The Complete If I Break Series

by Portia Moore

“I don’t know if she’s different.”

  “Well there is something about her that is causing you to respond to her differently than you have the others.”

  “I was just trying to make something right that I messed up for her,” I say honestly. She looks at me quizzically. I sit up and explain how everything happened the night I first saw Lauren and how I basically blew up her life as she knew it and only wanted to attempt to repay her for it. After I’m done, she folds her hands on her desk.

  “Maybe she reminds you of another part of yourself.”

  I roll my eyes. “Trust me it’s not that.”

  “Well, let me ask you something, Cal. I’m assuming you want to see her again or you wouldn’t have cared about me offering you the AIC tickets. What happens next?”

  That’s the million-dollar question. I know what I want to happen next, what usually already happens. I smile at her suggestively.

  “So what’s the problem? You have no problems with your sexual prowess so to speak. Or has the medication been affecting you that way?”

  “No! No problems there, trust me.”

  “Well then, what is the issue?” she asks.

  “I don’t think it’ll end there with her. I don’t think that’s all it could be. If that makes sense,” I say, my eyes landing on my lap.

  “My, Cal Scott, have you grown a conscience?” she asks whimsically.

  I don’t say anything because I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

  “Has Lauren expressed to you wanting something more than casual?”

  “No, but I can tell she’s not the casual type.”

  “You’re inferring, and I’ve learned that when people infer it could be a reflection of something within themselves that they’re projecting onto their situation.”

  “Are you saying I want her to want something more than casual because that’s what I want?” I laugh.

  “Is that so ridiculous? You’re an adult now. You’re not the 19 year old I met so long ago,” she says and I roll my eyes.

  “It’s okay for you to desire a higher form of intimacy than just sex. It’s not something that you have to rule out because you associate it with what Chris would possibly want.”

  “This isn’t about him!” I say, feeling my jaw flex.

  “Speaking of Chris—”

  “You brought him up,” I remind her.

  “Have you felt any episodes arising?”

  “If I had, I’d tell you,” I mumble. I’m getting frustrated with this conversation.

  “If you complete my cards, I wouldn’t have to ask you these things,” she says in a singsong voice that annoys me.

  “Can I just get the tickets?” I ask tightly. She smiles and her hand disappears into her drawer and she pulls them out, handing them to me.

  “Also, you pulled up a ton of information on Lauren. What about Clay?” I ask and she sighs.

  “Not any more than last time. It’s a little different to find someone who doesn’t want to be on the radar,” she explains.

  “My patience is running out, Helen,” I warn her, walking towards the door.

  “You wouldn’t be you, if it wasn’t Cal,” she calls back before I leave.

  I always feel lighter when I leave Helen. I joke around with her but there’s more to her than meets the eye. This was just a stop-in with her but usually she’s a griller.

  My phone rings and it’s the person I’ve been waiting on. “Tell me you got something good,” I say, trying to cover my annoyance. I’ve been paying this investigator big bucks and, so far, the trail has been a bunch of dead ends. I know Helen and Dexter have been giving me the run around on Clay but there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

  “We think we’ve spotted him in Ventian.”

  “Ventian?” I say aloud, to make sure I heard what he said right. Of all the places I’ve tracked this guy, he ends up right back in the town he ran from? “Do you have someone tailing him?”

  “Of course. That’s extra, considering what happened last time.”

  “You guys got it wrong the other time. I hope you don’t disappoint me on this one. It won’t be good.”

  I walk to my car thinking of the man who brought me into the world, probably involved lots of beer and the back seat of some shitty car. Why does he get to walk around after everything he did; not one person has made him pay for any of it. I wonder if he thinks about the kids he left behind, if he’s destroyed anymore lives, if he knows that one of them is searching for him, that his time is running out and that the one searching for him will be the one to make him pay.

