Coming Undone (2 page)

Ben rolled his eyes at the exchange and looked back to Brody.

“We need to go for a ride on Sunday. You up for it? The weather should be good. I thought a trip out to the Olympics? We can stop and eat some crab before we turn around.”

Brody respected the man who cared so much about his sister.

The guy was good people, and he’d come along at a time in Erin’s life when it would have been a hell of a lot easier to run in the other direction. That went a long way in Brody’s book.

Sunny weekend with bikes and friends? “Yeah, that sounds damned good.”

2

Pain sliced through her as his fist connected with her jaw, sent her flying
back against the table they’d bought years before at a flea market. Wood
splinters rained on her as she slid to her knees, bright points of light painting her vision as breath tore through her lungs.

He hauled her to her feet, but her right leg buckled and she fell again.

He’d used a baseball bat on it. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew
it was broken. Knew she’d never dance professionally again. But her mount-ing fear had nothing to do with that.

Blood marked the pale tile in the entry, and had smeared where he’d
hit her and dragged her while she screamed and fought. And then he’d hit
her until she couldn’t fight much anymore. Handprints, spatters, smears—all
ominous portents of just how far the situation had deteriorated over the past
nearly three hours.

In the midst of the beating, of the verbal abuse, of being sick from the
pain and of watching him tie off and be unable to find a vein for long minutes at a time, she’d tried to focus on a plan. Time had passed; he’d dragged
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her from room to room, becoming increasingly agitated. He broke things, like
he wanted to break her. He wouldn’t.

The clock on the living room mantel chimed four times. Her baby was
due home soon. She knew he’d harm her daughter. Knew he had to be stopped
before he could get his hands on Rennie. She only had herself to count on,
but no one was going to hurt her child. Not while she still had breath.

Elise pulled to a stop in her driveway and looked into the backseat.

Rennie was asleep, her well-loved blankie curled against her side, pillowing her head, pale blonde hair spread around her face.

An ache, both sharp and sweet, spread through Elise’s chest at the sight of the unlined forehead, the trouble-free face of sleep. Seattle had been very good for the both of them. Hard, yes. A long way from the life Rennie had known and Elise had been supported by. There’d been no choice; there was nothing left but pain for them in New York. But, wonderfully, they’d begun to place roots there in the Northwest. Rennie was settling in, making friends.

Rennie even expressed an interest in sports. Her baby girl—oh hell, not a baby anymore; the kid was nearly seven, going on forty—was coming out of that dark place they’d both been in.

More than that, Elise felt
safe
for the first time in a decade.

That was more precious than she cared to even contemplate for very long. The price had been higher than she’d ever imagined. But, she thought as she bent to ease Rennie from the seat and carry her into the house, there was no way but forward, no direction but up.

As she made herself a late dinner, she took in the space they now called home. Over the weekend she’d hung up the art she’d stuffed into the van they’d driven out from New York. The couch, on sale at a local store, had come a few days prior.
Red
. Red with white cushions. Just looking at it made her happy.

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The area rugs she’d collected over the years as she’d traveled the world covered the shiny wood floors. The house was earthy, colorful and warm. A big change from her silver and pale blue Manhattan condo.

A
needed
change. Warm and earthy suited her, damn it, and it would keep on that way. Rennie’s recent artwork splashed the re-frigerator doors with color and lent that extra bit of home. One positive she got from her father.

Shaking her head, Elise moved back to pleasant things. She made a mental note to thank her friend from the NBT who’d hooked her up with some local people and gotten the word out about her school.

That word had given her enrollment numbers a huge boost. The bills would be paid, and in a year or so they might even be turning a profit.

Rennie appeared to be making friends in her summer camp program, which kept her busy during the day and worked most of her energy out, much to Elise’s relief at bedtime. They’d gone furniture shopping and gotten new beds for each of them. Their nightly routine included grabbing some groceries and heading home.

Glorious and totally, utterly normal.

