Hurt So Good: A Break So Soft Novel

by Black, Stasia

  Darren proposed meeting Miranda here, though, and I knew there was no reasonable excuse to get out of it. And having my thoughts on her all afternoon has kept me from getting stuck in my usual brooding funk that being here brings on.

  “So, Miranda,” Darren says once we’re all seated, “tell me everything about yourself. Then I promise I’ll share all the embarrassing childhood stories I have on Dylan.”

  My chest loosens as I relax, watching the two of them interact. Miranda is lovely as she talks about Ohio and the small town where she grew up, and I only have to threaten Darren with disownment a couple times as he relates some of the more embarrassing mishaps of my early years.

  “No way.” Miranda’s sparkling eyes come my direction. “Where’d you get the cow?”

  “Don’t believe anything he tells you. He was the one who put the cow in the Principal’s office on the last day of my senior year. He just blamed it on me.”

  Miranda’s head swings back to Darren. “Is that true?”

  He shrugs and then smiles slyly. “I plead the fifth.”

  The food is delicious and Darren keeps conversation flowing. It’s always been his talent, far more than mine. In any social situation, he always knows exactly what to say and how to act. Having him as the face of the company was a large part of why we were able to grow as fast as we did. With his marketing and networking skills and my technical and engineering background, we were a force to be reckoned with.

  But I’ve never appreciated him more than in this moment.

  Getting to see the two people I care most in the world getting along so well? It means a helluva lot. I catch his eye as the caterers switch out our dinner plates for dessert and give him a small, meaningful nod that I hope lets him see my appreciation.

  My phone rings right as I’m about to take a bite of my crème brûlée and I excuse myself from the table.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Lennox. It’s Malik here.” Malik is my chief software engineer. “We’re having a problem with the RISC chips we’re testing. The precision of the localization code is way off and we’re scrambling to figure out a way to fix it.”

  “Shit.” I glance back over to Miranda and Darren, both of whom are looking my way. “I need to finish up with something but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Okay. As soon as possible would be best. We’ll keep working on it, but you’ve got the most experience with the new chips and everything’s stalled out till we fix this.”

  I give a sharp nod then realize he can’t see me. “Got it. I’ll text you when I have an ETA.”

  “What is it?” Miranda asks. “Is something the matter?”

  “Just a problem in engineering. I’ll need to run over there later this afternoon.”

  “What happened?” Darren gives me a concerned look.

  “Nothing we can’t fix. Just a bug with one of the processor’s chips we’re testing.”

  Darren shoots me a look. “How many bugs is it going to take before you admit it’s a bad idea taking a chance on those new chips?”

  Of course he’d use this as an opportunity to take a dig at the RISC chips. He knows we were running another set of experiments with them this weekend. It’s true we’ve been running into bug after bug, but they’re all stupid ones. Little things that are easily fixed. The design of the new chips still makes them the best way to go, I’m more and more convinced the more I work with them.

  “RISC is the future of robotics, Dare, how many times do I have to tell you? The old processors are shit in comparison. They won’t be able to compete—”

  Then I glance Miranda’s way. Fuck. I’m just putting my foot in it. Her company, ProDynamics, makes one of the old Intel-style processors. And I haven’t even officially declined the ProDynamics bid. Unofficially, I know I want to go with the RISC chips but we have to make sure they’ll work with the rest of our infrastructure first. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Dylan,” Miranda cuts me off, taking her napkin from her lap and putting it on the table. “It sounds like you need to go now. It’s okay. Go.” Her eyes are earnest and she doesn’t look offended in the least about my off-handed putdown of companies like the one she works for. “We’re almost done here anyway. I’ve had a lovely lunch.”

  Damn, is this woman even real? I pause, wavering. I never want her to think that I consider my work more important than her. And she doesn’t even seem upset about her company losing the bid.

  She rolls her eyes at me like she can see what I’m thinking. “Dylan, I’ve seen you almost every day this week, I can handle an afternoon without you.”

  She stands up to come around the table and I meet her halfway. I cup her face in my hands and give her a kiss. If Darren weren’t here it would last much longer but I try to keep it PG. Mostly.

  I pull back and search her eyes. “I’ll see you tonight?”

  She bites her lip. Jesus, it drives me crazy when she bites her lip like that and she knows it. “I’ll see you tonight,” she whispers, running a hand down my shirt.

  Darren clears his throat and we spring apart. Shit. For a second I forgot he was here. Being with Miranda can do that—shut out everything else in the world besides us.

  I grin sheepishly at my brother.

  “I’ll show Miranda out after we finish dessert.” He looks to Miranda. “Sound good?”

  Her eyes flick my way but then she smiles back at Darren and nods. “Sounds great.”

  I give her one last kiss and then, with the hand that Darren can’t see, I pinch her ass. She stifles a yelp and I grin. “See you tonight, babe.”

  Chapter Twelve

  MIRANDA

  Darren and I eat our crème brûlée in companionable silence after Dylan walks out the door. Meeting Darren has been a nice surprise.

  I was so nervous all the way over here. What if Darren didn’t like me? I know how important he is to Dylan, being the only family that he has left that he’s close with.