  It’s morning and I’m in bed alone, no longer wrapped in the warmth of Cal’s arms. I make my way out of bed and prepare myself for another day. What type of day this will be, I can only guess. Today we have to go and get Caylen. Cal will face off with the Scotts and what happens then or after that, I don’t know.

  I look at the clock on the dresser and see it’s not even seven a.m. yet. I take a deep breath and head into the living room of the small house we’ve nested in for the past day or so. It’s cool but foreign, different from our home in Chicago and the Scotts’. It took a while to get used to the Scotts’ place but it eventually became warm and personable. Even though I hated being alone in Chicago, the penthouse was mine, where once Cal and I shared a home. Here, it feels off, like we don’t belong. Neither of us.

  When I reach the living room, I don’t see anyone. I look toward the bathroom and see that it’s empty as well. Then I notice the front door is cracked open. I head back into the bedroom and put on warm clothes. Once I’m outside, I see Cal standing in front of the house, his hands clasped on his head.

  “Cal, what’s wrong?” I ask him as I approach. When he turns around, his expression lost, eyes watery, frustration and confusion evident on his face.

  “Oh no,” I sigh.

  “What happened? Where are we?” he asks painfully. My stomach drops and I feel my throat tighten. I try to think of what to say to him, how to answer his questions, how to assure him that everything is okay. I need to be strong but I feel weak. I’m confused myself and overwhelmed. I try to say something but as soon as my mouth opens, I feel as if I’m going to vomit.

  “Are you okay?” he says, concern replacing his puzzled expression.

  “I—I don’t know.” I chuckle and begin to laugh as tears begin to fall down my cheeks.

  He doesn’t remember anything.

  Nothing important at least.

  The last thing he remembers is being at the hotel room back in Detroit and talking to me through the bathroom door. Which means he doesn’t remember us making love or telling me that he loves me, which makes this entire situation that much more complicated. He’s trying to comfort me but he’s shaken himself and he should be. He’s lost and sullen, just like I am, and now I have to explain to him what happened. I don’t even know now if it was even him that said those things or whether it was Cal all along. That thought alone makes my blood boil. If it was Cal then that means that moment between Chris and me hadn’t actually been a moment between Chris and me at all and was nothing more than a trick, a test, a sick, twisted game…

  “I’m so tired of this!” he says grimly. Frustration is radiating from his entire body. I want to comfort him, to tell him everything is going to be okay, but I don’t know if anything is okay. Cal was just here last night in this house and now Chris stands before me with not a clue about what’s happened. I don’t know what to think or how I should feel. I’m at a loss. I feel more lost than before I knew about Cal’s…or Chris’s condition.

  “Going back and forth. Why does he do this? Why am I doing this?” he says, his voice rising slightly in panic. “How do we do this if he can come and go whenever he feels like it?”

  “I—I thought that this would be okay. That everything would be fine, Chris, but I can’t even tell you how I feel right now. I don’t know how to feel. This is so…” My voice breaks. I stand up and try to make my way to the bathro
om when Chris stops me, gently touching both my shoulders. My eyes meet his warm, greenish-grey ones and it makes me feel sick that the man looking at me doesn’t remember what he said to me, how he touched me.

  “Lauren, what’s wrong? I know I missed something. Tell me what,” he asks looking me in the eyes.

  “It’s not important,” I say, trying to plaster the fake smile I’d perfected in the weeks prior but am having a hard time even mustering right now.

  “No, it has to be.”

  I shake my head, denying it. “You should probably call your mom,” I say, quickly trying to hold my emotions together as best I can before they pour out of me. Crying in the bathroom has become such a pathetic routine but routines are comforting and safe.

  Once I reach my safe haven I try to catch the breath that keeps trying to escape me. I’m shaking. I have to make myself calm down. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s just split my world in two, that’s all. I have to get it together.

