Beautifully Damaged (20 page)

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Authors: L.A. Fiore

BOOK: Beautifully Damaged
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I couldn't read his reaction to that question at all. He didn't answer me just silently stood there.

"What's happening to us, Trace?"

"Nothing. Just because I'm not home all the time doesn't mean anything is wrong. I do have a life outside of you, Ember."

"I never suggested otherwise but I'm also not an idiot. You're backing away, putting distance between us and shutting me out. Why?"

He looked as if he was going to blow the question off but then changed his mind. What he said left me just as confused.

"The less you know about my past and personal life the better."

I took that hit in stride before I asked, "You're never going to trust me enough to let me in, are you?"

Something flashed in his eyes in reaction to that but I couldn't discern what emotion fueled it before he said, "It's not a matter of trust, Ember, I just don't see the point in sharing the ugliness of my past."

"The point, Trace, is that your past still has power over you and still influences your decisions. To not know your past, I'll never truly know you and if I never truly know you, then what's the point of whatever this is between us?"

"What are you saying, Ember?"

"I'm saying if you can't let me in, we're never going to work."

I couldn't describe the look I saw in his eyes but it broke my heart to see it.

"I'm not your forever guy, Ember. We were never going to have the happily-ever-after. I thought you knew that."

My heart just stopped because I hadn't thought that at all. I loved him and though I wasn't demanding marriage, I saw us as that old couple that still holds hands in their eighties. I thought he felt that way, too.

"What are you saying, Trace?"

"I thought you would have come to your senses by now and realized that you were slumming by being with me. I'm the one you bide your time with, Ember, until Mr. Forever comes along."

"You are my forever, Trace. You actually believe I could feel any other way about you?"

"Why not? Every other person in my life comes to realize that I'm a piece of shit, so why not you."

"Who's Charles Michaels?"

Anger flashed across his face in reaction to that question.

"An asshole."

"Funny how your pushing me away coincides with that man making regular appearances in the local news. Maybe I should go talk with him and find out what your connection is to him. Perhaps he won't be so closed lipped."

I didn't even get to finish that statement as Trace's hands wrapped around my arms almost painfully and when he spoke, his voice was frightening.

"Stay the fuck away from him, Ember. Do you hear me? I don't want you anywhere near that man."

"Why?"

A horrible sneer covered his face when he replied, "Because he'd chew up and spit out a sweet innocent like you without even giving it a moment's thought."

He released my arms and took a step away from me. "Are we done? I have a fight."

I felt the tears but held them as I whispered, "We're done."

I watched him leave as my heart hurt because I wasn't losing him; I had already lost him.

Chapter Thirteen

A couple days later I received a call from Mr. Baker asking that I come into the office. There wasn't a staff meeting so I was curious why he wanted to see me. I wondered if it had anything to do with my last assignment not being good enough. I had to call a cab since Trace was gone, again. I didn't want to think on it because the obvious answer for his absence was just not a place I wanted to go. When I arrived, Mr. Baker met me in the lobby.

"The meeting is with Caroline."

"Do you know what it's about?"

"No, but whatever it is, she isn't happy."

My heart started to beat frantically as a coldness settled over me. The short journey from the lobby to Caroline's office felt like an eternity. As soon as we stepped into her office, she pierced me with furious eyes.

"Close the door, Cal. You, sit."

I took a seat as my knees shook and then Caroline leaned over her desk and glared at me.

"I don't know what game you're playing but I'll not be strong-armed by a conniving little bitch like you."

"Caroline!" I was only vaguely aware of Cal's protest as I tried to process her words as fury warred with fear.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know what you've got on him but I don't like being told what to do. This is my life's work."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't pretend to be ignorant -- Charles Michaels."

I was momentarily rendered speechless at the mention of his name but then I held Caroline's gaze before I said, "It's not an act. Who the hell is this man? I've never even met him."

She turned her laptop around to show a man in his fifties and my recognition was instantaneous. He was the man that came into Clover that night with his wife.

"That's Charles Michaels?!"

Caroline was looking at me oddly. "Yes."

"I met him once; he came into the restaurant where I work. He was curt to his wife and downright rude to me." I didn't mention that he was also tearing my relationship apart.

"What does he have to do with me?"

Caroline's voice was softer, kinder, when she asked with disbelief. "You really don't know, do you?"

"No, please tell me."

"He's the reason you got this job. He called and strong-armed me into giving it to you and then he called today offering
In Step
the exclusive coverage of his campaign but only if you were our correspondent."

I was shaking my head as I stood and began pacing the room. "I don't understand. I don't know him."

Caroline leaned back in her chair as a different person than the one when I entered and said, "Well, he apparently knows you."

I knew I had to talk with Trace. "I've got to go. I'm really sorry about all of this."

I gathered my coat and headed for the door but stopped as I touched the knob.

"What are you going to do about Charles?"

Caroline shrugged. "I don't know."

"Can you delay?"

"Why?"

"Because I have a feeling there's more of story here than a campaign journey."

Caroline leaned forward with her journalistic instincts kicking in, "Really?"

"I wouldn't bet against it."

"I'll delay then."

It took me some time to track down Trace and I only managed it with Rafe's and Luke's help. Trace actually was at the gym and when I finally located him in the weight room, I gave myself a moment to watch as he bench-pressed the weight of a small car. He was beautiful -- a beautiful and damaged soul. I hadn't even made a move toward him when his head whipped around and those eyes speared me from across the room. He stood and started towards me.

"Ember, what's wrong?"

I reached for his hand. "We need to talk."

He let me pull him from the room and when I found a restroom, I pushed him in and locked the door before I turned and leaned against it.

"Who the hell is Charles Michaels?"

