The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2)

by Courtney Lane

  I pressed my lips together and did as she asked, feeling slightly violated while doing so. She slipped the probe inside of me.

  As she shot off a stream of questions, she painfully moved the probe around. I avoided looking at the screen, but Eric seemed glued to it.

  “Stop,” he said abruptly, startling Dr. Savine and me. He crouched across my body and pointed to a dark area on the flat screen monitor. It looked like nothing in particular to me. I did catch one small white unsteady mass on the monitor.

  Eric and Dr. Savine had a brief conversation through a dramatic eye exchange. The look on Eric’s face didn’t exactly read as contentment; it was concern.

  She removed the probe and set it on the metal table. “I’ll get my nurse to take her vitals again,” Dr. Savine nodded to Eric and left us alone.

  “Nikki,” Eric drawled out my name, having trouble keeping his voice at a soft level, “have you been spotting?”

  “She asked me the question once before. Didn’t you hear my answer?”

  His eyes turned cold as he stared at me. “This time I want you to tell me the truth.”

  “A little bit…sporadically.”

  He furrowed his brow. “How much is a little bit?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think hard, Nikki,” he pressed with impatience.

  “Not exactly a conversation I want to have—”

  “Can you recall for a moment that I’m actually a doctor? How much have you been spotting?”

  “I…soaked a panty liner once, but I didn’t know I was pregnant. I thought I was having a weird period.”

  Dropping his chin to his chest, he took a long, noisy exasperated breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. Turning his back on me, he cranked his neck as if preparing for a fight and looked fixedly at the clerestory window. “How long ago?”

  “Two and a half weeks ago.”

  He turned on his heels with his brows casting a dark shadow over his eyes. “And why did you keep this information from me?”

  Using my elbows, I scooted up and tried to sit upright.

  “Did you want to miscarry?”

  Remaining silent, my gaze fell to my lap, but still had a clear view of Eric’s face, full of vexation. “I didn’t know I was pregnant then.”

  On the verge of Eric looking as though he wanted to explode, the nurse came in to take my blood pressure again. Eric’s skin-tone turned a little more on the rosy side as he pressed his lips together.

  “One-forty over eighty-two,” the nurse said.

  “From now on, you’re on bed rest,” Eric hissed at me.

  “I—”

  “Nikki, don’t speak.” He glanced at the nurse. “Is she in her office?”

  The nurse nodded. “She’s would like to chat with you.”

  “Meet me in the car,” Eric shot over his shoulder as he left.

  “Does it matter to anyone that I’m the patient and should know what’s going on?” I asked to the air.

  “I’m used to it, Mrs. Brenton,” the nurse in rainbow print scrubs told me. “Doctors. They have this secret little club that no one can get into. They scratch each other’s backs quite a bit. I’ll see what I can find out to tell you.” She gave me a firm smile and disappeared.

  She never returned to tell me what was going on. Neither did Eric.

  “CAN I GET you anything else, sir?” asked the bartender who’d been paying too much attention to me and not enough to the drunkard at the other end of the bar who wouldn’t shut the fuck up about his ex-wife. She slanted forward, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. She gave me a smile to acknowledge my very, very short glance.

  Normally, I would’ve flirted to provoke her, and eventually entertain myself. She was too dense and boring for anything more; besides, I wasn’t in the mood. “No,” I said simply and downed the last of my whiskey, using my left hand to flash my wedding band.

  Her smile grew brighter. Great…she was one of those women.

  “I know you think the challenge of fucking a married man and making him leave his wife would be exciting, but can I tell you something? You’ll never get a chance. Not in this lifetime, or the next, sweetheart.”

  “But this could be your third lifetime. Besides, if you were happy, you wouldn’t be sitting in a bar alone, staring at my tits.” She stroked her hands across her cleavage. “They’re great aren’t they?”

  I gawked at her idiocy. It can get a little mundane being able to figure out people so easily. Without opening their mouths, I know the exact path to get them to do whatever I wanted. In my adult life, only two people had thrown me off.

