Gathering the sheet up, she rose and her glare was withering. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. “I call bullshit. Pretty much everything that comes out of your mouth is rude, I doubt you want to know anything personal about me. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean you need to know everything about me.”
I snorted, rubbing my hands over my face. She was a fucking pistol. “This has nothing to do with the sex, Sutton. Don’t be so dramatic, it’s unbecoming of you. Let’s face it, you know way more about me than I know about you,” I reasoned and her face began to soften with realization. “I don’t even know your last name.”
She stared down at the white sheet, wringing it through her fingers. “Hale.”
“What?”
“Hale. My last name is Hale.”
“Oh…” I smiled slowly. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No,” she admitted, frowning.
“And the scar?”
Her head snapped towards me. She didn’t appear to be angry anymore. Just tired.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes,” I reached for her hand once more, guiding my hand over the ridge of the scar. I sat up, and bent forward, placing a soft kiss against it. “I really want to know.”
Her body shuddered. “I got it when I was a baby. There…there was a fire. My family didn’t make it. I escaped with only this,” she nodded down at the scar. “They died,” tears pooled in her eyes, “and I escaped with a minor burn.”
I didn’t know what to do with that information. The fact that we had such similar pasts scared me. Maybe Sutton really did understand more about me than anyone else ever had, or ever could.
“I don’t even remember them,” she whispered, lying down once more and clasping her hands under her head. “I was too little.” Breathing deeply, as if to calm herself, she said, “I have a picture of them. That’s it. If I didn’t have that I wouldn’t even know what they looked like.”
“What happened to you after the fire?” I asked. For the first time in five years, I was more worried about someone else’s pain than my own. I didn’t know what to make of this development. It was strange, to say the least.
“I was adopted by friends of the family. My grandparent’s were too old to take on a baby and I guess no one else wanted me.”
Her voice and eyes were full of sadness and I knew there was more she wasn’t telling me. But I knew how much I hated it when people pushed me and I refused to do the same to her. One day, we’d both have to come to terms with the fact that the horrors that haunted us were never going to go away, and therefore we had to find a way to live with them instead of only coping.
CHAPTER 14
Sutton
“Not so fast, Sunshine.”
Emery cornered me in the backroom. I tried to get by him but he crossed his arms over his chest and refused to let me pass.
“Emery!” I stomped my foot like a child, the stress of everything catching up with me, and therefore making me lash out.
“You’ve called in sick for four days, and after the way you fled our dinner the other night, I know something is going on with you. Spit it out.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I said in a calm, reassuring tone. “I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Something tells me this has to do with Memphis and your mystery lover,” he continued, still blocking my path.
“Why are you so obsessed with my love life?!” I shouted. “It’s none of your business! Stay out of it!”
Hurt flashed on his face and I instantly felt bad.
“I’m sorry,” my voice lowered, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“But you did,” he glared, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “I’m just trying to be your friend, but you make it really damn hard.” He turned sharply, then stopped abruptly and spun around to face me. “By the way, Memphis is a good guy. I’ve known him for a long time and he’d never hurt you. Whoever this guy you’re currently wrapped up in is, I can tell he’s bad news. You’ve been together barely anytime and he’s already turned you into a different person.”
“Maybe it’s just my true colors showing!” I spread my arms wide.
He shook his head, a smile that was hardly pleasant graced his face. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad you cut Memphis loose.”
“Why do you want us together so bad? What does it matter to you?” I hated that Emery’s words were cutting me so deeply, like he’d plunged a knife in my chest and wiggled it around.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” he thrust his fingers through his dark hair and it stuck up in every direction, “but I can see that you’re perfect for each other and it’s fucking ridiculous that you’re blind to it.”
Smirking, I tried and failed to insert some humor. “You sound like a girl.”
“Whatever, Sutton,” he laughed humorlessly. “I’m done here.”
My mouth fell open in shock as he pushed open the swinging door and left.
I sat down for a moment, unable to move.
Normally Emery’s words would have gone in one ear and out the other. I did what I wanted and I didn’t need someone else’s judgment. But this time, it hurt to know that Emery didn’t think very highly of me.
I pushed myself up, rushing to the restaurant area to apologize, but he wasn’t there.
I looked around and around, but he was gone.
Griffin spotted me and grabbed my arm. “Are you looking for Emery?”
I nodded.
“He left.”
I’d deduced as much.
“He looked upset,” Griffin continued, “and asked for the night off. I called Angela, she’ll be here in an hour.”
Great.
Emery was pissed at me and I was stuck with Angela—at least I was on the day shift today, which meant we were busier than at night, and I could avoid her.
Knowing that work was exactly the kind of distraction I needed—from Emery, from Memphis, and from Caelan who’d managed to pry some information out of me—I grabbed my pen and notepad and settled into the monotony of taking and filling orders.
⌘⌘⌘
Caelan
I opened the door and let Monique inside.
“Hello Cael,” she purred, gliding her finger down my chest.
I grabbed her hand and placed it back by her side.
