Beautifully Toxic (Toxic Love #1)

by L. M. Roberts

  I pride myself on being the best of the best, and I keep a firm eye on the people that I guard. I didn’t get where I am today by letting my OCD control me. I took control of that situation years ago.

  I thought she was toxic for me when I was younger, but in all reality, she’s the one who saved me. I don’t know how or when, but instead of being a want for me, she has become a need. A fierce need that simmered below the surface every second of every day. I was lost with her, and I didn’t like how that felt. I felt that way up until the day my mom killed herself with a drug overdose. Over the years, I’ve eventually come to terms with the fact that my love for my mother was never enough to be reciprocated. Instead of staying with her baby, she chose death.

  I often wonder if my mom chose the right path—if death for her was easier than life. It wasn’t that I was suicidal; I just wondered if she’d found peace. I’d like to think that she did.

  I feel my eyes begin to swell from pelting the bed with my face. I couldn’t move, nor did I really have any desire to. If this was what losing Sin was all about, I wanted no part of it. It’d almost killed me over the last decade, and I don’t wish to finish out another one without her by my side. I sigh, let my eyes drift closed, and dream.

  ***

  I slowly come to, and see the light from the window shining through the drapes. I furrow my brows, but wince from the pain. I wonder what woke me up? Just then I hear someone burst into a fit of laughter, and then the sound of footsteps getting closer to me. I close one eye and peer up with the other to see that all the boys are standing next to my bed, and they’re all wearing the same hysterical look on their face. I groan from my throbbing head. I must have knocked my damn self out, because I didn’t even know how long I had been down here. It was apparently long enough for the guys to completely sober up.

  “What the—” I began, but found just whispering was too loud for my over-sensitive ear drums.

  I wake up and smack my lips and tongue together, attempting to dispel the cottonmouth from last night’s drinking. Every time I got shitfaced, I’d complain I was never going to do that again, but that was bullshit! I know I’ll be right with those motherfuckers the next time they decide to go drinking again.

  “The fuck kind of shit were you doing last night?” Dane asks, coming to help me up.

  I groan in agony when I start stretching my back out. Lying out like that did me no favors at all. I’m only thirty-two, but my bones ache all the time—probably from all the fighting I used to do. I had bad hands, bad knees, and bad ankles. Some mornings I had to take more painkillers than I really wanted to just to be able to function like a man my age instead of an old man who needed to walk with a cane.

  “I think I done fucked up,” I whisper, because anything louder than that will burst my freaking ear drum.

  Dane helps me stand upright, and I stretch before turning to face the guys. They were instantly in stitches—bent over and grabbing their stomachs as they laughed. I eye them warily.

  “What is it?”

  Jon just started shaking his head and was about to say something until the voice from the doorway filtered through the room. Our eyes shot toward the door, and I could feel the blood leave my face. This was definitely not the reunion that I wanted to have today. Hell, I would gladly take a whipping from the bed every single day than have to deal with this shit.

  “It’s not what is it, Alex. It’s who fucked you up before I had the chance.” I see Sin’s brothers Dom and Chase standing near my bedroom door. Well, this wasn’t good. From the look on their faces, I instantly knew they weren’t here to talk all sunshine and rainbows with me. They were here to fuck me up even more.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sinclair

  I can’t believe no one is here. The fuck? Tonight was supposed to be the night we all got together at Mom and Dad’s to play board games; you know, like a normal family. I pulled up to the curb in front of their house, and I knew it wasn’t going to go as planned. Dom’s charger wasn’t in the driveway and neither was Chase’s crotch rocket—even though it’s cold enough out to freeze off your private parts. I swipe my finger across the screen of my phone, wondering if I got the date wrong. When I pulled up the calendar and it flashed Friday, I knew that something was amiss. We never skip out on these times together.

  I shut my car door and make my way to the house. All the lights are off, and everything lay silent at my feet. To be honest, I’m so freaking scared right now. Usually my parents’ house was the place to be on a Friday night. As I walk into the unknown, I’m in tune with the sounds and smells around me—the crisp leaves falling from the trees, the cold air blowing against my face, and the sound of my every footstep as I walk toward the house. Where is everyone? It’s like a freaking ghost town. There are no lights on and no cars in the driveway. But most important, my son was supposed to be here.

  Panic began to creep in, and I went from easy and cool to downright crazy woman. I couldn’t stand just walking toward the house anymore. I full out ran, my heeled boots giving me a run for my money. After almost tripping and falling on my face a few times, I finally got to the door and pushed it open.

  Everything was quiet—a little too quiet when I shut the door behind me. I treaded lightly through the house and made my way toward the kitchen. I was too scared to turn on the lights; anyone could jump out and scare the shit out of you. And it’s worse if they have a weapon—like a chainsaw. Yeah, I know, I’ve watched way too many horror films, and since it was so close to Halloween, I didn’t put it past any of my dipshit brothers to try and scare the shit out of me.

  “Hello,” I whisper to the darkness. Now that I’ve alerted any would-be killer to my position in the house, I’m still greeted with nothing.

