Irreparably Broken

by K J Bell

  I smile up at him. “Me, too. Looks like you’re having a good time.”

  “I’m having a fantastic fucking time.” He smiles a lopsided smile. His warm hand cups my cheek. “You look beautiful tonight, Tori.” His hand falls away, and blush dusts my cheeks from his compliment.

  An unnerving wave rolls through my gut. His words were lacking their usual sarcasm, sounding more adoring and sincere. I shake it off. He’s been drinking, right? We chat for a minute, and then he leaves me to go in search of another beer.

  When I finally find Harrison again, I start to pull him away from the party, fretting over how to let him down easy, when a guy who’s noticeably drunk approaches us with two hats in his hands.

  “Pick a number.” At least, that’s what I think he says. His words are slurred and sound like he’s swallowing his tongue. Harrison takes a number from the blue hat he's holding , and I pick a number out of the pink hat, although I have no idea what it’s for. I unfold the small square of paper revealing number 37.

  I hold the piece of paper in the air and look at Mr. Wobbly. “What is this for?”

  “We’re racing the jet skis later,” he answers, swaying in the sand.

  “Isn’t that illegal?” Harrison asks.

  “Yes, that’s why we wait until it’s dark.” The guy answers rudely. Clearly he thinks Harrison is an imbecile for not knowing.

  “What are the numbers for?” I ask.

  “They’re for a couple’s race. Once it’s dark, we’ll call two girl and two boy numbers, and couple them up to race.”

  I stuff the number in my pocket, watching the guy stumble away. Harrison and I laugh. “Wow! I hope I don’t end up on the back of a jet ski with that guy,” I joke.

  Harrison’s watching me apprehensively. “So, what’d you want to talk about?”

  “Harrison…I…”

  “Tor, thank God I found you.” Liv yanks on my arm, teetering in the sand, and points a finger down the beach. “Those assholes stole all my money in poker, and I need you to get it back.”

  I shake my head, irritated that she’s interrupted my chance to send Harrison packing. “Liv, how many times have I told you not to play poker? Honestly, you suck at it.”

  She stomps her feet in the sand. “I thought I could win this time. Can you help me get my money back, please?”

  “Fiiiine. Come on.” I grab her hand and stumble through the sand toward the table where a group of guys are playing poker.

  Harrison follows us. “You play poker?”

  “She doesn’t just play poker, she kills it,” Liv brags. “You have to see this, Harrison.”

  When I arrive at the table, it’s packed with college-age guys all acting as though they’ve seen one too many Texas Hold ’Em tournaments on television. As I watch a few hands, I laugh, noticing each and every one of these clowns has a tell. One guy has his hoodie pulled up over his head and the strings drawn in tightly around his face to hide his expressions. Too bad for him, he yanks on the strings every time he’s bluffing. The guy in the sunglasses pushes them up the bridge of his nose whenever he has a decent hand. Another guy spins his watch. Each and every one of them is a sucker destined to give back Liv’s money…and any money they brought into the game.

  Taking a seat next to the guy in the hoodie, I wink, throw my money down, and collect my chips. He laughs and nods condescendingly to his friend. They don’t have any idea what’s coming. They assume I’m some drunk girl they’re about to take advantage of. I can’t wait to show them how wrong they are. Before the next hand is dealt, I hear a voice that sends shivers from the nape of my neck to the tips of my toes.

  “I’m in,” Brady tells the dealer, tossing cash on the table and quirking an ill-behaved brow at me.

  Shit! I’m an unbeatable poker player, unless I’m playing against the very shark who taught me how to play. Brady introduced both Liv and me to the game in our teens when he would let us sit in on games with his friends. Liv never quite got the hang of it, but I caught on immediately and after a while could beat most of Brady’s friends. I’ve spent countless hours in front of the mirror working on my poker face. Remembering the night I decided I was ready to challenge Brady, I smile. I was positive I could beat him. At fifteen, I brought every bit of allowance I’d earned to the table with me, along with all the confidence in the world. In a few short hands, Brady took every dime I had that night.

  “You’re not going to keep all of my hard-earned allowance, are you, Brady?” I recall asking him.

