Broken Ground: (Broken Series Book 1)

by Anna Paige

  I straightened, speaking with conviction. "I'll deal with it. Let her take me to court. I'll settle it and insist on a nondisclosure agreement. If it gets leaked anyway, which I wouldn't doubt because she's just that vindictive, I'll sign my shares of the company over to you. I won't drag you and Brant down with me." I nodded decisively, my mind made up.

  Then Spencer said the words that changed everything.

  "You're not the one she's after. She's accusing me."

  THE ROOM SPUN when I realized what Spencer said. There was no way I'd heard him right, I had to be hallucinating or something. He'd never gotten within two feet of that crazy bitch. I stood there shaking my head, hoping to eject the words he'd just said from my brain. "No, no, no. She named me, the lawsuit is about me. You said so."

  He gave me a sad smile. "No. I said she was suing the company. I never specified which of us she accused because I thought I could fix it and didn't want you to freak out."

  Jesus fucking Christ, I couldn't breathe. I'd done this to him. I put him in the line of fire when I didn't have the sense to walk away from Marissa's advances. I'd ruined him just like I ruined everything. Son of a fucking bitch! I bent over and grasped my stomach, feeling bile rise in my throat. There was no going back from this. No way to save the friendship that we'd both been counting on since we were kids.

  His voice was icily cold when he said, "And how lovely it was to come here to tell you all this and find out you're fucking another employee, clearly not giving a damn about anyone but yourself. I thought you were doing so well, thought you'd finally started to grow the fuck up. I'm fighting to save both our asses, and you're screwing the help. Again." He bent down in the doorway of my room and scooped up a thin gold chain with a book-shaped locket that we both knew belonged to Ali. He'd seen her wearing it when they met, after all, and it was very distinctive. Especially with her initial engraved in the front.

  Shit.

  He stepped into my space, leaning close to my ear as I tried not to lose the contents of my stomach. "Was she worth it, Clay? Were either of them worth your career? Or mine? How about my reputation? I know you don't have much of one, not a good one anyway, but mine fucking mattered to me. I don't deserve to have my life flushed down the shitter because you have to fuck every woman in your path."

  He stepped back, and I lifted my head to look at him. This was it. This was how our friendship would end. "I'm so sorry, Spencer. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake that I wish like fuck I could take back." My mind flashed back to the day I'd ruined everything, the morning I'd given into Marissa's advances and taken her right there on my three thousand dollar desk. I could feel the bile in my throat. "I was stupid and careless and weak. I knew better than to touch the employees but I gave in anyway. I fucked a woman who meant absolutely nothing to me, and now I'm going to lose my company and the best friend I ever had. Over a whore who threw herself at me and my inability to turn her down. I'll fix this. I swear I'll find a way. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

  As I righted myself and waited for his answer, the look of disgust on his face like a knife to my fucking heart, I heard a creak behind me. I spun on my heel and locked eyes with Ali, my entire body going cold. There were tears in her eyes as her gaze shifted between Spencer and I, her face contorted as if in physical pain. I started forward, wanting to explain myself, fully aware of what she'd just heard and how it must have sounded but she backed away. "Don't. Just don't." She turned and ran down the stairs, the sound of her sobs wrenching my heart until I thought it would burst.

  I started after her, desperately calling her name when Spencer gripped my arm and spun me around, seething. He stood so close spittle peppered my face as he yelled. "You see?" He held tight and pointed in the direction Ali had gone, her necklace swinging from his fingers. "Are you fucking happy? Why did you have to pick her? Huh? You couldn't stand it could you? She was so far out of your league that you just couldn't rest until you'd proven what a stud you were and made her your whore."

  I did something then that I hadn't done in twenty fucking years. I reared back and punched my best friend right in the face. I hit him with such force that I could hear the blood splatter onto the hardwood floor when I made contact, following through with my whole body. I was dimly aware of a shooting pain through my hand and fleetingly wondered if I'd broken it before deciding I didn't give a shit.

