Gorgeous: Book Two (The Goregous Duet 2)

by Lisa Shelby

  Besides Ronan, she was the only person who had known my story.

  Sitting on the little couch in my room, I pulled my knees up to my chest and dialed Alex. Yes, she made me promise to call once a week but I don't think she could have anticipated this call. I let myself break down again after the nitty gritty of all that had happened since our last call. When I told her how guilty I felt and I didn't know how I was ever going to make it up to Ronan, I lost it.

  "Olivia, stop beating yourself up. You may have made a mistake, but you didn't cause this to happen. Besides, you're the victim, remember?"

  "I know, Alex, but I swear this has been harder on Ronan."

  "Sweetie, I know you're a tough cookie, but I think you might still be in a little bit of shock. You were kidnapped, drugged, beaten, and used as a pawn. This has not been harder on Ronan."

  "Alex, if you could see him right now...he's a mess. He blames himself, and his pain, on top of everything else we've been through, is killing me."

  My sobs begin, and it takes a moment before I can get a deep enough breath to continue speaking.

  "It feels like yesterday I found and lost my mom only to lose Ronan two days later. A month of misery without him, the exhilaration of finding him and learning he hadn't really left me. Then the fear of knowing Dickey might have found me to the frustration of seeing Ronan with London and feeling like a prisoner. Throw in the last week and knowing I've caused him so much stress and pain, and I just don't know if I can take anymore without breaking, Alex."

  "Olivia, you've been through a lot."

  "I know. Too much!" I sob into the phone on a whisper so I don't wake him.

  "But you know what?"

  "What?" I sniffle and my breath shudders as I breathe like Ronan had me breathe earlier today, and it starts to calm me just like it did before.

  "You're alive, Olivia. You. Are. Freaking. Alive."

  For some reason, my reaction is a little giggle, and in an instant, I feel the slightest bit of hope and light. "I am."

  "That's right! What happened to you sucked! But you fucking rescued yourself and you escaped! Do you realize that? You beat that bastard again, and now he's finally behind bars! You were you're own super hero and saved yourself, but you know what's even better than that?"

  Smiling for the first time since Alex answered her phone, I indulge her. "What's that?"

  "You're knight in shining armor was there waiting to rescue you too. He was there to rescue you at the same moment you rescued yourself. He was there. For you."

  "He was."

  "He loves you. He was probably scared to death for you, and as if that wasn't enough in the process of trying to find you, he finds out his family betrayed him yet again. He quit the job he worked to get his entire life the same day you played your little prank on your bodyguard. His entire life has been flipped upside down, and the only good thing he has right now is you. Alive. Let him have the time he needs to get back to himself. He'll get there."

  My conversation with Alex was what I needed. A chance to let it all out but to also have her bring me back to the here and now. For her to remind me how lucky I was. After I hung up the phone, I walked over to the window to twist open the blinds, and there it was.

  Our moon.

  I opened the blinds just enough for the moonlight to spill into the room and made myself comfortable in the chair next to the bed. I sat there for a good two hours and simply watched him breathe. It's rare that it's me that gets to sit back and drink him in and it's nice to casually peruse his features without him catching me and ruining my admiration, because his beauty does defy reality.

  I took my time and watched his chest move up and down first. Watching him breathe was a luxury I never could have appreciated before I lost him the first time, but especially after almost losing him again and after having spent my nights back in his arms.

  I slowly dragged my gaze from his chest and up to his neck where his olive skin is the softest. His chiseled jawline was covered in the glow of the moonlight and a week’s worth of growth. His lips, which I love to kiss and live to hear say my name when we make love, were slightly parted as he slept off his days of trauma. Even with the proof of having been broken on more than one occasion, his nose was still perfect, as were his long ebony lashes that seemed to stretch all the way to his cheekbones. His hair was a mess and he still smelled like an ashtray, but he was my ashtray and he was magnificent inside and out.