  I feel on the wall for the light switch. My fingers came in contact with something wet and cold, and I jerked back from the wall. I didn’t know what the hell that was, but now I completely freak the fuck out and start running. God only knows what that shit was. I ran in the direction of what I think is the living room only to run into a damn wall and fall on my ass.

  I slowly get up from the floor rubbing my ass, and then feel in front of me. I sigh in relief when I feel the fridge. At least it wasn’t the damn ax murderer.

  I summon up a little courage and yell, “If you fuckers are playing a joke on me, Imma kick your ass!”

  Still nothing.

  I cock my head to the side again, and with fear like a lead weight in my stomach, I make for the living room again. This time, I take this shit slow after almost tripping over what I thought was the coffee table. Hell, for all I know, it could be a dead body on the floor. I shudder at the thought and finally find the light switch. I count to three in my mind and take a deep breath before I flip it on.

  “SURPRISE!!” I hear a chorus of shouts ring out behind me.

  I turn around, my eyes wide with fear, and then just freeze.

  Everyone is there. Mom, Dad, Scott, Triple-A, Sharon, Tracy, Dominique, and James. I furrow my eyebrows and look around at everyone standing in front of me. Well, everyone except Dom and Chase was here. Where were they?

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked whoever was listening, “Where’s Dom and Chase?”

  I see my dad look at the floor, and then peer through his lashes at my mom who looks like she swallowed a lemon. “They’re not here, apparently. Let’s just celebrate and play some board games!” she finishes with an excited squeal.

  I cock my head to the side, confused. “What are we celebrating?”

  Triple-A looks like I’ve just knocked the wind out of his sails. He slumps forward and falls on the couch. “Mom, please tell me you aren’t that forgetful?”

  I rack my brain for the reason we could be celebrating, but I come up empty. We usually go out to a restaurant or to the movies for something important. We’ve never actually stayed home and celebrated anything before. I was so confused.

  “I really have no idea,” I finally admi
t, and all three of my friend’s gasp.

  “Really?” Sharon and Tracy say in unison.

  I put my purse down beside the couch and shrug my shoulders. “Really, really,” I confirm.

  I wasn’t going to admit that it was driving me insane not being able to figure out why they had the house decorated to the nines, or why they were wearing those funny looking pointed black hats. I stalk to the fridge and grab a beer from inside. I pop the top and head back to a room full of struck-silent people just staring at each other. What the hell?

  “Why does everyone look like they just buried their cat?” I ask, noticing Triple-A beginning to shake his head back and forth.

  “Pappy, I think it’s time we admit her to the crazy house.” Triple-A let out with a chuckle.

  I narrow my eyes. “I am not crazy, Alex Andrew Adams.”

  He made this oohing motion with his mouth and hands. “Ooh, she used my full name. I must be in some serious trouble now.”

  Teenagers and their attitude. A belt and some time with a busted ass always did them good.

  I just roll my eyes and walk the rest of the way to the couch, looking down at my son. “I have no idea why everyone is dressed like they’re going to a funeral and the decorations are more fitting for a wake instead of a celebration. So, please forgive me for not getting all excited.”

  He shoots me a knowing smirk. “Now that you say that, it is like a wake,” he says before looking at me and getting choked up from laughing. “Happy thirtieth birthday, Mom.”

  Well, I feel like a bitch.

  My face softens, and I sit down on the side of the couch. “I’m sorry, baby boy. I, uh… Damn, I forgot all about it being my birthday.”

  He gives me a half-assed nod and turns away from me. God, I feel like shit. They were only trying to make everything special for me, and here I was acting completely self-centered. I didn’t acknowledge that these people were here to support me. I was such a shitty parent, friend, and daughter. Why was I constantly fucking everything up?

  To hell.

  The only thing that I’d done right in my life up to now was be a great mom to Triple-A, but from the look on his face, I shot that to shit the moment I walked through the door and went on the defensive.

  “I’m sorry, you guys,” I whisper and release a drawn out sigh. “So much has happened that I honestly didn’t know what day it was.”

  I look up at all of them and see small smiles tugging at their lips. They all knew the shit storm that I was going through. And I hoped they’d not hold it against me.

  “It’s all right, baby girl,” my father says. “From what I’ve seen, I understand how all your days seem to be running together. But since you know what day it is now, let’s fucking party!” he finishes with a yell.

  He pushes a button on the cd player and the music instantly comes to life and thumps off the thin walls of their house. I fell back against the couch when Triple-A jumped off the couch and started dancing like there was no tomorrow. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread over my face while I watched everyone having such a good time. However, I still had the feeling that something was missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I knew that it was something important.

  Taking a sip of my beer, I eased up from the couch, determined to make this the most memorable birthday ever. I started swaying my hips to the music. I felt someone come up behind me and saw that it was James. I smiled, narrowed my eyes, and playfully slapped his chest.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been at the tattoo shop all day.”

  He releases a panty-dropping smile. “That’s because it was supposed to be a surprise. There was no way I was taking Junior’s thunder.”

  I glance over my shoulder to see Triple-A dancing with my three best friends. Turning my attention back to James, I whisper, “This was all his idea?”

