Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken

by Michelle Hardin

  She didn’t have to do all she did for both him and Sofia, and Kyle had told her on more than one occasion that she did too much, but ever the kind-hearted giver, Reanna always dismissed him when he said such things. She once told him, “If I didn’t want to do nice things for you and my baby—what she called Sofia—then I wouldn’t. I do what I do because I want to, Kyle, not because I think I have to.”

  Her answer had been so simple, yet meaningful. Kyle had had no choice but to shut his mouth. He wasn’t going to keep fighting her on it. Although, as he’d said, he was constantly confused about the feelings he had for her, the fact of the matter was that he loved being around Reanna. And it was wrong of him, yes, to call on her for help as often as he did, to expect her cooking, her presence, her comfort whenever he and his daughter needed her. It was wrong of him. Wrong of him to monopolize her time, her energy. After all, she was a young and beautiful single woman. Maybe she wanted to date, or … you know, have a family of her own with a man that wasn’t a complete fucking idiot like him.

  She deserved that … to be happy.

  Kyle shook his head, disliking the directions of his thoughts. Though he cared for Reanna very much, and he wanted her to have all the happiness in the world, thinking of her with another man made him a bit homicidal.

  “All done.”

  Her brightly toned voice hit his ears before he even noticed she entered the living room area. Shaking his head, he frowned. Seriously, how the hell did the woman keep sneaking up on him like that?

  She strolled across the living room holding a very nice tray—that Kyle hadn’t even known he owned— full of food that smelled so damn good, Kyle’s mouth was starting to water.

  “That smells amazing, Reanna.”

  She smiled, giving a smug nod of her head. “I know,” she bragged. “It’s my best lasagna yet.” Once she made it to where he sat, she set the food on the coffee table in front of him, placing it a distance away, then walked around and perched on the coffee table directly in front of him, and crossed her legs Indian-style. “Too bad you don’t get to eat it …”

  At her words, Kyle immediately frowned. “What?” he asked, confused.

  “I said you don’t get to eat it.”

  Taking a chance, he reached out for his delicious food, pulling away when she smacked his hand.

  He laughed, surprised that she’d hit him. “Reanna—”

  “I said you can’t have any,” she chuckled. She reached over and picked up the beautifully made plate of lasagna, and sunk a large fork into the cheesy masterpiece. “That is until you tell me why it is that you woke up screaming in the middle of the night.”

  Kyle’s mouth dropped open. Oh shit, she heard me? “Reanna, I—”

  “Kyle,” she cut him off with a stern look and shook her head, “save us both some time, and don’t give me the run around.” She sighed exaggeratedly. “I know your kind … hell, I am your kind. We never want to talk about our inner demons, we wanna keep all of it locked up inside because we’re loners, the broken people. We don’t like pity, and we can’t stomach the advice of those that can’t possibly understand our inner torture.” Suddenly, her expression became serious. “I understand, Kyle. Whatever it is that you’re going through, I understand, because I’ve been there. I know pain, and pain recognizes pain ...” A sweet smile graced her lips as she sat the plate in her lap, then motioned for him to scoot forward on the couch.

  “And what about you then?” he asked, moving forward as she beckoned. “The pain you know, that you recognize in me … when will you unburden yourself of your ‘inner torture’, like you consistently, and boldly insist I do?”

  Kyle had always wanted to ask her that question. It seemed like every time they were together, he’d be the one doing all of the talking while she listened, lending him her support, her wisdom, her shoulder. But lately, Kyle found himself wanting more than that. As his feelings for her grew, his desire to know her more grew right along with them. But she continuously denied him when he’d ask her. Most likely for good reason, but still … he was a selfish man and he longed to be the man in which she felt comfortable enough to lay herself bare with. He didn’t deserve it, but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting it, or her …

  “Why don’t we talk about you tonight?” he said, reaching for her hand. “Aren’t you tired of talking about me?”

  She shook her head, her expression remaining sweet. “No,” she answered simply. “We’ll talk about you.”

