Beautifully Damaged

by Fiore, L. A.

  "I can't bake though. My cakes could be used as building materials."

  We started to walk again as his hand wrapped more tightly around mine before he asked, "And your mom, what did she teach you?"

  Trace knew that I grew up with just my Dad but I never told him how or when she died. "She died when I was three, hit and run."

  He stopped then and turned to me as his finger touched my chin to lift my face to his searching gaze. "I'm sorry."

  "I was so young that I really don't remember her. Strange isn't it? I can't even picture her face or remember her voice. If not for my dad showing me pictures and telling me stories, I wouldn't know her at all. For him, she was the love of his life and even twenty years later, he still mourns her loss, misses her everyday, and loves her just as deeply as he had the day they married."

  "She was my age when she died. They had been together for only six years, married for three, but their love was so strong that even the memory of it is enough for my dad. When I was younger, I couldn't imagine loving someone with that kind of intensity, and knowing that the one you're with is the only one you'll ever want."

  I realized that I was rambling so I stopped talking as Trace just looked at me. His expression was completely unreadable. He wrapped his hands around my face as he looked deeply into my eyes before he whispered, "I can..."

  My heart literally skipped a beat hearing those words from this man before I added, "...me, too."

  I leaned into him because I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to taste him again, to feel his arms coming around me. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my forehead where his lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back and took a step away from me.

  I couldn't read his expression at all as he stood there silently watching me. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he offered me his elbow, "We don't want to miss the ferry."

  Chapter Seven

  My premonition turned out to be true and the other shoe did drop. Ever since our Statue of Liberty trip, Trace had been very careful to keep his distance from me. He would no longer wake me up by bouncing on the bed and, honestly, I missed it. The glimpse I caught of a more carefree Trace was just that, a glimpse, and if anything he was more reserved and brooding.

  Sometimes it felt as if he didn't even remember that he was sharing an apartment with me but then I'd catch him watching me and I could only describe the look on his face as longing. I really didn't understand why he seemed so determined to keep away from me, when clearly we both wanted the same thing. I wanted to talk with him about it but he was rarely in the apartment any more.

  One night I was curled up on the sofa reading when there was a knock at the door. I walked to it and pulled it open to see a beauty of a woman standing there. Her long black hair fell down around her shoulders, her green eyes were large, almond-shaped and thickly lashed and her figure was stunning in the black sheath she wore. She looked me from head to toe and back again and I could tell she thought me no competition before she purred, "Is Trace here?"

  My heart just stopped as a numbness stole over my limbs. It was difficult to talk around the lump that had formed in my throat but I did manage, "No, he's not here."

  "He told me seven."

  It hurt, that damn organ in my chest, as I held the door open for her.

  "Would you like to wait inside?"

  She brushed past me as if she owned the place before she settled herself on the sofa and lifted my book to see what I was reading. Her eyes found mine and I saw a shrewdness in them when she asked, "Who are you to Trace?"

  Good question that I didn't have to answer since at that moment the door opened and Trace walked in. I watched as those eyes moved from me to his date and back again but I couldn't read him. His expression was perfectly blank.

  "Are you ready, Siobhan?"

  "Yeah, baby."

  He walked to her and reached for her hand, linking their fingers. The sight left tears burning the back of my throat. His eyes stayed on me as he brushed his lips over Siobhan's before he patted her on the ass and said, "Wait outside for a second. I need to talk with Ember."

  "Hurry," she all but moaned.

  I couldn't bring myself to look at Trace so I watched as Siobhan sauntered from the apartment. The flatness of his voice reluctantly pulled my attention.

  "This isn't working, Ember. You need to move out."

  His voice was so emotionless and his eyes had turned vacant. I knew deep down that there was a reason for what he was doing, one that he believed was in my best interest. I had protests screaming in my head and objections on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't pull any of them into a clear thought. I tried but the shock of his words and his abruptness left an ache in my chest as I felt my heart breaking. I held his hard stare and found the only word that would come to my lips was.