  He stumbled back with a stunned expression, and I snatched the gold chain from his hand as he went down on one knee, blood pouring from his nose. Instead of feeling remorse for hurting him yet again, I drew back and prepared to take another swing, everything inside me screaming she is not a whore!

  The only thing that stopped me from following through with the second blow was the sharp sound of Ali's Jeep spinning rocks as she sped out of the driveway and away from me. Fuck, I had to get to her. She had to know I'd never even think those things about her much less say them. I looked down at my stunned and bleeding friend, taking hold of his shirt collar and getting in his face, unmoved by the anger and betrayal in his eyes. "Don't you ever call her a whore again. Ever. Do you understand me? She's not just some one-night stand. I fucking love her and, best friend or not, I'll break your neck if you ever disrespect her again." I walked out then, pausing to throw a dishtowel at his chest before going in search of the love of my life.

  The idea of her driving around upset scared the shit out of me. She'd been crying when she left, her heart ripped open because she thought I'd used her. She didn't need to be behind the wheel. I knew firsthand what could happen. I kept a white-knuckled grip on the wheel as memories of a time I'd long tried to forget flashed unbidden into my mind.

  We're so sorry. There was nothing we could do.

  The impact was just too much.

  She's gone.

  That one sentence kept playing over and over in my mind. She's gone.

  I wouldn't survive it. Not this time.

  It would be my fault.

  Again.

  I WAS STARTING TO panic. I'd tried the realty office, her apartment, the diner. I drove in circles until I found the bookstore she mentioned hoping she'd sought solace among the stacks.

  Her Jeep was nowhere to be found, so I didn't bother going inside.

  A call to Talia had gotten me nothing but a stern "What fucking part of 'keep our girl happy' did you not understand?" and a grudging promise to text me if she heard from Ali.

  It was close to noon, and the sun blazed high in the sky. The summer heat pressed down on the blacktop as I drove aimlessly through Denson, looking for any sign of her navy blue Jeep. When I'd exhausted every possibility, checked every place she and I had been or even mentioned, my despair began to overwhelm me.

  She'd probably gone back to D.C., to get as far away from me as she could get.

  My eyes burned and my hands shook. I almost laughed at the irony of worrying about her driving when I could barely see the road through the angry tears welling in my eyes. I was angry at myself for doing exactly what I'd been trying for twenty fucking years not to do.

  Care.

  When I cared about someone, I doomed them. My love was a curse, and I'd known that.

  I knew I'd end up hurting her, and I had.

  Why the fuck hadn't I stayed away?

  Not wanting to go back to the cabin and look into the faces of the four other people I'd hurt today with my careless actions, I drove toward the one place I'd desperately tried to avoid my entire adult life; the one place where my demons always waited. Because finally letting them catch up to me and pull me under was an agony far preferable to the one I was feeling right then.

  I WAS THANKFUL for the hour when I realized the crew would be gone to lunch by the time I got to my destination. My truck shimmied over the uneven path to Gran's property. The driveway had yet to be paved, we would do that after all the commercial vehicles where done making trips, so the terrain was a little bumpy but nothing that couldn't be handled by our trucks.

  Or Al
i's Jeep.

  I coasted to a stop beside her navy blue ride, stunned that she would choose this place as her refuge and elated that she was okay. I jumped from my truck and didn't even look around, anxious to see her and scared shitless because I had no idea if I could win her back. I knew exactly where to find her. Her presence there pulled me like a tether, and I started off down the narrow path that led to the lake. The ground was a little soggy from the recent rains, but I remained surefooted as I hurried toward the clearing, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Coming to the clearing, I scanned the water's edge and spotted her huddled under the willow, her knees drawn to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her head was down, and her shoulders shook with the force of her tears. She seemed unaware of my arrival, so I stood there for a moment, trying to come up with the right words to explain. I'd been looking for her for more than an hour, which meant she'd been crying for a considerable amount of time, with no indication that she was stopping any time soon.