  Eventually, I climbed back into the bed and back into his arms. The moment he felt me lay my head on his chest, his strong arms enveloped me and pulled me tight on instinct. He never woke and we both got our first real night of sleep.

  The next day in the hospital when Callie and Bellinger came for a visit, it was her positivity and zest for life that was the final thing I needed to get me back in the frame of mind I would need if I was going to pull Ronan back up to the surface.

  He needed me.

  We needed each other, and I was going to do whatever I could to take care of him.

  Of us.

  Callie didn't make me repeat my story to her again. Bellinger, or Ryan as I am supposed to call him now that he and Callie are officially a thing, had already filled her in. She asked how I was, and she was certainly supportive, but she also made a point to not only talk about my kidnapping. She talked about shop gossip and told me about her time with Ryan. Much to his dismay since he was right there, but you wouldn't know it the way she talked about him like he wasn't there at all.

  During one of the breaks in conversation, I finally got to do something I had been waiting to do since I had been taken.

  "Ryan, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I want you to know that I was going to get out of the penthouse if it was the last thing I did, and I would have found a way whether it was you or the guys on the night shift. I am so sorry I tricked you the way I did and caused you so much stress. I hope you know that I never meant for you to get in trouble, and I can admit I was only thinking of myself and for that, I am truly sorry."

  I could see him take inventory of my face, and he knew I'd already been punished, and he didn't need to add to my pain. "Miss Adams..."

  "Please, call me Olivia."

  "Okay, Olivia. I'll admit I was pretty pissed and embarrassed at first, but none of that compares to what you've been through, and I am so sorry we let you down. Yes, you got one over on me with your over-flowing toilet, nice one by the way, but the whole team felt like they let you down. We should have found you, we didn't do our jobs, and for that we are truly sorry."

  "Nah, you guys are great at your jobs. There just weren't enough of you to cover all the exits, and I won that round." I looked around the small area of my bed and at myself. "Okay, maybe I didn't win this round, but you know what I mean. I say we blame Baxter and Ronan. They should have forked out more dough to pay for more men."

  I winked, and it hurt, but Ryan smiled.

  "Well, me and the guys are just real glad you're back and are gonna be okay."

  The door to my room swung open, and Ronan walked in with a white Tommy's Joynt bag and a drink carrier with two coffees. He still hadn't left the hospital and had met the delivery guy in the main entrance lobby. That was the farthest he had been from my side and the longest he had been out of my room. He showered in my little bathroom and Evelyn brought him fresh clothes, but he never left my side.

  "So, who do we have here?" Callie crooned when the man she had heard so much about finally made his entrance.

  "Ah, you must be the notorious Callie of Callie's Coffee." He set down our coffees and food on the little table next to my bed and reached over me to offer his hand. "It's so nice to meet Olivia's new friend. I've heard a lot about you."

  "I've heard a lot about you too. I'm glad to hear that I'm not to believe what the tabloids have to say. You're a lucky man. I was all prepared to kick some millionaire ass, but it turns out you were just doing what you thought was right. And you..." She turns her heated glare in my direction.r />
  Me, the one with stitches in my head. I'm in trouble now?

  "The next time you're given the option of your man playing along with a blackmail scheme that involves another woman getting her greasy little hands all over him for the whole world to see, find another solution. The two of you and your decision making...Don't get me started...I swear..."

  Ryan stepped up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear.

  "I'm sorry, you two. You've been through enough. I'm just glad you're back, and I can't wait to celebrate once you’re feeling better."

  Whoa. Ryan is the Callie Whisperer. That was something else.

  She was right, though. We both made the wrong decisions, even though we thought we were doing what we had to do. There is something about Callie and her energy that rubs off on you, and hers did that day. I wanted to channel her feistiness and mix it up with the strength I got from Alex the night before.

