Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  Before I know it, he’s beside me. His car left beside the road, Michael runs to me and snatches my arm. “Don’t say that!”

  “Are you serious?” I yank my arm away and shove him toward the road. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Elizabeth, stop!”

  I don’t stop, but I call over my shoulder, “That’s not my name, remember.” Tears stream down my face and there’s a lump in my throat. I don’t know if he even heard me.

  “Fine!” Michael yells over the traffic. “You brought this on yourself. So if you want to get hit by a car or kidnapped, go right ahead.” His footsteps recede, like he’s going back to his car.

  I fall to the ground and slip down the embankment, panting and screaming. Terror grips me and I can’t move, can’t pull myself up out of the ditch. I can’t breathe. It’s too much. I don’t want to go on anymore.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next thing I know, we're in his car. I fight against his arm around me and try to jiggle the handle. It's locked. "What are you doing? Let me out!"

  "Stop!" Michael yells. His face is right next to mine so I feel the words more than hear them. He shakes me just to be sure. "You were freaking out. I didn't want you to get hurt. You could have run out into the road for all I knew." The look on his face tells me it's the truth. He's flushed and I almost think I see tears in his eyes.

  I'm not about to apologize to him... I tell myself before the words come out of my mouth. "I’m sorry. Just let me out at the bus stop." I straighten myself up and try to pick the grass and muck off my clothes. I'm in horrible shape. I can't go back to the office like this.

  "What's wrong with you?" Michael asks, his tone more caring and quiet now. "You scared the shit out of me." He puts the car in reverse and I realize he must have gotten out and left it running. His precious Porsche.

  Still. He did this to me. "What do you care? Really, Michael? You got what you want. I'm out. You're in. Just drop me off and leave me alone." I settle myself into the car and stare at the road ahead.

  "I can't do that. You can't be alone right now. I... I didn't want it to end like this. I just..." Then, something changes in the air and his anger is back, full force. "You did this! You ruined my life and you deserve what happened in there. It's only fair."

  Fair? I think. He has no idea about fair. But it's not my job to explain it to him, either. "Whatever. Just put me out somewhere. I don't care. I can't be near you right now." I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my favorite blouse.

  Moments pass in silence as I watch two bus stops fly by. I don't understand what's going on until I see the street sign up ahead. "You can't be serious?" I bang on the door to be let out.

  "You look like shit, Elizabeth. I'm trying to help." He turns on Hamilton, the road to his apartment complex.

  "Help? I bet. Help yourself to..." I stop. I can't say it. What he's about to do to me is too awful for words, and a fitting end to how the day started.

  We say nothing as he pulls me out of the car and leads me up the stairs. I don't even try to run or scream. What's the point? I've been in this situation time and time before. They always catch you. And then you get the beating of a lifetime, but not anywhere that will leave a mark. No, Eric was too smart for that.

  My instincts kick in, but not until we're already inside. I slap Michael across the face and he throws me down on the couch. "Dammit! Can't you chill for one damn second?" He goes to the kitchen and I hear the silverware drawer open. The sound of metal scraping against metal. He's getting a knife!

  I run to the door but it's locked. Panic sets in. My heart lurches. I start rubbing my muddy shoes into his carpet. I wipe the grass from my blouse onto his curtains; anything to prove I was here.

  I start to think about my family, about how I never got to spend enough time with them after what happened. I just ran off to school and threw myself into my studies. And to what end? Sabotage and murder? He's going to kill me over a misunderstanding. Savannah was right. I should have sabotaged his career. At least I'd be safe in my office right now.

  Michael comes toward me with a pair of scissors in his hand.

  I flinch and run toward the bathroom. Maybe I can lock myself in. Where's my phone?

  He catches me before I get the door closed and turns me around. "Be still!"

  The scissors come at me and I close my eyes. Please God make it quick. I hear them snip by my head and open my eyes.