  I wanted to rush to her, hold her, make it better any way I could, but I forced myself to stay there and watch what I'd done to her, the pain I'd caused. Even though I hadn't been talking about her, to hear me say that of anyone must have lessened me in her eyes. I'd sounded like a callous ass.

  The wind stirred the branches that surrounded her like a canopy, and she raised her head. When she spotted me, her face crumpled, and she tried to wave me away. Not about to let her get rid of me so easily, I strode over and pushed my way through the sweeping branches. I took a seat beside her, mimicking her position by pulling my knees to my chest.

  I reached for her hand and she snatched it back as if burned by my touch. "Whores don't hold hands, Clay." Her voice was raw and ragged, a stark contrast to her usual melodious tone.

  I sighed and withdrew my hand, propping it on my knee as I watched her. "What you heard back there..."

  "What I heard was you telling your friend that I meant nothing to you. That I threw myself at you like some pathetic slut." She spat. "Do you think I wanted this?" She pointed from herself to me. "I swore I'd never let this happen again. I knew better than to trust anyone again, but apparently I didn't learn my fucking lesson the first time. At least I found out early this time, so I guess I should thank you for that. If I hadn't overheard the two of you talking, I might have wasted a lot of time thinking I mattered to you." She sniffed but blinked back the tears in her eyes, too angry to sink back into her misery.

  I patiently shook my head. "No, Ali. What you heard was me reacting to the news that a woman I slept with over six months ago is suing the company to punish me because I didn't want a relationship with her. Nothing about that conversation, nothing I said back there, had anything to do with what is happening with us."

  She looked doubtful. "You expect me to believe that? I heard you say the word: employee. Despite being wrong about what I was to you personally, there is no mistaking our professional connection. I am, in fact, an employee."

  "So was she." I told her, my voice barely a whisper as I realized I'd have to tell her everything. Well, everything about my history with women, and particularly my history with Marissa. She just looked at me, and I knew there were a million scenarios in her mind. Rather than let her assume I made a habit of sleeping with my employees, I decided it was time to fill her in.

  I began slowly, telling her that I hadn't been in a relationship since high school, touching briefly on my propensity for one-night stands, cringing when I saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes. Then I told her about Marissa. I started with her pursuit of me after being hired and how I'd fucked up by giving in. I didn't leave anything out, I told her about the harassing calls, the disturbing emails, and the failed attempt to run me down. She quietly asked a few questions but otherwise sat and listened as I laid out all the reasons I wasn't good enough for her, all the while hoping she'd want me anyway.

  She didn't seem particularly angry, just curious. Until I told her that I'd been worried that Marissa had been responsible for the break-in. She glared at me as I explained how I'd had it checked out and there was no way it had been Marissa. I knew what she was thinking, and she was right. I should have told her. When I admitted I was an asshole for keeping that from her, she simply nodded in agreement.

  I recounted Spencer's warning and the promise I'd made to him, laid out the terms of the contract we'd all signed. Told her how angry he was when he realized she and I were involved. She dropped her eyes then, and I reached out to touch her cheek — thankful when she didn't pull away. When she met my eye, I told her, "It's not your fault he thinks I broke my promise. And it's not mine either. He's wrong for being angry." My voice fell to a whisper. "I never promised not to fall in love." Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she shifted closer and took my hand.

  She deserved better than what I'd just done. I'd been weak enough to tell her how I felt, to saddle her with my affection when I knew how it would end.

  My love was a fucking curse, why didn't she see that?

  Blinking rapidly to clear my suddenly blurry vision, I released her hand and stood, stepping to the water's edge as I told her, "You're everything I never thought I wanted. I made avoiding emotional attachment into a damn art form. It's no wonder Spencer thought..."

  She spoke at my back. "Thought what?"