  "Okay."

  He stood there for a few moments and I swear I saw pain in his eyes but then he turned without another word and walked out. I knew this was coming, knew I'd set myself up for the pain, as Rafe's warning played in my head. I said I wouldn't let Trace just walk away but I realized, standing there in his apartment, that I didn't know if I could reach him. I naively believed that I could befriend him, love him and that would heal him. How stupid was I? I had very little experience with men and certainly no experience when it came to Trace and his damaged past. I wanted him but I was beginning to understand that wanting him was one thing but being good for him -- and him for me -- was something else entirely. Moving out was probably for the best all the way around.

  Throughout the following week, Trent and I went apartment hunting. Trace was never in the apartment and I was guessing that he wouldn't be until I left. That seemed a bit harsh and though I tried to convince myself that Trace had my best interest at heart, I had a hard time believing it. After a week-long search, I found a place that I liked and made an offer.

  After our shift at Clover, Trent and I walked over to a little hole-in-the-wall jazz club that was having an open-mic night. Trent asked me if I wanted to sing and I shocked even myself when I stood behind the mic and starting singing the sultry sounds of Paula Cole's Feelin' Love. Even more extraordinary was that I didn't lose myself in the music to ignore the crowd; I instead looked out into the smoky room and connected with the audience in a way I never had before.

  While engaging the audience, I saw a man standing in the corner and, though it was dark, I knew he was ridiculously handsome. He was leaning against the wall with one foot crossed over the other and his eyes completely on me. It was true that I wanted Trace but wanting something and having something were two entirely different things. It was time for me to accept that Trace and I were never going to happen. It was time for me to move on.

  I lost sight of the man after the song ended. Later, as I was having a drink with Trent at the bar, a shadow fell over me. I looked up and there he was. His hair was a warm brown with the lights pulling out the red. His eyes were a startling, bright blue and though he wasn't as tall or as built as Trace, he was still very handsome. When he smiled it was like watching the sun coming out on a cloudy day.

  "Can I buy you a drink?"

  "Yes."

  Trent looked from me to the man before grabbing his drink and vacating his spot as he leaned over and kissed my forehead. When he spoke it was more for the man than me, "I'll be right over there."

  I watched Trent leave and the man slid into his vacant seat before he reached for my hand.

  "Lucien."

  "Ember."

  "You've got quite a voice, Ember."

  "Thank you."

  "I've never seen you here before."

  "No, Trent and I usually go to a place in the Village but we've heard a lot about this place so we thought to give it a try."

  "I'm really glad that you did."

  I reached for my glass as I held his gaze, "Are you here to listen or to play?"

  "Both."

  "Yeah, what do you play?"

  "Sax."

&n
bsp; "Have you played yet?"

  "I'm up in a bit."

  "I look forward to hearing you."

  It was worth the wait. Lucien was good -- really good -- and later that night when he asked to kiss me, he was good at that, too. Before I left he asked me for my number and when our cab pulled away, he stood on the sidewalk watching.

  The following morning I awoke and to my surprise, Trace was actually home. I dressed before walking into the kitchen to see Trace was already at the stove scrambling some eggs.

  "Good morning."

  He turned to me and -- yes, I knew I was moving on and that I wasn't really given a choice in the matter but, damn it all -- he was just everything I wanted.

  "Good morning, Ember."

  I supposed that was as good a time as any to tell him that I was moving out so I grabbed a stool at the island and took a deep breath before I just said it.

  "I've been apartment hunting and I found a place I like." I saw as his body stiffened but I just continued on.

  "I'm moving out, Trace, just as you asked, but I need you to know that I want to stay."

  I waited for him to say "Yes, stay" but he didn't even acknowledge that I was speaking to him. My heart hurt as I forged on.

  "Thank you so much for letting me stay here."