  Michael is holding a twisted muddy clump of my hair. He shows it to me. "No way you were gonna be able to comb that out," he says as he tosses it in the bathroom garbage can. "Will you just chill for a minute? You're really making me nervous."

  I'm making him nervous. That's rich. "Can I just go home, please? I won't tell anyone. I'll quit... I'm probably fired anyway. Just... please let me go." I plead with Michael as I follow him to the front room. He motions for me to sit back down on the couch, and I obey. If I learned anything from my time with Eric it's that you follow orders or else.

  "I'm sorry, I can't let that happen." The fire in Michael's eyes returns and his wide, strong jaw, sets. I see him clenching and unclenching his teeth in anger.

  "What do you want from me?" I ask, although I'm terrified of the answer. I thought I was free of all this.

  "What I want," Michael says with a fierceness I can't bear, "is for you to tell me what the hell your problem is. I think I deserve to know." He tosses the scissors back in the kitchen drawer and slowly walks toward me. He takes the chair across from the couch and leans in. His hands are shaking as if they want nothing more than to be around my throat, choking the life out of me.

  "My problem?" As much danger as I'm in right now, I can't stop the incredulity from bursting from my chest. "I thought we had put the awfulness behind us. I thought you would work as a mature adult beside me and finish this project. But no. You had to go and ruin everything I'd worked so hard to achieve. And for what? Revenge? You idiot! We both ran that project together. Everyone saw us. If I go down for it, so do you. And what about when corporate finds out you sabotaged one of our biggest customer's projects for a personal vendetta?"

  By the time the words are out, Michael's off his seat and in my face. Our foreheads are pressed hard against each other and he's breathing spittle onto me. I can smell the raw maleness of him. I feel his trembling hands squeeze my arms as if he's going to throttle me or shake the hell out of me. "You... ruined... my... life... first."

  The words come out with a quiet tremor of rage and I swallow hard, preparing myself for the pain that’s to come next. My whole body tenses, not knowing where the blow will come from. But I know it's coming. It always comes.

  "You think you'll be around to tell them that I did it?" His voice barely registers

  My eyes open. The whites of Michael's eyes have gone red. He's visibly trembling all over now.

  "Please, Michael. I just want to go home," I beg. His grip tightens on my arms until I feel like my bones will break.

  "No!" This time the scream is aimed at the sky and Michael pushes himself off me. I fall backward onto the couch and hit my head. I let out a yelp that sounds like a wounded animal, which causes Michael to turn back toward me again. He's breathing hard, a predator who knows he's cornered his prey.

  "I won't tell. You just said yourself, I won't even be around to tell." Not sure if reminding him of his death threat is the right thing, but it's all I can think to say at the moment.

  Michael lunges for me. "You're right. You won't."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "I guess we’re even now. So why don't we have some fun?" Michael's lips graze mine and I turn away. "We probably aren't coworkers anymore." A leer spreads across his face as he goes in for another kiss.

  "What? No! What are you doing?" I push against him but he's too strong, too heavy. I can only cower as he kisses me hard. So many memories come flooding back, things they used to do to me, things I allowed to happen. All for him.

  With a roar, I shove Michael away, and yell at him
to keep his filthy hands off me. I'm not his toy. I will not be treated this way. As he’s falling, he reaches for me and rips the side of my blouse clear down the front.

  Instead of anger or rage, I see pain in his eyes. He looks up at me from the chair where he's landed and furrows his brow. "I can't. I just can't."

  He throws his hands up and I take it as a sign that he's about to hit me. I cover my head.

  Instead of a crushing blow, Michael takes me in his arms. "Beth, what happened to you?"

  "That’s none of your business! But just how did you think I would react? You brought me to your apartment and went straight for a pair of scissors... after making me lose my job. And now you're forcing yourself on me." Fury heaves inside me at the memory of this morning.

  Michael slumps to the couch beside me. "Forcing myself..." He sighs heavily and lets go of my arm. "I thought we were doing a thing, you know, like before.”

