The Broken Parts Of Us (24 page)

BOOK: The Broken Parts Of Us
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I
might be into sex with easy women and maybe I’m too closed off to let people in when it comes to love and shit. My dad lost my mom and he fucking loved her with every fibre of his soul. It destroyed him when she died. I was a baby, but I felt the sorrow. It lived with us! I still have fucking feelings. Derek! I feel just like you do, I hurt just like you, and I’m hurting right now. How can you just shrug me off like I’m nothing to you? A fuck? Are you serious right now? I can’t believe this. I didn’t WANT TO FEEL THIS!” I shout at him. My body feels physical pain, my chest constricting, like a wormhole had opened up inside my stomach, sucking my soul through it. 

I can’t believe what he just said. He opened my eyes to something I’d only ever fantasised about and then made me feel something for him. I don’t do feelings, but he crawled inside, changing me, for what? To drop me like I’m nothing? Fuck, my body is trembling, I can’t control it. How can my heart physically hurt? It feels like he’s closed a fist around it and liquefied it in his palm.  

Oh God, this is Karma. I can’t believe I fell; it’s just as painful as I thought it would be. It’s gut wrenching, heart twisting. I want to cry right now. I want to pour every ounce of whatever the fuck this is I’m feeling and cry it out. It’s poison. It corrupts my mind, telling me I can have something I fucking can’t.

“I want to go back and never take that step if this is what I feel in the end. I can’t take it. I’m not as strong as you,” I mumble. I look up into his brown eyes; I see nothing of the Derek who has been there for the last month. He’s stone faced. “You know what makes this twice as bad? Kyra. Derek, why her? You knew I had a thing for her. Is this some kind of punishment? Did I fucking wrong you?”

He steps forward all commanding, dripping with authority. He grabs the back of my head, tugging on my hair. I can’t fucking help it, I get hard. “You just wanted to fuck Kyra. She deserves more than that. She’s not like the sluts you fuck. She was fucking pure.” 

“Was?” I choke out.

He releases me from his hold and shoves me back. “Stop acting like a fucking brat just because you’re not getting your own way, Jasper.”

I don’t understand any of this. I can’t deal with it. Fuck him, fuck her, fuck everyone. I stride to my dresser, pull a t-shirt out and slip it over my head. I don’t even look at him when I leave.

I gave him something I hadn’t given anyone before. I gave him me, my heart, my passion, my fucking soul. I gave them both a part of me and here I am with nothing. A burned out fire, that’s all I am to him.

I need them out. I need to lock that door to my heart and bury the key in concrete. I need to find someone to lose myself in.                   

                       

* * * * *

 

Sweat clings to the air; the dark scent cloaks my clothing. The intense music has a heavy beat just like my heart, beating so fucking loud and hopelessly people can feel it in and around them like an entity.

I feel myself drowning in flashes of Derek with Kyra, laughing at me. Why would he do this? I opened up to him, trusted him, and thought we were sharing something special. I’m lost, floating with no direction in choppy waters. He’s a fraud. He made me believe I was more and maybe worthy of falling for. He made me rethink my whole life. I feel like I’m out in a blizzard—cold and lonely, looking in through a window at love and happiness that will never be mine.

I should never have opened my heart. This is why I fuck and don’t fall in love, to avoid this self-hating misery.

I know I was going to marry Hannah before I found out she’s a lying whore. But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel these feelings for Derek. He opened my whole world up. I’m a stranger to these emotions; I need to get back to who I was before them, before him. I need to go back to what I’m used to. I need to forget, drown out and wash away what happened and never think of it again.

I look around the club I’d been told about by an old friend from back home. His brother owns a sex club and has branched out. So here I am, watching people grind against each other on the dance floor while some fuck in booths where people can watch. There are private rooms for members, but I don’t want to fuck here. I need to do it at my place to wipe out whatever I felt with Derek there. I make eye contact with a little red head who’s been eyeing me since I walked in. She’s wearing full leathers and trying to look intimidating, but she just looks stupid and her red hair is not something I can get on board with; too much like Kyra’s.

I want a blonde. My eyes dart around the club and lock with a broad blonde-haired guy. His hair is long, but pulled back in a tie. He has a presence that emanates dominance.

I tear my eyes from his and look around the people hovering near him; they’re all watching him with longing. He stands up and I feel my heartbeat stampede in my chest. He’s wearing black jeans, a black tee with a black leather jacket and motorcycle boots. He must stand around six foot six. Fuck, before Derek I had never felt any lust for a male before. I had entertained the idea maybe in a threesome, but never ever went there until Derek.

Before he reached me, my view was interrupted by a black leather waist. My eyes travelled the valley of her fake tits, then up her throat to her face.

“Hey, pretty boy. You want to play?” God, her voice is weak and whiny.

“Not with you he doesn’t. Stop playing dress up, Ruby. You give this club a bad name.”

She scurries off with her eyes downcast. His voice is deep and masculine. He towers over me, studying my face before he grasps the front of my shirt, guiding me to rise. He leans down to my ear. “We staying or leaving? Either way, I’m fucking you.”

Holy shit, I’m thankful for the bottle of Jack I drank in my car, giving me the courage to come in here to do this. I needed it and this guy has my blood sizzling in my veins at the possibility I could use him to wipe Derek’s memories and touch out.

“Leaving,” I mumble.

