by L. D. Davis
“Get rid of your whore and meet me in the living room,” the asshole said coldly and walked out.
“Who’s the asshole?” I demanded as I pulled my shirt back on.
Kyle pulled his own shirt on and looked at me somberly.
“That asshole is my dad.”
*~~~*
I stood just inside the bedroom door listening to the escalating argument in the living room. It had been ten minutes since father and son began yelling at one another. I thought Kyle had a bad temperament, but his father reminded me of a fire-breathing dragon.
“I don’t want her and I’m fucking done pretending that I do!” Kyle yelled.
“This isn’t just about you! Martin Venner has every intention of handing that business to Jess—your marriage would have ensured——”
“My life is not a fucking business transaction, Walter!” Kyle roared. “This isn’t just about you getting their business. You think that I don’t know the shit you’ve done!”
There was a moment of silence and then Walter asked, “It was you? You’re the one screwing with my accounts?”
“Yes it was me,” Kyle said and then roared once again. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you realize how much shit this company is in because of your greedy actions!”
“You told Emmy,” Walter yelled. “That bitch would love to destroy me!”
“The only thing she knows is that you’re a cheating, dishonest, asshole, Dad. I didn’t tell her any of the details.”
“You’re lying! She specifically said that she knew I was doing bad business! Where would she have heard that, Kyle?”
“You paid her a bribe, Walter! It doesn’t take a genius to understand that isn’t the first shitty thing you’ve done!”
A bribe? Why would Emmy take a bribe? She had plenty of her own money.
“Who else knows?”
“It doesn’t matter! I didn’t throw you under the fucking bus if that’s what you want to know. I’ve been cleaning up your fucking mess as quietly as possible, risking my own neck.”
“I guess I should thank you,” Walter said very reluctantly.
“I’m not doing it for you,” Kyle spat. “I don’t care about you.”
“Fine. You don’t give a shit about me and I don’t give a shit about you, but you better go fix this thing with Jessyca.”
“Jess can go to hell,” Kyle said through a clenched jaw.
“Obviously you learned what you did from Jess. So you know she can make this entire thing blow up in our faces.”
“I’m done caring! I lost everything trying to fix this and I’m done!”
“You haven’t begun to lose, you ungrateful bastard,” Walter said in a threatening growl. “I should have never claimed you as my son. No son of mine would be such a fuck up. I should have let your mother run off with the fucking loser that fathered you.”
Oh shit!
“I’ll keep that in mind when the FBI comes knocking.”
I heard some shuffling and grunting and the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh. I ran from the room and nearly froze when I found Walter pushing Kyle around and throwing punches at him. What gave me pause was that Kyle was not fighting back. He blocked what he could but he was allowing himself to get his ass kicked.
What the hell!
“Stop!” I yelled, running into the room. I ran full force into Walter, shoving him so hard he fell back onto the dining room table. “Get out of here!” I yelled even though it wasn’t my home.
Kyle grabbed me around the waist and pulled me away from his faux father. Walter stood upright. He was glaring at me, but he spoke to Kyle.
“Nice guard dog,” he said. He walked past us to the door. “You’re fired for illegal drug usage and fucking your assistant,” he said to Kyle. “You’re banned from the estate and I will find a way to cut your ass off.”
“I don’t doubt that you will,” Kyle said dryly. “Now get out and leave your key.”
Walter reached into his pocket and then threw a key on the floor before slamming the door.
Kyle released me and I spun around to look at him. His mouth was bleeding again and there were bruises forming on his cheek. His right eye was already turning colors and starting to swell. This time I pulled off my own shirt to hold to his lip.
“Why didn’t you fight back?” I asked as I led him to a chair. I made him sit down and hurried into the kitchen to make him an icepack. I almost felt let down that he didn’t fight back. I never believed Kyle Sterling to be someone’s little bitch to beat up on. Not even close.
“I wanted him to get it out of his system,” he said when I returned with the icepack. I carefully put it over his eye and held it there.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He won’t go home and beat the shit out of my mother instead,” he said darkly as he stared straight ahead.
I felt like he had just punched me in the chest. While this was new to me, it most likely was not a new development in the Sterling family. Most likely Kyle had been witnessing such behavior since he was a child and probably experienced a good deal of beatings himself.
“Even if I knew that beforehand, I’m not sure if I would have been able to just stand there and watch him do that to you,” I admitted reluctantly. I felt sick knowing that it was a possibility Walter Sterling had not finished getting “it out of his system” and he would finish with his wife.
In well under twenty-four hours, I had learned that Kyle had beaten Emmy, but he couldn’t remember it because he was high and drunk. He was an addict, still struggling to stay clean. He had a brother that died as a child and Kyle believed he was responsible. His father was defrauding some people. Kyle couldn’t dump Jess and commit to the woman he really loved because he was trying to fix the mess and keep Jess from bringing it to light. Walter Sterling was an abusive husband and clearly an abusive parent, but apparently he was only Kyle’s parent in name only because Kyle was fathered by someone else.