  “Like before? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?” I pull my torn shirt across my chest. “Michael, what’s gotten into you? I didn’t think you could be like this.” My first reaction is to step toward him, comfort him. But again, the look in his eyes makes me take a step back instead.

  The anger visibly bubbles inside him. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Everyone thinks I’m a... that I could... so why not, huh? Why not, Elizabeth?”

  “Because you’re a good person. I wouldn’t have... wouldn’t still-” My words are cut off by his mouth, urgent and pleading on mine. And this time, I don’t push him away. Instead, I melt, but only for a moment before the fear and anger flood over me. I slap him across the face.

  I try to pull back in fear, but Michael squeezes me tighter. Through frenzied kisses, he whispers, “This is happening.” It’s an order I know I’m powerless to resist. Somewhere deep inside me a fire ignites, years of pent up need and hurt that will not be ignored any longer.

  He’s on me before I know it. His weight and power pressing me into the couch. His mouth over mine sucking the life out of me. I push back, flipping us over in one swift motion until he’s the one shoved into the cushions and I’m taking what’s rightfully mine. I’m in control and he will do as I wish.

  “Take off your pants,” I command. “Now.”

  Michael lifts me off of him with ease and sits me on the coffee table. His hands begin to tear at my blouse, or what’s left of it, but I slap them away. “Pants,” I repeat.

  When he hesitates, I pull my blouse closed, covering my heaving chest.

  He quickly removes his belt and yanks his pants down to his ankles. I watch him come to life before my eyes and when I can’t take another second, I say, “Bed. Now.”

  Michael scoops me up and carries me away.

  AS SOON AS THE DOOR closes, I’m gripped with fear. What have I gotten myself into? What if he’s just like - and then he kisses me. His lips are soft yet urgent. Pleading yet tentative. Just what I need.

  I melt into him for a single moment before regaining my composure. There is a mission at hand.

  Michael leans us over the bed as if to lay me down, but I twist at the last second, and we fall together. He’s under me, and I’m tearing at his shirt.

  “Whoa.” He grabs at my wrists. “This is Armani.”

  I slap his hands away and give his left nipple a pinch through the fabric. It hardens instantly and his fingers find a new home kneading the flesh on my hips. “That’s enough out of you,” I say, sliding myself down to bite the other nipple. When I do, I find that they’re not the only parts of him already responding to my commands. “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?” he asks with half a smile, squeezing and pulling me to him.

  “That all your machismo is for show. You don’t really want to be in charge,” I smirk back before kissing him slowly. His hands move from my hips to my face and our kiss becomes more urgent. A feverish heat rises between us and a moan escapes my lips.

  “Knew it,” Michael whispers.

  “What?” I reply into his mouth.

  “That you love my machismo.” Michael’s fingers crawl their way to my hair and wrap around my curls. He tightens his grip and presses me down onto him. His hips push up toward me. Our fires meet.

  Over the wave of heat that pours through me, his words find their way into my consciousness. I try to push them away but it’s no use. Is that what he calls costing me my job? Machismo. Anger takes over. I shove him back, hitting his head on the wall.

  Michael must take my aggression as foreplay because he yanks harder on my hair. “Two can play that game.” Something in his voice, or the memory of the last time my hair was pulled that way, send me reeling.

  Everything goes black. I squeeze my eyes shut and all I can see is the wrinkles snarl of my last ’customer’ when he didn’t believe he got his money’s worth. A shadow of his handprint flares on my cheek.

  A sound like a wounded animal escapes my lips and I crawl backwards off of Michael, wrapping my open shirt around myself.

  “Hey, whoa.” Michael snatches at me as I fall to the side of the bed. He doesn’t quite get a grip. Instead, his nails rip down the side of my leg.

  “Get away from me!”

  “God, please don’t do this right now. I thought —” Michael stops as I curl into the fetal position.

