Ash to Steele (34 page)

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Authors: Karen-Anne Stewart

BOOK: Ash to Steele
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   The elevator opens.  I step inside blindly.  I can’t think. I can barely function.  My entire body is numb as I open my apartment door, not remembering anything about the drive there.  My clothes are still on the bed from where Justin threw them.  Breck’s shirt, that I confiscated to use when I paint, hangs on the post of the bed and I pick it up, inhaling his scent and, then, I finally lose it.   Everything comes crashing down.  The pain of giving all of me to Breck and him just throwing me away, Justin’s cruel words, my failures, riot inside.  I run into the spare room, my heart bleeding as I rip the paintings off the walls and knock them off of the canvases, leaving them in a heap on the middle of the floor. 

  It doesn’t take long to shove my clothes and few personal belongings inside my bag, my heart breaking all over again at how I don’t even have a picture of Breck and me except what is on my phone.  I gave him everything, my heart, my virginity, my soul, and he left me with no personal ties, nothing tangible I can touch, only the pain that I can’t stop.  God it hurts so much. Tears brim in my eyes again but I furiously swipe at them with the back of my hand.  Damn the tears.  Damn the pain!  I want to curse Breck, but I can’t.  Just the thought of him strips the air straight from my lungs.  He is nothing but an illusion, a cruel contradiction. 

   Walking by the dresser on my way out of this life, the mirror reflects a girl I barely recognize.  My gaze falls to my mother’s star, and I can’t take anymore.  Ripping it off, I rub the charm between my fingers before dropping it down on the dresser. 
Have you lost your way?
I remember Breck’s words.  They taunt me and I’ve never felt so lost, so alone.

   The drive to Jess’ apartment is filled with some of the best memories I’ve had with anyone.  I haven’t even known her a full year but she’s my best friend, and the ache of losing her on top of everything else is unbearable.  I don’t have the strength to tell her good-bye in person so I take the coward’s way out and leave her a message, telling her I left the angel painting for her and that I’m so sorry.  Driving away, my cell rings, and I see the picture of Jess and my face pressed together, laughing, at the Halloween party.  I turn off my phone, wishing I could do the same with my life. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 
Beautifully Broken

 

Breck

 

 

   Jess isn’t at the bar.  Too preoccupied, I don’t knock; I just burst through the door to the office in the Dark Hole, “Where is she?!”

   Jess grabs a full bottle of beer and throws it at my head, “Get out, you BASTARD!”

  Quickly ducking, I barely dodge the bottle as it smashes against the wall, “What the hell, Jess?”

   She charges me, her face furious and her tear swollen eyes full of murder, “Don’t you dare come in here ever again!” she yells, raising her hand to slap me.

   I catch her wrist, “Calm down, Jess, I don’t have time for this right now!”

   “I don’t give a damn, Breck!  How could you do that to Emma?  She’s not one of your whores!  You selfish bastard, she was your friend!” tears pour from Jess’ eyes as she begins to sob, “
my
friend.”

   I don’t even try to defend myself, I am a fucking bastard.  Pulling her into my arms, she pounds her fists against my chest until she succumbs to the tears and crashes against me.  “Tell me where she is, Jess. Please.”

   “She’s gone,” she whimpers into my shirt. 

   “Back home?”

   She nods, “She called about a half hour ago.”

   I leave Jess standing there as I sprint towards the door.  My hand rests on the knob as I turn around, “I’m sorry, Jess.  I really fucked up this time, but I give you my word that I’ll fix this.”  I don’t waste time waiting on a response. 

   Emma still doesn’t answer after calling her for at least the tenth time.  The traffic is infuriating and it’s impossible to keep my eyes on the road and try to scan every vehicle I’m passing on the way.  I’ve been driving for about an hour when I finally see her piece of shit car and I weave in and out of traffic until I’m next to her.  Blaring the horn, she glances over her shoulder, her red brimmed eyes slaying me.  I hold up the phone. She speeds up.  Pushing on the pedal, I get as close to her in the lane as I can without hitting her car and slam the phone against my passenger window, trying not to wreck and kill us both before dialing her again, “Pull over, Emma!”

   “Leave me the hell alone, Breck.”

   “Emma, I’m sorry, please stop the car.”

   “No!”

   “I swear to God, if you don’t pull over, I’m going to call the cops and tell them you stole the fucking car,” I threaten, meaning every word. 

   There’s a long pause before she closes the phone and swerves into the exit lane.  Pulling into the gas station lot, I throw the Hummer to a jerky stop and jump out before yanking open E
mma’s door, reaching across her and undoing the seatbelt before pulling her out of the car.  I press my hands on either side of her shoulders as I pin her against the door.  She starts to yell, and I clasp my hand over her mouth, “Just shut up and listen to what I have to say! I don’t know where to begin or what to do to fix the damage I’ve caused.  I know I swore that I would try not to fuck up with you, but I did.  I do. I will! That’s just who I am.  I’m not the type of man you need in your life.  Hell, you’re better off not even knowing I exist.  There are very few things I’m good at, but protecting the people I care about is one of them.  Last night, I stayed awake until dawn, just watching you.  I couldn’t sleep thinking about what we did, what I’ve never done before I met you!  I stared down at you lying in my arms and I knew I had to have you as mine, for the rest of my life.  The second I knew that, that’s when I also knew that I had to let you go.”

   Emma squirms against my hand, trying to talk, but I clasp my fingers against her mouth harder.  “Let me finish, Dammit!”  I loosen my hand over her lips as I shove my other hand into my pocket, retrieving her mother’s necklace, dangling it in front of her face, “Everybody is a damn hypocrite, Emma, but you are less of one than anyone I’ve ever known.  I’ve taken everything from you and given you nothing.  But I did it to protect you, not realizing how much I was hurting you in the process.” Pain sears my soul, and I can’t keep the affliction from straining my voice, “I’ve fallen in love with you, Emma.  You’ve changed me.  There’s not one piece of me that hasn’t been affected by you. By who you are!” 