  Being denied something he wanted from a woman was something Kyle was neither used to, nor did he particularly like, but Reanna made it a chore to deny him. More and more as his confusing need for her grew, he resented her resistance—just as he was positive she resented his.

  “Reanna …”

  “It’s not going to happen, Kyle Valente,” she laughed lightly, keeping the mood playful. “Unfortunately, you haven’t earned the right to know my inner torture.”

  Smiling at her smile, Kyle’s mood lifted once again, her playful mood causing any dislike he’d felt at her hesitation to vanish. “And how can I earn that right, Ms. Pierce?” A part of him already knew the answer to that … he just wasn’t ready to say it, yet.

  Reanna quirked a brow at his question, then chuckled softly, looking down at her lap, then back up to him. “If you have to ask me that, Kyle, then you’re not ready to earn the right.”

  Whoa! Ouch. She was right, but still … Ouch.

  “Damn,” Kyle chuckled softly. He let out a long breath, giving her hand a squeeze then releasing it. “Leave it to you to always tell me like it is.” She and Carterina were the only two women he’d ever met that weren’t afraid to do it.

  She shrugged. “Isn’t that why you trust me?” she asked. “What makes,” she frowned a little before she continued, “what we have so … strong, is our ability to be honest with each other, am I right?”

  Kyle nodded. Reanna was the only human being on this planet that he wouldn’t hesitate sharing his deepest truths with. Hell, he would tell her before he told Nathan, and Nathan was his best friend, whom he loved dearly.

  “Well then,” she clapped her hands, “tell me what’s bothering you tonight.” She smiled again. “Unlike you, I have earned the right to know your inner torture …”

  It was absolute truth, and how the woman had done it, Kyle would never know.

  He’d never understand how she did this to him. Made him feel so … comfortable, light, so calm around her. Normally, he couldn’t stand it when someone looked him in the eyes such as she was now, but with her, it was so much different. The connection he felt with her was beyond his comprehension. Never had any human being on this earth made him feel the way she made him feel. Even at this moment, he wished he could pick her up, take her to bed with him, and just … hold her, uninterrupted, until they grew tired of being in each other’s arms. Unfortunately, something inside told him that for him, that time would most likely never come.

  After a moment longer of silence, Kyle felt her soft fingertips run across his cheeks. He quietly fought against his body’s reaction to the simple touch, in effort to keep his attention on her words.

  “Talk to me, Kyle,” she whispered, her smile still remaining. “There’s no reason to resist me when I’m here for you …”

  Again with words that carried so much meaning. Why was Kyle resisting her, when she was sitting right in front of him … when she was for him? His.

  If only he could, he would kiss her right now. He’d put the food aside, carry her to his bedroom, and make love to her far past the sunrise … but this he could never do. What he felt for Reanna Pierce went far past anything he’d ever felt for another woman, and this included Carterina, the woman he’d once sworn was the love of his life. His feelings for Reanna were … intense, complex, and too dangerous for exploration at this point in his life. Kyle couldn’t possibly be ready. He wouldn’t be able to give her what she needed, what she’d deserved.

  So, as he’d been
doing since the day he’d first met her, Kyle resisted revealing his true desire for her … but he did not, nor would he ever resist embracing her friendship, something he was pretty sure he couldn’t live without. He needed these moments with her, moments that he could show her with his actions, what he was unable to express to her with words at this time.

  I care about you more than you’ll ever know, Reanna Pierce. You’re the only person on this earth that I will ever bare my soul to.

  “I’m afraid that my past may be catching up with me,” he began. “I don’t quite understand why my mind is doing this to me now, but I think I may be remembering my past … remembering what my mother did to me.”

  “You saw what she did to you in your dream?”

  Kyle shook his head. “I think so, but I can’t be sure …” He released a long breath, feeling himself becoming uncomfortable. Talking about his—in her words— inner demons’ so freely with another, with a woman, was still new territory for Kyle. But it pleased Reanna when he was open with her, not only that, but he always felt … closer to her when he talked to her like this, and he needed that closeness. It meant more to him than it should. “In the dream, I’m watching my mother torture Sofia. Cutting her. She called it ‘punishment’, said that I must learn.”