  “First lesson in gambling, Tori,” Brady had told me. “Never gamble that which you are not prepared to lose.” He’d scooped up every last coin from the table and left me fuming mad and vowing revenge.

  Tonight, it’s finally time for a little retribution.

  He slides a chair in next to me, and leans in close. He smells amazing, as he always does, sending my thoughts back to him kissing my neck up against the car earlier. I suddenly want to snatch Brady’s hand and take him somewhere private. Liv doesn’t need her money back, right?

  “I hope you’ve been practicing, Victoria,” he says confidently, tossing me a haughty grin.

  His arrogance, along with the provocative use of my first name, infuriates me. Nope, I’m not leaving. I’m staying here and wiping that superior look right off his gorgeous face.

  “Oh, it’s on, Brady Hunter,” I promise, narrowing my eyes at him. He chuckles and glides his hand from my knee to my inner thigh. My body reacts instantly until I realize his touch is meant to distract me. “Keep your hand to yourself,” I whisper in his ear, pushing his hand away.

  He groans and then winks at me.

  As the game progresses, the weak play out after a few hands, followed by sunglasses guy, watch guy, and then finally the cat in the hoodie. Brady and I are the two remaining players, as I’d expected, and our chips are fairly even.

  We’ve drawn quite a large crowd. People are behind us, chatting and making side bets. I glare at Brady through a few hands, never changing my expression no matter how many times he “unintentionally” brushes up against me. He’s winning every damn hand and is gloating very loudly. The next hand is dealt, and soft, warm lips are on mine. And they don’t belong to the man sitting next to me.

  “A kiss for luck,” Harrison says after kissing me.

  Brady’s whole body goes rigid, and I watch his jaw shifting back and forth. Liv’s eyes go wide, staring at her brother. To my surprise, Brady glowers at Harrison briefly but doesn’t punch him. I expected him to, and I know Harrison had better not try that again. I honestly fear for his safety if he does.

  Brady folds up the corner of his cards, and for the first time since I started playing cards with him, I notice he has a tell. How in the hell did I miss it in all the games we’ve played together? Maybe it’s because I’m more in tune with his body now than I’ve been in the past. The corner of his lip definitely curled slightly – unless, of course, he wanted me to see so I would conclude he has a good hand. That has to be it. Brady doesn’t do anything unintentionally, especially when it comes to poker. I draw two cards, and Brady keeps the hand he was dealt.

  After glancing at my cards quickly, I look up at him, straight-faced. It doesn’t matter what Brady has. The odds are in my favor with this one. “I’m all in,” I announce. The crowd cheers, and Brady looks amused. If he calls, it will cost him all of his chips and I will finally beat him.

  “Interesting,” he murmurs, and leans back in his chair. His thumb is under his chin, and he taps his top lip with his index and middle finger alternately. His breathing remains calm and he keeps his eyes on me, waiting for me to give something away. I refuse to budge.

  After several minutes watching Brady tap his lip, I can’t take it anymore. “Just make a decision already.”

  Looking right through me with those piercing green eyes, he says, “I call.” Laying down his cards, he smiles cheekily.

  When I look down at Brady’s hand, there are three tens and two jacks
.

  “Full house, Sunshine. Better luck next time.”

  I sit up straight and confident. “Nice hand, but my hearts beat your full house. Read ’em and weep.” Pride pours out of me as I lay down my cards face up, five through nine, all hearts. “Straight flush, baby. Pay up!” I dance in my seat, I’m so happy.

  While everyone is clapping and paying off side bets, Brady’s hand inches up my thigh. He leans in close to my ear and whispers, “Oh, I plan to pay up later, Tori.”

  “Why wait? Let’s get out of here,” I suggest brazenly, nodding toward the parked cars.

  Harrison leans down right in between me and Brady to hug me. “Tori, that was awesome.”

  Harrison stands back up, and I look at Brady, who mouths, Take care of him first.

  I stand, and at the exact moment I start to say the words to Harrison, a guy jumps up on the table, announcing it’s time to call numbers for the couples race to kick off the jet racing. He’s speaking through a megaphone, so having a conversation with Harrison right here is out of the question.