  I can’t be weak. I don’t even have the luxury to choose to be weak. One of us has to be the strong one and I can’t depend on it being Chris or Cal, or anyone besides myself. Everyone can’t be a basket case. Someone has to hold it together for Caylen. The thought of her makes anxiety course through my veins. The good thing is this doesn’t affect her yet. She’s only one but what happens when she older? How is she supposed to understand? Understand that daddy isn’t exactly the same daddy every day. How do I get my child to comprehend and understand when Mommy can’t?

  That’s what Raven meant about protecting her from all this. But how do I protect her from the man who helped create her, who loves her. I know for a fact both Cal and Chris love her. It’s the one thing they have in common. Cal came back and broke through whatever haze he was in to see her. Chris has fallen in love with her but how do I not worry? Am I doing the right thing for her? Are they doing the right thing for her? It’s like they’re both at war, locked in a battle against one another and it’s not helping anyone, not even themselves. It’s destroying everyone around them. I can’t believe Cal. I wonder if he knew that when he woke up, Chris would be back. I think back to his words. Describing his absences as dreams. It makes me so mad. He gets to go away and dream while leaving me in this nightmare. He’s a selfish asshole and a smart one. He had to have known that this was going to happen. That’s why he fed me that bullshit last night, barely telling me anything, asking if it could be enough. I should have said ‘Fuck no! I need to know everything!’ but, of course, Cal plays me like a violin. No, not a violin. I won’t even compare this disaster to a classical instrument. He plays me like a three year old plays with a toy, without thought or compassion, and I’m the toy without a brain.

  7

  May 10th 2008

  A bust. A fucking bust! Why does everyone I hire have to be such a fucking idiot? It’s better to do things yourself than to depend on anyone else. The dunce detectives I hired lost him. How the hell do you lose a 50 year old alcoholic with a limp? Fucking dummies. I should have gone as soon as they told me they found him. I should have hopped on the jet and went straight there.

  “We’ll be landing in five minutes Mr. Scott,” the attendant on the jet tells me, looking at the glass on the floor from one of the bottles I threw across the cabin.

  “I will be back in to clean that up for you,” she says. I wave her off.

  “I’ll do it, don’t worry about it,” I say, frustrated.

  “Fuck!” I say aloud. I almost had him. Right in my grasp. I was going to be able to break his fucking neck, and they lose him. I lean back into whatever foreign material seats Dexter probably paid a million fucking dollars for. Thinking of him pisses me off even more. He thinks he’s so slick, saying he can’t find Clay, to give him time while he sits back twiddling his damn thumbs. It’s fine though. Maybe it’s time to twiddle my own thumbs for a while. He thinks he's the only one that can play that game? Fuck Dexter Crestfield, I’ve been too nice, too calm, too relaxed. I’ve learned that doesn’t get you anywhere. My phone vibrates and I see it’s a text message from my driver Byron, letting me know they’ve arrived at the landing site. It surprises me that I feel my anger and frustration dissipating, as I think of the package he’s bringing me.

  Lauren Brooks, hopefully wrapped in a nice tight little bow, just for me. This definitely isn’t a good night for me to see her. I’m frustrated and need a release. I haven’t had sex in almost 3 weeks which is a record, for me at least, and after this shit today I need a girl I can have climbing walls tonight. I try to push aside the image of how she’d look as I make her cum.

  I’ve never tried this hard to convince myself to not have sex with a girl before. She’s beautiful, hot as hell, funny, sweet, and smart, but she likes me and that’s the problem. Most girls don’t like me, they like how I look, the cars that I drive, the money I have, and the places I take them.

  Which is cool since I usually just like the way they look, smell and feel under or on top of me, but she’s different. She’s dangerous for me. She doesn’t even know it, I can’t let her know it. I need to get a fucking grip. I’m pulling out the Aston tonight. One of Dex’s many toys, I don’t even know why, we could have just taken the limo like I planned but I want her to see it. It worries me that I want to impress her. It’s not hard to impress girls, and usually I don’t give a shit. The universe didn’t give me much but it gave me looks that make girls wet and usually the more of a dick you are the more girls like you. Since I’ve been told I’m naturally a dick, it works out for me, but around her I don’t want to be an ass. I call her and she’s excited, her voice is high but sometimes in the conversation it’ll drop an octave, becoming low and seductive, and I wonder if she knows what it does to me. She seems innocent, which makes me think of how fun it would be to corrupt her, even though I like her just the way she is.

