“Calm the fuck down.” His warm breath hitting the back of my earlobe, I struggle to suck air into my lungs, having trouble catching my breath. I just want to go back out there and rip that guy’s balls off for being a liar and a cheater and making his wife feel like she might be something special to him. And making her feel like she finally had a chance at being loved.
Without realizing it, my shoulders begin to shake. I’ve begun to cry with Dex’s strong arms wrapped around me. His hold tightens, his lips pressing to the top of my head. He pulls away, his thumb brushing against the fading bruise on my neck. His voice is low and feral.
“Who the fuck hurt you, Kat?”
At his words, I stiffen. In a blink, my emotions swap, and anger takes over. I break out of his hold, whipping around to face him.
“No one hurt me. Because no one has the power to,” I state, hanging on to my own words, praying I believe my own lies. But I can’t. Because someone did hurt me. I finally took a chance and let go of everything I believed in and fell into the hands of a man who fucking ruined me. I should’ve never let him in. And now I hate myself for it.
Dex is watching me. His eyes darken if that’s even possible. Back in the day when we went at it, our fights got pretty intense. We’re both passionate people in our own fucked up way, so when we fought, it got bad. But those fights would always end up in a heated entanglement of our bodies, scraping at one another to get naked and fuck out all our anger. It was super-hot, but super unhealthy.
The look Dex has in his eyes for me right now is dark. And heated. If I threw myself in his arms right now and asked him to fuck me against this desk, he would. My chest is heaving, in and out. I’m angry. And hurt. I don’t want to feel the way I do anymore. And I know Dex can make it go away.
I throw myself at him, our lips slamming together. My hands go up his chest, pulling at his shirt, as his hands wrap around my ass, lifting me up. He turns, dropping me onto the desk, and as our tongues collide in a feverish kiss, my hands work at the zipper of his jeans, while his dig into my scalp, pulling at my hair.
I just need a release. I need to feel something. I need to forget about Chase fucking Green and every single memory he’s scarred into me.
Chase fucking Green.
My hands release from Dex’s zipper and I pull away. “I can’t do this.”
Dex is less adamant of stopping what I now regret I started. But with a little more force, he pulls away. “Fuck,” he growls, throwing his hands into his hair.
I can’t make eye contact, ashamed at myself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t fucking apologize.” The anger is noticeable in his tone.
“But I should. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He turns his angry eyes on me, and I make the mistake of looking at him. He wants to say something. Yell at me mainly. Fuck me against the table, until we’re both screaming. A small part of him wants to hold me. A side of the big bad Dex I get to see on rare occasions.
But he does nothing. He burns me with his stare, until I break away.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, but he puts his hand up to stop me.
“Fucking don’t.” And then he turns on his heels, throwing the office door crashing into the wall, and disappears.
Fuck me.
Fuck everyone.
Watching someone self-destruct is a lot easier and noticeable when you’re on the other side of it. When you’re not the one self-destructing. Denial is a real thing. Because no one admits fault to anything. Claiming they can take care of themselves and don’t need help. I used to put myself in other people’s shoes who were hurting. Love broken and unable to see light out of the hole love kicked them down into. I always said I’d be the one who’d thrive. Be resourceful. I’d build a homemade fucking ladder and climb my ass out of that hole. I’d find love and kick its ass, then move on. I wasn’t a dweller.
I was a motherfucking conquerer.
I was also a fraud.
Being all badass in my head was so much easier. It was easier to mentally tell myself to get out of bed. Stop calling into work, possibly shower. And I seriously fucking stunk. I was no strong hotshot who was indestructible. I was the fucking advocate for weak idiots who let a four-letter word hold them down and constantly jab the humiliation in their face.
But then again, I repeat to myself over and over that I wasn’t even in love. No way. I swear on it.
Love takes time. Takes patience. Takes work. Three things Chase and I never had. This tour would have ended and our time would have been up. We never had time to grow into something more than the small little fantasy world we created for ourselves. And even that was a fantasy.
