Michael swiftly followed, spun her around and pinned her there against it—his stronger hand above her head. Involuntarily, his other was cradling her cheek, as best he could with a bandage, while he glued their bodies together in every other possible way.
“Tell me, damn it. Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll let you walk out that door, out of my life right fucking now, just tell me.” What started as a whisper quickly rose in volume. Yelling wasn’t his plan, but being this raw, he was doing it all the same. And finally, so was she.
“I can’t do that, Michael, you know I can’t. I already told you how badly I want you, but I can’t, we can’t.” She shouted right back in his face.
Voices and tempers continued to rise. “Why the fuck not? Is it your boyfriend? I thought that was over as soon as you got back to your cabin? I don’t see the fucking problem, unless you were lying, and it’s more serious between the two of you than you let on? Is that it, Tori? Just say the word, I have no desire to be the other man. I’ve been on that side before, and wouldn’t do that to another man, no matter how much of an asshole he is.”
The look that crossed her face was wholly unreadable. Michael tried to decipher it but couldn’t. So, he soldiered on. He needed to get her to drop her cool and collected demeanor and say whatever it was that was holding her back.
“So, is that it? Your boyfriend? Is that what has the restraints on you?”
“Yes, damn it. Yes.”
That did it. His tone went from high volume anger to low and menacing. He could hear it and wanted to pull back, but couldn’t. Not if she was like Tonya. No fucking way. Nothing was worse.
“So, it’s not over, you would cheat, Hell, you already have. Not in body, but in heart. The things you said. The…”
She interrupted him with explosive anger. “That’s fucking low and way off the mark. I am nothing like that you asshole.”
“Then what? What about your boyfriend is keeping you out of my bed them, hmm?”
“It’s Richard, okay. It’s your fucking asshole brother.” Tori shouted at top volume, then breathed, “Richard is my boyfriend.”
Everything, every fucking thing in the world stilled for Michael. Earth, planets…time. Sound didn’t exist, neither did sight. It was black and cold, like a fucking vacuum. Nothing existed, nothing but pervasive pain.
He was wrong, there was something worse than being like Tonya. His hand had stilled the moment he comprehended the words she spoke. Now, he jumped back, rubbing his hands on his jeans like they were coated in something vile that needed to be washed away immediately. The rubbing stung his injured hand like a bitch, he hissed and brought it to the other one to examine it, but not really.
All he saw was Richard’s hands all over this woman, a woman who almost had him believing in love at first sight. How could she? How could she do that to him? Give him so much hope, the promise of healing, and then fucking pull it away.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right. Tell me this is your idea of a fucked up joke.” Shit, Michael didn’t even recognize his own voice. It sounded threatening and filled with the pain of someone who just swallowed razor blades.
How could she? How could she fucking hurt me like that?
“No, Michael, it’s not a joke. I wish it was, but sadly it’s not. We’ve been together a couple of years now and…”
“STOP! Just fucking stop. I can’t take it. You know he’s married, right? You’re okay with that? Being one of his mistresses? I’d thought better of you.” Cruelty was his only point. He really didn’t want to be that kind of guy, but here he was, lobbing bombs hoping for a hit, and he got one.
“Stop, don’t be a fucking prick. I am not one of his mistresses.” She air quoted. “I found out about his wife months ago, but their marriage was over long before I met him. They just never divorced for the sake of the kids. He has his own place and…”
“What the hell?” Michael turned away from her to pace the small space. The burning pain in his hand was accompanied by a slow drip onto the bamboo flooring; he had white knuckled his fists so hard, he started bleeding again.
“I can’t decide if you’re ignorant or just delusional. He’s cheating on everyone, including you. And not just with his wife, oh no, that asshole has to spread that shit around. I’ve seen them you know. More than one has ended up at Planned Parenthood, and not just for abortions if you know what I mean.” He turned on her then, with righteous fury and another bomb to throw her direction.
