You Loved Me At My Ugliest

by Evie Harper

  Tears threaten to spill as my heart races.

  “I left you in fucking Minnesota,” Joey whispers angrily, “so you would be safe, so you could begin living the kind of life you deserved. I wanted to do what I had to do and come back the hero, come back, and you would see me as a good man, someone you could be proud of, someone you might be able to stand up with in a church and be honored to call your husband.” Joey bangs his fist against his chest. “Because I would have wiped out any threats to us. I would have taken care of you, protected you and our future.”

  My tears fall uncontrollably. I’m unable to and uncaring of hiding them any longer. I’m speechless. His honesty and determination swallows my anger and I’m left not knowing what to say or do.

  “To me, helping my cousins meant getting rid of Michael and creating family ties, allies. God knows if we will ever need them in the future, but all of it, all my plans were for you, Lexi.”

  Joey walks to me and places both his hands on my face and stares straight into my eyes.

  “Lexi, I not only want you, crave you, desire you, but I fucking need you. You’re essential to my soul, my fucking life force. My heart doesn’t beat without you in my life. I found that out the hard way yesterday.”

  My heart near explodes with love and happiness when Joey’s last soft-spoken words shake me from this beautiful moment.

  “Yesterday?”

  “I’d been keeping up-to-date with the news in Minnesota as often as I could. I stumbled across Jake and Lily’s wedding picture.”

  My mind scrambles for answers as to why he would be talking about that picture. I think back and then my body freezes. Nick. He had his arms around me and was kissing me on the cheek during the picture. God, that day feels like it was months ago, not just a week. I knew at some point I would have to tell Joey about Nick, but I really didn’t want to do it during all the other shit going on.

  Joey’s staring at me with desperation in his eyes, almost begging me to tell him it was nothing, just a playful, flirty moment and nothing more.

  More tears fall, but this time for a whole different reason.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I state softly.

  “Tell me the fucker got a slap to the face after that. Tell me it was harmless. Tell me the picture tells a lie and he wasn’t really that comfortable with his arms around you and you weren’t actually smiling about him putting his mouth on you.” When Joey finishes, he’s panting and growling at me.

  “I can’t,” I say quietly, almost inaudibly as I dash away fresh tears. “You left. I was trying to move on,” I say louder this time, finding my strength to get through this conversation. I know this will devastate Joey, but I didn’t do it to hurt him. I did it to heal me. It didn’t work, but I won’t feel bad for trying.

  “Did you fuck him?” Joey asks, his tone harsh and his eyes not showing hurt, but disgust, loathing for me.

  A cry explodes from me as my answer. The conversation is moving too rapidly. I need to explain better.

  He turns and heads for the door, his reaction lighting anger inside of me.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” I say, my voice strained from my crying.

  Joey stops at the door, just as he’s about to open it.

  “You left me. I told you we were done if you chose this”—I swing my arms out even though he can’t see—“over me. You made your decision, and I made mine. I tried so fucking hard to move on, to leave you in the past. I hoped every day that I could wipe you from my memories and my heart, but nothing, not time, distance or bitter memories could take the sting out of your leaving me, or the love out of my heart. I decided to leave Nick the day I was told you may be dead, I walked away from a good man and a decent life to come and find you dead or alive. I already knew before I left that no matter what I found, Nick would never be the one for me, because there will only ever be you, and for all I knew, you could have been a dead man. Looking back and even during, I knew I was making a mistake, but it’s one I will never regret, because I tried to heal my life. I tried to forget a man who was too busy trying to save others that he was missing the woman who crossed lines for him, who changed her life for him, who loved him!”

  I stop because really what else is there to say. I walk to the bed and sit down.

  The door handle turns and I can’t help myself, the last words slip out of my mouth. “What really hurts is the look you just gave me. I’ve never seen or thought of you that way. At no time have I lost faith in you or us, even though you gave me plenty of reasons to. Yet the one time I make a mistake, you so easily look down on me, cast me aside and walk away.”

  Silence fills the room and after a moment, Joey opens the bedroom door and walks out without a word or looking back.

  My despair makes me want to cry, to crawl into the middle of the bed and curl into my body and weep away my sadness, but I refuse to do so. I take my time, breathe, collect my thoughts and slow my racing, shattered heart. When I’m ready, I stand tall and walk out of my room, intent on finding someone to help me get to my hotel. Having my own things will offer me the slightest bit of comfort.

  I may be new here, but this kind of world isn’t any different to what I’ve already lived through. With or without Joey, I’m going to help his cousins. And when it’s over, maybe I’ll leave the way I came, alone, but I will do it with my head held high.

  Chapter Eight

  You’re Back

  Alexa

  When I walk into the kitchen, three heads pop up from their breakfast plates. All three men are eating at a glass dining table. Matthew and Alex give me a look of kindness; William, however, stares blankly before turning back to eat his bacon and eggs, and reading his newspaper.

  I lower myself into a chair at the table and sigh. “You heard that?”