I’ve been out of work for almost two weeks. I know Dex wants to strangle me, but I know he’ll get over it. Because as selfish as I am, I know something Kristen said is true. In some sort of way Dex does love me. And that makes me feel even worse for what I did. I ended up renting a car and driving seven hours up to New York, to my parents’ graves. I lay in the soft grass at the cemetery, trying to remember the last memory I had of my parents. I was a sophomore in high school and I had just been asked to prom. And when I got asked, that meant I needed a dress. It was the first dance I had been asked to and my mom was over the moon. Maybe even more than I was. So, we searched and searched and when we found the perfect dress, the worry on my mom’s face as she looked at the price tag killed me. She hid it well, and as I insisted we find something cheaper, she masked her worry with a smile and insisted we buy it.
The guilt the entire time that dress hung in my closet was almost unbearable. The guilt while I eavesdropped on my parents’ discussion when my dad said we couldn’t afford it. My mother’s pleas to let me keep the dress. She just wanted me to be happy. To feel beautiful. My dad looked into my mother’s eyes, and knowing he could never say no to her, he said okay. They would work it out and adjust funds to afford the dress. I watched my mother’s sweet smile spread across her face as she cupped my father’s cheek, offering him the most loving kiss. And at that moment, I felt the love my parents had for me. They loved each other like no other. And I hoped one day to make them proud, finding a love just like theirs.
I wore that dress the night of prom. We took photos at my parents’ house with my date, Justin, and then we all traveled to his house so we could take more with his. My mom and dad both kissed me on the cheek, my mom fighting off tears. My dad hugged me, telling me to have fun and to behave. I blushed and shooed them off, trying to look cool in front of my date.
As they walked to the car and my father helped my mother into her seat, I broke away from Justin and ran up to the car, giving my dad one last hug and turning to my mom, telling her thank you. And that I truly felt beautiful.
My parents died in a car accident on their way home that night. A drunk driver who had fallen asleep at the wheel. Reports confirmed my mom died at the hospital, my dad on impact. I wasn’t surprised my mom slowly slipped away shortly after hearing about my dad. It just made sense. She loved me, but she loved my dad more. And she needed to be with him. I was notified by my biology teacher and driven to the hospital by a police officer. I arrived three minutes after my mom passed.
I wipe away the tears I’ve shed at the memory, remembering the days after. The confusion. The pain. The anger at that damn dress I had to have. It was white and sparkly, and I felt beautiful in it. I remember tearing it to shreds. Yelling, screaming, sobbing if I just didn’t go to that dance. It was also the last time I had ever dressed in anything above my fancy ripped jeans and tanks.
I adjust the flowers I brought nicely on top of the green grass and press my fingers to my lips. I kiss my skin and brush the remanence alongside my parents’ name.
“I miss you both so much,” I whisper, the wind picking up, blowing my hair into my face. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you proud. Found what you two had. I just don’t think this world will ever be able to compare the love you two had. I thought one d
ay I would.” I wipe more wetness from my cheeks. “But maybe you just set the expectations too high.”
The winds pick up more, the clouds rolling in quickly. It takes mere seconds for the sky to open up and the rain to pour down. It drenches me from head to toe and everywhere in between, making it impossible to distinguish which tears belong to the angry clouds and which are my own. I give my parents’ headstones one last glimpse and head home. I know I need to get my shit together. The world isn’t going to stop because of my pity party. Maybe this battle has been my own fault. Trying to find and compare a love that was just not out there. I need to get over it. Time heals all, and I got nothing but time.
Seeing the small Cleveland skyline makes me happy to be home. I feel lighter and less angry. I miss Gerdie like nobody’s business, and I even stopped at some flea market on the way back, picking up some homemade bird treats.