  I've got Ronan, and I've got some pretty cool friends. I can get through this and anything else that comes my way. Now, if I can just get my man back. Yes, he holds me every night when we go to sleep, but he still hasn't made love to me. He handles me as though I might shatter and break under his touch when all I really need is to be consumed by him.

  I've tried to instigate sex, but I think he has a hard time looking at my stitches. I try to wear my hair in a way that hides the stitches on my head, but the ones on my face are harder to hide.

  We had been home for about a week when I pulled Baxter aside and told him how concerned I was. I didn't tell him about our lack of sex, but I did ask him if he had noticed the change in Ronan as well and of course, he had.

  He said that even though he didn't say it out loud, Ronan still blamed himself. "Olivia, I'm sure most of time he looks at you, and he is filled with the utmost relief and appreciation that you're back but also the reminders of what happened to you. Give him some time. You're healing nicely, and the bruising is improving. He loves you. We just need to give him some time."

  Time.

  Easier said than done.

  All I want is to go back in time.

  Back to our two weeks in Laguna.

  Our time at Eclipse.

  We were so happy and the outside world couldn't touch us there. I need to find a way to get us back to that. I don't think staying holed up here at Franklin Street is doing the trick. I have to remind myself he is also no longer getting up and going to EVC every day. He may have me back, but in the process, he has lost his family and his daily integration with his colleagues, whom he treated like family.

  I know it's only been two weeks but I've hatched a plan I hope will set us on the right path to getting back to us.

  To bringing Ronan back to me.

  Evelyn has been my partner in crime with the planning, and I just hope I'm doing the right thing. I hope it isn't too much for him.

  But, I have to do something.

  Besides, it's his birthday. It's time to celebrate.

  "Olivia, are you ready?” Ronan asks, coming into the bedroom. “Are you sure you feel like going out?"

  "I was born ready; besides, I'm getting a little bit of cabin fever. I think dinner will be good for both of us. Get us out of the house for a while."

  "If it's what you need, then it sounds great to me too."

  He doesn't mean it.

  He's only agreeing to make me happy.

  This is what he does.

  It's one of the many reasons I love him.

  "I think it's what we both need. Now, tell me I look pretty, and let’s go. Baxter's waiting for us."

  He smiles and I swear I might just see the tiniest glimmer of light in his eyes. "Gorgeous, you do look beautiful. You always do. I'm sorry if I haven't told you that enough lately. I know I've been in my head a lot, and I'm sorry about that."

  Pulling me into his arms, he gives me one of his sweet forehead kisses and as much as I love them, it's not what I need from him right now. I need more of him.

  I need all of him.

  "Don't sweat it. I just hope you can get out of that handsome head of yours long enough to have some fun tonight."

  He steps back with my hands in his, and the light I thought I saw in his eyes is nowhere to be found. "Have I been that bad?"

  "I just miss you. I miss us." I step back into him and trail my finger down his chest and gently pull on his tie. "If you know what I mean?"

  "Olivia..."

  "Shh...it's time to go."

  18

  Ronan

  "Shh...it's time to go," she purrs as my tie slides through her fingers, and she seductively walks away.

  Her hips sway, and her sultry side is on full display. She stops in the doorway of the bedroom, and looking over her shoulder with her long chestnut waves cascading down her back, she purrs one more time. "Come on, baby."

  My little vixen is making her intentions clear. I know she's noticed that we haven't made love since we've been home from the hospital, and I know what she's up to. I know what she wants.

  It's incomprehensible to me that she could think I don't want her, but I know that's what she's thinking. I want her every minute of every day, but every time I look at her, I see the damage caused because of me. I see the moment I let my emotions get the best of me, and I outed her, and our relationship, at that God-damned gala. That was the moment that set everything in motion.

  The moment that was the prequel to the thirty-two stitches in her head.

  The moment that would lead her to the black and blue bruises still healing on her face.

  The evidence of the violence that occurred.