  But things have gone so well that all the nerves in my stomach have finally settled.

  After the last bite, I settle my spoon back in the empty bowl and smile Darren’s way. “Well this really was lovely. It’s been great getting to know the little brother Dylan talks about so much.”

  “Oh?” Darren asks, eyebrows going up. “He talks about me? That’s funny because I was lying earlier. Before today, he’s hardly ever brought you up.”

  I frown. “I’m sorry?” I must have heard him wrong.

  “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m just saying that Dylan never talks about his whores much.”

  My jaw literally drops open. Did he just—? It’s several long seconds before I shut my mouth with a clack of teeth.

  I shove my chair back. So Dylan’s brother is a total jackass. Okay. Well, I’m getting the hell out of here.

  But Darren stands up right when I do. And as I skirt the table and head for the door, he grabs my upper arm in a grip so crushing I cry out.

  “Where you headed in such a hurry, whore?”

  I yank to get away but it’s no use, his hold is like iron. “Let go of me,” I spit. “Or I’ll scream.”

  He just grins cruelly. “All the catering staff left before Dylan did. No one will hear you. Besides, I thought you liked it rough.”

  Fear makes all my arm hair stand on ends and my stomach upend. Did Dylan tell him about…? Is that why he thinks this is okay?

  Darren wraps an arm around my back like an iron bar and yanks me against his chest. He’s hard. I can feel him against my leg.

  I scream. Or try to.

  But the next second, his big hand is covering my mouth and he’s shoving me against the nearby wall. My head bangs painfully against the brick and he’s all but smothering me, his hand is cutting off most of the air to my nose as well.

  No. No. This isn’t happening. It’s a nightmare.

  Wake up. Wake UP, Miranda!

  “Oh yeah, you like it rough, don’t you, little slut?” Darren breathes into my
ear. “But then I’ve experienced it first hand, haven’t I? I’ve already had your mouth around my cock.”

  What—?

  Tears squeeze out of my eyes as I fight against his grasp. He just shoves me harder into the wall.

  Not like Dylan does. With Dylan, it’s just enough so that you feel his leashed strength. But Darren pounds my skull into the wall repeatedly until I’m lightheaded. I fight but it doesn’t matter. He’s huge and his grip is bruising.

  “Bryce always told me how well he’d broken his slut.”

  I freeze at my ex’s name. No. Oh God, no. Please, no, don’t let—

  “But I wanted to see it for myself. Lucky for me, Bryce never minded sharing.”

  No, no, no. I whimper into Darren’s hand but he just keeps talking.

  “Remember the night Bryce had you in the leather hood and on your knees? When there was a room full of Bryce’s friends?”

  No. No.

  “I was one of them. I was there.”

  My body sags in his grip. I can’t help it. Oh God.

  Darren laughs at my response. “Your boyfriend passed you around like you were a common whore that night. I liked it best when he ordered you to suck my cock while another man fucked you like you were a dog.”

  “Bryce said we could do whatever we wanted as long as we didn’t leave marks. Do you remember that? Do you remember how eagerly you licked and slurped at my cock? I shoved it down your throat so far you gagged. But you still. Just. Kept. Sucking. You were such an obedient little slut.”

  He laughs and I want to throw up. He was there that night. He— And I— I’m going to throw up.

  He laughs even harder as he watches my face. But then all the laughter dies from his features as he leans in and licks my cheek. I wrench my face away but he just grips me tighter.

  “I’m feeling in the mood for a repeat, whore. On your knees.”

  My eyes shoot open wide. No way in fucking hell am I—

  His hand comes off my mouth as he starts to unbuckle his pants.

  “Fuck you!” I shout at the top of my lungs. “You stick anything in my mouth and I’ll bite it fucking off.”

  Black fury enters his eyes and that’s all the warning I get before his fist swings. He lands it in my gut and I double over, wheezing at the pain.

  I want to scream for help but he’s just knocked all the air out of me. I gasp as he shoves me to the floor.

  I scramble away from him and he doesn’t immediately come after me. Only because he knows he doesn’t have to. There’s no way I’ll make it to the door before he catches me again.

  Shit. Shit. How do I get out of here in one piece?

  When he takes a step toward me, I hold up a hand and wheeze, “Don’t. Don’t, or I’ll tell Dylan.”

  Darren just laughs. “Who do you think he’ll believe? His baby brother? Or the lying whore he’s only been fucking for a few weeks? Especially when he finds out you used to date the man who almost ruined him. Bryce tried to burn his life down.”

  I shake my head in disbelief as it all clicks into place. “And you let him.”

  Darren shrugs nonchalantly. “Without dearest big bro in the picture, the company is all mine. Dylan’s useful but he’s not necessary. And his ethics can be tiresome at times.”

  I can only stare at him. “You’re the monster he’s terrified his father turned him into. But it’s not him. It’s you.”

  Darren tuts. “It’s true that Dad saw quickly enough that Dylan was weak. So he turned his attentions to training me to be the man Dylan never could be.”

  “An abusive asshole, you mean.”

  Darren’s eyes narrow and he crosses the distance between us in two strides. Then, before I can even get a handle on what’s happening, he has me up off the floor and shoved against the wall by my throat.