I pull up into my apartment complex and some sort of commotion is happening in the front lawn. I park and get out, grabbing my bag and goodies for Gerdie. The closer I get the more I recognize Kristen standing on the front stoop, having it out with my landlord.
“Hey? What are you doing—”
“Jesus Christ, Beller! Where the hell have you been?” Kristen pushes away from my landlord, who looks annoyed but relieved. Meeting me, she grabs me and squeezes me into a bear hug. Well, a mini bear hug since she’s five foot four and like a whopping hundred pounds probably wet.
“I went to visit my parents. I needed some time off.”
She pulls away, investigating me. “You went home?”
“I wouldn’t call it home anymore, but yeah. I just needed a break. Time to think.”
“Katie, I’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve been calling you. I’ve left you a billion messages. Your damn answering machine is full again, and Dex, God that guy needs to get laid or slipped some ecstasy. He’s one crabby asshole.”
Oh, man, I bet Dex loved getting hounded by Kristen. They met a few times before, never really hitting it off. She didn’t care for Dex’s biker attitude. Even less for Dex’s friend Tank, who showed her all the ways a body could be bent then never called her again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t bring my phone with.”
Sighing, she grabs for some of the things in my hands. “Katie, that’s what phones are for. Seriously. I was about to call the cops if your landlord here didn’t let me into your apartment. I thought you were dead or something.”
My eyes widen. “Geez, morbid much?” I say, holding in my laugh, but her no joke expression tells me she isn’t going to be laughing with me. “For real, sorry. I just needed a time-out. I’m totally good now. Come on.” I guide her back up the steps and sidestep my angry landlord. I get us settled in my apartment and while she runs back to her car to grab her bags, I go to coo Gerdie. I tell him about all the other pretty birds I saw on my journey and that as much as I searched I didn’t see a match for him, so he was stuck with me. If I was going to be a spinster for the remainder of my days, so was he. Fresh water and his yummy homemade bird treat later, I meet Kristen in the living room. She’s opened a bottle of whiskey and placed two glasses on the coffee table. I take a seat, tucking my feet under my butt.
She pours us each a two-fingered glass and hands one to me.
“So, you gonna fill me in on what the heck has been going on?”
I take a good swig of the amber liquid, allowing me some time to figure out how to approach this. “Nothing really. Just work and vacation. Got to see some great—”
“I’m being serious, Katie. I want the truth for real this time.”
And if anyone deserves the truth it’s her. “I’m in love with Chase Green. And he is not mine to be in love with.”
Her eyes widen at my confession.
“I know. I, Katie Beller, have a heart after all.”
“I’m not going to act like I’m surprised. But seeing as you two are on a real name basis, I will just assume it was serious?” She looks at me with sad eyes. I only nod. “Can I ask when this started?”
Another sip. “Day four of the first tour.”
She swears, taking a drink of her whiskey. “Shit, that soon?”
I nod.
“Was he ever inappropriate? Is there something I should know that concerns you or the tour?”
“No, of course not. He was a complete gentleman… And it was mutual. Nothing he did was without my thumbs-up.” We fall silent for a moment, both sipping on our drinks.
“The club?” she asks.
“Yep,” I reply.
She nods again. “And I assume he wasn’t just in your room calling for a new key at seven in the morning either that one time.”
I shake my head. “Definitely doing more than getting a new key.”
“Got it.” More silence. More sipping.
“And the girlfriend?”
“I knew nothing about the girlfriend.” I finish off my drink, grabbing for the bottle. I fill mine three fingers deep this time, leaning forward and offering the same courtesy to Kristen. I sit back and try to play it cool. Kristen reaches out, covering my hand with hers.
“I’m sorry, Kat.”
“I know. Me too.”
“I don’t want to continue talking about this if it upsets you. But I do have to address some things. I know right now you need the friend and not the publicist, but I have to let you know.”
“Know what?”
“Please hear me out. Everything before you decide or make any decisions. Please.”
I nod, but I know I’m not going to like where this is going.
