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Life Before Damaged, Volume 7

Page 7

by H. M. Ward


  Pete laughs louder, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close to him. I swat at him and try to pull out of his embrace.

  “No! You can’t have me and have her too. You can’t touch me like you care, and then do shit like this!”

  “Gina, what do you expect me to do?” His tone is clipped and those blue eyes are wild.

  “Anyone and everyone, just not in front of me! I don’t want to see you pleasuring other women. I don’t want to see you crawl between some chicks legs!”

  “Why? Who cares?”

  I shove him again, and he takes a pity step back. “I care! Me! I do!”

  He takes my shoulders and looks down into my face. “Why?”

  “I don’t know! I just do. Let go of me.” I try to shake out of his grip, but he only holds me tighter. I stiffen against his chest. “You can’t do crap like this. I can’t take it. I can’t.”

  “Okay, okay. Calm down. It was just a joke.” His words sound sincere, but I can’t see his face.

  I suck in air and keep struggling, trying to pull away, but Pete puts a hand on the back of my head.

  “I can’t live like this, Peter. I have a heart, and I can’t hide it. Even if we aren’t together, I don’t want to see you having sex with someone else.”

  His voice is a whisper. “Tell me why, Gina, please.”

  My stomach flips at the gentle way he says my name. I scold myself for feeling so attached to him and make something up. I know why, but there’s no way in hell I’m telling him. He’ll rip my heart out of my chest if he knows.

  “Because I don’t want to see my friends having sex. Ever.”

  “So, that’s a hard, fast rule?”

  I nod, and he holds me firmly. I start to relax in his embrace. A smile plays at the edges of my mouth.

  Pete rests his head on top of mine and takes a deep breath.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

  “Well, according to page three, paragraph two, article five of your mother’s contract, I believe you’re supposed to marry me.” It was meant as a joke, but it comes out sounding like something more profound, deeper, like a proposal.

  I look up and it’s a huge mistake. His face is so close to mine now. His smile is gone, and his eyes fill with sorrow. There is so much depth and emotion locked up behind those eyes and I want to help him unleash it. That irrational sliver of hope keeps poking through, making me think that maybe, with time, he’ll come around and let himself feel something other than rage and lust.

  I can see it. It’s right there below the surface.

  He looks like he’s debating if he should kiss me or not, looking down at my lips and then into my eyes. I’m starting to know that look all too well and, as tempting as it may be, it's my signal to push away.

  My phone vibrates, shattering the moment like a mirror smashing to the ground. Pete and I let go of each other and I take a step back. The phone vibrates again and I take it out of my pocket to see who it is. The name Phillip Gambino flashes across the screen. I look up toward Pete, who’s now staring at the phone.

  “Aren’t you going to answer?” he asks softly.

  I shake my head, unsure of what I want to do. The phone vibrates a third time. One more and it will go to voicemail.

  Pete makes the decision for me when he swipes the screen with his finger, answering the call for me and backing away. I hear Phillip’s voice on the other end of the line calling my name, and I put the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, Phillip. Yeah, I’m here... No, this isn’t a bad time.” I look at Pete, wishing he hadn’t answered. There’s more to say, but it’s clear it won’t be said now. I clear my throat and take a step away from Pete.

  “I was about to call it a night. There’s only so much studying I can do... A drink?” My attention is half on the conversation, half on Pete. He’s crouched in front of his bike, his boots crunching the plastic shards on the ground. He’s assessing the damage, shaking his head.

  When I mention going to have a drink, he looks up at me with a sad smile and nods. He mouths, ‘Go.’

  I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and look away from him. I'm not being chaperoned by the Ferro chauffeur tonight. I'm actually free to spend an evening with Philip without any repercussions. We could stay together all night. I could take out every painful moment of the day on Philip's beautiful body, but…

  I glance at Pete and know I want something I can’t have. He won’t change. Not for me, not for anyone. I plaster a fake smile on my face.

  “Sure. That sounds great. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there. See you soon.” I tuck my phone back in my pocket.

  Pete stands up and walks toward me. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder, toward his bike.

  “I’d offer you a ride but you see, something happened to my lights. They don’t seem to be working for some reason. It might be dangerous.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks down at the ground.