  Neither of us moves or breathes for a long moment. When my breathing slows, I open my eyes to see him standing at the edge of the bed, one arm raised as if he wants to comfort me but is frozen in fear of the repercussions.

  He looks more helpless than I feel. “I need to go home.” It’s the only thing I can think to say.

  “We can’t leave things like this again.” Though his body language is one of supplication, his voice is the same old commanding tenor that I’ve come to revile. It’s the last thing I want to hear at the moment.

  “How we leave things is not up to you. This is my choice. Mine!” I’m yelling now, to the point where my voice cracks and dies in my throat.

  Rage flashes across Michael’s face. His eyes narrow and I watch, mute with terror, as he clenches his jaw and fists again. My body tenses in preparation for the blow. Then, almost as quickly as it appears, his expression softens. His fists relax and he covers his face, but not in time to hide the tears brimming in his eyes.

  After a quiet moment, Michael asks through his hands, “What happened to you?”

  This time, instead of screaming at him that it’s none of his business, I sigh and sit up. “So much.” It’s all I can get out, but it’s enough.

  Michael bends over to wrap his arms around me. His bare chest is hot against my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Beth. What have I done?”

  I don’t answer because I don’t want to think about it. I want to stay like this, safe in his embrace. We’ve both hurt each other. He didn’t deserve being put in the situation I put him in. But I can’t talk about it. I just can’t. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

  Michael pulls away. He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face to him. With a tender kiss on my forehead, he whispers, “You don’t have to say anything. And we don’t have to do anything. I’ll take you home and I’ll fix everything at work. Everything will be fine. I promise.” He kisses me once more before taking a step back.

  Without thinking, I cling to him so he can’t leave me. “Please,” I say.

  A flurry of new emotions passes across Michael’s eyes in an instant. He understands. Wordlessly, he removes the rest of his shirt and sits on the bed beside me. With great care, he slowly raises my blouse over my head and lays me back.

  When he rolls himself onto me, my first reaction is to tense up, but he stops so I can regain my composure. It doesn’t take long for the weight of his body to remind me why I’ve wanted him so much.

  Michael stares down at me, but his eyes aren’t on my chest. He places a gentle nibble on my neck. “I remember the first time I saw you. I thought you looked like royalty, like one of those Renaissance paintings. Your skin is like porcelain.�
� Another, more pressing bite tugs at my neck. The last bit of apprehension falls away.

  “When I -” The words catch in my throat and I feel myself redden.

  “What?” Michael asks.

  I turn my head. “No, it’s...” I smile and bury my face in the bed.

  “Oh, you have to tell me now.” Michael bites the other side of my neck and I groan.

  “I... I thought your lips would be perfect for... what you’re doing now.”

  With newfound boldness, I pull him in, pressing his lips to my neck harder.

  When he comes up for air, he asks, “You sure you weren’t thinking of them somewhere else?” His eyebrows raise, for effect... and permission. I give a faint nod and Michael’s wolfish grin appears.

  Determined, he eases himself down my body, running fingers and lips over every inch until he finds what he’s looking for.

  My back arches and I tense, this time for all the right reasons. I can only take so much before I grab his hair and pull him back up.

  I feel him pressing against me and I know he’s as ready as I am. His hands move to his belt.

  “No!” I stop him.

  A small whimper escapes his lips.

  “Let me,” I say, and fumble with his zipper. After a moment, Michael’s hand covers mine and we release him together.

  The weight of him falls into my hand and it’s my turn to whimper. All I can think is ‘how in the world is this gonna work?’

  He must sense my apprehension because he kisses me, long and passionate, and says, “Slowly.”

  And that’s exactly how it works. Slow and steady, we writhe beneath his sheets and on top of them, on the floor and against the wall, until we’re both rising and falling with the moon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Michael and I spend the entire weekend together. Rarely do we leave the comfort of his bed, other than for necessities like food and lots of water.

  “I don’t want to show my face at work tomorrow,” I say into his chest late Sunday.