She was undeterred though. She was a pushy lady and I’d grown used to her advances. She was my best client though. She always requested a new commission piece. Despite the fact that her husband was rich, and she had kids, she was always eager to let me know that she’d be more than happy to pay me for other services. I was an artist, not a fucking male prostitute. I guessed every woman wanted to bang a bad boy.
She adjusted her very large, very fake, breasts and smiled.
“You’re looking better than usual,” she remarked, standing a bit too close for comfort.
“I’m not drunk,” I stated, “although now, I’m questioning whether or not sobriety was the best decision for this meeting.”
She let out a high-pitched cackle that made me think of a witch. Swishing her overly dyed blonde hair over her shoulder, she followed me over to the easel.
“You know,” I started, “you don’t have to come over every week to check on the progress.”
“I know,” she swatted playfully at my arm. She was laying it on thick today. “But I like to.”
“It’s annoying.” Yeah, I said it, but it was true.
She laughed again, tossing her head back. I hated looking at her face. It was all bloated with that shit women put in their faces. What happened to aging gracefully? Did women really think men cared if they had a wrinkle? No matter our riches and possessions, we all get old and we all die. It’s the way the world works.
“Oh stop it,” she smiled, running her fingers down my arm. “I know you like my visits.”
Shrugging off her touch, I pointed to the easel. “As you can see, it’s almost done. You could’ve sa
ved yourself a trip if you waited till I called. It’ll be ready in a few days.”
“Oh, nonsense,” she waved a hand, “it’s no trouble at all. The drive isn’t that long.”
It was over an hour. I knew, because I’d had to deliver a piece to her home once. She opened the door wearing nothing. I knew I should have severed ties with her then and there, but I didn’t sleep with her and I was never going to sleep with her. Our relationship was strictly professional and no flirting on her part could change that.
“It’s beautiful, Cael!” She gasped cooing over the painting of her dog.
Yes, I had stooped so low as to paint a fucking pug.
Well, I guess I did a lot worse things than paint a pug.
“Nugget looks so cute! You captured the emotion in her eyes perfectly!”
Who the hell names their dog Nugget? And emotion in the dog’s eyes? Was she batshit crazy? It was a fucking dog! What kind of emotion did it have?
I didn’t say any of that, though. I did my job and played along.
“Yes, the emotion. The love shining in her eyes has touched my heart,” I patted my chest, trying not to laugh at my ridiculous words.
“You’re an amazing artist.” She surprised me by wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I didn’t return the gesture.
“Uh…” I muttered when thirty seconds later she hadn’t released me. “You can let go now.”
“Oh, right.” She released me. Turning back to the painting, she said, “Do you think you could deliver it when it’s done?”
Since she couldn’t see me, I wasted no time rolling my eyes. After the last time, I wasn’t going there again.
“Sorry, no delivery service anymore. You’ll have to either come pick it up or pay for it to be shipped.”
“Not a problem,” her voice was husky and seductive sounding, but even in my worst state it had never done anything for me. “I’ll drop back by and pick it up when it’s ready. I already have something else for you.”
“Of course you do,” I muttered, unable to keep the words bottled inside.
“It’s my goal to have my entire house covered in your art.”
God, she was ridiculous. I would’ve thought after a year of this that she’d know by now that I wasn’t going to sleep with her. I wasn’t that desperate. Besides, she was probably fucking her pool boy and gardener and…the list was endless. A woman like this didn’t just want one man to have an affair with.
“I’m sure your husband would really enjoy having watercolors all over his house.”
Laughing, she said, “Oh, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about a lot of things,” her voice dropped low. She stalked towards me and I suddenly felt like I was prey she was about to devour. Her hands found my chest and she tried to yank my shirt off. God, couldn’t the woman take a fucking hint that I wasn’t interested. I really wished I was drunk, because then I could blame my reaction on that.
I grabbed her wrists in my hands and squeezed as I pried her hands from my clothes. “Don’t fucking touch me, Monique.”
“Oh, come on.” She was relentless, trying to kiss my neck.
“Stop,” I growled, shoving her away. Her mouth fell open in shock as she stumbled back. She strap of her dress fell off her shoulder and she hastily replaced it.
“You need to leave.” My voice was deadly calm. I wanted her out of my apartment, and I didn’t care if she ever came back. Her behavior was ridiculous. “I’m not going to fuck you, so just get over it.”
She stuck her nose in the air haughtily and strode towards the door—her five-inch heels clacking on the floor. Seriously, how did women walk in those?
She threw the door open and turned back to me. “I won’t be needing your services anymore, Cael.”
Surprise, surprise.
“You still owe me for this time,” I told her, throwing my thumb over my shoulder towards the easel.
“I’ll put your check in the mail.” She straightened the skirt of her dress and fluffed her hair, before leaving.
I watched her go, and as I did, my eyes latched onto very vibrant, very hurt blue eyes.
“Sutton,” I breathed.