I saw the stubbornness enter his expression and knew he was going to shut me out again but I didn't let him.

"I just had a sit-down with my editor. It turns out that he got my job for me by calling in a favor and now he's willing to give exclusive access of his campaign to
In Step
as long as I'm the front person. With your reaction to him and your behavior ever since, I know somehow you're connected so who the hell is he and why the fuck is he messing around in my life?"

All the blood drained from his face and for just a second, I saw what looked a hell of a lot like fear flash in his eyes before rage took over. He turned and without warning slammed his fist into the wall before he started to pace. "Mother fucker! No, not you! Absolutely not you!"

"What? Tell me! If I hadn't seen him that night at Clover, I wouldn't even have known who he was. I'm guessing he knows of me because of you."

Trace grabbed me as his eyes practically burned holes into me.

"Charles came into Clover?!"

"Yes."

"Fuck!" He roared that as he walked away from me and started to pace. I watched him for several minutes as he worked it all out. When he looked back at me there was a resolve about him that I had never seen in him before.

"I have to go."

"Trace?!" I called after him but he never looked back.

In the days that followed, Trace sequestered himself in his office and never once came out to talk with me about what was going on with him. At night I went to bed alone since Trace wasn't sleeping and when he did, it wasn't in bed with me. He was distancing himself from me because he was getting ready to walk. I think the truly heartbreaking part of it all was that I knew from almost the beginning that he would walk away rather than fight to stay. It was my own fault, allowing myself to believe that it would be different with me, as if I could save him. I was coming to realize that I never stood a chance because Trace didn't want to be saved.

In the days that followed while Trace brooded privately, I made the decision to quit my job at
In Step
. It had been a hard decision to make because I really loved the work but I hated more knowing that I only had the position because of Charles Michaels. Caroline had tried to persuade me from my decision, told me that I had proven myself and earned the position, but
In Step
had become synonymous with Trace and his demons and because of that I no longer felt the joy working there that I once had.

It was four days after my meeting with Caroline that I saw Trace again. He emerged from his study and he looked tired and lost but worse the vacancy was back in his eyes. He barely gave me a passing glance as he walked to the front door.

"Trace, are you going to talk with me?"

He turned to me but one look at him and I wished he hadn't. His voice was completely devoid of emotion when he said, "There's nothing to talk about, Ember. I'm going out."

And then he was gone. When he didn't come home that night I worried. I tried calling him and Rafe but I couldn't get through to either of them. I called a cab and headed to the Bronx. When I entered Trace's gym I saw him immediately. He was standing amid a circle of women and once again, he was flirting. All the little gestures of affection he had constantly been giving to me he was freely giving to strangers. I felt the tears and hated myself for caring so fucking much.

As I stared at him it was like watching a wolf catch the scent of his mate as Trace's head jerked in my direction; his eyes pinned me from across the room. His expression broke my heart because it wasn't sadness or pain or regret that I saw but the lack of them; his expression was completely blank and then he grinned at me as if we had been only passing acquaintances before turning his attention to the bosomy blonde standing to his left. A searing pain exploded in my chest but I kept my head held high as I turned and left.

I stood outside his gym for a minute before I started walking aimlessly as my anger bloomed.

Despite whatever motivated Trace: fear or a need to protect me or himself, what was glaringly obvious to me was that Trace was unwilling to fight for me. Heidi had said it, had warned me; Trace would always choose Trace and though he might love me, he feared his demons more. I didn't know how long I walked around but eventually I hailed a cab and headed back to the apartment.

I sat in the living room waiting for him as I worked out what I was going to say to him. I waited so long that eventually I fell asleep on the sofa. When I woke, it was morning and Trace still hadn't been home. I showered, changed and started the coffee and that's when I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. I moved from the kitchen just as Trace was walking down the hall to the bedroom.

"Trace."

He didn't even turn in my direction before he said, "Ember." He reached the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

I wasn't going to follow him but I was angry at how he was shutting me out again and being all Alpha-male-esque, decreeing how it was going to be between us. I reached the door and turned the knob only to find that he locked it. I couldn't even being to describe how that made me feel. Never, once, in the months that we'd been together had Trace locked me out, literally or figuratively. It was in that moment when I mentally conceded defeat and acknowledged to myself that Trace and I were over.

I waited for him in the living room. An hour later the bedroom door opened as Trace appeared showered and changed. He moved down the hall, spared me a glance, before he moved to the front door.

"Are you going to talk with me, Trace?"

He stopped but didn't turn to me before he replied, "Talk about what?"

I was so angry that I reached for the candy dish on the table and hurled it at his head. That got his attention as fury-filled eyes looked back at me.

"What the fuck are you doing, Trace? If you want me gone then fucking say it but don't act like I'm being emotional and unreasonable when you've pulled a Jekyll and Hyde."

He took a few menacing steps closer before he hissed out, "I want you gone. I'm over it and you."

And after those hurtful words he turned from me and left the apartment.

I discovered that a body could still function when the heart was reduced to nothing but ash. I'd heard that deep depression could actually cause physical pain and I learned through personal experience that is a true statement of fact.

I didn't know how long I stood there looking at the door but I eventually turned and made my way to my room and started packing my things. I spent the whole day packing and when I was finished, I thought about my dinner with Lucien and the advice he had offered me. He told me to fight for what I wanted and Rafe, he warned me that Trace would push me away but if I loved him I had to hold firm. I wasn't really sure that he did still love me but I knew I couldn't leave without trying to reach him one last time.

I called Rafe and learned that Trace was at Sapphire. A half hour later, I was walking through the doors of the club and as soon as Luke saw me he hurried from around the bar and stepped in front of me.

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