Past Imperfect (25 page)

Mom and Dad, I’m sorry that I’ve caused so much pain in your lives. I know what I’m about to do will hurt you, but at least your pain will end as time goes by. It needs to end, everything does. It’s better this way for all of us. Now you’ll be able to rest and not worry about me. You have both been wonderful parents, so don’t think this is your fault. I’m the screw up and always have been. I’ve tried really hard to be normal, but it never felt right. I was able to pretend for a while, but it’s exhausting being something you’re not. I’m sorry I can’t pretend anymore. I love you both.

Brad, I haven’t smiled a lot in my life, but I did when I was with you. Doing things for you gave me purpose. I loved taking care of you. I loved you. When you truly love someone you don’t put conditions on it. You just do it. You didn’t have to tell me you loved me, but why did you have to be so mean about it? Why did you have to say you’d NEVER love me? Never is such a long time. Maybe someday you would have loved me. Why didn’t you love me? I needed you to love me. When you walked out of my door everything went with you- my breath, my heart, and my strength. I’m too weak to fight off the darkness. It’s been an hour since you left me, and the darkness is consuming and suffocating.

The first time I remember sinking it was like tripping. By the time my brain registered what happened, I was already down, but I could still see the light. I got back up and continued on. I was bruised, but not completely beaten.

The second time, I remember sinking it felt like someone had pushed me down. It was forceful and abrupt. The light had dimmed. I tried to get up, but the struggle was too hard, so I pretended to stand and move forward.

I don’t have to remember my third time sinking, because it’s happening right now. I feel like I have a boulder tied around my neck and have been tossed into the black and muddy water. It sucks you in and doesn’t let go. Brad, I needed you to grab my hand and pull me from the muddy water. You left me to sink until I could no longer see the light and allowed the darkness to invade me completely.

There’s no point in staying here. I have no purpose and I’m tired of pretending I do.

Becca

I stand in front of her door, hesitating. I have a key, but I don’t use it. My stomach has been queasy ever since leaving my father’s office. Riding over here I kept telling myself that Mabry and I love each other too much for this to be that big of an issue, but I can’t stop the feeling of dread that has taken me over. The loss of her mother to suicide is still fresh in Mabry’s heart even though it’s been years. The fact is, I’m terrified that she’s going to think I had something to do with Becca’s death. Hell, there’s still a part of me that feels like I did have something to do with it. Logically, a person knows what his actual part is in any given situation. Feelings aren’t logical though. They just
are.
They haunt you, give you nightmares, and hold you responsible. Until logic and feelings sync up, you’re never really completely free of any involvement.

I take in a deep breath and knock. I wait for the door to open, but instead I hear the muffled voice of Mabry.

“Brad, is that you?” she yells.

“Yes.”

“I can’t come to the door, just use your key.”

I slide the key into the lock and turn the doorknob. The place is dark except for one small lamp in the corner. Mabry’s place has an open floor plan. You can see the entire living space except for the bedrooms and bathrooms from the front door. I glance into the kitchen to see if she’s in there, but it’s empty.

“I’m in here, baby.” I hear coming from the direction of her bedroom.

I head down the hall, my body feeling a mixture of dread and excitement. Standing in the doorway, I peer in. The room is glowing with candles. Once my eyes adjust, I see the most beautiful and heart stopping-sight. Mabry is lying on her stomach across the bed, propped up on her elbows, facing the door.

“Hey, sexy beast,” she says in a sultry and playful voice.

“Hey, Sweetness. Did you forget to pay your electric bill?” I ask, walking toward the bed.

Her hair is loose and it falls over her creamy shoulder as she cocks her head to the side, giving me a wicked grin. Pushing up onto her knees, she meets me at the edge of the bed. She’s wearing a black teddy with lace running across her nipples and down the middle of her body. The sides are transparent allowing me a clear view of her gorgeous curves. My eyes zero in on her phenomenal tits, pushed up high and exposed except for the nipples. My mouth waters just thinking about sucking on them. My eyes roam farther down, spotting the garter clamped onto black hose, leading to black stilettos. Pictures of Mabry bending over my desk from earlier flash through my mind. I temporarily forget what I need to tell her as the queasiness in my stomach is replaced with the fire of excitement. My skin heats up as azure blue eyes sparkle in the candlelight while traveling up and down my body. My dick isn’t just twitching, it’s convulsing.

“Wamfu,” I breathe out.

“Wamfu?” She scrunches up her face in confusion.

“My brain couldn’t decide whether to say ‘wow, damn, or fuck,’ so it came out ‘wamfu.’”

Smiling, she says, “I like wamfu.”

Grabbing my tie, she tugs me to her mouth. She places small quick licks across my bottom lip with her tongue before slipping it into play with mine. I slide the tips of my fingers under the garter, grazing her soft skin. I can already feel my hips start to rock toward her. My hands move up, touching the sides of her face. I take the kiss as deep as humanly possible, focusing intensely on the feel of her tongue, her lips, her skin, and her body pressing against mine. I breathe in the scent of vanilla. I tighten my hold on her as I get lost in the moans escaping from her.

She backs away from the kiss, needing to take a breath, and says on my lips, “I’m glad you still have on your tie, Bradley.”

She’s picking up where we left off with hot secretary and naughty boss. So fucking adorable.

This is not what you came here for, Brad. You need to focus. You need to tell her about Becca.

Each part of my body is on high alert right now. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have not to throw her down on the bed and rip that lace off of her.

“I’ll need to use that tie to secure your hands to my headboard. I can’t have them getting in the way while I suck your…”

I grab her shoulders and push her back abruptly. “Mabry, I need to talk to you.”