The fact that she lived without fear occurred to her in the same way you notice when crickets suddenly start up in the summer. Life springs around you and you realize it’s going to be okay.

Her
left
leg was fine. Elise could still dance better than 95 percent of the population, but she’d never be a primary dancer again.

She’d never dance with any major company, because her body would not hold up under the stresses of that life. Age was a factor now, but mostly it was the damage to her right leg and the multiple dis-locations of her shoulder. Her balance wasn’t as precise, her strength not quite enough.

In that, Ken had won. He’d taken that dream from her.

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But simply by standing there, happily enjoying a rage-free home and a glass of wine, Elise had won. And she had absolutely no intention of feeling guilt for surviving. Rennie needed her. Moreover, Rennie needed to see her mother as a woman who stood tall instead of wincing in fear. Who took what life had to offer with both hands and forged a place for herself instead of waiting for someone to pro-vide it for her.

Through it, Elise knew she’d be a better person for herself too.

Elise worked in her front yard, cleaning out the flower beds and getting some new plants in. As she did, it wasn’t like she couldn’t take a look from time to time as a new, hot-looking bad boy rode up on a big motorcycle. For someone so big and sort of scary-looking, that guy who lived across the street was pretty hot. His friends too.

Apparently Elise had a thing for bad boys. Hmm. Well okay, so that wasn’t so much of a surprise, but hopefully the bad on those boys was the good kind.

And since this was just a conversation going on in her head and all, it was nice to know that after two years of having sex with no one but her hand or her toys, her libido could still rev up at the sight of something so spectacularly male. She could look, store up some fantasy fodder for her dates with her hand and also know men like her neighbor were totally out of her league.

But
holy shit
, all the hard thighs encased in faded denim, the tight asses, the tattoos and general bad-boy air going on was more than enough to overcome any discomfort at being on her knees in the dirt. She had on sunglasses and a ball cap, so it wasn’t like they could see her ogling them or anything. She could objectify and fantasize to her heart’s content. Mmm.

The earth was warm, the scent dark and rich as she dug and C O M I N G

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planted, tore out and worked. It felt good to make a physical change with her hands. To create a difference in her environment.

“Momma, we need more pink flowers. We don’t have enough pink.”

Grinning, she looked up the filthy legs of her monkey of a child and into a face dirtier than her clothes. “I’d be challenged to find a spot on your body not covered in dirt. Honey, have you been
eating
dirt?”

“Ew! As if! But a girl has to get her hands dirty when she’s working in the garden. That’s what Gran says.”

Elise laughed, thinking of her mother saying exactly that, though usually as she ordered someone else around to do the gardening for her while she watched.

“We can go to the garden center later today, if you like. Then you can pick out the flowers you’d like to plant. Maybe after we get some lunch. What do you say? A girls’ lunch date and then some shopping?”

Rennie’s big blue eyes lit. “Awesome.”

“First, you need to be cleaned up and changed. Good Lord, I should just hose you off out here.”

Rennie squealed as Elise grabbed the nearby hose and gave her daughter a squirt. The squealing rose in volume and pitch as Rennie grabbed the watering can, tossing the contents at her mother.

“Oh, I’m gonna get even with you for that!”

Rennie hooted some smack-talk her way as she streaked through the freshly painted arbor over the opened backyard gate, her mother in hot pursuit.

Ben looked up from his bike and toward the noise across the way and then back over to Brody. “Dude, when did you get a new neighbor?

I thought an elderly couple lived over there.”

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Brody caught the sight of two females, one grown chasing a smaller one, laughing, water spraying from the hose. He smiled briefly at the idyllic scene and the flash of pale blonde hair as they rounded a corner. “Dunno. I noticed a new car in the driveway, but whoever they are I haven’t met them yet. Maybe a young family or something.”

“Maybe a hot single mom,” Cope, Ben’s younger brother, added.

“That would be nice.”