  I dig around in my pocket for the slip of paper with my number on it, even though I remember it’s 37. The guy calls the couple for the first race, numbers 23 and 58. Two people I have never met come over and give the guy their numbers. He hands them wetsuits. The guy pulls a number for the next couple; the guy is 11.

  Harrison walks up, laughing. “Can you believe it? I’m number 11. Time to kick some ass.”

  Then I hear, “With girl number 37.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m trying to dump the guy, and one thing after another tonight has stopped me from doing it. I reluctantly hold up my ticket, and the guy hands me a wetsuit. I do love to ski, and racing is always a blast. It’s the adrenaline junkie in me. Since I’ve never been coordinated enough for team sports, or those requiring balance, I’ve developed a fondness for jet skiing.

  Brady is at my side instantly, pulling me away from the crowd. Once we’re a good distance away, he stops. “You’re not riding with him.”

  His grip on my arm hurts, and I twist to get away. I’m completely taken aback. “Why not?”

  His eyes bore into me. “I’ve warned you already. I don’t trust Harrison.”

  “Are you serious, Brady? Harrison won’t hurt me.”

  “I’m dead serious. You’re not fucking riding, Tori.” He’s adamant.

  Now I’m irritated, and I consider telling him to go home. This jealous boyfriend thing isn’t working for me. “Is this about your continual pissing contest with him?”

  He closes his eyes and swallows. When they open, he doesn’t look at me. “No, I just don’t want you to ride with him.”

  I take a step toward him. “Bullshit. Something is up with the two of you, and I told you before, if you don’t want to tell me, fine, but don’t expect me to dislike him because of it.”

  He’s huffing and mumbling into his chest. “Fuck! Don’t do this. It’s dangerous.”

  “Brady, you’re overreacting. It’s just a friendly race. It’ll be over before you know it, and then I’ll I tell Harrison I only want to be friends.” I lick my lips, brushing my palm over his chest and down his stomach suggestively. My hand finally stops at his cock. “And then we’ll get out of here and you can have your way with me.” My actions and my words surprise me. Something about Brady makes me more bold and willing to vocalize my thoughts.

  A low groan escapes his throat, and the anger in his eyes softens. “You’re going to ruin me, Sunshine. You know that, right?”

  “I hope so.” I smile and press a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s just a race. It’ll be over quickly, and we’ll leave. I promise.”

  “Just be careful, please.” Brady pulls me against him by my arm and kisses me on the forehead. With his lips against my skin, he says, “Whatever you do, don’t let go on the turn.”

  “You ready?” Harrison interrupts.

  Having not heard him approach us, I’m beyond annoyed by his presence. I wonder how much he heard.

  “Yep.” I smile at Brady. He’s glaring at Harrison, and his hands are at his sides. His fingers folded slightly, ready to form fists.

  “She’ll be right there, Harrison.”

  Harrison doesn’t move.

  “You can go now.” There’s a warning edge to Brady’s voice, and I pray Harrison’s smart enough leave.

  “Okay. I’ll be waiting.” Harrison looks confused. I suspect he heard everything Brady and I were talking about. He looks at me with pleading eyes and then walks away.

  Chapter 23

  Tori

  After taking off my shorts and T-shirt, I shrug a wetsuit on over my bathing suit. I kiss Brady on the cheek and make my way over to the crowd surrounding the jet skis. I climb on the jet ski behind Harrison, and slide up close to him. When I look back at Brady, he’s pacing, and I can’t tell if he’s angry or worried.

  Harrison twists his head to look at me and then glares at the guy on the ski next to us. “Hold on tight, Tori. I plan on winning this thing.”

  The guy flips Harrison off. Harrison laughs and returns the gesture. I’m suddenly nervous. Harrison is obviously a competitive guy. I unhook the front of my life vest so that I can get closer to Harrison and latch my fingers together tightly around his waist.

  Two skis with riders take off into the water, disappearing into the black abyss in front of us. They’ll act as lookouts, watching for boaters or police on the water. If anything’s off, they’ll sound a horn so we don’t start the race.