  Tonight, her hair hides the stitches along her scalp and temple, and what's left of the bruises on her ethereal face are covered by the subtle placement of makeup, but I know they're there.

  But tonight, I need to stop wallowing in my guilt and self-pity and be present for her. It's clear she's feeling better and getting past all of this faster than I am. If the woman I share my moon with wants a night out, then a night out she will have.

  Following her down the stairs is helping my mood considerably.

  There is a bounce in those black stilettos of hers tonight, and I can tell she's feeling sassy.

  Olivia, is a dress and heels kind of woman, but tonight her heels are a little taller and her always classy, little black dress is just a little shorter and a little lower cut than usual. She's making her intentions crystal clear and as enticing as she is, I'm just not sure I'm ready.

  That I'm worthy.

  Five steps in front of me, she stops in the middle of the winding staircase, and when she turns with a seductive smile to beat all smiles, I feel my heart skip a beat. But when those breathtaking brown eyes latch on to mine, I feel my love for her reach all the way into my soul.

  A simple smile and my world is complete.

  Everything.

  She is my everything.

  It sounds simple and overly romantic, even in my own head, but it's the only word I can find that even comes close to describing how I feel about her.

  Everything.

  I reach her perch on the stairs but take one step past her so when I turn around, we're face to face. I put my hands in my pockets, because all I want to do is reach under that short little Audrey Hepburn-inspired dress and find out what I'dbe greeted with if I were to fill my hands with her perfect ass.

  As much as I know she's telling me she wants me to touch her with her actions, I need her to actually tell me when she's ready.

  "I hear it's gonna be a full moon tonight."

  "Is that so?"

  "It is."

  "Well, I know how you like a good view of the moon."

  "Not just any moon, Ronan. Our moon."

  "God, I love you."

  "I love you too, handsome, but we really do need to go. I made reservations, and I don't want to be late."

  "It's only four forty-five, gorgeous. Where in the world are we headed?" I finally feel safe enough to take
my hands out of my pockets. I swear I could feel her skin covered in lace in my hands, just thinking about finding my way under her dress. It's a good thing we have reservations and we need to go.

  "It's a surprise, babe. I know how you like to be in charge, Mr. McKinley, but not tonight. Tonight, I'm in charge."

  As if her sass wasn't enough to make me take her upstairs to the bedroom, she has to throw in one of her Mr. McKinleys, and it's a miracle I don't take her right here on the stairs. Baxter and reservations be damned.

  But, as she said...she's in charge tonight. I'll follow her lead and see where she takes us.

  She takes my hand, and we finish our way down the stairs where we find Baxter waiting in the entry for us.

  He doesn't have his usual black suit, white shirt, and black-tie uniform on tonight, though. He's still in a suit, but it's dark gray, and it looks more like a suit he would wear on a night out on his off time.

  "You're looking dapper tonight, Baxter." I can't help but comment.

  "You know, I have my moments.” He shrugs. “Are you two ready to go?"

  "We are. Thank you, Drew."

  It warms my heart to hear Olivia call Baxter by his first name. To see the little family of friends we're creating. Baxter, Ben, and Richie have always been my closest friends, but it took Olivia for me to realize how much I care about these men and that they truly are my family.

  Her casualness with my head of security and best friend makes me smile.

  We head out to the black SUV and climb inside. Once we've pulled out of the driveway and are headed down the road, I'm confused when we don't head downtown. I'm not sure where we're going, and I want nothing more than to ask, but she's already made it clear she's not going to tell me.

  "We're almost there, and it looks like we're going to be right on time," Baxter says from the front seat.

  I see them smile at each other in the rear-view mirror, and it's becoming more than obvious there is more than regular dinner reservations involved in the evenings plans. If the time of day, Baxter's suit, and the fact that we're now pulling onto the tarmac at the San Francisco airport weren't enough, the small private jet waiting for us would be. And if my eyes don't deceive me, Evelyn is standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to said private jet.