You Loved Me At My Ugliest

by Evie Harper

  My heart fractures a little more because I already have the answer to his question. I’m done trying for something I don’t truly want.

  I take Nick’s hands and hold them in my own. With tears falling freely from my eyes, I break his heart.

  “You’re a good man, Nick, and you strayed from that path for me. I created doubt in us, and you felt you needed to lie to keep me. Building a relationship from our fears was never going to work.”

  The sadness in his eyes pierces me straight through my chest. It almost has me backtracking, telling him I will make it work, but I don’t. No more masking what we both know was going on.

  “I saw this coming. I just didn’t want to speed it along with this news,” Nick acknowledges.

  “I understand,” I reply softly.

  Nick’s face falls, and I squeeze his hands to get his attention. “I care about you, Nick. I haven’t spent this much time with you and not seen why you want to hold on to us so badly. And I get it. You lost your parents, and then you held on to everything else that much tighter, even if it’s not good for you, not meant for you.”

  Understanding crosses Nick’s features. “I’m not going to stop hoping that we might have a future.”

  A small smile plays on my lips. “See, a good man.”

  Nick chuckles sadly and in a thick voice, he says, “Good guys finish last, Lex.”

  He releases my hands, turns his back to me and walks away.

  My soul vibrates with the need to go to him, but my heart is telling me to leave it be, and my head is calling me a fool for letting him go.

  Turning around, I spot Jake, Lily, Sarah and Kayne standing inside the doorway to Emily’s room. They all appear sad, yet they send me smiles.

  I will forever be grateful for having them in my life and in knowing Nick has them too. It puts my worries about him to rest.

  It’s time I stand on my own two feet, either to embrace my past once more and hope for a better outcome, or to be introduced to a whole new future.

  Chapter Three

  My Ugliest Parts

  Joseph

  Stepping into my bedroom, I shut the door and walk over to my desk, which is opposite my bed. I open up my laptop and go straight to Google and look up Hastings, Minnesota.

  Usually I search the local news in Hastings and examine the crime, obituaries, anything that will tell me if there has been any trouble in the small town. However, I don’t get that far this time because the headline on the home page catches my attention.

  'Local man marries Australian woman. Claims he found the love of his life through the darkest days of his life.'

  I skim over the story, which is mostly lies, glad to see Jake hasn’t lost his mind and told their story to the newspapers. My eyes quickly find the picture of Jake and Lily. Jake’s in a tuxedo with his arm around Lily. She’s virtually glowing, dressed in a slim wedding gown with her hand resting on Jake's chest. Both are staring into each other's eyes, smiling. Looking as if the world has disappeared, it's as if they’re in their own untouchable bubble.

  I scan the people. To the right, next to Lily, is a woman who I can easily guess is Jake and Emily's mother. Next to her is Emily holding her... swollen stomach. She’s pregnant? Warmth spreads through my chest at Emily’s smiling face, the sparkle in her eyes. She's happy. Kayne stands behind her with both his hands holding her stomach, as they grin lovingly at each other.

  My eyes roam to the other side of the picture, and I spot Dom standing next to Jake. Suddenly, my heart stops when my eyes land on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever looked upon: Lexi.

  Her features soft, eyes closed with a small smile, turning away from the happy bride and groom.

  I shake my head and refocus when I see what I think is a man, with his arms around Lexi and him kissing her cheek, but it’s not my eyes playing tricks on me. It's real. She's moved on.

  I search the headline for a date and see the picture was taken six days ago.

  I slam my laptop closed and blow out a heavy breath. I move from my desk to the balcony off my room, hoping the ocean breeze can calm my racing heart.

  My Lexi, my reason for everything... has another man. I grasp a tight hold on the railing when an overwhelming pressure builds in my chest. Panic.

  She’s mine.

  I need to head back, convince her to wait for me, that what I’m doing is best for the both of us. I’m securing us a future, free from the brutal men in my family. Lexi needs a good man, deserves a future unburdened by the bullshit that has plagued me my whole life.

  I don’t deserve her, but I need her.