“You should get tested for gonorrhea, or maybe it’s syphilis, I can’t remember, but he got if from some stripper about four months ago. I found out because my drummer got the call, they banged the same fucking stripper.” Just in case that wasn’t quite enough to hurt her, he added. “Thank God you turned me down, I would’ve had to take my own life if I got an STD from one of my brother’s whores.”
The reverberation from the fucking right hook she laid on him was deafening, or maybe that was the ringing in his head. Fuck, if this chick couldn’t give Rousey a run for her money. “You fucking prick. How dare you? You obviously wanted me pissed, so congratulations, the sandman granted you your fucking dream, asshole. First, don’t ever speak to me like that again. If you do, I will bury a knife in your gut then cry to the jury pretty enough to get off with time served. Secondly, I haven’t slept with Richard for over half a year because I knew this relationship was going nowhere. Thirdly, I’m not anyone’s whore, not your brother’s and never yours. Fourth, or whatever fucking number I’m on, his marriage has been over for years.” She started to storm out when she turned around to presumably, finish him off.
“And another thing. I could stoop to your level and be cruel because I didn’t get what I wanted, but I’m better than that, it’s not who I am, so I’ll leave you with this. Dr. Thomas Beckett, he’s a therapist that specializes in male sexual trauma out of Holmes County. Give him a call, he’s the best in his field, he takes volunteer cases, and I’ll make sure to leave your name with him as soon as I get home. He can make you feel whole again, Michael, and help you move past what you’ve suffered. That way, you won’t need to hurt someone else to make yourself feel better. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
No, no fucking way does she get to flounce out of here on the high ground after ripping my heart out. She doesn’t get to be fucking nice and rob me of seeing her crumble. Michael didn’t stop to analyze that fucked-up-six-ways-to-Sunday thought, or he might have realized what a fucking dick bag he really was. Instead, he grabbed her arm, halting her exit.
“You don’t get to just prance out of here and bury your head in the sand. I have no proof about the STD’s or the parade of young women he’s been keeping time with, but I do have something you need to see. If nothing else, it will make a point about his so-called ex-wife. Then you can gather your shit and run back to the cocksucker for all I care.”
Not giving her time to respond, Michael rushed to the coffee table for his laptop, towing her by the wrist—the same coffee table where she’d sat and tended his wound, where he’d glimpsed her fucking beautiful cunt. Now, where he would break her spirit. He opened up his laptop, cued a video, and turned it toward her. He rose to his full height and pointed, “Just push play. I dare you.”
Yep, he had pegged her correctly. She was not one to back down. She walked toward the screen with all the grace of a fucking duchess entering a ball. She sat primly where she had before and clicked the arrow.
Michael didn’t need to watch the video to know what she was seeing and when. He’d watched it at least one hundred times, debating if he should call Sandra, Richard’s wife, and tell her all his dirty secrets. Instead, he watched Tori, wanting to see his handiwork first hand.
The video opened with two people’s hands making a heart. As it panned out, the shadow of the heart was reflected onto the sugar sands of the Emerald Coast. As it continued to zoom out, the people attached to the hands would slowly enter the frame, sharing a kiss above the shadow on the beach and th
e hands.
Tori was almost smiling at first, the heart and the bodies coming into focus being intimate was a sight someone like her would adore. Ah, her face started to fall with comprehension and confusion as the kissing couple’s faces entered the frame fully and came into focus—Richard and a four and a half month pregnant Sandra.
The video continued its zoom out. The couple broke their kiss and moved their faces away from each other, revealing letters written in the sand, above their still-interlocked hands.
IT’S A BOY!
Horror, that’s what he saw on Tori’s stunning face, as the meaning of the words on the screen sunk in. Horror, hurt, and betrayal shimmered in her eyes. She raised them to Michael, and those feelings were directed right toward him. Not at Richard, but at him.
And that’s when Michael finally let the gravity of what he’d just done settle into his soul. He had wanted to hurt her, hadn’t he? Well, that was his goal anyway, but not like this, not really. He realized just how fucked up he was and how fucked up this whole situation was when he felt her pain.
