Finding Wicked

by Kathryn L. James

  My experience certainly had been memorable.

  I’d been used.

  I’d fallen in love with the devil.

  I’d left my heart behind.

  Changing the channel, I finally stopped on a cooking show and tossed the remote on the coffee table.

  A light knock sounded on the door, and I stayed quiet. Let them knock. Let them wait. Let them leave. Not making a peep, I waited for the uninvited, unwanted guest to give up. Unfortunately, they were persistent, and the knock sounded again, this time louder.

  Go away!

  After a few minutes, the knocking ceased, and I let out a sigh of relief, turning my attention back to the woman making some sort of breakfast soufflé, a meal I didn’t give a shit about because I didn’t cook anything that wasn’t already in a box with printed directions.

  Transfixed by an episode full of ridiculousness, I pulled the covers high around my neck in contentment until a repetitive tinkling noise came from my window, like pebbles being thrown at the glass pane. I jumped and turned toward the closed blinds.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I mumbled, throwing the covers aside and letting out a groan.

  Cracking the blinds open enough to peek through, I saw Garrett staring straight into my eyes.

  Hell no. Oh helllll no.

  He wore a dark gray suit and filled it to perfection. He was clean-shaven, and his hair glistened, styled impeccably. He stood on a pile of red mulch between two shrubs and looked ridiculous and stalker-ish…but also sexy as hell.

  My traitorous hormones switched gears and a tingle ran down my spine. A wave of warmth coursed through my veins, zeroing in on the sweet spot between my legs.

  “Go away, Garrett,” I called through the window.

  “No. Open the door.”

  “Go to hell.” I stepped away and sat on the arm of the sofa before my shaky knees had a chance to give out on me. I couldn’t believe he stood just on the other side of the wall of my home. He was right there.

  My heart lurched into my throat when he pounded on the door, and I stared in disbelief as he pelted it harder.

  Hell to the no. He isn’t going to come here and fuck with me!

  I stormed to the door and threw it open.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t. You’re a smart man, so you should have figured that out when I didn’t answer or return any of your calls.”

  “I have things to say, and you’re going to listen, Brooke.”

  “How do I make myself clearer? You, your words—they mean nothing to me. Anything that happened between us is just a memory I want to forget. I’m asking you to leave, Garrett.”

  “But you can’t forget because we had fire between us. You felt it as much as I did, and you can’t turn it off like a faucet. It doesn’t work like that.”

  I shook my head, knowing I could deny it all I wanted, but he spoke true words.

  “You’re wrong. I can and did. Now go, before I call the police.”

  “Call the police? You think I wouldn’t go to jail if it gave me time to say the things I want to say to you?”

  “Suit yourself.” I attempted to slam the door in his face, but his strong hand held it open and he pushed past me, sauntering inside as if he didn’t give a fuck about anything other than what he wanted.

  “One way or another, you’re going to hear what I have to say,” he insisted.

  I rolled my eyes. “Then hurry the fuck up so you can get out, Mitchell!”

  “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Brooke. I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. I see it in your eyes, and it kills me. It kills me to see it there at all, but it slaughters me to know I’m the one who caused it.”

  He took a step toward me and I held up my hands, flashing a determined look. It must have told him I was serious, because he stopped.

  “I’m okay…or I will be. I’m dealing with a lot, and some things I’m just not ready to deal with—”

  His eyes traveled over my tired face. “You look exhausted.”

  “I am exhausted.”

  “Is it because you can’t stop thinking about us? Because you’re all I think about, from the time I wake up until I lie in bed and stay up half the night because I can’t get you out of my mind. Then you follow me into my dreams, and I wake up in cold sweats because the fucking dreams are so real, like you’re really there beside me.”

  I leaned against the closed door, crossed my arms over my chest, and lied through my teeth. “I don’t think about you at all, unless you count how much I regret being with you. I’m tired because I’ve been at the hospital. I’m tired because I’m dealing with the twisted emotions of finding out I have a father after all these years. My exhaustion has nothing to do with you.”