  A sweet sadness immediately fell over Reanna’s face. “How long have you been having these dreams, Kyle … these memories?” she asked, reaching forward to take his hand.

  Kyle held on to her hand tightly, accepting her support as he gazed into her eyes, his thoughts momentarily wandering back to the dream he’d had. It still didn’t make much sense to him; the mystery of it all bothered him. He had the visions of what may have happened, but no answers to any of the questions he had.

  To answer her question, he’d started having the dream after Sofia’s fourth birthday. Before Sofia, Kyle had never dreamt about his mother. He barely possessed any memory of the woman. He remembered her face, but that was it. He remembered her smile, and maybe her laugh, but mostly just good things about her. Yet every morning he woke up he was faced with the scars covering his chest, and his back. Scars that were said to have been inflicted by the woman who birthed him. Kyle would give almost anything he had to know what happened to him in his childhood. To know what his mother had done to him, and why she had nearly murdered her own son. But he knew he probably would never know the truth.

  All of this and more, he shared with Reanna, who now had tears running down her face.

  Reaching up, Kyle wiped her tears. “Don’t cry for me, baby, please; there is no reason to. I’m fine now, I promise.” It was the truth. Now that he talked to her, he felt better. In fact, he even had a better understanding of his dream.

  She sniffled softly, shaking her head. “I can cry if I want to, Kyle. That was a sad story, I’d have to be a monster if I didn’t cry.”

  Kyle chuckled softly, as he pushed one of her wild curls back from her face. “And you are far from a monster, il mio dolce colomba …”

  The smile that appeared on her face made his heartbeat quicken. She was so beautiful.

  “What does that mean?” she whispered.

  Slowly, Kyle ran his thumb over her tear-stained face, outlining the gorgeous deep dimple on her left cheek. “You are my dove,” he whispered, then leaning forward, he kissed the dimple on her left cheek, then her right. “The dove symbolizes peace, purity.” Hope, devotion, grace, promise … love. Everything she was to him. His ‘sweet little dove’.

  “I love it,” she murmured, staring into his eyes when he pressed his forehead to hers, and cupped one side of her face.

  I love you.

  Stunned by the sudden thought in his head, Kyle’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly wiped the look from his face. What the fuck? No. Nope. I didn’t just think that. Move on, Kyle.

  “It’s sweet, Kyle,” she said, regaining his attention.

  Kyle smiled, a bit nervously, then quickly pulled himself together. “You’re sweet, Reanna,” he replied honestly, locking his eyes back to hers.

  Her eyes were telling him to kiss her, begging him to. Reanna was so much better than him. Every feeling, every emotion she had, she wore it boldly on her pretty face. Kyle, on the other hand, kept his hidden, not only for his benefit, but for hers, too.

  He resisted kissing her, and instead whispered, “Thank you,” then distanced himself from her just a bit, and he watched her eyes fall in disappointment—as they always did after they would share moments like these that went absolutely nowhere—and adjusted the plate in her lap.

  She never pushed him in situations like these, never commented, and Kyle always figured it was her way of not pushing him to explain his feelings before he was ready. He appreciated her for that.

  Picking up the plate on her lap, she sighed. “Well, you have definitely earned this plate of bliss, Kyle Valente.”

  Kyle chuckled. “A plate of bliss, is it?”

  She nodded, smiling brightly. “Mmmhmm. Yes, sir, it is.” She handed him the large plate. “Taste it, taste it!”

  He laughed, finding her excitement both adorable and amusing. “You’re cute.”

  She shrugged. “Although I much prefer irresistibly sexy thick, I’ll take cute since I’m looking a hot mess right now.”

  “Mmm,” Kyle moaned, teasingly reaching forward and giving her side a gentle pinch. “You are very, very sexy, Ms. Pierce.”