It was a lot to learn about a man who seemed to live a fairly private life. I was never meant to know any of it, but now that I did, I didn’t know what to do with it. It should have been a clear indication that he had too much going on in his life, and now with his faux father out to destroy him, things weren’t going to get any easier anytime soon. I had my own problems and demons to fight and skeletons in my closet. I wasn’t sure if I could be helpful, if he even wanted my help. We had made out, but it didn’t mean he wanted anything more from me.
Kyle slid a hand over my hip and down to my front pocket. He slipped his hand into the pocket and pulled out my cell phone.
“What’s your password?” he asked in a dead voice.
“Um. Anna.” When he looked up at me with discerning eyes, I looked away.
“Who’s Anna?”
I gave a small shake of my head. I didn’t want to talk about it, at least not right then. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to discuss anything as serious as Anna with him. I was sure he was going to be done with me soon enough. I didn’t want to waste the pain it would cost me to tell that tale for someone who was probably already losing interest in me, and someone who had enough of his own problems at the moment.
Kyle sighed and then unlocked my phone. He quickly dialed a number. I heard a woman answer on the third ring.
“Eliza, it’s Kyle,” he said and then stood up, disregarding the icepack. He tossed my t-shirt onto the chair he had just vacated. “Remember what we spoke about before I went on leave?” he asked her as he walked away from me.
Kyle went into business mode, talking to this Eliza person. He went into the guest room where his office was set up. The desk was covered in files that he was rooting through as I walked by to go find a shirt that didn’t have blood all over it.
I felt disgusting still wearing the same clothes I put on twenty-four hours before. I stepped into Kyle’s walk-in closet and was surprised by how organized it was. On one side his suits were arranged by color, as were his dress shirts.
The other side held more casual clothes, also color coordinated. His shoes were arranged by type—dress, casual, and athletic. I took a more casual button down, blue shirt and then took a pair of boxers from a bureau in the bedroom. Judging by the snippets of conversation I was hearing from the other room, he was going to be awhile. I went into the master bath, stripped out of my day old clothes, and started the shower.
I honestly didn’t know how Kyle was going to feel about me rooting through his closet and drawers and subsequently borrowing his clothes, but when our little moment of time together ended, and I knew it would, I at least wanted to be wearing clean underwear. Even if they weren’t mine.
As I washed my hair with his shampoo, I tried to think of my week ahead and all of the things I had to do at SHOTZ and not about my morning in bed with Kyle or all of the things I learned about him. I tried to think about the alcohol I had to order, the upcoming inspection with the fire marshal, and the major scrub down the place needed, and not about Kyle’s tongue in my mouth and his hands cupping my breasts. I tried to focus on the event I was having at the bar on Valentine’s Day that would benefit local cancer patients, and not the fact that all of the things I had learned about Kyle not only didn’t truly repel me, but made me feel a little deeper for him. He reminded me of a lost little boy who had been very ill behaved and now he was just trying to redeem himself but no one noticed or cared.
But it didn’t matter what I thought or what I felt. Even though he wanted to kiss me so badly, I knew it wasn’t really about me. As he said himself, he was fucked up in the head, and I didn’t disagree. After his faux father’s visit, there was no disputing that. He was fucked up in the head pre-Emmy, but I believe he went over the edge when he beat her and he was still in the pit he had fallen into. I was just another warm body who happened to be occupying the same space with him. I was replaceable and forgettable.
I didn’t want to have to have that uncomfortable conversation, about how he was sorry he made a mistake, etc. I already knew it was a mistake, but I didn’t need it said to my face. After I got out of the shower, I quickly dressed in Kyle’s clothes and pulled my own jeans back on. I found a small plastic bag under the sink, stuffed my bloody shirt and day old underwear inside, and tied it tight. I opened the bathroom door half expecting to find Kyle sitting on the bed, but he wasn’t there. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, I listened for him. I didn’t hear his voice, but I heard the clicking of a keyboard in the guest room. I was half tempted to leave my phone behind, but I needed it.
Kyle sat in the guestroom with his back to me, typing madly on the keyboard. My phone was a few inches from the laptop. I left the bag with my clothes outside the door and walked in.
“Are you finished with this?” I asked him as I picked up the phone.
He nodded without even giving me a glance or pausing in his typing.
“Your keys are in the freezer,” I said as I crossed the room.
He didn’t answer or give any indication that he had heard me, but I knew he did. I left the room, grabbing my bag along the way. I went into the kitchen and took his keys out of the freezer. I put them on the end table next to the couch. I thought about leaving a note, but what could I possibly say? There was nothing to say. I was sorry for his problems, especially his family problems, but there was nothing I could do. He let me in briefly, but he was already shutting me out. I didn’t want to be that girl, trying to save someone who didn’t want me to save him. I wasn’t trying to test Kyle, but if he really wanted me or my friendship, he knew where to find me.
I took my jacket out of the closet and slipped quietly out of Kyle’s life.
Chapter Three
A year and a half later…
Kyle
“I wish you never found me in the bar.”
Emmy stood with her back to me, looking out of the large window at the far off Philadelphia skyline. I knew she was trying to put some distance between us, but I didn’t care as I approached her from behind. I inhaled the scent of her hair. It reminded me of vanilla and cherries, a sweet smell that invaded my senses and made me want to tangle my hands in her hair and pull her to me and let her feel the affect that she had on me.