  “I’d be careful how you speak to me, bitch.” Spittle sprays on my face as he speaks and I shut my eyes and wrench my head to the side.

  He just keeps talking. “Now that I have your attention. Convince him to accept the contract with your company. The old processors worked just fucking fine.”

  My eyes shoot open at that. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. This is about their product line? But no, looking into his cruel eyes, I can see it’s about far more than that. He was willing to ruin his brother years ago. He probably doesn’t give a shit about which processor they use in their robotics line, he just hates the fact that Dylan had an opinion and overrode him.

  And now, if I do what he says— “Dylan might think the only reason I wanted to be with him in the first place was to try to talk him into making a deal with ProDynamics. No, I can’t. I won’t—”

  Darren socks me in the stomach again and I cry out uselessly at the pain even as I realize what he’s doing—hitting me where it won’t leave obvious marks. Just like his father taught him, no doubt.

  “If you don’t, this gets leaked to Buzzfeed, bitch.”

  Darren yanks his phone out of his pocket, pushes play on a video, and shoves it in front of my face.

  You like that? Dylan growls on the video. It’s dark but I can still make him out, bent over me on my Corvette in the garage from that very first night. You like it when I fucking defile you?

  The video is so clear I can see his hand as it drops to plunge a finger into my backside.

  I can’t help the cry that escapes my throat as I look back to Darren. How did he even get this footage? It’s not grainy like it would be if it were from a security camera. It’s color, even.

  He just smirks at my confusion. “I hoped throwing the two of you together that night might spark something. But you both performed beyond my wildest expectations.”

  “How did you—” I wheeze, my eyes shooting back to the video. The angle, and how clear you can see Dylan’s face. Then I get it. “You had someone following your own brother?”

  “For about a year now,” Darren says. “And this was the first time the Golden Boy slipped up. Then again, Bryce did create you to be the perfect victim.” Darren rubs a thumb over my bottom lip and I jerk back.

  But he’s not done. “Not even my brother could withstand you. Not back then and not now. Because oh, did I forget to tell you? At Bryce’s party, that time while I was fucking your face? Dylan was the one fucking you from behind at the same time.”

  His words do what all the blows in the world couldn’t.

  I go limp. Darren sees it and smiles bigger than he has all afternoon.

  He pulls back and shoves me to the floor again. I crumple to the ground.

  Of course I always knew it was a possibility. Most of the time when Bryce invited his friends over and passed me around, he didn’t bother blindfolding me, but there were a few nights like the one Darren is talking about where he did.

  And Dylan was there. Dylan was there the night when… the night when—

  I shut my eyes, refusing to think about it any more right now. Because that’s exactly what Darren wants and I refuse to give this evil bastard a fucking inch.

  Darren looks like he’s about to reach down for me again when his phone pings with a text message. Looking annoyed, he glances down at it, then starts tapping out a reply.

  He finally puts it back in his pocket and eyes me critically. “Looks like we’ll have to finish this another time.” He crouches over and gets in my face. “Two weeks. You have two weeks. If Dylan doesn’t okay the contract with ProDynamics in two weeks, then I release the video and ruin him so he no longer has a say in the company’s dealings. One way or another, I’ll get my contract, do you understand, whore? You decide how.”

  He stands up, towering over me. “You can let yourself out.”

  And then, because it’s what bullies do, he kicks me while I’m down one last time for good measure before he chuckles and walks out of the house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MIRANDA

  I get to my feet as soon as humanly possible after he leaves but my legs are wobb
ly. In part from shock at everything that just happened and partially because I hurt. Everywhere. Darren might have only punched and kicked me in my stomach, but crashing to the ground several times has left me feeling bruised everywhere.

  Bruised inside and out.

  I stumble out to my car and lock the doors as soon as I’m inside. That’s not enough, though, and I pull out of the parking lot, only feeling like I can really breathe again once I’m on the highway speeding away.

  Everything I’m feeling… it’s so… familiar.

  I know this.

  I lived this for years.

  Bryce rarely actually hit me like Darren just did. Maybe that’s how I was able to justify living with him for as long as I did? But what he reduced me to was exactly the same as the woman on the floor back there.

  When I finally pull into my driveway, the sun has already set, early since it’s winter, and it’s dark out. I drop my forehead to the steering wheel, then bang it a few times.

  Finally I manage to drag myself inside where I immediately start the shower, turning it to the hottest I can possibly stand.

  I shed my clothes and stand under the spray.

  But the memories are as relentless as the blasting water beating down on my head.

  Then again, Bryce did create you to be the perfect victim.

  I was an up and coming executive at a tech company when I met Bryce. His fledgling startup, GentryTech was rival to the company I worked for at the time, though mine was much more established.

  I was impressed by Bryce but not as in awe of him like so many were.

  He seemed to take that as a challenge.

  He wanted me. Doted on me. When I finally said yes to going on a date with him, he’d been at it for six months.

  He punished me for it later, making him wait like that. And he took great satisfaction in the punishments.

  It started small. A word of rebuke or an insult here or there. Often after sex when I was at my most vulnerable.