  "Just parts. Well¸ really only the ‘Did you fuck him?’” Alex says in a mock growl, mimicking Joey. “Then him angrily walking past us to the front door and slamming it told us the rest.”

  “He’ll cool down. Just give him some time,” Matthew offers.

  William scoffs and continues to eat his breakfast.

  My anger is at an all-new high from my fight with Joey, so I take the bait. “Do you have something you want to say, William?”

  Straight away I’m confused as he cringes at my words. "First off, call me Will. I fucking hate William, and second you cheated. I doubt he will get over it. You deserve everything you get.”

  My eyes widen, and my mouth drops open. Bastard.

  “I did not cheat,” I defend, loud and clear. “Joey left me. He knew coming here meant we were done.” I pause, calming myself before I explode. “You know what, I don’t have to prove myself to you. You don’t know me or my history with Joey, so go to hell, William.”

  William narrows his eyes at me for a moment before returning to his morning routine.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Alex says with a nod toward William. “He just needs to get laid.”

  William says nothing, only a slight shake of his head while he continues to eat, and read the newspaper.

  I’m about to ask how I go about getting my things from the hotel when Michael strolls into the kitchen, his walking stick clanking each time it touches the white, marble floor.

  I’m about to ask how I go about getting my things from the hotel when Michael strolls into the kitchen, his walking stick clanking each time it touches the white, marble floor.

  With his sudden appearance, I remember something Joey told me. It seems Michael rarely ventures from his part of the house on the east side. He tires easily from walking around the expansive villa and only eats in the kitchen occasionally, usually having his meals delivered to his office. His failing hearing and his reluctance to wear a hearing aid means he has two guards stationed somewhere around the house at all times, protecting a man who has enemies everywhere, even those who share his bloodline.

  The mood in the room tenses and everyone grows silent.

  Matthew
gets up and leaves the room immediately, as if being in the same room as Michael is too much for him.

  Michael doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care.

  Michael takes his breakfast out of the warmer and comes to the table and sits down. Both Alexander and William continue eating, not saying a word, not even a hello or good morning.

  Michael looks to me with a smug grin. “Have you eaten, Alexa?”

  I look to the warmer and back to Michael. “No, not yet.” A large roast dinner was delivered to my room last night, and I still feel stuffed.

  Michael nods and begins eating his food.

  Alexander is the next to stand and take his plate to the sink.

  I decide to casually walk out at the same time he does, desperate to leave this suffocating room and get away from this horrible old man. I push my chair back and it makes an annoying squeaking sound, but I don’t let that stop me. I get up and step away from the chair.

  “I’m throwing a party here tomorrow night,” Michael says, and it causes Alex and me to halt and turn toward him. “Frank Lucini will be attending with his wife and also their daughter, Gabrielle, will be escorted by Joseph.” Michael looks to me with a questioning expression, watching me for my reaction.

  I clasp my hands behind my back to hide the sight of my nails digging into my palms. I will not give this man the reaction he so clearly craves from me.

  “Over two hundred of my business associates and important men will be here, so I want you all on your best behavior.” He swings his gaze to Alexander then to William. “Do not fuck with me on this.” Michael’s voice is stern as he drives the point home that there will be consequences for any problems. “And Alexander, let Matthew know and make it clear what I expect from him.” Michael adds in a flat voice and then returns to eating his breakfast, dismissing us.

  Alexander exits the kitchen and I take that as my cue to go as well. I turn, leaving.

  “Oh, and Alexa,” Michael announces, addressing me. I halt and once again turn back to him. “Let Jorge know what hotel you were staying in so he can pick up your things. He’s in the living room.”

  I nod, thankful at least that I’m getting one thing I want today.

  As if only now noticing me, Michael’s face scrunches up at my short-shorts and Joey’s big jacket sitting over my clothes. “I highly doubt you own anything suitable for tomorrow night, so I’ll send for a few things today that you may choose from to wear tomorrow night."

  I open my mouth to object to him buying me anything, let alone picking out clothes for me to wear, but I spot William staring at me and discreetly shaking his head, telling me not to argue. I decide he’s right and instead nod to Michael, and then quickly leave the room before I can be caught in another conversation.