  My father turned my affection into ugliness. My mother's fear for my safety kept her at a distance, and my fear for her sanity pushed me away. My father worked us perfectly to his advantage. He made sure I would never taste a life of freedom from the O’Connor name.

  Unloved and incapable of loving others, I slowly became dead inside, but my father didn't see Alexa coming. He didn’t know the impact she would have on my life. Growing up in a battlefield, Lexi gave me tenderness and love simply by holding my hand through a fence. She ignited dreams inside of me as we grew from children to adults. She showed me possibilities in the simple act of never giving up on me. I always struggled with the fact that she stood by me.

  When pain is all you've ever known, how do you accept you’re worthy of a life with good in it?

  There were times when she would find me covered in blood from beating a man to near death or to his grave, for marking a collection piece. There were nights I would stumble in high on power or when I couldn’t raise my eyes above the ground, feeling as if the shame was eating me alive.

  My father taught me to always be the stronger one, to make those around me bow down through fear. Except I’m not like my father; instead, I substituted my hatred for him into the weak and evil men who preyed on helpless women. They would send me into a frenzied state of anger, but all of them were my father. I did to them what I wished I could do to him.

  Lexi was there each and every time, waiting for the chaos to ensue when I got back. She always knew it could be from one extreme to the next; her pleading with me not to burn the house down with everyone in it or when I would pack her bags and beg her to leave me, telling her to get out while she could. There were nights we screamed at each other, pleaded with each other and cried together. Afterwards, Lexi would take me, a weak, shivering man into the shower and scrub me clean. Her warmth would wrap around my shaking body, telling me she would never leave me, that we were going to be okay; we just needed to find a way out.

  She always pulled me back, grounded my thoughts, reminded me of who I am, who I wanted to be and urged me to fight for the good ingrained in my soul.

  Lexi understands me better than anyone, the enjoyment I felt from those beatings, and she understood the anger I needed to hide away in plain sight. She knows all of me, my ugliest parts.

  She is the reason I am who I am today. A man with control, a man who dreams of a better future. She’s been the key to my happiness all along. I can’t lose her. I won’t.

  Today is my last day on lock down; four weeks confined in this house, an extravagant villa in La Cima on the bay of Acapulco, overlooking the ocean. I’m crawling out of my skin ready to finally leave the walls of this house. And now knowing Lexi may have moved on, or be close to doing so, my chest tightens and my stomach churns. I need to get to her, fight for her.

  I stare out to the ocean and curse fucking Serrano. He’s the reason I’m in lock down at all. The man was undercutting Michael’s business, so in return, I shot the man who gave me the suitcase, which was fifty thousand less than it should have been. Apparently, the guy was Serrano’s cousin. The man lived, but will have a limp for the rest of his life.

  Since then I’ve been under house arrest, on Michael’s orders, since Serrano has threatened my life. I’m not sure why, but he exploded when he heard what I’d done, and not the shooting someone part, but upsetting Serrano part. My cousi
ns were just as surprised as I was. Serrano is a lowly drug trafficker. Why the fuck would Michael care about upsetting him?

  Michael has worked things out with Serrano, so as of today, I’m finally free to leave the house. My uncle may have worked things out with a man who wanted to take my life, but not because he cares. It’s because I’m an asset, a worker on his payroll, one of the few whom he trusts. Which is laughable because I came here to kill him. Unfortunately, things changed.

  His three sons and I are just pieces he moves around on the chessboard to do his business with. I see my father in him often, but where my father was paranoid, my uncle is cunning. Thank fuck Lexi isn’t here. Because my father knew there was a line not to cross with me, but my uncle, he doesn’t recognize lines. He only sees opportunities.

  There’s a knock at my door, and I stride in from my balcony in time to see my cousin, Matthew, walking in, searching my room for me.

  “What, Matthew?” I say in a gravelly voice, not in the mood for any company right now.

  Matthew grins and waves his hands through the air in a ‘surrender’ gesture. “Calm down, I come with good news. We’re going to meet up with Georgie, talk about the girls. Father wants you there, so you can finally leave this dull and over-the-top house.”