  “They should be better,” I stated, with a contemptuous smile, readying her for my insult. “The doctor who did your surgery was a back-room quack who overcharged you for the misshapen saline bags you call tits.”

  Her jaw dropped in a way that made my smile widen.

  I lied. Fucking with her made me feel a little better.

  Appalled, she slapped her hand down on the bar and did something a little more productive with her time.

  What did she expect? Her creep-show tits could barely move any man’s cock.

  The man I was waiting for finally came up to the stool next to mine. “My office door is open, my friend.”

  I followed Preston to the back and slipped into the leather tufted chair behind his executive sized desk.

  “You were weaving there a bit,” he said, maintaining his shit-eating grin. “Everything all right on the home front?”

  I wanted to punch the fucking smile from his face. After working my way back to my calm, I remembered why I never put him into a coma; he got off on that shit. He never fought back any time I made him eat his teeth. Not that he would’ve won if he ever attempted to give me resistance. Reason number two: His godfather was Victor Meíja. The people I respected enough to grant my loyalty to were few and far between. Victor was high on the list for a good reason. There was a third minor detail that didn’t deserve a number. Preston had a dark side to rival my own. Okay…maybe a little less of a dark side.

  Preston. How could I describe all the things I’d done to Preston? He claimed his cock only swung one way, but I knew otherwise. He’d been in denial about his sexuality as long as I’d known him. He continued to fuck women in an attempt to convince himself of his sexual orientation. He didn’t truly begin to question himself until I gave him the opportunity to indulge in what he really wanted. One night, I got him high and drunk off his ass. Casper was in town at the time and ready to hump my floor. The entire purpose of the event was to bring Preston’s feelings for me to light. And bring out the truth it did.

  Unfortunately, Casper caught feelings for Preston. I fixed it, of course; I was the reason Casper had someone in his life to call a husband. Preston eventually married some bitch from “old money” and turned Estelle’s world on its ass, exactly as I wanted.

  Should also mention I’m the reason Preston met his wife. I let her give me head at a get-together many years ago. To this day, she salivates every time she sees me, expecting something in return. She ranked as number three on the worst cock-sucker list. I used to have a rule (one of many) if a girl sucked me off within minutes of our initial meeting—and she did it with little to no coercion—it was the first and last thing she would do for me.

  Besides which, the woman didn’t have any interesting qualities to keep me amused. I convinced Preston’s mother she and Preston needed this woman in their lives. Preston, being the mama’s boy he is, agreed.

  He continued to be in denial about his feelings for me because he’s, well, a dumbfuck. He never questioned all the things he’d done and continued to do for me. He, like Tamala before him, was a traveling doormat. He frequently lied to himself about the reason he followed me around. It wasn’t Estelle. It was never about Estelle.

  How could I say that? Because he contributed to her demise and watched her end her life. He was damn near giddy about watching it. He called me soon after the deed
was done to boast about it and give me a play-by-play. Ever the loyal servant, he expected me to nut over his to-the-letter obedience. He was a replaceable tool, never an asset.

  He’d done—and continued to do—a lot of things to get my attention. He’ll be in denial until the day he dies. I’d hoped it would happen on it’s own accord before he started fucking with Nikki. I could threaten him and tell him to stay away, but there was only one way to get Preston away from something he really wanted: Death.

  Death would have to wait until I could cut through the red tape and convince Victor to let me kill Preston. However, repenting for his disrespect toward me wouldn’t wait.

  For now, I had another purpose for him—to be an intermediary. But if pushed, I would do what I really fucking wanted to do if I was a person who reacted on anger against people of a minor importance instead of following calculated steps.

  However, his usefulness only pardoned him from one thing: I wouldn’t kill him, but I would make sure he was reminded of a few things. Nikki was with him…alone—possibly inside—what was now our home. That does not go down without painful repercussions handed down to the guilty party.

