Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “Yes.”

  We are silent for a beat. Her nervous energy bounces between us.

  My heart stops when she brings the glass up to her ruby lips.

  I lean and whisper into her ear. “I want those red lips around my cock.” She pauses and coughs, then turns to look at me with a hint of a smile on her lips. So beautiful.

  “How about we declare a cease fire tonight?” I propose. “There are no more debts to be paid. Let’s just be August and Elody and reclaim a little of our old magic for one night.” I don’t want to fight with her anymore. I’m tired of being pissed all the time.

  She nods quickly and smiles.

  Her eyes leave mine and dart around the room. She is uncomfortable.

  “I want to count and capture all of your smiles tonight,” I say, and her blush warms my insides. I take her drink, place it on a table with mine, and lead her to the dance floor.

  I pull her into my arms, and we move as one to the music. “How can you look even more beautiful?” I ask. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  “Are you going to talk to me?”

  She rests her head on my shoulder, but I feel her shake her head. I pull her into a spin, and our movement together is effortless.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  She shakes her head again, and I can feel something change in her. Her body sags, and I know. Her sadness fills me. I pull back and stare down at her, then lift her chin to get her to look at me. There is pain, longing, and sadness behind her misty eyes.

  I pull her away from the dance floor and up a grand staircase to a quiet spot overlooking the gala.

  “Please talk to me El,” I say when we are alone. She turns to the party below and we ignore the problem between us as we watch the party goers dance and mingle. It’s six-thirty—still cocktail hour. In about half an hour, my father and his cronies should begin the speeches followed by a lavish meal, requests for donations, the auction, and an award ceremony honoring benefactors. After, dancing and drinking usually lasts until the wee hours of the night. If she needs me to, if this is where she’d rather be, I will spend the entire night watching the event from the second floor.

  Her hand drags across her face and I know that she’s crying. I want to comfort her, but I don’t have the first idea how.

  “Please talk to me,” I repeat.

  “I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” she says, but she doesn’t look at me. She focuses her attention on the party below.

  A small sound escapes me. She wants to stay. It should be an answered prayer for me. I think a part of me has always wished she’d come back to me, but the another part never wanted to see her again. Right now, I want to jump up and down and run down the stairs shouting my joy to anyone who will listen. At the same time, I want to run as fast and far away from her as I can. Does she think I’m a fool? How could I ever trust her again after she left me?

  “Then don’t leave me again,” I say. “Stay with me. We could work it out and find a place where we could be together again,” I am a fucking fool.

  She turns to me and her eyes reveal her soul. They tell me of her pain, sorrow, and regret. Most of all, they tell me that she still loves me. “I have something to tell you, August.”

  “August!” I turn to see my father standing about ten feet away from us.

  “Dad. You remember Elody?”

  He barely acknowledges her.

  “Your mother is looking for you, son. She is upset, and I can never console her.”

  I nod and take Elody by the hand to go find my mother.

  “Please, just you, son. I’ll see to Elody while you check on your mother.” He smiles, but even I know it’s fake. Elody’s hand tightens in mine. When I look at her, I see fear in her eyes, her skin has gone white. I narrow my eyes.

  I ignore my father and pull her along with me, but he steps in our path.

  “Son, I would advise against you bringing your guest with you to your mother. It seems she is the reason for your mother’s current state.”

  I glance back and forth between them, then rush off to see what’s got my mother in a tiff. Why would it have anything to do with Elody?

  ELODY

  2010

  “WHAT IN THE HELL ARE you doing here?” Mr. Mitchell spits at me. “I thought I was clear when I told you to stay away from my son.” His eyes bore into me.

  My blood drops in temperature, causing me to shake, but I don’t show him that. Instead I stand tall.

  “I know that you’re still working as the hired help for rich families,” he says. “I can still ruin your career. You’d end up in some small, podunk town in the middle of nowhere.”

  A small laugh escapes me. “You think that would ruin me? I love all children, and I’d help them anywhere, any place.”

  He grabs me by the wrist. “Oh, so you’re a saint? You like children so much that you fucked mine. He was sixteen. I should have had you arrested.” He squeezes my arm so tight that my skin burns under his grasp.

  “Yes, you could have, but instead you offered me one hundred thousand dollars to get away from him because you think your money can buy anybody.” I snatch my arm away from his grasp. “You can’t buy me, though. I didn’t care about your money then and I don’t care about it now. Do you think I wanted this? I didn’t expect to see him in Denver. We ran into each other.”

  A sinister smile covers his face. “I don’t care what happened. You broke the rule. Consider your cushy career over. Cinderella is going back to the slums.”

  I fight a lump in my throat. This motherfucker thinks he knows me!

  “Do you think I chose to be a nanny because I thought I’d get rich? Ha!” I shake my head at this clueless man. “I chose this life because I wasn’t fortunate to grow up with two parents...or even one. I grew up in foster care and no one wanted me. I chose this life to be part of a family, even if it was temporary.”

  He stares at me, and a slow smile grows across his face. He doesn’t care. I shouldn’t have told this piece of shit man anything personal.