  He remained completely still and if I hadn't witnessed the tensing of his shoulders I wouldn't have thought he heard me at all. I didn't understand why he was pulling so far away from me but it really hurt.

  My phone rang then and as I reached for it, I saw it was Lucien. I stood to exit the room. I hit the answer button and said as I put the phone to my ear, "I just wanted you to know." I walked from the room as I offered, "Hi, Lucien."

  "Good morning. Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

  "Yes, I'd love that."

  "How's Delaney's sound?"

  "Perfect."

  "I'll come for you around seven?"

  "How about I meet you there?"

  "Okay, See you tonight, Ember."

  "See you at seven."

  I hung up the phone as I reached my room and walked to my closet to grab my bags so I could start packing. I hadn't realized Trace was standing in the doorway until he spoke, "Who was on the phone?"

  I looked up at him and though he looked calm, I had the sense that he was actually more like a hurricane off the coast with all of that deadly energy stirring to life.

  "A friend. I met him last night."

  "You're going to dinner with him?"

  "Yes."

  His hands actually balled into fists and it looked as if he wanted to rip something to shreds. His contrary behavior stirred my own temper. I turned fully to him as I put my hands on my hips.

  "What exactly is the problem?"

  "You don't even know this guy."

  "No, that's what dating is for! You should know all about dating, what with Siobhan and who knows how many others. You pushed this on me. This is what you wanted!"

  He was clenching his jaw so hard I thought he might actually break a tooth. What the hell?

  I continued, "Look I get it. There's a whole part of you that you are unwilling to share. You don't want people close and it's easier for you to stay alone so you don't have to be human. You want to be a cyborg? Then be one, but you don't get to push me away one minute and then get pissed the next because I did as you wished. You didn't give me a say in this. You decreed how it was going to be between us so now you have to sit back and shut the fuck up!"

  The change in him was startling as I watched a range of emotion cross over his face. For just a moment, I saw past the armor and the indifference to the damaged man underneath. Tears stung my eyes at the look of self-loathing and hatred that burned from those steel-blue eyes.

  "Oh god, what happened to you, Trace?"

  He offered nothing and then he said quite softly, "I can't hurt you like this, Ember. I do want you here."

  "Then why are you pushing me away?"

  "You deserve better than me."

  "Siobhan?"

  "My attempt to prove that point to you."

  "Is that why you're never around, why you told me to move out?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  He moved with startling speed to stand just in front of me. His eyes were dark and wild as he reached for my hand to press it to the hard length of him.

  "This is all I have to offer you, Ember. Sex is all I'm good for and you deserve more than that, more than a shag from a guy who's fucked half the city."

  "All you have to offer or all you want to offer?"

  He laughed but it wasn't a pleasant sound as he moved away from me to pace the room before he stopped to level me with eyes that were filled with conflicting emotions.

  "I'd give it all to you, Ember -- but me -- I'm not a good bet. You deserve a man worthy of you. I want you. I can't think straight; I want you so fucking badly but I'm shit, Ember, and I always will be."

  "What if I disagree?"

  "Eventually, you'd come to realize the truth."

  "Why do you hate yourself so much?"

  "It's what I know."

  I walked over to him and took his hands into mine as I looked deeply into his eyes.

  "I want you, too, Trace, I want to be with you. Let me in. Let me close to you."

  I studied him but I couldn't read him at all and then I said. "If you don't want to take a chance on me I get it but you should know the damage is done because for me, it's you."

  He said nothing -- just stood there looking at me with his completely unreadable expression, and then he pulled his hands from mine, turned and walked away. It hurt, watching him go. It hurt so much that I had trouble drawing in a breath as I settled on the edge of the bed and let my tears run down my cheeks. It was with a broken heart that I continued my packing.

  I spent the day in my room and emerged to an empty apartment only thirty minutes before my date. I called a cab and went down to wait for it wearing my little black dress.