  The drunk guy we got the tickets from stands on the shore, waiting to start the race. I glance up and down the beach, searching for Liv or Tug, but I don’t see either of them.

  When the whistle announces the start of the race, Harrison hits the throttle hard, and I fall back with so much force I nearly slide off the back of the ski. Thankfully, I catch Harrison around the waist at the last second.

  Spray from the water beats into my face like thousands of tiny pinpricks. I duck behind Harrison’s back to shield it somewhat. The faster the ski moves, the wetter I get.

  Harrison looks over at the other ski.

  “Fuck, I can’t let that little punk win. Hold on, Tori,” he shouts. I squeeze tighter, realizing Brady was right about this being dangerous.

  “You can’t take it any faster, Harrison – I can barely hold on,” I yell back. It’s obvious he can’t hear me over the sound of the engine and the ski against the water. Or maybe he’s choosing to ignore me.

  We’re approaching the turn and reach the point when I expect Harrison to slow down so he can make it cleanly, but he doesn’t. “You have to slow down. You’re going to kill us!” I scream.

  “I got this, Tori.”

  But he doesn’t have this. I’ve skied on these waters my entire life, and with two people on this ski, there’s no way to make the turn without slowing down. I squeeze my eyes closed, hold on for dear life, and pray.

  The second Harrison turns the ski, centrifugal force starts pulling me from him. Gravity wraps around my body like giant ropes and rips me from the ski. My arms slip from Harrison’s side and I try to dig my fingers into his life vest, but it’s wet and slick, and they won’t grip. I’m hurtling through the air at least five feet above the water. The life vest is ripped from my body and flies through the wind in the opposite direction. My skin stings on impact when I slap into the water. I’m instantly sucked under and struggle to the surface, gulping in air when I reach it.

  Right about now, I wish I hadn’t unlatched my life vest. As I struggle to turn over on my back, a giant swell pounds into the side of my head, forcing me to inhale more water. My lungs are on fire, and I can’t suck in a full breath. With no lights in sight, I start to panic. This is not good. I have to stay calm. If I don’t, then I am going to drown. I keep choking, which only makes me inhale more water, exacerbating the torment.

  When I hear the whine of an engine getting close, I relax slightly. I turn on my back and begin screaming loudly between
coughing and swallowing water so whoever it is will find me.

  “Tori!” Brady’s frantic voice pierces my ears before the splash hits me when he jumps into the water after me.

  Brady

  As I swim toward her, the only thing I care about is making sure she’s okay. I can’t believe Harrison kept riding after she fell off. When he reached the shore alone, I wanted to kill him, but the need to save her stopped me.

  I grab onto her wrist, and pull her through the water to me, holding her close against my chest. Getting the two of us back to the ski is difficult, as Tori keeps clawing at me, trying to stay above water. When we finally reach the ski, I help her climb up and hold on to the bumper until she stops coughing and I’m sure she’s okay. It’s freezing. Once the sun goes down, it takes the warmth out of the water with it. Having jumped on the ski without a wetsuit, I can barely feel my toes and fingers.

  Once Tori’s ready, I climb on the ski and drive us back to shore. When we hit the beach, Jesse is there with a blanket and wraps Tori in it.

  Harrison approaches her and slides one arm around her waist. “God, Tori. Are you all right? I’m so sorry.”

  That’s it – I can’t take it anymore. “Get your fucking hands off her,” I growl.

  “Fuck you,” he spits bravely and then looks at Tori, his hand still resting on her waist. “I’m sorry – I should have stopped, but I had the guy beat.”

  She drops the blanket and her palms slam forcefully into his chest. I can’t help smiling.

  “Are you crazy?” she shouts.

  Harrison looks stunned. “I knew Brady would save you. I heard you guys talking. You’re with him.”

  Tori looks at him with obvious aversion, and she pokes her finger into his chest. “So you left me out there because you were pissed?”

  Harrison glares over at me. “No, but I knew you’d be fine until he got there.”

  Tori shoves him again, and I laugh. Here I thought I would need to defend her and then justify it. Much to my delight, I can see I was wrong. She can definitely take care of herself.