  “You know, August told me he felt like a foster child too, with all his nannies and helpers substituting for his parents.”

  This time, he grabs me by the arm, but I pull away from him.

  “I did not mean to fall in love with your son. It happened, and I’m sorry that I crossed that line. Do you think you’re an award-winning father? You left me alone with a maturing boy for months at a time. Didn’t you expect something to happen?”

  He gets so close to my face that I can smell whiskey on his breath.

  “I expected you to be a fucking professional and do your job, not spread your legs open the second we left, like the little gold digging whore that you are.”

  My hand flies up to slap his face before I can stop it. His expression changes to rage, and I back away from him. I turn to run and slam into August. His arms are around me at once. He pulls back and stares at me.

  “What the hell happened?” His eyes move to his father. I push away from him and run. When I hit the stairs I hear his father yell after me that my career is finished.

  My vision is blurred and cloudy, so I push through the crowd of strangers and out into the night without my coat. My outer body is as cold as I feel on the inside. I request a car on my phone with shaky hands.

  If Mr. Mitchell follows through with his threat, I’m stuck. There’s no way that the family in Florida will want me. He’ll probably make up lies, or even worse, tell them the truth—I had a relationship with his teenage son. That’ll be it for me.

  AUGUST

  2003

  I’M ALMOST SCARED TO see Elody. I have no idea what my father said to her last night, but after the talking to I got, I know it can’t be good. I need to check in with her, but I know that we’re being watched. Last night, Carl and two of the housekeepers moved back into their quarters unexpectedly. I’m sure my father filled them in on our tryst, as he referred to it, and they’ll re
port to him the second I so much as look at Elody.

  It’s the morning after all hell broke loose. I gave her the space she asked for, but it’s time to make plans. Now that our relationship is out in the open, it’s time to talk.

  I round the corner to the kitchen. “Hi, Eloise,” I say. Eloise has been with our family since I was in preschool. She reminds me of a grandmother.

  “Good morning, August. How’d you sleep?” she asks.

  “I didn’t.”

  I pull the jug of milk from the fridge and a box of cereal from the pantry. I want to ask about Elody, but I’m trying to stay calm. I don’t want to seem eager.

  Really, I want to run to her room and make sure she’s okay. Instead, I sit at the table and eat. I sit so I can see down the hall that leads to her room. What’s she thinking right now? Did my father say awful shit to her? I’m sure he did because he said them to me. When I turn eighteen in three months, none of this will even matter. Thanks to Clyde’s dad, I’ve been smart with my money, and I don’t need anything from my parents. I can take care of us. I just need her to give me three short months.

  “You must be August. Your parents told me so much about you,” a voice drifts from behind me.

  I turn to find a white-haired, matronly woman in her sixties. I drop my spoon into the bowl, and splash milk everywhere.

  “Who are you, exactly?” I ask, but I already know the answer. This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve woken up to new nannies on plenty of occasions. This is the only time I give a fuck about who is being replaced. Elody.

  I wait for her to answer. I could be wrong, but my turning stomach tells me I’m not.

  “I’m your new nanny, dear. I’m Agnes.”

  I’m already out of the kitchen, tearing ass down the hall to Elody’s room. There’s no way she’s really gone. I don’t stop at the door. I push it open and find nothing. There’s no evidence that she was ever even here. I check her bathroom, bedroom, and closet—nothing. She wouldn’t leave me like this!

  I sit on her bed and do my best to slow my racing heart. My eyes tear up, but I blink them away.

  “It’s a shame she left. I told her she could stay, but she said she’d already stayed much too long.”

  I look up to see my father leaning against the doorframe.

  “What do you mean she left?” I walk over to him. “She wouldn’t leave, not without saying goodbye. What did you do?” I match his stare with only a couple of feet between us. This smells of him. I know Elody, and she wouldn’t leave me without a word. She loves me.

  He shrugs. “Son, I didn’t do a thing to her. It seems she got a job with a nice, young family back east that was too good to be true. Since you turn eighteen in a few months, she didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity. At least, that’s what she told me.”

  I back away from him. “She left.” My body aches. This can’t be happening.

  ELODY

  2003

  THE MCALLISTER HOME is sweet and beautiful, and it takes everything I have to walk down the long path to the front door.

  Another mansion, but this one doesn’t hold the key to my heart inside its walls.

  It’s been two weeks since I’ve spoken to or seen August. I know his father is ruthless, and there is no way he told his son what really happened. He probably thinks it’s better that August believes I abandoned him and walked out the door without a single word. August is headstrong enough to hunt me down if he knows the truth, but this way, his father can ensure that hate will turn him against me.

  I ring the doorbell, and a tall, slender man opens the door. He’s dressed in a black tuxedo and has a fine, gray hair and a matching mustache.

  “Ms. Acosta, I presume,” he says in a heavy British accent. He opens the door wide for me to enter.

  “I am Niles. I see to the details in the McAlister home, which gives you plenty of time to see to the children.”

  I nod, smile, and wait for his next move. Half of me wants to run out the door, back down the path, hop in a car, and take the next flight to Aspen. I miss August so much—his sweet manner, his smile, and the way he looked at me like his world began and ended with me. I’ve never felt that with anyone in my life before. We’d made plans to move forward with our relationship.