  I arrived at the restaurant a bit early but Lucien was already there. He didn't see me right away so it gave me a minute to study him. He really was very handsome, especially dressed as he was in a black suit, purple shirt and tie and his hair pulled back into a ponytail. As soon as he saw me, his cornflower-blue eyes lit with genuine interest and when he started towards me, his stride was measured and deliberate. He reached for my hand and brought it up to his lips as a smile curved his mouth.

  "You look beautiful."

  I blushed as I watched him kiss my hand. "You look very handsome."

  His cheeks turned slightly pink and my heart squeezed in my chest from the sweet thought of a man like him blushing over a compliment. He recovered quickly as he pulled my hand through his arm.

  "Shall we?"

  The restaurant was dimly lit and our table was tucked in a private corner. Lucien held my chair for me before folding himself into the chair across from me. After we scanned the menu, and placed our order, he lifted his glass.

  "To beginnings."

  I lifted my glass and smiled before taking a sip, while my eyes held his as I did. He was everything a girl could ask for: sweet, polite, handsome. I so much wanted to jump in with both feet and take a chance but my damned heart belonged elsewhere and, though I never had Trace, my heart didn't care.

  "Your eyes are sad, what's wrong?"

  "My being here isn't really fair to you."

  "Why?" He seemed to figure it out on his own and added, "There's someone else."

  "Actually, there isn't but."

  "You want there to be."

  I didn't answer since it wasn't necessary.

  "What happened?"

  I didn't mean to sound so angry when I answered him but my emotions were still very tender.

  "Nothing. He wants me and I want him but he refuses to go there because he thinks he's not good enough for me. I'm staying with him -- that's a long story -- our relationship is completely platonic but he asked me to move out. I told him
just this morning that I am and, well, it didn't go well. I'm sorry this isn't really how you saw this evening going. Maybe I should just go. I'm not very good company."

  He reached across the table to take my hand into his. "Being alone when you're hurting only makes it worse. Stay, Ember, eat something and take advantage of having someone who's a great listener."

  I felt tears burn my throat at the sincerity I saw in his face and heard in his words. Why couldn't I have met him first? Because even if I had, one look at Trace, and I would have been a goner. I squeezed Lucien's hand as a smile touched my lips.

  "I'd rather hear about you."

  "Okay, but, Ember, if he's the one you want and you are for him, don't take no for an answer. Fight for him."

  I had the sense he was speaking from personal experience but I didn't get to think too long on that when he added, "... if he blows his chance, Ember, he's an idiot. I won't make the same mistake."

  I returned after a lovely dinner with Lucien to a still empty apartment. I thought about Lucien's advice and realized that he was absolutely right. I wanted Trace and realized that I was good for him. I had seen a change in him while we were together. He was almost at peace and was definitely less haunted. He made me happier than I'd ever been. He was it for me and I was willing to fight for him and had a suspicion that outside of Rafe no one ever had.

  I grabbed my phone and called Rafe who answered on the first ring.

  "Rafe, where's Trace?"

  It sounded like relief in his voice when he offered, "He's here, Dominic's in the Bronx."

  I hung up and called a cab. I got to the place and I could hear the cheering from the street outside. Inside looked a lot like the gym Rocky trained in and in the middle of it was the ring. I moved through crowds but stopped when I felt a hand on my arm. I looked up to see Rafe but his expression was grim.

  "I'm really glad you came."

  I felt dread at that. "Why?"

  He gestured to the ring, "He's letting them pound on him."

  I turned to see Trace in the middle of the ring with his back and chest covered in large, purple welts. An ugly, blackish-purple mark over his ribs on the right side was clearly the pooling of blood from cracked or broken ribs but it was the sight of his face that had tears streaming down my face. He was so bloody that I couldn't see the extent of the damage. I watched as he made no attempt to dodge the blows, taking the pounding over and over again. It was a testament to his strength that he could take that kind of beating and still be standing.