Shaking her head, she stomped forward. I expected her to say something. Instead, her hand reared back and smacked against my cheek hard enough that my teeth clanked together.
It dawned on me then why her eyes had looked so hurt.
She didn’t go across to her apartment, instead trekking towards the door that led to the roof—to my sanctuary.
I forced my fingers through my hair, an irritated groan coming out of my mouth. I didn’t need to deal with these fucking female hormones. It’s why I’d avoided a relationship forever. I warred with whether or not to go after her. I finally decided that I had nothing to hide and I didn’t deserve her anger—unfortunately now I was angry. Between her reaction to seeing me with Monique and the psycho cougar pawing all over me, I was done.
I stormed up the stairs after her. The door to the roof slammed closed behind me. Her back was to me as she sat on the ledge and she flinched at the sound.
“Sutton,” I growled.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she said, bending her head forward as she looked at the ground below her feet.
“Well I have a hell of a lot to say to you!” I shouted. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. Let them watch us make a spectacle up on the roof.
“Like what?!” She finally turned, and swung her legs around so she could stand. “The fact that you let that woman pay you for sex?! God, Caelan! I feel so fucking dirty now!” She rubbed her hands over her body like the taint of my sins clung to her.
“You have it all wrong!”
“Do I?” She tilted her head, glaring at me. I had never seen her this mad. Was it wrong that it turned me on? “It looked pretty straightforward to me!”
“Listen to yourself!” I pointed at her. “You’re so fucking judgmental and you have no idea what’s going on!”
“Then explain.” Her voice softened and she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t going to go easy on me. “You have five minutes to explain yourself.”
I wanted to turn around and leave. Stuff like this wasn’t worth the hassle, but from the moment I hung those damn curtains, Sutton had me. Something about her was different and she’d managed to weasel her way in to my rotting heart. What I felt for her wasn’t love, but an overwhelming need. She didn’t judge me. She got me. And that’s why I didn’t leave and stayed to explain myself.
“She’s a client—”
“See!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “A client! As in a sex client!”
“No,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. “You know, you’re making this entirely unpleasant. I don’t owe you an explanation for my actions. I didn’t do anything wrong. But here I am, trying to get you to see the truth and you won’t fucking listen!” I yelled. I wanted to take her in my hands and shake her for being so stubborn. She infuriated me like no other. She reminded me of my little sister who’d gotten under my skin in the same way. Cayla always believed she knew everything, when really she knew nothing, and Sutton was the same way.
“Fine,” she inhaled deeply. “I’ll be quiet.” She then mimed zipping her lips and locking them with a key, which she then pretended to toss over her shoulder for good measure. A little smirk twisted her lips and it took everything in me not to march forward and claim those plump lips with my own.
“Like I was saying,” I forced myself to say the words, instead of giving in to what I wanted, “she’s a client. She’s commissioned several pieces of art from me.” Sutton’s mouth fell open into a perfect O of shock. “She’s never and will never pay me for sex. I’d be lying if I said she hadn’t tried. I may be a bad man, Sutton,” I stepped forward, three long strides closing the distance between us, “but even I wouldn’t stoop that low for sex and money or even drugs. I may be desperate, but I’m not pathetic.”
Unable to contro
l myself any longer, I reached up and cupped the side of her face in my hand. Her skin was silky, like the softest blanket you could imagine, and unblemished.
I didn’t deserve her, not for even a moment, but our pain brought us together. That pain would also be our downfall.
She placed her hand over mine and turned her head so that she could place a small kiss on the palm of mine.
“I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions and it was wrong of me,” she whispered, her eyes hooded.
“You’re right, it was wrong of you,” I breathed, my other hand finding the nape of her neck. “I think you need to make it up to me.”
She chuckled, her breath tickling the skin peeking out of the collar of my shirt. “And how do you expect me to do that?”
“Weeeeell,” I drew out the word, “I’ve never had sex on the roof.”
“And I’ve never had sex in a public place,” she nipped on my earlobe, “I’m liking what you’re thinking.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” I murmured, pulling her shirt off. I wanted her naked, like now.
We wasted no time undressing each other and when I sank inside her it was like coming home.
We were opposites in every way.
She was the Beauty to my Beast.
But somehow, together, we completed each other—each filling that desperate, aching, hole of loneliness left behind from trauma.
I knew that someone like Sutton, with a genuine heart, wouldn’t be with a guy like me if she didn’t have her own demons. I knew they ran deeper than the burn on her arm. She might never tell me, and that was okay, because I’d gladly take the now that I had with her. It wouldn’t last forever. People come and go from our lives all to often. I had nothing to offer her. She’d get sick of me and my addictions and leave eventually.
“Cael? Cael? Caelan?”
Her hand reached up to brush my cheek, forcing my gaze to hers. “Where’d you go?” She breathed.
Thrusting into her, I buried my head in her neck, and whispered, “I don’t know.”
“Harder,” she pleaded, pulling on my hair.
I couldn’t help smiling against her neck.
Beauty in the Ashes Page 15
