Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken

by Michelle Hardin

  It was that connection; the one that enabled her to feel the pain that he ran from, to cry the tears that he refused to cry, to suffer the emotion that he always buried, to fear what he didn’t want to fear. Something was beating at her heart, urging her to reach out to him so that he could pour out his soul to her. But that was a task easier said than done …

  They’d slipped out of Sofia’s room about ten minutes ago, and had been headed to their own room when Kyle’s cell had begun to buzz in his pocket again. He’d been upset, of course, as had Reanna, but he’d still taken the call, leaving Reanna to go to their bedroom alone, while he went to his office. While he was gone, Reanna had taken some time to think. About everything really, not just about what was going on with Kyle.

  She’d taken advantage of the silence, and let her mind relax for a moment. Let herself have a bit of mental down time, as she took in her new surroundings, and explored her new bedroom.

  It wasn’t as if she had never stepped into Kyle’s room before. She had. But never for longer than a moment. After all, a moment had been all she’d needed to steal one of his t-shirts, or a pair of his sweat pants from his drawers. But she’d never really looked around. She’d always been too … shy to explore his bedroom the way she’d always wanted to. But now, that it was hers too, she decided it was time that she look around, see how much she was going to change in this new bedroom of hers.

  Looking at the bed, Reanna shook her head.

  While it was lovely, and she appreciated that the bed was king sized, her fiancé’s obsession with black comforters was becoming a cause for worry with her. And for Christ’s sake, did the man not know of any other color than blue? Black comforter, dark blue pillow casing, and throw pillows. Dark blue, black out curtains covering the massive window—that Reanna freaking loved by the way— on the far side of the bedroom. Black dressers, black bed side tables, black digital clock with dark blue numbers displayed on the screen.

  It was too much!

  Reanna’s only saving grace had been the massive, walk-in closet. Stunning cherry wood everywhere. The linings of the nooks where clothes were hung, the drawers scaling across the walls, and this gorgeous, huge, circular, island dresser in the middle of the room. It was incredible. Reanna had never seen anything like it. She’d had to get her phone out to take pictures, knowing immediately that this was the closet that she’d wanted in the new house that Kyle would be designing for them after the wedding. And she’d thought that that was it; that that closet had been the only room in her new bedroom that would take her breath away.

  That was until she walked into the white marble bathroom.

  Holy shit!

  Was all she’d remembered thinking before she’d blacked out, then came to, as she was stepping out of a hot, jasmine filled, bubble bath thirty-five minutes later, feeling so freaking amazing that she’d almost cried.

  Dear lord, that had been an experience. The tub had been so gloriously beautiful, and the room … it was what Reanna imagined the bathrooms in heaven would look like. She didn’t think she’d have such an experience until Jesus came back, but here. Here she was, walking around her dream bathroom naked, searching for a towel to dry her freshly cleaned body.

  Once she found one, she dried herself off, wrapped the plush towel around her body, then went to the huge mirror and gazed at herself. Smiling, she released the clip that held up her hair, gently shaking it loose as it fell to her shoulders. She still felt so different, just as she had back at the cabin. Maybe it was because of her new surroundings, or maybe it was just because she’d finally felt like she … discovered herself. Reanna didn’t know, but she loved it.

  The sound of the bedroom door opening then closing made her heart jump, her eyes brightening at the knowledge that Kyle had finally finished up his long call.

  Just in time.

  Tightening the towel around herself, she ran her fingers through her hair, making sure she looked ‘fresh out of the bath’ sexy, then she quickly exited the bathroom. When she opened the door, Kyle was nowhere in sight, but she’d heard him rustling around in the closet.

  Quickly, she headed over to his dresser and took out one of his t-shirts. After putting it on, she made her way to her suitcase, taking out her favorite lotion, then swiftly, and pretty sloppily, rubbed it over her body. She really couldn’t wait to get moved in. Get all of her clothes to the apartment, her vanity, her colorful décor that would bring color and life to this bedroom. Maybe she’d redecorate the living room too, and the kitchen …

  Screw it, she’d just redecorate the entire apartment.

