Broken (12 page)

Spring had finally arrived and Berg saw the girls in the bar had used the slight increase in temperature as an excuse to wear next to nothing. She herself was still in her modest work clothes, but that hadn’t stopped a number of young men from approaching her to try their luck. So far, she had rebuffed them all, but her willpower was weakening.

It’s been months. Would it be so bad just to have some casual fun?

Leigh’s voice came in right behind her own, overriding her thoughts.
You want to, why else would you be here?
Leigh asked.

“Shut up,” Berg muttered.

But Leigh had a point.

Why was she here? She told herself it was because she needed a beer before heading home, that it had nothing to do with watching the ASA flirt her ass off with Jay earlier in the day. But she had beers at home in her fridge. Not to mention a dog that probably needed to go out. What she didn’t have at home was a way to sate the ever-increasing urge to zone out for a few blissful hours.

Feeny, Elena, Lauren, Buchanan, Emma . . . the killers and their victims jostled for space in her already overcrowded brain. There was no way sleep would happen anytime soon.

Berg turned to check out the men in the room—there were a number of potentials. All she had to do was pick one.

So easy. Harmless, even. Everyone else does it.

And now that she had guaranteed things with Jay weren’t going to happen, what was the point of being celibate? She checked out one handsome student while he played pool with his buddies.

He looked up and saw her obvious appraisal.

“Berg?”

Berg’s eyes snapped up, slamming right into Jay.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the suspicion clear in his voice.

“Having a beer,” Berg said defensively. “What are you doing at a college bar?”

“Having a beer with a buddy from high school,” he said, nodding over to a table that contained a pudgy, balding man. “This was one of our favorite bars many years ago, and I live less than a mile away. Why are you having a beer, in a college bar, on your own, nowhere near your place?”

“Who are you, my mom?”

The tall young man who Berg had been eyeing earlier interrupted them. “Hey gorgeous, can I buy you another beer?” he asked, talking around Jay as if he wasn’t there.

Jay turned and scanned the stranger from head to toe. “Do yourself a favor and fuck off. Now.”

“I think that’s up to the lady, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t. You’ve got three seconds to fuck off before I get ticked,” Jay said, moving closer to the guy so they were almost eye-to-eye.

“You wanna take this outside? Because I’ll take this all the way, old man,” the student replied. “You think you can bring it?”

“Yeah, I can bring it. All the way to a cell.” Jay flashed his badge.

The student held up his hands in mock surrender and stalked off to rejoin his friends at the pool table.

“Do you want to join us?” Jay asked Berg, as if the interruption had never happened.

“Nope, I’m finished,” she said, draining the last of her beer. “Think I’ll head home.”

“Are you really going to head home? Because we both know what you are doing here.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I was having a beer, and now I’m done,” Berg lied.

“Please, Berg. Stay. Please?” Jay asked, grabbing her hand.

Her fingers tingled pleasantly at Jay’s touch.

God, I want him.

“That would be a bad idea and you know it,” she replied quietly, almost whispering, and pulled her hand away.

Jay sighed. “Why? I know what you think, but there’s nothing between you and me that could ever be a bad idea. Christ, Berg, I love you! All I’m asking is that we give it a try. Just try, with me, Berg. I know you have feelings for me, and you know how I feel about you. So why not? What possible reason could there be not to?”

Because I’m broken and you deserve better
.

“I’m sorry. I just . . . can’t,” she said, choking on the sob before running out.

It took all of Berg’s willpower and then some for her to climb into her car and drive it straight home.

She wanted that man nearly as much as she wanted to be numb.

She considered calling Dr. Thompson before she discarded the thought almost immediately. The last thing she felt like doing was discussing her feelings—her fucked-up, crazy ass feelings.

As luck would have it, Berg ran straight into Vi as she pushed open her front door.

“Alicia!” Vi said, grinning. “Jess did the funniest thing today at the park—” She spied Berg’s tear-streaked face. “Come inside. Come on now, no arguments,” she said bossily, ushering Berg into her apartment.

Berg reluctantly sat on Vi’s plastic-covered sofa while the elderly black woman bustled off into her overcrowded kitchen to make some tea. Berg looked around as she waited in silence, spying at least a dozen framed photographs of a good-looking ebony-skinned man—obviously Vi’s late husband, Arthur.

Vi’s home was dim, cozy—if a little warm and overstuffed—and despite her wishes otherwise, Berg was soon sipping hot, black, sugary tea and telling Vi about Jay and the conversation they’d just had.

“I’ve spoken to him a few times. A lovely man.” Vi smiled into her teacup. “And boy, what a dish! So what’s the problem?”

Berg shook her head and tried to stem the tears. “I’m just not . . . capable . . . of being in a normal relationship. I don’t want to fuck it up, or make him unhappy. And I guarantee that’s what will happen if we get together.”

To her credit, Vi did not flinch at Berg’s raw language. “How do you know you’re not capable unless you try? There’re no guarantees that will happen at all. He’s a big boy, capable of making his own decisions. I assume he knows what he’s in for. You don’t need to guard his heart, that’s his job. Besides, it’s pointless worrying about something that may not even happen!”

Berg shrugged.

“Do you love him?” Vi asked.

Berg nodded.