  The cocky expression Preston wore grated on the dissolving thin line standing between being calm or busting up his bar while killing him in the process.

  The second he sat down, I leaned across his desk, drew back my arm and broke his fucking nose.

  Feeling his nasal bone crack under my fist and watching the blood gush down his philtrum made me feel immediately better. I thumbed the remote on his desk and flipped on a sports channel, turning up the loud roar of the crowd for a basketball game.

  Preston picked up a few tissues from his desk and held it to his bleeding nose.

  “Tampons work better.”

  “I’m sure,” he mumbled, his eyes watering.

  “I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to be,” I said with a shrug, “because I might be tempted to make you choke on your small intestines while I feed them to you for breaking a promise to me about staying away from my wife. So…let’s get to the reason I’m here. I never ask for favors and I’m not going to start now.” I leaned forward with my legs spread.

  Preston lolled back in his seat. “There are only so many times I can get my nose fixed before they will have to rebuild it.”

  “Not my fucking problem. Stay on topic, Preston.”

  He jammed a tissue up his nose and nodded. “I’ve heard about your troubles with Roy. He’s been quiet, hasn’t he?” He spoke under the volume of the television, like someone with sense enough to know when shit hit the fan.

  “I need it to stay that way.”

  “I always told you, you picked the wrong profession. My godfather would love to have you work under him—doing more than freelance work for him.”

  “Won’t happen.”

  He wrestled the tissues out of his nose and tossed them in the garbage can beside his desk. Folding his arms across his chest, he gave me his full attention. “Is that why you came to me instead of him? You want me to be your go-between?” He shook his head as his grin deepened enough to put me on edge.

  I leaned forward, glowering. “Can you get it done or not?”

  “Sure…but there will be a different price this time. I’ve done quite a few favors for you within the past year. Pretending to be smitten with Estelle. Fucking her over by marrying the bullhorn of a woman my mother nearly wet herself about. The game we played with her to get her where you wanted her—to make her think I actually wanted anything to do with her. Garnering those men along with Dom to bring Tamala closer to her end—”

  “Are you done rehashing history? I’d say you are, because nothing you’ve done for me should be classified as a favor. You were a very good pet. A good pet does everything his master tells him to do. Now, it would be great if you could get to your goddamn point. I’m feeling a little jumpy.”

  The smugness took over as he opened his mouth to finally get to his point. “I want to fuck your wife, and I want you to watch.”

  Standing now, I walked around the desk and dragged him, stomach down, over it by his tie. When he tried to laugh, I clutched his tie tighter, tightening it around his neck until he began to choke out his words. “On second thought. I won’t be greedy. It’s completely okay if you join in. It’ll be like old times.”

  “I’m only going to say this once,” I warned through clenched teeth. “My wife is off limits to you…permanently. If you ever ask me if you can fuck her again—”

  “You’ll what? My nose is already broken.” Touching his nose, he drew back more blood. “Face it, you can’t take care of Roy on your own. He’s under heavy federal guard. They are going to keep laying on him until he spills everything. He is a ticking time bomb. How much does your wife mean to you if you won’t do everything you can to avoid going to jail, and leave her all alone and vulnerable?

  “She’ll be all by her lonesome with a baby. I recall the things Estelle said about her. She would probably kill herself and your baby with her if you left her with no one there to look after her and take your place. I can see it in her eyes. She is a very special kind of fucked up. I bet she tastes sweet. Psychotic women always have the sweetest tasting pussies, don’t they? You should see yourself, Eric. You’re so lost in her, it’s almost sad. Eric…made weak by a woman addicted to cutting and suicide attempts. Never thought I’d—”

  Grabbing him by the throat, I threw him back, causing him to stagger. I took a hold of his hair and slammed his head against the desk until it cracked. “Preston,” I started in a low voice, my mood under my complete control again. “Don’t assume because our cocks accidentally touched while we were double-penetrating Estelle that it’s love between us.” I shook him; it was clear in the way his entire face sank. “I won’t lie,” I whispered, “I’ve imagined shoving a cock in your mouth a time or two, and making you choke on it.”