  “Great, I can leave this prison for a business meeting to further suck my life down the toilet.” My tone is bitter and cold. Yeah, I’m in a fucking bad mood.

  “Fuck, Joseph, what’s got you worked up? I thought this would cheer you up.”

  “I’m sick of how long this is taking, Matthew,” My voice comes out taut and loud.

  Matthew hurriedly closes the door behind him and takes quick strides to talk to me in secret.

  “Keep your voice down,” he grates. “I understand, trust me. My brothers and I understand the wait is fucking unbearable, but it’s part of the plan, so pull your shit together, Joseph.”

  I picture Lexi in my head and take deep breaths to calm my anger. He’s right. What we need to do is going to take time, precision and careful strategy. I can’t fuck this up over a picture. I’ll sort a way to head back to Hastings without Michael finding out exactly where I’m going. I will claim what’s mine.

  ~~~

  Alexa

  Arriving at Acapulco airport after a ten-hour flight, I get a cab to Hotel Calinda, exhausted and desperate for answers.

  As soon as I check-in, I dump my suitcase in my room and head out to familiarize myself with the area. Possibly to find some shady people, who might give me information in return for cash in their hands.

  There are a few things I’ve learned in the last few years, one of them is how to break a man’s hand in three different ways—Joey taught me that one—and another is how to be invisible, blend in with my surroundings, to disappear and creep up on those who I don’t want to see me coming. I learned and honed that skill last year while helping Emily find and follow the man who she wanted revenge on desperately. And I’ve also become very good at spotting those who don’t fit in with society, who peer around paranoid, who think there is an enemy around every corner. Why? Because they have something to hide or they are involved with dangerous people and need to be aware at all times.

  I’m no badass, but I’m not helpless either, I have the ability to appear as the weakest woman on the planet with a bat of my eyelashes, and also the skill and determination to maim and kill if I need to.

  Right now, I feel as if I have the strength of ten men. Nothing is going to stop me from finding Joey. Each thump of my heart pushes me forward and craves answers. I force the thoughts of finding out he’s dead to the back of my mind. If I go there, think the unimaginable, my determination and resolve may shatter straight away. I first need to focus on finding out where the O’Connor’s will be, so I can be in the same place. I need to find a subtle way in, a small peek into their world so I don’t land head first into it myself, and if Joey is still alive, I can’t put him at risk. I have no idea what he’s told his uncle or cousins.

  ~~~

  As I wander around, I’m awed by the energy of the locals and the bustling tourists looking through the stores and street markets. I’m able to push down my overwhelming anxiety for a moment to take in my surroundings and feel the heavy humidity. Sweat runs down the back of my neck, proving I was right to only pack shorts and shirts. Walking among the palm trees and high-rise hotels and apartments, I sense a rightness in my chest, a knowing sensation that coming here was the right thing to do.

  I spot the ocean through the tall buildings. Umbrellas and chairs scatter along the beach. When I think of a holiday destination, this is definitely how I picture it. Well, except for the police I’ve seen walking around with semi-automatic rifles.

  Acapulco used to be known as the holiday destination for the rich and famous, but over the years, it became the preferred location for work and play with the cartels who dealt with drugs and guns.

  The city is often in the news for decapitated bodies being found, tourists being raped, and deadly wars going on between gangs. And it’s all because the drug traffickers fight each other for the Guerrero coast route that brings drugs in from South America. And that coast route is currently owned and run by Michael O’Connor. Michael is said to be the most dangerous and cold-blooded drug lord ever in Mexico. With him in charge for the past twenty years, Acapulco turned from ‘holiday destination of a lifetime’ to ‘holiday at your own risk.’ It's still a huge draw for spring break revelers, obviously because the legal drinking age here is eighteen.

  A woman was voted in as mayor and attempted to crack down on the drugs flowing through her streets. She was shot at three times by gang members and survived each time, then went on television to show her people she could take them on and survive. Only hours after her television appearance, she was shot in the head and died instantly. I have no doubt the order came from Michael, another reason why I must remember to tread carefully here. There are eyes everywhere.

