and tried to ignore JT’s stare. The stare of the man she loved. She pressed her hand to her mouth.

  “Is it your stomach?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and raced to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to throw up. After a few minutes of dry heaving, her stomach finally calmed down enough for her to move away from the toilet and lean back on the bathroom cabinet.

  JT was there, handing her a glass of water, the concern still in his eyes. “I want to know what’s going on with you.” His tone was uncompromising and Lexi nearly flinched.

  “I have an ulcer.” It was a half truth.

  JT crouched down next to her. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.” His tone was gentle but firm. “An ulcer doesn’t explain all those scars on your stomach.” He reached out and ran a hand over the faded maze of scar tissue.

  Lexi just shook her head. She couldn’t tell him, not now, not when everything was going so well between them.

  “I hate to do this sweetheart, but I’ll paddle it out of you if I have to.”

  Lexi winced. A few swats with the evil looking paddle in her nightstand drawer would have her spilling everything in no time. Then JT would hate her…and probably spank her backside right off for lying to him. “JT, please,” she gave him her most innocent eyes and prayed he’d be willing to compromise, “we have the country club dance tonight. I’ll tell you everything after that.” She pushed herself to a wobbly stand. “I just can’t deal with it now.”

  JT crossed his arms and gave her a stern look. For a second, she was worried that he was going to drag her off to paddle her right then and there. Instead, he sighed. “Fine. We’ll talk after the dance.” His face was determined. “But no putting it off. I swear Lexi, if you even try to stall, I’ll spank you so hard I’ll get your entire life story out of you, understand?”

  Lexi nodded, knowing that it was no idle threat, and hoped that she would find a way to tell him the truth without making him throw her out on the street.

  ***

  JT smiled as he watched Alex get ready. She was adorable when she was primping and he loved watching her play with her hair and put on her makeup.

  He was still worried about the vomiting, and had wondered if they should even go to the Labor Day party that night, but Alex had assured him that she would be fine.

  Tonight, she would tell him how she got the scars, and regardless of how they happened, he would find a way to comfort her. Then, he would tell her he loved her.

  It was something he’d realized in the second week of dating her. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met before. Passionate, but innocent. Intelligent but slightly naïve. Sweet, but spicy all at the same time.

  So far, he hadn’t told Althea that he was seeing Alex. Althea was an old fashioned woman. She hadn’t approved of him and Faith living together out of wedlock, and she certainly wouldn’t approve of him shacking up with someone she liked, but still considered the help.

  Once Alex was elevated from help to fiancé, he was sure Althea would be more forgiving.

  Radford and Althea were already at the party, as they were part of the committee and had to be there for prep. He’d offered to drive Alex, not just because he loved the alone time, but because he wanted her there as his date. If she was going to be the next Mrs. Hussner, the sooner she started meeting his friends the better.

  “I’m ready.” Alex stood from her vanity chair and faced him, a vision in a short, form fitting black lace dress. She looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her and her face was oddly familiar. He tried to put a name to which celebrity she looked like, but couldn’t make one come to mind.

  “You look beautiful.” He got up from where he was lounging on the bed and straightened his tux.

  She gave him a once over. “So do you.”

  He smiled and took her hand, leading her out to the passenger seat of his car. He waited until they were about halfway to the party before he thought it was necessary to remind her of the rules.

  “You’re going to behave yourself tonight right?”

  Alex nodded.

  “No swearing, no reckless behavior…”

  She let out a sigh. “I know JT, I know.”

  “No drinking,” he continued firmly.

  She pouted. “Come on JT, it’s a party! Everyone will be drinking.”

  “Yes, and most people know how to stop drinking. You don’t.” He was not compromising on the drinking. Whether Alex wanted to admit it or not, she had a problem. She’d been clean for the past two months and there was no way he was letting her fall off the wagon. “So no drinking, period.”

  She let out a frustrated huff. “Fine.”

  “I’m serious Alex, I even see you with one drink in your hand…”

  “I said fine.”

  He was worried that she was going to give him trouble over that rule, but she was surprisingly well behaved. She walked around, sipping on a champagne glass full of ginger ale, making chit chat with his friends and business associates, charming them all. She was in rare form, light, funny and amazingly quick witted. She also had an incredible grasp of politics, though her opinions fell a bit more on the liberal side than his did.

  She was perfect and he kept her glued to his side, thrilled to show off the woman he loved. Then, the hitch came in the evening.

  “JT Hussner,” he got an overly firm slap on the back and turned around as Alex continued talking to his bank manager’s wife about the healing benefits of green tea. “How the hell have you been?”

  “Lucas Berringer,” JT forced himself to smile, even though he hated the man. Lucas Berringer was a middle aged prick who owned half of the real estate in Connecticut. He was an incredibly unpleasant man, who was said to be ruthless with his business associates and even his own family. In fact, JT had heard a rumor that he’d disowned his own daughter because she refused to go into the family business. The last thing he wanted to do was introduce him to Alex, but professional courtesy demanded it. He tapped her on the shoulder. “Sweetheart, I need to introduce you to someone.”