  I make a beeline for the living room to talk to Jorge before hiding out in my room, hoping and praying that Joey comes back soon. My earlier anger has disappeared and now all I’m left with is feeling hurt and guilty. Joey and I have been through much worse. I pray we can move past this too. I’m sick of our relationship only just surviving. It’s time to find out if we can finally thrive, once and for all.

  ~~~

  It’s nine p.m., and I’m lying in bed flicking through the channels on the television. Joey still hasn’t returned, and every hour he’s away, makes my blood boil all the more. I’m angry as well as scared. During a fight, he’s never left us to stew over it this long before. I’m afraid what this much time apart could mean to him. He might not come back at all. He might be staying somewhere else, with someone else? My heart dies at the thought of him wanting to get revenge on me by having sex with another woman. Gabrielle.

  I jump out of bed and pace. No, don’t go there. Joey loves me. I believe he won’t want to hurt me, no matter how hurt he may be.

  I decide to take a walk around the house to halt my racing mind. There is a downstairs area I haven’t seen yet, but have been curious about.

  I throw on a blue sweater over my lace cami and pajama shorts. Thank God, I got my clothes back today and I can finally breathe easy again.

  I poke my head out of my door, and look left and right. All the lights in the house are off, and no one is walking around. Jorge walked past my room once tonight with four men I’ve never met before. They seemed like they were on their way somewhere fast, probably doing surveillance for the party tomorrow night. The guards and maids have been running around crazy all day decorating the house with fairy lights and candles for the big event.

  Today, I came back into my room from lunch to find five dresses hanging on a rack in my room. Each a different colored, stunning, floor-length gown. I’ve dressed up for events before, but have never worn anything as exquisite or finely detailed as those dresses.

  I slip out of my room and quietly tip-toe down the stairs. At the bottom, I turn left and open a door, taking another set of steps. When I’ve finally reached the last step, I find it takes me to a massive room. The space looks like an elegant ballroom with arch-shaped mirrors on both sides and a chandelier hanging from the roof. However, I doubt it is actually used as a ballroom because in the middle of the room is a large pool filled with crystal-clear water.

  The sound of a man’s voice grabs my attention and it’s then I spot a small hallway at the end of the room that leads to somewhere unknown.

  I walk straight to the entry, and again I hear the noise. It sounds like a man grunting. I walk further through the tiny hallway, and it opens into a bigger hallway with a brown door at the end.

  A long drawn-out sigh, as if a man is being pleasured, hits my ears, and I spin around quickly needing to get out of here. I'm intruding on something I shouldn’t be hearing, but then I hear a slap followed by a loud grunt of pain, and it causes me to freeze.

  What the hell is going on?

  The yell is guttural and full of agony.

  I still my body. The sigh of pleasure followed by a shout continues, which almost sends me to my knees in anguish for the pain this person must be feeling.

  I decide to walk up the hall, open the door and look inside. Everything in my body screams at me not to, telling me it’s the wrong thing to do, but my body continues to move toward the door.

  I’m about to turn the handle, and I think about what will happen if the man sees me. Should I run? Stay and see if he’s all right? What if this is Michael’s torture room, and I’m interrupting something?

  Curiosity pushes my concerns aside, and I open the door as quietly as I can. There is a small click, but it happens at the same time another sigh is released from the man.

  I open the door only enough to fit my head inside. The room is dark apart from a small lamplight to the right. I don’t see the man. What I see first is silver from a belt buckle flying into through the air and then smacking down on a man’s bare, bloody back. The same grunt of anguish rips through the room and this time right to my core, realizing why this person is in pain. A few seconds pass and the sound of a man in pleasure rings around the room.

  He gets pleasure from his own pain?

  I move my assessment away from the bloody back, up over the man’s broad, muscular shoulders and go in search of his face. It’s then through a mirror in front of the man my eyes catch his, staring back at me.

  William.

  I inhale deeply as I gaze at him and my heart squeezes tightly from witnessing the endless depths of sorrow and hatred shining through his eyes.

  He doesn’t move or say a word to me. We both stand in silence, our eyes locked until all of sudden, he raises the belt and hits his back again. I gasp in horror and quickly close the door. I can’t stand here and watch him do that to himself.

  I run back down the two halls, past the pool and up both sets of stairs to my bedroom. My soul shatters for William, for whatever he must believe about himself to have him harm his own body like that.

  I reach my room and smack into a hard body. I glance up and find Joey with panic on his face, which quickly turns to relief. />
  After the relief sets in, he then notices my breathless pants and my sorrowful expression.

  “Lexi?” His tone is urgent and worried.

  I shake my head, figuring out how to tell him what I just witnessed. “I went for a walk downstairs. I heard some noises.” With a shaky voice, I manage to get out, “William’s hurting himself.”

  Understanding comes over Joey’s face, and I realize I don’t need to tell him what I saw; it seems he already knows.

  Joey pushes my messy black hair out of my face and kisses my forehead. He closes my bedroom door and leads me to the bed.

  As we both sit down, I ask, “You know he does that to himself, and you all let him continue to do it?”

  Joey expels a heavy breath. “He’s a grown man, baby. We can tell him until we’re blue in the face that what he’s doing to himself is fucked up, but that’s not going to change or take away whatever haunts him enough to keep doing it to himself.”

  I inhale deeply, calming down, and understand Joey’s right. My heart still hurts for William though.

  I become aware that Joey is back and in my room, talking kindly to me. This is good.

  “So you’re back,” I state awkwardly.

  Joey’s face softens. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. It was a shock. I know what I saw in the picture, but I never wanted to think beyond it, let alone hear it from your own lips. It shook me to my core, and I needed space before I said something out of anger, something I’d regret. I have enough regrets. I should never have asked. I should have left it in the past.”