  I stop at a little restaurant, El Cabrito, and sit at a small two-seated table. A young girl, with long, black, curly hair comes over and speaks in English. Her tone is soft and sweet with a heavy Spanish accent. “What would you like to have today?”

  I order the quest fundido con camarones y tocino. The menu says it is a delicate blend of melted cheese, with shrimp and bacon.

  A little while later, while I’m eating, a woman who appears to be an aged version of the young girl comes over and asks if I’m enjoying my meal. Her voice rattles with age, but her features are soft and her eyes show kindness.

  I nod and thank her for the delicious food.

  She takes a seat across from me at my table with a smile on her face and asks me if I’m here on a holiday.

  I play the tourist card and tell her I’m away with my best friends for a bachelorette party.

  She nods and gets excited, telling me about all the places I need to see while I’m here.

  I thank her and casually say, “We’re looking forward to seeing this beautiful city. However, we’ve been told to beware of the O’Connor family.” I fake a confused expression.

  The woman’s eyes widen and she whispers, “Oh, yes, stay away from La Cima and stick to populated areas.”

  She pats my hand, and continues, “You and your friends will do fine.”

  La Cima. I read about that. It's where all the rich people live in their mansions overlooking the ocean’s cliffs, off Acapulco Bay.

  I thank the elderly woman for her hospitality and kindness and tell her I will come again for her beautiful food.

  As I’m about to leave, she pulls my arm toward her and says, “The O’Connors have been spotted just west of here so make sure you avoid that way and head back to your friends and hotel.” She’s smiling, but I’m able to see the concern in her eyes.

  I can just imagine if Michael is anything like Marco, how afraid these people must be of him. It takes everything in me not to ask how many O’Connors there are, and if she knows if Joseph is alive. Inst
ead, I smile and thank her again for her hospitality.

  I leave the restaurant and look behind me to make sure I’m out of sight. As soon as I see that I am, I head west. I head toward the answer I’m looking for. Is Joey still alive or have I truly lost him forever? And if he is living, will he be the man I remember?

  Chapter Four

  Meet The O’Connors

  Joseph

  Michael leaves his two, armed and massive, bodyguards by the door, and we all walk into Georgie’s office.

  I choose one of the three seats in front of her desk, and my uncle selects the seat to my right.

  He’s dressed in a suit as are we, but he wears a black coat over his clothing, with a scarf, and a walking cane. He’s an old man now, but by no means a meek and defenseless one. His seventy-year-old body is slowly dying from old age. Though he still has his broad shoulders and an athletic figure, but with one punch or kick, he could have broken bones, a deadly consequence at his age. His face is covered in sun damage and wrinkles, which are partially concealed by his white, wiry, swept back hair and full, milky beard.

  He used to be a fighter. He won many titles for underground fighting, and lived his life exactly as my father had: ruthlessly, immorally and power hungry. That’s how he got into business with the cartels, and after working for them for many years, my uncle took over and became the biggest drug lord in North and South America.

  Because of his decaying body, the days of him standing over others as a threat are over. All he has left now are his contacts, secrets, and ability to manipulate. Luckily for me, he has nothing on me, and as long as Lexi stays dead to him, I know he’ll never have anything over me, because she’s the only person anyone could threaten me with.

  We’re at Georgie’s to talk about girls going missing from my uncle’s whorehouse. Georgie runs a brothel, The Pink Lady. She keeps the girls fed and prevents them from overdosing on their drugs. The girls can also come and go as they please. Working here is voluntary, but my uncle and Georgie do prey on the ones who are homeless, or who have bad home lives, and the ones who are lost in life right now. There are also those women who just love to fuck for money. Whatever their reasons, the women at The Pink Lady aren’t forced to be here and that eats at my uncle. He hates that he can’t tie them to their beds and make them continually earn him money. However, as insane as Michael is, he’s also a businessman, and he knows a quality product isn’t a girl begging to be freed when the man only wants her to shut up and suck his cock.