When he thought of Richard touching her, making love to her, it triggered something in him. Something he didn’t know existed, something ugly and black. The minute he really understood she was truly done with Richard, and everything in her heart right here and now was for him, a piece of him that could have been salvaged by her died a horrible writhing death.
Richard hadn’t betrayed her—she was already on to him—Michael had. She pretty much knew what an asshole his brother was, and was dealing with it in her own way. Michael had wanted her to see a disgusting side of Richard, but all he’d exposed to her was a disgusting side of himself.
God fuck it all, he was going to burn in hell for breaking this beautiful strong woman. Richard had apparently tried to do that for years, yet he did it in hours. All Richard had managed to do was knock her down. She was resilient. Just in the short time he’d been blessed to know her, he could see her getting up and dusting herself off to rise from the ashes, like a beautiful, sexy phoenix, but he’d done it. He’d knocked her down and good.
Michael laughed inside at the cruel twist of fate that he’d finally beaten his brother at something, but it had to be this. Well played God, well played.
“Tori, I’m…fuck, I shouldn’t. I mean, shit. I didn’t mean…” Tori couldn’t listen to another freaking syllable out of his mouth. She rose from the coffee table at the same time she silenced him with a hand in the air.
“No, you don’t get to explain or apologize or whatever bullshit you’re going to shovel out by the truckloads. You did what you set out to do. Congratulations. You took a bad situation and made it ten fucking times worse. You hurt me just as you wanted to. I will say bravo, an Oscar worthy performance, you should be proud. I thought you were different, the type of man I could see myself falling in love with one day.”
Gathering her stuff from where she’d dropped it bought her a few seconds to also gather her wits. She couldn’t believe what she’d just revealed, and as much as she didn’t want to continue, she needed to. Things left unsaid would only fester and poison her, not him. She would lay it all out there and let him deal with the fall out because once she left this cabin, she would forget about Michael Brande and never look back or have the chance to say things. Best get on with it then.
“You want to know something else, something really ironic. I felt an immediate and overwhelming connection to you the minute our eyes met in the plane. All I could think about was a way to find you, look you up after all this mess with Richard was concluded. The desire I felt for you was…oppressive for lack of a better explanation. Something I have never experienced before and most likely never will again. I guess I should thank you for that, a chance to feel something new. But the ironic part? The only reason I didn’t sleep with you and give in to that need to be close to you, was because I didn’t want to hurt you. A sentiment we obviously do not share.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “The minute I realized who you were, I knew that to lead you on would be cruel beyond measure. I even tried to work it out in my head where we might take a shot at something down the road, but I couldn’t. I knew you would feel betrayed once you learned who my boyfriend was. No matter if that information came today, next week, or next year. I accepted the truth of that, and was ready to walk out that door on good terms with no actions hanging over our heads, your head, that would bring you pain later. So there, I said what I needed to say for my own peace of mind. I’ll leave you to deal with yourself. I would like to say I wish you the best in life, and with time, I’m sure I can, but those words from my mouth would be a lie on this day.”
Tori practically ran out of the cabin. She needed to get away from Michael before she started crying. Not over Richard and his baby or his diseases, but because she really did believe that what she and Michael shared was magnificent and genuine. Apparently she had greatly overestimated it, and him. Maybe Richard wasn’t the biggest asshole in the Brande clan after all.
Fuck, she may have overestimated the man, but she had underestimated this storm. Just when she thought she could make a clean getaway, she heard Michael from the direction of the cabin. “Tori, please come back. Let me explain. Fuck. TORI! Get back here, you can’t go out in this storm, you’ll never make it to the main cabin.”
He was probably right, but she refused to spend one more second with that man. She’d rather freeze to death in a storm.
“Seriously, you have to come back. You can’t be out in this weather. Please come back.” Michael was shouting, she was sure of it, but the wind was driving toward her, making his sound carry the other way. Her pain was so raw, she wanted to hurt him, so she did something she’d never done, used someone’s demon against them. She knew with the wind driving that way, she wouldn’t even have to shout to be heard, so she spoke naturally.