  That seemed like the best idea, seeing as they’d be living here until their next house was built, and there was no way in hell that Reanna was living in a colorless bachelor pad until then. Seriously, the only room in this apartment that had any splash of life was Sofia’s beautiful bedroom. Reanna had to save this place. It was her job, as a new wife and mother, and she took it seriously.

  Smiling, at how well she was already doing in her new life, Reanna stood to her feet as she finished rubbing the remainder of the lotion on her hands, then she made her way to the closet, where Kyle was undressing for bed.

  Perhaps a little light teasing, before some wild, passionate love making would improve that somber mood she knew her love was in.

  Then after that, she’d make him talk to her. Tell her what was troubling that brilliant mind of his.

  ~*~

  Calm yourself Kyle … You can get through one night at the least, right?

  Shaking his head at himself, Kyle finished unbuttoning his shirt. He was being absolutely ridiculous, pathetic even. His head was everywhere, and his stomach was all twisted in knots, and he had no fucking idea why.

  Abrielle.

  His conscience whispered, making Kyle want to ram his fist through the nearest wall. Why did her name keep popping in his head? And why did it hurt so damn much every time it did?

  It made no sense.

  He was home now. The peace deal was done, and Reanna and Sofia were both safe, happy; so what the hell was wrong with him? Was he seriously having this much trouble keeping his shit together because that fucking bitch was in New York City?

  Fuck!

  He needed to stop. He needed to calm himself; he was flipping his shit for no fucking reason. Abrielle wasn’t the only damn problem he had to deal with tonight. There was other shit. Shit like, how the fuck was he going to tell Reanna about the ‘oopsy’ killing of her ex doctor boyfriend today at work. Or was he going to tell her at all?

  He could lie. Pretend it didn’t happen. Or perhaps get married sooner, let a few weeks pass by, then have Reanna receive a call that the dear old doc had unfortunately been the victim of a freak accident, or a car accident, or something of the sort. Kyle had options here.

  Lying wasn’t that bad, when it was for the purposes of protecting her feelings right? She’d appreciate it if she knew … Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d … hate him for lying to her, almost as much, or maybe even more than she’d hate him for letting the doc die. She’d probably leave him, never speak to him again, accuse him of bamboozling her into marrying him; then annul the marriage, disappear forever, and leave him a broken, pathetic shell of a man …

  Kyle's brows furrowed at the thought of the many possible outcomes.

  Okay … it was becoming quite clear to him that either way he played this he was fucked.

  “Hey there, sexy …”

  Reanna’s sudden appearance at the door of the closet, unfortunately, startled the fuck out of Kyle, and it was impossible to hide.

  He turned and faced her too fucking quickly, with a look on his face that was too fucking guilty, and he knew for a fact that she noticed the behavior immediately.

  “Baby!” he greeted way to loudly in a rush of breath.

  Fuck!

  “Oh my God,” she laughed softly, her eyes widening as she raised a calming hand in his direction. “It’s just me, honey, calm down. You expecting so
meone else—”

  “Braden’s dead …”

  The two words came out of his mouth like fucking vomit surprising the shit out of Kyle. Why the fuck did he do that?! What was wrong with him? Why was he fucking afraid? He was Kyle Valente for Christ sake; he couldn’t believe he’d just fucking blurted that shit out!

  Reanna’s eyes were empty, her face stunned and completely just … fucking drained. Kyle felt like the lowest piece of shit.

  “Baby … are you going to say something?” Kyle asked, giving her a cautious smile. Perhaps if he made light of the situation, she wouldn’t freak out on him. So with a light shrug of his shoulder, gave her his best sheepish grin. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes widened. “Sorry?”

  Okay … now Kyle was beginning to think the ‘make light of the situation’ idea was not as smart as he’d thought it was.

  “You’re sorry!”

  Kyle took a step back, lifting his hand when she’s screamed the words. “How about … I’m sorry for being sorry …”

  Shit.