He walks to the exit. “My truck’s over here.” His tone leaves no room for argument, so I climb in. We don’t speak; the air is electrified with anticipation. I type the area code into his GPS and let the sexual tension build all the way home.

He seems indifferent by the mansion; clearly money isn’t something he cares about. I open the door. There’s no movement downstairs. I stride up the stairs with him behind me, push my bedroom door open and stand in the centre. My heart races.

“Music?” He breathes down my neck with his body pushing against my back. My breath comes out choppy as I point to the sound system. He shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on a chair in the corner of the room, then reaches for the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it with ease over his head, the muscles in his back flex with the movement.

I follow suit, ridding myself of my t-shirt just as a knock comes at the door. I turn towards it as Jared Leto croons from the speakers. I open the door and come face to face with Derek standing in the dim light of the hallway.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

I smirk as the half-naked man steps up behind me; he reaches around my waist and tugs at my fly, popping the buttons. “He’s busy,” he growls over my shoulder and shuts the door in Derek’s face.

“Is he why you’re doing this?” The fucker was perceptive.

“Does it matter?” I slur.

He studies me and I feel angry at his scrutiny. He came here to fuck a stranger, so what did he care if it was a revenge fuck or a forget fuck? I can’t take it; the alcohol is only amplifying the emotional dilemma I’m having. I slide down the door, my knees coming up to my chest.

I am a mess. How can this be me? I want to kick my own ass.

The music volume increases, drawing my attention to this guy. “Let’s lay on the bed, you’re wasted.”

I am. I let him help me up and into the bed. My head feels heavy as it makes contact with the pillow. Darkness claims me.

 

 

A
mind prison, that’s all I can describe it as. My fucking mind is locked in Jasper’s room. My stomach has abandoned me down the john. My heart is a slow thump; it’s giving up. I can’t cope with the knowledge that he’s in there being fucked by some guy. He is mine, but he’s not.

The music vibrates his walls and I’m grateful I can’t hear them. My mind is already in there, seeing them together. The dominant male in me wants to smash the door down and put a bullet in this joker’s head, but I risk hurting and losing Kyra now. It’s a wreck, and the destruction is devastating.

All night that album plays, that guy’s voice will forever haunt me.

I make the coffee, gripping the pot in a vice hold, so I don’t beat this Chris Hemsworth-looking guy who just entered my kitchen to death with it.

“We just slept. I shouldn’t give a shit, but I know what he’s feeling and you should know he just passed out and we slept.” He walks away.

I pour Jasper a mug and take it to him. His room has its usual scent of Jasper’s body products. He’s lying out cold on the bed, his jeans open and his arm flung over his eyes. I have to fight the need to pin him to me and thank him for being too drunk to destroy everything we did. I didn’t just fuck him. I made love to him. I love him.

I leave the coffee on the bedside table and go to work.

 

* * * * *

 

The leads are still coming up as dead ends. The suspect in the hospital story was confirmed by the bar keeper who gave us a description of Evan.

I haven’t heard from Jasper all day. I know things are too on edge to have Kyra move in straight away, so I told her we would be staying at her place for a couple of days. Her mood matched my own with the news of Hannah. I need to go pack a bag for the night and check in on him.

 

I come in to loud music—the same stuff from last night. I hear giggling. I knew it wouldn’t take him long; God last night was just the start of this torture.

I round the corner to the lounge and feel like I’ve stepped into a club. He sits on the couch, a blonde and a reddish brunette between his legs; one with his cock in her mouth, and the other rubbing her tits in his thigh. Thank fuck I didn’t bring Kyra back here.

He holds a bottle of Jim Beam. “Ohhh, heyyyyy!” he sings when he sees me.

He puts his hand on the back of the brunette’s head, pushing her further on to him, his eyes holding mine as he controls her movements. She’s slurping like a champ and his eyes hold me hostage. They read a thousand thoughts. They gloss over with pleasure; it’s familiar and stirs the attraction inside me.

“Oh fuck!” He turns his head to her, pulls from her mouth and comes all over her chest. She bites her lip while her friend leans in to taste his offering. I want to roar like a beast and slap the shit out of him for proving me right about him always looking for sexual gratification.

“Get dressed and get the fuck out,” I command the women. They look up at me, confused.

“Hey, don’t be a party pooper, Der. This is Jooge and Michelle. Jooge
is
dressed; she’s wearing a pearl necklace from yours truly.” He chuckles.

“OUT!” I shout. They scurry to get their clothes on.

“Hey, I only need a minute to suit the joy rider up, and he’s ready to go ladies,” Jasper calls out as they leave.

“You’re drunk, acting like a brat. What if I brought Kyra home to that?”

He hiccups, tipping the bottle to his lips and gulping the contents like it’s water. He swipes his mouth. “She’ll have to get used to it if she’s going to be living here, fucking you. God, I hate you right now.”

I move to stand in front of him. “
You
hate
me
? You didn’t just come in to witness the porn show.”

He throws the bottle across the room. It hits the wall and splinters to the floor. “No, but you crashed into, me left me scattered and fragmented in your wake. I’m trying to put myself back together, but the pieces don't fit anymore. You changed me, awoke me, claimed me, and then broke me. I’m that fucking bottle right now!” He holds his hand to cover his face then lays back. “Just fuck off, Der.”

His words impact me like a tornado. All this mess swirling around us, but in the centre of it, it’s becoming clear, still, peaceful. He loves me.

 

 

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