“You do you, cowboy, and I’ll do me. Besides, I have competed in a Triathlon, so I’m pretty tough and think I can handle a mile in the snow. Goodbye, and seriously, get some help.”
Self-loathing settled in the minute she started speaking. It was juvenile and cruel, no better than what he had done. Tori prayed he wouldn’t hear it, but the slamming of the door broke through the howling wind, and she knew he had.
She couldn’t worry about him right now. She had another asshole to deal with, an asshole with a pregnant wife and an STD. If she wasn’t half-frozen by the time she reached the cabin, she would have dropped to her knees and thanked the little baby Jesus in a tuxedo shirt that she had stopped sleeping with him well before he got it, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t getting tested the minute she hit civilization.
The hike through the driving snow failed to cool her anger, which wasn’t her norm. Tori didn’t stew about things as a rule. She gave them their due, and moved on. Mostly, she was furious with Michael, but now with Richard, too. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together and she hated the picture that was emerging.
If Tori had thought for one minute that Richard had cared where she was all fucking day or had any concerns for her welfare in a storm, she damn sure didn’t anymore.
“Where the fuck have you been, and why are you tracking in an ass ton of snow? It’s dripping on the rug for Christ’s sake,” he scolded, then turned to walk away and she heard him mumble. “Stupid cow, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
That was it, Tori snapped. The Brande men had gone way too far today. If she’d had a knife, she would have plunged it in his left kidney and twisted.
“You don’t? Well let me tell you what you saw, because I’m pretty sure I’ve got a handle on it. You saw a woman who you wanted to fuck, screw the fact that you’re married. You wanted what you wanted. You saw a woman you could beat into submission with a harsh tongue. A woman who would buy you all the expensive shit you couldn’t afford, one that wouldn’t ask too many questions. Who’d suck your dick and not ask for a commitment so you could go on with your life, as is, with just a bit more
sex and a lot more money. How am I doing so far?”
Richard turned on her with mop in hand, extended as an offer. “What the hell are you going on about? You’re standing there running your mouth when you should be cleaning up that puddle of slush falling off of you onto the rug and the hardwood.”
“God, you’re a bigger fucking asshole than I was giving you credit for. Do you talk to your wife that way? Your stripper? Or any of the other legions of women you’re fucking?” Tori relished the touch of comprehension starting to dawn on his face.
“I don’t know what you’re smoking, Torionna, but you aren’t making any sense. I think you might be losing it a bit. You should get one of your head doctor friends to prescribe you something.”
“Oh, screw you, Richard, I don’t have time for your games. Speaking of prescriptions, were you ever going to tell me about the STD? You’d think I’d be hurt by your blatant disregard for my health, trying to sleep with me all these months knowing you caught crotch rot from a stripper, but no, I’m not. I am madder than an old wet hen though. Not just for myself, but for your wife.” Finally, that got his attention, and his arrogant air suddenly deflated.
“And your unborn son.”
“God, you always were such a bitch. My wife and son are none of your concern. Do you want to know why I brought you up here, Tori? To fucking dump you. I figured I would let you fuck me for a month or so, as a going away present, then send you back with that pilot and never have to look into your fucking ice queen face again. No man will ever care for you. You will die alone will a hundred fucking cats in a cheap apartment, a crazy dried up old biddy, now, get the fuck out.”
Wow, Tori didn’t think Richard could shock her or hurt her again, but damn if he didn’t just bring his A-game.
“Does she know? Does Sandra know? About me, the stripper? The fact that her son will be born diseased because his father couldn’t keep his skinny prick in his…” Tori didn’t get to finish that barbed question. Before she knew it, Richard had his hands around her throat and they were on the floor, him on top of her choking the life’s breath from her body and cursing.
Brand Me (Imagine Ink Book 2) Page 9