  Alex turned around and the smile immediately slipped off her beautiful face. Her hand was clenching her champagne glass of ginger ale so hard; he was worried she would break it.

  Strangely, Berringer was just as stricken. He recovered quicker than Alex did though. “Why Alexandra, I never would have expected to see you here.” He made the statement sound like an insult.

  “I didn’t expect to see you either,” Alex swallowed. “Dad. Or should I call you Mr. Berringer? You did disown me, after all.”

  JT’s mouth dropped open and he watched Alex in open astonishment. He’d always thought Alex was a blue collar girl, hiding from petty crimes or an abusive ex. He never even considered the fact that she was what most people called ‘the lost Berringer heir.”

  “The door is always open if you want to reconsider,” Berringer informed his daughter evenly. “I figured you would have learned your lesson after that business at the radio station.” His eyes were incredibly cruel and Alex let out a sharp cry of pain. “But then again, you always were a stubborn girl, got that from your mother.”

  Alex spun towards JT. “I’m sorry, but I can’t even pretend to be nice to this guy. I’ll be at the bar.” Alex stormed away, clearly intent on breaking his ‘no drinking’ edict.

  He followed after her and managed to grab the scotch out of her hand just as she was about to put it to her lips. “Lucas Berringer is your father.”

  Alex nodded as she tried to grab the scotch back. “Yes, unfortunately.”

  He held it out of her reach. “
Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Because I don’t consider him my father anymore.” Alex clenched her hand over her stomach. “He was never much of one when I was growing up.” She shrugged. “I think he blamed me for my mother’s death. She died giving birth to me.” Her sad eyes met his. “Despite all that, he still expected me to follow him into the family business. When I told him I would rather eat glass for a living, he kicked me out and told me to come back when I changed my mind.”

  JT put the scotch down on the bar. “How old were you?”

  Alex eyed the scotch and snatched it up lightening fast. Before he could stop her, she tossed it down in one belt. “17,” she answered as she slammed her glass back down on the bar.

  JT gave her a stern look before deciding to let her off for breaking the rules. Seeing her father had clearly upset her, though not as much as what he’d said about the radio station. “What did he mean by that ‘radio station’ crack?”

  Alex went white. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”

  He caught her by the hand and started to pull her towards the coat room. “Fine, we’ll talk about it in the car.”

  Alex let out a gasp and tried to struggle free. “It’s none of your damn business.”

  He kept pulling as she struggled, leading her down a short hallway. “It’s absolutely my business and I think it has a lot to do with your behavior.”

  She finally ripped her arm free. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it!” She was practically yelling and the coat check girl gave them a concerned stare.

  He spun on her. “Well you’re going to, if I have to wear out ever belt in the house to get it out of you.” His temper abated a little when he realized how upset she was. Both hands were clenched over her stomach and she was incredibly pale. Deathly pale. “Alex?” He gentled his tone. He reached for her.

  She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she hitched forward, gagged and then vomited all over the front of his tux.

  He looked down in shock and his heart nearly stopped beating, because what Alex had just vomited wasn’t vomit. It was blood.

  He caught her just before she hit the floor, blood still streaming from her lips, and started screaming for someone to call an ambulance.

  Chapter 10

  Lexi was caught in a familiar nightmare. It was a nightmare she had at least once a week for the past year and it always started the same.

  Dead air. There was never supposed to be dead air on the radio. That was the number one thing Ronnie had always taught her when she started interning for him. Ronnie had picked her for an intern because she was pretty. She had picked Ronnie because his brother was in television, hoping for a connection later.

  They’d been a match made in heaven. Lexi proofread his scripts, fact checked his statistics and made his coffee. He’d taken Lexi under his wing, taught her everything he knew about radio, and occasionally pinched her ass. Eventually, all that pinching and teaching turned to love.

  They’d been together for about 2 months when Raj noticed their chemistry wasn’t just obvious to them. It was obvious to everyone. Their banter and insults were always fast and scathing. After a lot of coaxing, Lexi had been convinced to go on Ronnie’s radio show.

  It was magic. Their chemistry translated to good radio and they had a decent fan following. Nothing major, they weren’t worldwide celebrities, but they were comfortable and knew their contracts weren’t going anywhere. They were Andrew Flaxman’s most stable clients. They’d gone along nicely for two years, Raj producing their show, them bantering back and forth, occasionally getting into arguments with the callers.

  On the day Ronnie proposed to Lexi on the air, the show had gone viral on the internet. It had been one of the best days of Lexi’s life.

  The worst day of Lexi’s life had come a little more than six months later, and it had ended with dead air.

  The dead air in Lexi’s dream was stifling. Dead air always sent her into a panic. Nothing was playing, nothing was planned. Viewers were switching the stations.

  She was in the hallway of her old station, trying to get to a door, to stop the dead air. The more she ran, the further it got away. Then, out of nowhere she was there.

  That’s when the dead air was interrupted by gunshots.

  She wasn’t at the door anymore. She was sitting in her old chair, staring at Ronnie, getting ready to start a show. Raj did the countdown. 3 – 2 –

  Gunshot.