  It’s a catch 22.

  Once I’m off the plane and when I see her, it’s the first time in my life I want to freeze a moment. She’s waiting for me outside the limo, and how beautiful she is smacks me in the face. The dress she’s wearing reminds me how sexy she is, it isn’t tight but short, revealing just enough to make me want to know what’s under it. And it’s thin enough I can rip it off in seconds. The closer I get to her the more adrenaline I feel, my blood already pulsing through my entire body. She smiles at me as I get closer to her, a smile I could see every day. A smile that reminds you of your childhood, fresh baked cookies right out the oven, and as my eyes make my way down her body I feel hungry for anything but food.

  “You look,” I have to stop myself from saying something that will scare her off. I don’t usually censor myself so who knows what the hell will come flying out of my mouth. I want to stop looking at her but I can’t and I have to see the full view.

  “You’ve got to do a spin for me.” I take every inch of her in. She starts to blush, looking away from me bashfully, and I’m even more turned on.

  “Hold that thought.” I walk behind her to get a better view. She’s a ten from front to back. I have to touch her, but once I do I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. Still I can’t help myself. I won’t touch her anywhere I want, that’s a lie. I want to touch her everywhere and not stop but I control myself. I’ll just touch her waist, her stomach, those are safe zones. My hands slide across the thin material and I feel her relax and I pull her toward me. She feels so good, she smells good, I’ve got to stop or we won’t even make it to this opening.

  You need to give her an out.

  I can’t. Not now, it’s too late.

  I want her.

  For how long?

  Long enough.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” I whisper in her ear, ignoring the voice in my head.

  Note to self. Have Helen up my meds.

  Something happened. I keep trying to think while Lauren has locked herself in the bathroom. Everything has gone so wrong, it’s usually what happens after he comes out. He ruins everything. This is the worst I’ve
felt in a long time. Not knowing what the hell is going on, what he did. Why Lauren looked at me with a hint of resentment in her eye, that’s when she did look at me. It’s like she can’t even look at me at all, and how can I expect her to? What the hell did he do? Why am I in Ventian? I want to know everything but I know this isn’t the time to bombard her with questions, she seems about a second away from having a nervous breakdown. I try to pull myself together. I have to fix this. Whatever happened, whatever he did to screw things up I have to fix. I always fix them, this shouldn’t be any different. I hear my phone ring and go to pick it up. It’s my mom.

  “Hi,” she says hesitantly.

  “Mom,” I say relieved. No matter how bad things get her voice always gives me hope that they can get better.

  “Chris! It’s you honey. Thank God. Are you okay, is Lauren okay? William, its Chris!” she says, going a hundred miles an hour.

  “How’s Caylen?”

  “She’s fine Christopher but where are you? What happened?” It’s my dad's voice on the phone.

  “I’m in this place called Ventian. I-I don’t know how I got here. Or why I’m here,” I say, trying to sound as calm as I can.

  “It doesn’t matter son. You just need to come home. Now. The safest place to be is with us,” my dad says.

  “Is Lauren with you honey?” my mom asks.

  “Yeah, she’s in the bathroom. She’s pretty overwhelmed with all of this. She didn’t expect to see me this morning. I’m guessing Cal came back,” I admit, feeling my stomach sink. “When she saw me, she seemed confused and upset but the worst part of all this is that I think she was disappointed that I was here and Cal was gone, but I mean what did I expect?”

  “Oh honey. Please don’t think that,” my mom interrupts me.

  “Well, son, that is the problem with you being with Lauren. She’s not rooting for you. It’s always going to be for Cal,” my dad interjects.