“As your publicist, I have to let you know that there were rumors going on about you and Charlie Bates. Apparently, you claimed you two were having sex. And someone started posting about it on the Internet.”
I sit up straighter. “Who? I didn’t tell anyone about Chase and me.” But when I dig into my brain bank who could have even known, it hits me. “Fucking Chrissy Baker.”
“I don’t know who that is, but the posts did come from a local account. I would assume the same.”
That fucking little bitch. But then again, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“I want you to hear it from me, since I know you don’t go online. But his publicist made a statement that those allegations were false, and he didn’t even know you.” The liquor in my stomach churns and I close my eyes, trying to fight the urge not to throw up.
“Honey, listen to me.” She reaches out for my hand, but I brush her off.
“Seriously, it’s fine. He has an image to uphold and that would look bad if he attached his name to mine.” I take another drink, knowing the booze is going down too fast.
“Katie, you look like you’re about to lose it. It’s not fine.”
I stand up quickly, a little woozy on my feet. The three shots of whiskey find their way into my bloodstream, setting my balance off a bit. “I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew this was what would happen. I can only blame myself.”
Kristen puts her drink down, standing with me. “Katie, I know you’re blaming yourself for what happened, but it takes two. And you cannot take blame for the girlfriend part. You didn’t know. Can you just sit? Let me finish, before you shut down on me and drown yourself in this bottle?”
I roll my eyes and fall back onto the couch. She follows suit and begins. “Pretty quickly after that statement was released Charlie or Chase was blowing up my office. My cell. Any place he could reach me. I thought someone had died. When I finally was able to take his call, the first thing he said was, it wasn’t true. And that he did not put out that statement.”
What? Well, of course he didn’t, his publicist did. He took the easy way out and avoided it.
“He went on and on, honey. How he’s been trying to reach you, but you won’t take his call, and how he needs to speak with you. He would do anything.”
You can imagine how theatrical my “pfft” was this time around. “Yeah, right. Anything? Like lie to me? Shame me
on social media that he doesn’t even know me?” My voice is rising. I notice my drink swishing, which means my hands have begun to shake.
“He told me that if I didn’t get you to talk to him, he’s pulling from the tour.”
I gasp at her confession. “He said what?”
“He threatened to pull out if I don’t convince you to take his call. One call. That’s all he asks.” That son of a bitch. How dare he use my best friend and all her hard work to get to me.
“I know it sounds bad. He’s a little fucker for putting us both in this situation. But he’s also desperate.”
Pffft! “For what?”
“You.”
No.
NO.
I made my peace with him. I forgave myself for the mistakes I made, and I just want to move on. I won’t spend any more time dwelling on anything Chase Green.
“Not going to happen,” I say, determined.
“And you shouldn’t.” Kristen nods.
“Okay. So, then it’s settled.”
“But…”
I KNEW there was a but.
“But from a business perspective, I need Charlie Bates on this tour. I’m sorry, but he trapped me in a corner. He knew I wouldn’t be able to get out unless I gave him what he wanted.”
What! “Are you serious? You’re picking him over me?”
“No! I swear, but you have to see how this is hard for me too. Yes, he’s a total dick on a stick for what he did. I would have dropped his sorry ass right away for what he did to you. But… it’s just that there is this small part of me that feels you should talk to him. He truly sounds horrible.”
Pfffffft! “Pffft! I don’t care.”
“You’re right. Forget I asked.” She picks up her glass, taking a sip. Good. I hope she’s dropping it. “So, enough Charlie Bates talk. How are you? How’s the bar? Too soon to talk about Dex?”
At that we both laugh. Dropping the Charlie Bates talk is for the best. I cozy up in my couch. “Dex is the same. Hot and angry.” I confess my little slip-up with him in the office. She isn’t too shocked to hear it and even though she pretends she doesn’t think he’s smokin’ hot, she demands every detail. And I give it to her.
Love Broken Page 17