  "He thought I'd made you into one of my whores." My jaw clenched, and I remembered the sickening crack of my fist making contact with his face. "But I didn't change you. It was you who changed me. You changed everything for me. Everything about me. When he said that, when he assumed that's what you were to me, I was so pissed, I couldn't see straight."

  She stepped up behind me, tugging my sleeve until I turned to face her. "What did I tell you before? He doesn't know you like he thinks he does."

  I tipped my head back and stared up at the sky, the sun peeking from behind a puffy cumulus cloud, the sudden brightness causing me to squint. "I'm pretty sure he figured that out when I decked him."

  Ali's gasp sounded pained. "Oh, God. You didn't."

  "I did. He assumed you meant nothing to me and when he said I'd made you my whore, I fucking lost it. It just happened, I remember looking at him and not caring that I'd made him bleed, maybe broke his nose." I looked at her, the enormity of what I'd done making my throat constrict. "How could I do that? After I'd just found out my stupidity may have ruined his life, how could I have the balls to hit him? Why wouldn't he assume the worst of me? It's not like I haven't been a fuck up all my life, and he's had a ringside seat for all of it. He should have been the one kicking my ass." Only I could take a bad situation and make it a hundred times worse in a matter of seconds.

  "You're shaking," she murmured as she ran a hand down my arm.

  "I'm fucking pissed. I didn't want any of this." I ran a hand through my hair, willing myself to calm down.

  "You're angry because you don't want to love me?"

  The hurt in her voice only compounded my anger. I spun around and faced her. "I'm angry because I shouldn't love you. All my love will bring you is pain. Look at how much I've hurt you already. I knew I was falling for you, and I was too goddamn selfish to walk away. And I knew telling you how I felt was only going to make it worse but I fucking told you anyway." I placed my hands on her shoulders. "Because I wasn't thinking about you. I was thinking about me. It's who I am. I'm a selfish prick who continually hurts the people he cares about. Don't believe me?" I raised a brow and nodded toward the path. "Go ask Spencer just how toxic I am. Maybe he can fill you in when he stops fucking bleeding all over the floor."

  I released her and stepped away, turning my back to her and staring out over the glassy surface of the lake.

  The shove at my back was so unexpected I nearly fell in. I stumbled a moment and spun, expecting to find Spencer there, ready to take my head off.

  But it was still just me and Ali.

  She'd shoved the hell out of me.

  What the...?

  I l
ooked down into her gorgeous face and found a look of defiance. She stood on her tiptoes poking me in the chest. "I thought you might need a quick dip to cool off. You're obviously not thinking straight because what you just said is utter bullshit. You don't get to decide whether you're good for me or not, you arrogant ass. I do. And I happen to think we're amazing together. I think you're amazing. You're also still my friend, and I've already warned you about talking shit about my friend." She took a deep breath and continued. "Love is pain, hasn't anyone ever told you that? The only ones in this life with the power to truly hurt you are the ones you truly love. Everyone knows that." She shook her head as if exasperated. "You and I are fine unless you're telling me it's over. Are you?"

  "Not a chance." I bleated out without hesitation.

  I leaned down to meet her lips with mine and she put her hand between us, effectively halting me. "Whoa, boy. I didn't finish. You and I are fine but what happened with you and Spencer? That's bullshit, Clay, and you know it."

  Ali grasped my hand, cringing when she saw that my knuckles were bruised and crusted with Spencer's blood. I'd been so intent on finding her, I hadn't realized. She blinked slowly, as if the sight disturbed her. "Please don't ever do that again. Not for me and certainly not to him." She held my hand up so I could see my raw knuckles. "We're going to find Spencer and fix this mess. These marks on your hand are going to be the only evidence of this horrible damn day. You're going to work this out with your friend. Then, when it's all over, we are going to go back to the cabin and get shit-faced drunk because this is going in the record books as the shittiest week ever. We clear, Mr. McGavran?" She tugged me along behind her.