  Stay strong a few more minutes. He’ll leave and never come back by the time you’re through.

  In a flash, he strode over to me and placed the palms of his hands on either side of me, caging me in while wearing a wicked grin.

  “You can believe your lies all you want, but I know the truth. I see it in your eyes. You remember how it felt between us. You can’t stop thinking about us together, how good it was, and I know you remember how hard I made you come. We are something you won’t ever be able to forget.”

  I let out a fake laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mitchell. The fucking wasn’t even that great.”

  “Liar.” He leaned in closer, and his intoxicating scent wafted into every cell in my body.

  “I’ve had better with my battery-operated boyfriend,” I whispered.

  He didn’t give me a chance to escape before his lips crashed down on mine in a searing, fierce kiss. Pressing his hardness against me, he bit down on my bottom lip and pushed his tongue inside my unresisting mouth.

  One touch set me on fire. One gaze burned through me. One kiss and I forgot the unforgivable reasons I could never be with him.

  My body lusted for his.

  Craved his touch.

  Throbbed in need for him to fill me.

  It always would.

  My heart missed him more than ever.

  I clutched at the back of his head, so afraid of the kiss ending as our tongues danced with one another, full of anguish. I pulled against his back and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight against him, kissing me deeply…insanely deeply.

  When he pulled back, his eyes on mine, a glimmer of lust-filled satisfaction stared back. His lips curled into a wickedly intense grin. “There’s no way in hell your body writhes for a toy stashed in your drawer. You can’t claw its back or wrap those creamy thighs around its hips. Right now, you’re wet for me, and as sure as I’m standing here breathing, if I were to touch you, you would come apart on my fingers with one sweep. So, don’t challenge me, Brooke, because I know how much you love what I can do to your body.”

  I swallowed hard as reality slapped me across the face. Pent-up fury boiled in my stomach and a fresh anger brewed; I was so frustrated at myself for letting this get out of hand.

  It had to stop.

  I had to be strong and end it immediately.

  “Okay, the sex was hot. Happy? I admitted it.” Walking to the door, I threw it open and tipped my head to the outside. “But that’s all it was. Now get out, your time is up.”

  “Give us another chance. Give me the chance I don’t deserve.” His tone was unfamiliar, almost broken.

  I turned my gaze to the afternoon sky, too afraid I’d crumble if I looked at him. Letting out a fake I-don’t-give-a-shit chuckle, I said, “The lies, the deception—all of what you did makes it easy to say no. Please don’t come back, Garrett. I won’t answer the door next time.”

  “The deed to the land has been reversed. I signed it back over to your mother, and it’s been filed at the county clerk’s office in the courthouse. Rachel should receive the original in the mail in a few days.”

  “That’s between you and her. I don’t even know if she sti
ll has the money.”

  “Fuck the money. I don’t care about any of it. That wasn’t a deciding factor in deeding it back to her. It was supposed to be a good business deal, but instead it was the worst decision I’ve ever made, costing me more than anything money could buy—costing me you. I can’t go back in time, can’t change what I did, and I’ll regret it every day of my life. Saying I’m sorry is trite, but I’d say it a thousand times if it would make a difference.”

  Oh God. My heart broke in half as he spoke.

  I wanted to believe there was good in him, wanted to think I hadn’t been blinded by his charm. I wanted to believe I’d seen the true Garrett Mitchell, had fallen in love with a man who didn’t have it in him to use another person in the interest of business, but the truth was, he had.

  He’d made a deal with my own mother.

  He’d used me.

  “Please don’t expect me to say I forgive you for any of this. I can’t right now, and I don’t know if I ever will. Now that you’ve said your peace, I need you to leave because you’re right—your decision did cost you. You lost me, and I don’t want anything to do with you, Garrett.”