  He blinked at me in awe. “You’re fucking with me,” he nearly gasped, his eyes brightening at the prospect.

  “I didn’t say it would be mine. It would more than likely be your cock, shoved down your throat, after I cut it from your body. You and I will never act out the wet dream that soaks your bed every morning. I love Nikki’s pussy. She’s always so wet and tight around my cock. And when she comes for me…calling my name like I’m her god…” The corners of my mouth turned up and I sucked in the air like it was a cigarette. “Damn. I’m a very lucky man to be able to fuck her any and every way I want. You—or any other man—will never get a taste of her. I am her beginning and her end.”

  It was written all over his face just how much I’d crushed his deformed heart. “I know how you treat people who love you,” he spat. “If I’m no different, neither is she. You can’t fight your nature. You’ll break her, and you’ll lose her forever. I was wrong before. She has a strength I think she’s going to show you. She’s going to break you apart and drive you to the point of insanity. She has it in her. She has a lot in her. There are so many things you are ignorant about when it comes to her. And when you find out what they are, if she doesn’t break you first, it will all end—”

  Growling, I punched him in the face. His head lobbed back and he began to choke on the blood in his mouth. He grimaced and tried to hide the pain I’d inflicted on him with a broken-tooth smile.

  I looked down at my hand and pulled a small piece of enamel from my knuckle. “You can try to fuck up my life because of your little crush on me, but you won’t succeed. You know why, Preston? I can see through you. Don’t be surprised if while you’re dying, I’m the last fucking face you see. You’ve outlived your value.”

  “It won’t change the fact that you need me right now,” he gurgled through the blood, choking on it…like I imagined he would. “I’m the only one who has the connections to get to Roy. I’m the only one who can do this favor for you, and keep my godfather from using the favor to get his hooks in you like he desperately desires. We both know he’d kill me to get t
o you…the son he always fucking wanted,” he said with a slight bitterness.

  Thank you, Preston, for talking too much. I suddenly had a lightbulb moment. “I could easily play on that, if I wanted to—now that I know you’re very expendable with the right incentive, you won’t be on this earth for much longer.”

  “You would never,” he said a little too loudly, stupidly trying to convince himself that he mattered to me. “You hate being under anyone’s control. And if you went directly to him, you would become his ever faithful bitch for the rest of your natural born life. You know it.”

  I let him go and clasped my hands behind my head. I was so pissed, I could feel the heat rushing over my skin.

  “As for Nikki, if I know you, the withdrawal she’s currently experiencing from your diminished affections will make her easily open her legs to me. She and I are building a rapport. It won’t be very much longer before I get what I want from her.”

  For old times sake, I punched him in the throat, crushing his windpipe. He fell to his knees, wheezing and choking before I left.

  No one fucks with what belongs to me unless I’m in the mood to share…and I would never share Nikki with anyone.

  I PADDED TO the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Lifting up my T-shirt, I examined my stomach. At present, it was a small pouch. According to what little Eric would tell me about my pregnancy after he calmed down—a couple of weeks after our first pre-natal appointment—I was at nine weeks.

  The doorbell rang while I was in the midst of searching for keys in order to take Kifo for a walk. I couldn’t find them anywhere, nor the place I usually stored them. When I spotted a note on the refrigerator in Eric’s writing, I obtained my answer. Eric had hidden the keys to my mother’s Land Rover and Lexus. If I needed immediate help, there was a number at the bottom. Otherwise, I was directed to remain on bed rest.

  The doorbell rang again, making me curse Chopin for the umpteenth time. Hoping it wasn’t Janet, I took my time answering the door. Since I allowed her be the one of two people to witness my marriage to Eric, she thought we were the best of friends and would drop by unannounced at sporadic intervals.