She blinks several times before realizing that I’m serious. I understand her confusion and shock. I’ve never stopped us, no matter where we are or who’s around. Mabry’s always taken on the role of the sex patrol. As long as we are out of sight from prying eyes, I’m good to go. I see the second she becomes self-conscious of her appearance and wants to cover up, thinking I’m not turned on. She’s got to know I’m turned on. Every inch of me is hard and tense. The corners of her mouth turn down as her brows knit together. Climbing off the bed, she shrugs on her little black robe that barely covers her ass. When she turns toward me, her eyes are full of concern and she’s biting her lower lip. I know instantly that I’m going to have to ask her to change into actual clothes. I’m not going to be able to concentrate with her looking so
Mabry.

Rubbing the back of my neck, my eyes shut tight, I ask, “Could you change into something less… incredible?”

When I open my eyes, I see that her lip has been freed and the corners of her mouth are curled up slightly.

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

We simultaneously turn away from each other. Mabry heads toward her closet as I head into the living room. I walk around the place flipping on light after light. I need to see her face clearly in order to gauge the effect my words are having on her. I pace the floor a few times before the clearing of her throat causes me to turn and face her. She’s wearing a pair of brown yoga pants, an oversized beige T-shirt that falls off of one shoulder, and she’s barefoot. Most of her hair is pinned up, but several pieces sit loose around her face. Mabry changing didn’t have the desired effect on me I was hoping for. She’s still sexy as hell and it’s killing me.

She sits on the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest. “What is it, Brad? You’re making me nervous,” she says, her tone cautious.

I take a few steps toward her, running my hand through my hair, and try to find the right words. “I’m not really sure how to start this.” I dart my eyes away from her.

I didn’t like talking about my past because I was ashamed of it, especially this particular event. Mabry knew in general the type of person I was back then. She knew I slept around, but we both agreed not to discuss the specifics of any relationship or encounter either of us had with others. There was no point in that. We’re different people. We belong to each other now. I like the person I am with Mabry. I didn’t want her to hear the disgusting things I had done. I head to the sofa, sitting away from her, and face straight ahead.

I’m looking down at a spot on the floor, my voice low, when I start. “You know the type of person I used to be. There was this girl during my second year of law school. It was never anything even remotely serious. I’ve never been serious with anyone except you.”

I risk a glance at her. Her eyebrows are scrunched together tightly and the look in her eyes is right on the fence between concern and fear. I need to say it already.

“She committed suicide a little over a month after I met her. I didn’t know she had any mental problems. I barely knew her.”

It’s slight, but I can see Mabry’s body tense and go rigid. The look in her eyes tells me that she’s trying to decide on what her first question needs to be.

“Why are you telling me this now?” she asks.

“The reason Peyton barged in on us was because my father wanted to see me. Apparently, the girl’s parents have filed a wrongful death lawsuit against me for one point two million.”

Her eyes dart quickly to mine. “Holy fuck,” she says, the shock clearly evident in her voice.

“I know.”

“You realize it won’t make it to court. No judge will take the time to hear a case like this.”

“My father thinks they’re looking for a cash cow. He’s setting up a meeting with their lawyer as soon as possible to negotiate a settlement.”

Her back straightens as she shakes her head. “Negotiate a settlement?” she asks in disbelief. The tension in my body relaxes somewhat as she shifts into lawyer mode. “Why would your father want to even bother with considering a settlement? This is a frivolous lawsuit.”

“He doesn’t want his name or the firm’s reputation tarnished with the negative publicity.”

“What evidence could there possibly be that would implicate you and what lawyer would even bother with a case like this?”

“Apparently, she left a note and Sir Douche is the lawyer,” I inform.

A look of surprise crosses her face. “I can’t believe Ten would take on a case like this. It doesn’t sound like him.”

I grind my teeth hearing his name. Rubbing my palms over my thighs, I try to keep my hands from forming into fists. I don’t like that her words imply that she knows Sir Douche that well. I refocus my thoughts on the fact that Mabry’s not freaking out about this. Instead, she’s ready to support and defend me. As long as I have that, nothing else matters. Hopefully, an agreement can be reached at the meeting with the Hyams and I can leave Becca in the past. The touch of Mabry’s hand on my arm breaks me from my thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Sweetness. What did you just ask me?”

“What was the girl’s name?”

“Becca.” I see out the corner of my eye Mabry’s head jerk completely in my direction.

“Becca what?” she asks, hesitantly.

“Becca Hyams,” I say, looking at her.

Her eyes grow in size and her expression morphs into something unreadable. “It was you.” Her voice has a dazed tone to it. “You were the boy at the memorial service. I saw you there.”

My entire body twists toward her. “You were at Becca’s service? Why?”

“We were roommates at Clemson for almost four years. She tried to kill herself at school. Once she felt strong enough, she wanted a fresh start. That’s why she was at Duke.”

“Fuck. I never even knew where she was from. She just said upstate.”

Lowering her legs, Mabry asks, “You had over a month-long relationship with her and never got the basic information?” There’s an accusatory tone in her voice all of a sudden.

“Stuff like that didn’t interest me back then,” I say as I look into her eyes.

“She was in love with you,” she says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

“Did you talk to her about me?”

“I got an email from Becca a few days before she killed herself. She said she’d met someone and was totally in love with him.” I wince at her words, especially the last few. “Did you have any feelings for her?” Her voice is low and soft as she fidgets with the bottom of her shirt, bracing herself for my answer.

I hesitate for several seconds. I don’t want to come off as a complete asshole and tell her I barely thought about her friend during that time. “I felt sorry for her when we first met.”