  “Brooke—”

  I threw my hands in the air. “No! No more! I can’t do this. Get out!”

  He stared longer than I wanted him to, and I held my eyes on his, trying to stand up to him…trying to stand strong and hide the quaking mess inside me.

  “Be at the office at seven AM. We have one last teleconference with Salvatore before La Amory closes. Don’t even think about not showing up.”

  He stepped through the door and left me gaping in total shock at his audacity.

  Chapter 28

  The next morning at six thirty-six, I sat at my dining room table dressed in yoga pants, a tank top, and a pair of sneakers. The night before, I’d had a revelation after emptying a wine bottle without a glass and drowning in my own hot mess tub of sorrow. I’d cried so hard, and somewhere in the midst of it, I’d had a reckoning with myself.

  The morning would bring a new day.

  A new beginning.

  A few blocks from the rehabilitation hospital, I’d noticed a gym.

  “It begins with you Brooke,” I told myself emphatically. I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, wireless ear-buds, and a cute pink bag containing a change of clothes.

  No more coming home and sulking my life away on the couch, eating bags of chips and living like a pig. I tossed the empty sparkling white wine bottle in the trash, along with empty snack packages.

  “Be at the office at seven AM—my ass. I no longer work for you, asshole.” I let out a strangled laugh at the ridiculousness of his demand.

  I was going to get my life back in order, and that included searching for a job. I didn’t need Mitchell Enterprises, and I sure as shit didn’t need Garrett Mitchell. I may have still wanted what would never be, but I didn’t need him.

  Inside the gym, I looked around the cardio section, taking in the intimidating machines. People glistened at all different stages of workout regimens as I surveyed the space.

  “Finding everything all right?” A young guy with dimples and solid muscles walked toward me.

  “I don’t know yet, maybe ask me tomorrow—I only joined this morning,” I said, rethinking my game plan. Maybe I should have gone to the park and jogged the trails.

  He let out a chuckle. “I’m Paul. My wife, Vanessa, and I are the trainers for this facility. If you need any services, you’ll find our brochure over there, and of course, if you have any questions, we’ll be glad to help.”

  “Thanks.”

  I found the lockers, secured my things, and ventured over to the treadmills, a safe first-day adventure. After reading a few directions, I popped in my ear-buds, found the right music for motivation, and set the machine to start with a warm-up before graduating to a slow jog.

  Watching some people using weights of various sizes and others doing pull-ups, leg presses, and stretches, I wanted to release endorphins like all the magazine articles I’d read talked about. I was intrigued when Paul escorted a lady about the same age as Garrett’s Gammy to a machine. As he stood facing her, she pressed weights toward the floor, working her triceps, and I grinned.

  Twenty minutes later, I did a cool-down until the programmed machine stopped. My skin glistened, and I understood why all the literature advised to start small.

  I approached Paul. “Do you or Vanessa have any openings tomorrow?”

  He pulled a tablet from behind the counter and scrolled on the screen.

  “Van has a cancellation at ten in the morning.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  When I left, freshly showered, I had an extra skip in my step, and it felt good. Walking the rest of the way to the hospital, I pulled out my cell before entering.

  A notification indicating a message from Garrett lit up my screen, and I rolled my eyes. Figures.

  Garrett: I’ve given you more time off for personal reasons than policy allows. If you need additional time, you’ll need to file leave of absence paperwork with HR. It is imperative you show up for work tomorrow or I won’t be as understanding.

  Me: Are you crazy?

  Garrett: Some say I am.

  Me: I no longer work for you. Please remove my number from your phone so I don’t have to block yours.

  Garrett: I miss you.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh and whispered, “I miss you too.”

  Switching gears, I scrolled down my contact list until I found Jennings.

  Me: Whenever you have free time, I’d love to have lunch or dinner with you.

  Jennings: This afternoon? Or tomorrow around six?

  Me: Tomorrow is best. Where?