  I still love him.

  An unknown amount of giggling children scramble toward me, pushing and jockeying for position. I make out at least three heads, maybe four. I take a deep breath and steady myself. There are four little girls from two to seven years old. They’re all full of excited energy and have heads full of curly red hair. Mrs. McAlister is right on their heels. Her hair is a similar shade of red, and her cheery blue eyes assess me as she trots over to me. Of course, Mr. Mitchell arranged for me to nanny girls.

  “Elody, so lovely to meet you. Mr. Mitchell spoke so highly of you.”

  Of course he did. She extends her hand to me and lines the girls up from oldest to youngest. “This is Melody, Lyric, Harmony, and Symphony. Say hello, girls.”

  The four girls practically tackle me to the floor with hugs. They’re very sweet, but theirs aren’t the arms I want around me.

  Mrs. McAllister asks me to call her Jane and informs me that her husband is a prominent attorney who spends most of his time traveling or working in the city. She takes me on a tour of the very spacious home. The Mitchell home was modern and sparsely decorated. This home is comfy and warm, even though it must be nearly eight thousand square feet.

  Jane takes me upstairs to the kids’ wing of the house where my room will be for the time that I’m here. There is a loft situated in the center, with several rooms surrounding it.

  Before she shows me my room, she takes me to the task board and my eyes widen. These girls could each use a nanny to shuffle them around to their activities. My initial reaction is to panic, then I realize this is exactly what I need. Distraction.

  AUGUST

  2010

  ELODY RUSHES DOWN THE stairs without looking back. I yell her name, but my voice is lost among the bodies and music. I lose her in the sea of red gowns. Fucking Valentine’s Day. I turn back to my father.

  “What did you do?” I demand.

  He shrugs. “What needed to be done.”

  I walk over and get in his face. He’s still in good shape, even though he’s in his early sixties. He matches my glare and my posture.

  “What the fuck did you do?” I ask again.

  He steps away, then turns back to look at me with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have relationships with the help, son. Sure, you fucked her, but then you actually fell in love. I got rid of her the second I found out that you are more like your mother than me.” His expression is grim, as if being like my mother is a bad thing. Egotistic bastard.

  I stalk over to him with my heart racing inside of me, then I push him hard. “What the fuck do you mean, you got rid of her?” I grab him by the shirt and pull him to me while I will back my tears. “You tell me what you did!”

  He pulls out of my grip and gets in my face, matching my escalating anger.

  “You little self-righteous prick. I saved you from yourself. That day that I caught the two of you, I could see it in your eyes. The way you wanted to protect her, I knew that it had gone too far. I knew you’d fallen for her.” A stupid smirk crosses his face and I want to slap it off. “Did you think I was going to let the bitch stay after that? The two of you holed away from the world playing house. You might have eventually knocked her up, then you’d be tied to her for life!” He backs away from me and leans against the railing. Suddenly, his body seems fatigued. His shoulders drop and he exhales a heavy breath, like this is so hard for him. What about the years I spent alone without dependable parents and without Elody? I hold my vitriol at bay and wait for him to continue.

  He looks at me. “So I ended it and made it so she’d never see you again. I threatened to take her livelihood from her if she came near you again. If she really loved you, she wouldn’t have left.” He smiles and straigh
tens his shirt and tie. “I even offered her money, but she had the nerve to reject my offer.”

  He pushes off the railing and attempts to walk away. I’m momentarily blinded by rage, and I punch my father in the face. He falls to one knee, and I bend down to his level.

  “Do you have any idea how much pain you caused us? She was all I had back then. She was more than the nanny, she was my family, and I was hers, and you just prolonged the inevitable because I will marry Elody. I will give her a home and maybe children that we will love and take care of the right way. You stupid old man, you didn’t stop anything. You didn’t ‘save me’ from a goddamned thing. Her love saved me from you. I fucking hate you.”

  He stares up at me, holding his chin. “You’re stupid if you think any of that will happen. You’re cut off.”

  I start to walk away. “I made my first million at seventeen without you. You’d know that if you were a real fucking parent.” I flip him off and rush out of the party.

  I can’t believe all of this time he was the reason she left. I spent years hating her and she was also a victim. We wasted so much time. I climb into the back seat of my sedan and give the driver directions to Portia’s place.

  I knock on the door hard and fast. The door flies open. Portia looks annoyed.

  I barge inside and pace. “Sorry,” I say. I didn’t grab my coat, and it’s brutal outside. “Where’s Elody?”

  “She’s not here, she was supposed to be at a party with you.”

  I rush out without a word. I have to find her. I can make this right. I wonder if that’s what she wanted to talk to me about? I have so many questions for her. Why would she let me think that she left me? She took so much punishment from me. Fuck.

  I drive to the bar, the coffee shop, and I call and text. Nothing. I ask the driver to take me home.

  We pull up in front of my house and there she is, a vision in red. Her head is on her knees, and she doesn’t have a coat. The image of her is painful and beautiful—love and pain.