“And does he love you?”

“He says he does.”

Vi reached over and patted Berg’s hand gently. “Then the only problems here are the pretend ones in your head. Stop overthinking it.”

Berg rubbed her temples with her shaky fingers. “I poison everything I touch. I can’t do it to him. There’s too much . . . my life is too complicated. My childhood ensured I will never be normal. Even daily therapy’s not helping.”

Not that I’ve been going lately.

“Look. I don’t want to dis your therapy. There’s a time and a place for therapy, no doubt. But, Alicia, I’ve been on this earth a really long time. I’ve seen a lot of things—good and bad. I’ve done a lot of things, too—good and bad. And there’s one thing I know for sure: all those hurts, all those bad things, it’s just all stuff that happened in the past.”

“What?” Berg was getting irritated now.

Vi shrugged. “It’s just stuff that happened—like an earthquake or the sun rising and setting each day. It doesn’t mean anything about you unless you make it mean something. Do you take it personally if it’s a cloudy day? If you attach meaning to the stuff that happened to you as a kid, if you make it all about you, if you choose to define yourself by this stuff and carry it around like luggage wherever you go, and use it as an excuse not to live the best life you can, then that’s your choice, isn’t it? And it’s your choice to let it go. Just like him deciding to be with you is his choice.”

“I guess . . .”

“And sure, maybe some of the stuff that happened was bad, maybe it was very unfortunate. But it made you into the woman you are, it made you strong and it made you independent and it made you become a cop and help people. So whoever those people are, you should be down on your knees thanking them every day for what they did to you, because they made you, you.” Vi reached out to touch Berg’s hand while she let it all sink in. “It’s all in the past now anyway!” she said. “It’s over. Yet you make the choice to carry around all this hurt in your bags every day. And you can make the choice to let it go. You deserve to live as normal and happy a life as anyone else. It’s not your baggage holding you back, Alicia, it’s just you. Put the bags down.”

Later, after taking Jess out for a long-overdue walk, Berg sat on her sofa thinking about what Jay had said in the bar, and about what Vi had said shortly after.

They were right. Why shouldn’t she have the right to a normal life? A normal relationship? Was it her fault that her parents abused her?

Yes,
her mother’s voice whispered.
You’re no good.

She wrestled back control of her mind.

No, none of it was my fault!

Maybe she could be with Jay. Maybe a normal life was possible for her after all.

Chapter Ten

Maybe your mama gave you up, boy.

(It’s the same old, same old.)

I said maybe your daddy didn’t love you enough, girl.

How much is enough?

–George Michael, “Star People ‘97”

“B
erg!” Jay said, surprised, as he swung open the door. “What are you doing here?”

Berg didn’t answer.

Jay frowned. “Berg?” he tried again. “Do you at least want to come in?”

She didn’t say a word nor did she move past him. Instead, she grasped the doorjamb tightly with both hands, her eyes languidly raking up and down the full length of his tall frame.

Jay felt an instant jolt of heat from her gaze and hope sizzled from his crown down to the tingling tips of his toes.

Berg pulled her gaze ever so slowly back up his body—to the crotch of his jeans where it lingered, before working its way back up to his confused face.

“Did you mean what you said earlier at the bar?” she whispered.

Jay hesitated for only a half a heartbeat. “Yes,” he said.

Berg came inside, closing the door softly behind her. She stepped closer, until mere inches of space separated her from him.

Jay felt the heat radiating off her body as they searched each other’s faces. For once, Berg didn’t flinch or look away; she held his stare calmly. He felt as if he was finally seeing into her, as though her usual barriers were down.

He saw that she loved him, and it scared the hell out of her.

They remained close enough to feel each other’s energy without touching, staring silently, for what felt like hours.

It seemed as if every nerve ending Jay had was on fire. The tension overflowed out of him through his fingers and he grabbed the back of Berg’s head. There was almost a palpable charge in the air as he wove his fingers through her dark hair and crushed his mouth down on hers.

He half expected her to pull away. She always pulled away first. This time, however, she responded enthusiastically, parting her lips and offering her tongue. Jay took it and sucked lightly before penetrating her mouth with his own.

Sounds of fabric tearing and buttons clattering to the floor filled Jay’s studio as they ripped and clawed at any and all barriers between them. Within seconds, every inch of naked, hot skin was pressed together tightly.

Berg stroked his dick tentatively with one hand while pulling him closer with the other, but the action was unnecessary; he had been rock hard since he’d first seen the look on her face at the door.

Not even bothering to make their way to Jay’s waiting futon, they sank down onto the stained, brown carpet, arms and legs entwined, and gasping for breaths in between long, wet kisses.

Jay removed his mouth from hers, regretting the instant that he wasn’t kissing her, before his mouth clasped quickly around a nipple instead, sucking hard.

Berg gasped.

Unable to wait, he slid a finger inside her and moved it in slow circles. She was so wet that he couldn’t help groaning in anticipation.

In response, she grabbed his hand and pulled it into her body, harder and deeper.

Before he even knew what was happening, Jay was on his back with Berg straddling him as she worked her mouth up and down his cock in a magical rhythm. The sensations were so delicious that he almost went over the edge. With great effort, he pulled himself back, and it was his turn to grab her and pull her closer.