  Jennings: I’ll let you know.

  I answered with a simple thumbs-up then jogged up the red brick steps, entering the facility. My gait was confident, but my insides were still filled with sadness. I wondered if I’d ever really get over Garrett.

  Mom sat on the side of her bed as one of the physical therapists worked with her. She drew her knees together, squeezing a spring-like device, then slowly released it.

  “Looking good, Mom.” I smiled.

  “It’s harder than it looks.”

  “Tell me about it—I just left the gym.”

  “One more, Ms. Sheridan.” The merry voice cheered her on as Mom squeezed her knees one last time.

  “Whew, that was something.”

  “You did well. I’ll see you same time tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  When she left, I plopped down in the rocker and pulled out a bag of jelly beans. “I smuggled in your favorite.”

  “Gym, huh? I’ve never known you to work out.”

  “I need a new me.”

  “You’re skinny as a rail.”

  “It’s not about being thin. It’s about toning, getting fit, and—excuse the language—being badass. Tomorrow I have an appointment with a trainer at ten. Do you want me to bring you lunch after? Maybe a nice salad loaded with apples and cranberries? That should be pretty heart healthy.”

  Mom cracked a smile, and I was glad. Things had been tense, and I expected things would get even more awkward between us. “Would love a nice steak, seared with a medium rare center.”

  “Rules, Mom. We have to stick to a low-salt, low-fat diet.”

  She snickered. “Salad it is then, but I want ranch dressing, even if it is fat-free.”

  “I’ll be here around noon—that okay?”

  She nodded. “How are you, Brookie?”

  I stared long and hard, calculating my response before giving her the best answer I could. “I’m having dinner with Jennings tonight.”

  I watched her throat move with her hard swallow. “Good. Spend as much time as you can with him, Brooke. Get to know your father, and try to gain as much as you lost.”

  A tear slipped from her lashes and she quickly grabbed a tissue from the bedside table to wipe it away.

  “I’ll
never understand why you did what you did, but I don’t hate you, Mom. I’m mad and hurt, but I will never hate you.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Jennings, Garrett, sending you off to St. Thomas so you wouldn’t be here for my surgery…I didn’t even tell your Aunt Jilly what I did because I was too ashamed.”

  “Of which part? Hiding my father, letting me believe he was dead, or selling me to the highest bidder?”

  She turned her gaze toward the window and shook her head. “All of it. She never knew your dad was the drummer in Indigo Whiskey. She always thought it was the star quarterback on the college football team. Jennings had the prettiest blue eyes, coal black hair, and tan skin. He often had a cigarette hanging from his lips, taking sips from a beer between keeping tempo as he beat the hell out of those drums. He was unlike any boy my mother had pushed down my throat at the country club. I did what I did to spite her, though ironically she never knew because I didn’t tell her. It’s hard to produce a father when you tell your mother you slept around under the influence and couldn’t remember.”

  “Did you ever stop to think about what you were doing to me?”

  “All the time. We didn’t have social media like now. I looked him up a few times, and the last I knew he was in Nashville. I didn’t know the band fell apart, and I swear I didn’t know he was in Dallas.”

  “We should wait to talk about this.”

  “No. I’m going to go bat-shit crazy if you don’t talk to me.”

  “After the Jason ordeal, I had never felt prouder of the mother I’d been blessed with. It was then I realized how strong you were, filling the role of mother and father. I want to feel grateful, but I don’t. I feel like you stole a part of my life, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to get over it. Then there’s the issue of selling the land—land I didn’t even know you owned—to Garrett because you were making shitty decisions for me again.”

  She nodded. “I always had your best interest at heart. Jennings would have been gone more than he was home. I didn’t want you to have an on-again, off-again father, one you might not even remember with the long months of him being away. It wasn’t the life I wanted for you. As far as you not being here when I had the surgery, I’m not really sorry about that, but looking back, I should have talked to you about it instead of manipulating the situation.”