  Squealing, she smacked his hand away from her. “Uh, uh, Kyle,” she giggled. “Don’t flirt. You have a girlfriend, remember? Ahh!” she screamed through laughter when Kyle took the plate from her lap, and using his free arm, he pulled her over to the couch, tickling her sides.

  “Kyle, stop! We’re going to wake up Sofia!”

  Kyle had mercy on her, kissed her forehead, and pinned her closely to his side. He sat the large plate of food on his lap, looking down at it. “Well at least there’d be enough food here for her if she wakes up,” he chuckled, noting how big of a portion she’d saved him. “I don’t think I can eat all this alone, sweetheart.”

  Reanna snorted. “You won’t be, doofus.” With a sly smile, she leaned forward, grabbing another fork from the decorative tray. “I saved you that much ’cause you’re sharing with me, duh …” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, and she sunk her fork into the food on their plate.

  Kyle laughed, watching as she took the first bite and let out the sexiest moan.

  “Damn this is good,” she boasted. “So good. Eat it.”

  She then proceeded to feed him a bite after every bite she took. Kyle always wondered why she even bothered bringing him a fork. Every time they ate together, it always ended up like this anyway; with her saving enough food for the both of them, then feeding him, as she ate some herself, and discussed random subjects. They laughed, ate, and laughed some more until they finished, and fell asleep on the couch wrapped in each other’s arms.

  When the sunshine eventually woke him up, he spent what little time he’d had left with her, holding her, gazing at her as she slept.

  The feelings he had for her were getting stronger … the pull. He could feel them and he couldn’t control, nor stop them like he’d been hoping he could. Especially now, with her lying on his chest the way she was. The words he dared never say were right there, on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them to her. He wanted to more than ever, but he just … couldn’t. And he despised himself for it.

  He was going to lose her one day.

  She would move on. That was just a sad, but inevitable fact that Kyle had to admit to himself … And on that day, when she’d inevitably leave him and Sofia to start a life, a family, he’d be forced to ask himself the question he’d never wanted to ask …

  What the hell am I going to do without her?

  Chapter 4: Reanna Pierce

  “All right, everybody, let’s move!

  The array of crew members rushed to complete their tasks while Reanna stood, tapping her foot, impatiently waiting to begin th
e photo shoot. It had been hours, and they were now five minutes behind schedule. With thirty crew members on staff, one set, and only five models to get ready, Reanna was finding it difficult to excuse their tardiness today.

  “Hello!” she called to her crew. “I think you all have forgotten how busy my schedule is. This is not my only shoot.”

  “Ten more minutes in hair, Reanna. Come on, love, please …”

  Reanna whipped around, glaring at her hair stylist, and best friend in outrage. “Ten minutes!” she exclaimed. “Ronaldo, have you gone mad?”

  “No, sweetie, I haven’t.” He motioned toward the model’s hair. “I’ve been inspired, boo. Look at this hair.”

  Reluctantly, Reanna looked at the stylist’s creation. Dammit, she thought, stubbornly looking away, it is really good. She couldn’t deny how amazing the model would look in the pictures.

  Releasing a long, frustrated sigh, she gave her friend what he wanted. “Take your ten minutes.”

  “Thank you, love!”

  “Not so fast,” she cut off his joyous show of gratitude. “Not a minute over, Ronaldo, I mean it. I don’t want to be a diva or anything, but we have another shoot after this, so I need you all to work with me please.”

  “I got you, boo boo, no worries,” he assured. He gave her a wink and a dazzling smile. “You’re Reanna Pierce, baby. It don’t take that long for you to work your magic with that camera anyway. What do the rest of y’all think? Are we gonna get another cover today? Vogue baby!”

  The answer was a resounding ‘Yes’ from the rest of the crew as they all continued rushing around her, and Reanna had no choice but to smile. They were all so sweet to her, even when she was in a sour mood.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t love being here, this was her life, her love, her career. Being on the set of a photo-shoot, whether it be in an alley warehouse in New York or a sunny beach in the Caribbean, made her happy. Her sour mood hadn’t come from being here, it hadn’t even really come from the tardiness of hair and make-up.