  Never had he’d seen so much fury fall over a face so beautiful.

  There had only been a two second window for Kyle to get to safety before the first of many of his size thirteen, Italian leather shoes was barreling straight toward his head.

  He only dodged it by the grace of God.

  “Reanna!” he shouted, shocked by the violence of it all, but he only had a second to react before another shoe was coming at him. “Ah!!”

  “You son of a bitch!” she screamed. “You lied to me!”

  Another shoe. Then another, and another after that. Kyle was ducking his own damn shoes left and right, front and back, side to fucking side.

  “Reanna stop! It wasn’t me.” One caught him in his side. “Shit! Ahh, baby!” He whipped around to face her, shooting her a striking ‘what the fuck’ glare. “Reanna!”

  “I can’t believe you!” she cried, tears pouring down her face. “How could you!”

  Kyle felt bad. He felt horrible as shit. Not because the fucker was dead—he probably would have accidentally killed him himself anyway— but because Reanna was so obviously hurt. He fucking made her cry. He’d told himself that he would never do that.

  Kyle reached out to her, his eyes genuinely pleading for her forgiveness. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

  She stomped her foot. “Stop saying you’re sorry,” she screamed.

  But why would he stop when he actually meant it.

  “But, I didn’t mean for it to happen, Reanna.”

  “Bullshit!” she argued. “You wanted him dead, admit it!”

  Eyes widening, Kyle’s mouth twitched as he gave a light shrug of his shoulder. “Well … yeah,” he said honestly. “But you already knew that—”

  She screamed, hurling two shoes at him back to back.

  Kyle dropped to the floor, ducking for cover behind the opposite side of the island.

  What the fuck?

  Seriously! How many fucking shoes did he have?

  “Reanna,” he roared. “Would you stop it with the fucking shoes!”

  “You’re an asshole, Kyle!”

  Yes, that was true. But he already knew that. So did she.

  “I told you not to kill him. Begged you not to! But you did it anyway because you’re an asshole!”

  She threw another that bounced off the wall, then shot back in his direction. Kyle shot out of its path. Damn!

  “You don’t give a shit about me!”

  “Hey!” Kyle quickly stood up, holding up his hands in surrender. “Hey, hey, you know that isn’t true, Reanna,” he reasoned with her. “I fucking love you. You know that.”

  “You love me, but you don’t respect me!”

  Another shoe, then another.

  Kyle fell to the floor again, ducking for safety.

  Seriously, what the fuck was happening to him right now. His damn bedroom was a war zone! And it was definitely worth noting that, for a little woman, his beautiful colomba had one hell of a right arm.

  Kyle was impressed.

  “You knew how much it meant to me that you show him mercy. I opened up to you! I was honest with you! And you betrayed my trust without even thinking of how much it’d hurt me!”

  “But, baby, that’s not true.” Kyle moved to his knees and peaked his head over the island so that she could see the truth in his eyes. “I would never want to hurt you. I love you too much.”

  She stomped her foot again, this time weeping as she did. “Stop saying you love me. You betrayed my trust, and told me you accepted me, but you lied.” Her weeping intensified as she brought her hands up to cover her face, and ran out of the closet.

  Kyle jumped up from the floor, running after her. “Reanna!”

  Shit!

  He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up big fucking time, just like he knew he would.

  When he ran out of the closet he immediately looked toward the bedroom door, ready to run out after her if she was attempting to leave him, but to his surprise … the door was still closed.

  He frowned, looking around the bedroom. “Colomba?”

  Her soft sniffling then hit his ears dragging his gaze to where she was, on bended knee, in front of the large window, with her hands pressed together in front of her.

  Kyle immediately went to her, falling to his knees next to her.

  “Baby,” he placed a hand to her shoulder, only to have her jerk her shoulder away from him.

  “I’m praying,” she whispered, lifting her teary eyes to the New York City sky. “I’m praying that God have mercy on our souls, and not send us straight to hell.”