  Ronnie stood as the door to the recording room burst open. He looked shocked at the interruption, but not terrified. He never even saw it coming. “What?” He choked out in confusion as a man burst through the door, gun in hand.

  Then his body was flying backwards, slamming into the plastic partition, with blood spraying out of him. Lexi couldn’t tell where it was coming from. She screamed and threw her body on Ronnie’s.

  The man in the doorway was dressed in camouflage, like he was going to war, or hunting. Lexi let out a bubble of hysterical laughter. He was hunting.

  Ronnie. She had to focus on Ronnie. This time she would stop it. She pressed her hand over the gaping hole in his neck. Pressed it as hard as she could but the blood wouldn’t stop coming. She was hysterical, gasping and screaming. Watching Ronnie die over and over again. She was so hysterical, she never heard the last two gunshots.

  The first one was for her, it landed in her abdomen, but she never felt it as she tried to stop the flood of blood coming from Ronnie. The second one was the suicide bullet of the shooter. His name was Calvin Riceland and he’d been a mentally unbalanced, frequent caller of the show for years. He’d threatened them, but he’d been harmless. Or so they thought.

  Ronnie was dead by the time the EMTs had arrived. So was his shooter. Lexi had been unconscious, with Raj performing CPR when they’d arrived. She died twice on the way to the hospital, only to come back again.

  Four surgeons had worked on her for 18 hours and they’d worked miracles. She lost a good chunk of her stomach, along with some of her intestinal tract, but 6 weeks later, she was released from the hospital. She still had a few bullet fragments in her that the doctors felt were too dangerous to remove. Her stomach was a crisscross of scars from incisions. But she was alive.

  She’d missed Ronnie’s funeral. She’d been unconscious at the time. On her release from the hospital, she was given a long list of restrictions. Her body would never be the same again. She had to avoid stress, she had to eat right and abstain from alcohol. She could never have children. The scar tissue was pressing on her reproductive organs, interrupting her ovulation.

  Not only had the shooter taken Ronnie, he’d taken her ability to have a baby as well.

  The Lexi that had left the hospital had been bitter and determined to break every rule on the list, excluding the one about not having children. Even if she could have, she wouldn’t. She would never risk loving someone again, not when they could be taken away so fast.

  She went back to the radio station, ready to prove to the world that Ronnie’s death hadn’t been in vain and that they hadn’t beaten her. Shortly after the shooting, she’d returned to the radio as a solo DJ. Everyone waited for her to break down.

  Instead, Lexi was fantastic. While she’d been charismatic and charming before, she hadn’t had the edge she’d needed to truly become a star. The edge she had was an edge related to the bitterness over her fiancés death. Before, most of Lexi’s arguments had been mocking and a little passive aggressive. After the shooting, Lexi’s arguments weren’t arguments. They were attacks. Screaming matches. Everyone tuned in to see what Lexi would say next.

  In the beginning, it was a great outlet for her. She was mad at the world and she got to take it out on the world through the radio. For each tantrum she threw on air, she had people calling in to agree with her and people calling in to call her a bitch.

  Those calls always turned her stomach to knots. They were the ones that made her wonder if the person on the other end of the line
would be the next one to show up at her station with a gun. To hide her fear, she just got meaner.

  After six months of that, Lexi’s name was growing, but Lexi noticed she wasn’t angry anymore. She went on, half out of routine and half out of obligation to Ronnie. She wouldn’t let go of his memory. Letting go of the show was letting go of him and she wasn’t ready.

  Lexi became a household name. Her star had originally risen after people had tuned in out of morbid curiosity. After awhile, no one remembered how she had started. They just knew they either hated or loved Lexi Logan. There was no grey area about it.

  But Lexi’s heart wasn’t in it anymore. Instead, she was just filled with a slight feeling of dread along with constant sadness. Her damaged stomach rebelled against her when she’d tried to medicate it with alcohol, but she kept drinking. She fell into a routine. She got apathetic about her show.

  Her stunts in front of the paparazzi had only fed her fame. Her DUIs and speeding tickets. Her slapping a well known political pundit at the democratic convention. Her dropping an f bomb on Jeopardy that the producers had only just managed to bleep. The posing for Playboy, with a sheet strategically draped over her scarred middle.

  She was famous but she was lost. She both loved and hated being famous. She didn’t feel as alone when people knew her name, but she also couldn’t stand the constant play acting. The way she was always tense, on edge. The way she always felt sick when she got into an argument.

  Sick. Lexi fought to open her eyes, remembering what had happened. She’d thrown up blood on JT. On his tux no less. He was going to be furious. Maybe if she could open her eyes, she could promise to pay for the dry-cleaning. She kept trying.

  ***

  Words finally came in through the haze.

  “I think she’s trying to wake up.” She felt JT leaning over her and struggled to open her eyes. “Alex?”

  He still thought her name was Alex. She had to tell him the truth. Her eyes fluttered open and she focused on him. She croaked out the first words she would think of.

 

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