“If it wasn’t there, it would have been somewhere else,” I said in her ear as my hands slipped down her sides and rested on her hips.
I felt her tense under my hands. I knew if I ran my thumb across her nipple or slipped my hand into her jeans, she would yield to me. If I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her slender neck, her stubborn will would break and she would be mine forever. I wanted her to want me without me seducing her into it, but being so close to her was almost too much to take after such a long absence. I was just about to pull her up against me, but she suddenly moved away.
“I should go,” she said and speed walked to her enormous pocketbook.
“Emmy,” I said, closely following her. I caught a hold of her wrist just as she reached the door. It was the same wrist I broke two years ago. The thought made me sick to my stomach, but I quickly pushed it out of my mind. I had to remind her of what we had, how much she used to want me, and how much I still wanted her.
“I can’t deal with losing you again,” I said to her. “What do you want me to do?” I would have done anything for her to keep her. I would have given up anything.
She looked up at me, her mouth slightly parted and a confused and pained look in her eyes.
“I don’t think…” she shook her head as she stared at me with her beautiful brown and green blended eyes.
“Nothing I can do?” I asked. “We just had a really nice night. I know you don’t really mean that. You had a good time.”
“I did, but…” She blinked hard, trying hard to look away from me. “It’s not enough,” she whispered.
I knew she was still struggling with her feelings for me. I could feel it in my soul. If I had to seduce her to make her break through those walls, then so be it.
“Kiss me,” I said, leaning in close to her.
“No,” she said, but it wasn’t as firmly as she probably meant it to be.
She tried to move away, but I grabbed her shoulders. Yeah, I was out of line, but I had been out of line since the first time I kissed her.
“Kiss me, and then if you still want to walk out of the door, I will let you,” I said.
“I can’t,” she whispered, but made no effort to get away from me.
“Because you know how it will make you feel,” I said. I used my own body to press hers up against the door. I pressed my erection against her thigh, not far from her heated core. “You want to kiss me, though. Don’t you?” I whispered.
I moved in slowly, preparing to taste her lips and sweet mouth again. It’s something I ached for every day for nearly two years. As a last ditch effort, Emmy closed her mouth tight. I flicked my tongue across her bottom lip and almost groaned.
“Open,” I demanded and tried to part her lips with my tongue. I growled low in my throat, growing frustrated and harder with her refusal to give me what we both needed. “Open your fucking mouth. You want to kiss me,” I said. “Open.”
When she still didn’t open her precious lips, I decided on a different route. Moving quickly, I put my hand up her skirt and was immediately rewarded with her damp pussy and engorged clit. She gasped and I stole the opportunity to finally get my tongue into that luscious mouth. I heard a low groan escape from her throat, and knew that I had her—until with strength I never knew her to have, she shoved my hand away from her and turned her head, releasing herself from our kiss.
“You want me,” I whispered in her ear. Again, I thought she was folding, but again I was wrong.
“I didn’t come here for this!” she screamed as she shoved me away from her.
A sudden burst of anger boiled up to the surface of my own lips. Why the fuck did she come here if she didn’t want what I wanted? Did she come here just to tease me?
“Then what did you come here for?” I yelled at her. “Di
d you think that we could just pretend that nothing ever happened between us?” I closed the distance between us, trying to calm down. “I know you love me, Emmy,” I said.
I reached out to touch her, and she almost let me, but with a pained expression on her face, she shoved me away again.
“You hurt me!” she screamed. “You put your hands on me and you hurt me.”
“I was fucked up on drugs, Emmy. I’m sorry. I don’t even remember it,” I said, as if not remembering it was a viable excuse for my actions.
“It’s not just the drugs and the abuse, Kyle. You weren’t strong enough to stand up to your dad and to Jessyca.”
“But I eventually did!” Even in my ears, I knew I sounded like a little boy saying that.
“Eventually was not soon enough, Kyle,” she said bitterly. She reached into her house-sized bag and produced the bracelet I had given her after she had her cast removed. She thrust it at me, but I stepped back from her, as if the thing was poisonous.
“That was a gift. I don’t want it back.” Somehow, it felt like taking back the bracelet would sever us forever. Sever everything, all of our feelings, all of our memories, all of us.
“You need to take it back,” she demanded. “This is why I’m here. I’ve been holding onto it, in essence holding on to you. I have to let you go.”
I could tell that it pained her to say that. She didn’t really want to let me go…did she?
“You don’t have to,” I said, feeling hopeful that she would agree.
“What do you expect me to do, Kyle? Tear my son away from his father and move into your shiny new apartment with you? Tear him away from his family and everything he knows? Is that what you want? It probably is, Kyle, because you don’t give two shits about the aftermath when you get what you want. You smooth talk your way into getting things your way and then when it gets too fucking hard you duck out or shove some meth up your nose. You beat me and you could have killed me and Lucas. That broke me. I will never be with you again.”
She shook the bracelet in my face. I was too sickened by her words to move.