   Tears stream down her face, leaving warm wet trails over my hand as I finally pull my fingers from her mouth.  For several seconds, she just stares at me, those blue eyes stealing my soul before she swallows, hard.  “I never meant to change you.”

   “Maybe changed isn’t the word I should use.  You’ve reclaimed me. I never thought that was possible, Emma, and if I was a decent man I would return the favor by walking away from you right now!”

   “Then-,” she breathes, her lips slowly curving, “-you sure as hell better not be a decent man.” 

  Relief and trepidation pour through my veins and I grip the doorframe
to keep my knees from buckling, “There are no worries about that, Emma.”  Finding my strength, I lean my lips to where they are brushing against hers, “Now, get your ass in my car so I can take you home and prove it.”

 

   “
I guess I
need to meet your father,” I mumble against Emma’s neck as I trace my tongue down her flesh, tasting me on her skin. 

   “Why’s th
at?” she asks, her voice sleepy from what I’ve done to her and she softly moans, curling up against me.

   “Because
I’ve already gone and jacked his daughter’s virginity, the least I can do is talk to the man before I put a ring on her finger.”

    Emma scoots back from me, her lips parted and eyes round
, as she gapes at me, “Did you just propose?”

   I trail my finger slowly across the angel’s wing on her arm, “I meant what I said about ‘for the rest of my life’.  I’m not smooth with words, Emma, and I sure as hell am not the type of man who’s romantic or even considerate most of the time, but I’ll always take care of you, and, despite my reputation, I will be faithful.  I also still mean it when I said you don’t have to choose.  I know you’re struggling with the whole sex before marriage thing.”

   A sly grin curves her lips, “Ah, so that’s it.  You’re marrying me so I’ll keep having sex with you.”

   Grabbing her arms, I flip her underneath me, sliding my hands to her wrists, gently pinning them agai
nst the bed, “I’m marrying you because I’m in love with you, smartass.”  Giving her my best cocky grin, I smirk, “And, because you’ve already done irreparable damage to my fuck ‘em and leave ‘em reputation, not to mention blown my stringent code of rules all to hell, so I might as well go all out and kill the rest of my image. That is, if you still want me.”

   Her eyes soften as her lips brush against mine, “I want you
, Breck. I want all of you.  The good and the bad.”

   “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I warn, wanting to forget what she’s so desperate to know. 

   She wiggles underneath me, trying to free herself from my grasp, but I tighten my fingers around her slender wrists.  I want to have her again so badly, I’m almost panting.  “You’re mine now, Emma.  There’s no going back.  Can you handle that?”

   “I can handle a helluva a lot more than you give me credit for.”

   I won’t test that.  I won’t lose her.  “So, is that a yes?”

   “Even though that was probably the worst proposal in history, it’s still a resounding yes!” She raises her head, pressing her mouth against mine, plunging her soft, sweet tongue inside. 

   I kiss her back before sweeping my lips against the corner of her mouth and eye.  “C’mon, Jess made me promise to bring you tonight.  She has your favorite band scheduled for your birthday and she’s already tried to knock my head off once tonight, she’ll follow through if I don’t deliver you to her by 8:00.”

   “I’m going to take a quick shower.” Emma slides out of bed and grabs a towel, stopping when she looks at the closet door, “I know my beliefs bother you.  Those paintings, they’re just something I painted to help me process everything I’m feeling.  You weren’t supposed to see them.  And, as far as the sex, can I think about that?”

   “The paintings are amazing, Em.  All of them are.  If you don’t call John Mazers tomorrow to set up an appointment, I’m going to kick your cute little ass.”  I slip into my jeans before grabbing her waist and pulling her naked body against me, “And, if you ever think that you’re lumped in with my thousands of mistakes again, there’s not a safe word in existence that will save you; I’ll bust your ass for real.”

   Her giggles fill the room and I groan, smacking her behind and pushing her towards the shower, before I go back on my word and ravish her again. 

   The bar is packed more than usual tonight.  This band is more than just Emma’s favorite, they are in high demand.  The Dark Hole is their last gig before going on tour.  Emma’s fingers are tangled in mine as I lead her through the crowd to the bar.  Jess’ eyes light up when she sees her and reaches over the bar, pulling Emma towards her until she’s on her tiptoes as she squeezes tightly. 

   “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I’m going to kick your ass, Emma!” she squeals, giving her another hug. 

   “I’m sorry,” Emma gives a sheepish grin. 

   “It’s not you who should be apologizing,” Jess quips, cutting her eyes at me, “Breck’s going to be on the hook for a long time with this one.  I hope you made him grovel.”

   Emma’s left thumb absently brushes against her bare ring finger and she smiles, “He’s forgiven.”

   Gavin slips behind Emma and picks her up, plopping her butt on the bar, “It’s tradition for the birthday girl to take shots until you’re pissed.”

   “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Emma laughs, then her beautiful giggles halt, her blue eyes locked over my shoulder. 

   Instinctively, I step in front of her, my fist coiled as I spin around.  Emma’s hand grips my arm when I see a brown haired man who’s a little taller than I am staring back at Emma.  He looks like a jock, the type of man I beat the hell out of when they started shit in high school and college.  I have a feeling I’m getting ready to have to beat his ass, too. 

   “Can I talk to you, Emma?” he asks in a southern accent, his jaw twitching, and I want to break it, suddenly realizing who it is.   

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