  "I'm really sorry. I’ve never done something like that before." I grimace.

  His eyes lift slightly, meeting my gaze with mischief.

  "I figured as much, but there’s no need to lie to me.”

  My heart races as he steps closer to me. He tips his head to the side and offers an equally crooked grin.

  “You enjoyed bashing my bike, and it’s okay—I deserved it. I'll just throw this one out and go buy a new one tomorrow."

  My face scrunches up. "A new bike? You’re just going to leave it in the trash for the garbage guys? What the hell, Ferro?" I’m about to go off on him for being a spoiled brat, but he starts laughing.

  "No, a new light. What the hell is wrong with you? Do you get a new car every time you get a ding?" He’s smiling so hard that I can see a dimple on his cheek.

  I smile coyly and look at my shoe.

  "You think I’m soft, don’t you?"

  His smile widens. I expect him to tease me, to say something that makes me laugh. He looks at my hair and lifts the lock that keeps falling in my eyes.

  Pushing it back, he says, “Not at all. Not even a little. I think you’re stronger and more alive than anyone I’ve ever met—you just don’t know it yet.” His azure gaze locks with mine, searching for something I’m sure is absent.

  I smile. “That’s a nice thought, but it belongs on a greeting card.”

  He shakes his head and looks down at his helmet. His voice deepens. “You’re finding yourself, and that’s fine. You’re figuring out what your limits are and how far you’re willing to go to get what you want.”

  “So are you.” Pete laughs like it’s not true. “You don’t see it either, but you will.”

  He smirks and touches my arms lightly. “If the moment passes me by, be sure to take a picture. I have a really good relationship with a lot of city photographers.”

  I look at his hand on my arm and then back up into his face. He lets his fingers slip away. I pretend it did nothing. This is going to be my life—a series of lies and smiles—until I’m utterly devoid of any feeling whatsoever.

  “I better get going.” Pete nods. I hold up my phone. “I’m going to call a cab. You want me to get one for you too?”

  “What do you mean?" He looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “I’m going back home on this baby.”

  Of course, he is. I give Pete a bit of a concerned scowl, but he turns his back to me and walks toward his bike. There’s no use in trying to convince him otherwise. He’s reckless and couldn’t care less what happens to him. Maybe that’s why he fights so much.

  He swings his leg over, straddles the bike and makes the engine roar to life. I never used to like motorcycles. They represent hoodlums and delinquency. Now, the sound reminds me of Pete. A hoodlum and delinquent, but a friend who somehow needs me.

  “Pete!” I call out to him before he puts his helmet back on. He turns around and looks at me, his blue eyes look tired instead of alive and full of life.

  “You’re not your father, you know. You�
�re you. You don’t have to try so hard to be like him if you don’t want to.”

  Pete looks at the cloudless sky. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he looks back down at me, his gaze cuts through me like a carving knife. It’s the cocky, arrogant, Pete-the-player look. The hunter, hungry for his next prey. The man who sat in the stripper's chair, waiting to be devoured.

  “Yes, I do.”

  COMING SOON

  LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED, VOL. 8

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  MORE FERRO FAMILY BOOKS

  Nick Ferro

  ~THE WEDDING CONTRACT~

  Bryan Ferro

  ~THE PROPOSITION~

  Sean Ferro

  ~THE ARRANGEMENT~

  Peter Ferro

  ~DAMAGED ~

  Jonathan Ferro

  ~STRIPPED~

  MORE ROMANCE BY H.M. WARD

  SCANDALOUS

  SECRETS

  THE SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT

  DEMON KISSED

  CHRISTMAS KISSES

  SECOND CHANCES

  SHADOWS OF THE PAST

  And more.

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  COVER REVEAL:

  BROKEN PROMISES: A TRYSTAN SCOTT NOVEL, by H.M. Ward

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author HM Ward continues to reign as the queen of independent publishing. She’s sold over 10 MILLION copies, placing her among the literary titans. Articles pertaining to Ward's success have appeared in The New York Times, USA Today, and Forbes to name a few. This native New Yorker resides in Texas with her family, where she enjoys working on her next book.

  You can interact with this bestselling author at:

  @HMWard

  AuthorHMWard

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