  Did Kyle want to smile at how cute she was, absolutely, but did he … Fuck no. He wasn’t about to get himself into a deeper shit pile then he was already in.

  “Join me.”

  He looked up at the sound of her soft voice.

  “I said join me, Kyle,” she whispered, then she shot him a glare. “Now.”

  Swallowing, Kyle nodded his head, turning to face forward as he made the sign of a cross, then clasped his hands.

  “Lord,” she began. “We come to you … a Baptist and a Catholic …”

  Kyle frowned, peaking over at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “…to ask you to forgive us because we killed a man.”

  When Kyle opened his mouth to correct her she shot him a look that made him bite his tongue.

  That was fine. He’d just let her pray. If this would help move on from this, then he’d pray with her all night … though in all honesty, he’d rather be fucking her right now. She probably didn’t have on any panties under that t-shirt she was wearing.

  Right as the thought crossed his mind a piercingly loud crack of thunder shook the sky.

  Kyle flinched, his eyes immediately shooting to the heavens.

  Alright, alright, he thought, refocusing his attention on the prayer.

  He’d fuck his fiancé after the prayer.

  “… Braden was an asshole, yes. And I said a lot of mean things about him secretly in my head today. But you have to understand me, Lord. He hit me, scared me, gave me bruises, made me cry, and I wanted him to burn in hell for it, of course … But I just wish he would have died of natural causes, and not by the hands of the man that is to be my husband.”

  Kyle rolled his eyes. The woman was crazy, in denial all the damn time. She wanted the fucker dead to and she knew it.

  But on a side note, this praying that they were doing together was kind of turning him on … Actually the whole damn fight with her tonight was turning him on.

  Was he fucked up for that?

  “… And in closing, Lord, yes; Kyle is a killer …”

  Kyle’s brows rose.

  “… but he’s also a good man, with a heart kinder than he’s willing to show people. He’s a good brother, a great son, an amazing father, and my lover and best friend, even though, a lot of the time he doesn’t appreciate me …”

  Lies. He did appreciate her.


  “… have mercy on his soul, dear Jesus …”

  Aww. She was praying for his soul … She was so fucking sexy.

  “… But if he ever,” she sighed, shaking her head. “And I mean ever, hurts my feelings the way he has tonight, Lord. I ask that you please, gather your strongest lightning bolts … and strike him down.”

  Turning his head, Kyle looked at her, blinking. She’d said it so sweetly, too. Like she hadn’t just asked God to strike him with lightening while a storm was brewing outside.

  “Amen,” she smiled.

  “Really, Reanna?” he asked, shocked, and a bit charmed, by the unexpected turn of her prayer.

  She looked back at him, her eyes squinting in a scowl before she stood up, and stormed away from him without a word.

  Kyle sighed, dropping his hand to his side in exhaustion. “Come on, colomba.” When would this madness end!

  The fucker was an asshole for Christ sakes! Was it really that fucking devastating that he was dead?

  Kyle stood up from the floor. “Colomba,” he called to her.

  But she said nothing.

  She threw the comforter back on the bed, climbed onto her side, and laid down, her back facing his side of the bed.

  This was what women did, right? When they were angry? They killed men with fucking silence!

  “Reanna,” he called her again, his jaw tightening with annoyance.

  And again, she said nothing.

  “Really!” he snapped. “Over this fucking guy, Reanna?”

  Silence.

  “Fine!” Kyle stormed for the bedroom door. “Fuck this.”

  Opening the door, Kyle walked out and slammed it behind him, then made his way down the hallway, to the kitchen.

  This was fucking bullshit! Kyle thought as he yanked open his liquor cabinet, and pulled out an open bottle of whisky and a glass.

  He poured himself a glass. Then another. Then one last glass for good measure, downing the shot in a matter of seconds.

  Swallowing the burning liquor, Kyle sighed, placing his hands flat on the counter as he hung his head forward in frustration.

  Was this it?

  Was this what marriage would be like for him? Fucking … arguments, and dodging shoes, and feeling sorry for shit he wouldn’t normally feel fucking sorry for?