“I’m not looking for hot single moms. I don’t need any baggage or ex-husbands hanging around.” Christ, why would he? There were plenty of single women without kids and exes around. Anyway, she probably had a husband, not that he’d noticed one way or the other.

Cope snorted and got on his bike. “Not for
you
, dumbass. For me. You can get your own pussy, I’m not your pimp.”

“Don’t fuck anyone in my neighborhood, Cope. The last thing I need is to be involved in a situation where some woman is brooding over you when you dump her. Don’t fuck where I sleep.”

“You wish I’d fuck where you sleep.” Cope raised a brow, smirk-ing before he slid his shades up over his eyes.

“Ha! If I liked men, yours wouldn’t be the ass I coveted. You’re too short. I couldn’t fuck you without bending my knees and strain-ing my back. Plus, you’re not as hot as your brother, who I’d totally fuck if my sister wouldn’t kill me.”

Ben laughed, tossing a towel at his little brother. Considering that Ben was fucking not only Erin but her husband Todd, who was also Ben’s boyfriend, Brody wasn’t too far off the mark. Both on Ben’s attractiveness and his sister’s willingness to kill anyone who tried to filch one of her men.

“I’d be fucking
you
, old man.”

Brody barked a laugh. “Now it’s you wishing. Stop harassing C O M I N G

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my neighbors and their children and let’s get this show on the road.”

Brody snorted, shaking his head as he climbed aboard his bike and keyed it on. He slid the strap of his helmet home, tightening it, and adjusted his ass on the seat. A new splurge, comfortable for long rides just like the one he was about to take.

Six of them roared down the street, toward the freeway and a day of riding out in the gorgeous weather. Freedom.

After getting Rennie down to bed, Elise had puttered around the house, folding laundry and returning some phone calls. Then, at long last, she locked the door, ran a bath, grabbed a book and a glass of wine, and settled in for a nice soak.

The bathroom had been remodeled some years before, so it was larger than it would have been for a house this age. It was one of the reasons she had bought the place. Huge jetted tub with a garden window and a skylight. Just the place for an aging dancer to soak away the day’s stresses.

And, she thought as she soaped over her nipples and they stood at attention, a nice place to masturbate too. Her eyes drifted closed as she thought of him. Of the dark-haired giant across the street.

His voice would be low, she decided, low and gravelly as he talked dirty in her ear. He’d bend her over a desk, or a table, kick her ankles wide to spread her open just for his cock.

Hard. His body would be hard against hers as he fucked her. Fu-riously, deeply, so much so that little grunts of air would emerge from her lips each time he slammed home.

Her soap-slicked hand slipped down her belly, finding her pussy ready. She teased around her clit as she continued to think of him.

Of how he’d pull out and pick her up, depositing her on the table-top and settling in between her thighs.

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Ken had hated oral sex—the giving of it anyway—but it featured mightily in all Elise’s fantasies. She’d loved it when the men before him had done it for her. Wet, slick mouths on her pussy, tongues working against her clit. So intimate to be touched that way.

A man like the guy across the street would do it and he’d love it.

Her middle finger slid back and forth over her clit as she imagined his tongue would move. She’d arch up into his face, unashamed, demanding more. And he’d give it to her, making her come before straightening to slide his cock back into her, even as her inner walls still jumped from climax.

She would be able to do nothing but lie there, rolling her hips to take him deeper as he fucked into her body. His eyes would burn into her like a caress until he got closer to climax.

Her breath came shorter as she neared her own climax, imagining how his neck would tighten, how the muscles on his forearms would cord as he gritted his teeth and came into her, hot and so wet.

She let go, coming, and sliding beneath the water as she could still imagine the scent of the sweat on his skin.

3

Elise enjoyed the early afternoon quiet as she used the long-handled roller to spread paint up and down the section of fence just to the left of her porch. Rennie played with Barbie and My Little Pony on the porch, singing one of her numerous made-up songs that made Elise grateful to have birthed so fabulous a person.