  He nods his head. “Affirmative. He’s been planning this for weeks. He’s been working at the tattoo shop on your days off to afford everything you see here.”

  My eyes immediately glass up with tears. My son gave up his valuable time in order to make my birthday something to remember. No thirteen-year-old boy would do that for his mom in today’s time. They were all about going out and hanging with their friends. From the looks of him, no one would know that Triple-A’s favorite past time was sitting at home with me watching Jeopardy. He would deny it all day long, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

  We stay home and watch the game show almost every night. I was actually getting tired of doing that, but I knew that he loved doing it, so I’ve never mentioned doing something else. Triple-A wasn’t your regular boy. He was a man in a teenager’s body. I hate that he had to grow up as fast as he has, but it couldn’t be helped. Being a single mom left no time for me to give him the attention that I wanted to when he was younger. I had to work two—sometimes three—jobs just in order to put food on the table. Until I got this job at Get Inked, we were scrounging around for the bare essentials. At least now we were able to enjoy life a little bit.

  I suck in a sharp breath, willing the tears to stay where they were. “I can’t believe he did all this.”

  James nods. “I agree. You have a very special boy—one that really needs a father.”

  My eyes shoot to his and I begin shaking my head back and forth slowly. “No… James, you know I can’t do that.”

  A slow song came on, and he pulls me to him. He presses his lips against my ear and whispers. “Why? What’s so wrong with that?”

  “I survived him once, James. I won’t be able to do it again,” I whisper back, pressing my face into his neck.

  “What makes you think it will be like last time?” he asks. “He might actually surprise you, Sin.”

  “I just know his type, James. He’s a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em type.”

  He pats my back and pulls me closer. “Sin, I’ve known the guy for a few months. He’s not like all the other ones, okay? You have his son, and he doesn’t even know about it. But I will tell you something right now, Sin. If that were me, I would be pretty freaking pissed.”

  “I know,” I groan. “But how do you tell Alex something like this? You know how he is. He has a short fuse, spews vile words, and doesn’t know what he says actually hurts people.”

  I feel him shrug, and I pull back to look at his face. He grips my chin with his thumb and pointer finger. “I don’t know, Sin, but you can’t run from this forever. Eventually, this shit is going to come back to bite you in the ass. It’s time to stand up, put on those big girl panties you girls like to talk about so much, and handle your shit.”

  He pulls away from me when my brother, Scott, cuts in for a dance with the birthday girl. James was right. I needed to tell Alex about Triple-A. If it were me in his situation, I would be pissed too. I would want to know that I had a child. I had my mind made up to do this before, and then Alex saw Triple-A and I freaked and ran out of the shop before I could tell him. It also didn’t help that I was in such a compromising position when Triple-A found us.

  I’ve asked my son repeatedly if what he saw bothered him, and he said it would for any child his age to see their parents like that. I get where he’s coming from, but I still felt like he was holding something back—something he wanted me to know, but was too afraid to tell me. I didn’t like this distance between us. It’s never been like with him and me.

  I come out of my thoughts and giggle. Scott has been making his monkey face and trying to get my attention the whole time we’ve been dancing. I slap him, and he feigns hurt, before quickly returning to his usual self.

  “Thanks for coming,” I say.

  He shrugs. “Free beer and my older sister has officially hit cobweb—woman with a million cat’s territory.”

  I roll my eyes. “You fucker. Just wait until you hit thirty.”

  “It’s going to be epic,” he says with a smile. “We’re going to get so fucked up we can’t even remember if we got a dick dangling between our legs or br
easts on our chest.”

  The song has now changed to a fast number, but I find that Scott isn’t in a hurry to go along with the beat. I can see the indecisiveness in his eyes, and I am chomping at the bit to know what he’s thinking. I don’t have to wait long, and it seems everyone here is touting Team Alex.

  “Sin, you have to tell the man that he’s a dad. Damn, I know that you’re skittish of his shit. I may have been young when that all happened, but I ain’t stupid, and I remember shit. You’ve had figurative blue balls for him since you were sixteen.”

  “It’s not that easy, Scott.” I shut my eyes and rock to the beat of the music. “Alex isn’t like us, okay?”

  I open my eyes when Scott stops swaying back and forth. He stands there and studies me for a minute before his lips thin out. “Tell him before I do, Sin. This is your last warning. You’re my sister, but you need to stop being a pansy. Dad didn’t raise us that way. Mom sure as hell didn’t raise us that way. “

  My mouth falls open in shock. Scott has never been that upfront with me. He was more of the quiet brother; the one that sat back and studied the people around him. He wasn’t an out front, in your face motherfucker. So I know what he was threatening, it was something that he would do.

  “I think your son wants a dance,” he says, and gives a small jerk of his chin.

  I turn around to see Triple-A standing next to us. Scott bows out gracefully, and I get ready for a round five hundred with my family when it came to Alex. But I knew deep down that if Triple-A wanted to know his father that I would go in the kitchen and call Alex. I knew it. Other people could ask me to do something, but if my son is the one doing the asking, I’ll break my neck trying to do it for him.

  “Hey, baby boy.” I smile and pull him in for a hug.